#why did my brain have to torture me with this she’s so cool | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yourmomsgranddad · 11 months

Text

— SEE YOU AGAIN

— PAIRING: Chad Meeks-Martin x fem!reader

— SUMMARY: You like Chad but you can't tell him. You feel like you might never get the chance when Ghostface strikes again.

— WORD COUNT: 3.3k (might be the longest one :/)

— WARNINGS: reader plays piano, reader sings a song (i'm sorry), canon violence, traumatic events?

You never were an awkward person.

Not really.

You were always outgoing.

You loved going to parties and hanging out with people. You loved hearing people's stories. And you loved talking to them.

But when it came to crushes, you were as silent as mouse. You could figure a word, a thought, all that was there was sound. And it wasn't cohearent.

You didn't know where it came from.

You were usually normal around Chad. But one day, after he spent a few hours at the gym, something shifted.

Now every time you two were around each other, you couldn't think normal thoughts. He just flooded your entire brain. And it was unhealthy.

You couldn't tell anybody. You were kind of embarrassed, falling all over a boy like this. But someone did catch you.

Tara.

Chad had just walked away and you might had slipped up by looking at him like this was a dream you were enjoying a little too much.

"Why are you looking at him like that?" She wondered with a half smirk on her face. "Hmm?" You looked like a deer in headlights, you had been caught. And she was loving seeing you this way.

"Don't 'hmm' me. I know you heard what I said. Why are you looking at Chad like you're in love with him? Oh my gosh, are you in love with him?!" She gasped, mocking you.

You put your hands on your face, you wanted to hide.

"It's fine. I won't tell. It'll be our little secret."

And so it was.

Anytime Chad was near you in any type of way, Tara would take the chance to tease you. Mention how good you looked to him. Talk about how pretty your eyes were so he would look at them closer.

It was torture.

"Why does she keep talking about you?" He asked one day after Tara had walked away. You wanted to say something cool. 'She just likes messing with me, that's all.' And that would have been the end of it.

But your tongue was stuck. He was sitting awfully close to you and staring directly at you, you didn't trust your mouth at this moment.

So you basically let his mind wander.

"Oh my gosh, wait! Do you think Tara likes you?" His eyes went wide with glee. Your heart dropped. Why was he so happy about it?

That definitely brought your words back.

"That is definitely false. If anyone were to like me, it would not be Tara. She disgusts me." You joked, causing him to laugh and you were back to not speaking.

"Why are you always so silent nowadays? I miss your voice. I miss you talking to me." You wanted to crawl inside your body.

It's not like you didn't like him talking to you, it was one of your favorite things. It's just the talking back that's hard. So you didn't. But you felt bad for not talking to him.

So you decided to not to put the option of talking into his hands.

You admired him from afar. When you hung out as a group, you made sure not to be close to start up a tiny convo.

That would have to do for now. Until you could get your words together.

You never understood why you kept a piano in your room.

You hadn't played since you were ten.

You escaped to your room while everyone was in the living room, watching tv. You sat at your little keyboard. It was covered in all types of stickers of your interests in high school.

You just slammed your hands on the keys, it didn't sound like anything. You missed feeling the keys underneath your fingers. You wanted to play something.

You played the first song that came to your mind.

"Heart beats fast, colors and promises. How to be brave? How can I love when I'm afraid, to fall? But watching you stand alone. All of my doubt, suddenly goes away somehow." You began playing along with your faint singing.

You didn't want to bother anyone while they were trying to watch their movie. You just wanted to sing to yourself.

"One step closer."

You removed your hands from the keys. Just sitting in your silence. You forgot how fun it was to play your piano. A smile began to dance across your cheeks. You were so enraptured in your activity, you didn't notice someone in your doorway.

"Were you singing Twilight?"

You looked up and there was Chad, looking down at you where you were sitting with his arm crossed.

"Which answer would sound less weird?" You wondered, joking with him for the first time in weeks. You forgot how much you missed talking to him. And you could tell from the look on his face that he did as well.

"None of them. You were singing Twilight, that gives me an obligation to make fun of you." He teased, walking into your room and sitting on your bed behind you.

You swiveled around on your stool, looking at him hopefully.

"Bring it." You waved, egging him on.

He looked up for a second, as if he was thinking of an insult until finally, he sucked in a bunch of air, making a makeshift smile toward you.

"I can't."

"Why not? Scared of hurting my feelings?" You pouted. You stood up from your seat, going to sit next to him on the edge of your bed.

"It's okay. I can take it."

He smiled at you, for some reason he didn't believe you. "Come on!" You playfully pushed him, trying to get him to do something.

"No! I have nothing bad to say. I really liked your singing."

Your playful exterior dropped and all that was left was appreciation. "No one's ever complimented my singing before. Mostly because I think you might be the only person I've ever sung in front of."

"Well they should. People don't notice how good things are until they're gone. I know if you stopped singing, I would definitely miss it."

"Well I guess I just shouldn't stop then."

"Oh I advise against it."

You hadn't noticed but the entire time, you were staring into his eyes, not looking away once. They were trapping you and you felt as though if you looked away, this moment would cease to be.

It wouldn't be real.

But he touched your cheek, assuring you that this moment was very much real. And he was staring at you with the same exact look you had.

You just knew the moment wasn't real when he started leaning in.

You wanted nothing more than for his lips to touch yours but you broke apart when you heard the sounds of screams coming from the living room. You wanted to have wishful thinking and believe it was the tv but you just couldn't be that lucky.

You knew what happened back in Woodsboro before Tara, Mindy, Sam, and Chad got to New York. Your heart jumped.

You didn't waste any time before bolting out of your room and finding everyone in the living room on edge. Everything seemed off as Sam was shaking and everyone else was looking behind you.

You slowly turned around to see something from your worse nightmares, Ghostface, in the flesh.

You had only heard stories about the heinous beast but seeing him here just made your heart beat out of your chest. You didn't dare move. You felt as soon as you moved, it would feel like you were pressing play on whatever was going to happen.

And surely enough, standing still does not help when you standing in front of a literal murderer.

He lifted his hand up, the one with the knife. Sam screamed for you to move but you were paralyzed by fear. That fear didn't do you any favors as he stuck his knife right into your abdomen.

You didn't know what being stabbed felt like, I mean you did constantly accidentally slice your fingers while making food but you never actually got a knife stuck in you.

It didn't feel nice.

It felt like your body was going to fall apart like Play-Doh, or sand. Now you definitely couldn't move.

Luckily he didn't go down to finish the job but instead decided to follow after Sam, wherever she ran to. You couldn't see anything, everything was super blurry and shaking.

You had been drunk before but it was nothing compared to this feeling.

You did definitely still feel everything that was going on. All the rushed footsteps going around your fading in and out body. The screams echoing off the walls.

When someone picked you up like a baby and sprinted down the stairs with you in their arms.

"No. What about Chad?" You slurred out.

"I'm right here. I got you."

You might not be able to see anything since your loss of blood but you knew what Chad's voice sounded like. That sound put you to sleep most nights.

He sat you down on the stairs, leaning you against the wall. Your vision started to blur back into reality and you could see Chad, leant in front of you. And you definitely noticed the big splotch of blood in the center of his hoodie.

"I'm sorry about the blood."

He looked down and chuckled, you were bleeding out and felt bad about it. "It's okay. It's not your fault. Just stay awake, okay?"

You nodded. You could see but now all the adrenaline was gone and you were hyper aware of the bloody gash beginning on your side.

There was no amount of alcohol to take away this pain.

The sun had come up and ambulances had been called.

Turns out, after Chad ran you down the stairs, Ghostface got to Anika, Mindy's girlfriend. You didn't know her well but you did know Mindy and you felt bad. You held onto her as you just sat in the back of the emergency vehicle.

You hadn't noticed but Chad walked up to the two of you, leaning next to you. "Are you okay?" He wondered, looking down at you.

You were covered in the blanket that the EMT had given you. They had stitched up your side and stopped the bleeding. And your vision was back to normal. You weren't okay but you were doing a little bit better.

"No. But I knew going to college with you guys would be like a movie. I didn't think the movie would be Saw, but I'll manage."

He let out a little chuckle.

"At least it's not Nightmare on Elm Street, you love to sleep." Mindy added, making you giggle. This is what you needed, a joke with a friend to get your mind off the fact that less than 24 hours ago, you had been stabbed.

You looked up at Chad to see if he was laughing too but his eyes were somewhere else, on someone else. You had noticed, going under the yellow tape, was Ethan, Chad's roommate.

You knew Ethan, you were in Chad's dorm a lot for studying and just hanging in general.

You didn't feel any way about his appearance but from the look on Chad's face, you knew something was wrong. He stomped up to the boy and slammed him into a parked vehicle.

You rarely seen Chad get violent but when you did, you never really liked it. I mean who would?

"Where were you, man?! My sister and Y/n got stabbed and you were just gone!" You didn't like the violence but you did like Chad worrying about you. You had completely forgotten about your crush.

It kind of leaked out of you with your blood.

"I was at ECON!"

You wanted to believe him but something in you just didn't feel right about the situation.

You wanted to go back to normal after the incident but knowing who you're friends were, this was only just the beginning.

You found a Ghostface lair and any confidence you had before, it left as soon as that knife left your body. You felt your breath become haggard, you didn't know what to do and you felt like you wanted to burst into tears.

But you had to stay composed. Deep breaths. Nope, you couldn't. You had to get out of there. You put your hands in the air and stomped out. Knowing the situation, you probably should have said where you were going.

But you honestly didn't know, you just needed air.

You were lucky that New York was constantly windy so you didn't have to worry about not getting any.

Your life was exciting. I mean you lived in New York, what could be more exciting than rats and the stinky pee smell constantly? But that level of excitement? Have to constantly be running and worry about who you can trust?

No one wanted that.

You knew for damn sure Tara didn't want it. She always told you how she wished her life was different. "I love my sister but I don't like that Ghostface comes with her." She told you once.

You knew the dangers of being friends with them. But you didn't know it would be that bad.

There are a lot of scary things in life. But the number one thing was mankind.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when you heard someone exit the building you just walked out of. And it's like the universe wanted to punch the remaining air out of your lungs because who else would it be except for Chad.

"I saw you run out so I wanted to make sure you were okay."

You found a fire escape and sat down on it, looking up at the New York sky in this dark and sad alleyway. "I'm not Ghostface, if that's what you're thinking."

He noticed the way you couldn't look at him. Your eyes were trained on the sky. You being Ghostface was the last thing on his mind.

You kept thinking to yourself, why are you so distraught about a little knife? You got stabbed a little and you didn't die. But you kept thinking about how the knife twisted in your gut, about how the person who stabbed probably didn't think twice about doing that to you.

What if it happened again?

He sat down next to you on the very small step and you just sat in silence for a while. You kind of needed it.

"I can't believe this is your second time going through this and you're so chill about it." You tried to chuckle but for some reason, it came out quietly. It was barely even a chuckle, more of a sound.

"I have to be. If I break down, they get you. But you're allowed to be human. You got stabbed, it's not fun." He tried to make you feel better about being mad and sad at the same time but you just wanted to scream.

"Y'know when you pop a balloon and it flies around the room until it loses all its air? And you hear that gross sound of it deflating?"

He nodded shortly, he didn't want to cut you off. You needed to get this out.

"That's how my body felt. Like a big ball of air floating through the air and losing all of its insides."

You hadn't noticed but you subconsciously put your head on his shoulder. And he definitely was not pushing you away, instead vying to put his head on top of yours.

In any normal circumstance, you would've been doing backflips in your mind. But this wasn't a normal circumstance. And your stomach was already making noises for another reason, nothing good.

Breaking the tension, Chad let out a little giggle.

You jolted up, looking at him confused. You weren't expecting the sound but you happily welcomed it.

"What?" You chuckled along with as if you were already a part of the joke. "Are you hungry?" He wondered with a bright smile on his face. And there was the good feeling he gave you when he looked at you, just flooding right back in.

"Kinda. Why?"

Before anything else could be said, he grabbed your hand and begun leading you out of the alleyway.

You hadn't known it yet. But you two were about to go on a date.

It wasn't much a date as much as it was just him making sure you got something in your stomach.

But it felt like it.

You laughed, you talked, and you ate. All date activities.

By the time, you made it back to the hideout, it was nighttime. And it seemed like Sam and Tara were just getting there too, like they weren't in there when you left.

"Where have you guys been?!" Sam shouted, looking like a peeved mother toward the two of you. "We went to get food."

She barely let you get a statement out before wrapping you in her arms in a warm embrace. You'd expect this type of interaction from Tara but never from Sam. This definitely was new.

"Damn, Sam. Flirting in front of your boyfriend? Shameful." You joked, hopefully setting a lighter tone on the situation. It helped a little, it caused everyone to let out a little chuckle.

"Tara, tell your sister to stop flirting with me."

You hopped out of Sam's arms, falling into Tara's who returned it almost immediately. She smiled at your antics, this was the first time in weeks you were being yourself.

"Sam, stop flirting with Y/n. She does not like you that way."

She rolled her eyes playfully as you continued to walk in their current direction, still entangled in Tara's arms.

The group let you two know that they had a plan to trap Ghostface and kill him inside the weird lair.

As soon as you got inside, you all went your separate ways, going off and doing your own things. You instinctively went to the little candy counter. You didn't really want the candy, you just liked how it looked.

It didn't take long for Chad to pop up in front of you.

Things were silent between the two of you and for once in the past few weeks, you enjoyed the silence.

"Was that a date?" You blurted out.

"Before, when we went out to eat, was it a date? I'm okay if it wasn't. Like I wasn't wishing it was a date. I just didn't want to take it wrong way and say in the future that it was a date. Especially if it wasn't. Oh my gosh that would so embarra-"

Without any type of warning, he jolted forward, slamming his lips onto yours. You were momentarily paused, you almost didn't know what was going on. But as soon as you understood, you couldn't stop yourself from smiling.

After just sitting there, idle, he pulled away and looked around, almost pretending that didn't happen. He didn't want to be the first person to mention how awkward that was.

He just knew you were going to say something.

"Really, C? You did all that to just give me a church kiss? That's crazy. If you're going to do it, you better do it like you mean it."

So he tried again. Leaning forward slower this time and placing his lips on you lightly. This kiss more gentle as he slipped his tongue in through the gap your teeth made from smiling.

"Now that's a kiss."

You both pulled away satisfied, you smiling a little too big. You were excited, you had been waiting for that for weeks.

"It was a date. For your information." He said, clearing the air as he leaned over the counter. "I really like you, you know that?" Again, unexpected. You thought you were going to have to confess. But he did it for you.

But before you could return the sentiment, you felt a familiar sharp pain in your side. It was exactly the same as you remembered.

Balloon.

Your body froze from the pain, you basically lost feeling in your feet. You fell forward, into Chad's arms. He wanted to check and see if you were okay. But you fell behind him, causing him to fall into Ghostface.

He ducked, leaning over to grab you.

"Come on! We have to run."

He clutched your hand as you started sprinting toward the door. You wanted so much to hunch over and give into your injury. But you knew the moment you slowed, it was over. So you pressed your free hand into the wound as hard as you could and bolted.

You went to burst through the door but it was instead opened by Tara and Sam who seemed to be untouched.

They quickly rushed out of the way, allowing you to run through. Sam slammed the door in his face and then it was back to running.

The pain was unbearable but so was death.

You made your way back around to the spot you were originally. You got in front of Chad who threw a popcorn machine down, trying to trip Ghostface.

He jumped over it, speeding right past you, Tara, and Sam, going right for Chad. You want to help him but you were hunched over, on the ground, holding onto your wound for dear life. You were lucky Tara and Sam sprung to action and pulled him off of Chad.

He kicked Ghostface to the ground and suddenly, it seemed like you won.

Tara pulled you to the door, just in case you need to make a quick escape. Chad went to grab a gumball machine and make sure he was dead. But out of nowhere, another Ghostface appeared, stabbing Chad in the same exact side you got stabbed in.

"Chad!" You and Tara yelled out.

The two Ghostfaces took turns, alternating stabbing Chad in every part of his body. "No!" You shouted, you wanted to use the rest of your strength to go and help him but you could barely stand.

"Go. Run." He managed to get out of his blood soaked mouth. He forced out a nod even though he couldn't even move, he had blood coming out of everywhere in his body.

Tara hooked her arm around your middle and began pulling you out of the room.

You couldn't go rather far since you were also bleeding.

"Drop me right here." You whispered, reached down to the floor, taking a nice seat behind a wall. You could barely be seen. "Are you going to be okay right here?" Sam wondered, grabbing on your free hand.

"No. But if I move one more inch, my body's going to fall apart. Come back for me when it's safe."

The girls nodded. They hesitated leaving you in this state. Blood was gushing out of you like a faucet and you could barely move. You were defensiveless.

Tara's eyes darted around the room, seemingly looking for something. She walked away for a second, only coming back with a rusty old knife. She shoved it into your free hand. "Anyone comes near you, give em' a matching wound." You only reacted with a nod.

"That's my girl."

She stomped away, fading from your view.

You wanted so much to burst out of this injury and help Sam and Tara with whatever was causing them pain out there. You couldn't see since your back was to them.

You tried to get up but your legs immediately turned to jelly and back down you went.

But surely enough, they ended it, stabbing their roommate's dad in both of his arms. That part you saw since they were right in front of you.

As soon as he was confirmed down, Tara went right to you.

"Are you good?"

"Not in slightest."

She wrapped your free arm around her shoulder and helped you out of the building. She was bleeding from her side as well but she was walking as if it didn't bother her. She was trying to help you first.

She got you to the ambulance where they patched you up once again and you were once again, sitting in the back of an emergency vehicle.

"I'm growing tired of ambulances." Tara mentioned, standing in front of you, breaking the long built of silence. "You and me both, sister." Sam replied, rolling her shoulder in pain. She had gotten stabbed too.

Tara looked back at you and you were just sitting there, silently crying.

"What's the matter?" She worried, grabbing onto your hand in concern. You rarely cried in front of your friends so she was a little confused by the sudden feeling.

"It's just Chad."

You heard the rustling of wheels in the slight distance. You immediately recognized it. It was a gurney from the ambulance. But who else was in the building who needed saving?

You looked up and looking half dead, was Chad.

You got out of your seat almost instantly and ran to his side. "I thought you were dead." He couldn't talk, he had an oxygen mask on but he lifted his hand up to your cheek.

He didn't even have to say anything.

You understood.

#help lol #scream #scream 2022 #scream 6 #scream vi #chad meeks martin #chad meeks #chad meeks x reader #chad meeks martin x reader #tara carpenter #mindy meeks martin

226 notes · View notes

rise-my-angel · 2 months

Text

Heart of the Great Wolf

37 - The Crows and The Sight

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

Length: 21.1k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, past character deaths, references to torture/rape/mutilation, trauma flashbacks, smut, oral (m and f receiving), p in v, soft dom/sub dynamics, rough sex, bdsm/bondage

Notes: Jon's brain broke a little during this one, didn't it? Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here

“I've never seen you down here so much before, I don't think.”

Her voice echoed as she walked towards Jon. The cool air of night was a little less harsh down in the crypts, closer to the ground with torches lighting the whole path. Jon barley glanced to his sister before turning away to where he had kept finding himself. “Never had much of a reason too until I came back.”

But that reason then, was the one buried a few feet from where Jon stood. As Arya came up to his side, she felt strange looking at it as it felt to hear the truth. Neither said a word for a moment, letting the quiet sit between them as Arya did what Jon kept doing. Looking for him in the face of her statue, and finding not anything near what they both once wished they would learn.

“Still strange to think about. It was her all this time.” Jon nodded, his jaw clenched more as he felt that similar strain in his chest. His heart hurt thinking about it. About how he was even here. He was her son, but if he could take back what it cost to bring him into this world, he would. No one deserved that, let alone his own mother. Arya looked up to him from where she stood, seeing the conflict in how tense he had been. “When I got angry, I didn't mean any of it about her.”

As his voice low and rough, he barley managed to mutter out, “I know.” Arya was finally starting to understand a bit of how Jon must have felt talking to their father about it. Now that he knew the truth, he barley wanted to say anything. He barley wanted to talk about her. But Jon found himself unable to change that.

He didn't want to talk about the worst parts of his life as it was, let alone this.

But what he did talk about, was the one they both knew. “It's not easy to accept. That everything I thought I didn't understand about him, was all beacuse of me. Spent my whole life wishing he'd pay attention to me the way he did Robb.” They both stood quiet for a moment, his voice low enough were it not silent in the crypts none may have heard him. “For a while, I thought he left me to the Wall beacuse he didn't care. Got there and it was worse then anyone had told me, and I thought that meant he thought that's the future I deserved.”

Arya tried to interrupt him, something just as quiet but more desperate in her voice as she look up at him. “He always loved you, he loved all of us.” Jaw even more clenched, he nodded and willed the pressure behind his eyes not to sting.

He still was not strong enough to want to cry in front of his mother, let alone his baby sister. “Lord Howland said what they did to the Targaryean children, they would've done to me if they found out.” Neither of them quite noticed just how separated he phrased that. “The Wall was the only place far enough away that King Robert might not have been able to get to me. That's why he let me go. I asked Uncle Benjen to convince father to let me go, but he only agreed beacuse he wanted me as far away from the crown as possible.”

Her voice still was quiet, more easily full of a heavy emotion then Jon let his. “That's why he wouldn't name you a Stark. He didn't want any more attention on you then there had to be.”

It explained a lot the more he thought about it. Why he refused to talk about his mother, tell him her name or what she looked like. Why he kept Lady Catelyn just as in the dark about it, and put up with the problems between them. But Jon didn't want to think about her either, beacuse then he and Arya would have to face what she had become, what she tried to do. And neither of them were ready for that either.

Jon hadn't once taken his eyes off of Lyannas statue, he was still as much a Stark he always thought he had been, but now it hurt far more then the actual lie ever did. “The last thing my mother did was beg father to protect me. Begged him to promise to keep me safe.” That sting begun and his face twisted almost in frustration over it. “I only ever had a week with her, and the one thing my mother did before she died was beg father to protect me.”

“He did the best he could.”

Jon nodded, his voice just as strained. “He did. I just hope he knows that, knows that I still love him.”

If it were any of his siblings other then Arya, he wouldn't have felt comfortable enough letting something so raw slip out. But she wouldn't judge him for it as he wouldn't had it been her. “Right before Joffery ordered Illyn Payne to take his head, Cersei tried to convince him to send him to the Nights Watch.”

That pain in his heart, just radiated a little stronger in him as she continued. “No one thought he'd confess to treason beacuse he didn't do anything wrong, but he did. To protect Sansa, to protect me.” There was a pause a she considered how to phrase it but came out on the other side with the most simple of it. “And beacuse if he was at the wall, father knew he could still protect you.”

Jon's chest genuinely hurt, the pain growing and growing. He had said that day to Maester Aemon, that if choosing between love and duty, his father would choose duty no matter what. But he didn't. His father chose love in the end, in more then one way. To protect his daughters, and maybe even, to protect him. Jon felt that strange twist of warmth yet agony, knowing he had more of a father in Ned Stark then he ever once previously thought.

But it wasn't quite his father his mind had begun thinking about as they stood there.

The past few days especially, there had been a few boy names running through Jons head. But it was the only easy thought in his head as he looked up at the statue where his mother was buried. That he hoped you would let him give you a daughter. And he hoped you both would be able to raise her the way his mother never had the chance to for himself. He had a few boy names for the father and brothers hes lost along the way. But Jon wanted a daughter too.

Even just one, so he could name her Lyanna.

The night felt as if it were going easy, but the longer it went on the more you thought to what was coming. You both had agreed to it, and discussed it at length. More length then you think you understood it had so much detail given to you, but you agreed to it. Night when little was around, and when the sky was bright and clear so little could cloud your mind if such things were possible.

You did not know Lord Howland well still, but he knew much of you. If just what was possibly happening to your mind, even if neither of you had the proper ways to explain it. All he knew was from what he saw of raising his son, and could only guide you from that as he knew it. No matter how much what you might see continued to frighten you.

It seemed from what you could gather, the people who may have answers more would be the free folk, living with wonders beyond the wall as if normal. But as it stood, the ones you knew, weren't currently here and so it left you and Lord Howland to bond. He knew as soon as you told him you dreamt of that day in Dorne, what that meant.

The Godswood felt even colder then normal, as if the nighttime around surrounded your bones even no matter what you could have done to change it. If any ears were listening, it would make little sense to who was there. “If this wasn't the it worked for your son, why do you think it would me?”

Lord Howland walked calm and quiet beside you, as Ghost followed close on the other. The moon high in the sky, no fire was even needed to see, the moonlight shining against the white snow all around as bright as a sun could. “He was only a boy with dreams, but that is how it seems you started, your grace. It begins with dreams, but in lesser time you have surpassed ever what Jojen was able too.”

It felt quiet, very quiet. As if the time had put everything to sleep but you three in the thick woods surrounded the area. “I thought you said he has the Sight.”

You wondered if this sort of confusion was how it felt when the Reed children showed up to help Bran, the confident calm in the man beside you speaking of things you barley comprehended, but had to trust despite how little your brain was wrapping around it. “The Sight, dreams, they are all things which guide others. They are gifted from one with greater abilities to help aid in whatever goals they need people like us to do. My son was gifted the Sight to aid Brandon Stark, perhaps it has been gifted to you for a greater purpose. If your dreams have become visions this strong, then something much stronger then your mind alone might be needed to understand it.”

As the Weirwood came into sight, you shook your head as the pain increased behind it. “And you think Weirwoods have something to do with that?”

His eyes stretched upwards to look upon how red it shined even now, much like the eyes of the direwolf watching in a protective silence. “The First Men believed that greenseers could see through the eyes of the Weirwoods. That the faces in the trees are involved. Somehow connections to them let those with such abilities see things beyond the world you and I can with our own two eyes.”

Coming up beside him, you found something intimidating for the first time about it. A fear of what your mind could become. But it was not stopping, and you had to do something. If you could understand even a sliver of it, maybe that would help. But you had no understanding of what to do, and Lord Howland could only give so much to that. “So, what do I do?”

Turning with nerves running ragged through your limbs wanting to shake, he merely stepped forward as his hand moved from where he had them clasped behind his back to gesture the carved face. “If answers lay here, your grace, only they know how to do it.”

Turning away, you could see Ghost circling around as if to find a point to keep eyes on you properly at any angle. The face sat as it always did, but the only time you came here wondering why you. Whatever this was, why you, why now, why so sudden and why had it taken over your life without any control?

If it was them, what did they want from you? You were nothing to the kinds of old powers Howland Reed spoke of. You weren't even a Northerner. But you stepped forward. Pulling a glove off, you let your fingertips hovered and traced over the white of the bark and felt nothing but as it always stood. Still no answers came, but you kept on there anyways, hoping whatever could see through the faces weren't laughing at you a foolish Southern girl pretending she mattered to their purpose.

Glancing back, your lips parted as if wanting to say something in doubt but you found nothing but a reassuring nod from the man to continue. He was patient if nothing else. Circling along it's surroundings, you felt nothing and nothing as your hand found itself flat upon the bark. Suddenly, you could hear the barking of Ghost without seeing him, until that barking turned to many and more and even though in the same castle walls, everything was different.

Everything was worse, and you had not the consciousness to know why in your present.

The air was grim, though it always was now. He made sure of it. In the thin dresses given to you, there was nothing but a shift under to hide the rest and only you were lucky if the sleeves were long enough you could hide your hands within them.

He did this often, found ways to make a spectacle of how little you could fight back in front of others, just letting it happen so he would not take it out of them and he knew it. So he instead, always made it a show for no pleasures but him and his hounds. Those same hounds you could hear barking up a storm not so far from where you stood.

Ramsay would starve them for days so they would run rabid and aggressive, these big, terrifying hounds that were trained only for him. You were lucky since reaching Winterfell, Roose Bolton would not allow you to leave the castle walls at all. So you were spared from the terror of him using them to hunt you through the woods, as he would force you and Theon to watch him do to others on the journey here.

He loved that. Bringing his vile mistress with him, and together they would drag you and Theon with them to watch them hunt down whomever they saw fit. Sometimes Ramsay would kill them, sometimes Myranda would, many times though, he'd let his hounds tear them to shreds. At least here, he would only throw you in with them if he saw fit.

You'd rather it be done sooner, then be chased and have it end after thinking only long enough you could escape. Once Ramsay and his hounds chased you, there was no way of escaping him. He'd find you, and if you were lucky, would kill you quick.

But today wasn't about hunting, it was about torment. His favourite past time with his two playthings and it was now your turn to bare the brunt of it. “You look cold, my bride.”

Everyone was looking, you knew it, you could feel their eyes and wished they all would turn away and let you be shamed in private. But you were not so lucky, you were the only entertainment Ramsay saw fit to provide.

“Of course, you're not wearing much. Not that you need too, an obedient little bride you are, giving your soon to be husband access whenever he pleases.” His voice slunk up behind you, into your ear and made you shiver with a desperation to escape it. But he would not let you. Circling around like prey to his hunt and dangling you over the burning fire. “Isn't she so well trained? Of course, what use is being available to me at all times if no one truly sees that?”

Hands slunk over you, running along the back of your neck before grabbing hold of it with a roughness that jostled you, your heart speeding up trying not to flinch but failing anyways. He knew you wouldn't speak, wouldn't say a word. Not like this. You made it worse when you talked and you'd rather save that suffering from pity.

“But we aren't married just yet. And a good little bride doesn't whore herself out to any man who comes by asking for it. A good bride waits for her husband to break her in, but that isn't you is it? If I am to be your husband, why don't I deserve a wife that hasn't been broken in already?”

You weren't his wife, you never would be. You were Robb's wife, you were his. He was your husband, not this. It wasn't allowed to be this, and the sting behind your eyes grew. You would cry the second you were given any privacy alone, but never here. Your tears were only for Robb's memory, not Ramsay's cruelty.

His voice became louder, “Maybe the good people would like proof it isn't my fault I have such a whore for a bride. Show them who she really is, so they understand how much work is cut out for me.” Deep in your ear you stiffened and he grinned. “Tell me, do you miss your precious wolves? Would you like to see them again?”

End it now, you begged. End it now, slit your throat and be done with it so you could see your wolf again. But he didn't, he grinned, and stood somewhat behind you, hands on your shoulders as he spoke louder to the eyes of people with no other choice but to watch. “Were I a generous man, I'd do so right here. Prove my own brides worth, let my hounds out and take you themselves. But it wasn't hounds you loved, was it? No, it was your precious wolves that took your innocence when it belongs to me.”

It belonged to Robb. It still belongs to Robb, it always will.

One hand moved down to his waist before trailing up your front between your breasts now with a blade tracing the path with him. The edge just barley able to be heard tearing slight twinges of fabric as he once more grinned. “If you're a lucky girl, I'll find you a pack of real wolves to replace all your dead ones. Strip you right down,” A tear at your front, the fabric between your beasts tearing to expose the thin shift underneath as he continued to pull it downward. “And throw you in with them. We could all finally see our Queen in the North back where she belongs.” One much more aggressive tear, and the dress split enough he could tear it off.

Only your shift remained and you felt your limbs freezing already, your body shaking but you said not a word. “Just something for the wolves to fuck until I kill all of them too. Would you like that, my bride?”

That time, saying nothing was the wrong choice. A smack was felt across the back of your head with the blunt handle of the knife, before he circled round you. Kneeling to meet your eyes, asking again. “I asked if you'd like that?” Once more, you said nothing and that time his own hand smacked you hard enough you fell.

Freezing hands falling to break your fall in the snow as you felt shivering appear all over. “Speak up now, let everyone hear what a little whore my bride always has been.”

Your mind and the memory connected in one instance as a pair of hands grabbed you by your upper arms in front of you. But Ramsay wasn't grabbing you like that, he was behind you now, knife to your shift hissing in your ear as he tempted slicing the rest of it all open the and there.

An entrancing rasp you never thought would grace your mind ever again floated through the air, and warmth that pulled you into a softness. Until you gasped as they said your name louder then Ramsay did.

Weakly did your hands raise up as your mind returned, hands now sat high on Jons chest, his own cupping your cheeks looking you over, murmuring your name softly before surging forward to press a kiss to your forehead. Pulling back he ran a hand over your hair cupping the back of your head. “Hey, you're alright. It's alright, darling, I've got you.”

If it was just slight fear, he might not have gone against what Howland Reed told him, which was to leave you be in the Sight. But you knew, that Jon could tell what specific terror you were seeing. But you wouldn't say it, not to Jon. Some things about Ramsay he didn't ever need to know.

Shaking your head, Jon helped you stand properly from where you seemed to have found yourself more knelt to the ground as you were there. Turning slightly to the side, his voice a tad louder. “Give me a moment with her.”

Lord Howland leaving with a small bow of, “Your Grace,” before leaving just the cold air between you, Jon and Ghost watching silently close by.

