#managers hate it when i want clarification on things

[itstimeforstarwars]

I have never been rejected from a job application so quickly before. I did their stupid little job proficiency exam and they sent a rejection email in five minutes.

[youcancallmeelle]

Are we on the same side?

Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI!!!)

Word count: 8K

Pairing: Separated husband!Joel Miller x wife!reader

Summary: Joel and you are trialling temporary separation due to repeated arguments with one another after nearly twenty years of marriage.

He returns to the marital home to do you a favour, flirting ensues and the sexual tension gets out of hand because of course it does.

You may need some clarification on what you are…

AO3

You put up the hearts, and I'll put up both my aces Not very far apart Still on different pages

Before having kids, you used to take every moment of your life for granted. 

You were just a kid yourself back then, when you had two babies with a boy who shared your class and you were so in love you couldn’t fathom a life without him. For years you were Mama, the person who fed them and changed them, bathed them and rocked them to sleep. You worked night shifts while the love of your life worked in the day, all so food could be put on the table and an apartment could be kept to keep you all warm and safe. It wasn’t until a few years ago when your kids gained their own independence that you slowly started to regain your own life back, now you were nearly forty and working a job that gave you more freedom even if the stress levels have gotten to you more than once and your marriage… well that’s a separate issue on its own. 

You’d spent the morning doing things you wanted to, thanking whoever that your kids were teenagers who could do their own breakfast and helped with chores without coaxing. You’ve been to pilates and the salon and had your infills done, your nails a glossy shade of pillar box red in an almond shape and your toes the same colour. You’d even managed to grab a Starbucks and sipped it languidly as you people watched from the safety of your car, enjoying your chosen playlist on Spotify without the bluetooth getting hijacked. The icing on the cake though? The fact you got to shower at home without someone barging in to ask for foundation or to borrow your strapless bra or your new Adidas Superstars. 

It’s mid way through Saturday afternoon that your relaxation comes skidding to a halt in the form of your jaded lover knocking heavily against the pane of glass on your front door, the irritating noise makes you scowl and you drag your feet to answer it. 

You crack it open, familiar brown eyes stare at you and yours narrow back. 

“What are you doing here?” You ask flatly, the male on the other side picks up on your terse mood and his shoulders rise defensively. If it wasn’t for the little disagreement you’d had a few days prior on the phone over something as mundane as renewing car insurance, you’d have probably been more excited to see him but the way he can sometimes undermine you really grates on your nerves, you hate that he gets so swept up in work that he comes home and talks to you like he’s your foreman. 

The minute he’d started questioning your choice like a fucking know it all, you’d merely hung up in irritation, refusing to answer when he’d called you back twice to apparently try and patch it over. You’d read the I’m sorry and I love you more than you’ll ever know text he sent after over and over, trying to figure out how things had come to this. 

Nearly two decades together, married, with children and a house. You and Joel Miller have been torn apart by too many petty arguments that end with you sobbing and him walking away, you’d had to call it and come up with a possible solution with the marriage counsellor before it was too late. 

He huffs and lifts his hand, showing you the toolbox you’ve seen many times with its contents strewn about somewhere in your house. 

“A little birdie told me that you’re in need of a repair.” Joel’s lip twists at the side when your mood seems to perk just a fraction, there’s multiple things that need a little TLC right now but he can certainly worm his way back into your good books with a good old fashioned repair. You can only assume the little birdie was Sarah or Ellie. 

You open the door fully and step backwards so all six foot something of him can meander through your front door, he wipes his feet on the welcome mat and toes his sneakers off, nudging them into the neat space where a tattered pair of Vans have been kicked off hard enough to scuff the wall and a pair of spotless ankle boots have been nicely placed beside your shoes. 

“Where’s the babies?” He frowns, looking around and noticing the lack of noise. 

You smile as you shut the door behind him as he refers to the girls as his babies, despite Sarah being eighteen and Ellie just turned fourteen. 

With them both being girls, he’s soft anyway but Sarah is his first born who made him a father and Ellie’s still his tiny baby who he’s soaked up every second of when she was a newborn because you both knew you weren’t having any more children.

