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rise-my-angel · 7 months

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Heart of the Great Wolf

Woes of a Modern Day Love

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader

Length: 21.2k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, abusive relationships, pining, male masterbation, domestic violence, unhealthy alcohol consumption, implied sexual abuse, smut, oral (f receiving), p in v

Notes: A modern!au of my main series, no knowledge of that fic is required though. Also if you thought this was going to be a fluff filled funny fic, I'm so sorry you must be new to my blog. Series Masterlist Here

Jon Snow could still recall that day as if it had just occurred. Six months had passed since then, and yet it currently felt like an utter lifetime of endless suffering. The way he knew right away as he picked up the phone that something was very wrong, how much you were trying to be quiet without crying and the swiftness in which you hung up as soon as yelling could be heard on the other end.

He had all but knocked his chair over how fast he got up before running out of the door, yelling back to Sam to tell Commander Mormont he'd apologize for leaving like this later. By his estimation as he had gotten into his car, it would take about five hours to get there if he, perhaps, didn't quite follow the speed limits. Double checking he still had something in his glove box, Jon shifted things around to prepare before leaving.

As morose of a thing it was to say, Jon had been long since preparing for it. Not a man to rub it in your face how much of a mistake he thought you had been making, but Jon did not sit idly by and wait for it all to implode leaving you stranded and alone. Jon had known this was coming since the day you had told him you were dating Karl Tanner. Not many men were known to be kicked out of the Nights Watch, but he had been one of them and Jon still could not fathom how he had convinced you to date him.

Or what he said to talk you into moving away from your friends and loved ones, to live with him five hours away.

But you were an adult, and Jon couldn't coddle you from the world. He couldn't just lock you in your room and tell you to break up with him. But he did know for a certain that when Jon had been the one originally planned to drive you there, Karl took it upon himself to pick you up instead. He knew why, giving Jon five hours alone with you was giving him five hours of time to talk you out of it.

No music played on his radio, he never bothered connecting his bluetooth, he only drove five hours in a seething silence, hand tense on the steering wheel counting down each mile remained. By the time he could see the house in the distance, you were waiting. Front door closed, you sat on the steps with your arms wrapped around your knees and a bag next to you.

The second you heard the sound of an approaching car you stood. Within the instant Jon got out of the car, he could see every sign you had been trying to hide the fact that you were previously crying but he didn't care for a second. Pulling you to him, his eyes wide and painting over with such a worry as he cupped your cheeks, “Did he hurt you?”

Jon was not convinced by the weak manner in which your tone said no. But you shook your head still barley finding the courage to grasp lightly at his waist, only a cracked whisper coming from you realizing he was still in his Nights Watch attire, that he had left the Wall to get here. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have made you-”

One hand running over the hair at the side of your head, Jon rasped gently. “No, darling. None of this is your fault.” Trailing off for a moment he glanced down to the small bag you had, no bigger then a gym bag and not even full by the looks of it. “Where's the rest of your stuff?”

Avoiding his eyes, you shook your head again, “It's fine, I just want to leave.” Jon asked far firmer that time, why you didn't have your things with you when your eyes drifted nervously to the side.

Narrowing down, grey eyes tinting down to more of a black, Jons voice grew rougher. “You had a full car worth of things,” gesturing down to the bag in your hand. “This isn't even enough for overnight.” It was the way he could tell you were biting your tongue to keep quiet that made him angry all over again. Either you were too scared to go back in and get the rest of it, or Karl wasn't letting you but either way meant he was still in the house.

Saying he'll go in, you suddenly perked up. Eyes going wide and almost trying to push him, or more, the both of you away from the door. “No, Jon, it's- it doesn't matter let's just go.” Jon persisted, one hand firmly on your upper arm keeping you in place as the other stayed on your cheek, you trying one last time. “I don't care, it isn't a big deal.”

Rasping in a soothing low voice, he assured you. “It won't take long.” But it was then he realized in a manner of speaking, why you hadn't wanted to press the issue. Karl had opened the door, and leaning against the frame his voice rung out with the same condescension he always had towards him.

“Lord Snow, of course you're the one who comes to her rescue.” Jaw clenching instantly, still with the childish nickname. He was the direct assistant to his stations Lord Commander, and so the nickname had passed amongst those who didn't like him as a way to mock his position. “I told her she can get the rest of her stuff, she's the one who didn't want to come back in. Not my fault.”

You looked up at Jon, imploring him to simply listen to you and leave, but his eyes had yet to leave Karl's with a growing rage burning in his blood. “And why would she be too scared to come back in, Tanner? What did you do to her?”

You tried calling Jons name, but he merely guided you to stand behind him as he took a step towards the unmoving man at the door frame. “Who says I did anything? Why don't you ask her.” Raising a smug eyebrow towards you behind him, “Go on sweetheart, tell him what caused our little disagreement.”

Jon hadn't yet realized his voice was already raising. “I heard you screaming at her on the phone, you call that a disagreement?”

Karl only shrugged, still as smug as before. “She likes to play rough, don't you?” Looking back to you once more Jon somewhat shoved you behind him far more down the grass. Muttering for you to wait in the car, and the second you tried to convince him to leave, Karl kept making it all the worse. “See, she doesn't listen to me, doesn't listen to you. Got ourselves a trouble maker, we do.”

Jon spoke over whatever you tried to say. “How about you stop talking, let me get her stuff and leave so you can tell Rast and Locke all about how you scared me into running away, and we can move on with our lives.”

“Of course.” Turning suspiciously to the side as if to give him space to walk in, but Jon didn't move yet when Karl couldn't help himself. “Take your time, I'll stay out here with our girl and make sure she doesn't wind up getting into even more trouble. Or, maybe you'd prefer her more then a little broken in?”

The second Jon moved, you had swiftly put yourself in front of him. Pushing him back, barley making any difference as he looked up, and you desperately tried to get him to look at you. “Jon, please, I just want to go.” Glancing down, his eyes softened almost instantly. “Please.” Swallowing roughly, he nodded.

Without another word, he had grabbed your arm to turn you around and once more push you ahead of him. Ensuring you were in the car first as he watched with a deathly glare at Karl the whole time. But not before one last thing came out of his mouth, now that you were in the car and Karl was sure only Jon would hear him. “If I were you Lord Snow, I'd ask her what it was she said while I was fucking her this morning that started the argument. I'm sure you'd find the answer rather interesting.”

Jon said nothing of it, slamming the car door before leaving without another word. And it took well over five silent minutes after that for you to find your voice to try and apologize. With not a shred of the harshness anymore, Jon dismissed your every attempt. Instead shifting the conversation to ask you what you brought.

“Toothbrush, toothpaste, my phone, journal, and a few clothes.” Jon asked calmly about your laptop and a glance to the side he caught you shaking your head. If he were to guess, Karl had likely already called Rast and Locke. They'd trash most of your things and sell what was left. You had sat outside already knowing you'd never get your stuff back.

Without skipping a beat, Jon simply told you “We'll go out tomorrow and I'll buy you a new one.” Protesting with a call of his name, Jon shut it down. “No arguing. I'll move things around when we get to the apartment. You can stay in my office, so the computer in there's yours but you need things of your own. We'll get whatever else you need too, clothes, furniture,” Still you protested weakly, but there wasn't any shortness in his tone. Only a gentleness mixed in with nothing but deep affection. “I have the money, you don't. You don't have to stay with us if you don't want too, but I'm still going to make sure you're alright.”

Now though, Jon could remember glancing back to you. The brightness in your eyes that he suspected you hadn't had in months as intense as you nodded a single yes to him. He never asked what it was Karl meant, it wasn't his place and you were upset, so he forgot about it.

You stayed in the apartment, no one was rushing to see you go. Jons brother Robb had known you as long as Jon, and in your own words, was just as frustratingly insistent at getting you back on your feet. The other in the apartment, a very old friend of the three of you, Theon had clearly enjoyed having you around again as well. The pair of you found your previous friendship picking up easily, acting closer to a brother and sister, meaning you contrasted well against Jon and Robb making the apartment always amusing to live in.

He knew you had trouble getting used to it, the way Northerners did things. In the South it was very much, move out, live on your own, form a new life away from family. But it was different here, it would be weird for people not to live together as such. It wasn't uncommon for when a couple marries, to move back to the family home when having their first child, so that they and the baby could be surrounded with a sense of family.

The Starks didn't have much in the way of outside family anymore, not since before Jon and Robb were even born, but it meant it only would be even weirder for them all to live apart. No one was pressuring you to find a place of your own. No one really wanted you too. And just as you were finally beginning to settle again, finding life and routine, did he come around.

Jon had blamed himself for you getting involved with Karl Tanner, you only even met him because he was pledged to Jons own station. But this time, he seemed to appear in your life out of nowhere. They all tolerated him, seeing passed his facade and not knowing how to explain it to you without sounding like they were attacking your new boyfriend. But they didn't like him, and he knew that. He knew especially, that Jon hated him. And he loved it. He loved how much Jon utterly despised him. Robb and Theon were civil, but Jon would barley speak two words to him knowing he would talk endlessly at Jon in return just to frustrate him.

He had spotted your vulnerability and used it to his advantage to slide in, and he had spotted thusly in Jon, how much he was desperately in love with you. The day he put that together, was the day Ramsay Bolton had made it his life's goal to torment Jon every single moment he could manage.

Jons office was right next to his room, which now meant you lived right next to him. He knew the layout, you shared a wall where your beds were. Now though, it felt as if when he was home he lived on the other side of his room. Distracting himself with work or really anything which came to mind in order to tune it out. Or worse, but he hadn't really been ready to even admit that to himself yet.

It wasn't right now, it was the middle of the day but that didn't change the fact that if Jon worked in complete silence, he'd be able to hear you talking. Which would inevitably lead to Jon eavesdropping, and he was trying desperately to not do that. Anymore. He couldn't stand it after months, when just talking turned to something else.

At first he tried listening to something. Shove on his headphones and tune it out, but that did not change he still knew what was happening. Jon still knew that Ramsay was doing it on purpose.

Spending the better part of the afternoon transcribing, Jon had gotten into the habit of recording his meetings with the free folk, so he could write them out and give Lord Commander Mormont a direct report of what happened, but he so rarely had time to sit at a computer and just listen and type when stationed in, that he tended to take it home. Doing it in the quiet was easier anyways, and it now gave him an excuse to hide away when Ramsay was over.

He couldn't stand there watching him dangle you in front of him, if Jon was busy working in his room.

By the time he emerged, Ramsay was nowhere to be found. Wandering into the kitchen, noticing that he had hidden away long enough that dinner had been made and cleaned up. Robb looked up to his brother, noting the eternal frown on his face and tense posture, he nodded to the fridge. “She left you a plate. Knew you were working, she didn't want to bother you.”

Opening it up, indeed whatever had been made you set Jon aside his own. Exhaling through his nose, Jons eyes shut not noting his hand gripping the handle of the door tightly, nor the slightly more rough shove he gave to close it. Asking low, Jon was grateful Robb was used to Jon when he was like this. “When'd they leave?”

Neither had to specify who. Robb knew Jon and Ramsay hated each other, and that Jon only endured it for your sake. It was why he and Theon endured it too, if Jon could set aside his short temper and overwhelming protectiveness for you, then the least they could do was match that. None of the guys wanted to upset you.

Robb returned back to whatever he had been writing out, “Hours ago. Said something came up at home, she's just in the other room with Theon for the night.”

A frown coming across his face further, Jon turned to him. “Wasn't he supposed to take her out somewhere tonight?” Robb nodded and looked no more impressed. It was a science exhibit that all three of them had poked fun at you, by calling it nerdy. But Ramsay had offered to take you, and judging by your jacket and boots still sitting by the main hall, had indeed, backed down on it.

Jon glanced up to spot the time, keeping the grumble to himself that it was way too late for him to take you, it'd be nearly over by the time he got you there. Besides, he knew you would be bashful. Saying not to go out of his way and you were perfectly content staying in, despite Jon knowing how much you were looking forward too it.

Robb read his mind. “What's that now? Four times this month he's cancelled on her plans?” Jon corrected him on five, recollecting the time you went out of your way to reschedule a dinner reservation at a nice place in Torrhens Square. Ramsay had called you quite literally at the same instance Jon was braiding your hair for you as you tried to put a little extra effort into your makeup, saying he couldn't make it.

Your shoulders had deflated under Jons touch, clearing your throat as you hung up and very awkwardly apologized for making him help you for nothing. Jon had tried to insist otherwise but you shut down, trying to laugh it off rather unconvincingly before leaving to your room and not coming out the rest of the night.

He hadn't told anyone, nor you, that he spotted the dress you bought specifically for that date buried the next day at the bottom of what you called your donate pile. Jon had been there when you bought it too. You had kept looking at it on the rack, this long sleeved dress in whites and ivory and lace trailing down the forearms as it draped along the floor like a gown. The restaurant was fancy and it would be perfect, but you were busying yourself with a thin strapped red dress. Short to the point it on you would hardly cover even part of your thighs, and a neck which would show plenty cleavage despite you not even owning anything showing off like that.

Jon had asked if you were sure of it, and you tried to play it off. Saying it was the sort of thing Ramsay suggested would look good for you to try, but as you were asking the assistant if it came in your size Jon had gently murmured he would be right back. A hand trailing along your back and hip as he passed you by.

Finding your size easy, Jon had brought it over to you before the woman even came back. Telling you to try it on in the meantime. Not mentioning he knew you had been looking at it the entire time, only prompting you into the dressing room with it. Thanking the clerk when she came back but you had reconsidered something else. The woman, a bit older had smiled a little bit, nodding to the curtain hiding where you were. “She's lucky to have a man like you at her side, most boyfriends already have gold and silvers out waiting to buy numbers like that.”

Jon never even considered to correct her that he wasn't your boyfriend.

You had asked him gently to come in, not wanting to make a scene of such a dress on you out in the open if you weren't sure. Not that you had known, but however turned on men would've been by you and your plush skin and soft curves in that tiny red dress, was nothing compared to how hard Jon felt looking at you in such an innocent, long and modest white dress. He didn't insist on buying it, fearing it would look as if Jon was just trying to manipulate you into getting what he wanted. He did want to see you in it, but because you had clearly wanted it so much.

And then a month later, the day after Ramsay cancelled the reservation the second time, it just sat at the bottom of a box. Nicely folded and clean to be donated because the return date had expired, and you no longer had a use for such a fancy dress.

It looked rather odd sitting in Jons closet, a long, white dress amongst far, far too much black mens clothing, but he didn't want you to give up on it yet. You never owned such fanciful things, it wasn't the way you were raised, to value luxury. But Jon knew if the right opportunity came up, if Ramsay bothered to put even a modicum of effort into doing something nice for you, then Jon would show you he kept it for you, so you could have one night in the dress you were so excited to buy.

Jon was so utterly lost in his thoughts, he missed half of everything Robb had said to him. Not even bothering to sit at the table with him, Jon just stood with his back and shoulders tense as anything as he ate at the counter. Only tuning into what Robb was saying as he called to him louder. “Snow.” Jon turning abruptly to look, Robb just gave him a flat expression. “You hear a word I said?”

At least Jon was blunt about it. “No.”

Robb only smirked, used to it at that point. “Father wants you there too, said he'll bloody pay your Lord Commander to give you the night if he has too.” Jon only asked in confusion what Robb was talking about and he shook his head. “You getting knocked in the head out there by the Wall? Starting to loose brain cells already.” Jon took the jest with a grain of salt when coming from Robb. “The Harvest Gala, all of Winter Town's coming into Winterfell, and all the older families are going to be there. Father told me to tell you, you don't have a choice. You're coming, and he's dragging Uncle Benjen down too.”

Moving to wash his plate, Jon only asked “Why did he ask you and not call me?”

“Fathers known you your whole life, if he asked directly you'd make an excuse.” Asking if anyone else was going, Robb dissected the root of Jons curiosity. “Roose Boltons coming, which means Ramsay will be going if that's what your asking.”

Jon only left the room muttering under his breath, leaving behind the sound of his brother laughing both at his expense and as a cope for how little Robb too, was looking forward to the later. “Great. A whole night with you highborns and watching Ramsay shoving his tongue down her throat.”

Oh Jon hated how much effort he put into willing his cock not to get hard now of all times. Not an usual sight, Theon sitting on a chair in the main room working his way through a game, and you spread out gently on the couch across the television watching. Only, you were utterly ruining Jon. He had been wondering where one of his Nights Watch shirts had gone and there you lay wearing it like it was normal you would wear Jons clothes. Sometimes the guys things would mix with your laundry, but normally you gave them their things back right away. Yet you laid out in his shirt, clearly oversized on you. He dared not think that it was large enough and the material thick enough, you could completely hide were you not wearing a bra.

Before he could embarrass himself further, Jon closed his eyes to let an exhale out and get himself together.

He said nothing of it as he approached, only gesturing to your legs as you looked up at his approaching figure. Pulling them more towards your chest, Jon very casually and without thought, grabbed them once more to return you to your previous position just now with your thighs resting in his lap. Your voice was quiet enough for Jon to pick up on without completely disrupting Theon. “Did you see the plate I left you?” Nodding, you sighed out in a relief. “I tried to message you while I was still cooking, but you didn't answer so I figured you were busy. I would've come and gotten you otherwise.”

Narrowing his brows, Jon pulled his phone out and it had been some hours since he checked it clearly. Sam and Grenn both with messages in the group chat, a few from Tormund separately, emails no doubt from Cotter Pyke down at Eastwatch by the Sea bothering him for some thing or another, and of course a single message from you, sweetly asking if he was going to miss dinner and if not you would keep enough for him to sit aside.

Glancing back down at you with a low rasp, “I'm sorry, I haven't even looked at it in hours.” Jon could feel the restraint not to call you by the term he used for you alone. He had always called you darling, he had since he was ten. But it felt unfair to keep calling you that when you were with Ramsay, and Jon also knew if he kept too comfortable it would one day slip out in front of the man himself, and Jon would not have gotten to live it down.

Shaking your head, you flipped more on your back, head turned to see the screen but more easily face Jon when you needed too. “It's alright. I only didn't want you to think I didn't make anything for you.”

Jon would've said you didn't need to make him anything in general, but you both have had that discussion too many times to count. It was fruitless task. Robb and Theon had more normal schedules so sharing who cooked when between you three was easy, but Jons schedule was never consistent day to day. Jon typically came home having not eaten most of the day and so you liked to cook for him. If he worked into the night, you always would check in when he was coming home and if it was in time, you liked to be the one to make dinner.

Since on those nights, you always tried to make sure things were done by the time Jon walked into the apartment, and almost always, at least one part of the meal would be something you knew he specifically liked more then the others. He had long since given up trying to tell you that you shouldn't feel obligated to do that, but you would then have that narrowed expression as if confused why he thinks you feel obligated.

It was quiet between you both when he breached the topic, feeling you stiffen up right away. “Next time something comes up, you should tell me. I would've taken you to the exhibit.”

But you only shook your head, “It's fine. It isn't your responsibility to drive me around like that. You have more important things to do.” No words were appropriate which came to mind, as Jon felt deep within the confines of his heart, that you were what was most important to him.

So he only muttered back, “Just tell me next time. I don't want you missing out on things.”

Your brows narrowed, something hesitant and not understanding flashed in your eyes as you glanced between Jon and the screen. It was risky going further you knew, but your brain did not understand his meaning. “I'm not missing out on things, Jon. Ramsay and I can go on another date any other time.”

Both of you were too stubborn to let it drop. “Dates are one thing, it's another to cancel everytime you have something you're looking forward too.” Jon could tell something about what he had said bothered you. Your jaw clenching a bit as you no doubt bit down on your tongue. Shifting to look back to the screen and no longer keeping Jon in sight.

Were you more childish, you'd have something clever to retort with, but you didn't. Because Jon was right. You simply did not like to think about how often that statement was turning out to be right. You could go to an exhibit anytime. Well, not that one. Only was there for the night and then the event was leaving the North, and it was the only one you truly wanted to go see, but it was fine. There were other things you and Ramsay did other then stupid events you wanted to go to like a child.

You however did not like that when trying to come up with other things Ramsay liked to do with you, the only conclusion that kept coming to you, was how often Ramsay turned down doing anything or going anywhere with you, in favour of just having sex. Then leaving. Much like what Karl was like, fuck and then fucked off elsewhere for the night.

No, you certainly did not want to think about that, because then you'd have to acknowledge the warmth behind your face in an unpleasant manner, and the sting in your eyes. Or how just laying here with your legs draped over Jons lap, his hand respectful as it was caressing, his thumb trailed along where one hand rested on your thigh, was the most intimate feeling you'd gotten from a man in well over a year. You felt dumb wanting to cry at such thoughts. You were an adult, adults in relationships have sex, what was your problem. Telling yourself, you should be grateful Ramsay was even kind enough to fuck you in the first place.

After all, that's exactly what Ramsay would tell you to your face, wasn't it?

It wasn't as if it were obnoxiously loud. On the other side of the back stretch of the apartment were Robbs room, then Theons. It left yours and Jons just on their own at the left end. It was never loud enough it reached their rooms or even the living room. No, it was something so purposeful. It was just loud enough, that only Jon could hear, and he knew Ramsay did it on purpose.

Prompting you specifically to be louder, trying to prompt you to talk more, boast about what he was doing to you more, and mocking you about being shy. All the while, Jon would sit at his desk, gripping his pen so tightly it threatened to snap, because Ramsay would always ensure your headboard banged against Jons wall. The absolute obscene things Jons heard Ramsay say to you by this point, and he could confirm to the no one who asked, that Ramsay wasn't just mean during sex, he bordered on sadistic and cruel.

Jon hated that he knew you were naturally quieter in bed, because of how often Ramsay would make you go louder and louder, and the more perverted things he'd force you to say that sounded unnatural coming from your beautiful, sweet, high pitched voice. It was an unspoken thing only between Jon and Ramsay that this went on. Jon gave zero indication to you he could hear anything, and he knew Robb and Theon heard nothing.

It was something Ramsay did just to make him miserable.

At first he had a routine. It would start, then Jon no matter the time of night, would quietly prompt his direwolf Ghost to go for a night hike in the woods just outside the Stark properties his family all lived on. Sometimes if he was awake, Jon too would beckon Robb's direwolf Grey Wind to join. Ramsay never stayed until morning, and so Jon would wait until he saw his car leave and only then would he make his way down the path from the cliff side and try to sleep. Only one time did Ramsay stay, and he was smart enough at least not to cause a scene that would wake everyone else up.

Jon had just rolled in, a thirty two hour stretch at the Wall and he only had gotten home. Making something simple to eat before a very quick shower, and finally planning on going into his room and passing out, Jon stood in the kitchen in time to hear quiet creeping footsteps. Coming out to the hall, Jon came face to face with Ramsay and it was the only time he'd seen Ramsay hesitate.

Jon still dressed in the black leathers uniformed along the Nights Watch with eyes so seething and black they matched what he wore, Ramsay had finally found one instance where he knew Jon would have the upper hand. It was easy for men like him, highborns who never worked for anything in his life, to mock the Nights Watch right up until he stood before Jon in his dark, imposing uniform. Remembering that as much as the North called them peacekeepers, almost every brother of the Nights Watch was somewhat trained for combat, and Jon was the primary teacher for his station after all.

Jon remembered feeling that Ramsay was lucky. The more skilled men at his station would carry weapons. Partially a left over from when the Nights Watch was entangled in active conflicts with the free folk, and now partially serving as a reminder that the Nights Watch was not governed within the same confines of law. Jon used to bring it home with him, the sword strapped to his side called Longclaw, but he stopped bringing it home when you moved in. Not wanting you to feel uncomfortable with it. He was also lucky Jon remembered thinking, that the shorter dagger Jon kept for safety purposes, still sat in the glove box of his car.

Or maybe, Jon was unlucky he didn't have those with him. Maybe Ramsay wouldn't have come back.

Ramsay only rose an eyebrow at him in knowing before leaving. Jon hadn't blinked nor spoken a word as he watched him leave. Going into the bathroom you two shared, all Jon planned was to forget about it. Wash the grime from his body and rinse out the sweat in his long curls from keeping it up so many hours, but he couldn't stop thinking of it. Of how Ramsay had only been here to sneak off, because he had fallen asleep after fucking you.

The thought was made far worse when Jon realized in his absence, you had restocked everything for him so he wouldn't have to rush out to the store when finally coming home. He couldn't stand it, how domestic you treated Jon while knowing Ramsay got the rest of what came with that.