The hand still on your cheek ran back and forth, the warm leather soothing the cold against them as he let the hand at your hair rake through it gently again. His voice a low rasp only for you, “You saw Ramsay didn't you? Wherever you were in there.” Nodding, he sighed out, your hands trailing up so one ran along the skin to the back of his neck. “I don't want you out here doing this, if it's going to make you relive these things.”

Shaking your head, both of you noticed the lack of conviction in your own voice. “Jon, it's important I understand whatever this is.” Letting your other hand run down his chest until it slunk beneath his fur cloak to rest at his waist you pulled him just a tad closer as you felt another shiver. “Sometimes it may mean I see things I don't want too.”

“I don't want you going through all that again, what he did to you? You were finally starting to feel better, but now..” He didn't want your mind going back, neither did you, but you didn't like many places your mind and person were taken now.

Your heart felt heavy at the wide, bright look in his eye of something mixing with a heavy worry with a gentle affection. “Everything I've seen, it has to mean something. Maybe it's trying to show us an answer.” Asking to what, you hesitated before your shoulders dropped as did your confidence. “To a question we don't know yet, perhaps. I need to do this, I have to understand it. It's not going away so we have to deal with it.”

Forehead dropping to yours, he sighed deeply. “The second it starts to be too much, I need you to tell me. I'm not letting you push yourself like this more then you already are. You've done enough.” You'd argue if you either thought you could win, which you couldn't. Or if you disagreed.

It was Robb's memory haunting you in your mind there, but it was Jon who was the wolf in front of you now. He was the one who had done enough, but Jon would never stop doing things, fighting for others as long as someone had too. Maybe, he was right. Maybe your place wasn't a fight anymore, maybe it was something else and you were the one who needed to accept that.

Your purpose couldn't be something risking your life now, beacuse perhaps, your purpose was the man right in front of you. For whatever reason, you didn't know, but you didn't want that reason to trouble him anymore. That wasn't what he deserved.

Pulling him a tad closer, you leaned against the Weirwood as Jon wrapped an arm gently around your waist to pull you in. Your head finding his neck as he pressed a kiss to where his lips landed in your hair to muffle against it. “It's happening to you without your control, I don't want you willingly doing it everyday too. If you're out here, I don't want to find you like this every time.”

There was no true conviction in his order, but you nodded. Wrapping your arms around him more, easing yourself into his comforting warmth. “As my King, commands.”

You felt both a breathy chuckle against you and the smirk he gave doing it. Kissing your hair once more, he pulling you back to look you properly in the eyes, nothing but an affection left. “Since when do you listen to me just beacuse I order it?”

Only a shrug came in response, making him grin more. “Since now.”

Jon shook his head this time, “Good, beacuse my next order is for you to let me warm you up with a nice bath, and find you something to eat for once.” Your smile soft and easy as your tone was light as you asked him if it was in that order. But Jon only narrowed his eyes as he ran his nose over the length of yours. “Call it an excuse to hold you for a while.”

Pulling you very gently to your feet, he kept you tucked to his side without any care of how much the other seemed to cling. It always was like this for a while after your mind did this now. Relying on him, and Jon being glad you let yourself do so. Only with Jon, did you find yourself liking needing his comfort to lean against so much. “I'm your wife now, you can do that whenever you like.”

Perhaps something more playful would've been on his mind, but he still could see the terror on your face. Teasing could come later, for now, his only duty was to make sure you didn't fall asleep that night as haunted as you looked now.

He couldn't bring himself to do it, so easily let you explore such facets of ability when each time he watched it grow harder on you. It was brutal and tormenting, and he refused to sacrifice your well being just to understand what was happening. There were other ways, and he'd figure those out himself.

Constant influxes of reports from the castles guarding the wall, searching for answers on his own, working with what Sam kept finding and connecting things from there as well as building up the defences of the North and training his people. Jon felt swarmed with things to do, but he had to do them and he would happily add taking on what you felt like your responsibilities as long as you didn't end everyday looking as unsettled as you looked now.

But still he thought, why was his family like this? Associated so strongly with something not of this world, why did the blood of the Starks all feel as if something were unique about them when it was not as such for those like his father, like his Uncle Benjen. And why did it now inflict you? The world begged Jon to care about the wars in it's own soils, but his father had told him, he was of the North.

And it was the North that called to Jon more then the running of a Kingdom as normal. His focus has to be on the worst coming and the here and now, and it was a balancing act he struggled with when half of that were things he barley understood. You were good at the day to day things, so that became the focus Jon wanted for you.

Let him do the struggling work and you do the things which laid off on the torment in your eyes at the end of each night. Jon just wished that he could trust you would let it stay that way. But he knew you dreamt strange visions and nightmares too, and as he would lay awake at night, keeping you close in his arms watching you, there was not a thing he could do to stop what was happening in your mind as much as he wasn't able to his own strangeness.

The Winter storms were fast approaching, and they begged answers Jon had not yet discovered the questions too. He just wished the answers didn't seem to lie inside your mind, and yet Jon continued to not tell you of his own dreams. You slept beside him, but he still dreamt of you in visions as if you were thousands of miles away. Your mind was trying to give answers to one thing, Jons the answers to you.

The world was nothing but a mess and everyone in it, but all Jon could do was grab onto those he cared about and hope he was strong enough to keep them close when it all would blow over in the freezing cold.

With a tilt of his head, you could see the pouring amount of petty annoyance dripping from Gendry's expression.

Taking the moment to work over the metal in front of him, you had stopped to see him in the armoury, and Gendry happy to have a distraction. If not with attitude. “You weren't lying when you said everyone in this family is insufferable.”

Of all things, you knew choosing that moment to look away with a smirk only proved his point thus further. So far the only ones who knew who Gendry really was, remained the two of you, Ser Davos, Selyse, and Jon. Gendry wasn't particularly happy at first when you informed him you had told Jon the truth, he had been avoiding him ever since. Not a family in your blood good with facing your problems head on, but in turn you only looked flatly at him. “So which version of him should I have lied to? The part of him that is my husband, or the part of him that is my King?”

He had in turn glared at you with not genuine malice behind it, “You saying you always have told all these Kings you know the truth about everything?”

Many years had gone by since you had any companionship like Gendry. You were far less quick on the tongue with him now compared to your days spent with Renly. Similar they both were, you could see easily the Baratheon charm in his blood, his humour, the ease of how snarky he could be and the degree to which mocking and teasing came at others expense. But he was easier going then Renly, and coming from a life of low birth meant there was nothing about his intentions anywhere you completely mistrusted.

Staring notably as you thanked Olly for something, and who walked off without a word, your head fell to the side slightly, holding a sigh back. Blinking once before turning your attention to the metal work between you both, you felt Gendry's stare as the boy left. Asking what was wrong with him, you shook your head properly before barrelling passed it. It was Olly's pain to work through, and if he wanted to do so in silence towards you, then so be it. But you wouldn't do him a disservice by discussing it with others.

The conversation had mostly turned to him elaborating on the stories he told you that first night in Barrowton, leading to somewhat of a petty disagreement that now sat between you. Mostly, regarding the choice to bring Thoros of Myr and Beric Dondarrian, with you. He kept no anger from his eyes or voice out here.

“Everything they did to you-”

Turning with a sharp glare, you cut him off quick. “They did not do any of that. Stoneheart did. It was her orders, her choice. I won't blame them for someone else's actions.” You could see there was something else on his mind when you spoke before he could once more. “You're allowed to be angry with them but don't pretend you're doing it on my behalf.”

The silence between you both was stubborn, glares sent the others way before he broke first. “Fine. I'm mad beacuse they said I could stay and be one of them, and then they sold me to the red woman and now it feels like I'm surrounded by all this shit all over again.”

Your face fell almost impassive looking. “Do you think you're the only one surrounded by the things that haunt you?” Gendry's eyes narrowed at you, but your voice was as rough and held back as your expression. “You reached out to me Gendry. I don't want you feeling as if I am forcing you to stay here. If you can't handle them being here then you shouldn't make yourself uncomfortable by doing so. But you aren't the only one here who has to look at the things that caused your suffering every single day.”

“I'm not leaving.”

Quick on the draw, you raised an eyebrow with a tone as even as could be. “No of course not, then who would be there to give Arya those disgusting love sick gazes every day.” It was his turn to go wide eyed, an offensive stammering as if he had anything to negate the notion when you moved towards the main courtyard. “Do yourself a favour, don't get caught staring at her like that in front of the King. The warning he will let you off with won't be quite as cavalier as mine.”

Trying to follow you, a struggle to keep his tone even as noticed easily. “She's a friend, she means a lot to me that's all there is to it-”

Face twisting into an easy disbeleif you looked back at him, “Who are you trying to convince?”

You trusted them little, but you still sat against the wall outside the iron bars. Thoros had most of the answers you sought, or at least he had the interest to do the talking to you. Beric watched in a careful silence most of the time as you were down there. “She served the Lord of Light as I did, it was not my place to assume her intentions.”

Your eyes glared over to him, waiting until he met the gaze before dropping them back down to your lap. Focusing once more away from Beric's stare. “No, it was your intentions to sell him off like cattle with no idea if he would even live through it. Which, if you both were wondering, he almost didn't.”

Legs spread out flat in front of you with one ankle resting gently over the other, you let your head fall flat against the stone behind you, a raise in tone a little more on the edge of condescending. “Correct me if I'm wrong, but it's beginning to sound as if the charges are piling up against you two.”

Thoros let out a chuckle, coming up more as a hum in his chest as he looked away. “We have been in far worse places then here, your grace.”

Rather short, it sounded from your mouth more angry and dismissive then you had intended. “So have I.” Turning back to look at them both, your voice kept the same but something more sorrowful sat in your gaze then theirs, as you nodded to Beric. “You think those scars are anything? The only thing you lost each time was your life.”

Not much could be said, they heard as much as any else did that night. There was little which refuted that the two of them didn't have any legs to stand on. Beric's tone was quiet as he finally found his voice from where he sat. “And what has your King seen?” The only indication you heard, was your eyes slightly flickering up forwards but did not commit to finding his face in return. “The true fight we are here for. He understands death, he understands returning to life as we do, but does he truly understand what we are up against? How much more important it is then-”

Closer to something akin to a growl as you felt your nails tense in your own palms, digging deeper by the second. “He understands better then you two. Better then any of us.” Finally seeking their gaze, taken back themselves with the darker colours painting your eyes in a seethe. “Whatever your god has shown you is nothing compared to what we are really up against. But what do we have left if we sacrifice everything and everyone we have to stop it? What's left in the world if we treat the people we care about as that creature leading you? What are we fighting for if we let ourselves become as bitter and hollow as she?”

Beric's voice was a whisper, only heard in the echo of the dungeon. “Survival alone isn't enough?”

Your lips parted to answer, but not your voice which spoke out in the darkness. That one was holding far too deep and rough of a rasp to come from you. “No. It isn't.”

Nodding for the guards to wait outside, Jon moved in between them as the door closed behind him. Were you the one in the cell, you would've said he looked rather intimidating this way. Fur dark and broad over his shoulders and the only light in the fire making the blacks in his clothes, hair, eyes all shine in a shadowing way as he approached. Voice low as he stared down both of them you sat on the other side of. “If I let people like you do whatever you want in your gods name, what's going to even be left for us to care about if we win?”

Motioning with barley a twitch of his fingers at the sudden gesture of you moving to stand, Jon came before you, now in between you and the bars as he now blocked part of their view of you, your eyes only able to see the fur and cloak draped down his shoulders, and his hair up and back.

Beric this time was the talker, and Thoros found it in him to be quiet. It seemed both men had their targets of conversation in mind beforehand. “And I would say it's on the side of selfish to think we are the ones who matter. The world we live in matters, not the whims and wishes of the people in it.”

You'd be willing to wager Jon's eyes were growing in a painting from grey to more of a black as the tensity in his shoulders increased. “Have you ever known what it feels like to think you have no one in the world who cares about you?” Heart in your chest twisted as did his, like you both could feel the pain wrapping around the same vines tethering you both to one another as he looked down at them. “I have. I know what losing everything and everyone you care about feels like, it didn't make me feel as if I was doing the right thing. Just made me feel angry. And alone.”

Both men had lost much and Beric more in himself but still, you knew they didn't understand. Not the way you did. Your foot by his just barley shifted to lean against what you could reach of his ankle as if that sensation over all that blocking your skin to his, still was enough to send a shiver up Jons spine. Your voice behind him was equally as quiet, but more breathless in a knowing. “You don't give people a selfish reason to keep going, and they just won't. They'll give up and let winter take them instead of fighting for the nothing they have left.”

From where you were, you couldn't see Beric as Jon likely intended, but you could once more meet the eyes of Thoros. And that feeling chilled in your mouth swallowing down to your lungs as he watched you through Berics words. “We are the Lords servants. You, me, all four of us. We serve him and that is why we have all come together. What we want beyond that no longer matters.”

It was morose. A dreary thought full of no life or love being asked of you and yet that deep love is what drove every action Jon chose. It was what kept him going better then everyone else you'd ever know, Jon was made of something different then any man you had ever met and without that need to protect and love, there would only be the darkest parts of himself left. And he didn't deserve that.

“What would you have me do, walk you out to my people, the ones who lost their loved ones beacuse of your men and tell them their grief doesn't matter?” They wouldn't know Jon well enough to pick up on the edge, but something of a nerve was struck. Something you didn't quite know how deep it was rooted, and yet you felt it ping in your own chest as if your pain. “Or that it shouldn't matter to them if they'll ever be happy again? You two put me in a position where keeping you alive is the right thing to do, but not beacuse you deserve it.”

If Thoros would stop looking at you, maybe you would have found it in you to stand by Jons side to try and even that anger but you felt pinned to the wall with something unnerving. You were truly starting to hate these priests and priestesses of this bloody fire god. They all looked at you the same, as if they knew something you didn't when none of their knowledge ever meant anything to you.

Jon gestured back to you with that edge only sharpening like a blade. “You're alive beacuse of her, and only her. I'd have executed you for what you did, what you almost let..” He struggled to find it in him to call her who she was supposed to be as much as you did. “Almost let that woman do. You can speak to her when she comes to you, but I'm not letting you try and convince her everything she already died for doesn't matter.”

Beric had no emotion in his voice which was different then the last. “And what did you die for, your grace?” If he thought he had Jon on something, he was wrong.

Jon didn't hesitate, but you did feel the weight in his tone heavy as it always was whenever someone was brave enough to bring it up, which was uncommon. “I died for her. She was being kept prisoner here, and escaped. So I tried to go after her, to find her and protect her beacuse I love her.” Don't let them see the clawing at your chest you told yourself, don't clam up now at how freely he could say it any and everyone when in this very home years ago you two were too scared to share those words. “I didn't die for any fight, I died beacuse the men who betrayed me didn't want me to protect the woman I love.”

Finally, Thoros peeled his eyes up. A pale blue that begged a small ask which had not the intentions in his companion. “And where are the men who betrayed you, for betraying the cause you swore your life too?”

Jon, had the only answer that mattered. “Dead. And they didn't come back, one way or another. Not beacuse your god didn't need them, but beacuse no one cared about them enough to even try. If you died, my lord, can you say there is anyone out there who would bring you back?”

Thoros didn't argue that Beric would, nor did Beric speak up for him. And in honest, as Jon stood there that made him feel a bit unwell. There was not a thing any could do to stop him from bringing you back if Jon lost you again, and he knew without any doubt that you would be the same for him. If bringing Beric back to life tethered their fates together like Jons to you, it was tiny in comparison.

Jon had a purpose to protect the North and his people, but he had just enough room for that purpose to also be you. His cause was helping the North survive and fight before the army of the dead could destroy anything South beyond them. But Jon knew, the only reason he wanted to do any of that was beacuse he had people he cared about.

He had many he cared about, Ghost, Sam, Tormund, Edd, but now he had more family then he ever imagined once upon a time. He had you, the woman he loved more then anyone else, more then he could love any other person. But now? He also had Arya again. And Jon too, would not hesitate to kill anyone who tried hurting her, wouldn't hesitate on anything if someone tried to take his baby sister away again.

Jon fought for a purpose, but he lived for you all. Ghost and his girls, that's what Jon lived for. His direwolf, his wife, his sister, and his mother. Jon would never consider her life a casualty needed for something else.

He had been speaking more and more to Howland Reed. Of Rhaegar's actions in the rebellion, and from what he had figured out on his own. He knew some from his son Jojen, but they were always spoken in confusion, not understanding what he saw without his father painting the picture. And perhaps that's why this idea made him sick. That you needed to sacrifice everything for one purpose and damn the people in your life or what happens to them to get there.

The rebellion, the lives lost and ruined, Jons grandfather and uncle burned alive that started it all, none of it was really about Lyanna. It was about Jon, and he felt that burning hatred grow. All Rhaegar needed was to pretend he could fufill some delusion. Once he had raped Lyanna Stark enough to know she was pregnant, he left for war beacuse Jons existence was all that mattered.

Noble knights, skilled Kingsuard and valiant men like the Sword of the Morning did not fight his father and six other men to the death to hide a dying teenage girl from her brother. They had fought to keep the Last Dragon's third child, last living child, from being taken away from whatever destiny the crown prince had thought was his.

Jons father by birth created him from blood and violence beacuse he thought destiny was all that mattered, but the father Jon lost, the father Jon missed everyday? He had taken Jon in as his own son, beacuse he knew what mattered was loving him.

To Jon, as he stood there staring down Beric Dondarrian, he thought to himself, this was exactly the kind of dangerous mentality that Rhaegar had ruined the Seven Kingdoms with. And Jon refused to lead like that into the storms of winter. He wasn't special or a hero, he was just a dead man who had to fight beacuse the innocent deserved someone who stands up for their right to live.

It wasn't until he felt a slight pressure near the fur across his shoulder blades did he realize you had stood up. Breaking his dark glare at the man, he turned to you and the grey returned far softer then before in a split moment. His name soft on your lips like a sirens call that calmed him instead of crazed his mind, that was all it took to bring Jon back down.

Men like this, like Rhaegar fought for fate and destiny. Jon though, looked at you as you held that narrow eyed concern, that silence gazing at him begging him to let you take care of him instead and felt impatient inside now. Turning back to them, Jon let his arm drift across your waist to pull you into his side ever so carefully to not jostle you. His gaze back on the two men as his tone was short and rigid and what came out of it was so unexpected you almost let a laugh burst you. “By the way, I wouldn't let her come down here, but Arya wanted me to tell you both to burn in hell.”

Jon dragged you along with him to leave, and as soon as the door closed behind him did a smirk find its way onto his lips as a breathless laugh did yours. Your side leaning more comfortingly into his as Jon adjusted his grip to keep you against him while walking. “They are behind bars, I presume she would be safe enough.”

Muttering just as low in your ear, Jons eyes brightened watching your own laugh grow at his next words. “It's not her safety I'd be worried about.”

He was trying to keep you away from things, you were sure of it. Taking so much of it onto himself and hide the worst from you, but it left you feeling on the side of rather useless. Trying to do things to ease the amount of weight on his shoulders without going against his words or wishes. But Jon didn't make that a simple task, not with how well he paid attention to you.

Always meeting with someone or another, having to handle this and that and go over the running of a kingdom with trying to save it and everytime you offered your help, Jon would pull you to him with a hand gentle at the back of your head to press a kiss, murmuring he was handling it.

Jon's mind always running around something, even now curls loose, dressed down and settled he stood by the fire in his chambers, a hand braced on the stone above as you could see his mind unable to stop. Likely he barley even heard you, coming up quietly behind him until your palms ran flat up against his back until you were mostly pressed against him. Voice soothing as you leaned up closer to his ear, “Jon.”

Sighing out, Jon let his free hand reach behind him, grabbing at one of your arms to pull it around and wrapped by his front, your other hand willingly doing the same as he grabbed one of your hands, holding it there as best he could from that angle. Rasping low, “We haven't been together since our fight.”

It wasn't anger nor judgment, yet you suspected the trace of insecurity seeping through the doubt you could detect. Leaning your front more against him, you pressed a kiss where the back of his head you could reach first, mumbling against his curls. “I'm sorry.”

Jon shook his head, but there was something else attached to it that weighed on him. His brows furrowed and from what you could see, something more upset on his face then he wanted you to know about. “Don't be, it's not your fault. I just can't figure out if it's only about Ramsay..or if it..” Prompting him to continue, murmuring his last words with an ask to continue, Jon sighed deeply again. That time his voice was certainly insecure. “If it has to do with you learning the truth. About me.”

Were you strong enough, you'd have turned him in your arms to face you instantly. Rather you even tried slinking from his grasp as you gently murmured his name, “Jon,” But he kept you in place, and it pained you. He didn't want you to see how upset the thought made him. As if you cared about that sort of thing. “Why would that have anything to do with us?”

Forehead resting more against his shoulders, as if trying to nuzzle as close to him as possible. Were you not right there, you wouldn't have heard him so clearly. “Being in love with Eddard Stark's bastard is one thing, but it's a whole other to say you want to be with a son of Rhaegar Targaryean.” Oh you knew that stiffness in his body was a desperation to keep that resolve as together as he could.

How long has that been a fear? How long has he been worrying that was it?

Head dropping to what you could of his neck, you left a long but tender kiss to the skin until you felt him relax even the tiniest bit. “Jon, I've suspected this since our first night on Dragonstone. And not anytime after did that ever cross my mind as something against you.” You pressed another, and a third trying to reach his jaw, barley scratching your lips to his facial hair. “Who your blood is has nothing to do with wanting to be with you. I've wanted to be with you since I was a girl, and I'm not about to change that now. You are not someone's son to me, you're Jon Snow. You're my King, and the man I love. No one else is allowed to have a say in that. Not anymore.”

Head dropping a little, he held your hand tighter before taking the hand braced on the stone to grab your other free one and bring it up to his lips. A kiss long and almost needing left on the back of it before he held it more against his chest. It took him a good moment to find any words, and you let him take whatever length of time he needed. “Ever since I came back, I'm always worried I'll scare you. I've never wanted anything more then the way I want you. And it scares me to think I'm too much for you..or you'll realize where that comes from and want nothing to do with it.”

Your heart beat too painfully, you needed to tame this now before it broke you or him. But it was the small smile you saw forming on his face as you spoke that said choosing the lighter path was the right one. “I hate it to be the bearer of obvious news, Snow. But you've always been like this, bringing you back didn't change that. It just means sometimes we add more inappropriate things to what we do, now.” Voice whispering softer, you rested your head somewhat against the side of his. “And it isn't anything. It isn't a Rhaegar thing or even a Ned Stark thing. It's just you. This is how you and I are and no one else has anything to do with that.”

Finally, you felt Jon turn his head just enough to the side he pressed against you a little easier as he muttered roughly, “No, I know it's different this time. Something changed when you brought me back, every moment I'm not with you feels like hell.”

“I don't see anything wrong with that so far.” Jon called your name in a bit of a sternness, finally breaking the hold between you both as he turned to face you. Only, you reached up first. Cupping both of his cheeks, letting your thumbs run gently along his jaw as you felt his hands settle instantly on your waist to pull you closer. “We spent six years trying to not go too far. And now after everything that's happened, we're back here. Together. Maybe this is just our way of making up for lost time. Beacuse I have no complaints about the way you care about me. So if you are not going to let me talk down about myself to you, I will not let you do the same about yourself.”

Running his hands along your waist, you found yourself unable to look away from the bright shine in his grey eyes. A sight you'd never get enough of, as well as the entrancing husk always so deep and rough attached to his voice. “I'm not trying to pressure you. I miss you, that's all.”

Exhaling, you looked up at him quietly for a moment. In some moments Jon was just as insecure about things as you were and it made sense why he fought against that noise so loudly in your head. Jon shouldn't have worries like that, and you felt none of the panic that stopped you before this time.

Leaning up, Jon took over to close the gap between your lips himself as soon as he caught on. Your hands drifted behind him, running through his curls as he reached up to keep your lips in his kiss, hands holding your cheeks with much more urgency then you had his.

Soft and memorizing, but still needing and harsh. Deepening his kiss with every breathe from you he stole, and easily begun to pull small high pitched sounds from you. Gifting the noises into his kiss as it all made him rumble deep in his chest. Pressing himself much more firmly against you as his teeth just barley nibbled your bottom lip. You of course, granted him permission with a shameless ease.

Licking into your mouth, Jon brushed his tongue against yours. Coaxing you to follow ,to explore him as much as he adored doing to you. Your nails scratched along his scalp, and a deep growl came from his chest. His hand tilting your head up more to be at his mercy, keeping you at a perfect position to taste each time he let his tongue slip back to brush along yours.

His other hand moved to trail down your neck, thumb running along the middle of your throat and down, wasting no time nor having the patience to play nice. A rough hand sliding into the collar of your dress, finding your breast and groping with a rough greed. Your insides twisted almost right away and you gasped as his fingers roughly twisted the small bud peaking for his touch.

Almost as if Jon was kissing you in the same rhythm his hand and fingertips teased you, his other joined finally, gently pulling your dress's collar down indecently until he pulled away from your lips with a bite. Frustrated at the fabric Jons eyes flew down to gauge what he had to work with, and instead choosing to yank it down with a tear in the fabric, exposing your breasts to him and the cold air of his room.

Eyes black as the night sky outside, Jon's face was harsh and close to stern should you not know better as he just stared with no guilt nor shame. As if you were on display for him, Jon suddenly grabbing your hip and guiding you further into the room, the back of your knees hitting the bed. Not letting you fall back onto it, he gathered the material of both sides of the skirt, finding nothing underneath of a shift he exhaled, almost pausing before taking it all off.

He let it drop wherever it landed as he guided you to sit, but you had nothing but eyes for his black, harsh ones all over you. Kneeling down however, his touch was gentle when his gaze was pure greed, grabbing at the sides of the only fabric left covering you and pulling it down slowly. Giving you the chance to lift your hips to left him, his head dropping to carefully take it off from each leg.

But then he stayed knelt there. The fabric clutched tightly in his hand as Jon just stared at you, at what was between your legs, before trailing up to your scar and staying silent as he looked to it just as long. Your eyes so focused on his intense ones, had you entirely miss Jon not letting your underwear join what was to be a continued pile of clothes, rather he shoved it in a pocket of his own knowing your gaze was too distracted to see.

Finding your eyes once more, your own hands reached out in an instant, unlacing the middle of his shirt with more care then needed considering how bare Jon had you. Pushing it gently along his shoulders and tossing it more purposely somewhere safe in the distance, Jon was entirely silent as you did the same reaching for his pants. One hand of his cupped your cheek, leaning in enough to nudge your nose with his as his other helped make the process move quicker.

But you however, had other ideas sneaking up in your mind. Prompting Jon to stand up so you could pull them off, the second he stepped out of them Jon had the intention of kneeling between your legs once more to finally taste you as he was so desperate too, but you were quicker then his slower mind was feeling looking at you.

The warmth between your legs grew wet at the sight, as if it were possible to forget, your lungs hitched only for a moment as you looked at him. Cock was long, and despite being with him you swallowed almost nervously at how thick he was. You could feel the sting already and yet, you only craved that more and more. Hard as he could be, tinged slightly red as it begged for attention and you knew Jon would deny it in your favour. Too bad.

The moment your hands gently grasped his hips, one of his hands found your hair, raking through it as he looked down at you with eyes wide and bright. His akin to a frown while your expression being a genuine ask of permission. It wasn't his favourite, he preferred anything else he could do to you, but Jon was weak to the hopeful ask in your eyes. As if the politeness you waited for him to approve of with made his cock throb more then if you were greedy and debauched.

You wanted him to give you permission.

Running through your soft stands, Jons gaze softened, his voice barley audible as the heavy accent murmured through the weighted desire in his veins. “Go on,”

Nodding in his touch, Jon let out a shaking breathe just as your eyes slipped closed. You wanted to focus, only on him only what felt good. Jon so rarely let himself be the one receiving, he wanted to give and give he wanted to do the work but he deserved to be worshipped, and you wanted to be the one giving the offering before the idol. But all you could offer, was your mouth.

Only grasping his thick cock enough to guide you, your hand couldn't even wrap around him properly, a gentle lick along his tip and you instantly felt his hand tighten in your hair along with a hiss from above in your ears. A hum left your throat without notice, the thick taste of what seed already leaked from him as you tasted it like it was there just for you. Jon gave another shaking breathe, trying to control himself as you finally pressed a kiss like any other. One to his tip, and many more so gentle down his entire length. Never gripping him tight in your hand or stroking him, just a gentle hold so you could kiss and leave tiny licks to properly soak him better.

You trailed down one way, pressed a kiss at a tough angle along his lower hips, face brushing against the coarse, rough black hair at the base of his cock before moving kissing and licking down the other side. A light grip the whole way until you unwrapped your fingers, trailing them tenderly along his hips back to hold yourself steady against him.

Jon's hand in your hair adjusted, a sturdier grip as he, himself, contained the desire to ask you to look up at him. But he let you work, and as soon as you licked the tip of his cock until you gently took just that in your mouth, Jon realized how much you with your eyes closed, just enjoyed it as you tried to sigh around him.

You felt the stretch, but continued. Letting the saliva accumulate to properly soak him each inch you let him slide deeper. Only part way before you pulled back and sunk your mouth back on him. Back and forth did you suck him only half, Jon tensed under your hands but said nothing. He rarely did here, words didn't come easy to him normally let alone with this. You could hear his breathing pick up as you soaked his cock more and more, easing yourself into taking more of him at once.

You knew you could but gods he was long and merciless how thick he stretched anywhere inside of you like this. Fingertips flexing against his hips, Jon muttered inaudibly under his breathe as you got closer to taking his whole length. Not once did you pull off, the heaviness on your tongue, the salty taste of his seed as thick as he was coating your taste buds as you had to relax yourself.

Just as you came close, Jon's other hand moved. Grasping at one of your hands on his hips, trying to hold whatever of your fingers he could tightly and in that same instance did you whine as you took the rest of him down throat. “Gods..” Nose brushing against the hair at his base, you felt that overwhelming sensation of panic but yet you still slid almost all the way to the tip and then slowly right down all the way deep once more.

A hum in your throat, each time you pulled closer to off, your core twisted between the fight of needing air and reprieve, and craving the feeling of taking him deep again. Jons hands gripped your fingers and hair tight each time you sunk deep on him, the later trying desperately not to pull you down himself at his own pace.

Sucking and licking any and every sort of way on his cock, you almost made more noise then him, even in just tiny sounds deep from within at wanting more, wanting to taste everything he could spill down your throat with, wanting to feel him let go. Jon's head fell back, jaw clenched tight as he tried to contain every growl and groan trapped in his mouth. Throbbing in you, he raked his hand through the strands once more before dropping back down to look at you. Your eyes still closed, but Jons were wide and blown out in need. Mouth parted as he watched your head bob up and down on his cock, only ever doing what he knew was for his entire pleasure, wanting him to get the most out of it.

If his younger self could see such an image, Jon knew he would've lost his mind.

Deep husk against his voice in the air was harmonizing with the crackling of the fire, and the soft, wet sounds of your mouth around him. Jon wished he could make this exciting, make it filthy and vulgar just to be different but what slipped out was far too entrenched in affection. “Darling, fuck- look at yourself. You shouldn't enjoy this as much as you do, I know it's a lot for you to take,” Jons hand once more ran smoothly down your hair at the back of your head, subtly shifting your pace a little more shallow and a little deeper.

It was a strain on you, taking him so deep so consistently but gods did you hate pulling off him. As if it got harder and harder to stay away, Jon himself kept pushing you forward to take more and more of him as the whine in your chest rose up, fingertips flexing tightly against hips as you eagerly took him deep. You wanted to taste him, wanted Jon to spill down your throat so badly, you wanted him to enjoy something only for him.

Closer and closer did you feel him throb in your mouth, did the rambling grow through the thickness of such a deep Northern accent. “You are so beautiful. Don't deserve such a sweet, beautiful girl taking me like this.” You tried to argue back, but barley got anything passed the minor sound of nonsense protest. The hand on your hair slid slightly to hold closer to the side of your face, thumb running along the skin against your cheeks.

Your eyes closed, but Jon could see the tears slipping down he was so deep in your mouth, for so long with nothing to be your salvation. You would find only that once his seed was in your stomach. He wished he didn't groan your name so deeply, hold you tighter and throb more intensely at the sight but he did. Overwhelming such a small mouth so easily with his size and he wanted to fill it more and more until you had to swallow his every drop just to breathe again.

That was when his hand tightened, his voice dropped roughly. “Let me control the pace, alright?” Not an order, but Jon didn't like that anyways. He liked giving such gentle commands and waiting for you to agree which you always did.

Trying to relax as much as possible, Jon decided to return to your earlier pattern. Pulling you almost all the way off before pushing you all the way down, only his pace was faster. His pace was less kind and your moans and whines only made his cock harder. You were now just along for the journey, and you wanted no other use for your mouth then right here.

Faster and faster did Jon move you along his cock, his ramblings sometimes made sense, sometimes didn't but they were always mumbled or slurring as if he had no control of what the words were. “Fuck, you feel so good, doing so well- Taking me like you were meant too, mouth, cunt, everything made for me..let me spill down your throat, and I'll make you feel good. I promise darling, you just- just have to swallow everything I give you,”

Calling your name at attention, you moaned against him. A vague sound of your name before Jon more gentle then he ever had, carefully pulled your head down to take his cock deep as you could. Your nose pressed tight against the black hair, and Jons hand caressed the back of your head as he held your hand without failure.

Muscles tensing under your fingertips greatly, so did the strain in his voice and pain in your jaw as his cock stretched your mouth. Snapping, Jon finally came. Thick spurts of his seed poured down your throat deeply, spilling more and more as you swallowed around him, only making it worse. It was a taste you teared up at wanting to have had again, and your hands tensed tightly as muffled gagging came as Jon's seed was so copious in how much he fed you.

Not looking away from you the entire time, Jon kept you close as his mouth agape groaned your name like a quiet plea and kept you gently pressed against him while his cock was filling your mouth with him and his seed both. He wasn't even finished yet when he started up, breathless as anything, “Let me taste you, darling. I want- I need to taste you, I've missed you so much. You going to let me between you, make you feel good?”

A nod as you still swallowed him, milking every drop you were allowed to have until Jon hissed, pulling you off himself. Your mouth dripped as you gasped with the remains of your saliva and his seed, but did Jon not care. Grabbing both your cheeks, he leaned down finally, capturing your lips. Hands running though your hair, you felt his cock still just as unbelievably hard as he pressed you back into the furs of his bed, your legs spreading to accommodate him in an instant.

Barley pulling from your lips, Jon brushed against them as he spoke, “You're perfect, everything about you.” You shook your head, but Jon tilted your head enough he could rest his forehead against yours, both your eyes squeezed shut tightly, you could feel him frowning. “I love you, alright? I'd do anything for you, now let me do this one thing.”

You bit your lip, but Jon soothed it with a soft kiss, one to your lips, then forehead then finally trailing downward along your neck. “Jon,” Ignoring you, the needy high pitch of your voice giving away the blatant want, you had no other words. Neck with gentle kisses and brushes of his tongue down to your collarbones, Jons hands reached up to grasp tightly once more at your breasts.

Groping tightly with this thumbs running over the buds before pulling at each, your back arching up with a gasp. Hands grasping at his curls, and your hips moved to meet with his pushing into yours, Jons length now soaked from your mouth and just as hard brushing against your inner thigh. One bite after another and suddenly, with the yank of his fingers did Jon bite and tug at the other with his teeth, the core inside of you burning hot and nowhere to let it out but writhe against his touch and tighten hands in his hair.

Bruising the skin as your muscles tightened trying to contain the gasps in you, but Jons mouth was unforgiving and rough. Marking you up and this time the more you so eagerly moved against him the rougher and rougher he got, the more growls in his chest came out as his hands left marks of his fingertips as well as indents of his teeth.

If Jon was anything it was currently greedy. Yanking his mouth from your breasts, you felt them sting in the air as Jon grabbed a hand in his curls. Placing it up and beside your head against the fur below, he bit at your lip all the same. “Stay just like this, I'm going to take care of you.” You almost whined his name not even knowing what you were trying to ask when he kissed you gentle, hand now cupping your cheek and pulling back. “No, relax and enjoy yourself. That's a command, darling.”

You'd laugh if he didn't have you so worked up, so heart poundingly overwhelmed at how good his bare frame felt against yours, how soft his lips were and how much he changed to rough the second he grasped and bit at your breasts before returning to soft and slow. Trailing his lips along the scar, Jon hovered over it for a moment longer then you knew by until he slunk down on the bed.

Prying your legs wide, Jon moved one to sit with your foot flat as far as he could push it, while wrapping an arm around your other thigh, holding it up and wide closer to his head. You felt his warm breathe hovering over your clit, as if contemplating himself which way he wanted you, but he chose the path he couldn't keep up.

Small, gentle brushes of his tongue along your clit, he would then trail it along your thighs, kissing the length and back to your clit with his tongue and then once more to the other thigh. A pattern until he pressed his tongue wider against you and dove right in.

Flat against your core, Jon licked down to to drink up everything already there as he groaned. Pressing his forehead against your mound for a moment, “You get this wet just having my cock in your mouth?”

Pushed up on your elbows you looked down to see his dark curls rise up just enough to catch his dark gaze as you bit your lip with a nod of yes. Jon practically letting his eyes roll into the back of his head, he yanked your hips more up to him, leaning his head down to properly taste you. His tongue sinking deep inside as he could reach, the cry leaving your mouth nowhere to be stopped.

Hands clutching at the furs your head flew back just as much, his tongue brushing against something sparkingly sensitive, and refusing to come back up for any air as he growled into your soaking cunt at the taste. Drinking from you as if the only thing you were made for, was to spread wide for him, his mouth, tongue, cock. All of you made for Jon alone.

His hold on your thighs tightened as you arched your back up into his touch, one hand flying back down to pull at his curls and it only made him more aggressive in his greed. Which in turn gave you the same reaction and round you both went. Driving the other wild, but Jon was the one twisting that feeling inside you with licks now ensuring he let nothing go anywhere but his tongue.

Yanking your thigh up in his hold higher, Jon made a deep sound vibrating against you. The shiver running up your spine and leaving through your lips in a soft cry. Already you could feel sweat starting to drench your hair against the heat around you and building white hot from within. Drawing you closer and closer to that edge and just as your hand grasped tight, and your back arched with a plead of his name a mantra did the feeling get ripped from you.

Eyes flying shut tightly as you tried to contain your protest, as did the air in your lungs hold. Jons touch did not leave, pressing further more his lips along your thigh as he grew bolder with indenting his teeth to leave his mark for only him to see.

Returning to feast only once he could feel you relaxing in his touch, and no longer bothering to build up that time. Tongue flat against your core running up to work purposely over your clit, letting his facial hair rub raw against your sensitive skin and burn you outside as well as in. The twisting inside you screamed hot and fast, less begging able on your lips and just as Jon let his teeth barley scrape along the bundle of nerves, you almost flinched from him.

Jon knew you however, grabbing you by your hip with his other hand and holding you tightly against his mouth. A pattern switching in his licks just as you were able to catch your breathe and then all over once more until he felt you shake around his touch once more. And once more thus, it was taken from you.

Trying to call his name weakly, Jon shushed you quietly. Pressing a kiss to your clit and then your mound as he ran that hand along your hip to waist and back comfortingly. Murmuring low as his dark eyes peered up at you, your hands barley moving other then tight fists in the fur below and his curls as your eyes sealed shut trying to contain your breathing. Trying not to just beg.

Beacuse Jon didn't want you to beg, he wanted you to trust him to know when to take care of you.

You dared not look, but you felt his eyes watching you, his touch trying to bring you down as you felt his breathe warm against your wetness as he rasped, “Do you want to cum?” Your brows furrowed, not quite grasping the question as your heart raced in your chest. A kiss pressed once more to your thigh just above a more sensitive mark already bruising, “I asked you a question, do you want me to make you cum?”

Your mind was foggy in the feeling and the ones too torn away, you couldn't tell if it was trick. If there was a proper answer, or if he was testing you. “Whatever you want,” You felt Jon tilting his head slightly before he pressed his lips to your thigh once more. Pulling it up off his hold before he hauled himself over top of you. Bracing a hand beside your head, he nudged your nose with his to look up at him.

Eyes dark and you swallowed harshly despite how little you had a chance to see your own wetness still on his lips before he kissed you. Tongue only barley brushing against yours as he kept you deep in his touch. Barley pulling back as his kissed down your jaw to just below your ear. “Well I want what you want, so you need to tell me what that is.” His lips barley stopped moving along your skin, his other hand sliding down to grasp at your breast, still sensitive it had you gasp even louder ending on a cry.

You tried turning your head away from him, a flush finding its way up your chest passed his touch, not wanting him to make you say anything about it. You were never good at it on your own, speaking so blatantly free like that. Jon only murmured your name before another kiss that time to the side of your head despite his other hands stinging, addicting touch.

Only a nod, he pushed more up to hover over you, trying to take away your ability to look away from him, “Is that a yes?” Your brows furrowed, an embarrassed feeling flooding your veins but he took none of it in jest, wanting you to meet his eyes. “We can keep going, but I don't want to be inside you until you've cum for me.”

A small voice, you reached up. One hand running through the dark curls loose around him before scratching along his scalp. Eyes fluttering shut as was the exhale he gave a bit shaking. The hand beside you head curled into a fist as Jon tried not to just rut into you. “Please, Jon. I'll be good, I'll cum for you I promise.”

Eyes staring harsh down at you, his expression seemed to be unmoving as it was intense in how focused it was. “You promise?” As if confused almost if you didn't want him thinking you'd disobey. It shouldn't have made his blood boil in such a obsessing way, but it did. You wanting to behave for him.

You weren't trying to be seductive, but it worked out that way regardless just by way of how little Jon knew he could resist anything you wanted like this. “I do. I'll do anything, I just want you inside me, filling me, anything you want for it, I'll do it.”

He almost flipped you over onto your hands and knees on the spot.

Instead, Jon stared down at you hard, the muscles in his limbs screamed at him to take you like an animal, over and over at how easily you'd let him do anything. You couldn't realize however, just how filthy that anything was which Jon could come up with. He spent far too much time thinking about ways to take you, he'd do them all if you'd let him.

Not another word trusted in himself to leave his mouth, Jon surged down. Capturing your lips in a bruising kiss, biting down against your bottom lip he swore he almost drew blood before making the same greedy path right back down to your soaked core.

There was no grace or teasing this time. The moment Jon got between your legs, he hoisted your thighs up over his shoulders and dove in. Licking up everything you gave him while he was away before sucking at your clit enough you cried out, louder then you realized. A wolf devouring the prey laid about at his utter mercy, and Jon had little patience for that very concept. Not here, not when he would sooner kill someone then let anything take him away from having you here in his bed.

Reaching something inside of you, he kept you grounded by your hips,refusing you even let you move from exactly where he needed you to be. Jon left not a shred of tease as he soaked you with his mouth as much as you soaked him in return. Unable to stop the thought in his head, at just how unbelievably smooth sliding his cock inside of you was going to be tonight, he groaned into your cunt while his nails dug into your skin.

Your insides twisted and turned and washed over you like wave along the shores in an instant as Jon pulled you right into an orgasm. Attached to his mouth, you cried his name out once more like a mantra and yet Jon did not let you go. If you even hinted at moving away from the shock of how much more pleasure his mouth was hurdling you towards, he tugged you right back closer.

“Jon, please, I can't-”

Barley detaching himself from you, and even more humiliating in your mind, was how he couldn't even bring himself to look anywhere but your soaked core as he rasped out, “You can, and you will.” Not wasting his time and tasting you all over again, you felt that sharp pain growing as it sat atop the pleasure and only he could make you want more.

You felt a sting in your eyes as he pulled another and another from you, maybe three, it could have been four. Your mind was hardly in the present other then just him. Only as what might have been a fifth clawed it's way to flooding his mouth with your taste, did tears also fall from the corners of your eye, was your lungs in agony.

Soaking you more, sloppy kisses pressed to your clit and up the path between your breasts before he hovered over you. A hand pulling your lips up to his instantly, his tongue invading your mouth as it had your cunt and making you taste yourself exactly as he loved. His free hand yanking your thigh to rest up on his hip as he refused to let your lips go.

Barley feeling anything beyond how shocked you felt between your legs from the amount you came, you could not sense anything until you felt the thick tip of his cock press against your cunt. A hand grasped at his shoulder while the other held tight in his curls, Jon growled as he pushed inside you.

Just as he thought, you were soaked. So soaked he slid inside you as deep as you could accept him without any resistance. Tight and warm around his cock but you were so wet it hardly mattered how much his size could overwhelm you. Keeping you close, Jon only let his lips leave yours enough to look down at you as he slowly slid out of you.

Not quite leaving your warmth before he just as smooth and slow filled you right back, the gasp on your lips captured by a quick kiss before he kept his eyes on your face. Lips parted in an awe as your eyes were closed trying to keep calm, trying to not look so needy but that's what he wanted.

You didn't know how long he kept you like that, ever so slowly sliding his cock in and out of you and each time he pushed forward you felt yourself soaking him even more. The sound of it almost made you turn away from him, humiliated, but his grip on your hair turned you back to meet his eyes. His jaw was clenched tightly as he watched you, but each thrust almost made you close your eyes at how much it tore at your insides.

Burning hot you grasped tightly at him while your other let matched how he was holding up your thigh on the other side of his hip. Letting him almost push deeper at the angle, a grumbling of swears falling from his mouth as he dropped his head more into your chest. Slowly trying to thrust harder but not wanting to sacrifice the pace. But you knew he felt the second you clenched around him with a whine, did he kiss you once more. Speaking between each breathe he didn't let you take, “Come on, darling, come on,”

Tears falling you came hard around him as it paralyzed your nerves elsewhere, nothing more then what Jon could slide his cock inside of, you held onto him only willing to take. Give him what he wanted to take and you'd do that the rest of your life if he'd keep you right here. A biting kiss pushed into a deeper one as Jon groaned your name, shaking above as he hitched your leg higher to barley thrust shallow as deep as he could.

The warmth filling inside of you had you gasp, so much more warm then anyone else and you knew his seed spilled thick. Your other hand grasping his cheek as he thrusted to fuck more and more of him inside of you, not willing to let any of it go to waste anywhere but there. Shifting up onto his knees, he kept the same hold of your hip but now he leaned more over you.

His hand leaving your hair, making sure your eyes stayed on his dark, penetrating ones as he reached up to grasp the headboard behind you. Lips parting you kept your legs up by his waist as he nodded, knowing he was trying to tell you without the ability to speak, he needed leverage.

Jon, was not a man who did not fulfill such a promise. Struggling himself to keep his own eyes open, he pounded far harder into you. Trying to keep slower, trying to make sure he didn't overwhelm you in every way but you felt so good around him. “Fuck..” Like each thrust of his cock inside of you was rougher then the last, the resounding smacking of his skin against yours could deafen a man if it didn't sound so beautiful mixed with your cries of his name. Your hands grasping what you could of his waist, but Jon held the power. Jon was the one choosing the pace, how rough he was and you melted to his needs as if that was enough for your pleasure.

Considering how fast he got another orgasm out of you so soon, you wanted him rough as much as his clawing animal deep inside of him tried to beg for despite how locked away be kept it. When he opened his mouth, he rambled without thought, an entrancing husk you moaned out for. “Fuck, I want to keep you here. Right here, fill you again and again, make sure we don't leave until I've filled you with a child-” Jons head dropped as he lost some of the roughness and picked the pace up, not letting that loud echoing slap go away in any manner. “I should've kept you down in that cell with me until I put a baby in you, that night in Castle Black. Should've kept you from all of them until I filled you enough that it took.”

Leaning up, your hands pressed against his chest trying to get him to lean down to meet your lips, but Jon could only watch how rough he jostled you with each pound and growled.

Tightly grasping the back of your neck did he lean down to meet your lips, biting and leaving your bottom lip bleeding that time no question. But it didn't deter him, and he refused to let your lips get away as his other hand cupped your cheek. His cock was making you feel dizzy, how thick he kept filling you with no chance of escape.

Lightheaded as Jon fucked you, before he shoved you down by your sternum onto the furs once more, a few shallow thrusts as he watched you carefully. “Stay just like that,” You winced as he pulled out of you, tears falling once more as you bit your tongue not to beg so pathetically for him to come back.

Only moving off the bed long enough to grab something from his pockets, he climbed back up before shoving your legs wide. Snatching both of your hands and raising them up high near a post on the headboard. The sound of something tearing you couldn't see hit you as you watched Jons eyes go dark and possessive at his work. Using your own underwear he tied your wrists to the bed above your head as he leaned down to your lips. “You can escape those if you need to, darling. But I really want you to stay just like this, you want to be good for me, but you don't let me take care of you. So let me make you cum, and I'll fill you as many times as you want.”

Your head was not clear, but you didn't want it to be, all you saw and felt was Jon and so you nodded with your stuttering breathe trying to regain control. But Jon slipped back inside of you with no resistance once more. Capturing your lips, he fucked you slow once more.

Twisting and burning your crying core as Jons cock was slow, smooth and you felt every inch of his length run right along something sensitive inside you that had his name now turn to prayer on your lips.

Hands flexing trying to reach up to his hair only to be met with the restraint, melting more into his touch at how much you trusted it. He could take every bit of control away from you, and you'd still trust Jon blindly. You wanted him to do everything he dreamed of to you, and you'd never resist him.

It was hard to tell if you had already cum once by the time the next one hit you so suddenly, Jon left you utterly lost in his touch that you felt nothing in the world but him. His cock slow and thick inside of you, sliding in and out all the entire length and you could clench and shake around him each time you thought he'd leave your warmth again. But he kissed you gently, reaching a hand up to hold at your clasped hands, fingers intertwining best he could as he kept your thigh once more up by his hip.

Voice hoarse but dripping with a deep affection you whispered against his lips so simple, “I love you.”

Fucking deep inside you, he kept himself there for a moment. Dropping his face into your neck when he nodded, picking his cocks pace right back up as he fucked you. Rasping low in your ear, “I've always loved you, since I laid eyes on you I've loved you. You- fuck, you're everything to me.”

Moving you prompted him to look up at you, but it was your turn to lean forward to kiss him. Without much warning once more, Jon felt you clench tight around him, his cock pounding harder and faster to make up for it. Whispering into his lips, you kept your legs high on his hips wanting to keep him as deep as he was. “Cum inside me Jon, please.”

Nodding, it took little less then a few more slow thrusts of you shaking around his cock to spill inside of you once more. He'd keep you on his cock for a while, the other not ready to let the other go, not willing to stop feeling the others bare skin sweating against the other, as he fucked you. But he still struggled to stop.

Jon struggled to leave your cunt, his cock angry if he'd think about it. But your eyes were asking to pass out, having used your body so thoroughly he knew you were losing steam, yet the wolf inside of him wasn't satisfied. But your whisper, ruined him. “Take me as long as you need, whatever you need, I want you to have it no matter what, even if I'm asleep. Take what you want from me, Jon.”

His mind wasn't sound enough to ask questions, but his heart was dark enough that he kept his cock sliding smoothly in and out of you. Only when your eyes slipped closed proper did Jon slow his pace, untying you before turning you onto your side, hitching your leg up properly to keep himself deep, his mind was a cloud of you and only you. Jon wasn't sure when he fell asleep, but he did so, with his cock thick and deep inside of you as you both slept in the others arms.

He knew you trusted him with everything, leaving behind that fear that he'd do anything Ramsay did, and you wouldn't scare him with that anxiety ever again. He took what he needed from your cunt beacuse you wanted him to have it, anytime or anyway he wanted. But you knew he'd refuse such a selfish pleasure otherwise.

But it was as you two slept so pleasurably connected together, did your mind fall somewhere else without notice.

You had never been aware of it like this before. Standing in a memory you were always in something of a haze, trapped in the mind of another. The first time, watching Hazzea in the fields you had not understood you were not there, it felt as real as the ship you were on. But this, you knew where you stood and that you had been in bed with Jon.

But now, awake and dressed you stood in the middle of a corridor in Winterfell, the air much warmer then it was now. You looked around at the windows of the main hall only to see not even snow sat on the ground. Steps forward was when your ears picked up too, the sounds of music. Chatter, life, carefree laughter and yelling on top of the music that made it sound much more populated then it did in your waking life.

It was far from winter whenever you stood. Finding your feet, maids and servants passed you by without a notice. No one looked, no guards acknowledged your presence. It was like you walked these halls a ghost, unseen and unheard. But you had not the wherewithal to figure out why you were returning to dreams for such unknowns.

It was not hard to figure out just when you were, and it turned out, the when hurt more then the why most of all. Life was in the main hall and you recognized the sights. Peering in through the door as if a child spying past her bedtime, you first saw the main table high at the back of the room. Cersei Lannister sat there as miserable as you recalled her being in the North, only now you had the vision to see her watching a naive Sansa from across the way.

Next to her, your heart twisted. No longer the brittle white hair, the clawing down of her cheeks and throat slit open with hate in her dreadful eyes. This was not a creature of vengeance, just a woman, a mother who you stood watching as if you forgot she could appear this human. Her hair long and a striking Tully red, wearing a shade of blue that always looked so beautiful on her. This was the Catelyn Stark which had died a mother to you. And the feast around spoke that in over a weeks time, she would be by law.

Some you spotted, some hurt less, some more. Theon stood younger and full of life. A cocksure attitude in his eyes as he smirked at whatever Southern girl had struck his fancy, back in the years when he found such prospects in said venture. Jory and Ser Rodrick looked alive as ever, in both their faces and in body. You had not seen Ser Rodrick's end by the very man across the room from him, but you had seen Jory's.

Jaime Lannister with a dagger shoved into his eye as you shoved one into the necks of one of his own men, a cruel end to a good man who had much love in his heart for the family he served. But the man who he fought to defend? You felt that dagger plunging into your heart.

Ned Stark stood tall as ever, and with the same sternness he always held no matter what. It was that which moved your feet, stepping into the hall. Carefully you walked to avoid touching or bumping into a soul, as if you even could, but you saw something troubling on his face that had lived there the entire last months you spent with him.

The closest thing you had to a true father, and he loved you like one. If you could have dragged him to safety then and there, you would have. Don't die for these people, you thought. The south will not remember you, they will all call you a traitor years after you're gone. But this was not in your control, it was a dream, not a chance to restore the wrongs done to this family.

A figure with darker hair, longer that sat flat against him slunk up to the side of him and you knew you had not seen him since that visit. “You at a feast, it's like a bear in a trap.” Benjen Stark was too much like many Stark fates, lost and unknown. Much like Bran, he was out in the far North and no one would find him.

He and Ned discussed something you hadn't quite caught, catching the laters words only at the tail end, “Said the Others slaughtered his friends.” It was warm in the hall, but you felt that chill once more. As early as that night was this darkness looming before you all, and still, none knew it and would not for years to come.

Benjen adding to his brothers words, “The two he was with are still missing.”

Both Starks were quiet for a moment, a look shared between them that was as knowing as it wished to be unknown. The Northerners always believed such things more then you all in the South, and the Starks understood better then any and all of those who did. But the answer of the question unspoken was not confident, nor did you think he meant it to be. “A wildling ambush.”

Just as the younger Stark spoke, your eyes found a figure passing in the crowd. Tall and broad with dark hair and a long face. You had no reason to notice them, but you did. Making their way from his place in the crowd slowly towards the door you now stood near. “Maybe. Direwolves south of the wall, talk of the Others, and my brother might be the next Hand of the King. Winter is coming.”

Just as the figure without a care in the world walked passed both men, you found a force compelling you to follow. But it wasn't the figure your eyes were focused on, and it wasn't the stranger which clawed at your heart until it beat harsh from your chest.

He looked so much lighter, that weight on his shoulders hadn't burdened him just yet and the bold blue in his eyes shined the way you remembered so vividly. Greeting his uncle, Robb Stark was not at that time the man you loved, but looking at him in such a memory you felt the scar under your dress burn in agony to go back to it.

Not a clue what he would become, what he would lose to get there, and..you dared not. You couldn't, not here, not when he was right in front of you. Speaking with a smile to his uncle, Robb was animated and laughed, smiled and joked and it was only alone with you did he do that by the end. He was still happy here, he had more family and hope then you and an unborn son named for the father standing next to him.

Eyes stinging, you needed to leave. You still felt a force calling to you, the stranger needing to be followed for why you were here but why leave? Robb was rarely happy in the end and you wanted to keep him here, keep him safe. The last you saw of Robb made you ill, even now you felt a sharpness in your mind to strike it from your eyes.

A weight in your chest formed as your hands unconsciously moved to your stomach. Weeks before a marriage he was forced into, he had no idea what lay ahead for you both. He should have stayed here, in this memory where he was happy. And alive. The tears watered and just as they fell you had to move away.

Lingering made the burning under your clothes worse and feeling nothing but the scar under the fabric made it worse. This memory was not about him, no matter how desperate you begged yourself to stay for just that. But you turned away before the tears could grow worse, as if Robb would see them. Follow the figure, not the loss that haunted.

The figure knew where he was going. Quick to catch up knowing Winterfell well, but they knew it well enough you had to run across the courtyard to catch him. The crypts, that was where he moved towards.

Looking around, none but your unseen shadow watched him, and you felt as if the feast was the perfect time. Escape and sneak just when all eyes were on the Kings company. He knew these people, and he was smart.

Stepping down the main stairs, you did not have to walk much to find where the stranger had gone. It was not far or deep or a mystery what he was looking for. It was one of the tombs long passed which he went towards. He knew what he was looking for, and he knew where to find it.

Approaching him slowly, you could not startle him but it felt eeiry in the crypts with such a stranger, like he might turn around and become the danger. But whatever he was searching for, was not there.

A hidden spot within the statue was pulled out and exposed nothing inside of it. The stranger, reacted little but wider eyes and an even wider frown. Standing abruptly, he looked from statue to statue but still nothing was as right to him as here, but it wasn't right. Whatever was hidden, whatever he snuck away from the feast to take, had been taken before him.

Looking right at you, he did not see you. Pulling the hood of his cloak up, he retreated the crypts as swiftly as he made his way to the steps. Your eyes could not see from here, where any you knew stood, they were in another stretch of hall, but you looked anyways. The only one who was in here now, was her, if this was any other sort of dream, you'd take the time, but you had to leave.

The air was so cold when you stepped from the crypts. The snow around your feet was deep and untouched, save for the path you stood at the beginning of. A figure in black knelt in a snowbank only feet from you. No one but a horse was around, and the dark hid the depths of the lands from what the moonlight could not touch.

The same dark hair, still long on him but now sat a fur on his shoulder painted in black. Coming behind him, all alone in the far North, Benjen Stark knelt down in the snow. A black bundle being placed in a hole with a heavy sigh. The symbol on the rock he covered it with, you did not know, but the rock looked old. The bundle, was something wrapped in a Nights Watch cloak.

Piling snow on top of it, Benjen stood on his own. No companions this far, and nothing to indicate why he had come all that way to bury something and hide it as such. Standing beside him, the wind blew against you both as he looked to the far North even further. Wherever Benjen was, you wondered, was the fate you were about to watch look the same was whatever Bran had found in this place?

The wind was cold as you both stood there, but as it blew, it grew stronger. And with the stronger winds, did it grow cold. It grew too cold, plummeting down that could freeze in seconds and the fear built too strong. You knew as Benjen did and fear was the only response.

Mists of snow were clouding the sight already smothered by darkness. Sword and blades all on his person, but it wasn't that which the man reached for, it was a glass like dagger that you recognized even in the windy darkness. Benjen knew what happening and he was prepared. Turning to his horse you moved to follow. Benjen being the compelling force drawing your attention, but it was not with him that you found your sights on.

Nor was it the approaching shadows that came with the winds in the far North. No, something else stood in the distance. Someone stood in the distance, and it wasn't the Others, nor Benjen Stark they watched. It was you. Far enough you could see little beyond the darkness, but you felt a shiver creeping up your spine not from the winds approaching.

Your dreams begged you to follow Benjen, but the man watching you turned and ran into the darkness opposite that. No one knew what happened to him, and the weight in your chest felt guilt and shame choking you for not finding out. But you needed to know this more. So away from the fate of a Stark none knew, you ran into the snowy darkness as the cold winds did not come with you.

Barley visible as they ran, a flowing cloak your only indication as the wind did not die around you, but yet grew warm. Warmer and warmer until the figure jumped from a cliff and as you followed it was not the north you found, but a hell surrounded in flames. The man was nowhere in your sights, but there wasn't anything in your sights but fire and lava, surrounding you as you felt your blood burn within but it did not consume you as it should.

At the mouth of a volcano, men all stood in a language you did not recognize did they chant. The fire burned brighter and the heat grew more unbearable as they shouted and shouted until a boom shook from deep within the earth below you. They did not run, standing brave and unchanging did the rumbles grow to crackings beneath your feet and spouts of lava shot up all around. Bubbling like a cauldron did the red heat grow.

It was as it came for you, this burning end did an arm grab you. Pulling you back, you knew there was nowhere to go so deep in the volcano. You could not run, but you were pulled back regardless. A gloved dressed in a fine silver steel tugged you back and with your stumble did you find fresh air and the brightness of day light in the surroundings. Rubble sat around you, smouldering and lifeless there was nothing of the sight you saw but one.

The man pulled his hood down but you still did not know him. He was not the stranger in the crypts of Winterfell, this was a man who looked with unsettling and bright shining blue eyes right at you, speaking your name.

Backing away many steps, you found your footing loose. Gravel falling from under your feet, turning to steady yourself found much of the ground in utter ruin. Skies tinged in red and buildings left in tatters of what appeared to be a broken stretch of nowhere. Not even the remains of corpses scattered about more then bones, but the smouldering made the air heavy and the vision of any darker then normal.

The sea surrounding you from the scattered, broken lands now crust and dirt looked like they were as fatal as the waters of Dragonstone once you had set it ablaze. Not green in this case, but an orange tint that looked like acid. Miles and miles the only thing was ruin that none could traverse, but yet you stood here in the blighted land.

Finding stable footing, you turned to the man watching with a glint, his eyes almost smiled something sickening at you even without the mouth forming up to match. Lips that were shaded in the vaguest of blue, a stain that was marked into them without care. Longer dark hair and a beard that was styled rather intentionally. Standing quite tall with armour scaled in black. Patterns you could not make out, glyphs and arcane symbols etched into it with the metal work just as ornate looking as the metal on his gloves.

His voice a vile sound that reminded you only of the whispers from Ramsay Bolton. Sharp in a painful way that set your hair on edge at it's very tone. He spoke with a purpose and candor only the danger was outright on this one instead of hidden behind a smarmy smile.

“It has been a long time since I've been in such a place. A truly long time, you have graced me with a rare opportunity.” A step was made towards you, but you made one backward. Your insides screaming to keep him away as you demanded to know who he was. A chuckle was what followed. Another step made closer and you circled around each one, keeping many feet between you. “I am the storm, little girl. The first storm, and the last.”

Shaking your head in the slightest, your voice was little more then a muttering. “That isn't an answer.”

You hated his laugh as much as you hated Ramsay's. Arms spread wide he looked to the ruins beyond and back to you with his blue eyes once more shining in a manner you distrusted. “Do you like games, we can play if you wish. I will tell you who I am, if you share how such a small girl like yourself survives a butchering at the hands of House Frey.”

Your scar burned, but you did not dare blink. You didn't speak either, he wished to talk then let him.

Bringing his arms up to rest across the ornate armour, he propped his chin up by his fist as he narrowed his eyes at you. “Or you could tell me exactly what you did to raise your precious bastard to life. I would accept either answer as the correct one, should you be a smart girl and not lie that is.”

The earth rumbled, winds blowing in the distance as if trying to reach you but couldn't flow passed miles beyond the man. One more you circled far away from him, finding any way to turn and run as if this was merely a chase to escape like waking life. “You shouldn't believe rumours. I was never dead, and neither was he.”

A lie, and he knew it. The grin on his lips would have been described as handsome, had it not once more reminded you of another just like him. Only this man, scared you more then Ramsay. A feat you did not think a mortal man could be capable of.

“We both know that isn't true. I have been from the furthest stretches of land and seen it all and more. From one end to the other, there is nothing I have not witnessed except for you and your King. The old ways can do much, but returning to life in such form like you? Not something I have seen. Tell me how, and I will tell you who I am.” He moved with a swift confidence, but you were quicker. Jumping from a crumbling rock to another before he could think to reach you once more.

Your voice was as even tempered as your stone still face, unmoving and unblinking trying to seek an escape from a dream with no ability to know how. “You must keep searching then, my lord. You will find no answers in me.”

The grin grew darker, “Lord.” A huff of a laugh left him with a grin knowing something you couldn't care less to be in on. “On the contrary, I will find much in you. I have not been here in so long, I've tried and searched and had no answers to take back what that old fuck took away from me. But here you are, all on your own in the world and I finally have a way back.” He jumped to a shaking rock just as you jumped to another in the ruined terrains. He liked the slow chase, a predator who played with his food.

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

Voice shouting louder, it echoed as buildings crumbled from the impact. “Our dear friend has touched you, I know you know what I am speaking of, you can't not. Do not play stupid with me, little girl. It doesn't suit those like us.” You shook your head once, you didn't have any answers but even if you did, you wouldn't give them to whatever this man was. “We don't need to dance around each other. You can tell me the truths you have seen, I know what it feels to be so knowing when others around couldn't possibly understand. It's freeing, like being able to fly when all others call you a fool for it.”

The earth rumbled under your own stance but he seemed not to notice. Whatever this was, it was his control now and you could only jump to find ground that belonged to you. Stepping backwards more, you could turn somewhat and see flat earth that might not break open to the earth. You only needed a few more feet to jump away to find land and run. “I don't have time for this, I don't have time for any of this. Let me walk away-”

Laugh was condescending if any man could be the most. “Walk? Where do you think you are? In the ruins, hoping to survive what only I have done? No little girl, we both know not even you could survive this. You're likely asleep aren't you? Tucked away in your bastards arms like a good whore would, dreaming of another man beacuse a Snow is nothing compared to a Crow.”