People mistakened Jon for your boyfriend nearly everytime you two went out alone somewhere. It always happened, and eventually you stopped correcting people on it, not thinking the truth worth explaining to people you barley knew. Someone called you Jons wife once, and he nearly blacked out at the thought. But for all you two treated each other as, Jon sat in his room that night with his jaw clenched so hard he wondered if it would break.

Headphones on, Jon was trying to find anything to distract himself. Abandoning his report open, and leaned much more relaxed back in his chair, connecting his headphones to his phone now, he tried not to consider why he did it. He was a man, men didn't need a reason so why did he? Why was Jon trying not to listen to what he could hear of you specifically as he opened up his browser. If it was nothing in particular working him up, why did Jon double check looking to his door to ensure it was locked?

It was only a coincidence that the search terms he looked for, were physical traits that just so happened to describe you. It had nothing to do with anything. And it was not at all, anything but lack of interest that had him close his browser after searching through nearly fifty pages. Because if Jon let himself think about the truth, then he'd have to admit that he had spent the past half an hour searching through a porn site looking for a girl who looked like you. And when he found no one who came close, Jon would have to admit that he exited the site, and very intentionally opened a message thread between he and you.

It didn't take long to find, many times you instead of typing longer messages, would send him voice notes. Knowing if Jon was at his desk at his station, he could just plug an earbud in to listen instead of stopping to read. The conversation he had found, was nothing even close to erotic. You were simply talking about something that funny you found even working from home now, did you still find ways to be annoyed each time your co workers reached out to you.

You were just too natural. Light and airy in tone, high pitched as you were much more quick in tone and not so formal for once. You were the most you in your voice notes in contrast to your typed messages, and yet despite there not being a single thing about the words you were saying being seductive, Jon felt his cock stir, unfairly hard he was and just as he was going to talk himself out of this idea, Ramsay had clearly prompted you to go again.

The second Jon heard your unsure voice on the other side of his wall, his free hand was already undoing his belt.

He loved your voice so much, the way you sounded so sweet when it was only the two of you. How from sure of yourself, how put together and stern you were all melted away into a gentle but kind shyness when with Jon. So few people ever heard you laugh, but Jon had so many voice notes of you laughing or giggling to yourself with whatever you were saying.

Jon could tune out what was on the other side of the wall, as long as he had your voice in his ear in whatever pathetic capacity he was allowed to have. He was also not in a rush, his hand slow as he moved his fist up and down his length, enjoying the building pleasure running through him at the sound of your voice. His hold a bit tighter when you would say his name. One hand kept scrolling, as soon as one series of voice notes as done, he searched for more.

Each new one, Jon stroked his cock a little faster, hand holding a little tighter. Breathing heavy, jaw clenched, Jon contained a grunt in his chest at the way you would say his name. Seven hells did Jon love the way his name sounded on your lips. Tighter more he gripped himself, running his hand up and down faster again.

It was why he kept headphones always charged. He couldn't dare have this interrupted now, and he couldn't listen to it out loud. Jon needed to cum to your voice, but he needed it to be for him and not for Ramsay. The desire ran through him, overwhelming Jons head. It was like an addiction, some men took shade of the evening to get themselves through life out of their minds. But Jons addiction was you, it always had been.

Truth be told, he hadn't even noticed a groan left him. Head falling back, his cock throbbed in his hand at the sound of your giggle. He was a doomed man, he replayed the sound again and again. Then another voice note, then the next and the next. Until he came along one you were not just giggling, but affectionately saying his name as well.

His insides burned, his hand running up and down his cock rough, fast, needing and desperate to cum with each stroke, which each sound of his name from your voice. How long had he been going, he wasn't even sure. All Jon knew was that his mind was consumed with thoughts of you so much his cock begged for you.

Hissing through gritted teeth, “Oh fuck-” Jon prayed to the old gods he had not said your name. He was lucky they answered, but he had come so dangerously close to groaning your name as he came, that he felt himself almost forming the first letters it. Cumming into his hand, Jon kept stroking until he had nothing left. And it seemed, Ramsay didn't either. It was dead silent next door.

Not sparing time, Jon tucked himself back in, tossing his phone and headphones onto his desk, before opening the door to his hall. Ramsay always left your door partially open, and as he peeked in, you were under your covers still bare, turned away from the door looking rather alone. Likely your sleeping self was wondering why your lover was not next to you to comfort you in your sleep. Jon closing it silently, and noting properly Ramsay was nowhere to be found.

His phone told him that it was two am. Jon knew he wouldn't get any sleep before needing to leave for the Wall. Ensuring the apartment was empty and sleeping, Jon didn't go to bed. No, sitting back at his desk, that time Jon spared no time in once more pulling his already throbbing cock out. Jon spared not a second in pretending he wasn't getting off thinking about you, wishing he would ever know what being inside you would be like.

What made things more complicated, was a message informing Jon he needn't come in that day, and thus he sat at the table that morning with Robb and Theon plagued with two thoughts. He had always tried to deny it, but this was the first time Jon had been so brazen with himself that he would stroke his cock thinking explicitly of you. Hoping that it wasn't about to change the way he acted with you, only he didn't get the chance to know right away.

You had been very late getting out of bed. Which was unusual, you were very disciplined about not sleeping so late. Your alarm goes off and your feet were out of bed within seconds. But it had reached the point you would have been up and getting settled into whatever project you had going on for the day, when you only had just emerged the first time.

They only heard it from the sounds of your door opening and closing, but it was Theons quick muttering in an angry confusion of, “What the fuck?” Did it have Jon and Robb look up.

You had been awake the whole time, you were however, hiding. For a good reason. As quick as both Robb and Theon were to stand up and call your name, Jon was already down the hall with a bit of a short tempered shout of your name as you ignored him. Grabbing your coat you didn't even wait to put it on before walking out the door.

Stepping out to the porch, Jon watched you swiftly rush to a car waiting for you. Recognizing inside the driver as Loras Tyrell, and in the backseat where you joined was his sister Margaery. You had shut the door without ever acknowledging him and clearly had told Loras to just go, taking off before Jon had a single answer from you.

You had left the house in a hurry, avoiding the guys all, because when they last saw you, it was with Ramsay who was clearly taking you to bed to fuck. But the next time they saw you as you rushed out the door, the guys had recognized the very distinct look of a bloody cut across your lip and a bruised eye.

It had been a longstanding joke within the Stark household that whomever built the family home, must have purposely Stark proofed everything in advance, protecting the house from the wolves tempers. Ned Stark was currently trying to quell his sons anger, Theon was sitting more firmly at the table trying to convince you to answer your phone. Robb was perched with his palms against the table on the other side seething with anger, while Jon leaned against the wall arms crossing his chest and truly looking nowhere but with his eyes so grey they appeared as black as they were angry and intense.

They had only just stopped slamming things about as Catelyn sent them into the dining room before they broke a plate with all their ruckus. Ned still was trying to be the calm voice of reason for the three of them despite his own feelings on the matter. He did not know the boy, Ramsay, but he knew his father Roose Bolton all too well. And that told him enough.

Emerging from where she had headed upstairs, Sansa returned looking at her phone confirming what their father had asked her to find out. “Margaery says she is with her and Loras, but she doesn't want to talk about what happened.”

Robb shook his head with a clench of his jaw, “We let him stay in our home, and he expects us to stand by as he beats-”

Ned cut him off, “Now we don't know he did that to her.”

Robb interrupting as soon as his father stopped talking, “She goes to bed with him fine, and she comes out the next morning alone with a black eye and cut lip? So, she what? Busted her face up all on her own by accident?”

Running his hand over his mouth, Ned sat down before both elbows propped up on the table to clasp together in thought. “I'm not saying that. I am saying that we should think before you three all go back out there and hunt the boy down.”

Nothing but a low rasp was Jons voice coming out in a restrained anger. “We don't need to hunt him down, we know where the Dreadfort is.” Ned gave a slight tilt of his head towards Jon, but he only clenched his jaw and turned to look back out the front window as if you'd appear in the driveway.

Trying to speculate why you would want to hide it, and Sansa looked up from her phone to say with a passing casualness. “It's obvious.” Raising an eyebrow at Jon with a look almost stern like a lecture, “She didn't want to deal with your reaction, if she's upset and you come lashing out of course she'd want time away.”

Jon pushed off the wall, face twisting into an anger as he raised his voice slightly. “Ramsay beat her and you're blaming me?”

Sansa only shrugged, a look almost smug like she had her point proven. “Maybe if you could control your temper.”

Once more Ned had to speak up interrupting what would inevitably turn into an argument should he let the two of them keep going. “Sansa, try and get Margaery to find out when she plans on coming home without making her feel pressured to come back now.” Robb tried arguing why shouldn't you come home now, and Ned once more shut it down. “She's upset, and so are all of you. It will not help anyone, give her space and she'll come back. In the meantime, don't do anything rash about Ramsay. Only until the gala is over, I'd rather not have the Boltons pull their support before we direct their funding.”

He knew it was a bit of a bias, not being anywhere close to the traditional Stark family business, Jon piped up with a dismissive mutter under his breath. “Of course, wouldn't want to scare them away after they've scared her all the way to Highgarden.”

“Jon.” Looking away in a bit of shame at the sternness in his fathers voice, Jon knew it was far more complicated then that but the agitation of not being allowed to do anything was getting to him. He just wanted to know what the hell happened.

You could tell she was surprised that you hadn't flinched once. The small swab of alcohol running along your lip and only your hands clenched slightly before relaxing again as she cleaned it. Voice soft but something attempting to be convincing against a difficult target, “Are you sure you don't want to tell us what he did?”

Inhaling slightly, you straightened your posture slightly as Margaery took that as her answer. Sighing of her own as her shoulders deflated, she glanced somewhat behind her, looking at Loras to implore him to help. But he only gestured towards you with an outstretched hand. “If she won't tell you what happened, what could I do differently?”

You had long gotten used to the manner in which the two siblings could joke about you as if you weren't in the room. “She's too used to my feminine wiles, maybe she needs a mans touch.”

Though, it slipped out before you had the sense to stop it. “If he closes his eyes and pretends I have grown a few more inches, maybe.” The glare was not meaning what so ever, not towards you. Despite the family you came from, it was still your Uncle Renly which Loras was seeing. He had long stopped wondering if such comments from you were serious. Attempting to change the subject, you tried dismissal as the first tactic with it. “It was only an accident.”

Tilting her head, she looked at you as if you were stupid. “If it were an accident, you wouldn't have messaged me first thing in the morning to come get you. Not caring about something is not the same as avoiding it all together.”

Truly, you did not wish to come here for a lecture. If you wanted that, you'd have stayed in the apartment. Margaerys eyes peeling away from you for a moment, taking little time to tap out a response to something as part of you wondered how she could possibly use the screen with nails that long. Turning back, you glanced at it with a knowing question.

“It's nothing.” Your expression fell flat as Loras's behind her grew into a smirk. Changing her tone to much more casual explaining, “Sansa was asking me if you're alright. Don't worry I told her you don't want to talk about what happened, just that you're staying with us for a little while.”

If anything had you close your eyes in defeat. That meant it had already spread as far as the main Stark house, by nightfall all of them would know. Loras at least had done the smart thing early, leaning his hand to the back seat telling you to give your phone over. Saying, “You can't be tempted to look at it if you don't have it on you.”

Had he not promptly turned it off, you'd no doubt be seeing it light up every few minutes with one of them either messaging you or calling you. By the time Arya finds out, no doubt eighty percent of such notifications would be from her. They could last without you for a few days. The Winterfell Harvest Gala was only three days away, by then hopefully things would have cooled down.

If not, then Margaery had at the least, assured you that your eye would be healed enough by then she could cover most of the bruise with makeup. For now though, you knew over the hours from when it happened, your eye had begun looking far worse as the bruising colours finally set in. You hadn't even known it was hard enough of an impact to leave a bruise until you woke up. Instantly, you had messaged Margaery asking if she and Loras could come get you.

Correctly assuming the second the guys saw it, they would get angry and that was exactly what happened. You thought you had a better chance of not being seen, thinking if it were only Robb and Theon, then maybe you could sneak from the door when they were near their rooms getting ready to leave, but then you realized Jon was still home for whatever reason.

That was when you added an additional message saying to just reply here when they arrived, and you'd come out to them, not wanting more of a scene to be made. The second you realized Theon saw you, you snatched your coat and walked out the front door. Of course Jon was the most angry, he and Ramsay hated each other. But you didn't want to deal with that after what happened.

You had been in their kitchen, assisting their ever immaculate and tart tongued grandmother Olenna with the baking. Whomever the highest of family names attending the Harvest Gala were, it was a tradition that the Starks provided the main feast and the subsequent families would provide a dessert unique to their region.

The whole kitchen smelled of a mixture of baking apples and fresh lemons, it was peaceful. For as quick on the draw as Olenna Tyrell was, she knew when to get down to business and your quietness only meant that you were a diligent worker to make up for the lack of conversation. Which she was fine, with, as long as she could pull a small smile from you now and again she could affirm you hadn't been knocked around that badly.

Oh she took it seriously, but she also did not coddle you. Which was what you wanted. “It won't make you feel better, but it will distract you long enough you may finally rid yourself of that sulking expression.”

You almost went to protest you made such a look, but her eyes shined in an amusement for you to prove her point. Huffing out what may have been a hint of a smile, you returned to the tasks she had delegated you towards. “So why is it your grandchildren get out of doing any of this?”

Olenna never failed to be as blunt as she was quick. “Those two out there are talented at many things, but baking certainly is not one of them. At least you know how to make something look attractive more then just the reflection in the mirror.” All said with a love you knew she held, the Tyrells never ones to withhold a jest at the others expense.

Decorating the very top of the small surface you had to work with, you heard the front door open as you did her voice accompanied by Maragery. You knew she was coming, and if you had any stroke of luck it was that there was one person in that family who wasn't going to hound you about it, it was Sansa.

You could tell her eyes sought you out the moment she walked into the kitchen, trying to keep whatever reaction to your not yet healed eye to herself. Though, it was easy as you without much thought on any other matters, grabbed one of the smaller pieces and turned towards her. “Perfect, I need you to tell me if it's missing something.”

Grabbing the small lemon cake from you, her face twisted from a purposeful look of thought to an easy enjoyment and a hum of satisfaction. Barley managing to her herself swallow the pastry, boasting with genuity. “That's delicious, do you make these often?”

Shaking your head, you turned back to carefully pipe the tops of the full sized ones into each matching design. “Not really. Usually my family brings something seafood in origin, so sweet isn't my normal handling.”

Normally she would have been over here for Margaery, but as she sat down at the island counter in the middle of the kitchen, you suspected she came with not so hidden intentions. “Everyone was worried about you yesterday morning.”

Saving grace, Olenna spoke up from her own work on the mixture going around the apple fillings. “Yes, yes, one muddied up face and the Starks send themselves into a pack formation.” Trying to protest, Sansa was as used to the woman as you were by now. “We needn't beat around the bush, my dear. Her brute of a boyfriend knocks her around, and every wolf within a thousand mile radius gets sent on a hunting spree. If they had reason to be worried, she wouldn't be here suggesting to bake lemon cakes simply because she knew you loved them and were coming over.”

Head raising just the slightest, you'd have rather wished that she didn't rat you out so quickly, but you only tilted your head in no denial when Sansa looked at you brightly. “Don't tell the others, I have a badly tarnished image to maintain.”

Margaery walked into the room, her light voice floating about as did she move with her usual, yet annoying level of grace. “Only your hypothetical image. I'll have that face prettied up for the Gala like none could guess.” Her own hands toying with the bright orange hair loose down Sansas back, did she also lean in to mock whisper. “Aren't I so good at hiding when someone marks up a girls pretty skin?”

A fluster came about Sansa pulling away as you and Margaery both laughed at her reaction. Sharing a look with the later, before raising your eyebrows to the former. “You're lucky I'm good at keeping secrets.”

Looking between all of those in the room she tried to deny it once more, “It isn't like that-”

“So you didn't change your foundation to a new brand, because it was easier at hiding when this one,” Pointing the now empty piping nozzle towards Margaery, “Gets a little bit too carried away in her spare time?” Both girls pretend to be annoyed with one another, but there was little weight behind it.

Margaery was likely the only person who Sansa couldn't stay mad or annoyed at. Almost drifting your mind away, considering the simple fact that you however, were the one who got everyone angry with you. A talent of yours.

You didn't want to think about it, it was a completely different situation then that.

Nothing in common, you felt so much more at your wits end here, the opposite of relaxed as Margaery and Sansa fussed about you. Their touch felt yanking at trying to decide how to this time dress up their new doll, when all you could recall was the last time anyone did something like this for you was before you threw that beautiful dress into the box to donate when Ramsay cancelled your reservation a second time.

You were focused on trying to paint up your eyes, while Jon stood behind you. You had asked if he would help put your hair in a braid, just a simple one until you could decide what you wanted to do, when he took over. Warm against your back, Jon begun carefully and expertly moving the strands around into a braid far more fancy then you could have ever accomplished yourself. Rasping low that braids suited you, whereas here both girls were arguing you should keep it down.

“Make him feel guilty. Show off a little.” You wanted to toss away the dress they handed you, but Margaery grabbed you and walked you to step behind her privacy screen to try it on. “You want Ramsay to realize what he may be missing out on if he keeps acting like this.”

Not being able to see her, you picked up the doubt in Sansas tone as she perched herself on the edge of Margaerys bed. “Are you sure that's the right approach? It may look like she's trying to impress other men.”

The dress itself was fine, but it showed off so much in terms of your back, arms, waist, too much. “That's exactly what we want. He needs to chase her a little, show why he's better then other men, give her a reason to stay other then familiarity.” Suddenly turning with a small shout, “Are you done yet?”

Sighing out, you shook your head without caring they could not see. “Do you have something a little less..revealing?” Sansa laughed, reminding you whose closet you were borrowing from. A deep sigh came out, “Try.”

The next two were also a no. “The Gala is tomorrow, you can't say no to everything.”

Cutting back quickly, “I can if I don't go.”

Sansa spoke before Margaery could once again. “If you don't go, you know my brothers will come and drag you home themselves.” Clearly the two shared a look as she explained quieter, “Shocked they haven't already.”

Oh you were even less sure about this one. The both of them dragging you out to stand before the full mirror in the room, one at each side somewhat behind you the doubt was radiating from your face. “You don't think it's too-” Shutting you down, Margaery only grasped at your hair once more, fiddling with it as she thought through what she wanted to do to match.

Still, her feeling and touch was nowhere near as comforting as Jons.

It was the same every year, but this year it bothered him more. The fact that you would sit up with those of the Baratheon family, occupied around by those who lived around Kings Landing. You had arrived with the Tyrells, but dutifully took your place by your family when Jon wished you would at least look over to him once. Wounds like that do not heal so easily, but it appeared as if there was no bruise around your eye at all.

You should've been allowed to walk in without covering it up, force everyone to see what a man like Ramsay does to his partner. Luckily, Jons morose attitude was easily hidden as well, but by the simple make up of that his Uncle Benjen beside him was equally as unhappy. But they suffered there together, both arriving in a variation of their attire with the Nights Watch, as if to separate themselves from those around.

Some laughs were found between the two of them. Jon knew Ghost was not supposed to be in the banquet hall, but as his name, no one noticed the direwolf laying by Jons feet unseen under the table. Without much thought even, in one moment sat by him a whole roast chicken, the next Jon had flipped a knife up, stabbing it in the meat and depositing it under the table to the very happy Ghost, as Jon continued like he hadn't done anything. Benjen tried not to laugh into the beer in his mug, and he too could see Jon failing to hide his own smirk as he brought his own up to his lips.

Every family who mattered was in attendance in the banquet hall, and outside the muffles of music and laughter where the thousands of other attendees shared the boasts of their own harvest. Thousands of years ago it was a tradition between those only of noble birth, to celebrate the Northern harvest together but the longer the years passed and more of community being formed within the lands less separated by monarchy, it had turned into something much more.

There were always two which switched, the Harvest Gala always took place in the North, hosted in the vast lands of Winterfell always by the Starks. The other was a much more specific celebration taking place in the capitol of Kings Landing.

Jon had never attended it, most Northerners didn't as most never even would go south of Moat Cailin. Close by his fathers seat, Jon could see the ever elusive Howland Reed. An old friend from worse days and the man only ever came out of his home in Greywater Watch for Ned's sake. His two children, Meera and Jojen sat next to each other as they would gesture across the way to Bran.

Even from where Jon was sitting further away, he amusingly could see Sansa desperately trying not to look over to the Tyrells, and then down to her lap only to recall father had forced them all to leave their phones in the main house. It had taken some years for her to settle, her attitude high strung and dismissively childish for many years all coming into a clarity the day she had sat down with their father and her mother. Robb and Jon being the eldest naturally being there too, as she had apologized for her behaviour.

It was much more easy to forgive her when her apology was followed with the admission that she and the Tyrell girl were seeing one another. Now that she had it out in the open, it was easier for the rest of them to move passed the rough years. But it also meant, that he knew for a fact Sansa had spent some time with you in the days previous.

Wanting to ask her about how you were, how your eye looked, if the cut across your bottom lip was indeed healed or if it was simply the red shade painting your mouth hiding it. He knew both his sister and Margaery must have had a hand in choosing how to dress you for the event.

Trying not to consider that the dress you were wearing clearly was borrowed and not your size, as certain places where your curves stood out so beautifully to him looked that much more alluring then it would on the rather small Tyrell. He knew for a fact you must have been embarrassed beyond anything walking in the main doors wearing something showing that much. It draped along your shoulders like a fine silk and down your back scooping low enough a few less inches of fabric and your hips would have been showing next. You kept a darker shall wrapped around you though, still not at all comfortable with how much the dress emphasized your breasts.

The amount of make up was their choice too, he knew that. The bold shade of red staining your lips as if meant to tempt men to ruin, it was not a choice you'd do on your own. It was as if you had been dressed to catch one's eye and as Jons flew across the hall a pair of pale blue ones had certainly been trapped in that net.

Ramsay had no right to look at you that way after what he did, Jon thought. He never gave you respect as it was, and this was something else. But Jons own watchful eye also caught what no one else was seeing as well. How every now and again, Ramsay would turn to the small dark haired girl next to him and the two would blatantly flirt and touch.

Were it a glass Jon was holding and not a much more sturdy made mug, it would've shattered from the force Jons hand was tightening around the grip. How often did Ramsay leave you after fucking you, to sneak off to whomever this girls bed was? How long had he been using you as a public shield to then sleep around behind your back?

Once more his eyes caught yours not looking at anyone. Sometimes sharing half baked smiles or a fake huff of laughter with your cousin Myrcella, but little else. You hardly touched your food, and the only other person in your families sitting who was out beating you in the amount of wine you were drinking, was your uncle Robert.

You had showed up trying to look as if everything was fine, but Jon knew the amount you were drinking was telling him you were anything but. Whatever dessert was sat in front of you as the night progressed too was passed by. Already forming a plan in his head, the moment the meal would end, Jon needed to make his way over to you. He needed to apologize before you were too drunk to be able to fairly understand it.

He was so angry when he had seen what Ramsay did, but he knew it was wrong to let that anger out around you. You deserved better then that, but he was beginning to sense you wouldn't be anywhere near sober enough to understand any apology at this rate. And the more you drank, the less he noticed Ramsay did.

Jon had too, but he stopped because he hadn't wanted to let any intoxicated emotions get the better of him about you. He suspected however, Ramsay had stopped, in order to gain back any sobriety he lost, so that he held all the power when he'd inevitably approach you. He would take advantage of your drunk state to weasel his way back into having you forgive him. Men like Ramsay, like Karl Tanner, they took advantage of girls like you.

Quiet and not confrontational, insecure and quiet so manipulating you into staying with them, and relying on them was easier. It was why Jon said he'd make sure you owned your own things once leaving Tanners house. He wanted to help you, but he didn't want you to rely on him. That was what Tanner did, moved you away from everyone who cared and made you rely on him for everything.

How long, Jon thought, would it take for Ramsay to convince you to leave the apartment and move in with him? Keep you away from the rest of them, and no doubt whisper things in your uncertain ear about Jon to drive a wedge between you. Tanner tried doing it to you about Jon as well, but it wasn't so personal. He spoke lies as such about anyone who wasn't himself. Not even Rast nor Locke, cravens that they were, were immune to that.

But Ramsay knew. Jon knew that Ramsay was fully aware of what Jon felt for you. It was why he loved dangling you in front of him, why he fucked you just loud enough to make Jon lose his mind at what he wasn't the one getting. Cancelled plans you were looking forward too, only ever did just enough with you to convince you to let him fuck you, and Ramsay had the audacity to touch and flirt with other women in the same bloody room as you, knowing you were too nervous to look at him.

Jon would rather you never date, then watch you continue to date men who saw your worth as nothing but something to shove their cocks in. You were so much more then that, but they had convinced you otherwise. Why else would you stay with a man who made you that upset so often normally, because you had figured it was all you deserved.

He didn't want to sit there and pretend he was a selfless man, Jon had the shame of knowing three times in one night he had gotten off to you before all this happened. You were his best friend and in more ways then romantic did he love you, but Jon still knew he couldn't lie to himself about the way he looked and thought about you. All you'd see is your best friend trying to take advantage of your weaknesses to get you into his bed.

The crowd was immense as you all stood. People everywhere you turned and your quiet self had gotten lost and forgotten in the sea of social waves passing you by. You hated this dress, you hated how much makeup was painted on your face, you hated having to play nice when all you wanted to do was find a bed to cry in for how much you let your life turn into this.

The air was warm, too warm as so many bodies took up the space in the room and spoke with their warm breath increasing. How did no one else notice the heat? How hard it was becoming to breath in such a heavy fog. Heart racing more as you felt your lungs tighten, you needed to walk away. Find a corridor mostly empty and walk until there was an alcove isolated to collapse against.

Nothing of what you drank told you if you were sober, you couldn't sense it underneath the racing in your head which flooded your nerves. You hadn't wanted to come, you hadn't wished to face how you were ruining your second chance at having a partner all for the same repeating reason. Whatever rationale you could lie to yourself with this time, did not exist when it was Karl Tanner in the role of Ramsay.

You had said it, and couldn't take it back. Karl didn't say what had happened, he didn't care about any of you involved once Jon drove you away, but Ramsay would. If you couldn't fix things with Ramsay he would use it against you, and who knows how many people would abandon you after that comes out?

You were pathetic, you always were. He's never wanted you, he still doesn't and yet you were broaching two separate relationships you've ruined over someone who does not want you. As your head leaned against whatever surface you found yourself at, you felt the world spin even as you stood still against a stone support.

“Now tell me, love, who did you dress like such a whore for?” Opening your eyes, the world still spun while still as a statue as you looked at Ramsay. Standing before you with a narrowed expression you had seen in the seconds between what happened that night, and how hard he had slapped you with the rough back of his hand. “Speak up now. Did you let the Tyrells slut you up to try and beg for me back, or did you just want to tempt any man in here that you were walking around with a sign hanging against you, that you'd spread your legs for the first one who walked up to you with a cock?”

Shaking your head, your words slurred as they were forced you beyond the heart pounding stammer overtaking with your nerves. “You- you always wanted me to dress like this.. I was, I'm only trying to listen to what you told me..”

The chuckle was fake, but you were far too drunk to also pick up the more sinister echo which matched behind his eyes as he invaded your space. Grasping rough at your jaw he didn't let you flinch away too much from his hissing. “Such a poor memory, do you need me to repeat what I actually told you? That if I'm going to fuck you, you may as well start dressing like someone who my cock would actually get hard for.”

You were so stupid. He was always going to be mad at you. You couldn't imagine how angry he'd have been were he to have actually taken you to that restaurant in Torrhens Square. He'd have asked where you got that long, white dress, why it covered so much of your skin, and why you disobeyed him when he had told you to go to that specific store to buy the short, red one in the first place.

Trying to stammer out, “I- I'm sorry..” He just tilted your jaw up to force your eyes up at his darker ones now trailing down your frame. You read the words, what he wanted. He had taught you by now, but you shook your head as something unsettled bubbled in your chest. “Ramsay, there's other people-”

“Did I ask about other people?” Saying no, you tried to insist on finding an empty room but he leaned in more. “Did I say I was going to do this in private? You're lucky I don't leave you naked and covered in me, here so everyone can see what a real whore does in the dark.”

As drunk as you felt, you were still in your head enough to feel utterly humiliated. If you were caught now, you wouldn't ever be able to look the Starks in the eye. You'd just move out on the spot and return to Dragonstone, hide away from the world on your grim, dark girlhood home. Too slowly you tried to pull one of the silky sleeves down your shoulder but he took over, the fabric ripping as you tried to argue, “Ramsay, please this is Margaerys-”

Shoving your legs apart, he only raised an eyebrow. “So I know who to blame for turning my girlfriend into a walking cunt begging to be filled.”

No argument came against that one, you had none. Your mind was nowhere near sober enough to wonder if he was wrong. You just accepted it. You almost ruined this relationship because you couldn't keep your mouth shut in the worst moment, so it was your duty to let Ramsay punish you in whatever ways you always dreaded. The mood he was in, you doubted he would even care wasting a single second getting you even slightly wet.

When he used sex as a punishment, you weren't meant to enjoy it. That was how it worked.

It took you longer then normal to realize why he didn't do anything. Suddenly moving away from you, your slow mind hardly caught up to the fact that there were now three large figures slamming Ramsay against the wall. Trying to protest, “Wait- stop, he didn't do anything.”

It wasn't until one of them spoke did the blur in you vision focus enough to see a teeth grittingly angry Robb was on Ramsays left, now turning back towards you, as Theon took space up on Ramsays other side. Not recognizing until Robb was already talking, that Jon was in Ramsays face, keeping him pinned to the wall with only one hand. “Didn't do anything?” Robb calling your name with a confused anger, “Did you not hear a word he was saying to you?”

Theon piped up with anger clear of his own, “Or how he busted your face?”

Swallowing, you felt lightheaded and confused more then any of them. “I-” A slightly stumble trying to stand up straighter as if they hadn't already seen how drunk you were. “That was an accident, he didn't do anything.”

Ramsay was quick on the draw making intentional mocking eye contact with Jon, “See, bastard? I didn't do a thing. Our girl here is just a tad too slutty for her own good, needs a stern hand to put her in her place, doesn't she?”

The guys all started to speak, but you felt your eyes sting with tears. Shaking your head at him not to say it, but Jon captured his attention. Voice so low and rough it was but a husk teetering with something burning in rage. “Don't talk about her like you care about her.”

He smirked, as you felt your stomach twist. “Oh I care deeply, bastard. It's why I was just so angry, you see. I take her to bed, show her my love and in return all she does is-”

“Ramsay, please.”

You tried pleading with him not to, but it was too late, as soon as he started to speak it was too late to keep it contained. “Was that so hard? You remember my name here, but not when I'm inside you?” He had turned to make eye contact with Jon, nothing but a smugness in letting it fall free. “Imagine how much it ruined the mood, when I'm fucking her nice and rough and suddenly, more desperate then I've ever heard her ask for it, does she beg your name before she cums.”

But whoever was the first out of the three of them to look back to you in surprise, you didn't know. You had taken off so suddenly and so fast that none of them knew where you went. As it turned out, utter humiliation sobered a girl up, right quick.

You weren't sure the last time you had been here, likely too many years to be worth counting back to, but it was just as beautiful as you remembered. The white bark standing out against red leaves with a face carved into it as if watching over the North it stood within. Back against it as you used your shall to sit on, to try and not muddy up Margaerys dress, despite looking too many times at the no doubt expensive silk now ripped along your shoulder.

Long enough it kept your legs from the cold as you pulled your knees to your chest, forearms resting over them as you had long since stopped caring about the stain of tears on your cheeks. You were such an idiot. You had let your feelings for Jon ruin two relationships, and now he and likely everyone else knew about it.

What was more pathetic of a revelation then your best friend calling your name when having sex with their boyfriend, you weren't sure.

Enough time had passed to which your drunken fog begun to lift and a stressing headache wormed its way in to keep you sitting in the cold air hoping you could find the courage to get up. You had your phone, that was it. Maybe it would be enough, perhaps if you could pull yourself together long enough you'd be able to convince your father to let you stay on Dragonstone until you figured out what to do next with your life.

As long as you could find someone who could drive you to White Harbour, your father could send someone to come bring you the rest of the way. What other choice did you leave yourself?

Robb and Theon would think you were pathetic, Jon wouldn't want you anywhere near him after this, and thus your presence in the Starks home no longer was welcome. You hadn't called Jon wishing he'd come get you that day with Karl because of anything like that, you had done it on instinct. He was your best friend, he was the only one you wanted to come get you but now it must feel as if you were a manipulative snake.

By the time you heard footsteps, you almost flinched to get up and apologize for being here, but it was in fact the rumble of Ned Stark coming to ease you from fleeing. “It's alright, no ones asking you to leave.” Muttering quietly why he assumed that was what you were planning, he without any care sat down next to you on the rock keeping elevated enough that a hand wrapped around your back and sat soothingly on your upper arm. “So you're telling me you weren't sitting here worried you were going to have to leave here and go back home?”

Looking away somewhat ashamed, your arms crossed more over the top of your knee. An uninspiring mutter, “I presume you know what happened.” Only a glance slightly to the side showed you his nod, and your head dropped into your arms. “Suppose everyone in the North knows by now.”

However, the man only chuckled. “Far from. I heard what happened, but put an end to any scene they were about to make before most noticed anything happened. No need to make a spectacle out of you after everything you've been through.”

Ned did not hear the first try, so you lifted your head and repeated your words as new tears gently fell once more. “I'm sorry, truly I am. I wasn't trying to ruin anything or manipulate anyone.” Asking where you had gotten that idea, you paused. Not yet clear enough from all the wine could you come up with but a shrug of a shoulder. “None of it was on purpose. It just happened. First with Karl, now with Ramsay. Two relationships I ruined by saying something I didn't even realize I had said until it was all over anyways.”

You were glad it was Ned Stark listening to this, not sure your own father would dare care to listen to anything even remotely close to a sexual topic like this, but he listened with the care he gave all his children, but to you. “None of us can control how we feel, sweet girl.”

The shrug and nod you gave didn't really indicate much, but he understood in your state that was all you could offer. The quiet of the night, this place far enough from the crowd not even the muffled nightlife of the gala could be heard. Only in that quiet did you say it, “You can tell him I'll move out.” Humming in question, you clarified. “Jon, I'm sure hes mad at me. Likely doesn't want to speak to me after that, you can tell him I'll move out. He bought a lot of my stuff, I won't take it with me he can sell it or whatever he wants. It was his money.”

Ned didn't say anything for a moment, and you had almost took it as a defeated acceptance that he would indeed deliver your last message to your best friend. But he didn't stay quiet, he only spoke in a quiet tone, pulling you closer to his side running his hand up and down your cold arm. “Tell me, if my son was angry with you, why when I last saw him, was he outside the hall worried sick that you had taken off drunk as you were.”

You struggled to envision it, but maybe it was the aforementioned drunkenness impeding your intelligence more then usual. “Because he's just a good person. Simple. Always has been, even now when I don't deserve it.”

It seemed whatever he had gleaned from such a comment had cemented an idea in his head. “Here's what we're going to do. We're going to get up, bring you back to the apartment. The boys are all busy right now hosting in my absence so you'll have it to yourself. We'll get you cleaned up and you won't worry about what comes next until you've slept the rest of this off.”

Truthfully, you were too tired should any argument have ever even existed within you.

Coming back down to the winding Gala late into the night, Jon noticed his father gesturing for him to come over to speak alone. Your name coming instantly out of his mouth, his father swiftly placated such worry. “She's alright. I brought her back up to the apartment to sleep tonight off.” Nodding, Jon stood tense as anything unsure as to how to breach the subject or if he should when his father did it first for him. “Whatever you're going to say to her Jon, go easy. She's upset and she's convinced herself you're mad enough at her she should move out.”

Face twisting in a mix of anger he could not fix from the night and a worry that everyone around you had let you get so intoxicated you spun a story such as that about him in your fears. “Did you tell her about-”

“I think she would take it better coming from you.” The two men stood for another quiet moment when he stepped towards him. A hand resting on his shoulder with a concern Jon knew was for both parties, himself and you. “And Jon, don't ambush her right away.”

Both nodded, his father leaving Jon to think. He knew he was right, he couldn't lay all his cards out on the table yet. Between Karl and Ramsay, they had done a number on your self worth. You'd jump in an instant to what Jon wished to say, if you thought it was a way to make it better. He needed it, only if you still wanted it once you felt safe in your own home again.

Strange, you had no dream and yet you were lulled into the world of the wake with something gentle along your hair. Not realizing until your eyes fluttered open that the morning sun was shining through your window. Jon was sat on your bed facing you, a hand running soothingly along your now loose hair.

Were your brain not about to explode from pain, you might have jumped up to apologize right away. But in your state, Jon continued to run his hands through the strands of your hair as he rasped quietly and comfortingly. “You're lucky to be alive. If I let Ghost come in here last night like he wanted too, he'd have cuddled himself into your side so much you'd have suffocated.”

The laugh was weak as you sat up, Jon not moving his hand from you as he tucked some of your hair behind your ear to more then cup your cheek and jaw. Your eyes heavy as you found a more shredded voice. “I could imagine worst ways to go.”

His grey eyes were as wide, bright and yet soft as ever. As if the night before was not an utter catastrophe you had brought upon your friendship, but the ship was steady on the water, you dared not yet rock the boat, listening to him with a warmth at his low rasp deep this early in your time awake. “You scared me last night, darling. Running off like that.”

Neither of you noticed how easily he slipped back into calling you that, or how you hadn't taken notice in any negative manner whatsoever. Sitting more against the headboard behind you, you were glad Ned Stark had insisted you wear something actually comfortable to bed instead of the ripped reminder of a terrible night. Your insides were warm as much as your front so close to Jon was warm from the proximity alone. “I'm the sorry one. About everything. Getting drunk, causing a scene..and..for-”

Mercy was what Jon showed you, but for why you couldn't put together. “You didn't do anything wrong. Ramsay's been barred from attending any Northern run event, and he's not allowed within two hundred miles of you.” Your brows narrowed in confusion, Jon giving you a gentle laugh in return, still toying innocently with your hair. “My father works fast when he's mad. I didn't think anyone could've been more mad at Ramsay last night then me, but he came back after bringing you home and went right to your Uncle to have a restraining order filed.” Asking why, Jon almost shook his head in a manner that was only amused by you. “You're like a daughter to my father, if he wouldn't let someone treat Arya or Sansa like that, he wasn't going to stand by and let Ramsay do it to you.”

Nodding, it felt strange that you weren't upset by it. Perhaps it was too early to feel it, but much was hard to care about when Jon was this warm and looking at you with such wide grey eyes pouring into your heart and soul as if he belonged there. “Jon..I really am sorry..”

But he only laughed a little, sliding his hand behind your head to pull you forward, Jon leaned enough to press his lips to your forehead. Murmuring against it, “Don't take off like that again, and you have no reason to be. Now come on,” Prompting you to slowly begin standing up, Jon rested a supporting hand at your lower back, pressing your unsteady self to his side enough he could rasp in your ear. “I'll make you something you can actually stomach.”

You didn't understand why Jon was making it so easy. For days now, things had been much like it had been before Ramsay ever entered the picture. Your days were normal, settled back into working without distractions and it all seemed as if the apartment was smoothly running.

Part of you wondered why it felt though, as if they were all waiting for something. You could only hope that it was not for you to fall off once more, you knew thus far your record had not been on your side but you hoped they had more faith then next to none. You wanted to start over this time, you were given that proper chance and you didn't want to waste it no matter what people were or were not presuming about you.

It seemed the restraining order was applied to those speaking of him as well. Margaery had not brought up anything, and when you had gone over to her house to profusely apologize over the dress she only wrapped an arm around your waist to drag you in, dismissing, “I have others.”

Trying not to fear this all had made you look as weak as you felt, but for how close you came to ruining things, Jon was the one easing that fear away. He was the only one who you didn't feel as if were watching and waiting for something you didn't understand, he treated you as the same as you two had been in your best of times. Before Ramsay Bolton, before Karl Tanner.

Things were normal enough between you that you, he and Ghost all went on a longer hike through the wolfswood for the first time in well over a year together. The warmer weather this time around was not quite what many would call warm in the south, considering heavier long sleeves were still the most necessary outerwear at the minimum, but it was not yet cold enough that spending so many hours outside wasn't preferable to ones health.

Small rolling hills led to cliff sides where the main river poured out in small divets of pooled lakes like a small waterfall, hardly anything for one who grew up on an island, but for here it was the most amount of a body of water you could get too within a days walk. Perhaps before you'd have worried about the quiet, but no longer did it feel stifling or on purpose.

Jon used to be the one person you could be your more naturally quiet self around and have it not be uncomfortable, he was the same way. The less talkative of the group of you, but together that silence was never filled only because the quiet as awkward. Jon would instinctively grab your hand to help hoist you up a steeper climb and push you forward with a hand on your lower back without sharing a single word and neither of you thought twice again.

Or how when you three had returned, Jon once again gently guided you to your shared bathroom first, quiet in your ear as it was late enough Robb and Theon were asleep. “You shower first, I'll get something started.” And without any more question, when you emerged, you took over what he had been doing and by the time his shower was done you both had a very late meal but in the comfortable presence of only you two.

For a while it went on as such, but you couldn't help those two same thoughts. Was everyone really just waiting for you to combust once more, and more importantly to you, why Jon hadn't even come close to bringing up what happened.

It went completely unspoken, but you didn't know why. Your friendship felt as strong as ever, but for what reason? You had completely violated his trust and it was as if he would rather forget, but it didn't work that way. He would've known you weren't to forget so easily, why was he? Were you lingering once more on the edges of feelings which Jon wished to pretend he never learned about? If so, why was he even more gentle and affectionate then before?

None of it made sense in your head, but you truly did not want to ruin things, not now. Not after being given another chance to keep him in your life. So you stayed quiet, didn't speak a word of it for as long as you could withhold the anxiety and nerves festering from your brain into entering your heart.

It was one evening, you both looked so much like you did as teenagers, sitting back against his bed, both too lazy to bother moving things around his room for a better set up, so your laptop was dragged in his room instead to watch something on there. Later into the night, the apartment was settled and only you two remained awake, but the mixture was dangerous for your subconscious.

His room always cozy and warm, and so was Jon naturally heated in his blood to never feel cold around and the dark from only a single lamp on his desk other then the screen, it all lulled you into relaxing a little too instinctively. You without realizing, allowed your head to rest on his shoulder, but Jon without asking you to move, stiffening up uncomfortably, or even hesitating, adjusted his position in order to wrap his arm behind you. Resting at your waist and tugging you firmly into his side as that same hand now ran lightly up and down your waist to hip and back.

Your- his shirt on you, rising slightly each time which his hand kept brushing your bare skin sending silent shivers along the surface. More and more did the film fade away, until you found a sleep more warm and soothing then you had in weeks.

Jon was caught between the concepts. Slowly shifting things as to not disturb you too much, Jon moved everything but the two of you off his bed, before turning to watch you carefully. The last time you fell asleep in his bed, it was in far more innocent times then what ran unspoken between you both now. He didn't want you to feel pressured, but Jon knew you were feeling the air between you different, and he did not wish to return to when it felt otherwise.

It was heavy and electric, but neither of you were such forward seducers to act upon it so brazenly. But, Jon still knew such feelings were there. So, instead of gently carrying you to your room and tucking you into your bed, Jon made a risky choice. Slowly helping you lay down on your side, Jon ran a hand over the hair at the side of your head, ensuring you hadn't stirred awake. Across the room, Jon turned his light off, and opening his curtains a slight bit to let some of the moonlight guide his vision.

On one end by the foot of the bed, the slumbering white ball of fur called Ghost slept soundly as you did, as if failing his guard duty to keep you safe laying only feet from him. But as Jon carefully climbed back onto his bed, he laid on his side to face you.

He watched at first, only watched. The peace in your face there was unlike the past years as tormenting figures appeared in and out of your life. Never did Jon presume his place, he was your best friend and he refused to act as if that made him obligated to your feelings. But it wasn't the same now, you had been keeping your own locked up just as, if not more tightly away from the world. Only coming out twice.

Jon knew now that was what Tanner was trying to tell him that day. That started the fight the morning he came to get you. You had spoken Jons name in the heat of the encounter, and then did it once more months later with Ramsay. He didn't want you to think you should stay here with him, but Jon also refused to allow you to push this all away in favour of lessening your value, to running to the next horrid man.

For now, as Jons hand ran up and down your arm, did you shift closer, and he spared no time in pulling your front into his chest. Meekly, your slumbering hands reached up, grabbing the edges of his shirt as if begging him to keep you there. And as he found a home to sleep in your hair and you in his torso, only quiet was found.

If you had one thing you needed to accomplish that day, it was to ask. You had to, even if you didn't like the answer, it was no longer appropriate to hide such wonders when he knew what you had done. But, part of you wished he wouldn't make it so difficult to be blunt about it. You had clearly fallen asleep watching the movie, and woken up in his warm, gentle embrace tucked into his chest. It felt right, and it also meant it felt unfair.

Jon should only show you such affection if he understood your mind had not moved on yet, if he wished to pull away then that was how it would have to be, but hiding your worry about it was not conducive to your dynamic anymore. But gods he made it so hard to get to it. Not even realizing you weren't alone in the waking world, Jon rasped in your ear so thick from the early morning it was just a heavy husk of a Northern accent slurring together. “Too early to think this much, darling.”

You breathed out a small smile, almost swearing you could feel him smile in your hair in return. Hardly loud enough to be heard by any not directly as close as Jon, you whispered back not yet yelling go of your fingertips toying with his shirt. “Not for how long I've been awake.” Oh that deep chuckle so close to your ear was deathly.

One of his hands around your hip and waist shifted up to run smoothing over your hair, slightly raking through the strands to pull a relaxing in your muscles against him. “Alright, why don't you wake me up by telling me what's going on inside here.” This thumb leaving it's touch to lightly tap at your head as if to indicate what he meant.

You had told yourself, ask it today. It came out as light, strained and breathless as if felt. “Are you never going to bring up what I did?” Instead of the hesitation you feared and worried, instead came the same soothing nature as he pulled you a bit closer.

Taking his own time to answer without making you worry of the passing moments to do so. “You mean when you called my name out in bed with Ramsay, or when you did the same thing with Tanner?” Your frozen nature must have given your shock away. “Wasn't difficult to put together once I knew the truth.”

Your voice muffled by his torso, but you were almost emotional at how grateful you felt he hadn't yet made you leave his warm comfort. “Aren't you mad?” Asking for what, you did not sound any more confident. “I violated your trust. Twice. Then hid it from you and lied about it.”

Once more his chuckle was utterly unfair, and his voice rasped so deep as his hands almost held you a bit tighter if you weren't imagining things. “Would you like to know what I was doing when you called my name out with Ramsay?” Not a clue how blind sighted you were about to feel, you shook your head before noticing for certain that time he held you tighter. “I was scrolling through all those voice notes you send to me, while my other hand was around my cock.”

Blood within you flooded with something warm like a burn, and only as you let a shaking breath out did Jon begun to somewhat ran his hand back to the side of your head, thumb much more firmly tilting you to suddenly meet his eyes, dark normally in colour but now the grey appeared closer to sinking into a black. “Why?”

Far too handsome for his own good when he laughed deeply, knowing your breath hitched as he leaned forward. Only to nudge your nose with his, letting his trace down yours. It seemed if your question was to be honest, he'd let his be as well. “Because I wanted to have you in my bed, instead of hearing you in yours with another man.”

Lips parting slightly, your eyes were wide trying to contain how both confusing yet unrealistic that sounded so early. And yet there was not a shred of lies or doubt within his gaze, only something far too dark yet affectionate that you wished to melt into. “But..you- why not say anything before I even met Ramsay..”

Thumb running firmly over your cheek, Jon had yet to pull away from you the rest of the way. Your mind trying to tell you otherwise, that you were imagining any other feeling. Jon though, was not you, and did not care about hiding it seemed now that the topic had been broached. “You finally had the courage to leave Tanner, I wasn't going to ambush you about my feelings when you needed someone to just be there for you. No matter how much I wanted you, still want you.”

Shifting you both every so sightly, Jon moved so you lay more on your back, and he partially still on his side, but somewhat hovered over you. Now looking at you with those bright eyes, curls all still pulled back from the night before. The hand on you cheek turned much more selfish in not pulling away from where it roamed. Tucking some of your hair behind your ear, before once more nudging your nose with his almost as it to tempt you with how close his lips would be at such a motion.

It felt like such an utterly girlish and child like question to ask, “Would all you want it to be is just..sex?”

Jons chuckle once more was deep, laced with something dark that should have set your nerves off and yet on him it only lit the fire within your bloodstream to flow. Muttering close enough to your lips you felt his breath dance across your skin as he cupped your cheek and jaw more to his control. “I want everything, all of it, as long as it's with you. I always have.”