You didn't play word games, but you didn't spill secrets like water. So you stayed silent, letting it fester in anger in this stranger. You felt eyes watching you from deep within these ruins, but you could not see past the smouldering to spot them, even though the feeling crept closer as the man did.

Narrowing his eyes at you, he smirked once more. “We're here for a reason, I have searched for someone like you for years. Imagine my joy upon finding a thing like you to be it rather then the old one who stole it all from me. We are here to work together, you need only come to me. I'll even tell you my name, little girl.”

Land was close, but you couldn't get there fast enough. “I don't need anything from you.”

You felt as if you were beginning to hate every single pair of blue eyes that didn't belong to Robb, they all looked at you like something to torment, lesser then. Only his were the ones who deserved to look at you anymore, and you'd do anything to make this mans stop.

“The old man cannot help you as I can. He's touched you, but rest assured mine is far better. Let me in, and I can teach you whatever you want. How to control it, how to fly. Wouldn't you like that? Leaping from a tall tower and feeling the wind like a bird does? No man ever truly knows he can do it, unless he dares to leap. But I can ensure you will soar right along side me. Just come to me.”

Backing away and away, you refused to let him near. You knew such offers and smiles, that charm which was nothing but a lie waiting to strike. The other blue, the pale ones that still caked your skin in a dirt you couldn't clean tried to sound just as this one did. They were all the same and they were too blind to know you could see through it.

You suspected he hated that you barley reacted to him. Words can only hurt so much, you thought and you had suffered more then words for a year and came out on the other side. It will take more then this to manipulate you by now. “You speak as if you think yourself of a god. I can assure you, my lord, no god would dare waste his time on someone like me. You're just a man.”

Oh that did anger him. His voice growling as if tearing the earth around you as it cracked, booms following each raise of his voice. “I am more then a man. I am the godliest man to ever raise sail, girl. You serve a mere seven gods, but I served ten thousand. From Ib to Asshai, when men see my sails, they pray.”

Roars surrounded you as he came close, and quickly you found yourself running out of time. You had no where to go in his control and the moment you felt him grab you, the only blade sat at your side came up in an instant to slash at him. Cutting through the fabric of his hand below the metal he yelled out, only the leap you turned to make found yourself slamming to the ground with once more fire screaming around you.

This time you could see the men in the volcano standing without faces, blank spaces where they should be and no mouths to speak. Only voices from above that sung in your ear one after another as the flames flew around and shot out to the lands with screams above.

“Brave men kill them, terrible evil beasts.”

“You crows with your swords and your cloaks and your bloody fires. That won't help you none when the white cold comes.”

“I pray for a glimpse of Azor Ahai, and R'hllor shows me only Snow.”

Eyes closing roughly, as you tried to force yourself up to your feet. Telling yourself it was a dream, the man had said himself, it was a dream and you could run in a dream and escape. Just as the fire burned around you did you turn to see him once more standing across from you. “Make this easy girl, if you run, I will take from you the likes you've never been had.”

Inhaling deeply, you stepped back and back further. Nowhere to go he would have you believe, but as your foot felt the edge to the lava below, you found a confidence. It wasn't his dream, he had said as much. It was yours. And your dreams followed that of your life. You chose ice not fire. The moment your feet stepped over the empty air it was not Jons bed you woke in, but landing backwards in the daylight of snow.

Where you had seen Benjen Stark, but no sign of him was left. Your dreams had always been vivid in such nightmares but you never had any consciousness within them like this, and that terrified you of when you'd ever come out of it.

Scrambling up to your knees, your head whipped around searching for the spot which Benjen had buried whatever it was he left here. As if the snow was untouched around you, it didn't move when you'd brush it away despite feeling the cold on your hands. You had been shown this for a reason, you couldn't leave without the answer you were forced away from by the blue eyed stranger.

But he was not yet done with you. The feeling of eyes came upon your back, and slowly you turned around still braced mostly on the ground did he approach looking large and terrifying. Voice a shout that echoed over the snowy mountains, “You had a chance to make this easy, girl. But the Crow's Eye will not be bested by a little whore.” The blade had flown from your hand as you fell into the North, and was too far away.

This was a dream, and he was not Ramsay. So why did you feel yourself fill with the same paralyzing terror of the nights he came to you? Why did it feel as real as it ever did?

But the moment he got close, the moment he reached to drag you to him, did a figure leap from nowhere you had seen. Something large and white flew past your vision with a growling snarl, and blood splattered into the ground with a painful cry from the stranger.

Ghost had appeared, and tore into him with little fight back to loosen the grip. Hands weaponless could only try and grab at the direwolf who then growled and snapped towards his neck but was thrown back slightly in the entangle.

You looked at the blade, and the stranger looked at you. You went for it, and so he went for you. Ghost once more tore at him but he was resilient and not even the direwolf could penetrate the ornate armour when teeth found steel. You didn't need to strike his armour though. This was a dream, but the stranger was still a man.

He tried going to you, and as Ghost stood barrier between you both did you grab the blade. Turning up and grabbing onto the direwolf enough to steady yourself. Hands stung painfully as blood splattered across you and the white fur but you sunk the blade deep into his left eye. A violent scream came as he bled and bled, but just as you heard a deep voice in the sky rasping your name did you wake up.

Eyes flying open, you gasped in an overwhelming dizziness sitting up. Not for a moment though did you question the touch behind you. Jons warmth pulled you back into him desperately as he seemed just as out of breathe as you.

Gentle shushes in your ear did Jon calm you with, but you grabbed his arms around you and he found your hand tightly. Neither of you spoke, hell, you both were still as you fell asleep, as bare and connected as before but now your hearts pounded with something terrifying.

As it was not only a dream you had, and it was not Ghost who came to you in it.

#jon snow x reader #robb stark x reader #jon snow #robb stark #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #jon snow x you #robb stark x you #jon snow imagine #robb stark imagine #game of thrones imagines

52 notes · View notes

peoplesgraves · 2 years

Text

Betty

Yandere scientist x Franken-Reader

You wake to a raging headache. Your head is so filled with clutter and voices that are almost yours that it feels like your brain is going to explode. The pain is eased by a cool washcloth being dabbed on your for head while a gentle voice mumbles words of comfort. You pass out and awake a few minutes later. The longer the mysterious man is next to you the more the throbbing dulls until finally it’s dulled enough for you to sit up.

A few minutes later you try to stand but your legs collapse under you. Your horrified to look down and see blood dripping from crudely stapled and stitched wounds. Each line of stitches reveals a slightly different part. Like you’re some kind of horrible jigsaw puzzle. Calloused hands pull you up and back onto the table. The man mumbles to himself as he gathers supplies and you recognize his voice as the same from earlier.

He pulls a stool to sit in front of you and looks at your torn staples. “You’ve ripped them. If you needed something you know you should’ve asked me instead of hurting yourself like this.” He begins to clean it up paying no mind to your winces of pain. An agonizing ordeal later your leg is fixed and the man who you’ve come to dislike greatly is seriously lecturing you.

“You need to rest while your body heals. Until then you’ll stay in the lab where I can watch over you.” When you don’t respond he turn from his work table to look at you. “Ok Betty?”

You look at him confused and terrified. “I’m not Betty.”

“Of course you are. I used Betty’s brain. Her heart was too damaged but it’s the brain that’s really important.”

You shake your head as much as you can laying down. “I’m. Not. Betty!”

He sighs and sits once again by your side. He Henry grabs your hand in both of his and plays with your fingers as he speaks. “Maybe you’re not Betty yet. But won’t it be an interesting experiment to see if I can bring Betty out?”

The next few weeks are torture. Because of your condition the mad man literally has to do everything for you. He was always clinical about it never overstepping anymore then he had too but still, it was torture. The only things to do where to sleep or to watch as he did his experiments. Sometimes you could convince him to tell you stories wether about Betty, his experiments or worst of all, how he’d made you.

There’s also a voice in your head. While most voices have died off by now one is only getting louder. She warns you about the scientist and begs you to run away. As the voice starts to gain more and more purchase in your mind, it starts to show you things. Memories of Betty and the scientist. One day when Betty has drowned you out, she shows you something horrible.

That night when the scientist tries changing your bandages you pull away from him at any cost. Gritting your teeth through the pain to protect yourself from him. Eventually he gets fed up and can’t help but to ask what’s wrong.

“You killed Betty.” Your voice wavers in fear but still it drips with venom.

The scientist looks mostly neutral. Although he does have a small fond smile. “So Betty is in there and shes trying to save you. It’s cute. Really.” He leans forward and rests his forearms on his legs to be eye level with you.

“But there’s nothing to save you from. I took your heart, all of your discarded parts and I gave them a second chance.”

Betty slips through the cracks and your mouth is moving of another volition. “You’ll just tear her apart and start over once she becomes too much for you.” The voice is yours but not and it freaks you out.

You look for comfort, to cling to something and the scientist steps in. He holds you and let’s you cry into his coat.

“Tell me Betty.” He spits her name like it’s poison, the complete opposite of the way he’d said her name when you first awoke. “Why would I kill my greatest creation?”

The scientist rubs circles on your back. It’s like the more you fall into him the further away Betty gets until you’re brain is quiet for the very first time.

“You’re right. You’re not Betty” a serpents smile forms behind your back and his grip on you tightens “you’re going to be so much better.”

#yandere fantasy #yandere scientist #yandere mad scientist #Frankenstein reader #monster reader #yandere mythical creature #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you

424 notes · View notes

decieve-ineigle-obfuscate · 2 years

Text

Finally and Forever

Category: Fluff

Pairing: Spencer x Reader

Warnings: Language. So, so much pining.

Word Count: 2.1 K

I had met her upon her first defence of me. I'd been young and stuttering.

A raging man stood over a younger, significantly more insecure version of me.

She'd come out of the multitude of people buzzing about the station, yanking his arm so that he was forced to face her.

"You know, most kids are dropped at some point. It's safe to assume your parents threw you head-first at a wall. Why don't you save us all the torture of listening to your nail-on-a-chalkboard-esque voice and go the way of the dodo?"

He fumed a few moments, and I feared him striking the girl who was nearly a foot shorter than me, never mind him.

She glared, holding her ground stubbornly.

As he stalked off, cursing her under his breath, she relaxed.

"Are you okay?" She asked softly, coming closer to me.

I opened and closed my jaw a few times before producing a rather disappointing "Yeah.".

She offered a small smile before disappearing once more.

My brain remained silent and still, watching after her.

"You good, pretty boy? You look a little heart-eyed there." Derek teased, coming up and teasing me.

I quickly fled to the single bathroom, attempting to cool my face with tap water.

Despite being on the case for another 3 weeks, I didn't see her again.

Not for another 4 years.

When I did see her again, I was a very different person. I had and lost Maeve and had gone to and left prison. I hardly felt the same in my skin.

She had not changed. She was, once again, squaring up to someone much taller than her, clearly defending a woman behind her.

"If you even look at her wrong again, you won't see the outside of a cell again. Am I clear, hothead?"

I watched, the world seeming too slow as he reached for and drew a weapon.

She grabbed his wrist and forced it upwards, leaving them both vulnerable.

I drew my gun and aimed. "FBI! Drop the weapon, sir!" I shouted.

He glanced over, then back to her. His face hardened, and he kneed her in the stomach before bringing his gun down to aim at her.

I squeezed the trigger and watched his head jerk back as the shot hit its target.

The woman behind her screamed and covered her face.

I rushed over and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay?" I asked frantically.

"Fine. Just need air." She wheezed hoarsely.

"Yeah, you're okay," I said, unsure whether I was soothing myself or her.

She shifted back onto her heels and breathed deeply.

"That's a lot of paperwork." She groaned.

"Yeah." I chuckled. "I'll live."

She nodded, allowing her head to drop forward.

"You're the uh — boy genius the dodo was yelling at, right?"

I smiled, face warming, mind slowing, and chest tightening at her remembrance of me.

Again, all I conjured was a "Yeah."

She smiled. "Always this articulate?"

"No, usually people have to tell me to shut up," I replied.

"Mmm. M'I special then?"

Oh, if only you knew. If only you knew how I am inexplicably unable to stop thinking of you.

I had no solid reply.

She only smiled. "Well, help me up, boy genius?"

"Spencer," I said, taking her hand and helping her up.

She smiled more widely and introduced herself.

My chest tightened once more at the sound of her name, finally and forever in my mind.

I tried it once, enjoying the sound of it.

"Yeah. I'm plainclothes." She said, rubbing her neck.

"That's really cool."

"You're FBI. That's a hell of a lot cooler." She said, a crooked smile adorning her face.

We stayed, waiting until local law enforcement arrived, giving our stories of what had happened.

I gave my number and other contact info before being released.

"Are you doing okay, now?" I asked as we leaned against a nearby building.

"Bumps and bruises. I'll live."

I smiled softly.

"Can we grab lunch? I'll pay. I was going to eat. It's fine if you're not hungry. I just wanted to offer. And —"

"Lunch sounds good. I'm pretty hungry too. Any place you wanna go?" She said, shrugging.

"There's a great Thai place. It's two blocks east."

She nodded and followed after, quickly taking place beside me.

My mind raced, interrupted only by the occasional bump of our shoulders as we walked.

Lunch was filled with exchanged stories and easy-flowing conversation.

For the first time in so long, I felt safe — at peace.

Our bubble was shattered by Derek's obnoxious ringtone that I still had not been able to change.

She only smiled. "You should get that, boy genius."

"Oh. Yeah."

I pulled my phone from my pocket and answered.

My irritation increased as Derek invited me to a "guys' night" with the rest of the team.

"This could've been a text, you know," I said, attempting to keep my impatience from my voice.

"I didn't know you knew how to text, pretty boy. My bad. Next time."

I sighed. "I have an IQ of 187. Of course, I know how to text, Derek."

I glanced across at her amused smile as she gently brushed the toe of her sneaker against my sock-covered ankle.

"Well, I'll think about it, anyway. I gotta go." I said, refocusing.

"You busy?"

"At the moment? Yes. I'm having lunch." I said.

"Alright. See you later."

I hung up without replying and muted my phone before shoving it back into my pocket.

"Co-worker," I explained simply.

She nodded and went back to her food, a smile still not gone from her face.

I always want to be the reason you smile.

I shook my head, attempting to dislodge the thoughts of permanence involving a woman I'd met only twice. It was more difficult than I'd like to admit.

"You smile a lot when you look at me." She said, dabbing at her face with a brown napkin.

"You're smiling. It's contagious."

Her smile widened, and a blush adorned her cheeks.

It was more moments than I could keep track of before my brain — which had apparently been reduced to that of a single-celled amoeba — came up with something else to say.

"Lunch good?"

Two words. Great going. And you told Derek you have an IQ of 187. Nice to know a pretty girl can flush that down the toilet.

"Lunch is fantastic, actually. Just what I needed today, thank you." She said, taking another bite of whatever noodles she'd ordered.

"Yeah. That's one of the many reasons I love this place. And it's open all night."

"That's great! I'm gonna come here when I'm on patrol more often. Fast food all the time fucking sucks." She joked, gently brushing her shoe against mine again.

"Don't I know it," I replied, finally looking away from her and eating some more of my own food.

I immediately looked back up, though.

"You're not on the clock, right? Like I'm not keeping you from anything?"

She shook her head and swallowed another bite. "Nope. It's not my shift today, and honestly, my supervisor can suck 100 dicks if he wants to call me in on my day off. Especially after he just got back from a 2-week long cruise."

I smiled and finished eating with her.

Our time together was up far too quickly, as I only had the luxury of a lunch hour.

We exchanged numbers and promised to speak soon before parting ways.

It would be another 6 months before I saw her.

‡

She texted me at 2:30 in the morning.

• Can I come to see you?

6 months of phone tag between our busy jobs (and luck not allowing us to meet by chance again).

I was ready to give her anything she needed.

• Of course!

I sent my address along and waited impatiently.

• Do you have a first aid kit? Like a good one?

My stomach dropped.

• Yeah.

I waited. And waited. And waited.

My intercom buzzed and I ran for it.

"Hello?" I asked eagerly.

"Myeh, what's up, doc?" She teased.

"Me, on the second floor, apartment 23."

She chuckled, and I buzzed her in.

I waited. And waited.

Her knock came sooner than expected, but longer than I had wanted to wait.

I opened the door and looked her over.

"I cut my shin open hopping a fence. Your building maintenance person's gonna hate me."

I ushered her in and sat her on the toilet before rushing to grab my kit.

She had, in that time, removed her shoes and pulled her pant leg up.

"That looks painful."

She nodded. "You use your uh, profiling skills for that one?" She asked, the corner of her mouth crooked up.

"Yeah. We at the BAU can tell when a boo-boo hurts." I teased right back.

"Good to know." She chuckled.

I pursed my lips as I knelt down.

"You're not squeamish, right boy genius?"

"Think I like doc better, and no. I just don't like the fact that you're hurt."

She nodded. "Are you an actual doctor or a diploma doctor?"

I smiled. "Mathematics, chemistry, and engineering."

"Diploma doctor. Got it."

Something clicked in my brain before I ran the first alcohol pad over the gash.

"So, who was chasing you?" I asked, making contact.

"Fuck! I don't know. He's in worse shape than I am, though. I just didn't wanna go home. He's been following me for the last few days."

I glanced up. "Do you need help?"

"That is why I'm here, doc." She teased.

I nodded. "That's fair. If you need anything more —"

She nodded. "I will let you know, I promise."

I finished cleaning her wound and wrapped her leg in gauze.

"I want you to stay the night, so I can change that in the morning. Please?"

"Will there be coffee?" She asked, using the counter to stand.

"Whole pot," I replied.

"Twist my arm, why don't ya? Where's the couch?"

I brought her out into the living room, not bothering to argue.

Despite not having known her long, I knew well enough to know. She wouldn't change her mind.

I grabbed sheets and blankets from the top of my closet and returned to find her conked out. I draped the blankets over her and turned the lamp out.

"My room's across from the bathroom if you need anything," I said lowly.

"Spencer."

I stopped in my tracks and turned back to her. "Yeah?"

She worried her lower lip.

"I can sit out here with you for a bit. It's Friday night. I don't have work tomorrow."

She nodded gently. "Just for a bit?"

I sat on the couch beside her and turned on the TV.

"We can watch whatever you want," I said lowly.

"One of your coworkers, the blonde one. She was teasing you about Russian films?"

"I have the 1967 Anna Karenina in Russian. I could translate."

She nodded and leaned back.

I put the movie on and began translating.

‡

Her head's on my shoulder. Her head's on my shoulder.

A second, more moving thought came to mind.

She trusts me enough to sleep around me.

I turned the TV off and leaned my head back.

You trust her enough to sleep too.

I closed my eyes and drifted off.

‡

She was gone when I woke up.

A note was next to a freshly brewed pot of coffee.

Sorry I didn't stay. I got a call. The guy was picked up by a patrol. See you later, doc.

My heart sank.

You miss her.

I shook my hands, pacing around my kitchen.

Knocking sounded, and I rushed to the door.

I opened the door, and — there she was.

"I was hoping to be back sooner. I had a shit ton of paperwork." She said softly.

I nodded gently, watching her pupils dilate.

"I was hoping I could make you breakfast."

"Would you like to stay for dinner?" She teased.

Mulan, 1998. Henry made me watch it. Historically inaccurate, but—

"Would you like to stay forever?" I asked, unthinking.

"I don't know about forever, yet. But, maybe, for now?" She asked, wrapping her arms around my waist.

"I would like that a lot."

"And definitely for breakfast." She added.

I nodded.

A small kiss was pressed to my cheek, and she pulled me further into the apartment.

I have her in my arms. Maybe not forever, yet. But for now. And I know her name. Finally and forever.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #oneshot #criminal minds oneshot #spencer reid one shot #one shot #fluff #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #one shots

436 notes · View notes

nikcov · 3 months

Text

Reckoning Cinematic - Cluttered Theories and Thoughts

Obviously this contains spoilers for the Reckoning Cinematic, so be warned!

As a long time Omen and Cypher fan (where are the Cyphmen people at?) I was absolutely screaming whilst watching this cinematic. And as a big lore enjoyer, I have so many questions and theories.

First of all Viper. I loved to see the fragments of what happened to Omen before he become the wraith we know and love. And to be honest it's more of a drama than I imagined it to be. A widely accepted theory is that Viper was in love with or Omen and Viper were in some sort of relationship before it all happened. Even though we see Omen trying to murder Viper in the cinematic, this still can be true, or atleast for Viper.

In the cinematic we see that Omen is trapped in come sort of tube and a question I have is, why would she go through with trapping and ripping him into pieces unless there is something more? Killing would be so much easier, especially in the long run... I'm hoping we will get atleast some snippets of their conversation in the future.

So I have two theories for this. The first theory is based on some sort of platonic relationship between them/a one-sided crush. In the cinematic we see Omen wearing a hasmic suit (?). Why would he wear that to the assassination if he's nicknamed Ghost and probably incredibly stealthy? Maybe because he infiltrated Kingdom and won the trust of Sabrine to get close to her? Because I can't imagine why it would have such an impact on her (and eventually becoming Viper, with her dark comments and so) and remaining friends with Omen even after his assassination attempt, unless there is something else behind it. It would explain why she didn't kill him but did some sort of "hard reset" on Omen, but from the impression I get going drastically wrong (referencing to the voiceline from Viper to Sage: "Sage, you're the only one who can keep us alive. Don't fail us now like you failed me then." but the other ("Never, ever assume you can help me. You can't help me, you can't help them!") doesn't really aline with my theory because who is them?) and asking Sage to revive him making Omen who he is today. That brings me to the question, how does Viper know Sage?

The second theory is less relationship based. Basically Sabine made an expert out of Omen, ripping him appart thousands of times. This could already be the tripping point for Sabrine to become Viper, because she basically torturing a man and ending in something worse that death. Maybe calling him old friend is more sarcastic, but I don't think so, because another voiceline ("Joh- I mean, Omen. Keep yourself together, you're still needed.") suggests she does care about Omen, even before he became a wraith. So I think this is less plausible than my first theory.

Also why has Iso done a switcheroo on his former employer? I don't think Valorant would pay him more, maybe for the great ✨working atmosphere✨? Idk. I do like his supportiveness towards Omen. Maybe Iso also has an negative opinion towards them/experience with their ways of maintaining control?

So yea in conclusion, I thought the cinematic was very cool :)

Thank you for reading my bouncing ball brain ramble! If you have any theories of your own or any notes to mine, feel free to leave them :)

(A lot of kudos towards the animators, storyboarders, voice actors and everyone else that has worked on this Cinematic, it was brilliant)

#valorant #omen valorant #viper valorant #valorant omen #valorant viper #Valorant theory #Nikcov.txt #iso valorant #Valorant Iso #Valorant cinematic #Valorant reckoning

25 notes · View notes

silver-pieces · 1 year

Text

mandalorian’s mercy part nine

Previously ‘Are You Cold?’

Pairing: Alpha!Din x (afab) omega!fem!reader

Word Count: 7k

Synopsis: Yearning, desire, and consequences.

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, smut (MF, masturbation, dirty talk, omegaverse heats & ruts, breeding kink, sub/dom dynamic) a/b/o dynamics, tw: food

A/N: I just want to say again, thankyou to everyone for all of the love & support on this fic, it has made me so so happy 💕. I’m planning to post part 10, the finale, soon. As always, if you like my writing, please reblog. I hope you enjoy...

Divider ❊ Masterlist ❊ More Din ❊ Taglist

Part Eight < Series Masterlist > Part Ten

You’re thinking about him again.

In your hand sits the communicator Din gave you, the smooth curved shape now so familiar it’s etched in your brain. Your thumb runs over the buttons as you let your mind wander, drifting off to memories of him, of your Alpha, the attractive sound of his deep laughter and the warm secure grip of his hand around your waist.

A soft nudge to your side takes you out of it. “Hey.”

You blink. “Sorry, Anuma.” Shit. You run your hand over your face and stifle a groan. There’s still so much work to be done.

The Twi’lek sitting next to you knows better than to touch you again, but she peers at you with those sharp, discerning eyes, and although most of her features are masked, somehow you know she’s frowning. “You need to nest.”

A pang of fear goes through you. That word. You shake your head. “No, no, I’m not there yet.”

“Fine.” She sighs. “Take the water out then, you’re clearly of no use in here anymore.”

Heat rushes to your face. You look down at the table; the large pile of coin that should have already been counted up and stashed away still untouched. You stand and back away from the corner desk. “Sorry. I’ll - water...”

She regards you with a disapproving look, then turns back to the task, shaking her head and muttering to herself in Twi’leki.

You step up to the kitchen sink, the sound of clicking credits filling the room as she takes over your job.

Her office is still nothing but a small corner desk and a safe tucked into the nook of the kitchen. It’s makeshift, but there’s so many other things in this den that take priority when it comes to upgrades.

The kitchen itself has been a massive project, a job that took you most of the month to complete. Now, setting your eyes on the results of your hard work, you feel hopeful. It’s not great, but it’s a lot better than before.

The tap water is luxuriously cool. You splash some on your face to cool down, providing a brief respite from the heat clawing beneath your skin. You stare at your flushed reflection in the water and try not to burst into tears, or laughter.

The mood-swings that accompany your heat seem worse than last time. It’s incredibly draining, helping out with the den, one minute feeling happy and flirty and lighter than air, and the next, yearning for your Alpha hitting you like a punch to the gut until you feel like sinking to the floor and crying your eyes out.

No, it wasn’t like this last time. Last time, you were freshly off the blockers. This time, you’ve had a whole month without them.

As you go to leave the room with the tray in hand, Anuma blocks your path, a bottle of pills in her hand. “Please, take one.”

You brush her aside. “We’ve had this conversation.”

“There’s no need to torture yourself without an Alpha.”

You grit your teeth, hand on the doorknob, wishing she wouldn’t call it torture. “Save it for someone in need.” You open the door and step out.

“And what will your Alpha think?”

You halt midstep, some of the water spilling over the edges of the cups. Stars dammit, why did you ever tell her about what happened with Din?

She rounds you, arms crossed. The cloying scent of incense fills your lungs. “You already lied to him about your location, what do you think he’s going to do when he - ”

“It’s not about him,” you protest.

She gives you a look.

You sigh, gripping the tray a little tighter. “When I see those blockers, I see myself a month ago, completely unprepared to go into heat and desperate for blockers which you didn’t have. Sure, I had a trustworthy Alpha in the end, but what about the next Omega who walks through those doors?”

She casts her gaze down to the floor and sighs.

“I came here to help,” you continue. “So, please, stop tempting me with them. We only have a limited supply.”

She hesitates, before pocketing them. “I just... don’t want to see you in pain.” Flicking her eyes back up to you, you see a vulnerable side of her she rarely allows anyone to see.

You force the part of you that’s afraid deep down, and square your shoulders. “We set up the nests for this very situation. I promise, I’ll be fine.”

You already lied to him about your location -

You push her voice out of your head. You can’t think about that, not without being sucked into a downward spiral of anxiety and guilt and hormones.

People take water from the tray as you make the rounds through the den. Though the room itself is fairly big, it’s overflowing with Betas and Omegas seeking refuge every night. Still, the place has been improved a lot over the past few weeks.

For one, it smells a lot nicer now. Where there was once a dirt floor and simple fabric partitions, there’s now clean beds and privacy screens.

Your tray is light as you reach one of the employees, an Omega woman who showed up a few days ago and has been working here since. She never gave anyone her name, but you feel like you can trust her, like her eyes convey an air of strength and certainty.

She’s folding sheets and humming when you find her.

“Hey you, thirsty?” you say as you approach with the tray.

She stiffens, then turns to you with a raised eyebrow. “It’s you.”

“What?”

“That tangy scent,” she says, approaching to take a drink. “Normally we’ve relocated any Omega that smells like that into one of the nests. Are you sure you should be here, boss?”

“Not the boss,” you insist.

She shrugs, lifting the cup to her lips and taking a long drink.

You shift on your feet. “I don’t want to nest,” you confess. “It doesn’t feel right.”

Finishing the water, she sets the empty cup back on the tray and wipes her mouth. “You want my advice, boss?”

You nod.

She looks at you straight. “Stop waiting for it to feel right. Omegas cannot afford to be picky, and a nest is never going to feel right without an Alpha to make it for.”

An Alpha to make it for. Your knees go a little weak, and you can’t help the way your thoughts flick to him again. That’s it, little Omega. Make me another nest. His voice, clear as day.

A bolt of heat lunges through your veins. It’s sudden and brutal, and you gasp in pain. “Oh - stars!” The scent of your slick permeates the air.

“Shhhit,” the Omega curses, lifting the tray from your hands. “I think it’s here, boss. Come on and we’ll get you to a nest.”

Your stomach turns. She leads you away from the den, towards the back door which used to be a storage room. Now cleared and divided into private nesting spaces, it serves as a place for Omegas in heat to retreat to. Maker willing, the den would always have enough blockers to prevent anyone from going into heat, but there are always situations outside of your control.

The makeshift nests are designed to be scentless and comfortable, but also practical and cost-efficient. The intention behind it was to ease the pain of an untended Omega in heat, but now, all you feel is insulted as you’re lowered into one by the girl who calls you boss.

Nests are instinctual - special. You never made one before Din.

“No, it’s not right,” you gasp, sweating with heat and aching to your core. “Not without him here.”

“Try and sleep through it,” she says, fixing the sheets of the nest in a way which annoys you.

“Won’t help,” you murmur, curling in on yourself as a cramp hits you, and already you feel your eyes pricking with tears. “I’ll just dream about him.” Like you’ve been doing every night since you left him.

She narrows her eyes at you, standing up. “Who is ‘he’?”

Tears wet your cheeks. “Just an Alpha.”

“Ah.” Pity flashes in her eyes.

“What, no advice on how to get through this without him?”

She shrugs. “I wouldn’t know.”

You nod and curl back in on yourself. Her scent isn’t offensive, but like most Omega scents, it doesn’t appeal to you, and you find having her here both irritates you and distracts you from your heat.

“You know the drill,” she says from the doorway. “Meals will be delivered through the hatch. There’ll be morning checkups, so try to cover up after breakfast. And try and keep the noise down if you can.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Leave me alone now.

She shuts the door.

You bury your face into the stiff, odourless pillow and let out a whine. Heat floods between your legs. Your channel contracts around nothing, and your muscles tense and groan in dissatisfaction.

You’ve been through your heat without an Alpha before, but this time is different. This time, you know what you’re missing. You have memories to torture yourself with.

It’s too late to go on blockers now. You chose this. But you didn’t expect this level of desperation and pain so soon, so brutal. Fuck.

Soon, the heat gets too much, so you divest yourself of your clothes and dig yourself further into the nest, rubbing your needy scent on the sheets as much as possible.

Time loses meaning.

The room is dark and bare and silent.

The memory of his scent calls to you - a phantom scent that you remember well now that it’s missing.

It hurts.

It hurts so much that you feel paralysed by the pain and the discomfort, unable to move until there’s a knock on the door and food pushed through the hatch.

The scent of dinner food crawls over your skin and invades your nostrils, causing your instincts to go haywire. Wrong.

The thought of eating is about as unappetising as it could possibly get, but there’s a quiet, filtered voice in your head that reminds you that you need to keep your energy up, so you wolf it down in miserable silence and then shove the empty plate back through the door and lean forward to rest your head on the cool durasteel, temporarily abandoning your nest.

You breathe deeply, trying to calm your emotions, but the urge to cry is getting harder to resist. It’s hard to believe you’re only a few hours into this torture.

When the food has settled and you’ve cooled down as much as possible, you turn back to your nest, eyeing it in the dim light with disdain.

Your clothes lay strewn to the side, discarded over your nest in a way that feels unsatisfying. You’re not sure it will help, but maybe if you incorporate them into the nest properly...

Your hands move quickly as you fixate on the task you’ve given yourself. There’s enough slick slowly dripping between your legs that you decide to avoid putting your nice clothes in that region, instead opting to layer the fabrics nearer to your head so you can breathe in the scent more. It’s no Alpha scent, but it calms the territorial side of you to mark this place as your own.

Your hand catches on an object in one of the pockets in your clothes. The circular device can only be one thing - the communicator Din gave you.

Din.

A wave of sudden need hits you, overcoming everything else, and you find yourself abandoning your task, eagerly taking the communicator out of the clothes and propping it on a pillow almost reverently.

With a press of a button, the device lights up and you’re able to go through your encrypted messages. You bite your lip, anticipation rising.

Are you safe?

The latest message from Din, sent tonight, appears on the screen.

You melt at his words, and for that matter, slick is gushing from your pussy worse than before. You have to close your eyes and breathe through the pain for a moment.

The same message has been sent to you every day, but it never comes at exactly the same time, which is why you’ve resorted to carrying it around with you. It’s become your most treasured possession, the damned device burning a hole in your pocket as you help run the den.

Shit, the timecode indicates this was sent hours ago. This might just be the longest you’ve gone without responding. And if Din suspects something is wrong, he might try to find you on Minnoth.