Looking back up to his eyes, Jon looked you over carefully for a moment but in the heavy silence, slowly took over in seeking a path. Glancing between you and your lips, Jon was so close to closing that gap only as long as it took for your hands to so very willingly reach up to grasp at his shoulders and part of the back of his neck. The moment your own eyes slipped closed, you barley needed to move a single breath forward, for Jon to close the gap between his lips and yours.

Jons lips were softer then you could have dreamed of, guiding you in an instant as if kissing you was what he had been waiting for all his life, and not for a second did he waste time. Pushing up to hover over you properly, his hand at your face slid to cup the back of your neck, keeping you pressed to his lips with no escape. Not urgent, nor greedy, and without the incessant ask for you to get to it. Jon kissed you as if he enjoyed kissing you.

Which in truth, was foreign. Men didn't spend time kissing you unless they wanted to fuck, they didn't enjoy kissing, you had always thought that was the case with your limited experience. But Jon deepened his kiss as if the idea of leaving you yet was devastating, as if he sought salvation and he found it through kissing you rougher and needier. Small sounds left your chest, hands tight on Jons shoulders he begun to gently bite at your bottom lip.

Small as if only a nibble, it grew more and more of a bite until he tore a gasp from you, which was his sly plan. Using the opportunity to glide his tongue into your mouth, he brushed up against your tongue as if guiding you to explore him back all the same. Hardly did you, but hovering above you on the bed Jon was in control regardless. Stealing your very breath and drawing up small whines of need before he would pull back to only a deep kiss.

But then he'd bite and once more the entire process repeated but his need grew each and every routine. Harsher did he kiss you as your legs slid, bent by the knees you let them sit at Jons side when he tore from your lips. The saliva between you snapping as he spared no time in running his kiss along your ear and down to your neck. Lips and tongue setting the stage as he suddenly would bite down.

A gasp clawed from within, back arching up into his touch as Jon suddenly with a growl in his own chest begun to then suck at where his teeth indented into your sensitive skin, forcing the colours to turn to a tingling bruise of his making, swiftly marking down and down your neck until he reached the collar of his shirt. Hoisting himself back up, capturing your lips once more deep and breath taking did he pull back.

Both hands pressed beside your head as he looked down at you with a darker, more serious gaze. “Tell me if I'm taking this too far.” But you only shook your head, trying to desperately seek his kiss but Jon gently pushed you back down flat against his bed. That time his brows furrowing as if seeking something in your own need. “I mean it, we don't have to do this, any of this. Whatever you want we can take our time.”

It was a heart pounding need stealing your lungs away, and only a scrap of voice drenched in desire was left. Without even the means of seduction, it came off as better then any temptress could possible use her wiles towards Jon with. “We've already imagined it separately, but now I want to know what being with my best friend really feels like.”

Jons eyes fluttered closed, a low sound grunting inside to maintain but he surged back to cup the back of your head to leave a harsh, biting kiss to your needing lips before tearing away and back down the already sensitive trail he left on your neck. Kneeling up a bit for the leverage, Jon grasped the ends of his shirt on your body, looking up dark and face twisted so seriously to your expression. The single second it took for you to nervously nod yes, Jon had yanked it up off of you and tossed it far as if offended it covered you up for so long.

Staring at your heaving chest, Jon almost tore up in a glare had you not known any better. “You were with me all night and weren't wearing anything under this?” Your head shook no as the air shivered along your skin. Eyes closing again to sigh much more deeply Jon let a a hand reach up. Rough and calloused was striking against the soft skin of your chest, but it was as if his hands were made to fit with your breasts perfectly. Kissing back to your neck, now just as greedy at your collarbones, Jon spared no shame in only grasping at your other breast for the time it took for his lips to reach it. One hand pinching the small, pink bud of your breast to stiffen it up for his hand to twist at, chest arching up more for him while his teeth sunk into your other breast. Biting the same as his hand twisted the other and your hips writhed desperately at the feeling.

Trying to reach for his own shirt, Jon used his free hand to snatch yours, slamming it down beside your head and intertwining his fingers with yours, without ever easing up the treatment sparking such a burning coil within. Gasping his name, Jon bit and sucked at your breast as his hand groped a tightness that in another mans touch would've hurt. But Jon kept you on the precipice of pleasure and just enough pain to keep you pliable for him.

Pulling from you, Jons eyes scoured his work and the trail of saliva left on your breasts no doubt you could feel in the cooler morning air. His hands were slow as he reached your the top of your pants, but the second you didn't blink or flinch but slightly raised your hips Jon stared at every inch of skin pulling them from you revealed to him.

Tossing them away, Jon ran his hands up your calves as they once more parted for either side of his body, Jon held at your thighs. Spread for him and nothing hiding the rest, you had been next to him for hours this bare under the basest of clothes and yet he was only finding out now.

But he allowed you to lean up, drag his own shirt up and over his head. Grasping the back of your neck as you leaned up towards him, Jon licked back into your mouth much more freely groaning as he hoisted one thigh up at the side of his hip. Only the lower and lower down your body Jons lips and kiss explored the more your heart begun to pound irregularly, something unsure in your head making you sit up away from him when you realized. “What are you doing?”

Jons eyes were wide, almost as if stunned at your sudden confusion. “Wh- I'd like to taste you, darling-” Interrupting with a short and high pitched ask of why, Jon almost breathed a laugh. Leaning up to better meet your now on edge posture sitting up on your elbows. “Because I've always dreamed of it, because I really want you to feel good.”

You had no way of knowing how much you were ruining him, how hard you were making his cock still hidden under the jeans he fell asleep in. “No, I mean why would you ever want to do that?”

There seemed to be a disconnect. The ease in which Jon was so sure of the ways he wished to explore you, and you not at all grasping why Jon would want to do things Karl and Ramsay told you men absolutely hated. Tilting his head, he ran his fingertips along your cheek some. Sighing through his nose trying to collect his thoughts, low and rasping he explained to you. “Because if your lips taste that good alone, I'm dying to know how you taste between your legs. And I promise it will feel good for you.”

But you shook your head. “No it-” Sighing out of something unsure, you shifted up a bit more as Jon, returned to hovering somewhat over you. His hand never leaving your touch as it ran along your gentle cheek. Collecting your thoughts, ignoring how your neck and breasts stung with the same bruising from his mouth, and yet feeling lightheaded at how much you like the feeling. “Men only do that stuff in videos, none of you really want to do that.”

You didn't understand why Jon was looking at you that way. Confused and if you weren't mistaken, almost a bit heartbroken. Asking roughly and short in tone, “What else did those two say. About sex, about what people do together?”

That was easy, they told you consistent things. Which was why you were so confused as if it was the first time anyone was telling Jon something men were all supposed to have agreed on. Anything a man does to you, you owe him back, be it between your legs or getting on your knees. All that romantic stuff was for movies and all the stuff men did in porn to pleasure women was just that, for porn. They didn't like it, they both were just actors doing a job.

He had to look way for a moment, Jon couldn't look at the genuine, almost innocent expression on your face as you said all of this. Hands curling onto a fist as they rested beside your body in the sheets but he shook his head. Jaw clenching trying to keep it together before rasping out, “I need you to listen to me. And I don't mean to hurt your feelings, but you need to hear this. Karl and Ramsay were just using you for sex. They didn't care how you felt or if you liked it, they wanted to fuck you and all they cared about was that you let them.”

He was right, you didn't really feel good inside your heart hearing it. But it paired so oddly with the way he was looking at you with something you were a bit scared to admit you were hoping looked like love. Your voice was as week and unsure. “I..I just wanted to do this right this time..Ramsay used to always leave to go see another girl.. so I started just doing what he wanted because I thought he was losing interest because I was doing it wrong.”

Were you not laying gently out and naked on his bed, Jon may have found the anger in him to lash out at that. Unable to stop thinking that you knew, you knew Ramsay saw other girls and he wouldn't put it passed Karl to do the same. You were someone he loved, but in a way Jon knew he had his work cut out for him with you. You had a lot to learn about your own pleasure.

Leaning into you, Jon forced you to lay back down against his bed. Capturing your lips in a quick but biting kiss, muttering into them as he pulled back. “Will you let me prove you wrong? Will you let me taste you? Make you feel good like you deserve?” Trying to ask what about him and Jons eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head desperate for his mouth to just drink between your legs already. A growl deep in his words. “I promise, darling. This is as much for me, as it is for you.”

Nodding with a hesitant, “Please..” Jon knew he had to control his need. He'd keep you here pinned to his mouth another time, but right now he needed to show you why you deserved this kind of pleasure and why he wanted it so badly. “I trust you, Jon.”

His kiss was much softer then, muttering “I'll take care of you.”

Moving down, Jon hoisted one of your thighs up over his shoulder, nudging your other open wider on his bed as you shook. Feeling his warm breath, Jon pressed a gentle kiss to your clit. Jumping slightly in his tough, he reached out to grasp your hips, gently shushing you. “It's alright, I've got you.”

Each subsequent kiss was slowly followed by his tongue gently licking at the bundle of nerves, building the fire within up and up within you but keeping you perched on the edge of an orgasm, already feeling somewhat embarrassed by how quickly he worked you to it. Jon however, hardly cared. Sucking it more before running his tongue tightly against it, his eyes closed you felt his facial hair burn between you, gasping out at the roughness contrasted to his mouth licking and nibbling at your clit. But yet, it was another gentle kiss which pushed you. Arching off the bed, Jon grasped your free leg and threw it over his shoulder before yanking you down the bed.

Tongue hot and wet, licking flat down your folds to your core and were his eyes not closed he'd have them rolling onto the back of his head at the taste. If possible, you came quicker. Barley managing to drink every bit of wetness you gifted him between your legs, Jon heard you cry his name with breathless pleas as if this was even a fraction of how long he'd keep you there. Licking flat, he ran his tongue just barley inside of your cunt as you let go once more.

You had not realized how terribly worked up you felt until your orgasm let free within Jons tasting mouth as he grunted against you. Drawing back up to your clit he let those sparks of twisting need feel overwhelmed a bit more before kissing up your mound and to your stomach. Your mind a mess, not noticing really what he was doing now as your eyes closed and ringing in your ears from something so burning so addictingly inside your core.

By the time Jon surged upwards, he gently hooked your hip at his thigh, leaning to kiss you again, your hands winding behind his neck. A gentle smile came over him as he pulled away, “I know it was a lot, but tell me, did you enjoy it?” Nodding, still catching your breath, he smiled brighter. A single kiss to your lips. “Good, because we're going to do that longer and longer each time from now on. I want you to feel as good as I do. Now, we don't have to do anything more,”

Just as Jon trailed off, you felt a shiver run down your spine and arms into your chest. Feeling his cock gently run along your soaked core, you hadn't even been in the head space to notice when he took everything else off of himself. It was overwhelming, being bare against Jon who matched in his bed like this, but you couldn't feel the nerves normally present. You looked up at his bright grey eyes and closed yours to kiss him.

Hardly pulling back to whisper, “Please, Jon. I want to feel you inside me, I've wanted to for so long..”

Dropping his head in your neck, he muttered just as low and rough. “I know, darling. I know.” You read the unspoken of his own desire matching so perfectly for so long yet only now were about to join in a harmony.

Sliding inside of you slowly, Jon growled without removing himself from your neck at how smoothly you took his entire cock, but yet the tensing of nails in his skin at your sharp gasp. He stretched you so thick, you felt woozy thinking of his size, of how deep he was. A shameful thought would your hand even be able to wrap around him.

But he slid deep, and never sped up. Slowly pulling almost all the way out, Jon slowly pushed back in. Your cunt soaking around him, but only small sounds shared in the air other then the obscene sound each time his cock sunk deep as you were utterly wet around him. To either man before him, this pace would be unbearable and awful. But with Jon, you felt as shaking in need clenching around him as he throbbed inside of you.

Pulling up, his eyes hooded and his lips parted, he kissed you with a sloppiness that you matched, each slow thrust of his cock somehow less urgent then the gentle, slow manner he kissed your lips. Every step of the way you felt embarrassed how you came so easily, but Jon never stopped for one. Until you would cry out from too much, Jon wouldn't leave.

Slowly letting his cock push deep inside of you, licking his way into your mouth to match such a pace, but he kept going. Throbbing deeply as you let a leg wrap somewhat around him, Jon groaned your name just barley against your lips. As unexpected as your end was found with him inside you, Jon almost surprised himself with how suddenly he finished. Throbbing inside of your soaking, tight walls, Jon suddenly buried his head in your hair, pulling you to his neck as he pressed tightly against you into the bed.

Spilling inside of you, you felt his seed was somehow almost hot. Thick that you felt strange taking so much of it so deep but you let your other leg find your ankle around his back as Jon almost grasped at your waist to keep you steady as he slowly filled you with his thick, pouring seed. Your heart feeling light in your chest, but as Jon pulled you both up to meet your lips something in his passion told you he felt the same floating feeling.

Though you did notice, how he had yet to lose any shred of how hard his cock was inside of you despite cumming mere seconds ago. And when Jon didn't pull out, only sped his pace up just the slightest as he once more thrusted in and out of your cunt, his forehead leaned against your as you wrapped up in each other.

It was slow, and not urgent, and still very much brand new to a strange degree but Jons cock gentle inside of you was the first time you both felt as if you finally fit into each others life properly.

It was some hours later when you both properly emerged to the world. Only after Jon had lost his control when trying to clean you both up, and pressed you against the wall of the shower. Holding your hands above your head against the tile as he slid inside of you again and again. Only when the water turned cold did he pull out.

Each time a little faster, a little rougher, and a little more greedy for what you finally let him sink his cock deep inside as if you both desperately needed it. Which you did, only, your hearts also followed such a connection that time.

The topic though, was not at all addressed in the apartment until that evening when Robb and Theon came home. Jon had currently been hovering by you looking into the fridge as you both decided what you would cook together. His hand so freely pressing against your lower back in such an intimate stance for two best friends.

Theon had commented first, much to how quickly it made you playfully roll your eyes. “So, are we turning your room into a nursery, or have you two not moved everything into his yet?”

Robb's laugh was louder then Theons, but nowhere near as free and amused as Jons as he joined. Pulling your head close to press a kiss to the side of your hair, did it clue in. They had all been waiting for something to happen.

You were just the last one to find out it was not for anything morose. Theon and Robb had simply put bets as to how long it would take for Jon to finally make a move. Though, considering both of them handed the silver to Jon instead, your realized no matter what changed between the love you felt for your best friend, you still lived with three brothers who all were very unaffected by this new development.

Theon once more asking in jest about the nursery thing, and in truth, Jon had left you entirely flustered as he muttered both into your ear and loud enough for the others to hear, “We have a lot of years to make up for, shouldn't take long.” Your hanging head and deep sigh had all three laugh at your expense that time.

Some things it seemed, would always stay the same between you four.

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

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s0ft-d3cay · 4 months

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Worrying Thoughts of You

Mike Schmidt x Male Reader | I don't know if you're all seeing the pattern, but I need cuddles with a pretty boy. Side note, I have a cute fun fic with this adorable doe eyed man coming up soon as well as a new charater! Anyway, I hope you all enjoy!!!

Warnings: reverse comfort, established relationship, they cuddle, reader is eepy(me), mentions of being overworked, light mentions of longing and loneliness, they worry for each other, mentions of knowing each other during childhood, Y/N is used

WC: 695

Mike, still wide awake in bed staring up at his Nebraska poster. Another late night for his partner Y/N, his was often more demanding than Mike’s security guard shifts. Sighing he turns to his digital clock, 4:14am, reflected back in thin green lines. A chill of unease runs through the man, the unease soon morphs to dread for his partner, Mike cuddles to his pillow as he awaits for Y/N.

Exhaustion claws it way through Y/N as he parked his car outside Mike’s house, eyes barley staying open as he gets out and walks to the front door. Quietly opening the door, sneaking his way to his boyfriend's room. The man’s tired eyes flash over Mike as he enters, seeing him awake and waiting for him. Y/N’s gaze glosses over in guilt and worry.

"Y/N?" The doe eyed man mumbles out, sitting up in bed. Wordlessly, Y/N takes his shoes off and climbs over the covers. Laying between Mikes leg as he cuddles his torso, arms around the man’s back, nuzzling his cheek to his sternum. Mike’s arm instinctively hold his boyfriend closer to himself, his other moving his hand up to play with the other man’s hair. Y/N visibly relaxes, his heavy eyelids closed before he answers back. "I think I might need some early morning cuddles for a while."

"You can have all the cuddles you want, just rest baby." Mike softly replied, watching Y/N with a loving gaze. His earlier worry now replaced with familiarity and warmth, that buzz of silence he always found comforting in. The man below him hums back in acknowledgment.

"I don’t think I have the energy to even joke back right now…but I have one last question for you before we both pass out." He utters in a low, sleepy tone, almost a whisper it's so quiet. Mike pulls the man closer at his request, his own voice mirroring his boyfriends. "And what would that be?"

"Why are you still awake right now?" Y/N gently asked, the words warm like coffee. No accusatory or worry filled, instead it was in genuine curiosity for the man. Mike knew without his boyfriend they’d both be getting no sleep. Selfishly he wanted to brush off the question as sleep, Y/N’s hair made him think otherwise. The unique feeling had a way of softening him up.

"Worrying about you…I can’t just lay here and sleep knowing you out and working yourself to the ground. And I…can’t sleep without you." He answers in a hush, leaning back against his pillow. "So do you…" Y/N replied, a tired giggle following suit as he continued.

"I know you worry about everything else except yourself. You need some of that worry too, can’t be strong for other people when you’re exhausting yourself." The man’s arms tightened around Mike’s body as he nuzzled his cheek to the other man’s stomach. At the mention of his own exhaustion, Mike’s eyes began to flutter closed his lips softly grow to a bashful smile. His breaths growing deeper and steady as he lets himself embrace the edges of sleep.

His hand playing with Y/N’s hair slows, he whispers back. "What did I do to deserve someone like you?" That question makes Y/N grin, indulging the pleasant warmth between the two. Allowing the sentimental moment to linger before his drowsy brain responses for him. "You were nice to me and gave me snacks when we were kids. And like an outdoor cat, I always come back for food…and those amazing head scratches."

Rumbles of giggles make their way out of Mike, the image of Y/N as a cat now permanently stuck in his mind, his smile now widening. “Ah, so you came back here because you needed someone to look after, spoil you with snacks, and baby you in bed?” He questions in his slurry whisper.

“The babying and spoiling are an added bonus…and I may have grown to start liking your presence at some point.” Y/N answers, adding a little heartfelt confession as he drifts to unconsciousness. “I also might have grown to like your presence around here too…a lot.” Mike says, following his boyfriend to a peaceful sleep.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the rights of any of the characters I write about, all the rights go to their respective creators.

#male reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt fluff #fnaf x male reader #mike schmidt x male reader #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x y/n #mike schmidt x you #Seraphimsbrainwritings

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agentwhiskeysdarlin · 11 months

Text

Kinktober Day 4

Roleplay with Joel Miller

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Rating: NSFW 18+ (minors dni)

Warnings: reader wears some lingerie, oral (male receiving & briefly female receiving), one spanking, p in v sex, rough sex, unprotected sex, reader makes a joke about Joel’s mustache, the cutest fluffy fluff, I love reader and Joel’s dynamic so so much in this

Word Count: 2.2k

Author’s Notes: This fic was so much fun to write I can’t lie. At first I was unsure about it but by the end of writing it I loved it so much. Plus Joel’s fist appearance during my Kinktober!!! I hope you all enjoy this fun, sexy and slightly cheesy fic!!

Kinktober Masterlist

ao3 link coming soon ish

Your eyes ran over yourself in the mirror. Your smirk would put the Cheshire Cat to shame, as you took in the little number you were wearing. It had been entirely too perfect. Along with the day you had been handed on a silver platter. The only downside, were the heels that waited on you to slip your feet into them. They were perfect to complete the look, but you were dreading having to wear them, for the most part. Your see through night gown, that barley covered the important bits, was dark as night and lacy. You had shrugged a robe over your shoulders, that was only slightly longer, and just as scandalous. It too was black, with little red detailing at the bottom, and at the end of the sleeve tying together with a red ribbon. The heels matched the red perfectly, and with a slightly nervous breath, you slipped them on. Just as you did, there was a knock at your door, and you smirked. You made your way to the front door and opened it, only to be met with the most handsome man you had ever laid eyes on.

“Pardon me ma’am, uh I received a call…”

“Yes yes it was me! Come on in um…” you moved out of the way, and he came in, tool bag in hand.

“Joel Miller, ma’am,” he stuck out his hand, but his eyes were glued on yours.

You couldn’t help the chuckle and smirk, as you took his hand, and told him your name.

“You said the pipes in the kitchen had burst?”

“Oh yes, and I know you’re primarily a contractor, but I was told you were the best handyman in the area.”

You put on your best innocent eyes, bating your eyelashes for extra affect. You even let your hand gently rest on his bicep.

“Well that’s awful nice ma’am. I am a contractor, mostly, but I do other things as well.”

You smirked, your pulse jumping at his comment.

“Well perfect! Follow me then.”

You made sure to swish your hair, and swing your hips, as you lead him to the kitchen. You made every move as seductive and fluid as possible.

“I turned the water off, because it was getting everywhere. I tried to clean up the best I could.”

“You did the right thing. I’ll take a look.”

He gave you a nod and you smiled as you watched him carefully.

“Do you need anything else Mr. Miller?”

“Just call me Joel, and no ma’am I don’t reckon.”

“Well, Joel, you just let me know if you do. I’ll be close,” you gave him a wink before turning and heading out of the kitchen.

When you glanced back slightly over your shoulder, he was watching you walk away, and you smirked to yourself. Everything was going just perfectly.

It had been almost an hour of him being here. You checked on him regularly, even lingering to watch him work several times. You were getting restless, so you pushed from the couch, and made the click of your heels loud enough to draw his attention.

“Would you like something to drink? I have beer, water, I make a mean lemonade.”

Joel pulled himself from under your sink.

“The lemonade sounds good but um without your water on…”

“Oh I already have some made up,” you waved your hand at him and pulled out two glasses.

You pulled the lemonade from the fridge, before filling both glasses. You handed one to Joel, and made a show of drinking yours, his eyes never leaving you. He leaned back on your kitchen counters as he took a sip. You leaned over the island, making sure your cleavage was prominently on display.

“This is a damn good lemonade,” Joel smirked, looking at the glass before his eyes turned to you.

He gulped, and you smirked.

“Well thank you. It’s a secret recipe. How is all that looking?” You were sure to sound clueless, as you nodded towards the open cabinets under the sink.

“I’m going to have to get some parts. I called my partner to bring them over, so it’s going to be a bit. He’s on another job.”

“Oh that’s alright. You deserve a break anyway.”

You pushed yourself up, and slowly made your way around to him.

“You know, Mr. Miller, there are several ways two people could kill some time. And I’ve noticed you looking at me, in my little outfit and heels, since the moment you walked in.”

You took his glass from him, sitting it on the counter behind him, and looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Joel. You do look beautiful…” Joel’s voice trailed off, as he smirked softly down at you.

“What do you say Joel? Care to throw me over this island, and make me scream your name so loud the neighbors will hear and well, gossip?” You smirked and a fire lit in his eyes.

“I would prefer you drop to your knees,” his voice had deepened, and took on a demanding tone.

“Yes sir,” you smirked as you did as ordered, sitting up on your thighs as you worked his belt buckle, and pulling his already hard cock from his pants.

His fingers threaded in your hair, grabbing and pulling ever so slightly. You looked up at him from under your lashes as you pumped his length, wiping your thumb over his angry tip. You smeared the pre-come already gathered there around the tip, before he pulled again but harsher. Your mouth fell open in a gasp, and he took the opportunity to slip past your lips. He let out a groan as his cock slipped further into your mouth, and hit the back of your throat. You gagged slightly, looking up at him with tears already dancing on the edge of your eyes. The look he gave you made you clench around nothing, before you hallowed out your cheeks and started to bob your head. You never let your eyes fall from his, watching how beautiful he looked, lost in the blissful feeling you were giving him.

“That’s it sweetheart. You take me so well,” he groaned, as he gazed back down at you with hooded eyes.

You let out a moan around him, and he pulled you away by your hair. You smirked, salvia and pre-come still connecting your mouth to his cock. He gently lead you up by your hair, before he pushed himself off the counter and closer to you. His lips fell to yours in a crushing, hungry kiss, his hand falling from your hair to brush down your back. He pulled away, but didn’t go far, his breath fanning across your face as he spoke.

“This fucking outfit. I do love it but I want it off,” he spoke through gritted teeth, and started to pull at the front of the robe.

You went to kick off the heels, but Joel’s finger brushed your chin, bringing your eyes from your feet to meet his lust blown ones.

“Keep those on,” his voice was just a whisper, and you smirked at the effect the heels seem to have on him.

You gave him a simple, breathless nod, as the rest of the lingerie soon pooled on the floor. You watched his eyes ignite with passion as he looked you over. You were both still, with nothing but the sound of your panting for a moment, before he grabbed the back of your neck and bent you over the island. His hands brushed down your back making you shiver, and you grabbed hold of the edge in front of you. Joel’s hands fell to your hips squeezing slightly, and you felt his tongue suddenly on your center. Your legs spread quickly as you let out a moan. He moaned against you, which made you gasp and jump slightly, before letting out a whimper.

“Joel please,” you whined out, only to received a chuckle from him.

One hand fell from your hip to land a smack to your ass, and then he was buried in you in one swift motion.

“Oh fuck!” You let out a shout, and he groaned.

“Fucking hell sweetheart, you’re so tight. Feels so fucking good,” his voice fell to just above a whisper, and you squeezed around his cock in response.

That set him off. His hands fell to your hips again, as he started to pound inside of you. The room full of skin hitting skin, and the shared noises that fell from your lips. One of Joel’s arms wrapped around you, bringing you up against him, as the other grabbed a breast and squeezed. Your head fell back to his shoulder, feeling nothing but pure bliss. His breath fanned across your face, his mouth close to your ear as he spoke.

“You look so beautiful like this. Being fucked in the kitchen, in nothing but those red heels.”

You couldn’t respond with words, just a moan as one hand grasped at the one that still gripped your breast. He laced his fingers within yours. You turned your head, your other hand coming to the back of his head, lacing your fingers in his hair, before you kissed him frantically. His thrusts started to pick up, becoming slightly messy and your legs were shaking with your impending orgasm. He pulled away and settled his forehead against yours.

“Open your eyes,” he whispered, and you forced your heavy lids open to meet his brown ones.

“Cum,” it was simple, whispered but demanding.

You shattered, and if it wasn’t for the arm around your middle, you would have fallen to the ground. Joel snapped his hips one last time, before settling deep inside of you, and letting go. He groaned as the both of you shuddered. You panted, your eyes still closed, as you tried to gather yourself and coming back down to earth. Then Joel’s deep laugh echoed in your ear, and you couldn’t help joining in.

“That was so cheesy wasn’t it?” You laughed, as you finally forced your eyes open to look at him.

“It was a little, but still hot.”

Joel laughed, as he very carefully removed himself from you. He didn’t let you go though, just picked you up bridal style and carried you to your shared bedroom. The two of you had decided on the roleplay a few days ago. Sarah was going to be at a friends house for the night, and it had been a while since the two of you had alone time. To be both loud, and have fun anywhere in the house, besides the bedroom.

“We picked the most basic porn movie scenario huh?” Joel laughed again, as he laid you on the bed and walked to the bathroom, wetting a washcloth to clean you up.

“I mean you do have the mustache for it.”

You placed your hand over your mouth to cover your laugh, that was still twinkling in your eyes, as Joel’s head shot to the doorway. He gave you a glare, and you busted out laughing.

“I thought you liked it?!” He pouted as he came back in, and after he cleaned you up, you placed your hand on his cheek.

“I love it and you know that. The joke was there, and I couldn’t not take it,” he hovered over you now and you leaned up, giving him a quick peck on the lips.

“You’re right. I was thinking it anyways,” he shrugged as he laid down next to you.

You rolled over and gave him a light slap on the chest, making him give an over exaggerated groan.

“Joel Miller!”

He let out a laugh and pulled you to him, kissing your lips before moving to your nose, and then peppering your face, pulling giggles from you. He finally pulled away, looking at you as your laughter died but a smile lingered on your face.

“We still have plenty of time before Sarah comes home tomorrow, huh?” He asked after a few moments of silence.

“We do,” you smirked, knowing what he was thinking. “I don’t even know what we’re doing in bed, it’s not even that late.”

“I’m just gearing up for round two, but I thought I’d let you rest.”

“You know you read my mind.”

“Yeah?” He smirked as you sat up, looking down at him.

“Yes but I’m not having sex in these heels…like ever again.”

Joel let out another laugh, as you leaned down and removed said heels, letting them fall to the floor. You laid yourself on top of Joel, lacing your legs within his.

“That’s much better,” you sighed.

“I liked the heels.” Joel pouted slightly.

“Well I hate them. You’ll have to like me either barefooted or in sneakers or something.”

“I like you in anything sweetheart,” Joel wrapped his arms around you, and then turned the two of you over so he on top.

“Already ready for round two huh?” You smirked looking up at him.

“Mmm yeah, I think so,” he smirked as he kissed you deeply, and you returned it, before pulling away.

“Nah I think I’m going to take that nap,” you said as you pulled away, trying to turn yourself over while trying not to laugh.

“Oh I don’t think so.”

Tagged:@jimmythegirl @arcadianempress @discogrrl @immundusspiritu @someplace-darker @thisis-theway @ohpedromypedro @scribbledghost @fioccodineveautunnale @princess-and-pedro @phoenixhalliwell @littlevodka @all-hallows-evie @mack4676 @perropascal @audreyshepbvrn @mswarriorbabe80 @kaqua @novemberrain221

#kinktober 2023 #agentwhiskeysdarlinkinktober #pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader

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coffee-430 · 2 years

Note

Hii ! I really like ur writing especially how you write the Dom male reader since i can barley find any fics about it.. can i request soft Dom male reader x sub thoma? With a little fluff at the beginning please (^^). (first time requesting i don't know if i did that right -)

Our Little Rendezvous (Smut)

Synopsis: You've been assigned to travel in Inazuma for your work. Ayato told you that you'll be staying at his place and now you're on your way to meet with your favourite blond haired housekeeper of the Kamisato estate.

Character: Thoma

Warnings: anal penetration, sub!genshin, fingering, overstimulation, licking/sucking, soft dom!reader, handjob

Note: Thank you so much for this request! I had so much idea for this but I settled on this one, apologies if this was too long. But I hope you'll like it nonetheless! Reader is male in this one, as per request.

ㅤ

You have been one of Kamisato Ayato's best business partners. You were stationed in Liyue for quite a long while and now you've been assigned to depart for Inazuma and you couldn't be even more excited for what's to come.

You have known the Kamisato clan ever since you were little and you were there when a certain blond haired male opted to be the clan's housekeeper.

Sparks were ignited within the two of you and you two hit it off. And after courting a very flustered Thoma for a good amount of time, at long last, you became the proud lover of Inazuma's 'helper'.

Finally, your boat has reached its destination and you were welcomed with Inazuma's sight. Ever since that blond traveler from another world set foot onto this place, everything has changed.

Your eyes saw a smiling Ayato and you began to approach him.

"It's been awhile, (Y/n)." He spoke, reaching out to shake your hand. "It's good to see you too, Ayato." You grabbed his and shook it.

"I take it you're excited to be finally here." He teased, already knowing one of things you'll do in Inazuma."

"What gave it away, I wonder?"

You chuckled, your eyes scanning the area you're at. Ayato noticed and hummed, "You won't find him here. He's currently at the marketplace; I had him run some errands for me."

"Hm, is that so?" You raised a brow, "Did you tell him I was coming here?" The bluenette shook his head.

"No, I did not." You stared at him but before you could say anything he added, "Because I thought you'd surprise him once you get here."

You gave him a small smile, nodding lightly, "I am planning to surprise him. I suppose I should thank you for making that happen."

He gave you a close-eyed smile, gesturing his arm to the side, "Shall we go then?"

"We shall."

You both walked towards the marketplace, making idle chit-chat along the way.

You scanned your eyes all over your surroundings, trying to spot a certain blond haired male around the area.

The marketplace was packed with people. Merchants selling their goods sang their persuasive chants, like sirens singing their tempting song, to lure out more customers to buy their items.

"Lord Ayato!"

A voice from the crowd shouted. Turning your head to meet the source of it— you were met with a bearded looking man calling your friend out from his stall.

"Do you know him?" You whispered to the blue haired male. He nodded at your question and whispered back. "I do. I frequently order from him whenever festivals are around the corner."

"I see."

"Well, I best better go to him. Will you be alright on your own?"

"I'm not five, Ayato. I'll be fine."

Said man merely chuckled at your statement and gave your back a small pat, before leaving you to converse with the vendor.

On your own, you continue your search for your lover and once you did spot him— you saw him talking to a few people, he was talking so animatedly with the others and they laughed whenever jokes would be thrown.

You stood there for awhile, and when they began to leave. That's when you decided to approach Thoma from behind.

The unknowing blond was putting groceries into a small bag he was carrying and—

"Ah!"

A surprise shout came from him when you suddenly lifted him up from behind. "W-What?!" You spun him around, and relief washed over him when he heard that all so familiar sound.

"(Y-Y/n)?!"

He gasped once you placed him down. The housekeeper had a surprise look on his face, as you simply grinned and opened your arms for him.

"Hello, love."

He dived immediately into your arms and you embraced him as tightly as you could. "I missed you." He muttered in your chest.

You chuckled and kissed his temple, "I missed you too."

Thoma then suddenly pulled away from you and gave you a questioning look. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" He pouted which you find cute.

You pinched his cheek, earning a small whine from him. Laughing, you placed a kiss on his cheek.

"If I did, I wouldn't be able to surprise you."

"If you did, I would've been preparing for your arrival!"

"I prefer the latter, thank you."

You pulled him close to you again, he allowed you and you both held each other for a bit, before you leaned into his ear.

"How about we ditch this place for a while, hm? I've been a patient man but I don't know if I can hold it for long."

Your voice sent shivers down his spine. Gods, how he loved it whenever you talk so hot like that. You noticed how you had an effect on him, sensing one of his hands gripping your bicep.

"I-I..."

Thoma was cut off by the sound of Ayato— approaching the two of you with a smile.

"There you are— oh. I see you've found him, (Y/n)."

You remove your arms around the blond but opted to wrap one of your arms around his waist. The latter blushed at your action, feeling a bit embarrassed to be in such a state in front of his master.

"Indeed I have."

"Thoma, are you finished with your errands?" Ayato asked.

Thoma shook his head and answered, "Not yet, there's still a few I need to pick up and then I shall proceed back to the estate, my lord."

"Oh, then was I bothering you then?" You questioned, feeling at fault all of sudden. Your lover quickly shook his head, "No, not all! I still have lots of time to pick up my lord's order, so it's fine! Really." He reassured.

"Then, we'll leave you to it then." The bluenette then turned to you. "There's some matters I'd like to discuss with you back at the estate, do you mind if we walk home first?"

You shook your head and smiled, "I don't mind." You were about to release your hold on Thoma— but you him close one last time and whispered,

"Meet me in my room tonight. I'll be patient for the time being." You draw back and fully release your hold on him. You shot him a wink before walking towards Ayato— who was giving the blond a teasing smile while watching the scene.

You both walked away from a flustered blond. And once you two were away from his line of vision, he let out a sigh. Cover his red face with one hand. Feeling excited for tonight.

A few hours passed by, and currently, you were sitting upright on the floor with a snickering Ayato by your side. There was tea in front of you along with some various desserts— prepared by your Thoma.

"My apologies, (Y/n). I just thought you looked cute holding your boyfriend like that." He said, feigning a sad smile.

You gave him a look of displeasure and you scoffed, "I'm sure you did." You sarcastically replied, rolling your eyes as you do so. But it simply earned you another laughing sound from the bluenette.

"Please don't mind his teasing, (Y/n). Brother is just craving attention is all." Ayaka reassured. Apologizing for her brother's action.

"It's alright, Ayaka. I'm already used to his antics."

All three of you talked. Your topics went from business matters to private life subjects.

Thoma would come in occasionally to check up on you three and every time he did— you would always tease him with your alluring gaze.

And once night-time came, you dressed yourself up to mere robes with nothing underneath. You turned off your lights and began to patiently wait for your beloved Thoma to indulge yourselves in this little rendezvous of yours.

Thoma let out a sigh. Finally, he was done with work and now he can happily spend his time with you.

He reached the doors of the room you were currently staying in. Excitement ran through his veins when he carefully approached your doors.

He slid it open and stepped inside your chambers. The blond couldn't see due to how dark it was, so he stepped inside a bit further away from the door.

"(Y/n)?" He called out, "I'm here now. Where are you?"

The door abruptly slid closed and before he could turn to see who did that. He felt a pair of strong arms wrap themselves around him.

"I'm right here."

You spoke close to his ear. He shivered when he felt your warm breath and his body relaxed knowing it was just you.

"Finally." You sighed, "I've been waiting for this— been waiting for you.

Thoma smiled softly and turned his head to capture your lips with his. You kissed back, your kisses were passionate and had a tone of hunger in them.

No one could blame you though. This is what a long-distance relationship will do to you.

You made him face you fully— chest to chest— and you suddenly lifted him up. Your arms underneath his thighs to support his weight.

His legs were wrapped around your waist, whilst you continue to kiss now with tongue. Of course, you dominated his mouth. Exploring his wet cavern with your long pink muscle.

You then placed him gently on your bed, breaking your kiss as a string of saliva to appear on your lips. Your mouth moved on to his neck. Licking and kissing his skin softly while your hands began to undress him.

It was a good thing he was only wearing his black shirt and pants, making it easier for you to remove them.

Once they're gone, you immediately went and painted his skin with your kisses and gentle love bites. Thoma let out a moan when you suck on a sensitive spot and you began to abuse it with your mouth.

"A-Ah..."

You felt him slowly grind his hard cock onto your stomach. You chuckled and you reached a hand down to stroke him.

A whimper left his as you sucked on his sensitive skin while stroking him at a leisure pace. "Hah...~" He bucked his hips to go on faster, and you softly laughed at his impatience.

Deciding to help him, you rubbed his cock at his pace. He let out sounds that were deemed filthy, allowing himself to become undone just by your hand.

You pull away from his skin and you smirk at the sight of your love bites being littered all over him as if he was a canvas. You licked two of your fingers, wetting it with your saliva before you inserted them into Thoma's tight little hole.

"Agh!"

He almost came when he felt your long fingers penetrate his insides. He whined and moaned like a bitch in heat, while you continued to ruin him with your skillful hands.

He clenched around your fingers and you knew he was close.

"Do you wish to cum, my love?"

The blond whimpered and nodded. "Use your words, darling." You said pausing your movement on his cock and hole. He almost cried at the loss of euphoria and began pleading.

"Please! I w-want to cum. P-Please, let me cum, (Y/n)..."

And so you started stroking him again whilst sliding your fingers in and out of his hole. You leaned close to his ear, "Cum then." You commanded.

On cue, Thoma came at your words. Staining his chest, your robe and the bed's blanket with his juices. You slowly stroke him still, helping him enjoy his high till the end.

Once he was done, he panted and laid limply on the bed. You chuckled at his figure as you began disrobing yourself. "We're not quite done, my dear."

His green eyes stared at you and he drool at the sight of your body. A small gasp left him when he saw how big you were, it's been a while since you've done this— he knew you were big but boy has he forgotten.

You scooped up his juices on his chest and rubbed them on your cock. Using them as lube, beginning to align yourself on the blond's hole.

You saw how it twitched and clenched onto nothing. Your cock throbbed at its sight. You slid yourself slowly, the tip entering him. Thoma could've sworn his vision saw stars— he thought you were fully in him already.

But when he looked down, his eyes widened at the realization of you being barely inside him yet.

"B-Big..."

He stuttered, gawking at the sight. But he arched his back and screamed out in pleasure once you fully inserted your cock in him.

You honestly hoped none of the servants were still up. But at the same time you didn't really care. You're much too engrossed on Thoma, your beloved housekeeper.

He clawed your back with his nails, mewling your name as he felt both pain and pleasure simultaneously. You groaned at his tightness.

"Shh, love. It's alright." You whispered sweet nothings into his ear. Hoping to ease the uncomfortable feeling within him.

It took awhile for him to adjust to your size. He told you to move in a soft voice, and you gently kissed as you did so.

You started to move at a slow pace but it became faster when your lover told you to add more speed to it.

He was loud, although he would bury his face in your neck— muffling his sounds.

He gripped the sheets tightly, feeling the need to release again. You could tell by how tight he was clenching your cock. "Cum, Thoma." You stated. Loving the way he looks, in bliss and drunk on your cock.

He came again for the second time, but you weren't showing signs of stopping.

"Hah—! W-Wait~!"

Instead you simply continued on with your fast pace while you held him gently in your arms. You resumed on saying sweet reassuring words in his ear, as you tried to catch your high.

"Mh~ T-Thoma..."

You felt yourself at the verge of releasing. Your actions were overstimulating the poor man beneath you. "Ah...cumming...!" You grunted, finally releasing all your load inside the man you love.

Thoma moaned at the warm sensation inside of him. You rolled your hips trying to get the most of it, and once you were satisfied with your ejaculation— you were out of breath.

Sweat covered the two of you. Leaning close to him, you kissed his lips and he reciprocated.

"I love you, Thoma." You lovingly caressed his cheek. Gently wiping off a tear from his eyes. He placed a hand on top of yours and kissed the inner part of your hand.

"I love you too."

You smiled, your eyes softening at him. You pulled away, earning a confused look from him but merely gave him a motion of taking the cum stained blanket off the bed.

You knew he was too tired to move, so you maneuvered him to get the blanket off and gently let him down back onto the bed. You opened a cabinet and grabbed a new blanket for you to use.

You lie there in bed with him. The blond snuggled close to you and you welcomed him into your arms. You gave his forehead a small peck, as you engulfed the two of you with the new blanket.

"We're definitely doing this more often." You whispered, "Inazuma is now my new workplace after all."

Thoma giggled, "That's good to know. I missed this anyway. And I've always dreaded being far away from you."

You hummed in agreement and let sleep finally take you. And you are already expecting to encounter a smirking Ayato in the morning.

#co430requests #co430fics #sub!genshin #genshin impact x reader #dom!reader #thoma x reader #thoma smut #sub!genshin x dom!reader #genshin smut #genshin impact

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sppringtrap · 3 years

Note

Yo, I saw you were open for requests! Im new to Tumblr and still getting used to this all, sorry if im doing anything wrong ^^" I'm assuming y/n requests also means x reader? Please disregard this if it doesn't im sorry for wasting your time </3

But I wanted to request any general headcanons for a sunny/sunnydrop x male reader or maybe a fic if you can? A few ideas for a fic could be a dude who loves to dress up with neon kid-like clothing/nostalgiacore and likes to help out around the daycare, or an artist who really likes the designs of sunny and moon and draws them a lot :>

I barley see any x male readers, im dying for some over here!

I'm gonna write some HCs for this cause I just have absolutely cute thoughts!!

Sundrop LOVES when people draw him cause it lets him see how other people see him. He's always wanted to learn to draw really well but could never learn because nobody would teach him.

Poses like a French girl for you, enjoys every second of the spotlight!

Sundrop would also watch you draw, be extremely intrigued and watch intently.

Moondrop is the opposite. He hates to pose but secretly absolutely loves when the kids draw him. He has a secret drawer full of drawings that the kids have drawn him.

Moon doesn't get as much attention as Sun does. He gets secretly jealous sometimes, so y/n would draw both of them.

Moon would also be really intrigued by your art but HE IS JUST BETTER. He would be incredible at art and drawing, especially painting.

I have some more ideas but those are for another time :3

#fnaf fanart #sunnydrop #daycare attendant #sundrop #fivenightsatfreddys #springtrap #fnaf x reader #fnaf glamrock freddy #fnaf vanessa #fnaf moondrop #fnaf oc #fnaf 2 #five nights at freddys #freddy fazbear #fnaf sb #fnaf gregory #security breach

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poppywrites41 · 3 years

Text

Captive Love Chapter 1

Prince!Yoongi x Maid!Reader

AN: this MIGHT turn into an ot7 fic. honestly depends on my mood, i dont rlly have a plan for this so it might not even be completed itself. Here is the first chapter for it. lmk what y’all think!!

If y’all like it, i will keep posting, but I will be busy until May with university assignments.

WARNING: Implied death, cursing, sexual references. There will be more smut and violence to come in future chapters. If anyone is triggered by smut, non-con, death or violence, DO NOT INTERACT ANY FURTHER IN THIS BOOK.

The man watched with cold eyes as the young female body fell from his hold to the floor with a thud. He kneeled down and places his hand on her neck to check for a pulse. When he found no signs of life, he sighed in annoyance, “Fuck...I didn’t even get to try her out yet.” What was her name again? He didn’t know. Well, he didn’t really care. If he is feeling frustrated, there is usually one in his vicinity doing her chores where he can just grab them and do as he pleases. They don’t fight and he likes that, but it has started to get boring. This girl was different. She was probably new and didn’t know what to do, so she had a tiny bit of fight to her. But, she apparently didn’t know how to clean his desk properly, so she got herself a little too hard of a squeeze to the neck.

The prince huffed and went down the hall to let the guards know to remove the body that was in his chambers. They immediately took action, rushing with haste to remove the inconvenience from their majesty’s room. The man walked into the banquet hall where his parents and 6 brothers were eating their dinner.

“Yoongi my daring!” his mother called him over to her, taking his hand, “you must try the elk! Jungkook killed it today and it’s the biggest one anyone has ever shot! It is absolutely delicious!” Yoongi looked over at his youngest brother who had two servant girls on either side of him, begging for his attention. It annoyed Yoongi that Jungkook could just bat an eyelash and would have 5 women at his feet ready to suck his cock. Why the fuck was he so popular? “Nice kill.” he said to the youngest as he sat down next to his second younger brother, Namjoon. Namjoon was one of the brothers he tolerated well. He was a smart man and handsome at that. If he had been born first, he would have been a good king. He also had good luck when it came to fucking.

“Mother,” Yoongi said as he was served a piece of elk with roasted vegetables, “I need a new bedchamber maid.” His mother sighed, “Did you dispose of another one already?! Didn’t she just start last week? Yoongi, this is the 4th one in the past month and a half!” “She couldn’t do her job properly. I did what I had to.” The second eldest prince huffed.

“Mother,” Jimin, the third youngest spoke up, “where are you finding these women? What’s their status?” “I think this last batch came from Hearthfield. A few of the girls were daughters of the noblemen whom we paid handsomely for.” she recalled. Jimin laughed, “That’s your problem! You’ve been getting girls who don’t do that stuff. You need to go to Seaport to find the best girls. That’s were I get my bedchamber maids from. They know how to work, and they know how to properly serve a man.” The queen smiled warmly at her third youngest, “Thank you Jimin. Yoongi, I will send out the guards to Seaport to find more women to work at the castle. You may come down to the courtyard and inspect them. Though you may not pick yet, for they need to be trained.” “Thank you mother,” Yoongi said as he dug into his meal.

“Y/N!” an older male voice called to the girl staring at the sea, “Go help your brother with the crab traps. Remember, females with eggs-“ “get thrown back, males as big as the palm can stay. Got it!” the young girl finished for him, jogging along the dirt path to their dock.

Y/N and her family are fishermen. Well, her stepfather and stepbrother are. Her mother passed away 3 years ago when she was 18 and she never really could recall her own father. Her stepfather wasn’t a bad person. He treated her like a human being, but there was always a wall that she felt he put up around himself. She and her stepbrother tolerated each other when it came to working. He wasn’t the worst person in the world, but he always made it known that he was superior to her. Sometimes she felt like she didn’t belong in her own home, but she enjoys working by the sea. She walked onto the dock where her stepbrother was already going through one of their crab traps. “Hey,” he said, not looking up at her, “you know what to do. Better go fast so we make it back before dark.” Y/N nodded and went to the next crab trap, opening it up and sorting their catch. The sun had begun to set when they finished. Y/N and her stepbrother loaded the wagon with buckets of crab. Her brother got on and started the horse towards the village where the best crabs will be picked to be taken to the royal family. “You go on back. I’ll take them.” her stepbrother said. She nodded and began walking back home. Y/N never thought much of the royal family other than being jealous that they get the best of what they caught. She sometimes wonders what they are like. As she walks back, she closes her eyes and feels the sea wind on her face. She can practically taste the salt in the wind. She’s happy here. She doesn’t need to worry about some royal family. Her life is good.