Those thoughts are vague, distant worries that briefly concern you before you get swept up in your heat again. Your mind whirls, your instincts screaming at you Alpha, Alpha, Alpha, and your finger hovers over a second button. The forbidden one. The one he told you not to touch unless it was an emergency. Live holo.

This is an emergency, the hormonal side of you argues.

But then he’ll find out. He’ll know you didn’t go on blockers, and he’ll know you left Minnoth. He might come looking for you.

Your thighs squeeze together at the thought, because fuck, the thought of him coming for you is enticing, and suddenly you’re struggling to remember why you shouldn’t press the button.

It’s not encrypted, Din will freak out, and besides, you’re supposed to be avoiding talking to each other as much as possible. All very logical, important arguments.

But right now, you don’t care about any of that. There’s a deep, instinctual feeling within you, urging you to call him and tell him everything.

Your Alpha will make everything okay.

You press the button before you can talk yourself out of it.

“Stars, what am I doing?” you mutter to yourself, as you wait for him to pick up. Your mind’s gone blank, and you can’t remember why the little voice in your head is crying this is a mistake! Dread grows in your gut, but so does excitement, and need.

Then the hologram finally lights up, bathing the room in a soft electric glow.

Your breath stops as you take in the image of Din, live. He’s clearly sitting, leant forward over his holo, wearing nothing but a loose undershirt and his helmet.

“Omega?” comes his voice, urgent and gruff, and you could weep with happiness. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

You go to speak, but can’t find the words. You’re sitting in your nest, all alone and in heat, slick seeping into the sheets beneath you. He can probably see your nakedness. Fuck, it’s really him. “Din,” you breathe, taking the communicator and laying back into your nest, “I miss you.”

There’s silence for a second. His chest rises and falls. “Why did you call me?” he finally says.

You whimper, and a few tears slide down your face. “I need you. Need you here, with me.” In my nest.

He huffs a breath. “Omega.” There’s a growl in his tone that sends shivers down your spine.

You moan as a fresh gush of slick begins, and shift your legs and arch your back on instinct. “Oh...”

“Are you...”

“Yes?” You turn your head back to the holo, to him. He’s leaning closer now, like he’s trying to see you better.

“Are you in heat?”

“Yes,” you repeat, and let out an involuntary sob. The tears have started now, and they probably won’t stop for a while yet.

“Fuck,” he hisses, and the holo shakes and blurs as he moves on the bed. “Fuck.” His voice comes out muffled.

“Din?” Your anxiety grows, that little voice warning you in the back of your head that you did something wrong. But you can’t remember what. You need to see him again. You lean in closer to the holo, biting your lip. “Din I - I need to see you, please - ”

“I’m coming,” he says, but his voice sounds farther away. A few seconds later, the image stabilises, and you can see him sitting in the pilot’s chair, operating the control panel. “Fucking stars, Omega, wait for me.” He operates the ship, urgently tapping buttons and flicking switches. “I’m a day away from Minnoth - shit. Don’t let anyone else in. Where are you staying?”

You bite your lip.

“Omega, answer me. Where are you?” he growls, using his Alpha command. It’s supposed to be less effective on calls, but you still feel the urge to obey coming over you.

“I’m at the Omega Den,” you confess shakily. “On Coruscant.”

He growls. “What?”

“I’m sorry.” you whimper.

He rears back a little. “I don’t understand. Yesterday you said you were safe.”

“I was - I am - but I - ”

“You think you’re safe at the den, without blockers,” he finishes for you, a growl in his voice that hints his disagreement.

You nod. “I helped set this place up.”

He shakes his head. “You’re not making sense.”

“Sorry,” you say, heat rushing to your face. It’s hard to think properly - everything would be so much better if he was here. “Can you come?”

He shifts focus back to the operating panel, switching buttons as though to change course. After a few moments, he leans back in his seat and you can see him take a deep breath by the rise and fall of his chest. He shakes his head and murmurs low, “Coruscant is three days away.”

Your heart sinks. “Oh.”

“Fuck, little thief,” he growls, running a hand down his helmet.

A whimper escapes you, your insides clenching. He’s mad, and it’s your fault.

Shaking his head, he leans forward and flicks a few more buttons. His voice comes out distant as he leans away from the holo. “I’m setting the Razor to a hard burn. You stay inside until I get to you, okay? It’s not safe.”

“Okay,” you nod, trying to sound not as broken as you feel. “Are you angry with me? I just thought...” You moan as the needy ache in your core grows unbearable again. The pain is getting worse, causing your breaths to come out short and shallow as you twist and writhe in the nest, losing sight of the holo.

“Omega?” His voice is muffled again - distant. But warmth spreads through you at the sound. “Omega - talk to me.”

In heat and vulnerable, you stand no chance against his commands. “Din?” you call out. Your eyes open, and you catch sight of him again.

He’s sitting on the edge his bunk from the looks of it, bracing his elbows on his knees in a way that makes his biceps tense. “I’m right here,” he growls. “Talk to me.”

“Okay,” you breathe, eyes straying around the room. “Uh, I made a fucking terrible nest.”

“You nested?”

“Wasn’t my idea,” you murmur, picking at the sheets and rubbing your thighs together.

He growls. “Whose idea was it?”

“Anuma’s.”

“Who is Anuma?”

Your core clenches at his possessive tone. “Friend,” you whimper. “Beta.”

“Fuck.” The hologram shakes slightly, Din’s arm reaching down out of frame to his lower body, and you instantly realise he’s feeling himself.

Your body burns with need. “Alpha,” you cry out, half aware and half in a delirious state of heat and pain. The nest feels too hot and too cold at the same time, but you know it would all go away if Din was here, covering your body possessively with his, scenting you with his pheromones.

You turn over onto all fours and raise your ass up into the air, legs spread wide, without even thinking about it. “Din...”

He grunts, and you hear him shifting positions, but in your movement you lost track of the holo again. “Are you fucking presenting right now, Omega? Move the holo so I can see you better.”

Your eyes fly open. Where is it? You don’t want to move from your position - but you need to obey your Alpha. You scramble through your nest until you find the source of the glow, and whimper as you set your eyes on him again.

He’s shifted the view of the holo down, and you are so consumed by the sudden sight of his fist around his cock it sends a rush of slick to your cunt.

“Please, please, I need it,” you whimper, desperately following the movement of his hand up and down his length. “I’m so wet.”

“Fuck yes,” he groans. He jerks his fist faster, forearm tensing deliciously with the movement. “Fucking best feeling ever, pushing inside your wet cunt.”

Your body clenches, a whine pouring from your throat before you can stop yourself.

“I know,” he pants, “I know, Omega, it’s killing me too.”

“Need you inside me!”

“Show me.”

You blink at his order, then move, twisting onto your back and then taking the holo down your body, pointing it towards your pussy. You move so fast you barely even register what you’re doing - everything is on autopilot now, nothing except your heat and your Alpha. With your legs spread open, you give him a clear view of the wetness between your legs. “Can you see?”

You peer at him, and while you’ve been moving, so has he. He’s kneeling, the position perfect for him to hold his cock out in front and jerk himself off, the display giving you an up-close view of his hips, pelvis, and thighs.

“Yes,” is all he says, the word a deep grunt. He’s going faster now, furiously fucking his fist to the holo of you, and your legs spread wider for him.

The sight is erotic. You can almost feel each thrust as he begins jerking his pelvis, fucking into his fist. The knot at the base, already swelling, teasing you so bad your cunt feels ridiculously empty.

“Please fuck me,” you beg desperately, tears welling in your eyes again. “Please, Alpha.”

He growls in response, the sound broken up by the jerking of his hips, and it almost sends you over the edge. “Touch yourself,” he commands.

You instantly put your hand on your pussy and run a finger through your slick. Jolts of electric bliss emulate through you, and you start going faster, working yourself frantically, needing more more more -

“Greedy,” your Alpha says, jerking himself off to the sight. He sounds both furious and amused and your body reacts, like it does to everything he says, with more slick.

“Not enough,” you breathe.

“I know.”

“Need your knot, Alpha.”

“Keep going.” He sounds desperate now, and it sends shivers down your spine. He's big and hard and ready to knot you and the sight is an exquisite torture.

You moan, circling your clit and spreading your legs as wide as you can for him. “Cum. Cum inside me.”

“Fuck yes, Maker,” he groans. “Want to knot and breed you, Omega. Fill you up with me, sink my teeth in your neck, split you apart on my knot - ”

“Din.” You start to come, realising he’s gone into rut and it’s exactly what your inner Omega wants more than anything. You lose your grip on the holo but it doesn’t matter because you can still hear his deep groan when he comes as well, sending you further into bliss.

As you ride it out together, he rambles praises and promises like an Alpha in rut is compelled to do, and it’s perfect.

Mentally, you’re in bliss. Physically, however, you’ve never felt emptier.

Laying in your nest in the aftermath, you blink slowly and reach around to find the holo again.

He’s standing now, peeling off his shirt and shifting things around the space as though getting ready for a rut.

When he turns back to the holo, he catches you watching him, and growls, leaning down towards you. “Again?”

With a shiver, you nod.

Across holo, you tease orgasms out of each other, one after another, until you’re soaked in ineffective pheromones and sweat.

First on all fours, presenting. Then kneeling so he can see your tits. Now on your back again because you’re getting exhausted. He gets off on the commands, and you get off on obeying them.

“That’s five, little thief.” Din pants.

You lift your hand from your slick pussy and try not to wince as another wave of heat overcomes you for a moment, filling you with nausea and desperation. You need more, but your inner muscles feel abused and sore from your meagre fingers.

A tear falls down the side of your face. “Why aren’t you here, Alpha?”

He sucks in a breath. “Omega...”

“I know.” You wipe your tear away and roll over in your nest, burying your face in your own scent. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault.”

“Don’t talk like that.”

You bite your lip and roll over again to face him in the holo. He’s laying down, naked except for his helmet, watching you. “But I’ve fucked everything up.”

“Omega, don’t.” He sounds torn. “Not while I can’t be there to comfort you.”

More tears fall, even as you wipe them away. “Fuck, I’m sorry. My hormones are a mess without you.”

He groans and rolls on his back, looking up at the ceiling. “When I find you, we can talk. Exchange stories. And I will want to know. Everything, Omega.”

You nod solemnly.

“But, right now?” His voice lowers. “I couldn’t give a fuck about any of it. I missed you.”

Your heart soars.

The sound of someone knocking on the door interrupts you. The hatch opens and a food tray slides through. "Hey boss, breakfast.”

Breakfast time already? It feels like the time has flown by, and yet, there’s still so much more of this you have to go through without your Alpha. Two and a half fucking days. Any appetite you may have built up leaves you at the thought. You push yourself up to look at the dish.

“What is it?” Din asks.

You lay back down in your nest, peeking up at your holo. “Nothing, just breakfast.”

He snaps his head toward you instantly, and his voice comes out a growl. “Someone saw you?”

A rush of heat floods through you at his tone, and you quickly shake your head, shifting your legs to relieve the pressure between them. “No, no, there’s a food hatch.”

“At the den? Where are the others?” He doesn’t sound convinced.

“It’s okay,” you start, giving into the urge to please your Alpha as much as possible. It’s impossible to ignore how attractive his growing protectiveness is. You’re struggling to form sentences, too distracted by hormones stirring up your heat. “They have private nest spaces now, in case of emergency.” You bite your lip and shift in your nest. Maker he looks so broad and strong laying out on his bunk, one arm bent back behind his head, flexing his bicep. When you see him next, you’re going to bite him.

“Smart,” he grunts in response, sounding slightly more relaxed.

“I need you to fuck me.” The words are out of your mouth before you can think about it.

His growl is instant, and dangerously low, and you watch in eager anticipation as he leans over and grabs the holo, staring at you through his visor. “You need to eat your breakfast first.”

You sigh. “I knew you’d say that.”

“Then do it, Omega.”

“Why should I? There’s no-one here to make me.”

“Are you disobeying me?”

Oh. You don’t respond, frozen by his words.

“Omega.”

You whimper.

“Eat.”

And just like that, you’re getting up to retrieve the tray. As you return and sit back down in front of the holo, a thought crosses your mind, and you pause. “What about you?”

He tilts his head. “I'll be fine.”

You frown. “But you need to eat too.”

“I don’t want to leave you. Not while you’re in heat.”

Your heart melts for him, but you can’t let him get away with this. As you slip a spoonful of breakfast gruel into your mouth, you summon all the dominance you can muster while in heat, swallow, and glare at him. “You’re in rut, too, if I’m not mistaken. Cover the holo while you eat, and I’ll talk to you so you know I’m still there.”

He tilts his head at your display, folding his arms. “You’re cute. I’ll be fine.”

You glare harder, but maker, he’s stubborn. You sigh, and, tapping into your Omega nature, beg. “Please, Alpha?” you ask, giving him pleading eyes. “I need you to keep up your strength for me.”

He stares at you silently, but you notice his arms losing a little of their stiffness.

“Please,” you beg again.

He gives a shake of his head, and sighs. “Don’t... don’t beg like that... that is unfair.”

You laugh. “Good to know.”

“Eat your breakfast.” The holo goes shaky as he gets off the bunk. “I’ll get something now.”

“And you’ll stay on the call?”

“Yes.”

You watch the holo closely as you eat. There’s something so domestically fulfilling about eating together, and like watching one of the most interesting holovids in your life, you end up absent-mindedly snack on your breakfast food while watching him methodically prepare his meal with all the precision of the bounty hunter who tracked you down in that backwater hotel.

By the time he sits down to eat, you’re almost finished, setting the food tray aside.

He speaks to you gently. “I’m covering the holo, but we can still talk.”

You nod. “Yeah.”

He reaches for the holo, and then the image disappears.

You lean in. “Din?” You call, just to check

“Yes,” comes the low sound of his voice.

You smile, and lay back in your nest.

“Talk to me, Omega.”

Wandering your hands along the fabrics of the nest, you close your eyes and imagine you’re next to him. But when you open your eyes, he’s still not there, and it hurts. Sighing, you roll onto your front and stare at the blank device.

“I thought about calling you every day, but the live holo... you said someone could track it?”

It takes a moment for him to respond. “Yeah, they might.”

Your stomach clenches. Ending contact with him is not an option you can even consider, and yet, you worry. “Am I... in danger?”

The clattering of cutlery crackles through the speaker. “No.” The speaker picks up a slight catch in his breath. “I hope not.”

He’s worried. Concern overtakes you at the thought, and suddenly you’re thinking clearly. “You know what, yeah, it will be okay. We set up protections here, even if someone does... come looking.” You nod confidently to yourself.

“Protections?”

The curiosity in his tone makes you perk up. “You want me to tell you about them?”

You can hear the slight smile in his voice as he response. “Yes I do, little thief. Tell me what you’ve been doing.”

Heat rushes to your face, and like a criminal confessing, you begin to explain in detail all the various projects you’ve been working on over the past few weeks without him.

All conversation ends as soon as Din reappears in the holo. You’re a whimpering, needy Omega in heat, and as he sees your reaction, he growls out a command. “Present.”

Stars, you’ll never get used to his voice, even through the vocoder and over holovid, and even without the command, you would eagerly obey him.

But as you go to position yourself on all fours for him, a gentle knock sounds on the door.

You freeze.

“What is it?” your Alpha growls, his thickened, hard cock taking up the entire frame of the holo as he strokes it up and down.

More raps against the door. “Boss? You covered up? It’s checkup time, I’m coming in...”

Shit! Checkups after breakfast, how could you forget? Your eyes dart around the nest as you take in the scene. Maybe it wouldn’t matter if they knew you about the holo, but the territorial side of you doesn’t like it, and right now, that’s the part that’s in control.

There’s a beeping as the Omega on the other side of the door punches in the unlocking code.

Your insides clench, because fuck, your Alpha will have to wait. “Just a moment!” you call out, sitting up and scrambling to get things in order.

“Omega.”

You snatch the holo and hold it close to your mouth so you can whisper. “They’re coming in to check up on me.”

“What? Who?”

“Omega. I don’t know her name, but I trust her.”

He growls. “You don’t need her.”

“I know.”

“You need me.”

“I know, Alpha,” you breath, your hormones flaring at his possessiveness. “I’ll get rid of her as soon as possible, but they won’t leave without doing a proper checkup.”

He jerks his head, as if trying to come to terms with this. You can see the tendons in his neck tense as he clenches his jaw.

You bite your lip to keep your reaction at bay.

“Fuck. I can’t stop it,” he growls angrily, “...but if she touches you, Omega, I will kill her.”

Maker. “She won’t,” you assure him breathlessly.

He nods, and you see the image of him move as though he’s walking around, pacing as he watches.

You tuck the communicator beneath a fold in your nest, and the holo image of Din disappears. Your stomach drops in despair at not being able to see your Alpha, so deep into your heat.

Lifting the thinnest sheet on your overheated form, you clear your throat and call out to the Omega.

“Come in.”

With a beep and a click, the door slides open, and the Omega who calls you boss stares down at you with a raised eyebrow. “Bad time?” she asks.

“Always.” Your pussy gives out a needy throb, missing the attention you were about to give it moments earlier.

She snorts. “I’ll be quick then. You okay?”

You nod.

“Good.” She spreads her hands out, open. “Anything you need, now’s the time.”

“I’m fine,” you start to say, before eyes widening as you remember something. “No-one has come asking for me, have they?”

She frowns. “No... You expecting someone?”

You breath a sigh of relief. “No, no, just paranoid. Thanks.”

“Right,” she nods, eyeing you curiously, before turning to go. “I’ll keep an ear out.” And with a slap of her hand on the number pad, the door slides shut again.

You move instantly, frantically fumbling through the nest for the communicator. The holo lights up with the image of him pacing back and forth with his form tense, arms folded, and head lowered.

“Din,” you breathe, the needy ache between your legs growing.

He stops pacing and snaps his head towards you.

You swallow. “She’s gone.”

He comes close to the holo until only his lower stomach is in view, his hardness standing at attention. “Present,” he snarls.

His dominance sends a rush of slick between your legs, a whine rising in your throat. You follow your natural instinct to present, getting on all fours, arching your back down low, and spreading your legs so he can see everything.

For a moment he says nothing, and there’s just the static sound of his panting.

Is he stroking himself? “Alpha, please,” you moan, slick running down the inside of your thigh.

“You want my cock inside you, don’t you?”

“Yes!” you tip your head back, rocking yourself on all fours. “Please!”

“Fuck, so do I. I want it so bad and you’re right there and I can’t.”

You rock back more, whimpering. “I’m so empty.”

He groans.

“Please, Alpha, please.”

“Just... just finger yourself.”

Disappointment floods through you, even though you know it’s the best you can do for yourself right now. Stiffly, you reach a hand between your legs.

“Show me your slick.”

You part your pussy more for him and run a finger through it.

“Fuck. I have to taste you again.”

You bury your face into the nest as your fingers begin working your pussy. “Oh.” A moan escapes you.

“When I find you,” he pants, “I’m going to have you against a wall again.”

You moan louder.

“And then bent over something.”

“Yes.”

“Closest fucking waist-high surface,” he snarls.

You grit your teeth as a wave of pleasure moves through you. “Oh fuck, oh please!”

“My teeth on your fucking neck.”

Bliss fills your body at the thought. “Claiming me,” you breathe. “I want you to.”

“Uh huh,” he grunts.

“I mean it, Din. It’s all I’ve been thinking about for weeks.” And it has been. The entire time you’ve been away from him, all you’ve been thinking about, is being with him again. It feels like where you belong, and you’ve been dying not being able to tell him in person.

“Me too,” he rumbles, voice low and soft, and warmth blooms within your chest. “Me too, little thief. I...”

You swallow back your relief. Thank the stars, you would never have had the courage to just come out and say it if you weren’t in heat, but now, he knows, and he still wants it too.

“I’m so close,” you moan.

“I see that,” he pants.

You spread your legs wider for him. “It’s all for you, Alpha. All of it.”

“Shit,” he curses, panting louder. “Then come for me, Omega. That’s an order.”

You reach the peak of your orgasm with a cry of his name, submitting to his order like the good Omega you want to be for him.

“Ah, fuck, I need to be inside you,” he groans and pants as he comes, and you look down between your legs to see him on the holo, his cock still in frame as he grips his knot, bent forward kneeling on the bunk and shooting his seed onto his sheets.

A second orgasm wracks through your body at the sight. What you wouldn’t give to receive his spend inside you right now and fulfil exactly what your body is craving. Instead, you can only watch in desire and despair as it all goes to waste.

As your legs give out, you roll over onto your front, perching the holo on a pillow in front of you. Din has his head buried in his sheets, and as you watch, he pushes himself back up into a kneeling position, his bare chest glistening with sweat. His cock is already hard again.

“I meant it,” you say.

The blue pixels of the holo shift with slight movement of his helmet. He nods. “So did I.”

The aftermath of your heat comes too fast and too slow all at once. You could talk to Din for days and not get bored, but you’ve been breathing in nothing but your own pheromones and scent for days, and your skin is crawling with the urge to shower.

So when your new Omega friend knocks on the door next, you finally muster up the energy to get up.

All of your sheets are stained with slick. Without much else choice, you find the least offensive one and wrap it around your sore, naked form, and trawl your way through the den.

It’s not until after your shower that you remember your communicator is still in the nest.

You rush back, fully dressed and cleaned, and rummage through the nest until you find it - out of charge.

It’s unclear in your memory when exactly the holo cut out, between talking to Din, or during your sleep, but your heart hammers in your chest at the thought of Din seeing the holo end for no reason, and realising you were gone.

You plug it in to charge and wait anxiously for it to turn back on.

Finally it lights up, and you find a message waiting for you.

Stay.

You almost laugh.

I’m not a dog, you respond back, and then add, Yes, Alpha.

“Boss? Boss!”

You turn around and find the new Omega rushing into the room, eyes wide. “There’s a Mandalorian here to see you. An Alpha.”

You stand. “Did you see him?”

She shakes her head. “Anuma warned me. She’s talking to him now, I think.”

You nod. “Best to stay inside.”

“It’s him, isn’t it?” she asks. “The Alpha you were mumbling about in your heat? He’s here for you.”

Heat rushes to you face, and you brush past her. “Maybe.” You hope so. “Go to the others. No-one goes in or out until Anuma gives the go ahead. Full lockdown, just in case, okay?”

She nods, getting that hard look in her eyes, and turns down the hall on your orders.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. Then, closing your eyes, you try and slow your heart beating its way out of your chest. If it’s Din outside... fuck it. You can’t bear another second behind this door.

You push down the handle and step outside. The air isn’t much better than within, and as you fill your lungs with that familiar dirt-poor street scent, you pick up the calming tones of Anuma’s beta scent, and then, the Alpha’s.

Your eyes fly open.

Paz Vizsla stands on the darkened street, one hand on his blaster as he talks down to a very furious looking Anuma.

“I have no interest in shutting down your operation.”

“What operation?” Anuma shrugs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

It happens suddenly - the breeze shifts, and the bounty hunter catches your scent. He stiffens and raises his visor towards you, noticing you peeking out from the door.

Fuck.

Then, movement out of the corner of your eye - a second figure emerges from the shadows.

There’s a scar down his face, but in the light, you immediately recognise him.

Cold fear runs down your spine. It’s the Alpha, the one who came to collect you. You should run.

A wicked growl erupts from his chest. He grins. “There she is.”

Paz glances back at him, and nods.

Part Eight < Series Masterlist > Part Ten

345 notes · View notes

n0brainjustvibes · 5 months

Note

Sophia Hess for the Worm character opinion bingo!

SOPHIA TIME!! Double bingo, babey... I'm deep in the brainrot. As before, no. of crosses indicates strength of agreement, and explanations below the cut...

obligatory made this with 1/2 brain and might reblog with addendums disclaimer

1.6 mil words and we don't know her trigger event... we have the barest scraps about her family... we don't see much of how prison affected her... give me the sophia hess interlude wildbow. where is the sophia hess interlude 🥺🥺🥺

WHAT MADE HER A BREAKER

i keep designing her cool ass costumes in AUs and forgetting that her canon costume is a fuckin. grey camo cloak. pigeon core. i Get It for practicality but where's the FLAIR

she's fine :) so so fine :) my child with every problems disorder

not so much a Take as like. why do people put 5 paragraphs of graphic torture revenge fic disguised as "THIS is what she ACTUALLY deserves" in the comments on Sophia Redemption Fics. babes you're on the graphic torture revenge fic website you could read literally anything else

she was wrong.

"but she fought nazis" she was right there. but she still did also do a lot of extrajudicial technically-torture. and I would bet a lot of the people she extrajudicially technically-tortured were forcibly conscripted (canon for the ABB) or forced into crime by circumstance (cough. undersiders) et cetera. also torture is wrong

the prowler au of her in my head. :)))

others' fics specifically did SO much 4 me!! tilt and mixed feelings and of course the saint's blade. still inlove with your take on sophia's relationship to death/killing gonna make an analysis post when I get to it in the reread

ms. extrajudicial vigilante girl in a city that Really Does Need to come down harder on the Literal Fucking Nazis And Sex Traffickers but she's killing people and where do u draw the line. ms. calling punitive justice into question from both sides. ms. Glory-Girl-Character-Foil that didn't really go anywhere. ms. making emma worse and vice versa <3 prime fucked up shipfic material. ms. becoming what she sought to destroy (post coming here too) ms. discussing the morality of vengeance (alec interlude my BELOVED) etc etc.

#worm bingo #sophia hess

27 notes · View notes

spookfished · 22 days

Text

media roundup february

hi everybody :3 i didnt really read a lot in february i was busy 'doing school' and 'looking for employment.' sad! i have spring break coming up so im planning on using that time to read a bunch (and also apply for more jobs -_-) this post and previous can be found on my neocities!

books:

revenant gun by yoon ha lee: the last book in the hexarchate series, starting with ninefox gambit. (slightly edited from my discord review, SPOILERS INCOMING). in machineries of empire, there a disconnect between what the audience craves and what the book is willing to give them-- for example, things like Whats up with the calendar + the hexarchate, why did jedao do all that, etc. this works in the books favor (imo) by increasing tension, creating a sense of discovery, and avoiding clunky exposition.

however in the two sequels it expands not just to what the audience wants but also what they like. care about? some big examples are the weight of the remembrances* and less cheris, but also stuff like jedaos focus. which isnt bad like i like jedao. but like, if you Dont you sure do get a lot of him. also did anyone actually like brezan sorry. hes fine like for example with the end of a memory called empire, when the protag (forgot her name sorry) loses her brain buddy, it feels like a second coming of age almost--her brain buddys been a crutch but now she gets to stand on her own (albeit as a changed person, with brain buddys influence). vs cheris who kinda starts to feel like a cameo character who literally fucks off for nine years??? there is also a sort of ongoing sense of "these sacrifices for the greater good are ok (if sad) and these are not" whihc ngl sometimes feels pretty arbitrary to me. and given that machineries of empire focuses on like the Littlest most downtrodden people it really is wild yhat we dont see a lot of civilian life? anyways i enjoyed it and i think its worth finishing out the trilogy but it wasnt as satisfying as i could have hoped (ALSO NINEFOX GAMBIT IS A REALLY FUN SOLID READ. I LIKED IT A LOT)

*the rememberances are a set of ritualized tortures that create a power structure that literally powers a lot of the empire's technology. this is a very cool concept! a big part of jedao and cheris' rebellion is about making a place that Doesnt have to run on torture. except that like, besides the intellectual knowledge that Torture Is Bad as a reader i didnt really feel that invested in this? like we only get to See a remembrance happening midway thru book 3. im not like advocating for torture porn or anything but it seems weird to have that be the focal thing when neither cheris nor jedao had any scenes where they were affected by it (and so the audience didnt have anything like that either). idk it kinda just stood out to me. like yes i care about these characters but why should i care about This specifically

hexarchate stories by yoon ha lee: an anthology set in the world of machineries of empire, expanding the world and fleshing out some stories. this was pretty solid! theres a wide range of stories and lengths, and i liked the variety :3 its like a little charcuterie board. (yoon ha lee's bias for shuos jedao really stands out here though..) its kinda essential reading to me imo though bc otherwise the ending of revenant gun isnt that satisfying :| lol anyways once again if youve read ninefox gambit check it out! spoilers for the whole series tho

exordia by seth dickinson: hard scifi about agency, impossible choices, and how they shape you. also, international geopolitics! like ninefox gambit, exordia demands your attention and concentration. you kinda have to read it at a time when you have brainpower to spare. however, exordia rewards everything that you put into it :3 i ended up learning so many random facts during this book… like AGL meaning above ground level. i feel like i need to read a book about democratic confederalism now also. a couple of my other friends read this book and got lost in the large cast and intricate web of events--i didnt have as much of an issue but u might need a piece of paper or sth. exordia is a book that's dense enough to feel like three books, and that can be good or bad. seth dickinson has this really spare, concise prose that leaves a lot to your imagination but also like. can sum up a person or situation in just a couple sentences? and that leaves a lot of room for the reader to investigate which i like :3 hm what else to say…. i really liked clayton (clayton!!!!) but i found erik super annoying ymmv. the ending kinda leaves you at a loss which i honestly kinda like? like yeah obv a sequel would be nice but i like it the way it is. anyways not for the faint of heart but id still recommend<3

accidentally engaged by farah heron: f/m romance aww so cute <3 really nice contemporary romance which tosses together a bunch of tropes--arranged romance, fake dating, baking together--into something that actually works really well! the two leads were very charming and i liked reading about the good food. i liked the way the protagonist's almost-stereotypical portrait of a loving but strict south asian family (am i allowed to say this) gets fleshed into a group of honestly kinda bizarre people that love her and that reena can genuinely connect with. yay family! overall, not especially memorable to me personally but still enjoyable. rec if youre into contemporary romance

last breath: the limits of adventure: realistic fiction (?) about what it feels like to drown, die of dehydration, fall from a cliff, etc. lots of research, very thorough! (well sometimes they live and sometimes they dont). an expansion of this absolutely fantastic article about hypothermia. honestly none of the stories quite live up to this one imo but this is still a really solid and exciting read! i couldnt put it down! although it does have a touch of the orientalism that you get from like, a lot of extreme sports circles lol. i would definitely recommend reading the article, and maybe read the book if it especially interests you.

video games:

pokemon legends of arceus: a pokemon game set in the past that breaks the mold by letting you dodge roll. my opinions here coincide pretty closely with the dunkey video, which is that this is a really fun game that is also literally half finished. controls are clunky, story is paper thin, graphics are fucked, overworld is extremely empty but its also just very fun?? it took over my life for like two weeks and i missed class???? anyways i would not get this at full price but if you can borrow it from a friend its super interesting to experience. im looking forward to the kalos one :3

slay the princess: a horror? romance? visual novel about saving the princess, slaying tbe princess, and everything in between featuring the vocal chops of that one magnus archives guy. dudeee this is so fun! i think its very kind to the guy inside of me who is Embarrassingly Anxious about any and all video game choices that can like, affect the narrative. lmfao its fun to fit in a couple runs or two between other things, but i did start losing track of what previous paths id taken after a bit of a gap. however!!! i would definitely think about playing this game if you like visual novels or Narrative or Loops! or girls who kill lol theres a free demo if you want to try it out

movies:

velocipastor: action movie about a priest who turns into a velociraptor to punish the wicked!!!! so fucking cool a lot of love put into this (low budget) movie made me so sad i dont speak cantonese (? at least i think thats what it was) watch this with friends

music:

Gato by nobonoko: really fun 80s synth jazz? album written by two fictional gay furries. no wait come back ok this is one of those things i got recommended by youtube and then actually listened to it a bunch of times its just very soothing and nice :3 ive been listening to jazz pretty much my whole life so i have a huge bias. also im a sucker for fictional bands eg splatoon… also the art is so cute?? those two guys?? its hard to pick a favorite song but i think i like the titular gato! also theres a bunch of other stuff made by the same two artists

option by Crosses: i totally forgot what the genre for this is but its like when metal guys are like i need to have a song for my metal wedding. song recommended by neil -_- anyways very sappy im fond of it nonetheless. i definitely did think it said "can you promise me to the grave"

Roy by Idles: from british rock band idles new album tangk! im going to be honest i did not like this album as much as some of the other ones by idles, but thats ok! hmm when i play this song out loud during crew shifts i feel embarrassed. but i really like seeing how idles' vocalist's voice has evolved over time! the way hes branched out into more melodic and belty stuff over time is very fun. the prechorus + chorus are very fun to sing along to as well :3 its just a fun song

anyways if you read any portion of this thanks as always :3 what else to say.. i made pandesal recently and its been my only successful bread that i can remember. go me! anyways see you guys in a bit

#txt

9 notes · View notes

nerdzzone · 1 year

Text

Eyes Open Wide

Summary: After spending their lives as ‘just friends’, Chris and Madeline decide they want to be more.

Part of the Back To You series

Note: I think this is probably one of my favourite chapters so please let me know what you think about it!

-----

March 2011

To say that Chris was confused would be an understatement.