When Y/N was finally able to spot her home, she saw a group of men in armor with horses in front of her home, conversing with her step dad. She thinks nothing of it and continues her walk. She then notices the head guard hand over a sack of what looked like money to her stepfather. Y/N got excited thinking that maybe the royals were paying their subjects extra money for their good food and ran toward her stepfather. When she arrived, all of the men looked at her. “Is this her?” the guard asked her stepfather. “Yes sir,” he replied, “she does not have much to pack that she would really need there, so she is ready to go whenever.” Y/N looked at her stepfather in confusion, “Where am I going? What do I need to get?” Before he could answer, the guard spoke, “The king and queen sent us out to find young women to serve them in the castle. We seem to have had a drop in servants recently and are paying families to hand over their daughters.” “But you surly must have enough!” she said, sending a pleading look to her father, “we are happy here! I wouldn’t be much help! I only know how to fish!” “Y/N!” her stepfather’s voice increased, “You must go. We have barely had enough money to feed three mouths since your mother died. She would have agreed to this.” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her family was giving her up? After all she had done for them? Tears began to well up in her eyes. The guard was the next to speak, “I will give you three minutes. Grab what you can carry, come back out and get into the wagon. We leave for the castle.” Y/N barley nodded and slowly walked into her home to her room. She got a small crossbody satchel and put her small stuffed bear her mom made her in it, her favorite shell and her notebook. She found her mom’s necklace and put it on. It was a simple necklace; a silver pendant that had the words “my love for you is as great as the sea” etched into it. When she came out, her brother had just returned. She looked at him and he avoided her gaze which broke her heart. “Come girl,” the captain said, “We haven’t got all day. We must return this evening.” Y/N nodded and followed his horse to the wagon. When she hopped on, there were only 6 other women. They were very pretty so she felt left out. Granted, Y/N didn’t really have the luxury of having a mirror so she never really knew if she was pretty, not that she cared anyways. She looked back at her home as it slowly disappeared from view, already missing her life on the sea. After what seemed to be a few hours, the group arrived at the gate of a great stone castle. Y/N thought the castle came straight from a fairy tale book.

The wagon was brought into the courtyard where there was an older woman waiting. The girls were lined up in front of her. She walked down the line of young girls, inspecting them. She sighed and turned around to face them all. “Welcome, ladies, to the castle of Bangtan. My name is Lilith and I am your head maid. You all have been chosen to be servants of the royal family. These duties include cleaning the interior of castle, serving food to the royal family at meals or guests during balls, doing their laundry or fetching anything they ask for. There are a few rules you MUST follow; NEVER look a royal in the eye unless told to by one, NEVER speak informally to a royal, only speak when spoken to and NEVER refuse service to a royal. Do what you are told and life will be easy. Now, your training will begin at 7 AM, I will take you to your quarters. I will show you where to meet me in the morning. Come along and do not fall behind.” The girls looked at each other in confusion as they followed the head maid into the castle. Y/N felt someone staring at her but when she looked back, she saw nothing. She quickly followed the group into the doors so that she won’t be left behind.

“So my darling,” the queen said to her second oldest son, “what do you think?” Yoongi huffed as he watched the girl with h/c hair rush to catch up to the group. “She looks like work,” the queen sighed, “hopefully she will last longer than the one who was disposed of three days after arriving.” Yoongi on the other hand was intrigued by the young girl. He couldn’t get a good look at her face, but her posture was different from the other girls. They were making themselves small while she stood tall. She seemed strong, like she had some fight in her. Yoongi is intrigued by that. The queen could see the wheels turning in his head, “Has one already caught your attention my dear?” “There is one that is particularly interesting,” he said folding his arms, “but we will have to see.” “Do not mess with them immediately,” the queen warned, “they need to train and get used to their new environment. Give them a week.” With that she pressed a kiss to his cheek and walked back inside. Yoongi went back to his room and lay down on his bed. He couldn’t get that h/c out of his head. He knew he was not supposed to interact with the new servants until they are properly trained, but what’s training without an actual royal? A smirk played on the prince’s lips as he thought about the next day until he fell asleep.

#yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #bts fanfic #bts yoongi #bts royal au #poppywrites41 #yandere yoongi #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fic #bts x reader smut #yoongi x reader smut

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thedelusionreaderbitch · 3 years

Text

Kaz Brekker x fem! Reader - Dark Grey

A/n: So this was request but I couldn't find who requested it (and it wasn't anonymous!) So whoever did just give me a hey! This is literally the longest fic I have ever written.

Warnings: Blood, gore, death, sad Kaz, language, torture, Parem I think that's it? You have been warned!

Summary: Your a double agent for the dregs

"Come on you little shits, we have a job to do." One of the higher ups of the Dime Lions yells at some men at some tables at the Emerald Palace in the back.

Little birds have told me that people have been raving about this place being extravagant, but it's really just extra dramatic if you ask me. The green of the building is like someone drunk from the Crow Club wandered over here and puked on it and someone just decided the color looked pretty, so they mixed some glitter and red and pow. There you have it.

That may just be me though.

I start to get up with all the others but the man who just yelled, jets hand in front of me, fast like I'm going to run off.

"The boss wants to talk with you about getting you higher status." The man growls obviously not happy about someone who could be possibly taking his spot and he's probably not happy it could be a girl. Well sucks too suck.

I almost nod and have an emotionless face on but I realize that's the real me would do that, have have to be Cozbi and she's a little naive. But she's good enough if Pekka wants to notice her.

I let a smile crawl on my face; "Well I guess your just going to have to tell Mr. Rollins I would be delighted." I say nearly flirting with an accent, but more taunting like as I twirl my tailored unnatural bright red hair (like it's VERY bright) around my finger and I grin like a popular school girl.

"I'm not your messenger." The man scowls.

"But boss wants you up there in five minutes." He snaps and goes off face all red.

I barely even manage keep into place long enough as the men walk out to start their job. As soon as they do I speed off to a bathroom and I write on a piece of paper in a stall.

Giving me higher status, think he's getting suspicions though. Their going on a job tomorrow night to take out the Blacktips. Amush. Pekka also got a stash of Parem. Don't know why. Stay Safe, don't give clues. Frame someone.

-Your favorite person from the barrel

I open the window above my stall and I do a low whistle.

Fweet. Fweet.

A crow comes and lands on the window sill I grin slightly and my (also tailored) e/c eyes touch down on the raven haired bird. I'm reminded of Kaz's raven hair and his dark brown eyes as I hand him the folded note and the bird tilts it's head and takes the note and fly's off.

I flush the toilet and hurry out heading to Pekka's office.

I open the door slowly priding myself for being exactly a minute late, it works really well for who I'm playing. I see Pekka siting in his chair but instead of waiting for me like I thought he would be. Right now though he's reading something with a almost confused look on his face.

Shit.

"Well, well, well Cozbi your finally here." Pekka smiles not a nice smile - though he is a barrel boss.

The door shuts behind me and someone shoves me to the ground and people surround me and hold me in place.

"Or should I say Y/n." And then everything goes black.

_______________Time skip a few hours in a random warehouse (not that you know that)😈😈😈___________________________________

I slowly open my eyes and I look around the place. I'm tied to chair there's no light in the room so it's hard to make out anything but I think the floor is concert but the walls are wood.

Cheap.

"I didn't think you would be up so soon Y/n... Well this is a surprise." Rollins says and then in flash stabs a dagger into my stomach.

My scream fills the air as he pulls the knife out. I make my voice quiver I can still be Cozbi, I can still be Cozbi.

"I-I don't know who Y/n-Y/n is sir-sir." I stutter but my entire body is on fire from being in enough interrogations before. It's telling me to be harsh to not get to the point, but I might be able to get out of here if I play the part.

He takes my jaw and shoves it forward harshly. "We already know who you are L/n. Y/n L/n the dregs notorious double agent that never gets killed or even better caught."

Pekka smiles sadistically.

"I'm going to make sure this story ends in red." He laughs.

He goes to leave but he puts his hand up.

"And make sure she's can't see." His henchmen put a blindfold on me as I hear the door close. I can feel them coming closer and I hear one smack something on the ground that must have been a bat.

"Let's have some fun girly." I tug at my bonds hopelessly and helplessness fills my body.

________TIME SKIP_________________________________________

My screams ring this room for the next week.

Or what I at least think is a week. There's no windows in here so it's hard to tell when time pass's. Pekka doesn't come back again but I know his coming soon because his henchmen have been worse than usual because they want a raise or something.

I gave up thinking Kaz would come. I remember what he told me last time I saw him before I went on this mission.

We won't come for you if you get caught and it's only a matter of time before you do.

I messed up the last mission we were on with the crows, I got Inej hurt and he wasn't happy. So I did this job.

Because maybe then I would get what I deserved.

My hands have knives through them sticking them to the chairs, there's blood all over my face from the daily beatings. My one leg is twisted and broken in ugly places and cuts and bruises litter my body.

I know it's only a matter of time before my body gives out and Pekka finally wins.

The door to my (what feels like) cell opens and there's Pekka and six more henchmen in the room.

Those are new.

They might not be henchmen though I think we're past that at this point, I think their assassins.

Or something like that anyways.

Their hoods are up but I can clearly see that there's two girls and four guys. My vision blurs a little. Maybe death will grant me mercy sooner than I thought.

"Meet my new friends Cozbi." Pekka mocks and jesters towards the cloaked figures.

"Ironic that you choose the name Cozbi. For did you know, it means liar? I thought maybe I should call you that now, liar. It fits perfectly you know?" Pekka spits in my face.

"Anyways..." Pekka drawls on for a bit and I realize the lack of movement in the halls. But before I can question that one of the male hooded figures gives a box to Rollins and he opens the box. Rollins grins like someone just made his day.

Fuck.

He advances on me with a small packet and I stay deadly still.

"Do you know what this is Cozbi." I keep my eyes trained on the packet.

"My name is Y/n."

Pekka laughs and grins evilly.

"You wanted to be Cozbi so you will be called as such." He growls and calls for is henchmen.

Two men come to tip my head back and hold my jaw in place. I try to shake them off by moving my head but it's no use.

"It's Parem." I freeze. No, no, no.

"For grisha you suffer by always wanting it not inculding the rare cases. But for normal humans."

He takes a step forward and he opens the packet and holds it over my mouth.

"It kills you terribly and so, so, so painfully." He crouches down and looks at me.

"Your going to die as Cozbi. Your going to die a liar, and I will make sure all of Ketterdam remembers that."

He gestures towards his henchmen and instead of trying to prier open my mouth like I expect them too.

They go and pull up my hands.

My hands go through the hilts of the blade and it hurts so much I can't do anything but scream.

Pekka shoves the Parem in my mouth.

My body feels like it's withering away and Pekka laughs as I vibrate against my seat. I feel my eyes widen and the only thing going through my head is that Rollins is a foul.

The knives.

And I'm not going out without a fight.

I pull the knives out of the handles of the seat and I scream as the hilt of the blades touch my skin but I quickly cut the bonds around me and I stab one of my knifes into the first henchmen.

I leap towards the other and I barley manage the scrap him before my body hits the floor and I can't move anymore.

Searing pain stabs through my body like multiple knives just stabbing me over and over again I expect Pekka to be the last face I see and I murmur something about the saints but then I see it.

The hooded figures.

It's the Crows.

The henchmen are down on the floor and Pekka is tied up and gagged to the chair. I feel my vision start to blur and the Crows go to check the area.

"We have to get her a healer!" Someone yells. But I'm on my back looking up and I barley even recognize that things are happening around me. It's like I'm watching from a different world but I can't do anything.

"Y/n!" Someone yells and picks me up from my spot on the ground.

"Come on Y/n!" Someone whisper-yells.

I groan as the person starts walking and I let out a rattling breath, that I knew that should concern me but I couldn't care less.

I just wanted it to end.

"Your not dying on me today Y/n."

Kaz, I think it's Kaz.

Everything shifts back into focus, Kaz is running (even with his bad leg) and somehow the searing pain from the parem in my body has started to subside. Noticing the many, many yards of guards running after the crows and some group of them has so, so, so many guns pointed right at Kaz.

Then it happens.

Suddenly I feel above the others, like I have powers that no one has ever had. The universe was bending to my will and I gasp as I'm lifted up into the air by something shadowy, and dark blackness surrounds my legs all the way up to my waist. I don't quiet know what I'm doing but it feels natural, like I knew how too do it all along.

I raise my hands into the air and shadows burst out into the open.

Guards are being cut in half, some are being chocked to death, some look like their getting stabbed multiple times as wounds just show up. Others look like they have a disease as darkness spreads across their bodies. And some just fall to the floor and die silently.

Their dead.

The power, and the need to protect everyone I care about is gone.

I don't even scream.

I hit the ground with a thud and I try to open my mouth as Kaz frantically pulls me into his arms cradling me. No, that couldn't be right though.

He yells for someone but I can't make it out I try to blink, but even that is hard and it's so slow and I can feel Kaz bring me closer too him but I don't really know what's reality anymore.

"Y/n." The voice (although it tries not to show it) lets concern and fear run through the words. I gasp.

"Kaz." I manage to say. He pulls me (somehow) closer as he lifts my face up to look into his.

He says something, but I can't comprehend anything he's saying. The edges of my vision start going black and everything else is going fuzzy.

"You'll live!" Kaz says, trying to reassure me but it sounds like he's trying to reassure himself more.

I place a hand on his and I want to say something, but the words are all mixed up and it feels like concrete is holding my jaw shut. Everything starts slowly turning black and I'm internally screaming in my head;

No! I have to say something! I can't go like this!

It's useless though, because everything slowly fades away the last thing I see is the dark brown of Kaz's concerned eyes.

_______TIME SKIP_____________________________________________

The light bulb of whatever room I'm in flickers off and on as darkens seems to try and cover it. I take a look around to see all the Crows tied up to a chair each, they have gags in their mouths and they look like they have been tortured out of their minds.

I run over to Wylan trying to help him out, but he let's out a muffled scream as I go towards him. I quickly turn to Jesper but he's so still in his seat not even looking at me.

Nina and her confident demeanor is gone, her aura is laced with panic and Matthias is with her on that one.

Inej can't seem to stop shaking, making her presence known to everyone. Then I turn to the last chair and my heart must have stopped.

Kaz's corpse lays, in the chair. Bubbles of darkens, are around his mouth and it looks like it chocked him to death.

Dirtyhands was finally beaten.

Then darkness shoots out of me, and I can't seem to stop it as it kills everyone else.

I sit up and a scream rips through my throat. I breath in heavily trying to get the air into my lungs. Everything in me burns, pain course's through me like a parasite on steroids, but at least time I succeed at muffling my scream.

I hear someone running from another room and the door fly's open. On command darkens shoots out from my hand and starts chocking the person- Holy shit! That's Kaz!

"No!" And it all appears to fade away into the shadows.

Tears start to fill my eyes, what will happen when I'm in a real state of panic? Could my nightmare eventually come true?

I feel the bed dip beside me and despite my hardest efforts, my eyes wander over to Kaz.

He looks like he hasn't slept a day in his life, with the essentially black moons under his eyes. His skin looks chalky white, contrasting his red rimmed eyes that looks like he had been crying just a few minutes ago.

Concern fills my shadowed heart, something must have happened for the Kaz fucking Brekker to be like this. My fears about being a shadow summoner disappear, they do stay at the back of my mind but finding out what's up with the bastard of the barrel is more important.

I carefully place a hand on his cheek. He tense's up a bit before relaxing into the palm of my hand and even leaning into it a bit.

"What happened?"

Kaz looks at me in disbelief. "What happened?" He lets out a chocked laugh that holds a sob in the background.

"You died." My breath hitches in my throat, wait... That can't be right. Can it?

"Matthias had to do chest compression's on you while Nina tried to restart your heart. All because I couldn't fucking do it."

He takes in a breath and rips my hand away from his face.

"Your heart stopped Y/n, we thought you were dead. But they kept going and somehow saved you!" A sob tears through his throat and Kaz Brekker breaks down in front of me. His walls that he has tried so hard to keep strong have had a boulder thrown at it. Smashing it with so much force that he couldn't possibly rebuild it.

"I'm sorry." I whisper. "For all the pain I caused you." I somehow manage to speak as my own tears start to come up.

"Seriously? Your sorry?" Kaz turns to me and grips my shoulders.

"Your the one who died, damn it!"

"Hey I have something to hold over Jesper?" I try to joke and it gets a small, very tiny tried smile out of Kaz.

"And the fact that your a shadow summoner."

"I didn't know." I say quickly and I pull back defensively, Kaz just sighs.

"I know."

He lets his hands run down my arms and his hands make delicate patterns on my skin. Then I remember the parem. Fuck.

"What were the effects of the parem?" If anyone would know, it would be Kaz.

He pause's for a second seemingly in thought before opening his mouth the speak.

"Well your life span was shortened to a normal one." I exhale in relief at that news, I really didn't want to live for centuries.

"But your powers could surpass the Darkling's, and the only reason you don't have the opposite of what you have now is because you pushed it down for so long. The healers somehow purged the parem out of your body before it could make you a mindless addict."

"That better news then I thought I would get." Kaz nods but there's something else lingering in the back of his head.

He thinks I'm going to leave.

I intertwine our hands together, and I turn my head to look him right in the eyes.

"I'm not leaving." I blurt out.

"If I went to the little palace I would get hunted, if I went anywhere else I would get hunted. I might go into hiding for a bit, but I'm not leaving you."

A smile that's even bigger than the last one by some means crawls up on his face.

"Good, because I just got you back."

Words 3021

-thedelusionreaderbitch

Shadow and bone taglist: @kaqua

(If you want to be added just comment taglist)

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thatoneidiotdts · 4 years

Text

Father!Thranduil x Male! Reader x Brother! Legolas

Gifs aren’t mine

Also this was supposed to be my first fic almost 2 years ago and for the last two years I’ve been writing it little by little

Warning : Daddy issues, abandonment, abuse, assault, war and MANY other things

Word count : 5.4k (New record!!!!)

Flashback- example

3rd P.O.V.

He was never loved, even in the first few moments in his life , his brother was chosen over him

When his father came from a lost battle , he didn’t felt grief because he lost the battle, he felt grief because he lost his wife, his queen and the love of his life

As he walked into a room with two cribs with his children are still sleeping, the younger twin, Legolas, was a clear replica of his mother, blond hair and smal body while the the older one, (M/n) , was a cut out copy of his father

When Thranduil looked at the younger twin he felt the need to protect him and give him the best childhood he can give to the child as a single father

But when he looked at he older one, he felt nothing but hate and disappointment, the child was a beautiful one yes, but Thranduil couldn’t shake of the feeling that something was wrong about his older child

As the twins grew up one was always left behind, barely anyone cared how he felt, or when he first walked or talked, no one cared when he started to read

As the older child grew he became colder and colder every day , he would talk to his brother occasionally but he liked to keep his focus to his books

There were a few people who he trusted and cared about, and those people were Lord Elrond, Lindir, Legolas and Nirohnil

Legolas would always try to make him go out of his room and sociolize. He would also listen to (M/n) while he talked about the books he read

“(M/n) what are you reading?” Legolas asked as his brother let out a sigh and closed the heavy book, finally finishing it.

“The demise of the headless serpent. You know. The book we have to read so we can finish our Literature studies.”

(M/n) looked at him with an angry face, disappointed that his brother is leaving his education to fool around.

“Oh come ooon brother! Don’t be so grim”

Legolas said as he pulled out some food from his bag and placed it in front of his brother.

“I know you like to skip lunch so I brought you some food, you should eat more if you want to spend the rest of your eternity in a library you know.”

(M/n) looked at the food his brother brought him, there wasn’t much of it but just enough to feed someone.

He smiled and thanked his brother as took the food but not before placing the heavy book on his brothers lap and turning it to page one.

His brother let put a groan as (M/n) chuckled.

When he is spending some days in Rivendell he would write poetry with Lindir. (M/n) and Lindir would always talk about recent things the two found out or gossip about (M/n)’s dad and Lindir's poetry

Lindir has romantic feelings for (M/n), he would do almost anything for him but because of (M/n)’s cold heart he never felt confident enough to confess his feelings for him

“The stars are beautiful tonight aren’t they (M/n)?”

Lindir asked as he turned his head to look at his friend who was sitting next to him, his friend only nodded, his eyes never leaving the stars.

Lindir felt his friend rest his head on his shoulder, he could feel his face warm up as the thought of him and (M/n) spending their every night like this made him feel like he had butterflies in his stomach.

He took in a big breath before speaking.

“(M/n) I have something to tell you, I have been hiding my own feelings from you for a long time now, I wish I could have said this long before but I think now it’s the right time. (M/n) I love y-”

*Snore*

Lindir stiffed up as he looked down at his friend who was sleeping. He took in a deep breath and rested his head on (M/n)’s, maybe they should stay like this for a few more moments before Lindir caries (M/n) back to his room.

Elrond is like a father, or rather a uncle figure to (M/n), they are close as Thranduil would send the child countless times to Rivendell so that he doesn’t have to deal with him

Elrond was walking through Rivendell as one of his guards approached him.

“My Lord, King Thranduil has sent one of the twins here as he wished for him to spend some time with you”

He knew that Thranduil’s words were absolute bullshit, he knew which of the twins he sent and the real reason why. He sighed and told the guard to bring him here.

“I’m here, I’m here!!” The small child said as he left his hiding place beneath some tables. Elrond let out a small laugh as the guard scolded (M/n) for not staying with Nirohnil.

“Hello little sapling, do you know where your guard is?”

He asked the small child as he answered.

“Probably freaking out somewhere because he doesn’t know where I am, I shouldn’t have left.”

Elrond picked up the small child and told him that while it is his fault and that should have been patient it’s alright to explore but not alone since he still is a small child.

After a long day of exploring, reading and learning Elrond tucked (M/n) in but just before he got up he heard a quiet voice ask him a question.

“Uncle El, why is father sending me here so much and why isn't he sending Legolas with me? Why doesn’t he come along? Did he do something wrong?”

Elrond’s heart broke into millions of tiny shards as he didn’t want to answer to any of (M/n)’s question because he knew if he did it would break the little elfling's heart.

“I don’t know little sapling, but I do know that you should go to sleep now”

He said as he kissed (M/n)’ forehead and wished him goodnight, but just before he closed the door he heard the small child speak again.

“You are the best uncle El”

Elrond smiled and left (M/n) to his dreamfull sleep, hoping that maybe one day Thranduil will realize his mistake.

Nirohnil is (M/n)’s personal guard, both of the twins had their personal guard selected by the queen herself, Nirohnil would often train and teach the prince various combat techniques.

Nirohnil truly didn’t know how to comfort the crying prince, his father has forgotten about him completely …. again.

He truly felt disgusted at his own king for not loving his son the way he deserves it.

“The se-second I e-enter the room he leaves!! I’ve t-tried to make him happy proud, I’ve studied, trained, read, learned my whole life and yet he barely said a word to me!!! Am I not good enough for him?!?! What does he see in Legolas that he doesn’t see in me?!!”

The prince yelled until his throat was sore and raspy and until his head hurt from so much crying and Nirohnil listened to him, held him close and tried to make (M/n) feel better about himself.

The guard could barley hold the rage inside of him. He wanted to make sure Thranduil knows exactly how does (M/n) feel when he breaks the princes’ fragile heart into million pieces over and over again.

One normal day (M/n) decided to venture into the forest completely alone, in a book about botany he read of a plant that makes anyone who eats it have powerful hallucinations of various colors and patterns, the book said that the colors of the flower are as colorful as the flower itself

Before the prince could process the situation he could feel sharp claws dig in oh back and pulling him off his horse. He felt a hand grab on his hair and scrape his scalp. He looked up to see a few faces of terrible looking orcs.

They started to talk in their language, (M/n) couldn't understand them but he did understand a few words " ......Kill! ..... No..... Trade...... Gold!!!"

The prince kicked and screamed but to no avail, he was almost free but the orc grabbed him by the neck and squeezed it hard, after more kicking (M/n) felt the life drain out of him as he didn't have the power to fight anymore

The orc let go of him and threw him on the floor, the prince started to cough as he could finally breath, the orc started to speak again but (M/n) could only understand one word "... Punishment!!!...."

Nirohnil could feel his stomach turn in worry, he couldn't find the prince anywhere, and he already checked on the places (M/n) would always be, his mother's grave, around the training ground, with Legolas, he checked everywhere

The guard stopped in his tracks as the realization hit him. He didn't check the library! He ran down the hallways to the Royal library, unlucky for him the prince wasn't there. But he did notice a book open on the table, when he read the page that was open he got instantly worried, that part of the forest was full of lurking orcs!!!

He quickly went to his stable, grabbed his horse and rode into the dark forest, the longer he was riding the more worried he become, he was surprised by a pack of orcs which he killed easily but when he found the prince in their camp he could feel his stomach turn.

The prince was knocked out, his body was full of cuts and bruises but the most horrible part was his now very short hair, almost nothing of it left, there were multiple cuts on his scalp from the daggers orcs had, Nirohnil quickly pulled the prince on his horse and rode back to the halls of the Elven king

As he got closer to the gates he screamed for the guards to open the gate and get the healers as quickly as possible, the prince's guard calmed down a bit when the healers took (M/n) to their quarters

A few hours have passed by now, Nirohnil paced back and forth in front of the door while Legolas was standing there still in complete shock, he should have gone with his brother, he should have been there to protect him from the orcs but he wasn't, instead he was fooling around with his friends.

One of the healers exited the room and was instantly attacked by Nirohnil's questions "Is he alright?! Alive?! Awake?!" The healer was quite surprised but he tried to answer his questions as best he can possibly can, while the prince was stable he wouldn't wake up for another day or two, he is on heavy medicine so his body can properly heal, the only long term effect was that his hair will never grow back because when the elven hair is cut it stays that way forever

Over the course of the next day other elves could see how both Nirohnil and Legolas were more depressed than ever, Legolas wouldn't want to hang out anymore and Nirohnil had no more energy to train or do anything, the prince's guard blames himself for the most part, if he realized where the prince was maybe he wouldn't get that hurt

Thranduil got worried when he saw Legolas in the library, there was no way he would spend his time there willingly, when Thranduil found out what happened to his second son he felt a small smidge of sadness in him, he shouldn't feel this for someone he hated for their whole life

When (M/n) finally woke up both his brother and his guard rushed to his side so they can comfort the prince, they both felt responsible for the state he was in, Legolas started to cry, (M/n) hugged his brother and let him cry in his shoulder.

(M/n) needed months to heal completely, he knew that his hair will never grow back but at least he was alive, over this course of time Lindir and Elrond would frequently visit him and read him stories or poetry

Years have passed since the attack, his hair truly didn't grow back but be wore a hood over his head most of the time so it was fine, he started to feel disconnect from his friends and family, Legolas became one of the guards, Nirohnil didn't need to be with the prince all the time now and he hasn't travelled to Rivendell since Lindir birthday

A few years back the dragon from the north made the dwarfs flee from their home and far away from him, he has heard of the terrible thing his father did and he wished to make it right but he knew he couldn't, (M/n) seriously debated with himself if he should go there, he wasn't interested in gold but rather the rich library the dwarfs possessed, after a long talk with himself he decided to go

After packing his stuff and weapons he wrote a letter to Legolas, Nirohnil, Lindir and Elrond, he left each of them something of value to remember him by if he never comes back to Legolas he left the books he himself wrote, to his guard he left his necklace, to Lindir he left his favourite writing pen and to Elrond he left his childhood toy, a beautiful horse carved out of the darkest wood

He planned his escape perfectly, he knew exactly which guards would sleep on their duty and learned their schedule, it was a perfect night to escape, Legolas and Nirohnil were on a trip to Rivendell and he couldn't see his father for the whole day, but he was soon stopped in his tracks

"Where are you going?" The prince turned around to see none other than his father, King Thranduil "I'm..um.. leaving.. I know that if Legolas was here he would stop me but I just can't be here anymore, I want so see the places I've read about, I want to see the world with my own eyes" He said in a quiet tone

Thranduil's gaze only got colder as he spoke "You should leave, you are useless anyway, if you wish to leave that's on you, just know that you will never be welcome here again" He said as he turned away but that didn't stop (M/n), he climbed on his horse and rode into the night

When (M/n) left Thranduil felt a pain in his heart, he didn't understand why but he felt like he should have stopped his son and tell him to carefully think this through, like should have at least say good bye

"What do you mean you let him go?!?!" Nirohnil screamed in pure anger with nothing to hold him back. He was done with Thranduil's shit, he was going to make him realize what he has done to the prince.

"You dare to yell at me in my own kingdom?! Do not forget that I'm the king here Nirohnil" Thranduil said back as Nirohnil growled out of anger and annoyance.

"You ignorant fool!! Do you realize what have you done?! You've been ignoring him for the most of his life, he just wanted to make you be proud!! He would go far and beyond just for you to see him!! Do you understand how many nights did he cry himself to sleep?!?! How many days he spend in the library or on the training grounds!?!?!"

Thranduil's eyes widen at the words of his guard, knowing that Nirohnil was speaking nothing but the painful truth, he looked to the ground in shame, letting the guard speak his mind and soul.

"But you don't care do you? You are just happy that he left aren't you? You will never understand how he felt because of you! And the worst thing is that you probably know all of this, you know how far he has come just to make you proud but you still didn't give a single though about him did you?!"

Thranduil finally realized what he has done and he knows it will hunt him for an eternity and after, he felt sick to his stomach, how could he just forget about one child and love the other ?!

"You disgust me.. You are nothing but hollow husk of a person you once were, it's a shame that you did the same thing to (M/n), you made him nothing but a hollow shell of the person he once was"

Nirohnil said in anger and left the throne room, leaving Thranduil to drown in regret.

The journey to the mountain was tough and merciless, most of the it was raining but that didn't stop (M/n) from his goal, he learned that there is an open entrance through the mountain that only lead to the main hall and lucky the library wasn't far from there, the entrance was extremely narrow but that didn't stop him, when he entered he was surprised with giant empty halls of the mountain king

The elf pulled out a map of the kingdom and followed the path he should, the only problem was that before he can get to the library me needs to pass through the sea of coins and that would surly wake up the sleeping dragon, he walked through the coins as silently as he possibly could, just before the entrance that lead to the library he slipped and feel from the small mountain of gold to the cold, hard ground.

As he got up he could hear the coins falling from a body of a rising from the sea of gold, the dragon wasn't amused "What brings you here thief? Why shouldn't I burn you until there is no flesh left on you bones?" Thank dragon threatened the elf as he tried his best to answer "I'm not here for your gold and if I was I wouldn't walk over it to get to here, I would have grabbed the first thing that I found and ran, I'm here for the library and the many books the dwarfs own" The elf explained and luckily the dragon believed him.

"I will let you take the library but if I find a single coin missing I will burn you until your bones turn to charcoal" The dragon said and buried his body in the mountains of gold again, (M/n) felt at ease knowing that he can explore the library safely, as he entered the library he was surprised to see the amount of books the dwarfs had, the library of the mountain king was like a golden gem competed to the library (M/n) had back at home

Days have passed since the elf entered the library but there was no sign of him coming out, the dragon noticed this, he didn't know why that concerned him but it just did, what if the elf died in the from the lack of food or water, finally the elf emerged from the library, thirsty, hungry and exhausted from reading day and night

The dragon, wanting to know as much as the elf himself did, made a deal with the elf, if he told him of everything he has ever read about the dragon will give him enough gold so he can buy himself food in the city on the lake not far from the mountain, the elf accepted the deal and for the next one hundred and twenty years the elf shared his stories and wisdom for the dragons gold, they became close to each other over the span of years

When the dwarfs entered the mountain when (M/n) was never a fan of humans but that didn't stop him from helping around Lake town, he usually gave gold to the poor families that lived there, he couldn't bear to see people in this kind of a situation, most of the people never saw an elf and were sceptical of one helping them, when (M/n) heard the screams of people he didn't know what was going on until he could see a raging fire and a angry dragon in the sky, burning everything in his sight

As the dragon burned the town, the bowman tried to get his attention by firing arrows at the giant dragon from the bell tower, at last the dragon turned his attention to him. Smaug lands on the houses below him crushing them in the process "Now that is a pity. What will you do now, bowman? You are forsaken. No help will come."

(M/n) looked on in horror as he noticed the black arrow on the hands of the bowman knowing that if he didn't do something he might loose his dear friend, there were not many things that could help him around a burning village, as soon as he saw a clear path that he can climb he did knowing that the buildings might fall beneath his feet and pull him with them, he didn't care, he had a plan that might save hi friend and he will try his hardest no matter what.

The dragon said in a teasing tone, eyeing the bowman and his child "Hmm. Is that your child? You cannot save him from the fire. He will burn!" The dragon said as the bowman pulled the arrow back and balanced it in his son's shoulder "Tell me, wretch, how now shall you challenge me?" The bowman smiled to himself as he noticed the dragon's missing scale

The elf knew he didn't have much time left, he drew out his bow and aimed at the arrow, while he did want to save himself he couldn't bring himself to kill the bowman or his child, he hoped for his plan to work.

"You have nothing left but your death!!!" Smaug roared as he launched himself towards them making the bowman look on in fear but keeping still to launch the arrow correctly, and so he launched the arrow.

The arrow was fast and swift while making its way to the dragon's heart, the elf launched his arrow which wasn't as fast or as fierce as the black arrow but it was small enough to fit trough the tip of the black arrow, pulling it of its course and hitting the edge of the dragon's scale instead

The bowman face was painted in horror as Smaug crashed into the bell tower, the dragon roared as he landed onto the ground making it appear as if he was dead, a small hobbit watched on from the mountain smiling as he thought the dragon was gone for good with the elf, but the dragon soon rose from the ashes of Lake Town, roaring in victory as he continued to burn the town to the ground

(M/n) smiled to himself, he knew that he probably shouldn't, many have died or lost their homes to his friend's fire, he was happy that his friend was alive, his smile faded as he he heard cracking beneath his feet, as he looked down he almost fell into the pit of fire beneath him, he was barely holding onto the leftovers of the roof as he looked for somewhere to go

"SMAUG!!!" he screamed as soon as the dragon got closer hoping that the dragon heard his calls for help,the dragoon soon landed near the roof the elf was holding onto, the dragon let the elf climb onto his back, the dragon soon flew away from the town with the elf on his back, the dragon knew the mountain, while now fully his, wasn't safe for the elf anymore, especially with those stupid dwarfs

While Smaug and (M/n) locked themselves in the mountain by blocking the main entrance with heavy rocks, the king of the elves came to collect the gems of Lasgalen, the ones who belonged to his late wife, the dwarven prince argued back, saying that the king refused to give them their rightful pay, they both declared war on each other, and so the dwarfs called for their brotheren from the iron hills for help, in the meantime the hobbit gave king Thranduil the heart of the mountain, the battle was settled to be on the dawn of the next day, the same day the orcs decided to attack the mountain kingdom

On the dawn of the next day the elven army was already in the position while the dwarfs didn't even arrive, Smaug and (M/n) looked on from the top of the entrance as the both armies were getting ready "Who do you think will win?" Smaug asked his companion, the elf though for a second "I don't know, it doesn't matter because we could just burn the rest when they are done"

Both soon noticed a wizard approaching them "(M/n) of the Woodland realm and Smaug the Terrible I beg for your help" He said after he got of his horse, before the dragon could say anything the elf spoke "How can we help?" The wizard smiled at the elf, he was still the same helpful elfling he met long time ago.

"The forces of Azog will soon arrive from the west to take the mountain for himself, we will need you and your companion on the battlefield so the tides of war may turn in our favor, in return you both shall be given a new title and praise of many" The gray wizard said as the elf looked at the dragon, the dragon though about the offer, while he hated did hate the elves and the dwarfs he did want to be written in the history as the one who took down a whole army of orcs

Both accepted the deal, after the wizard left the dragon turned to the elf "Are you sure this was a good idea?" "We will see for ourselves" (M/n) answered as he got onto the dragons back signaling him to fly, both elves and dwarfs looked in shock as the massive dragon landed between them

"Elves of the Woodland realm an the Dwarfs of the Iron Hills hear me now for I shall speak only once, the orcs and goblins are marching towards Erebor, if you seek victory then fight side by side and if you don't may the orcs end you quickly" The elf said just as the were-worms dug through the hills, making a passage for the forces of Azog

As soon as the both armies saw the many orcs and goblins they quickly rearranged themselves to prepare for the oncoming attack, the dragon son flew into the air again with the elf still on his back, Smaug unleashed his flames on orcs who burned in the matter of seconds, it was unfortunate that the dragon's fire wasn't enough to stop the whole army but it was enough to help the dwarfs and the elves

The battle was fierce, blood, bodies and fire covered the ground as the ash covered the sky, soon (M/n) found himself saving his brother from a falling bridge "I missed you" He said while holding back tears, (M/n) felt at ease knowing that his brother is safe

After the battle was over the two brothers watched the dwarfs and elves cheer in victory "So we'll be going back home now?" (M/N) asked "It's up to you to decide if you want to go back, i wish to travel as you did" (M/n) smiled at his brother "You should probably go visit Nirohnil, when he found out that ada just let you leave he said that he 'was at a loss for words' but then he proceeded to yell at ada for 2 hours straight" both of them let out a small laugh before Legolas continued "You should also visit Lindir and Elrond but after you speak with ada, he wants to have a talk with you"

(M/n) felt his body tense up after his brother said that, he was running after his father for his whole life and now that his father finally stopped waited for him it felt weird, he never expected for his father to love him no matter how hard he tried to get his attention "Are you sure you are just gonna go without even saying goodbye or attending the victory celebration?" (M/n) asked his brother "Yeah, I know ada will make me say so i will be leaving soon, you should leave now ada is waiting" he said before leaving

The elf honestly didn't know what to do, he hoped that he could just fly off to Rivendell and spend the rest of his eternity there without having to face his father ever again, in the distance he saw Smaug burn what was left of orcs, he groaned, knowing that he will need to make his own way down since there was no way Smaug could see him

After what felt like an eternity, the elf finally made his way to the elven camp, to be more specific, he was standing a few feet away from the kings main tent, he didn't know what to do or what to say, what he didn't know is that his father is in the same state "What do I even say to him?" Thranduil quietly whispered to himself as one of his guards alerted him of the suspicious elf outside, the elven king just said to call him in

The moment (M/n) stepped in Thranduil's eyes widen, he changed so much, he was no longer the elf he once resented "So.. what do you need me for?" the younger elf was the first one to speak "I just wanted to see you before you leave again" after a long uncomfortable silence they started a small talk but after some time the anxiety left them and they started to talk normally

"What do you plan to do after this?" his father asked him "Visit Nirohnil and then go to stay in Rivendell for a few months before traveling with Smaug, there is still a whole world out there that i want to explore" the king could hear the sadness in his son's voice "Did you consider staying in Mirkwood?" his father asked him "Do you want me to? i mean you are the one who banished me after all" Thranduil put a hand on (M/n)'s shoulder "You and your companion will be always welcome in my kingdom son" the elf smiled at his father's words

When the elf finally returned to his home he was pulled into a tight hug by none other than his guard, hugs weren't a usual thing in the elven culture "You absolute fool! What were you thinking!?" after spending a few months at home (M/n) left for Rivendell knowing that Elrond will also yell at him for not visiting them for such a long time

Both Lindir and Elrond were happy to see (M/n) after such a long time, (M/n) told them about the thins he read in the dwarven library, the war, the reunion with his father and about his new companion dragon

When the night came, Lindir invited the elf to watch the stars with him like they did when they were young, they were sitting my each other as their gaze was focused on the stars, soon Lindir took his hand into his making (M/n)'s gaze shift to Lindir who took in a deep breath and begean to speak "(M/n) I have something to tell you, I have been hiding my own feelings from you for a long time now, I wish I could have said this long before but I think now it’s the right time. (M/n) I love you, i always have" (M/n) smiled before answering "Remember when you tried to confess for the first time? I didn't know how to respond because i love you too, so i just pretended to fall asleep" Lindir didn't know how to respond, he didn't know how he could fall in love with such an idiot

For next 60 years both lived in peace, they got married, (M/n) and his father reconnected, the woods of Mirkwood started to heal and they adopted 2 children, Mirion and Helleron, Mirion became a traveler like his father, he promised to travel all of Middle earth with Smaug while Helleron became a great archer like her uncle, soon (M/n) noticed dark clouds from the mountain on the south, mount doom. What was the expression again?

Ah yes, the calm before the storm

710 notes · View notes

asphora · 4 years

Text

01. Technicolor | hvc

Your rules have always kept you grounded, helping you navigate a world driven by color without fail. It isn’t until you meet Hansol that you realize, sometimes, there are exceptions to the rules.

soulmate(ish) au

wc: 7402 | fluff, f!reader, modified idol!verse, cursing, best friends to lovers

a/n: I’ve finally gotten around to editing this cause I realized what a mess it was initially. I know its long, I’m such a lil bitch for long fics and world building ahhhhh ;A; lemme know what you think or don’t it’s all cool k thanks byeeee

01 . 02 . 03 . 04

Growing up in the kind of world that you do, you find that there are only a few fundamental truths one has to live by. Of course, everyone is different, but these truths you’d learned had, even in the most devastating times, held you together. This world is governed mostly by one factor and its color. It’s what sets people apart: those who can see in color, those who are in love and have found someone to love truly and unconditionally; and those who are only able to conceive of varying tones of gray, those who have yet to find love or maybe never will.

Not classes or hierarchies. Instead the world is moved by and moves through color. People, or at least most of society, like to think of it as some kind of “soulmate system”. A way by which only true happiness can be achieved. One could have multiple soulmates throughout their lives, but never more than one at a time and if one had color in their lives, they would do anything to keep it.

You on the other hand were less naive. You knew it wasn’t some kind of magic system that put two people automatically together. It surely didn’t mean that once you found someone who brought you color, it was one and done. A person could go their whole life knowing someone and only start developing color for them years down the line. It wasn’t something instantaneous and it surely wasn’t something that happened at first sight. It took time and patience, growth. Likewise, a person could go their whole lives never knowing color and living a perfectly happy and successful life. The notion that only one or the other was worth living for was a laughable notion to you.

If anything, you found that the color system was more of a poison than anything else. It was a lie people liked to buy into to feel secure in their existences and meaning in this lifetime. Color couldn’t give someone purpose just as much as it never ensured lasting love, it only ensured love in that moment. And love, you learn, is a fickle thing.

People lose and gain color every day. Once the love faded, so would the color. Of course, it was crushing. Color was like a drug, the highs leave you higher than the top of the world, while the lows left you plummeting and spiraling into an infernal abyss for months on end. You knew the experience first-hand.

That’s why some people become junkies. Almost everyone who didn’t have it was desperate to, and those who’d had it but lost it just can’t live without it once they’ve had a taste. Some even going as far as participating in underground meeting rings, illegal gatherings where sex and booze were rampant. Anything to find a connection, anything akin to love that would give them the high of seeing even the faintest tints of color in the corners of their irises, before they’d come crashing down, the cold gray hues seemingly darker than they seemed to remember and unbearably colder in comparison to the memory of color.

1. There is no such thing as soulmates.

When you first meet him, it’s at a dimly lit bar with some sort of open mic night that a close friend has invited you to come to, maybe even sing a few songs at. The place is mostly empty, save for a few regulars and scattered groups here and there that have come to listen to the performers drunkenly bare their souls out to the equally intoxicated public.

He’s there when you get on the platform stage after much coaxing from your friends, not that you really notice. Truly, you probably wouldn’t have even gone up if one of your friends hadn’t promised to shoulder the next round of drinks as long as you sang. You supposed you were just selfless like that; you’d take one for the team if it meant a round of free drinks.

On stage, you’re a bundle of nerves, but your body language is quiet and if you were shaking, you surely didn’t show it. You give a tentative nod to the person who manages the music, quietly whispering your song of choice to him. Your legs feel like jelly, but the rest of the crowd is too immersed in slightly buzzed conversation to notice.

When the music starts, the humdrum of chatter doesn’t subside and you’re thankful to be as invisible as you are, that the people don’t seem to pay too much mind to you. As you start singing though, your voice pierces through the talking like smooth whiskey down the throat of unsuspecting first-time drinker; there’s a sudden heat about the room. Something about the way your first notes hang in the cramped space and fill it completely with amber sound makes the air feel suddenly electric. There’s a sudden sizzle and tension that there wasn’t before, and the chatter of the crowd decrescendos into a whisper. All eyes on you, seemingly hanging onto every word.

Not one to revel in the spot-light or enjoy being the center of attention, you give what you think is somewhat of an awkward smile, lips upturned into a barley there smile; like remnants of a waxing or waning moon. You don’t know it, but the expression you make leaves the crowd completely disarmed; your quiet charm, along with the cooing depth of your voice capturing them all and leaving them spellbound, especially a particular regular.

The first time you hear his voice, it comes from behind you. You are at the bar sitting with friends, talking and laughing.

“I loved your number a while ago.” His voice is striking; it’s boyish but with a deep and almost gruff quality to it that made it an unmistakable sound. Such a distinct sound that seemed to effortlessly cut through the drunken laughter in the establishment. There was something almost foreign sounding about it despite the perfect syllables he let out, the subtle confidence in his tone making the hairs at the nape of your head stand. If anyone catches the shiver you let run down your spine, no one says anything.

You aren’t completely sure if he’s talking to you, so you pretend not to hear. It would have been absolutely mortifying to give a response to a stranger—an attractive sounding one at that—when he wasn’t even referring to you. So when the friend your facing taps you and points to something behind you, you feel your heart start to race.

So, he was talking to me.

“Hi?” You let out shyly, not meaning for the words to sound more like a question than a greeting. You hadn’t planned to say more after already opening so awkwardly, and being naturally quite soft spoken around strangers, you thank the universe because once your eyes land on the obviously much-too-attractive-to-be-talking-to-you male, you feel your heart jump into your throat, choking down any kind of words that may have been lingering there.

He looked like something out of a movie scene or a marble statue come to life, except that Galatea would have probably paled in comparison to his beauty. The seemingly soft but still masculine features of his face, the strong jaw—he seemed to be an Adonis in the flesh—the rest of him as equally enchanting, dressed in a crisp and clean looking dress shirt with one or two buttons too many left undone. You stop your eyes from traveling down the porcelain like skin and look into his eyes and at his face as he talks.

“I loved your song,” he flashes you a set of pearly whites held in a gummy smile as he talks, the expression reaching his eyes in a way that felt so sincere and too genuine. When he smiled like this, he didn’t seem nearly as mysterious as he sounded with your back turned, and you feel yourself relax, returning his smile with your own.

“From um, a while ago, I mean I guess you only sang one song though...” He rambles on, his hand moving to scratch the nape of his head.

It’s a shock to your senses, albeit quite refreshing though, how such an attractive individual could be so confident yet simultaneously awkward. It makes a giggle bubble up from inside you and spill out softly, as you reply, “Thanks.”

He chuckles a bit, the sounds of both of your laughter intertwining in a hush. There was something about him that was just so charming. You couldn’t help but feel slightly more relaxed despite just meeting him.

“Um, is this seat taken?” He points to the vacant barstool next to you, the pads of his fingers lightly grazing the leather of the stool. You meet his eyes and he’s patiently waiting for your response, eyes watching you with a soft but also curious expression. As if saying, I want to talk to you some more, do you want to talk to me some more?

Yes.

“No, it isn’t.” You reply, eyes lingering on him just a little too long, as he fills the space next to you. When he’s secure in his seat, he looks back at you and you pretend to busy yourself with drink in your hand. If he notices, he doesn’t let on and you’re glad he’s a gentleman like that.

He watches you swirl the liquid around, dainty fingers against the cool glass. “Can I get your next one?” He offers, eyeing the hard liquor in your glass. He’s hoping he isn’t sounding too forward, the nerves in his stomach settling momentarily then running a rampage the instant he hears you giggle.

“You’re offering to buy my next drink, but I don’t even know you.” The words come out as a soft but confident drawl. If he had color, he would have noticed the slight blush playing at your cheeks at how forward you’re being. It isn’t something you’d usually say, but something about this boy and the whiskey in your blood was making your heart do somersaults, pushing the blood to your head that was already swimming from the alcohol, effectively boosting your confidence and lowering your inhibitions.

“You don’t seem like you’re trying to get me drunk though,” you admit before he can formulate any kind of come-back, “you seem like a nice guy.”

You offer him a softer smile, one that isn’t so teasing, and that’s all it takes to lessen the tension that’s built up in his stomach and shoulders.

“My name’s Vernon.” He says the name with a different accent and it sparks a crinkle in your brow.

“That can’t be your real name.” You retort and he almost chokes on the swig he’s taking from his drink at how unusual your reaction is. It wasn’t like he didn’t look like a foreigner, and yet here you were, a perfect stranger, questioning the validity of his identity.

“It is my real name.” He counters, his voice losing the nervous edge, replaced by the playful and almost whining tone of a child who desperately wanted you to believe him, despite having been completely caught in the act.

“Oh c’mon! What’s your Korean name then?” You roll your eyes in a joking manner and he fights a smile that’s slowly getting wider on his lips, desperately biting it down with his teeth as he’s shaking his head.