He tried to focus on the rhythm of his footsteps and the sound of his feet hitting the sidewalk beneath them, but nothing could pull his attention away from the thoughts bouncing around his mind. He knew he didn’t have long - the show ended almost fifteen minutes ago and he’d promised to meet her in the lobby not long after - but the theatre had felt suffocating and he needed some fresh air if he had any hope of making sense of his thoughts.

He was in love with Madeline.

The realization had hit him as he watched her float across the stage earlier that evening. It was her first performance as one of the American Ballet Theatre’s principal dancers and he’d been bursting with pride from the moment he walked into the theatre before the show. When she came out on stage and he felt his heart swell at the sight of her, he’d thought maybe it was just that - adoration and admiration that she’d achieved what she’d been working so hard for - but when the feeling seemed to grow and the endearment he felt seemed almost overwhelming, he couldn’t shake the idea that it was more than he first thought.

At the start of that year he’d decided to take his personal life more seriously. He didn’t want any more messy flings or casual relationships, he wanted to find someone that he could share his life with and start a family with. That decision had made most of his romantic endeavours pretty unsatisyfing so - if he was being honest - his first thought was that he was just a little too sexually frustrated. Madeline was beautiful and the years of intensive dance training had left her with a very toned and tight body and even though there’d never been anything but friendship between them he was still a man and would’ve had to be blind to not notice how attractive she was. He assumed that the way she stretched and pliéd across the stage in her skin tight leotard was just too much for him in his pent up state, but by the time they reached the intermission and he had a quiet moment to catch his breath, he realized that what he was feeling was deeper than just an attraction.

He was in love.

It made perfect sense and as the idea began to take root in his mind it seemed so obvious, but he couldn’t figure out why something that had been so clearly in front of him for most of his life could be so blindsiding.

They’d always had a connection. They seemed to understand each other in a way that no one else did and he found that time with her always kept him centered. He favoured her opinion above almost anyone else’s and he knew that he’d always been a little too protective of her as the thought of anyone causing her any kind of pain got under his skin in a way that few other things could. He’d always told himself that it was just brotherly affection, but now that the thought of it being more had slipped by whatever defense mechanism his brain had created to protect the status quo of their relationship, it was undeniable.

There was nothing brotherly about the way he wanted her or the visions that were playing through his mind like a torturous slideshow. Visions of her curled up on the couch pressed against his side. Or of his arm resting around her waist, letting everyone know that she was his. Or of her stretched out in his bed, tangled up in his sheets. His imagination was running wild and he was grateful for a distraction when he reached the florist that he’d spotted on his way to the theatre earlier that day.

The feel of the door’s cool glass window under his hand as he pushed it open helped snap him out of his thoughts as he focused on the current task he faced. Putting his feelings aside, she’d nailed her performance. He knew that she could be her own harshest critic and he knew that she’d put a lot of pressure on herself as it had been her first performance in such a leading role, but even though he’d had the distraction of wrestling with his feelings, Chris knew without a doubt that she’d performed flawlessly. Flowers seemed a little overdone and far less than she deserved, but Chris made sure to pick out the best bunch of roses he could find before a quick glance at his watch had him practically running back to the theatre.

Hey! Where are you? I hope you didn’t leave without saying goodbye!

The text came in from Madeline just as he was opening the door to the lobby, but he heard her calling out for him before he had the time to answer. He turned towards her voice and felt his heartbeat stutter as he caught sight of her standing with her parents, her tights and leotard changed for a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt despite the stage make-up that still graced her features.

“I guess you guys beat me to the flowers,” Chris observed as he walked over to their group, gesturing at the bouquet already in her arms. “But you were so good, I had to get you something.”

Any progress he’d made with gathering his thoughts was shattered as soon as she’d flashed him a smile as the pure joy on her face almost knocked the breath right out of him. He stood stunned as she handed the flowers that she was already holding over to her mother and threw herself into his arms. The feel of her wrapping herself around his waist and the familiar smell of her favourite hairspray pulled him back into the moment as she spoke.

“Thank you,” she murmured against his chest, lingering in his embrace for a moment longer than he would have expected, but not nearly as long as he would have liked before she stepped away and took the gift from his hand. “Did you like the show?”

“I loved it! You were amazing!”

“You really thought so? I was so nervous, I was worried the audience would be able to see how bad my legs were shaking.”

“Nah, you looked like a total pro.”

He could see her practically melt with relief at his assurance, but as she threw a barrage of other questions at him about what he thought of various moments of the show, Chris came to another realization.

It wasn’t the time to share his feelings.

When he’d first accepted how he felt, he’d had a desperate urgency to tell her. He needed to know if she felt the same and the thought of how much time they’d wasted if she did filled him with panic. He didn’t want to waste another minute, but as he stood in front of her and soaked up her bubbling excitement, he knew it wasn’t the right time for the conversation he wanted to have.

That night was about her and her accomplishments and he didn’t want to steal even a spec of her well-earned spotlight.

There was also the chance that his confession wouldn’t be very well received and he didn’t want anything to put a damper on the triumph she was feeling or the gleeful smile on her face. So, he shelved his racing thoughts for the time being and answered all her questions - doing his best to convey just how incredible her performance had been - until a happy sigh fell from her lips.

“I’m really proud of myself…”

The words were soft - almost like she was afraid to admit it - and Chris rushed to agree.

“You should be,” he insisted as her parents echoed his sentiment. “You deserve this and we’re all really proud of you.”

“Thank you, Chris.”

Her eyes grew glassy as she spoke and as she looked up at him from under her dark, painted lashes the words ‘I love you’ were on the tip of his tongue as the feeling welled up inside him the same way that it had when he was watching her on stage. He had to practically bite his lip to stop the confession from slipping out and he was grateful when her dad’s voice pulled Madeline’s gaze away.

“What are your plans tonight, Chris?” Greg chimed in. “We’re going to get some food if you’d like to join us?”

It was a tempting offer, but while Chris was eager to spend as much time with Madeline as possible, he worried that he wouldn't be able to keep his newfound feelings under wraps if he lingered too much longer.

“I wish I could, but I’ve gotta leave early in the morning so I should probably have an early night.” It wasn’t entirely a lie, but even though he did have a flight to catch he knew that sleep wouldn't be coming easily with all the thoughts bouncing around in his head. However, he turned his attention back to Madeline as he thought about when he would next be able to see her. “We start filming The Avengers in about a month. If I’m back in town in a few weeks, could we hang out before then?”

The question caught Madeline off guard as she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

“Of course,” she assured him, her tone making the words sound more like she’d intended to say ‘duh’ than the polite words she’d chosen. “I’ll probably have rehearsals or training, but I’ll be here.”

“Great,” Chris smiled, pulling her into another hug. “Congratulations, Maddie. I’ll see you soon.”

He felt Madeline’s arm that wasn’t holding her flowers slide back around his waist and squeeze him tight. It took more strength than he was proud to admit, but he eventually managed to pull himself away from her and say goodnight to their little group before dragging himself towards the door, feeling like he was leaving his heart right there in Madeline’s hands.

April 2011

Something was wrong with Chris.

Madeline didn’t know what it was, but there was something strange about how he was behaving.

Even with their busy schedules, they usually checked in every couple days. It wasn’t always a full conversation, but they would regularly exchange texts even if it was just mundane things or silly comments about their day. However, since Chris had left New York Madeline had barely heard from him. He always answered her messages eventually, but sometimes it took him several days and he hardly ever initiated a conversation.

She knew it was weak evidence which was why she hadn’t brought her concerns to anyone else, but she had a feeling in the pit of her stomach that something was bothering him - something that he didn’t want to talk about - and his behaviour when he arrived at her apartment once he returned to New York did nothing to ease her worries.

“Hi,” she smiled, opening the door. “You’re early.”

“Yeah,” he nodded as he dropped his bag by the door and strode into the living room. “I was gonna check in to my hotel, but I wanted to come here first.”

The nervous energy radiating off of him had Madeline on high alert and the way he began pacing around her living room only added to her tension.

“Is everything okay?”

Her question caught Chris’ attention, but didn’t stop his movement and she snuck past him to sit on the edge of her couch.

“Yeah, I think so,” he nodded when he finally paused and shoved his hands in his pockets as if he was trying to make himself as small as possible. “Well, I hope so. I mean, everything’s fine right now, but I hope it stays that way.”

His anxiety was obvious and had Madeline’s stomach in knots as she hoped that she would be able to offer him some kind of comfort once he finally got whatever was clearly bothering him off his chest.

“You’re making me a little nervous, Chris,” she informed him gently, not wanting her concern to add to his stress levels. “Do you wanna tell me what’s going on?”

His only acknowledgement of her question was a firm nod before he returned to his task of wearing a hole in her floor with his pacing. Knowing that it was often better to give him the space to gather his thoughts than to hound him for answers, Madeline simply watched patiently for a few moments until he paused again and lifted his eyes to meet hers for the first time since he’d arrived.

“Are you seeing anyone right now?”

His blunt and seemingly out of nowhere question left Madeline even more baffled than before as she struggled to make sense of all his odd behaviour.

“Like, romantically?”

“Yeah, like a boyfriend or whatever.”

“No,” Madeline shook her head. “I’ve been spending almost all my time training since the fall when I heard that the principal dancer spot was up for grabs and then when I got it, I wanted to make sure I really proved myself. I haven’t really had time for dating.”

It was more of an in depth explanation than she thought Chris might have expected, but she was too busy trying to puzzle out what could possibly be going on with him to worry about being concise.

“Okay, great. Well, that’s good.”

His shoulders dropped in relief, but his words seemed to be said more to himself than to Madeline and she was growing desperate for some answers.

“Why? What does that have to do with anything?”

Her question had Chris stopping in his tracks as he scoffed out a laugh.

“A lot, it has everything to with this conversation we’re about to have,” Chris informed her, taking in a deep breath before finally blurting out what was really on his mind. “Because I’m in love with you.”

His words hung in the air between them as Madeline sat in stunned silence.

She’d wanted to hear those words for so long. She’d spent so many years wishing for it to happen and spent countless hours daydreaming about it, but now it was happening she was so shocked that all she could do was stare at him with her jaw hanging open. There was a flicker of excitement somewhere deep in her stomach, but she’d managed to get herself so convinced that it was an impossible reality that the doubts immediately crept in and her blood ran cold.

“Is this a prank?”

The anxious look of anticipation on Chris’ face shifted into one of shock.

“What?”

“Did Scott put you up to this?” Madeline questioned. “Because it’s not funny, Chris.”

As the potential humiliation hung above her, Madeline felt tears well up in her eyes. Chris must have noticed them too as he suddenly moved from where he’d seemed to be frozen in place and rushed to sit beside her.

“No, I promise that’s not what’s going on,” he assured her. “I haven’t told anyone about this, I didn’t wanna tell anyone until I know if you’re gonna turn me down or not.”

Suddenly unable to meet his eye, Madeline looked down at her lap as she nodded her head, needing a moment to process what he’d just told her.

It felt unbelievable. She couldn’t help but wonder if she was dreaming. Or if maybe she’d slipped on her way to the door to let him in and she was currently hallucinating due to a head injury. Because both of those theories seemed more realistic than the thought of him actually confessing his love for her.

However, as he slid his hand over to rest it on top of hers, the warmth of his touch had her unable to deny it was real. She hesitated - still uneasy and worried that she’d misunderstood - but as she thought back to the look of tortured apprehension on his face as he announced his love, she knew there was merit to what he was saying.

As she took a moment to steady herself, she flipped her hand to press her palm against his and relished the strange yet comforting feeling of their interlaced fingers before lifting her gaze to meet his.

“I’d never turn you down,” she admitted, the shake in her voice giving away her nerves. “Because I feel the same way.”

His eyes widened and she imagined that the expression of shock on his face probably mirrored her initial reaction as it looked as if he hadn’t expected her to reciprocate her feelings.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Madeline nodded, the corners of her lips lifting into a smile as the reality of the situation began to sink in. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time. A really, really long time.”

The sound that fell from Chris’ lips after hearing those words could only be described as a giggle and he hung his head for a moment before collapsing back against the cushions behind him. The anxiety he’d felt when he entered her apartment had clearly shifted into relief and his hand slipped out of Madeline’s grasp as he lifted it to rub his face before flashing her a grin.

“Oh, man,” he chuckled. “I really thought you were gonna laugh me right out of here.”

Madeline shook her head, almost offended by that assumption.

“No way. Even if I didn’t feel the same way, I would never have laughed at you or let it come between us.”

“Yeah?” Chris smirked. “So why did you never mention how you felt?”

The question earned a laugh and a shrug of Madeline’s shoulders as she knew the point he was trying to make.

“Because I was worried you would laugh at me and it would ruin our friendship,” she admitted. “But you never gave me even a hint of a sign!”

“Neither did you,” Chris pointed out. “But I really only had this epiphany a few weeks ago on your opening night. If you’ve felt like this for a while, I dunno how you’ve handled it because I felt like I was gonna explode tryin’ to keep it in.”

“Yeah, I noticed from the way you just barged into my apartment like you were about to tell me you murdered somebody or something,” Madeline teased, but as Chris chuckled and the sound caused a familiar fluttering in her heart, it also had the knots tightening back up in her stomach. “So, where do we go from here?”

“Well,” Chris shrugged. “I’d really like to take you on a date.”

The ear to ear grin that his suggestion put on her face had Madeline’s cheeks starting to ache in the best possible way and she wondered if she should pinch herself to make sure that she wasn’t dreaming.

“I’d really like that too.”

“Tonight? Do you have any rehearsals?”

“No, I don’t. I’m free tonight.”

“Perfect,” Chris nodded, as he quickly pulled himself off of the couch until he was standing in front of her. “I’ve gotta go check in and all that, but I’ll pick you up around six?”

Madeline nodded as Chris held out a hand to help her to her feet before pulling her in his arms. The energy between them was still a little uncertain as both of them tried to get their minds around the revelation that they’d had, but they took a moment to enjoy the calm they felt as they stood wrapped up in each other’s embrace. However, much sooner than Madeline would have liked, Chris dragged himself away and with the same chaotic, hurricane inspired energy that he’d entered her apartment with, he shouted a goodbye and disappeared as fast as he’d arrived.

Madeline spent the rest of the afternoon in a daze.

She’d felt almost giddy when Chris had left, but the more time that passed the more her doubts began to take over again. She couldn’t shake the thought that somehow she might have misunderstood him. That she would open the door to greet him later just to find out that she’d gotten it wrong and he hadn’t meant what he’d said. That still made more sense to her than the fact that after the years of pining away for him, she was finally getting what she’d always wanted.

It didn’t help that she was going through the turmoil alone.

She’d debated calling Scott for some kind of explanation or guidance, but if Chris was telling the truth about keeping his feelings to himself then she didn’t want to be the one to break the news. She also debated calling her mother, but she knew that there were no secrets between her and Chris’ mom and she didn’t want the news to spread before they’d had more time to figure out what was going on. So, she persevered with nothing but her own thoughts and tried not to let her anxiety ruin the moment that she’d been waiting for since she was old enough to realize the depth of her feelings for Chris.

By the time he buzzed her apartment and she was headed downstairs to meet him, she was shaking with nerves. However, the comforting familiarity of the smile on his face as she walked out of her apartment building’s lobby helped put her at ease.

“Hi,” he greeted her, pushing away from the wall he’d been leaning on as soon as he saw her. “Wow, you look amazing.”

His words filled her with relief as she’d spent more time than she wanted to admit agonizing over her outfit. She’d been tempted to message him to find out more about their plans, but her fear that he’d come to his senses and cancel completely stopped her from picking up the phone. She’d eventually settled on a short white dress paired with sneakers to keep it casual and a light coat to keep her warm in the evening spring air.

“Thanks,” she matched his smile. “I wasn’t sure where we’d be going so I was worried that I’d be overdressed.”

“No, definitely not. You look great.”

There was an air of awkwardness between them that Madeline wasn’t used to with Chris, but the edge of nervousness in his voice had her relieved that she wasn’t the only one thrown off by their new dynamic. Desperately trying to remember how she used to act around him, she slid her hands into the pockets of her jacket as she fidgeted under his gaze.

“So, where are we going?”

Her question seemed to snap Chris into action as his eyes left her outfit and lifted to meet hers.

“How does Italian sound?” He asked. “I made us a reservation, but if you’re in the mood for something else then I can think of something else.”

“Italian sounds perfect,” Madeline assured him. “Can we walk or should we get a cab?”

“We can walk,” Chris shrugged. “Shouldn’t take long, if you don’t mind.”

It was strange how - despite knowing each other their entire lives - their earlier conversation had suddenly left them with the social skills of two people meeting for the first time.

Madeline was used to Chris showing up at her apartment and demanding that she accompany him to whatever restaurant he’d been missing while he was out of town. He always made her walk regardless of how many hours she’d spent dancing that day or how sore her muscles were and she usually complained the entire time - whether it was three blocks or ten - and made fun of him for being too cheap for a cab despite his new life as a Hollywood superstar.

Now, they seemed to be walking on eggshells around each other. Madeline was determined to break the ice, but she cringed at the first question that came out of her mouth as they made their way down the sidewalk.

“It’s really warm today, isn’t it?”

They were far beyond talking about the weather, but Madeline couldn’t think of anything else to say that wasn’t a long rambled list of questions about how or why he’d suddenly decided he was in love with her.

“Is it?” Chris smiled. “After being in L.A. for the last few weeks, it feels like it’s freezing here.”

“I forgot that you’re a California boy now,” Madeline teased. “But compared to a couple of weeks ago, it’s really warm here now.”

“That’s the nice thing about coming back to the East coast,” Chris mused. “I prefer somewhere with actual seasons.”

“Me too. I couldn’t live in L.A. with its endless summer.” Madeline’s observation didn’t draw much of a response from Chris and her stomach started churning as a silence fell between them. They made it another block before Madeline couldn’t take the awkwardness any longer and blurted out another question. “Chris, this is weird, isn’t it?”

Biting her lip, she looked up at him and braced for him to breathe a sigh of relief, agree with her and take back everything he’d said, but his response was far different than she anticipated. His eyes widening in surprise, he quickly shook his head.

“No, no, it’s not!” His insistence felt forced and untrue and a sigh fell from his lips. “Okay, it’s a little weird, I’m sorry. I just really didn’t expect today to go the way that it did, I didn’t think this far ahead.”

Madeline knew that Chris wasn’t always as confident and self-assured as the persona that he tried to present to the world, but his shyness in that moment tugged at her heart. They were in it together now - both of them had said things that couldn’t easily be taken back - and they had to muddle through the mess they’d created as a team. Their walking had slowed when she’d put forth the question, but feeling a sudden rush of courage, she slipped her hand into his.

“I wasn’t expecting any of this to happen today so I’m definitely a little shocked by it all,” she admitted as they settled back into their pace. “But I think we just need to relax. We’re just hanging out, right?”

The fact that their hands were now clasped as Madeline leaned against his arm made it clear that it was a little more than that, but she felt Chris’ shoulders drop as his tension eased and he squeezed her hand as he nodded his head.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he agreed. “Sorry, I’m just tryin’ to quiet all the noise in my brain.”

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Madeline assured him. “Trust me, I get it. I spent most of the afternoon trying to convince myself that I hadn’t hallucinated our entire conversation.”

She heard a soft chuckle slip from Chris’ lips and the sound had her unable to hold back a smile.

“I don’t blame you for that one, it was a little more chaotic than I’d planned on it being.”

“Oh, really? Did you have some big romantic plan?”

“Nah, I didn’t really have any plan at all,” he admitted. “Every time I tried to think about what I would say I got so nervous that I didn't think I’d be able to do it at all, but I thought even if I was just winging it I would have been able to come up with something better than what I did.”

“To be honest, I don’t think it would have mattered how you told me. I would have been shocked either way,” Madeline admitted, hoping that a reminder of her own confession would put him at ease. “I really have felt the same way about you for almost as long as I can remember, but I never thought you’d think of me that way.”

Chris led her around a corner and onto another street as he glanced down at her, his eyes skimming over her face as if he was searching for any sign of a lie.

“I can’t wrap my head around that,” Chris mused. “It never crossed my mind that you might already feel the same, I thought I’d have to convince you to give me a chance.”

“I guess I got a little too good at hiding how I feel, but I never wanted to make you uncomfortable.”

“Well, that’s much more respectable than my strategy,” Chris commended her. “Bursting into your apartment on the edge of a panic attack and practically screaming it at you could have definitely made things uncomfortable.”

“I dunno, I’m pretty used to your dramatics by now,” Madeline teased. “And one of us had to take the plunge so I’m glad that you told me despite the slightly insane delivery.”

There was a smile on her face as she spoke, but as Chris chuckled and led her around another corner with the assurance that they were almost there, her smile faltered slightly.

“Chris, I only know one Italian restaurant on this street and it’s way out of my price range.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Chris shrugged. “I asked you out, it’s on me.”

“It does matter though,” she insisted. “Captain America isn’t out yet, it might be a total flop and I don’t want you to be in debt because you took me out to dinner.”

She tried to keep her tone light and teasing, but she couldn’t deny the twinge of guilt in her stomach. Her promotion had come with a decent pay rise, but being a ballerina hadn’t always been a particularly lucrative career and living in New York had always been expensive. Restaurants like the one they were walking towards were not somewhere she would usually even consider dining and she didn’t want Chris to waste his money just to impress her.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” His words were laced with sarcasm as he bumped his hip against hers. “But even if Captain America flops, I can afford one dinner here - especially if it means making a good impression on you.”

He shot her a wink that had her cheeks heating up and silenced her protests as he opened the door to the restaurant. She watched as he discreetly gave his name and followed him as he was led to a table near the back, choosing to sit with his back to the door to hide his identity if anyone happened to notice them. From her seat, Madeline had a good view of the place and - food aside - she could see why it was as expensive as it was. With the exquisite decor and impeccably dressed waiters, she knew it wasn’t the type of place that they usually went to and while it was unnecessary, she was touched that Chris was putting in so much effort to make it special.

Chris ordered a bottle of red wine for them to share and Madeline glanced over the menu, trying her best to ignore the prices. She didn’t want any further protests about the cost to be taken as doubt of his financial security and when the waiter returned with their wine and to take their orders, she picked a pasta dish in the middle of the price range to avoid the argument that she knew would ensue if she went for the cheaper option of a salad.

When they were finally alone once again, Chris raised his glass.

“Cheers,” he smiled, waiting for Madeline to copy his action with a smile of her own. “To new beginnings.”

Clinking their glasses together as they toasted before taking a sip, Madeline let the rich, full-bodied wine float on her tongue for a moment before letting his words segue her into the question that had been on her mind all afternoon.

“Speaking of new beginnings, we’ve established that I’ve been pining away for you for a long time,” she started. “But you said you had an epiphany just a few weeks ago so I guess I’m just wondering what sparked that?”

“I don’t really know,” Chris admitted. “It just hit me when I was watching you dance. I think I’ve been in love with you for a long time, but I was too stupid to see it.”

“You’re not stupid, it’s a complicated situation.”

“Yeah, but you’ve always been super important to me,” Chris continued. “I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting to figure it all out and things were different between us even when we were kids. I was always making sure that Ma invited you to everything we did because I just felt this need to be around you and it hasn’t ever gone away. I think about you all the time and you’re always at the top of my list of people I want to see. I can’t believe it took me so long to figure out why.”

He looked a little sheepish as he finished talking, but his words had Madeline feeling so full of love that she thought her heart might burst.

“I’ve always known we had something special,” Madeline agreed, reaching out to rest her hand on his where it rested on the table. “I think that’s why I was too scared to tell you how I felt in case it ruined our friendship. I was so worried that you’d be creeped out and I’d lose you forever and being your friend seemed better than nothing.”

“That’s not gonna happen,” he assured her. “Even if this doesn’t work out, I think we can be mature enough to stay friends.”

“I hope so,” Madeline smiled. “Because you’re, like, my safety blanket. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Chris nodded, but as he flipped his hand to intertwine their fingers again as they had earlier that day, Madeline noticed a worried look had crossed his face.

“I have to leave soon though,” he reminded her. “I’d love to stay longer, but I’m leaving at the end of the week to start filming.”

“I know, but that’s okay,” Madeline shrugged. “I’ll miss you like I always do, but maybe I can come and visit you? May and June are a little busy for me, but I could probably come for a weekend and after our June performances wrap up then I’ll be free for at least six weeks.”

She’d already thought about it as she was getting ready for their date, but a blush rose on her cheeks as she realized how eager sounded. Chris, however, didn’t seem to notice as her words softened the anxious tension in his jaw.

“Great, that sounds perfect. I’ll check my filming schedule and we can make some plans, I might be able to sneak back here for a few days too.”

It was comforting to know that Chris was as desperate to stay connected as she was, but the way his brow stayed furrowed as if he was deep in thought told Madeline there was more he wanted to say. She rubbed her thumb against his skin and waited to see if he would come clean, but after a few more moments of silence she tentatively prompted him to open up.

“You look worried.”

He seemed a little caught off guard by her observation, but after another moment of thought he let out a sigh.

“I guess I am,” he admitted. “You know how anxious I was about taking on the role of Captain America and a lot of that was because of some of the less positive ways such a big role could change my life. If we give this a shot then you’ll be dragged into it all too.”

Madeline felt a pang of relief that his concern wasn’t due to any second thoughts and shrugged her shoulders.

“I don’t care about that. I’ve already kinda been dragged into it with the fans you have now. They’re always curious about who I am or fishing for information because they assume we have some kind of history together. I can handle it.”

“But it could get a lot worse so I get it if you want to take some time to think it over.”

“I don’t,” Madeline insisted, her voice firm and leaving no room for him to argue. “I don’t need any time to think this over, I’ve been thinking it over for years. If you want this then so do I.”

“I do want it,” Chris assured her, squeezing her hand. “But if it gets too much at any point, you’ve gotta tell me.”

Madeline nodded and promised she would, but she was relieved to see their food arriving at the table and used the interruption to transition the conversation to things that made Chris look less stressed.

They talked about how excited he was to get back to work, she gushed about how thrilled she was to complete her first set of performances as a principal dancer, they chatted about their families and what everyone was up to and by the time they were done eating the awkward tension that had hung around them at the start of the date had vanished completely. Time flew by as they were wrapped up in each other as it always did when they were together and it wasn’t until they were walking with their arms linked back to Madeline’s apartment when they broached the subject of what would happen next.

“Thank you for dinner,” Madeline murmured, leaning against him for warmth in the cool evening air. “I appreciate you taking me somewhere so nice, but I hope you know me well enough to know that I don’t need fancy restaurants to impress me.”

“I know,” Chris nodded. “I just wanted to do something kinda special to mark the moment.”

“That’s really sweet,” Madeline smiled, feeling a twinge of nervousness as she forced the next words out of her mouth. “I found a really cute place the other day that’s a little more our style so maybe I can plan our next date?”

“Sure, how about tomorrow?"

His question had the breath she’d been holding - braced for the rejection that she couldn’t shake away her fear of - puffing from her lips with a laugh.

“Tomorrow?” She giggled. “Aren’t you supposed to play it cool and wait at least three days to text me again?”

“I think we’re a little past that,” Chris chuckled. “And we’ve gotta make up for lost time so I’m free tomorrow if you are.”

His eagerness was encouraging and considering he had to leave at the end of the week, Madeline was happy to make the most of the time they had.

“I have training tomorrow night,” she informed him. “But I’m free in the afternoon if you’re okay with a lunch date.”

“Absolutely,” he agreed with no hesitation. “I have no plans for most of the time I’m here so I’ll take as much time with you as you’re willing to give me.”

The sincerity in his voice had Madeline melting with relief as she felt the same way. Their new situation still felt so precarious - as if it could all be taken away any minute as fast as it had happened - and she felt the urge to stay close to him even more than she usually did.

“Perfect,” Madeline smiled as they reached her apartment building and their goodbye loomed over them. “The place is close to the dance studio, but I’ll text you the address in the morning.”

She slipped her arm away from his to reach into her purse for her keys and couldn’t help but wonder how the night would end. She was hoping desperately for a goodnight kiss, but as she lingered by the door waiting for him to make a move, she quickly began to lose hope.

“Well, thanks again,” she smiled, feeling the earlier awkwardness creeping back in. “I had a really nice time.”

Chris flashed her a smile of his own and she felt her heartbeat pick up speed as he moved closer towards her. She was sure that it was the moment she’d been waiting for, but disappointment washed over her like an icy cold wave as he murmured a soft ‘me too’ and pulled her into his arms for a hug.

By the time Madeline got to the dance studio the following evening, she was feeling disheartened.

She’d had another wonderful date with Chris and everything seemed to be going well, but he’d left her at the door of the studio with nothing but a hug once again. Other than the new addition of handholding, the shift in their relationship really wasn’t that noticeable and Madeline couldn't help but wonder why - if he was in love with her - he wouldn’t be as desperate for more as she was.

Her heart felt heavy in her chest as she went through the motions of changing from her date clothes into something more appropriate for the hours of dance ahead of her and she was relieved that she’d be able to bury herself into something that always helped clear her mind. Nothing helped her escape her problems like going through the familiar motions of ballet until her muscles were burning with exhaustion.

However, the deep sigh that fell from her lips as she pushed open the door to the studio she’d be training in that night hindered her attempts to run away from her troubles as it drew the attention of her friend.

“Hey,” Heidi called over from where she was stretching across the room. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Madeline nodded, walking over to join her in front of the mirror. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

It was a simple question, but it left Madeline feeling very conflicted. She felt like she was in desperate need of advice and keeping Chris’ confession to herself for the last twenty-fours had been a struggle, but she also didn’t want to share the news if it was all about to crumble out from underneath her. She debated her options for a brief moment before the clear concern on Heidi’s face won her over and she began to spill her tale of woe.

“I’m okay,” she assured her. “But I went on a date today, and last night.”

Heidi bit back a smile as Madeline’s vague explanation had her raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, that totally explains why you look like someone just ruined your life.” Her tone was sarcastic, but Madeline wasn’t entirely sure she was wrong. “Who was your date with?”

“My friend Chris.”

There was a moment of silence as Heidi gave Madeline a very suspicious look before posing another question.

“Your friend Chris? The one that most people know as the actor Chris Evans?”

“Yep, that’s the one.”

“Oh my god, Maddie! Good for you, he’s seriously hot!” The enthusiasm in her response had a reluctant smile sliding onto Madeline’s face despite the turmoil she was feeling. “But I still don’t understand why that news has you looking so sad…”

“It’s gonna sound so stupid when I say it out loud,” Madeline warned her. “You’ll think I'm an idiot.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

Madeline bit her lip as she leaned into the stretch she was doing, hoping to hide the rising blush in her cheeks.

“Because he hasn’t kissed me yet.” She blurted out her explanation, but quickly followed it up with a rundown of how their dates had come to be to give Heidi a little more context before she got to the root of what was bothering her. “It just feels like nothing has really changed. Our dates were nice, but nothing we didn’t do as friends other than a little extra hand holding. It seems weird.”

Taking a moment to take it all in, Heidi nodded understandingly until she lifted her shoulders in a shrug.

“Maybe he just wants to take it slow? You know, maybe he doesn’t want to make any big moves and really cross that line until he’s really sure that he’s figured out his feelings.”

“I think that’s what I’m worried about,” Madeline admitted. “He sounded so sure of himself when he told me how he was feeling, but he did say he only realized a few weeks ago so now I feel like he’s changed his mind after spending time with me.”

“I bet that’s not the problem,” Heidi insisted. “It’s not like he’s never spent time with you before, he already knows you pretty well.”

“Exactly, what else would he need to figure out?”

“I don’t know, but it’s a big step to cross that line and really become more than just friends. He could be following your lead and waiting for you to make a move.”

As the idea had Madeline’s stomach twisting in knots, her brow furrowed with displeasure.

“Why would he do that?”

“Well, he already put himself out there by sharing his feelings in the first place, right? Maybe he’s waiting for you to make the next move to show that you’re really on the same page.”

“But I’ve already told him that we’re on the same page and that I’ve been in love with him for years.”

“Yeah, but showing is different to telling,” Heidi pointed out. “When are you seeing him again?”

“Tomorrow,” Madeline sighed. “And probably on Friday too, but he leaves Friday night to start working on his next movie.”

“Okay, so when you see him tomorrow why don’t you kiss him and see what happens?”

Again, just the thought of being so bold had Madeline almost overwhelmed by anxiety.

“Because, what if I try and he just pushes me away.”

“I have a pretty good feeling that he won’t, but if he does then at least you have your answer,” Heidi shrugged. “Then he’ll leave to go back to work and by the time you see him again the dust will have settled and you can pretend it all never happened.”

Madeline swallowed hard as she blinked back the tears that were suddenly swimming in her eyes. It felt like an all too real possibility and she wasn’t sure it was something she could handle.

“That would break my heart,” she admitted. “I love him so much.”

“I know, sweetheart, and if it happens I’ll be here for you,” Heidi assured her, pulling her into a hug. “But that’s, like, the worst case scenario. I’m almost a thousand percent sure that he’ll be all over you once you give him the green light.”