“I’ll show you yours if you show me mine.” You raise an eyebrow at his innuendo but decide not to call him out on it. Instead you’re laughing at how silly this all feels. All over one name, not even his full one at that, the two of you were already crossing lines that wouldn’t have usually been crossed by a regular pair who’d just met. The strangeness of the situation isn’t lost on you, but you give in and tell him your name anyway.

He listens intently, repeating the syllables of your name again in a whisper. Drinking up the syllables as if it is something for only him to hear and know, imprinting the name into the soft skin of his lips before he proceeds to tell you his.

“Hansol, it’s Hansol.” He tells you, almost dejectedly and you nod. It wasn’t bad at all, you thought, trying to figure out why he’d wanted to hide it from you, when it rolled of your tongue so much more effortlessly compared to Vernon.

When you don’t immediately reply or say anything, quietly musing his name to yourself, he tries to fill the space with idle talk, “You know, Hansol, like Han-solo from Star Wars?”

His remark pulls you completely out of your reverie and into a fit of laughter. If you had been trying to be soft and dainty just a few moments ago, that was clearly out the door now; tilting your head slightly back and covering your mouth to suppress your sounds.

“It was fine before you said all that. I mean, was that supposed to be a save?”

“Yeah! Star Wars is cool.” He defends. His tone completely serious, pressing down on the last syllable, saying it as though it’s the highest universal truth there is, completely unswayed by your laughter which it at this point thankfully dying down.

“Wait, don’t tell me you don’t like Star Wars, because honestly that’s a deal breaker for me.” This time his smile is back, accompanied with light laughter and you can tell he’s joking now.

“Oh my gosh, how can someone so good looking be such a dork?”

He’s just as surprised at the words that tumble out of your mouth along with your laughter, and it makes him do a double take at you, “Wait, you think I’m good looking?”

There’s something about his completely stunned and dumbfounded expression that stops you from feeling even a single bit of shame or embarrassment at your slip up. Instead you steal your expression, look him in the eye and let the tension of silence pull for just a few more seconds before exhaling a disappointed sigh, “No, I don’t like Star Wars.”

He blinks. Once, twice. As if his brain is too slow to register the words, his eyes staring into your completely serious ones.

“Aw, shit.” The sound is completely disappointed, as he shakes his head in dismay, desperately trying to hold on to the serious facade. he can’t help the laugh that accompanies it, and the sound is so musical and sincere that it breaks your poker face. “I guess we’ll just have to watch it together so you can gain some taste.”

“It’s pretty cocky for you to assume I’d say yes to a second date, don’t you think?” You counter, taking a sip and finishing your drink.

“It’s pretty cocky of you to assume that I’m asking you out on a date, or that this is even considered one,” he smirks, “don’cha think?”

Fuck, he got you there.

His laughter reassures you that the exchange is purely in jest though and you laugh along with him, lifting your empty glass to your face in an attempt to hide your embarrassment.

“We can make it one though, if you want?” Your laughter subsides, your embarrassment slowly following suit at his question.

“What do you mean?”

“I can buy you that next drink and we can call it a date?” His eyes look anywhere but at your face and your confusion turns into fluttering in your stomach. His sudden shyness effectively calming the wild horse that is your heart in that moment.

“Sure, I guess.” you drawl and his entire frame perks up, eyes landing on you with what you could only describe as a shocked puppy dog expression, before calling out to the bartender for another two drinks.

That night you learn that Vernon is actually his middle name—his mom’s maiden name—and that he uses it ‘cause it usually sounds cooler than Hansol. To which you reply a jumbled, Hansol is just as cool though. You learn that his dad is Korean, and that he has a younger sister he adores. He says he loved your singing voice since he can’t, for the life of him, even hold a fucking tune. You learn that he actually likes rapping though and that while he’s working on other things, he’s an aspiring rapper and musician.

You learn that his eyes have a different sparkle when he’s talking about rapping and that you could probably listen to him for days on end just going on and on about it. You learn the way a soft smile naturally lifts the corners of his lips when he talks about his sister, Sofia, and how wonderful she is. You learn that he’s a good listener and that he nods a lot when he wants to show you he’s listening despite his eyes sometimes being far off if they aren’t intently staring and boring holes, and you learn that despite the initial awkwardness and the embarrassing first conversation you shared, he’s really easy to talk to.

When both of you are quite buzzed already, whether from the alcohol or high off each other, you’re both talking in quieter, hushed tones, sitting closer at the now, less populated bar.

“I’m guessing you have color, huh?” You can hear the disappointment in his tone as he trains his eyes on the liquid in his glass, as if it will suddenly respond to him.

“If you’re asking that glass of wine, I doubt she can answer.” You joke, nudging his shoulder lightly, “But I can’t tell you what color she is either, cause it’s all gray for me too.”

At your words, he slowly lifts his head to meet your amused gaze. “Don’t tell me you believe in that soulmate bullshit, ‘cause that would really be a deal breaker.” You echo his words from earlier, still smiling, but watching intently for his reaction.

You’re relieved when he smiles and shakes his head, “No, no, I don’t.” He lets out a breath he seems to have been holding in a laugh, “There’s no such thing as soulmates.”

“Have you ever had it?” you ask tentatively, not wanting to pry, but knowing that Hansol will let you down easy if it’s something he doesn’t want to talk about.

“No, never.” Is his quick response. “Have you?”

“Yeah, once.” You reply. This time it’s your turn to talk to your glass of whiskey, finding the liquid more forgiving than human interaction, “It was a long time ago.”

He doesn’t ask further and if he notices any sadness about you in that moment, he doesn’t call it out.

“So, wait, shouldn’t you know what color wine is then?” Instead, he opts to make you laugh. “I mean, since you’ve had color before, right?”

He doesn’t fail and you find yourself leaning into the strong muscle of his arm as you laugh. “It’s maroon or plum, but really dark,” you tell him, “but since you’ve never seen color, you don’t know what I’m talking about so...”

He laughs with you at the silliness of it all and despite the tones of gray that fill your sight, you think that this is how the memory of color feels like. Not quite the same, but something like the remnants of a dream after waking up; familiar but distant and foreign all at the same time.

You’d been friends for months now, keeping in close contact since that fateful night you met, but it felt like you’d known each other for lifetimes. His friends—all twelve of whom you’d already met at this point—often joke that you’re practically dating already (despite both of you deciding and explaining to all of them that you would stay friends first, and adamantly denying their accusations). Often berating Hansol with taunts of: “You don’t have to hide it from us, we’re practically family” or the common trick of crashing yours and Hansol’s hangouts and movie nights at his place while asking as casually as possible, “Hey Hansol, does my outfit today match?” or “Hansol, what color is this?” while holding up a random object trying to trip the boy up.

In times of desperation, they’d even go as far as try to trip you up with their relentless questioning, with you happily playing along, teasing them just as hard and trying to fool them back.

“Do you think the color of Hansol’s eyes are pretty?” Mingyu asks as you’re sitting on the couch next to Hansol while reading a book.

“Mingyu, don’t bother her.” Hansol reprimands unenthusiastically as he flips through the channels on the television.

“Yeah, they’re a really pretty shade, Gyu.” You drawl out, almost lazily, not even bothering to look up from your book.

Mingyu practically jumps at your words and Hansol almost drops the remote, both needing to do a double take at you from the shock your words elicit.

“I knew it, Hansol! I fucking knew it!” the former screams and practically bolts out of the living room area into a bedroom, running back to where you were with two socks in his hands.

Calling out to you, he holds one sock in each hand. “Tell me the colors of each sock!”

He’s so excited that it’s a struggle to keep your face completely deadpan, but you manage it for the sake of the punch line. You look at the socks for a while as if studying them closely and from your peripheral vision, you can already see that Hansol’s caught on and his fighting that adorable gummy smile of his from showing.

“This one,” you point to the sock in Mingyu’s left hand, “is gray.” Pointing to the other in his right, “And this one is dark gray.”

Hansol’s laughter is wild and roaring before you can even finish. His mouth is wide open, his eyes squinted from the laughter and he’s clapping like a monkey who’d just been told he’d won a lifetime supply of bananas. Grabbing your neck, Hansol pulls you in for some kind of hug that, really feels more like a wrestling move, his other hand snaking around your waist, pulling you flush to him and squeezing you. You laugh as you let him, your book discarded somewhere on the couch as your hands move to his head, ruffling the hair there.

“That’s right!” he laughs, your name mixing with his laughter, as he’s rubbing the hair on your head. To add insult to Mingyu’s injury, he continues at you, “I love your beautiful gray eyes too!”

The taller boy says nothing, his face twisting up in irritation as he throws the socks at you and Hansol as he glares at the two of you, a pile of tangled, laughing limbs.

"We love each other so much!” You say with sarcasm dripping from your tone, as you hook your leg along Hansol’s while he’s making sloppy, disgusting, and wet kissing sounds.

“You guys suck so much.” Is all Mingyu can retort, his bottom lip jutting out in what is probably the most convincing puppy dog pout both you and Hansol have ever seen.

“Aw, c’mon, Gyu, don’t be like that. You know we’re just playing with you.” Hansol laughs, putting on his best gummy smile and flashing it at him, trying to butter the taller male up, to no avail.

“Besides,” you add, siding with Hansol, “you know Sol and I are friends, serves you right trying to tease is like that.”

Hansol hugs your face into the crook of his neck, silencing you, muffling whatever words you plan to say next, and preventing from further irritating the already frustrated Mingyu.

“Just shut up and let me do the talking, you suck at getting on people’s good sides” Hansol whispers into your hair, muffled but just loud enough for you to hear.

You shake free of the headlock and look accusingly at him, “What the heck do you mean by that? I got on your good side, didn’t I?”

He gives you a barely convincing disgusted expression before saying, “I mean, did you? Did you really?”

Your jaw drops in mock disbelief and with your hands that are already wrapped around him, you reach for his ticklish spots which you know by heart. Laughing and desperately wriggling in an attempt to get free, Hansol tickles you right back, also knowing your weak spots by heart. You wrestle until both of you decide to call a truce, neither able to breathe or take the other down.

As yours and Hansol’s laughter dies down, Mingyu plops down on the couch next to the tangled mess of tired limbs which are you and Hansol. He ignores the two of you, grabbing the remote and casually flipping through the channels.

“Whatever.” He pipes up after a few seconds, “When you guys finally realize you’re in love, I’ll be right and you’re gonna eat your words.” His tone is so childish and butt-hurt that you almost expect him to stick his tongue out at both of you.

The mental image, along with his tone, have you on the brink of laughter as you desperately attempt to bite it down by physically biting down on your lower lip. Hansol notices your face, knowing full well what is going through your head by the looks of you tearing up from fighting your laughter so hard. His jaw drops in an open-mouthed silent laugh and just when his expression is about to drive you off the edge, he clamps a hand down on your mouth and hugs your head into the crook of his neck again with his free hand, the two of you shaking from the silent bubbles of laughter finally erupting.

Despite the way you both initially met, after countless late nights spent exploring your shared ideas on humanity and existence, you two had decided not to rush into anything, neither of you in any particular hurry to put a label on what you were. And while you were both obviously attracted to each other, the pressure of having to lock it down, wasn’t something that either of you felt looming above your heads.

It wasn’t so much that commitment was a big and daunting thing. It was just that everything was so effortless. You and Hansol both knew this. While most people feared destroying a good friendship with romantic feelings, Hansol was extremely chill, telling you honestly that he just wanted to be friends first and see where that would both take you. whatever it was that you two had simply flowed and ebbed like a river; wherever you turned he turned, wherever he was rocky and shaky, you easily followed suit, ridding the highs and lows with him. Simply being with each other, laughing, talking, it was always enough.

You were thankful for this arrangement, because despite having already experienced color, you were in no rush to do so again. If you were truly being honest with yourself—which admittedly most times, you were no good at—you knew the real reason you were so relieved he’d decided to keep things casual was because you were still wounded from the last time someone had loved you and only left you hurt. While most people were adamant about labels and defining their relationships, you were more than happy to be, and remain in the gray area—both visually and in your relationship with Hansol.

So when it starts, you don’t notice it at first. It’s slow and gradual, and with living day-to-day life, with Hansol practically always by your side, with the amount of sleepovers, parties, hangouts and movie nights you had, you barely picked up on it. You suppose color is sneaky like that. It’s isn’t glaringly obvious until it’s there, and it isn’t there until you notice it is. It creeps up on you, slowly trickling into your vision like poison, but once you saw it, it wasn’t something that could be ignored or unseen; like a burning car, once you had seen it, you just couldn’t look away.

It’s just a regular day when it happens. You’re walking down the street with Hansol and he’s talking animatedly, hands flailing and mouth wide, as he tells you about a new producer he’s met who wants to take him in as an apprentice. You’re watching him intently, unable to fight the smile that pulls on your lips as you watch him talk so passionately, completely in his own bubble as if the rest of the world doesn’t exist. That’s when you see it.

Just behind the gray of his hoody, peaking behind the gray of the looming buildings in the distance. The sky. Something bubbles up in your stomach, a familiar feeling you can’t quite name and don’t try to. You’re too focused on what you’re seeing. As you walk, your eyes are trained in the distance, as if trying to really scrutinize the clouds. They were the same kind of clouds you saw every day, gray and wide dancing in the expanse, but something was different today that you couldn’t quite place.

You almost stop right where you’re standing, his words meting away into the background noise, when you see it, really see it. It’s fairly light at first, like something playing on the edges of your vision, forcing you to chase it like something running at the corner of your eye. As elusive as it was, you could also feel it pulling all your attention, seemingly hypnotizing you. It’s barely there in your peripheral, but when you focus enough on the sight it’s unmistakable.

Blue.

A soft shed of pale blue brushes at the edges and seemingly melts into the gray expanse of your vision. If you hadn’t had color before, you probably wouldn’t have noticed it this early, but you recognize the color all too well, its vibrance becoming increasingly opaque the more you let yourself focus on it. Suddenly, the gray seems a little less gray and more tinted, like cellophane over your irises.

It’s beautiful.

You look to Hansol who is still talking, completely unaware as you match his stride. He and the rest of your vision is predominantly gray, save for tints of blues and hues caught in the corners of your eyes. Suddenly, as you watch him, you heart starts drumming in your chest, increasing in speed and crescendoing in your ears as you realize what’s happening and what this all means.

You were falling in love with him.

Oh, fuck.

2. Color is just a feeling; don’t get too carried away.

You should leave. You know this better than anyone. You have always been the most rational person you knew and every instinct and hair in your body is telling you to run. If your fight or flight instincts had their way, you’d be soaring miles from his tiny apartment; you would cut the proverbial chord before it strangled you, before something great turned into something horrible. So, two months later, when you are lying in Hansol’s bed with him, just talking, you wonder where all the rationality you’d prided yourself with has gone.

Neither of you were even naked, but lying like that, face to face, both of you with hands tucked under your head and talking about fearing failure and career paths, it was enough to get your head swimming. By this point, you could already see pretty much every color in the spectrum and Hansol was pretty much in color, save for his eyes and hair, along with some hues on his clothes that still remained relatively grey.

“I just don’t want to give it my everything and find out that I’m just no good, y’know?” Hansol’s warm breath brushes your face as he talks and you shut your eyes as you listen, desperately trying to ignore the existence of color and just wanting to be there for someone you cared about deeply.

“You are good, Sol.” You reassure him, opening your eyes and looking directly and only into his grey ones, “Your producer, she wouldn’t have taken you in if she didn’t think you weren’t good.”

“I knew you’d say that, but you’re just saying that ‘cause you love me though.” His words make your breath catch and you almost choke on it. You fight the fear and stress that rises in your chest, closing your eyes and slowing your heart rate down with deep steady breaths.

“I mean, okay, I’m good.” He continues and you’re thankful that he’s completely oblivious to your predicament. “But what if this is it? What if I’m just good and this is the best I could ever be?”

“What do I do if one day, I realize while I’m good, maybe I’m just not good enough to reach my dreams?” You listen intently to his words and focus only on the undertone of panic and sadness in his voice before opening your eyes to meet his deeply worried ones.

You’re quiet for a few seconds, watching him. All thoughts of color or hiding your feelings are out the window, and all you see is him. Your precious Hansol who is baring his soul to you, tormented by his thoughts and his aching heart. Thoughtlessly, your free hand reaches to cup his cheek and he closes his eyes, melting into your touch and leaning into it.

“Then you keep dreaming that same dream and keep working on yourself until you get it. Even if you think it won’t work out, I know you, Sol, you’d rather die trying than ever give up.”

You rub soft circles into the soft and supple skin of his cheek, “With a heart like that, how could you ever fail?” The words make his lids flutter open, then you see it.

Brown. His eyes are brown, and they are the most beautiful fucking thing I have ever seen.

He smiles, touched by your words, as you return the expression. You feel heat prickling your eyes and tears quickly filling them and slightly blurring your vision. You breathe out a shaky laugh, rolling your eyes to diffuse the moment and in an attempt to hide the tears you know he’s already noticed. “You’re turning me into a fucking softie, Sol, I swear to god.”

He laughs, taking you into his arms and pulling you flush against him, burying your head in his chest so he can no longer see your face, because he knew you hated letting anyone see you cry.

“Sorry.” He exhales the word into your hair through a laugh, “But seriously, what would I fucking do without you?”

“You’re the best.” And there they were. The three words that seemed to override any rational thought, any fear or better judgment you had. Three words you lived and breathed for, that kept you here, in his bed, in his arms every time you came to your senses and tried to run. The moment you heard them; you melted every time.

Breathing in his scent, you wrap your hands gently around his waist, returning the hug and letting the tears spill from your eyes. Game over. Your worst fear had finally come to fruition; not that there would be nothing left that you could do to fight this, but worse, that you didn’t want to.

The two of you fall asleep like that.

You are a really fucking good liar when you want to be, you realize; still perfectly playing the role of the wonderful doting best friend. Never mind that you’d often cry yourself to sleep on the rare nights you slept alone in your own apartment, or the lingering longing glances you gave Hansol when he wasn’t looking. As far as anyone was concerned, those moments of visceral lucidity did not exist. If you had been broken hearted over your unrequited love, there was absolutely no sign, none would be the wiser and you were going to keep it that way.

That aching heart, the lonely and isolating pang of jealousy you felt whenever women flirted with Hansol, the almost unbearable need to reach out for his pale hand as you walked down the street, the burn in your chest and on your skin that you felt whenever you two were alone and Hansol was in a particularly touchy and clingy mood—fuck ‘em. They weren’t real if you didn’t acknowledge them and this feeling wasn’t real as long as you didn’t say anything.

You’d die a thousand deaths in a million lifetimes before you let yourself ruin something as wonderful as your friendship with Hansol. So, you continue the charade, lying to Hansol, to your shared group of friends and even to yourself.

I’m fine, I’m okay. This is fine.

“Hey, so I have this gig tomorrow down at that bar where we first met, d’you remember the place?” Hansol’s question tears you from your thoughts and you take a few larger strides to match his pace. If he was paying more attention, which he usually did fairly well, he would have been taking smaller steps to match your pace, but since he was busy looking at the items on display as the two of you walked through the park bazaar, he was absentmindedly walking at his normal pace.

“Yeah, of course I remember.” You reply, now beside him, “Don’t think I could ever forget the day a stray decided to cling to me and never let go. By the way, his name was Hansol, if you were curious.”

“Oh, so I’m a puppy now?” He laughs.

“Seriously? A puppy, Sol? Don’t kid yourself. You’re not nearly as cute as puppy.” You quip, eying the small trinkets and pastries in the stalls.

“Har har, you’re so funny.” He rolls his eyes, but there’s a smile playing on his lips, “Why don’t you leave the witty remarks to me, huh?”

“Okay, Mr. Rapper-Man-Who-Walks-Way-Too-Fast-For-His-Friend.” You joke, bequeathing him with a new title on the spot.

Finally, he looks up at you from the various goods, and gives you a sheepish gummy smile. “Oh shit, sorry.”

You laugh, “It’s okay, you big loser. Just stop leaving me behind.”

“Here,” he raises his elbow, offering it to you, “so that I don’t forget to walk slower and so that you don’t get left behind. It’s a win-win, loser.”

You don’t hesitate to link your arm with his own. It’s nothing, friends can do this kind of thing, you tell yourself, it would have been more suspicious if you’d declined and made it a weird thing.

Arms now linked, the two of you resume walking and talking—Hansol being the one doing most of the latter, telling you about his gig.

“Anyway, my producer said they were so impressed with my demo, they wanted me to—Hey, look!” He stops walking, the abrupt stop causing you to jerk as you get caught in his arm.

“This is really pretty,” He holds up the scarf to your hair, as if to check if it matched. He was always like this, mister fashion expert, always offering advice on what looked nice with what kind of shape or style, of course, despite the fact that he was practically blind to color.

“Lavender really brings out the color of your eyes and it matches your outfit...” He trails off, eyes widening. His mouth opens and closes without a sound like a fish, he shakes his head and the panic that’s all over his face makes him look even paler than he usually is. It looks like he’s about to throw up before something shifts in his eyes. His shoulders sag as he sighs and he closes his mouth resolutely, his eyes lingering sadly at you, then to the ground in shame.

You gaze at his face that’s now completely crestfallen, your expression of surprise plastered to your face for seconds that, to Hansol, seem to last forever. Fighting the elation that bubbles up from your stomach and fills your chest, your eyes dart everywhere except to Hansol’s face which you can’t bear to see so dejected for even another second. You look through the various items on sale, arm still linked through his and lightly tugging him along with you, until you find the perfect one.

“This!” you practically shout, making Hansol flinch and pulling him out of his deflated state. In your hand you hold it up to his face, a navy-blue beanie. “I think this will go really well with the blue undertones in your hair,” you smile sheepishly hoping he would get the message, “y’know since you dyed it silver last month.”

He stares at you, beanie in hand, his face expressionless and his eyes wide but unreadable. You worry that maybe he hadn’t gotten the hint and so you turn to the other various things on sale and pick up a phone case. “And this, this uh,” you look at the bright yellow phone case, “really brings out the brown of your eyes?”

It was a stretch you had to admit, and suddenly you felt absolutely embarrassed. Nice going, real smooth, you thought. Hansol unlinks his arm from yours and the action, along with his accompanying laugh cuts through your thoughts and completely catches you off guard. The sound makes you panic, simultaneously making your heart race and your stomach drop.

You start to spiral, putting the items down as your mind raced a hundred miles per hour. Oh shit, did I read it wrong? Maybe he was just kidding? Fuck, was he just puling a prank and I—before you can spiral any further, you feel the warmth of his palms on either side of your face, thumbs rubbing your cheeks in soothing motions and forcing you to look into the dazzling brown of his eyes.

“I got it the first time,” He smiles as he says your name, once again flashing that heart-melting gummy smile of his, this time even more disarming and seemingly brighter than you had ever seen it. He was smiling fully, with completely abandon, to the point that it looked like maybe it hurt.

“I’m not stupid, y’know.” The lighthearted comment catches you, once again off guard, making you laugh.

“Really? I didn’t notice since you’re always being a dumbass.”

“By the way,” his hands are still gently cupping either side of your face, “it’s pretty bold of you to assume that you’re the one I’m in love with?” He mocks, echoing his words from the night you two first met.

Surprised but not thrown off by his words, you pretend to play along and give him a taste of his own medicine. Feigning shock and dismay, you back away slightly but not enough for him to untangle himself from you, “It’s not like you hang out with any other girls, but—oh god,” you gasp, and his eyes widen. You can tell from his face that he thinks his joke has gone too far and he’s about to clarify the joke, but you beat him to it, “Don’t tell me you’re in love with Seungkwan?”

His worry immediately dissipates and he’s back to laughing, albeit there’s a slight fake annoyance in his expression as he rolls his eyes and grabs you in a playful chokehold.

“Fuck you, okay,” he laughs, “Just fuck you.”

“Serves you right, you fuckin’ loser!” You laugh despite his grip on you, “I can’t believe I’m in love with such a fucking asshole.”

Loosening his grip and letting you stand, but still keeping his hands on you, he looks you in the eyes and firmly tells you, “I’m in love with you too, you’ve brought color to my life.”

It takes a second before the very intense but tender moment sinks in for both of you, before you simultaneously crinkle your noses and exclaim, “ew.”

“That was too much, Sol.”

“Ugh, I know right, sorry,” he says, slinging his arm around your shoulders as you finally resume walking, “I thought it would be romantic and cute like in the movies, they always make it so good.”

“That’s why those are movies, Sol,” you intertwine your fingers with the hand that he has around your shoulders, “If you ever do that again, I’ll punch you in the dick.”

“Honestly, I would let you.” He nods, and you both laugh.

Fin.

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