Her confidence in that statement pulled a giggled from Madeline as she felt some of her tension ease. It did seem a little unlikely that Chris would have changed his mind so quickly after he seemed so sincere when he told her how he felt. Their dates had gone well - there were no major hiccups or issues that should have made him backtrack - and the fact that Heidi didn’t seem to think she should give up and run away had her feeling slightly less hopeless than she had when she’d arrived in the studio.

Once her feeling of dread had been dampened and the other dancers arrived, Madeline let herself get lost in their training. She pushed herself until there was no room in her mind to think about anything other than the task at hand and the time away from her thoughts left her with much more clarity. Heidi was right. She needed to have a little faith in Chris’ feelings, but making a move and being rejected was better than letting him leave town with everything still feeling so uncertain.

Heading back out the door of the dance studio, she felt far more centered than she had when she’d arrived and she had a fierce determination to end her date with Chris the next day with more than just a hug.

Staring at the woman across the table from him, Chris felt like a complete idiot.

He couldn’t believe how blind he’d been for so many years or how it was possible that he hadn’t realized what had been right in front of him for his entire life. Every smile, every giggle, every happy sigh that fell from her lips had his heart fluttering in his chest and it left him stunned that he hadn’t let himself fully appreciate all the warmth and joy she brought to his life. She’d been with him through the tough times when he struggled in auditions and felt like his career was going nowhere, she’d been there for his parents’ divorce when his whole idea of his perfect family was shattered, she’d always been a source of calm when his anxiety reared its ugly head. She was the person he went to when he needed to feel safe. She understood him better than almost anyone outside of his family. He really couldn’t believe that it had taken him so long to understand the depth of his feelings for her.

He was also still scratching his head about how he got lucky enough for her to feel the same way. He thought there were two options when he got to her apartment earlier that week - she would either completely reject him and want nothing to do with his newly discovered feelings or be neutral and willing to be convinced - but he didn’t even entertain the idea that his admission would be met by Madeline’s own confession of love. She was funny, kind, intelligent, feisty and absolutely gorgeous. She was passionate about her goals and dedicated enough to be achieving some of her biggest dreams before she was even thirty. He had no idea what he’d done to be worthy of her love, but he was grateful to have it and willing to do anything to show her that she wasn’t making a mistake by giving him a shot.

Because he was completely head over heels for her.

Everything about her seemed to stoke the new fire that was burning inside him and her flirtatious mood was driving him wild. Maybe it was the cocktails she was sipping on or just the comfort they’d slipped into after their first couple of dates, but she couldn’t seem to keep her hands to herself. They’d always had a very physical relationship - all their time spent together as kids had shattered some of the spatial boundaries that many adult friendships had - but there was something different about it after what they’d both shared and the way she kept rubbing her foot against his leg under the table was proving to be very distracting.

However, her tactile mood did put him at ease. He’d been dying to kiss her since the moment he’d stormed into her apartment, but he was worried about pushing her too far too fast. He knew it was quite a bomb that he’d dropped by announcing his feelings so out of the blue and he didn’t want to overwhelm her. The lingering fear of rejection was also a contributing factor because it had taken more courage than he thought he had to confess how he felt and if Madeline had just been swept up in the moment, but turned him down when he really tried to make a move then he wasn’t sure he could handle the pain that would cause him.

He knew he needed to seal the deal before he left - especially since he didn’t know exactly when he would see her again - and the affection she was showing him was giving him the confidence he needed to finally cross that line.

It wasn’t until they were walking back towards Madeline’s apartment that Chris felt the nerves begin to creep back in. He’d been so close to breaking through that last line between friendship and more when he’d dropped her off at the dance studio the day before, but he’d chickened out at the last minute. He was determined not to make the same mistake again, but he could feel the anxious thoughts creeping into his mind.

“So,” Madeline interrupted his thoughts as they turned onto her block, arms linked once again. “What time is your flight tomorrow?”

“Late afternoon, I think.” Chris sighed as the thought of leaving her now had him feeling quite morose. “But we could get breakfast if you’re not dancing?”

“No, I’ll be dancing in the afternoon so that’s perfect.”

The way she squeezed his arm a little tighter as she spoke had him looking down at her to see her gazing right back up at him.

“What?” He asked, a soft smile sliding onto his face.

“I don’t want you to go…” Her words were soft and her eyes widened as they slipped out of her mouth as if she hadn’t meant to say them out loud. “I mean, I’m so happy for you and excited that you get to work on such a big project, but I wish you’d be closer.”

“Me too,” Chris agreed. “But we’ll make it work.”

“But they film lots of movies in New York, I don’t understand why they can’t just film it all here instead.”

The pout that slid onto her face earned a chuckle from Chris as they stopped outside her building.

“I dunno either, but I don’t think I have quite enough sway yet to get them to change it for me.”

“Can’t have the Avengers without Captain America,” Madeline pointed out. “I think it’s worth a shot.”

She slipped away from him to dig through her purse for her keys and Chris immediately missed the warmth of her body against his. As their goodbye drew closer, he knew what he needed to do, but the doubts in his head were holding him back. He felt frozen where he stood with his hands in his pockets until he noticed her watching him - keys in her hand - with an expectant look on her face.

Moving closer, he slipped his arms around her as he had at the end of their previous dates and he felt her tense slightly before she lifted her arms, wrapping them around his neck to pull him close. She felt so good, she smelt good, everything about her just made him want her more and he leaned back enough to glance down at her. It seemed the expectant look on her face had shifted into disappointment and that had Chris unsure of his next move. The hug was lingering, dragging on longer than seemed reasonable and he knew he had to act quickly, but in his panic his insecurities took hold and he felt his earlier bravery slipping away.

He dipped his head, aiming to press a kiss against her cheek, but a shift of her head had him catching the corner of her lips instead. Even that was enough to have his heart racing, but as he tried to pull away, he felt Madeline’s hand on the back of his neck holding him in place.

“Please…”

It was hardly more than a whimper, but Chris knew what she was asking for and the simple word filled him with courage. He needed no further prompting to lean back in and press his lips against hers and her immediate response pushed any doubt from his mind.

Feeling a spark seemed like such a cliche, but it was really the only way Chris could think to describe the moment. The rush of love and desire he felt had his grip tightening on her waist as her hand slid up to his hair as if both of them were desperate to be as close to each other as physically possible. He felt consumed by her like he would crumble if she ever pulled herself out of his arms and when she broke the kiss to catch a much needed breath the sight of her slightly swollen lips had him unable to resist diving back in for more.

Neither of them were sure how much time had passed as they stood on the doorstep of her building completely lost in each other. The need to stay connected had them both too wound up to even think of walking away, but as Chris struggled to find the willpower to force out a ‘goodnight’, Madeline had another suggestion.

“Do you wanna stay here?” She asked as she fought to catch her breath. “If we’re meeting up in the morning anyway you may as well save yourself a cab ride.”

Her reasoning had a smirk sliding onto Chris’ face, but he was too relieved by the offer to make fun of her ulterior motives.

“I like the way you think. I’d love to stay.”

Madeline flashed him a grin before stealing another quick kiss and slipping out of his arms. She found her keys on the ground where they’d slipped from her hands in their frenzy and hurried to unlock the door, leading him through the hallways until they reached her apartment where they spent the rest of the night exploring all the things they’d missed out on in the years they’d wasted pretending to be just friends.

Tags: @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @flowery-mess @flowerjewels@hockeychick10 @partypoison00 @theladybiers @sidepieces @patzammit @sparkledfirecracker @mytbel0st @denisemarieangelina @elrw24 @findthebeautyinbreakdowns @trottae17 @annvail @rach2602 @sarahdonald87 @firephotogrl74 @ourfinest-hour @k-evans-writes

#chris evans #chris evans fic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fan fiction #back to you

90 notes · View notes

1d1195 · 1 year

Text

Be My Mistake II

Read the first part here: Be My Mistake

I wasn't going to do a part two but art imitates life and all that. Just something short and quick based on recent events.

“Some tea?” She asked.

Harry’s head was aching. His nose running. The stomachache made his toes hurt. Or maybe it was the body aches that made his toes hurt. It was entirely too hot in the hotel room and way too cold in his bed. “Mm,” he all but groaned.

She smiled weakly at him, ran the back of her hand along his face. It was cool and felt like heaven. Her touch always felt like heaven. “Poor baby,” she whispered softly.

“M’so in love with you,” he murmured. His adorable face was squished against the pillow. “M’so glad you’re here.”

“Me too, baby.”

They were quiet for a few moments. She had put on some soothing instrumental music. It made the room feel like a fireplace had been lit. But Harry thought maybe that was just her presence. “You have t’go,” he mumbled.

“No, Harry. M’here,” she said.

“But s’been two weeks.”

“I know.”

Harry forgot what he was saying. She asked him if he was okay again and he said he was fine enough. She left the room for a few moments. Not because he could see it—he hadn’t opened his eyes in hours. But her presence made the warm room so cold. It made him sad. Even though she was just a room away it felt like when she was back home in the loft.

He heard his mug of tea settle on the nightstand beside his head. “Missed you,” he whispered.

“I missed you too, baby.”

“M’gonna throw up,” he said softly.

Once settled back in bed she turned the lights off and kept a quiet vigil beside him. One eye was opened blearily making out her figure seated on the chair just three feet from him spread out in the bed. “M’sorry I can’t sleep with you,” he whispered. He had been insistent. Didn’t want to get her sick. Although she swore it would have been worth it.

She smiled at her phone glancing at his sleepy figure. “It’s okay, Harry. Just want you to feel better.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Kitten?”

“What do you need, baby?” She asked alertly. His heart sang. The blood in his veins felt normal. For ten seconds he was totally cured. She was there and she loved him. It would be a while before she was leaving, and she didn’t mind that he was sick. She would take care of him.

His question died on his lips. He couldn’t remember when she was so gentle and sweet to him. Nothing seemed as important as her quiet words. “I uhh…” he cleared his aching throat. “I don’t remember,” he mumbled.

She smirked and nodded. Scooching the chair closer to his bedside, she ran her fingers through his hair. It made him feel so good. There was nothing like her touch. He thought about those months and years without her. The times she told him to stop, and he didn’t listen. When she told him that she couldn’t be with him if he was going to torture himself.

This must have been hard on her. Seeing him sick like this.

But she was glad she was here. If she had left it would have made her feel worse about him sitting here alone and sad that he was sick. Running his hands through his hair, getting tea and medicine, it was important to her to be here and take care of him. He wondered if she was mad about missing work—she wasn’t—because that was the whole arrangement. It was why he was surprised she was staying, even if the delirious part of his brain couldn’t make sense of it. He was just glad she was there.

“Kitten,” he whispered. His therapist told him too that he should take time for himself—he sort of thought they were in it together. Or maybe Harry was just really so oblivious to how he treated his body and didn’t fully understand that this wasn’t normal. But the part of his brain that was still functioning kind of liked being sick. Because it was the only way he was stopping. He would have to remember that at his next session. Having her take care of him like this was also a nice plus. Not that he needed to be sick for her to take care of him—she always did things like get him tea and medicine. She took care of plants and listened to him vent and vent on days he wasn’t sick too.

The homebody she was, she liked that he was sick only for the fact he was resting—she wished he wasn’t sick because it hurt his body and he didn’t need that. She would take all his pain if she could. Harry was too good to his fans and here to be sick. If his brain was working at full capacity, he would have kicked her out so she wouldn’t get sick. He would have felt bad about her missing more work or having to work through a video call. But after coming to see him that first time, nothing mattered to her more than Harry and his well-being. She could do anything she wanted, and she would do anything for him.

“Hmm?” she hummed softly. Her fingers threaded between his limp curls.

“Thanks...fo’ not saying I told y’so.”

She sighed. “Harry.”

“S’exactly what y’said, kitten,” he murmured. “M’body is tired.”

“Harry, I would never say ‘I told you so,’ when you’re sick,” she rolled her eyes.

“I know. S’why you’re the best,” he said drearily.

It was quiet. She was mad he was sick. Overworking his body. Traveling from place to place where he was getting sicker by the day. He thought he could work through it. Letting the fumes of the tour and keeping his fans happy be the medicine he needed. She knew he felt heartbroken by not performing. Rescheduling seemed horrific to him. If he wasn’t so wildly sick, he probably would have cried more about it after alerting all of social media.

He knew she was grateful for his time off. Even if it was just a small week of time. It was more than he had willingly taken in years. He wondered if that’s why she didn’t say anything. This was a blessing to her. But she was kind enough to not say it to him. She knew it broke him to let fans down.

“They’ll understand,” she whispered softly. “When you’re up there and you’re well enough to jump around like a crazy person,” she giggled. It was music. “Hearing your voice will be worth the wait,” she promised. Her voice was a lullaby. He loved her voice so much. Her words were so lovely. She meant them too; as much as she wanted him to take it easy, she really believed they would forgive him. He wished he could kiss her. But he would be really upset if he got her sick and he couldn’t take care of her.

(And when he did get her sick a week later, when she was back home, Harry was sure to fly back for his only four days off of the month. Even though she was insistent he didn’t need to. But he couldn’t leave her by herself if he tried.)

“Kitten?”

“Yes, baby? Did you remember what you were gonna say?” She asked gently. Everything about her was so gentle. It was warm and lovely. Everything about her was perfect. It was so nice to have her, finally.

All his.

“I love you.”

Her heart melted. She loved to hear those words from his lips. She felt so special to have Harry’s affections. When his heart and mind and body were pulled in thousands of directions all the time, she was lucky to be one of them. “I love you,” she said so softly. “Go to sleep, baby. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

That was truly music to his ears.

138 notes · View notes

bibismovingcastle · 14 days

Text

MADE IN ABYSS MOVIE! REVIEW

8/10

No spoiler review:

The animation is always fantastic, the details of everything is so mesmerizing, the character design and the color makes everything perfect

The story is fantastic, I like how dark it is. The world building is so original and made me hooked to the anime more.

I can’t find myself hating on any character even the bad guy. I really enjoy everyone because everyone had their story and a certain mystery around them and I really liked it.

I found some scene unnecessary but not boring at all. The information given were not overwhelming at all so I understand almost everything.

Now the review with spoilers!

I recently finished season 1 of made in abyss and I am still traumatized! But I decided to finish the movie today after dinner and I am still devastated! Every scene broke me! Every single scene was made to hurt me! Watch made in abyss they say, it’s cute!

Where! WHERE! Where is the cuteness? I just see pain here and there.

The movie starts ok still weird things like commenting on minors private parts! But I just ignore them for my own benefit. It’s so cringe but anyway! My babies are still cute and Nanachi looks so cute and adorable as always (sorry I adopted them unwillingly)!

The first scene with the corpses made me chill and horrified! I still can’t get over the fact that it looks like a “kid” anime but then it turns so dark.

We see our main protagonists going on a journey, reg having random memories like I KNEW HE WAS RELATED TO LYZA.

Rika being our cute leader, Reg being our bodyguard and Nanachi our mascot the movie couldn’t start better.

It was going so well until I hear this aggravating voice! bondrewd!

I was so confused about the mask thing! Like he dies but then he revives and it’s all connected to his mask. STOP IT HURTS MY BRAIN!

I’m still confused so if I comment scenes but in a random orders it’s because I’m trying to remember the movie by memory! Bear with me ok?

This “papa” (sorry name too long to remember and to write) weirdo doesn’t he have something better to do? Like find some hobby! I can’t find the reason why he does all that! Like yeah I understand but I still don’t! The fact that he cares about his kids it’s emotionally draining Because you can say aww cute but then he turns them into that kind of briefcases with meat! Or into ugly experiments! But he still cares about them! You can see that at the end of the movie he turns into that thing, the “blessing” thanks to his love for his children.

Another thing that confused me is when Reg transformed in a black demon! I was like when! Why! Who! I was so confused. Can you return normal? GIVE BACK MY SON!

So maybe it’s time to talk about my other adopted kid… Prushka. Rest in piece 💀. I’m still grieving. Like she was still alive at a certain point but I think that couldn’t be called life.

It was all sad and devastating, she deserved better, she deserved to be with them in their journey. PRUSHKA YOU WILL BE REMEMBERED.

Oh and the Whistle thing. Weird concept! The fact they they are maybe by human sacrifice I am still shocked! And it was an evil touch to make prushka into a whistle!

Gory scenes were so gory. I never saw an anime that gory. And about kids that it’s the worst part. When they tortured my son reg and like you can see the flesh of his arm omg it made me sick.

Every death was so detailed! I can’t think about it anymore! Who watched it knows!

Final thing is the combat! I find it ok honestly wasn’t so much interested in it! Some scenes were confusing other I found them pretty smart. But it was cool it made the movie more interesting, and it was cool even the fact the he never dies and that he turned into a furry himself.

The final scene where Prushka before dying even after what he did to her wants to stay with him it broke my heart!

I really loved it! It surely it wasn’t as perfect as the season 1 but I liked the fact it wasn’t too overwhelming with informations. Every piece of information was given on the right time at the right moment and they were easy to understand, at least for me! The characters were so cool even the bad guy I really enjoyed his character!

#made in abyss

11 notes · View notes

prismartist · 2 months

Text

thoughts on the michael palin episode of the torchwood radio series (with very minimal knowledge of torchwood or doctor who)

yes i'm only two episodes into doctor who and no i have not seen torchwood. if you're wondering why in the world i listened to the episode anyway, the answer is simply: michael palin.

this is very welcome to nightvale "a story about you" vibes and i love it.

three things i find very amusing: 1) michael palin canonically exists in the doctor who extended universe, 2) the destructive psychic being trying to take over the world is aware of him, and 3) the destructive psychic being trying to take over the world chose to impersonate michael palin voicing an ASMR self-help tape to try and rope people into their evil plan.

(addendum: just found out that monty python is canon to doctor who and the doctor claims to have come up with the name for flying circus. that's fun!!)

(do you think aliens are fans of monty python.)

everyone is indeed bisexual, including the evil michael palin self-help voice.

jack harkness is sooo fucking hot you guys even evil michael palin can't stop talking about how hot he is.

the voice's reaction to ianto kissing jack is so funny he literally goes "oh 😳" like i can imagine his face wahdhsjdhsf.

i'm assuming the labelling of the gang as certain brain aspects is accurate to their characters? because that's fun if so. they seem cool :D

you know at first i did think it was a general "you" and thought it was funny that the writers just assume the people who are listening are most likely to be anti-social, anxious, and stressed. and well, let's just say i ended up relating a lot to Y/N,

"inability to say how she feels" "she likes biscuits" same toshiko.

jack harkness died trying to get biscuits. i'm pretty sure evil michael palin was the one who killed him and it just lured Y/N to possess it afterwards but i also like the idea that jack harkness somehow got himself fucking killed while trying to get biscuits.

there's a rift???

i'm not gonna lie for a good while i was absolutely vibing with being evil bisexual michael palin's abused henchman.

on that note oh my goddddd michael palin being angry and swearing this is so!!!!!! this is everything to me <33333 like you have no idea he's popping the fuck off and i'm more than living for it i'm ascending!!

jack harkness is so sweet oh my 🥺🥺🥺🥺 is he always like this??

the worldbuilding is so cool by the way i love the way this all works in general, the weird mind palace psychic connection stuff. i'm sure part of it is an excuse to make michael palin play jack but it works and i'm obsessed. cool supernatural stuff for the win!!!

speaking of wins it actually is so sweet listening to Y/N push through and save the world and jack praising them…… i'm so proud of them/us <3333

which makes the ending all the more DEVASTATING. good god not the tragedy DDD: nooo evil michael palin i liked hanging out with you but not for eternity in the mind torture beach DDDD:

i'm choosing to believe the warped theme at the end was the gang finding and destroying the tape because i just want my lil self-insert guy to be happy :(

anyways evil bisexual michael palin was amazing the concept is so cool i was sucked in the entire time. looking forward to watching torchwood even more now!! that episode's now a comfort media for me <3 (still has not seen torchwood).

#torchwood #torchwood audio #big finish #michael palin #prismblogging #unintelligible rants #cursing

13 notes · View notes

nehswritesstuffs · 1 year

Text

to be a captain is to be brave, to care, to love

Congrats--I’m the dumbass who posts fic for the wrong Straw Hat on another crewmate’s birthday lolol

9320 words; this hit me hard recently because, well, it just did (as in: I wrote most of this within the past few days); I have complicated emotions about Deadbeat Dad Yasopp and I guess this is my brain working through it; this does not take place in a continuity that contains Uta, mainly because I don’t really want to write her being a bratty little bully bc you know that’s what would happen; not an entire rewrite but does shift things a little bit to the left

to be a captain is to be brave, to care, to love; something very different happened on the day Banchina passed away: her son told the truth. [Usopp-centric slight AU]

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

She is dying.

That was the only thing that the doctor wrote on the paper before stuffing it in an envelope and sending it with a News Coo. That had been the week prior, and now it seemed as though the message was going to be for naught. He was sitting at the sick woman’s bedside, changing the compress on her forehead for a cool, fresh one.

“Where is Usopp?” she asked. The doctor shook his head.

“He ran off soon as I got here,” he replied, tone hiding the fact he’d told her twice already. “He’ll be back.”

“He’s such a silly boy.” She tilted her head and looked out the window at the clouds, bright and fluffy. “He has his father’s spirit.”

“Banchina…”

“No, he does; he’s going to become a wonderful person.”

The doctor sighed heavily. “I wrote to him.”

“Why…?” Her attention went back to the doctor, her eyes now sharp, all of her strength put behind them. “He was not supposed to know.”

“It doesn’t matter; he hasn’t come.”

“So you’d rather ignore the wishes of someone on their deathbed than let a free man enjoy the last moments he has at peace?” There was fire and venom in her voice, not heard by the doctor since they were young children. “It’s bad enough Usopp has had to watch me…”

“He deserves to know.”

“He deserves to be free.”

“He’s your husband; he should be here.”

“So you can torture him more?!”

“That’s not what this is and we both know it! It’s…!”

“Mom! Mom! Mom!” Usopp shouted from outside. Banchina gave one last glare before softening her face, not wanting a scowl to be how her son remembered her. “Pirates are coming! Pirates are coming up the slope!” The boy burst into the house and barreled towards his mother, tears streaming down his face. “Pirates are coming! That means that Dad’s back!”

“Usopp, sweetie, I need you to listen to me,” she said. “You’re going to have to be a good kid for me, alright? Make sure you grow into a good man, a good person, and never let them look down on you. Do you understand?”

“…but Mom…”

“I know your dad’s not there—please, don’t hate him for that. He’s very far away and can’t come back safely. It was my choice to stay here with you, and I’d do it over and over again…”

“Banchina, please…”

“I am talking to my son.” The doctor stepped towards the other side of the room at that, keeping his distance. “Please, Usopp, promise me you’re going to be brave, alright?”

“Mom…” Usopp’s tiny frame shook as he tried not to cry. “Just a little bit! Please!”

“I know what you’re doing, darling; don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

“…’China…?”

Banchina froze as her eyes went towards the door, seeing Yasopp standing in the threshold, body frozen in shock. All at once he stumbled into the house, nearly tripping over himself as he went to sit on the edge of the mattress at his wife’s side. Tears began to escape his eyes as he brought her limp, cold hand in both of his.

“I told them not to tell you,” she said, looking away in pain. “I didn’t want your last memory of me to be like this.”

“No, I’m glad I could come… I’ll take seeing you one last time while sick than never see you again at all.” His voice cracked and squeaked in pain—this was never what he had planned on when he left those years ago. “I’m so sorry… you were the only one who made this place worth it for so long…”

Banchina simply hushed him and offered the strongest smile she could. Yasopp bent down and pressed their foreheads together before kissing her gently. A sob escaped him as he pulled away, confirming to the little boy in the corner precisely what he had feared.

Banchina of Syrup Village was no more.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“So, how old are you, lad?”

“Uh… six…?”

“Oh… well, that’s a fucking bummer.”

Usopp stared at the red-haired man sitting at the table in the town’s only restaurant, who was currently involved in taking a large swig of beer. He didn’t want to be around his house at the moment, since his father and the village doctor were currently having a shouting match. The boy escaped the row by heading into town, where he saw the rest of the pirates his dad had come in with.

This one was apparently the captain.

“Everyone in town says that you’re the one that stole Dad from Mom and me,” Usopp said. The captain shrugged noncommittally—couldn’t refute that.

“What did your mom always say?”

“She said that ‘Dad left following his dream, the sea, his freedom’.”

“Then I think you should listen to your mom, kid.” The man adjusted the straw hat perched atop his head and took another drink. “You know, soon as your dad got news about your mom, we came straight here. I wouldn’t keep him from what he needs for anything.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’s my obligation, as the captain.” He paused as the waitress returned with food for the table, which he encouraged Usopp to sit and eat. “See, when you’re a captain, you need to figure out what it is that people need and how that’s different from what they want, and make it happen. Your dad always wants to travel the seas and very often needs to, but right now, what he needs is to be here.”

“You have a big crew—did they need to be here too?”

“No, but they wanted to come along, to support your dad, and it wasn’t anything that put a damper on their needs, so we all came along.” He watched as the boy’s face scrunched in thought. “It’s a lot to think about, I know. Don’t worry—you’re just a kid. You got time to figure it out.”

“What we don’t have time for is figuring out how this pit stop is going to impact our making it to the Grand Line without attracting too much attention,” said a tall, severe-faced man with dark hair. He took the smoldering cigarette from his lips and stubbed it out before beginning to eat. “We had a route, a plan, and none of it involved Yasopp’s hometown.”

“You can’t be so serious, Beck,” the captain chuckled. “We were planning on docking someplace for about a year anyhow… why not make it here?”

“…because I remember part of why it was so easy for him to leave to begin with.” He looked at the child currently nibbling on a fried chicken tender and sighed. “He really should have come here on his own and met up with us at the rendezvous point.”

“…and become a widow by himself…?”

“Minimize the impact on the locals—you know that.”

“Fuck…” It was then that Yasopp barged in the front door, looking fresh from a fight with a split lip and an impressive shiner. He found where his son was and blanched, going to his side immediately.

“You know better than to wander off on your own,” Yasopp gently chided. He removed the child from his seat and sat down, keeping his son in his lap. “We’re leaving soon as the captain is able to, okay?”

“Leaving…?” Usopp almost dropped the rest of his chicken tender. “Why…?”

“There are bad memories here,” Yasopp replied gravely. “I’m not going to make more by staying.”

“We can leave by nightfall,” the captain shrugged. He looked at the kid and raised his eyebrow. “Are you sure this is a good idea…?”

“If you grew up on a pirate ship, then I see no problem.” Yasopp picked up one of the neglected glasses of ice water and pressed the side against his black eye. “I’ll make sure to grab some things before we leave…”

“I’ll meet you at the house then, bye!” Usopp said. He wriggled out of his father’s grasp and ran out the door before any of the crew could snag him. Yasopp started to go after him, but was stopped by the captain.

“No,” the red-haired man said firmly. “He just learned he’s leaving. Let him make his peace with this place. Just because you never could doesn’t mean he can’t.”

Yasopp grumbled as he concentrated on the glass of water to his eye and grabbing a beer to occupy his other hand—captain’s orders sure were a bitch sometimes.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Usopp ran as fast as his tiny legs could take him. He ran through Syrup Village, dodging other residents, until he found a hole in a stone wall just big enough for him to shimmy through. On the other side was the expansive grounds of a mansion, which he rushed up to in order to knock on a very specific window. The little girl inside jumped in fright before running to open the pane.

“I’m leaving,” was all Usopp could get out, gasping for breath. The girl stared at him.

“What do you mean…?”

“My dad came… I’m leaving… today…”

“He what?! No way?!”

“Kaya, I’m scared!” The little boy began to shake terribly. “Dad came back, Mom died, and now we’re leaving and I don’t know when I’ll be here again!”

“…but why tell me…?”

“...because you’re the only one who’s nice to me!” He couldn’t bear to look at his friend, so instead he glared at a bit of wall as he cried. “I’ll come back to visit someday… I promise!”

“You gotta shake on it!” Kaya insisted. She stuck her hand out the window and waited for Usopp to take it, making direct eye contact. “You’re always talking about becoming a great warrior of the sea! Come back before you get too great, okay?”

“I promise!”

“Kaya? Sweetie? What’s going on in there…?”

“Usopp, run!” Kaya whispered. Her eyes were wide in not only fear, but excitement as well. “I’ll see you later, okay?!”

“Okay!”

The child sprinted off before his friend’s mother could investigate the room.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It had been an entire week and Yasopp wasn’t entirely sure what to do.

After making sure that his wife would get a proper burial and his son had everything he needed, he had returned to the ship with his six-year-old in-tow and the determination to do what Banchina would have wanted. Ever since they were young, she had encouraged him to find solace on the sea, to escape the glares and mumbled words of spite that came from the other villagers. She had always been too uneasy on the sea, and had insisted that she would be fine as he chased that freedom and acceptance he craved without her, and now… now she was gone and he had their kid, which was a bit more of an adjustment than he thought it was going to be.

Kids, for the most part, were messy creatures, and there wasn’t a lot of room for messes on a pirate ship. While Usopp didn’t have a lot of toys, he did have clutter that was liable to be underfoot, which wasn’t exactly a good idea. Limejuice had already fallen flat on his ass thanks to some marbles the boy was experimenting with, and Yasopp himself was already victim to a variety of mishaps involving the aforementioned marbles, a chemistry set that seemed to appear out of nowhere, and a slingshot armed with all sorts of things sticky and stinky.

“Thank fuck we’re almost at port,” the man grumbled. He watched as Usopp bounced around the galley in excitement at the prospect of somewhere new. Hongo nodded in commiseration, the pair both below deck due to particularly troublesome hangovers.

“Letting the kid run around on land would definitely be for the better,” Hongo said. “He needs to eat dirt.”

Yasopp turned slowly and stared at his crewmate. “What…?”

“You know—get dirty. Play with other kids.”

“I know you might have forgotten, but it’s not like the boy comes from a long line of kids everyone wants to play with. Banchina…”

“… was the only one to ever give you the time of day, I remember.” Hongo sipped at his water and grimaced at the sounds coming out of the kitchen. “Maybe some of her openness rubbed off on him?”

“If it did, then I hope the world is kinder to him for it,” Yasopp frowned. He was about to reach back into his memories when he heard Shanks’s voice from above, filled with both authority and excitement.

“LAND AHEAD! ALL HANDS ON DECK!”

“Oh! Did you hear that, Dad?! Land!” Usopp seemed to almost vibrate in anticipation. “An island!”

“I heard him, I heard him,” Yasopp grumbled. He and Hongo both knocked back the rest of their waters before depositing the mugs and heading above deck, with the small child all but dragging his father along.

A few minutes of the sea air rejuvenated Yasopp and soon he was helping out with the rigging, with Usopp standing by the prow in an effort to see where they were sailing. Shanks went up to the child and patted him on the head.

“That’s called Foosha,” he said. “We’re gonna stay there for a while, if the locals are amenable.”

“What’s that?”

“If they don’t mind that we’re pirates.” He saw that the boy’s eyes were still locked onto the small village at the island’s edge and smiled. “We need a place to operate out of—a base of sorts—in order to help build a name for ourselves.”

“Really…?”

“Yeah. Now get ready to go! You’re coming along on the first boat!”

The boy’s eyes went wide—he got to go! Important people got to go on the first boat! This was going to be great!

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

As it turned out, getting to go with the initial landing party was less exciting than Usopp imagined it would be—it was actually kind of boring. He had to stand there with his dad, Shanks, and Beckmann as the captain talked with this old man about terms of their stay and what the rules were and things like that. The boy fidgeted in place, which the village elder took notice.

“How very shrewd of you to bring him along,” the old man said. “I suppose you need a place for him to stay so he doesn’t see what you get up to?”

“Possibly, but I still take responsibility for my son,” Yasopp said, giving a short bow. “I can no longer leave him with his mother.”

“Ah.” The elder nodded knowingly. “We have a child like that here. Maybe your son will be a good influence.”

“Excuse my laughter,” Shanks snickered, “but that must be some rambunctious kid you got there if a pirate’s child is the better influence.”

“You’re just upset because Gramps didn’t take me!” shouted a tiny voice. The pirates saw a small child poking angrily around a woman’s skirt. “Maybe they’ll take me with them! Then I can finally get out of here!”

“Over my dead body, you little brat!” the elder snapped. The boy stuck his tongue out at him and the old man sighed. “The whole family is an odd bunch; it’s a long story.”

“We’re pirates—what do we care?” Shanks chuckled. He then put his hand on Usopp’s back and urged him forward. “Go play while us adults talk more boring stuff. How about it?”

The boy grinned at Usopp before coming out from behind the young woman. He launched himself at Usopp happily, wrapping him in a tight hug.

“Alright! A new friend!”

It might have been shrewd of Shanks, but it did work.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“So, you don’t have parents?”

“Nope!”

“…and it’s just you and your grandpa?”

“Yup!”

“…and he leaves you here because he’s a Marine?”

“Pretty much!”

Usopp stared at Luffy as the other boy poked at a beetle. He had spent almost the entire day wandering around with the kid and was trying to wrap his head around him, yet couldn’t. They were almost the exact same age, and yet he was being left alone? It didn’t make sense. Even when his mom died, at least his dad was there…

“What do you think he’d do if he came to town while the crew’s docked here?”

“Probably laugh and have a drink,” Luffy shrugged. “Gramps is never working when he’s here, so he doesn’t really care who does what unless it’s really bad.”

“…but we’re pirates. We’re supposed to be bad.”

“You don’t seem that bad to me.”

“Luffy, we’re six.”

“Yeah? And?”

“You really don’t get it, do you?” Usopp frowned. He looked over his shoulder and saw that more of the crew was coming into port. Even Bonk Punch seemed small from this distance. “We’re brave warriors of the sea! We fight guys like the Marines!”

“You don’t.”

“Well, yeah, not yet… but I will!” Usopp stood atop a rock and pointed at the sky. “It’s my dream to be a proud and brave warrior of the sea one day! Just like my dad! I’ll even have a crew under my care!”

“Maybe.”

“What do you mean ‘maybe’?!”

“You might be part of my crew!”

“Your crew?!”

“Yeah! If you’re gonna be like your dad, you’re gonna need a captain. You’ll need a Shanks! I can do that!”

“Then you’d have to fight your grandpa!”

“Oh, that’s just what we always do.” Luffy grinned and held up the beetle. “Isn’t this cool?!”

“It is…” Usopp agreed. The boys marveled over the bug for a moment before Makino popped her head out the back of her bar, calling them in to wash up. “Is she, like, your sister? She’s not your mom.”

“I guess? I dunno. She feeds me and makes sure I’m okay. Is that what sisters do?”

“It’s what my mom did for me, but I guess a sister can too.”

The boys piled into the back kitchen and went directly to the sink. “Makino? Are you my mom or my sister?”

“Luffy!”

“He’s alright, Usopp,” the woman laughed. “Now, are your hands clean?” Both finished washing their hands quickly and showed her for inspection. “Good, now your dinner’s at the bar.”

“Alright!” Luffy cheered. He brought Usopp into the main of the bar, where the Red Hair Pirates were already beginning to settle in for an evening of partying. Two plates of food and glasses of milk sat on the bartop, where Luffy and Usopp both sat down and began eating.

“Wow! Miss Makino’s cooking is really good!” Usopp marveled. “It’s amazing!”

“Yeah!” Luffy agreed. “She’s the best!” He then chewed the food he already had stored in his cheeks thoughtfully. “That’s someone I’m going to need for my crew: a really good cook!”

“I can cook!”

“No you can’t—you’re six.”

“Yeah, and I cooked for my mom! She showed me how to make sandwiches and boil macaroni for cheese!”

“That’s not real cooking! Real cooking needs meat!”

“Boys, boys, relax,” Shanks said, coming up to the bar to grab a bottle of grog that had been left out for him. He tossed it over to Snake, who pulled the cork out with his teeth before he began drinking. “Let’s focus on the fact that you agree the lady’s cooking is superb.”

“Flattery will not get you very far here, I’m afraid,” Makino chuckled as she came out of the kitchen. She passed Shanks two plates of food, which he took with a suggestive wink. “I should rat you out to Woop Slap.”

“I do enjoy living dangerously,” he laughed, bringing the plates out to the crew. Luffy and Usopp simply stared at each other, confused.

“Don’t worry about it,” Makino chuckled. “Now finish your dinner and you can go play upstairs, okay?”

“Okay!”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The next morning, Usopp and Luffy went down the stairs to find the entirety of the Red Hair Pirates still passed out in the main area of the bar. Usopp even poked his dad, who kept on snoring—no luck.

“Come on, you,” Makino said, guiding the boy over to where she had set out food. “If you don’t eat, Luffy will finish your plate for you.”

“No! Don’t you dare!” The boy hopped onto the bar stool and began hoarking down his food, needing to smack Luffy away a couple of times in the process.

Yeah, Makino thought, this was right.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Time passed.

The Red Hair Pirates would leave Usopp in the care of Makino, returning a few weeks later with all the treasure and tales of adventure the boy and his friend could want. He would practice with his slingshot, or his chemistry set, or anything else he could while they were gone, making his dad beam with joy and pride when he told and showed him everything he accomplished.

Time passed, and the year mark crept ever-closer.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Makino let out a blood-curdling scream, the sound of which went directly into Usopp’s young bones. Both of them were standing on the edge of the harbor, watching as Shanks intimidated the Lord of the Coast with just a glare, but not after losing an arm as he went and rescued Luffy.

“Fuck! We need to get out there!” Yasopp cussed as he ran towards the pier.

“Everyone! Clean up the rest of the bandits!” Beckmann ordered. “We got this!”

“Aye, aye,” Roux said. He and the rest of the Red Hair Pirates charged at the last of Higuma’s gang, while Yasopp and Beckmann rowed out to where Shanks was treading water. This left Makino alone to sink to her knees, completely in shock, as Usopp trembled next to her.

“I told him not to make them mad…” the boy shivered. “Why didn’t he listen?!”

“I… I don’t think it would have mattered,” Makino said, her voice quiet. She looked at Usopp, her eyes glassy with tears, and held him by the shoulders. “This is not your fault.”

“…but Miss Makino, I…!”

“The only person who’s at fault is the bandit, and he’s now dead,” she insisted. She then brought him in close for a hug. “Don’t you ever think otherwise, you understand?”

“…but…!”

“I know you plan on being there for Luffy, and I need you to know that it’s not your fault, got it? Sometimes… things happen… and we can’t change it, but we can control how we act for them.”

“O… okay…”

It was then that Yasopp finished rowing back to shore, with Beckmann attempting to hold Shanks still while Luffy sobbed uncontrollably. Hongo appeared with his emergency kit, attempting to stop what was left of his captain’s arm from bleeding out right there on the dock. Yasopp threw Luffy over his shoulder and brought him to Makino, who grabbed onto him tightly.

“I thought… I thought he could…” she said unsteadily.

“He was so concentrated on saving this little guy that it was too late,” Yasopp replied. He stroked Luffy’s hair as the boy cried into Makino’s shoulder before turning his attention to his own son. Scooping up Usopp in a hug, he ignored the fact that he was currently sopping wet and covered in his captain’s blood—all he needed right now was his boy. “I’m so glad he didn’t get you too—the fact both of you are safe… it’s worth more than any treasure.”

Shanks bellowed in pain, causing all four of them to recoil. Usopp stared at the man as he writhed under Beckmann’s hold and Hongo’s attempts at treating him.

‘A captain has to know what his crew needs,’ he thought. ‘He needs to make it happen. Luffy needed to live… and he made that happen…’

There, on the little pier at the edge of the little village, the little boy in his father’s arms realized something very, very important: a captain was not a captain unless he had a crew, and once he had them, he should be prepared to do everything for them… even die for them… just like his mom died taking care of him.

A captain took care of his crew.

A crew is a captain’s greatest treasure.

The people one cared for are worth more than all the gold in the Grand Line.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It took a few days until Shanks was able to be let out of bed. Hongo and Makino took turns watching him, waiting for the fever that set in to break, hoping he hadn’t lost too much blood. Once he was up and moving, Luffy seemed to completely forget that Usopp existed, instead clinging to the man who saved his life. It made sense to the other boy, but it still didn’t mean that he wasn’t at least a bit jealous.

It was a week since what the village was officially referring to as the “Bear Incident” and the Red Hair Pirates were enjoying themselves in Party’s Bar. Usopp was sulking in a booth while eating with his father, with Monster passed out on the opposite bench seat. Yasopp looked at the pouting lad and felt his nerves messing with his stomach. Fuck… why was this so difficult? He leaned in and lowered his voice so that only his son could hear.

“Usopp…?”

“Yeah, Dad?” He put down his fork as he saw that his father’s face was sad and full of worry. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to know if you like it here.”

“I do!” the boy replied, perking up. “Makino makes good food, and the people here are really nice, and Luffy’s, like, my best friend! After Kaya of course! Why?”

“Well… because…” Yasopp exhaled heavily, not enjoying his position. “Shanks wants to move on soon.”

“Move on…? To a different island…?”

“To the Grand Line.” He scratched his son’s scalp and watched as he grew quiet. There was something criminal about the boy having his hair and complexion, but his mother’s nose. “It’s very dangerous, you know, to be on the Grand Line. It’s more dangerous than fighting the Lord of the Coast. Even people who are born and raised there can’t survive.”

“I don’t think I want to go to the Grand Line.”

“…which is why I was talking with Miss Makino earlier, and her and I think it would be better if you stayed here, in Foosha.”

“What about you…?”

Yasopp bit his lower lip and breathed in deeply, trying to keep himself composed. “I can’t stay. I’m a sailor, and the sea calls to me. It’s why I never was around before—it’s too strong for me to resist.”

“Oh… is that why everyone but Mom said bad things about you back in Syrup? Because you can’t tell the sea no?”

“Yeah… something like that.” He then let out a slight chuckle. “Besides, not only am I a sailor, but a pirate. Mister Woop Slap says pirates can’t stay here for too long, or Luffy’s grandpa might come and beat them up.”

“Luffy says that’s just what his grandpa does like normal,” Usopp deadpanned. Well, it had been worth a shot. “It’s nice when you’re gone, but it’s better when you’re here.”

“Tell you what: I’m going to let you stay here with Miss Makino, where it’s safe and you have good people around you, and in the meantime you are going to do your best to become big and strong. When you do, come to the Grand Line and find me. How does that sound?”

Usopp broke into sobs, clinging to Yasopp’s shirt. The kid was unintelligible through his tears, but his father held him in his arms and pat him on the back, soothing him best he could.

“You’re one of the best things I’ve ever done, you know that?” he crooned. “I can’t bring you to the Grand Line and let you die. Then who will I have to live for?”

“I’ll miss you so much!”

“I know… and I’ll miss you too… but you have to be brave, Usopp. Be brave for me… and be brave for your mom. Please?” His son nodded into his chest. “There’s a good lad. I’ll always be proud of you… for everything that’s happened to us in the past year, you’ve been taking it very well.”

“When are you going to leave…?”

“Tomorrow.” He offered Usopp a smile and pat his hair. “Just remember that you have to let whatever happens to you push you forward, not back.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Different people get pushed differently by the same things, so don’t compare yourself or get too worried. You’re your mother’s son—nothing is going to keep you down for long. I know it.”

Usopp wiped his nose on his arm and laughed weakly. Yeah… he guessed so.

“Until then,” Yasopp said, “let’s party! Go get some cake from Lucky Roux! Big slices! Go on!” He shoved his son from the booth and watched as he scurried across the dining area to where their large crewmate was lording over an even larger cake.

What was harder? Leaving his kind and understanding wife and a baby who didn’t know him or his son just as they were just becoming acquainted? He didn’t think he had the answer, nor did he want one.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Dawn was just beginning to break and wash Foosha Village with a lovely golden glow. The Red Hair Pirates all were asleep where they had been partying in the bar; even Usopp was curled up in his father’s side… that was… until Luffy began to shake him awake.

“Hey, Usopp! Get up!”

“What is it?” the boy asked groggily.

“I’m hungry, and no one else is awake to cook.”

“What about Miss Makino?”

“Her door’s locked.”

Usopp groaned and tried to shake his father awake—nothing. So, instead, he found a lockpick set on one of the other pirates and went up the stairs with Luffy. He worked patiently, eventually getting the door to give way. The pair went into the dark room and tugged at the blankets, rousing the sleeping adult.

“Miss Makino!” Luffy whined. “We’re hungry!”

“Oh fuck…” was the reply, except it wasn’t Makino…

“Captain…?” Usopp frowned. “What are you doing here?”

“I… uh… fell asleep talking to Miss Makino. She’ll be down in a minute.”

“…but Shanks! You’re naked!”

“I know Luffy, just… fuck… go play until Miss Makino calls for you, alright?”

The boys left the room disheartened, but also very confused. Why was the Captain in Miss Makino’s room? It took until they were outside watching the bugs hum to life in the sunrise before Usopp realized what had happened, hitting him like a ton of bricks.

Luckily for him, the scream he let out was the same he made when a bug took him by surprise, so no one awake in Foosha paid him any mind.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

After a tearful goodbye at the docks, the Red Hair Pirates sailed off without their youngest member. The boy and his friend watched until the ship could no longer be seen on the horizon, heading off to the forest afterwards to go play with bugs. They did that for a couple months, playing during the day and pretending to be pirates up in their rooms at night, until one morning, Usopp came down the stairs and saw that Luffy was not there.

“He’s gone?!”

“Yes; his grandpa came this morning and took him to the mountains,” Makino said. “We can go visit him in a couple weeks, if you’d like.”

“A couple weeks?!”

“We’re supposed to take food up to the Dadan Family around then—that’s who he’s staying with.”

“Th-th-the D-d-d-dadan Family?! Is Luffy going to be okay?!”

“Pretty sure; his grandpa wouldn’t take him there unless the thought it would be for the best.” She watched as Usopp sat down at his usual bar stool while seeming very conflicted. “I told him about you, by the way.”

“You did…?”

“I did. He likes that Luffy has a friend in you. For the meantime, it’s probably better you stay here, with me, in a place that’s not a bandit-infested forest.”

“True, true,” Usopp nodded. A plate of food was then placed before him, brightening his expression considerably.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Kaya,

It’s me, Usopp! I know we haven’t spoken in a long time, but I thought I’d write to you now that I know where I’m staying! There was enough left over in my allowance to get some paper and Coo fee, so here I am!

How are you doing? My dad left me in a different village, where people are nicer than the ones in Syrup. It’s called Foosha, and it’s in Goa Kingdom. I live with a lady named Makino—she’s really nice! You’d like her! She owns a bar and I help out sometimes. It’s the only one in town, so lots of people come by. Pirates, Marines, bounty hunters, bandits—we see them all! I’m saving the money I make so Luffy and I can sail to the Grand Line when we’re older! Maybe you can come along too?

Oh, yeah, that’s right: you’re my first best friend, but Luffy’s my second best friend. He used to live with Makino too, but now he lives in the mountains with his brothers Ace and Sabo. Luffy ate a Devil Fruit! He can stretch! It’s pretty cool, but not as cool as my shooting skills! I’m getting really good and some day, I’ll be better than my dad!

Okay, it’s time to wrap up now. It’s almost time for bed. I’ll send this in the morning.

Usopp

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Luffy! Luffy, where are you?!”

Usopp looked around the treehouse, trying to find his friend. While it wasn’t unusual for him to not be there, at the same time it felt as though something was off. The boy shuffled around in an attempt to find any of the hideout’s usual suspects and got nothing.

Huh.

Shifting his backpack, Usopp cautiously wandered the forest in search of his friend. It wasn’t really like Luffy to not be around during Supply Day, when he and Makino brought food and drinks and other things up to Curly Dadan and her bandit crew. He was getting pretty good at dodging the dangerous parts of the forest—the things that Luffy’s grandpa said would make him stronger—and was actually beginning to like the place.

Except, when he finally found Luffy, he and Ace were standing near a cliff, the younger sobbing as they watched the Grey Terminal smolder in the distance. A couple sticks tied together into a cross had been stabbed into the ground and something sickeningly familiar coiled in the pit of Usopp’s stomach.

“Luffy? Ace? Where is Sabo?”

Ace was the one to turn around first, his face more dour and serious than the other boy had ever seen. “The Celestial Dragons murdered him. They didn’t care that he was just a kid.”

“I hate them!” Luffy hissed. “I want Sabo back! We made a promise…!”

“That’s not gonna help!” Usopp snapped. He then gasped, shocked at his own outburst, and softened his tone. “Wanting a dead person to come back isn’t going to do anything, like when my mom died. You have to be brave…” He then looked down at his hands—chapped from experiments with his chemistry set and wiping tables at the bar—and began picking at his fingers. “You have to let it push you forward.”

“Smart,” Ace nodded. He watched as Usopp pulled some food from his backpack and offer it consolingly to Luffy. “You sure you don’t want to stay here with us? There’s an opening now and… well… Sabo did like you. He’d like you being our third.”

“I can’t replace him,” Usopp said, shaking his head. “Besides, I learn a lot in the village! I don’t want to stop learning because I’m out here fighting to survive!”

“Fair,” Ace chuckled. The smile on his face was genuine, which made Usopp feel better.

“Then you and I can go!” Luffy insisted. “Ace and Sabo were already going to leave me behind! I can be co-captains with Usopp!”

“Luffy, that’s a lot of responsibility,” Ace warned.

“Well, yeah, but I’m gonna get stronger! And stronger! And stronger! And Usopp’s gonna get smarter, and we won’t let anything beat us! We won’t let anything like what happened to Sabo happen again!”

“We’ll do our best,” Usopp agreed. “Because that’s what friends do, right?!”

“Shishishi—right!” Luffy grinned through the remainder of his tears and snack. He and Usopp clapped their hands together, sealing the deal.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was a busy afternoon in Foosha Village, with many ships at the port on their usual trade stops. In Party’s Bar, the young teenaged busboy hurried to clear tables and wipe down surfaces, moving quickly as he worked.

“I’m gonna go wash some dishes, Miss Makino,” Usopp said, presenting her with the full tub. His boss was mid-pour of some beer and nodded as she finished it off.

“Let me know when you’re done, alright?”

“Yes, ma’am!” He carried everything into the kitchen and found that the water from when he did glasses a few moments earlier was still hot. Taking advantage of that, he got right into washing dishes, not even noticing that someone else had slipped into the kitchen behind him.

“Usopp, I’m bored!” The teen nearly dropped the plate in his hands at the sound of his friend’s voice. Turning around, he saw that it was definitely his best friend and co-captain, having snuck his way in without a problem.

“Luffy, I’m working.” He put his hands on his hips and scowled. “Don’t you know what a job is?”

“Jobs are boring—let’s go have fun!”

Usopp stuck his head out the kitchen door with a scowl. “Miss Makino! Luffy’s being a bad influence!” The woman in question simply smiled as she dried a glass with an expert hand.

“You’ve been working very hard, Usopp,” she said. “I think you’ve earned a bit of time with Luffy being a bad influence. Go on.”

“…but…!”

“Go! Go!” She shooed them both out through the back, insisting she had things covered until dinner. The teens then found themselves wandering around, with Luffy eventually bringing them to sit on the cliff overlooking the harbor.

“What do you think they’re doing?” Luffy wondered, his gaze unfocused over the ocean. Usopp shrugged.

“Ace might have made it to Logue Town by now… and my dad’s in the Grand Line, so I dunno…” He looked at his friend and wondered. “Are you sure you want me to sail with you?”

“Well, yeah, of course I do,” Luffy insisted. “You’re my friend and co-captain! Like how Ace and Sabo were gonna be co-captains!”

“…except, Ace and Sabo were brothers—your brothers—and I’m just a kid who lives in town.”

“That doesn’t make it different.” Luffy then laid down, turning his face to the sky. “We’re gonna do great things once we get to the Grand Line!”

“The two of us?”

“Well, yeah, but of course we’ll have a crew first. I’m sure Shanks and your dad will laugh at us if it’s just us two in a dinghy.”

“Ha, yeah…” Usopp hugged his knees and frowned at the ocean waves. “Doesn’t mean it’s not scary.”

“Shishishi—of course it’s scary!” Luffy laughed. “That’s the whole point of adventure, isn’t it? Doing things and seeing places other people are too scared of? Being more free than anyone else out there?”

“I guess, but…”

“You worry too much, Usopp.”

“Maybe that’s because you don’t worry enough.”

“Mmm… probably. But that’s okay. We’re still the captains, and that means we’ll take care of the crew and each other. That’s what counts, right?”

“Yeah… I guess it does.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Usopp admittedly wasn’t entirely prepared for when he set out from Foosha Village with Luffy, but he didn’t think that things would be as crazy as they became.

Making a new friend while surviving a mace-wielding nutcase? Check.

Recruiting a bounty hunter to the crew so powerful he was referred to as Pirate Hunter? Check.

Letting their new friend go off to do something as insane as join the Marines?! Check.

Team up with a girl to fight against a murderous clown that could slice himself into tiny bits? There was not enough insanity Usopp could conjure to have predicted that one.

However, when the young woman said that she was a navigator, there was a single request he had for where they would go next.

“So, this is where you’re from?” Nami asked. She raised an eyebrow at the sleepy little town. Their small boats were moored by the harbor and they were now walking along the path that led into the village. “There’s not a lot to it, is there?”

“No, but it’s still important to me,” Usopp said. “Let’s go see what’s going on these days!”

“Are we going to visit Kaya?” Luffy asked. Zoro and Nami looked at each other, then Usopp.

“Who’s Kaya?” Zoro wondered.

“Oh, that’s just Usopp’s super-best friend when he lived here!” Luffy explained. Usopp began to blush, which made the other two smirk. “He only talked about her, like, all the time when we were growing up!”

“We wrote a lot after I left, so we’ve been keeping in touch.”

“Well then, let’s go meet her,” Nami grinned.

Usopp swallowed hard—that was the look of a woman on a mission, and he wasn’t entirely certain he liked said mission. The crew meeting Kaya was sort of the last thing he wanted to do at the moment. He knew it was inevitable, however, and continued to lead them into the village, where everyone stared at them with some form of curiosity or disdain.

“Some welcome wagon this is,” Zoro noted as someone closed some window shutters at the sight of them. “I’ve gotten better receptions in dive bars in my bounty hunter days.”

“Well, Dad wasn’t too popular with the village, and Mom defended him, so she wasn’t liked a lot either,” Usopp shrugged. “Before I met Luffy, I only ever had one friend…”

“…and that’s this Kaya…?” Nami finished. He shrugged—well, yeah. “Do you think she’d like to come along?”

“Probably not—she’s been sick since her parents died a couple years ago. Even if she wanted to go, she’d likely need a doctor to come along too, and I don’t think any of us are good enough at medicine for that.”

“No, I guess not,” Nami said. She then noticed that they had walked past the last house, continuing on the path. “Uh… Usopp? Where does your friend live?”

“Right outside the village,” he said. “It’s how we became friends—we both didn’t live in the main part of the village, so we were practically neighbors!”

Except the crew didn’t expect his “neighbor” to live in a literal mansion, where the door was answered by a tall butler with slicked-back black hair and eyeglasses.

“Miss Kaya is too ill to visit with the likes of you; now go away.”

“Who the hell are you, telling me Kaya’s not doing well?!” Usopp fired back. He glared at the man standing in the doorway to Kaya’s house, unsure of the aura he was giving off. “I’m the Dread Captain Usopp, and I’ve been Kaya’s best friend since we were kids!”

“I’ve never seen you before,” the man sneered. He looked over Usopp’s shoulder at the rest of the crew, who were standing a few paces back. “Now you hooligans better leave before I call the police!”

“Klahadore! Don’t!” It was then that Kaya appeared at his side, looking rather cross. She also looked extremely frail, which was a distinct change from the girl who Usopp used to climb trees and play tag with. “This is the friend I’m always writing to! It’s him!”

“Miss Kaya! You should not be up!”

“My friend is back! That’s reason enough!”

“This is a charlatan, not your friend; besides, you are in no state to receive visitors.”

“Huh…” Nami muttered. “This is more interesting than I thought.”

“I’ll say,” Zoro agreed. He glanced over at Luffy, seeing that the captain’s fist was clenched. “Oi. Let Usopp fight his own battles.”

“This guy pisses me off,” Luffy said. “Usopp lies, but not about important stuff. Kaya’s one of his most important people.”

“I don’t know if that’s up for us to determine,” Nami added.

“We’ve been writing to each other to years! I’m her friend!”

“Miss Kaya has been corresponding with a young man from the city with prospects and standing,” the butler sneered. “You look like someone with neither.”

“That’s what Mother and Father told you so that you wouldn’t worry!” Kaya said. “We knew your ship was sunk by pirates, and that’s what Usopp’s dad is, but he’s a good guy!”

“Pirates are nothing but cowards and scoundrels.”

“Mother always said that his father was unjustly blamed and his mother brave for loving him! She hated having to stand by and watch, but she remembered! They were brave and loving people!”

Usopp sucked in a breath—he never heard anyone describe his parents in such a way. If that was what Kaya was always told, then maybe… was his dad wrong about this place?

“I cannot let us waste more time with these degenerates,” the butler said.

“Klahadore, that is enough! I command you—!”

Everyone went quiet as the butler slapped Kaya across the cheek. She stared at him, eyes wide and mouth ajar. Usopp froze in shock, unable to move. Luffy made a motion to hit the guy back, but Zoro put a hand on his shoulder. Not yet.

“Now look at what you made me do,” the butler hissed. “Your parents left your care to me, and now…” He looked at his own hand in irritation, which he then turned to Usopp. “You four are not welcome here. Do not attempt to contact Miss Kaya any further. Good day.”

The door closed in Usopp’s face and the teen—still in shock—could only gape.

“What the fuck…?” he breathed. “Kaya…?” He pounded both fists on the door and screamed her name at the top of his lungs.

“Come on,” Nami said, gently pulling him from the door. “We’ll figure something out.”

“…but…!”

“She’s right; let’s go,” Luffy frowned.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was the dead of night as Usopp snuck onto the grounds of Kaya’s mansion, heading directly over to where he remembered her room was. He knocked gently on the windowpane and stepped back, waiting for her to get out of bed. Soon as she opened the window, he hugged her tightly, an act which she returned.

“I can’t believe he did that,” he whispered. He then held her at arm’s length and tried not to gasp at the sight of her in the moonlight. “Has he ever done that before?”

“No… and he’s been apologizing since,” she replied. “I… I should have told you sooner…”

“Come with us,” Usopp blurted out. “We can get you out of here, see the world…”

“You know I can’t…!”

“We’ll just get a doctor on the way; it’s a priority anyhow,” he said. Seas… had Kaya always been this pretty? “Please…”

“I’m too fragile…”

“…from staying in this room! Come with us! Let me take care of you! Don’t tell me after all you wrote that you don’t want to see what’s out there?”

“Usopp, you know I do, but…!” She was cut off by the sound of someone else in the house, just outside her door. “Quick! Hide!” Usopp was just out of sight when the butler entered the room. “Oh! Klahadore! You didn’t need to come in!”

“You didn’t answer and I was worried,” he said. “Why is the window open?”

“I was a bit warm,” she lied. “Besides, I’m a bit restless.”

“Are you thinking about that boy again?”

“My friend, even if you don’t believe me.”

“Your parents left you in my care—it would be a great dishonor to their memory if I didn’t question the boy and his intentions regarding you.”

“His intentions…? Klahadore, his intentions involve going out to sea and becoming a proud warrior. He made a promise to visit me before he did, and he tried, and you ruined it.”

“A pirate’s child turning pirate is worse than both those things put together. His blood is poisoned…”

“…only because you don’t know him. Goodnight, Klahadore. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Despondent, the butler left the room and closed the door behind him, his charge waiting to hear his footsteps down the corridor before she flung herself back at the window, seeing Usopp hugging the wall in terror.

“Give me three days,” she said. “That’s when I’ll have the opportunity to get out of here.”

The grins they shared were brighter than the moon and stars combined.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“I still don’t know why we’ve got to wait,” Zoro grumbled. He and the others were sitting up inside Usopp’s house he used to share with his mom, the night after he talked to Kaya. The co-captain poked his head out the window, checking to make sure no one else was around.

“That asshole butler of hers takes a weekly trip to the next town over to get certain groceries,” he said. “We’ll help her sneak out then and leave notes with another butler and the village leader to kick Klahadore out while she’s gone. Then the five of us can head to the Grand Line.”

“No offense, Usopp,” Nami said, “but what can she do other than weigh us down?”

“She won’t!”

“The witch has a point,” Zoro grunted. “She’s practically an invalid; you can’t take someone like that to the Grand Line and expect everything to turn out okay. Maybe if we already had a doctor…”

“Luffy, can you back me on this?” Usopp groaned. He looked over at the other teen, who had his nose in a book. “Luff, come on…”

“I was just looking at this book—it’s got pictures from before we met!” he said. Luffy brought the book over to the table and set it down, showing a photo of Yasopp, Banchina, and a baby Usopp. “That’s your mom, right?”

“Yeah,” Usopp nodded. Something tugged at his heart—it was the first time he’d seen a photo of his mom in a long while. He turned the page and found one of him and her together, from right before she got sick. “You know, I never thought about her being the brave one until Kaya said it earlier.”

“She risked begin shunned by the village by being with your dad, from what it sounded like,” Zoro shrugged. “That, if anything, takes guts.”

“It really does,” Usopp agreed. He tensed up and stared at the door—someone was coming. The four all readied themselves, only for three kids to burst into the house.

“Pirates!” they cried.

“Uh… yeah…” Nami grimaced. This was going to be tedious, wasn’t it? “We’re pirates.”

“No, not you pirates!” the kid with the glasses panicked. “You’ve not done pirate stuff!”

“Well, we’re gonna do pirate stuff if I’m gonna be King of the Pirates,” Luffy said plainly.

“No, you don’t get it: there’s pirates at the slopes!” the one with the green hat explained. “And they’re talking about killing Miss Kaya!”

“Her creepy butler is with them, and he says he wants to kill her himself!” Glasses said.

“We think they want to blame you for it!” the third boy said. “You’re pirates too, but you’re not mean! Doesn’t Miss Kaya like you?!”

“She does,” Nami said. She looked over at Usopp, who seemed absolutely terrified. “So, Co-Captain, what do you plan on doing?”

“We’re going to save Kaya!” he said, entire body shaking in nerves. Luffy and Zoro both grinned, as they knew that this meant they were going to be able to finally pick a fight.

It was on.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

When all was said and done, Usopp was sure he didn’t like cats to begin with anyhow. Adding the fact that Kaya’s asshole butler was a famous pirate captain that supposedly had been captured and executed years earlier and planned on killing her in order to get her money and retire? Definitely not one of the things he had expected when he set off from Foosha.

The butler crumpled to the ground unconscious, knocked out cold from Usopp’s Ten Ton Hammer. Kaya had been underneath him, making it so she had to avoid him falling on her. She looked up at her best friend and nearly cried.

“Usopp, I…!” Kaya gasped as he lifted her up to her feet. They looked at each other and giggled awkwardly. “Thank you.”

“A captain takes care of his crew,” he said. He then swallowed hard at the realization of what he just implied. “I mean, a pirate’s crew is their friends, and… you’ve always been my friend, and…”

With a smile, Kaya placed her finger on Usopp’s lips, silencing him. They then both leaned in and kissed one another, chastely yet by no means less exhilarating. The only thing that stopped them was hearing gagging noises—the Pintsized Pirate Patrol had found them.

“Oh, and what are you three going on about?” Usopp frowned. “Wait until you see someone so pretty you have no choice but to kiss them!”

“Adults are so gross!” Green Hat scowled.

“Uh-huh, sure,” Usopp deadpanned. He felt Kaya’s arms warp around his middle and he sighed, his arm going around her waist. “Now where’s the rope? We need to tie this creep up before he wakes up and tries to kill us all again!”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Are you sure you can’t come along?” Usopp asked. He was sitting with Kaya on the beach, watching as Luffy, Zoro, and Nami got a tour of the Going Merry. They were getting the caravel as a gift for saving the town from the Black Cat Pirates, which honestly took the entire village by surprise. The only reason they even believed the teens was the fact that Merry backed them at all, so it was his honor to present them with their reward.

“I’ve got to get better first, but I think I’m going to do something else,” she said. “I want to be a doctor.”

“That’s… very different from sailing with us,” he acknowledged. “I’m just curious… why?”

“…because one day you’re going to be dragging yourself back here and someone is going to need to patch you up,” she giggled.

“Ouch, okay, fair.” They both laughed before he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her lips. “As long as you’re going forward.”

“Yeah.” She saw how much fun the others were having with Merry and she nodded to gesture in their direction. “Come on—a captain needs to take care of his crew, right?”

“Right.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Miss Kaya, the newspaper.”

Months had gone by in Syrup Village, with Kaya making considerable improvement with both her condition and her studies. She was reading a chapter on phlebotomy over breakfast when Merry brought in the paper.

“Oh, thank you!” She took it from him appreciatively. “There’s so much happening that it’s difficult to keep up, isn’t it?”

“It can be,” he agreed. Merry watched as her brow furrowed at the front page. “What is it?”

“Usopp…” She went to the bounty poster inserts and pulled out a small pile dedicated to the Straw Hat Pirates. There was Luffy, Zoro, Nami… ah… wait… Sogeking?! “They all have bounties now.”

“Well, would you look at that; you’re right!” Merry laughed. “Declaring war on the World Government? Oh, he is going to need to get patched up next time you see him!”

Declaring war on the World Government in order to save his crewmate… he really was a brave captain after all.

#One Piece #fan fiction #Usopp #Yasopp #Banchina #Monkey D. Luffy #Red Hair Shanks #Makino #also contains #Yasopp x Banchina #Shanks x Makino #and #Usopp x Kaya #if the U in ASUL was Usopp that would be so fcking insane

35 notes · View notes