“At the movies together watching Twisters, Garret backed out on Sarah so Ellie went instead.” You inform him, sneaking an appreciative glance from the corner of your eye. 

Joel makes a noise at the mention of Sarah’s boyfriend, never having liked him for whatever reason, you think it’s because they’re eerily alike so therefore clash. 

“Little prick will be back hangin’ around here next week.” He grumbles, placing his toolbox on the bottom step.  

“She’s just going through the universal thing of falling for a country boy.” You tease. 

“Well as long as he don’t get her pregnant before graduation then we won’t have a problem.”

“She’s smarter than us.” You say. 

“I know.” Joel agrees, you sneak one more glance at the country boy who got you pregnant before graduation. 

He’s wearing slim fitting black sweatpants with a worn grey t-shirt with a faded motif on, the chain of his St Christopher barely noticeable beneath it and his thick rimmed glasses are perched on his nose. 

You miss the hungry look he shoots you when you turn away, chestnut coloured eyes drifting low to the denim shorts you wear that he’s sure you’ve had since you were in your twenties. They fit snug and are contoured perfectly to the shape of your ass, your cheeks barely peeking out. What really makes his dick hard is the fact you’re wearing one of his sweatshirts, an old Dallas Cowboys one that you’ve always been particularly fond of. 

“Nice flowers. Who got ya those?” He nods with a smirk towards the vase on the side table that’s filled with blooming peonies and baby’s breath. 

The beautiful arrangement of flowers had arrived the morning after your petty argument with Joel, a gift from the universe if you will when you needed something bright and blooming to drag you out of the despair you were frantically becoming encased in. 

“Oh.” You hum and feign ignorance, reaching out to gently touch the edge of a baby pink peony. “Just a friend.” You smile vaguely, Joel rolls his eyes. “Beautiful, aren’t they?”

“A guy sent them?” He presses, shifting his weight, your grin turns devious. 

“Mmm.” You coo, feeling thrilled when that lick of annoyance flickers across your husband’s face at your flippant tone. 

“Who?” He grins back.

“I’m not telling you.” 

“Come on, I just wanna talk to him, I wanna know why he thinks it’s okay to send my wife flowers.” 

“Ex wife.” You snort, Joel glares at you. 

“We’re separated, not divorced. Y’know what, we’re barely even separated.” He disagrees, you bite the inside of your cheek in amusement. 

“Apparently you’re here to fix my shelves and you’re doing a whole lot of yapping, very unprofessional of you.” You goad, stepping backwards when he begins to saunter towards you with a certain look in his eyes. 

“I’ll fix your shelves, I’ll fix anythin’ you want.” Joel mumbles, stalking you. 

“Big promises.” You taunt, lifting your chin defiantly. His hands grasp your waist, pulling you to him and you let him, leaning up to wrap your arms around his neck. 

You love this, the playful behaviour and flirting since you decided to live apart for a while. It feels new and exciting, a rush that you felt when you first got together as youngsters just before your world flipped and you were pregnant before your frontal lobe had developed. 

He smells delectable, you can’t stop yourself from nosing at his bearded jaw where his cologne is the strongest. Joel’s throat bobs, his fingers drift upwards under your borrowed sweatshirt to feel the bare skin between your shorts and bra. 

As his structured jaw slides across yours and his nose just barely brushes your own, you feel his breath hit your lips and you know he really wants to kiss you but is waiting for you to make the first move. 

You want to, you really do but you’re scared of falling into a false sense of security when you haven’t even scratched the surface of your underlying problems that the marriage counsellor suggested needed to be covered before you could get back on track. 

Joel enjoys the way your head fits against his collarbone, loves the sweet smell of your hair and skin. 

“Fix my shelf.” You huff into his skin as you retreat, he sighs deeply but picks up his toolbox and begins to follow you up the stairs with his eyes glued to your backside. 

It almost feels strange for Joel to be back in your shared bedroom after three weeks away, he hasn’t been back for any extra clothes or personal items. If he’s come over to see the kids, then he’s stayed downstairs or in the garden with them. 

Everything looks the same which is a strange observation given that really you’ve barely been apart for any time at all but it’s comforting to be back. 

The bed is made in its usual dress up of plain white sheets with useless throw pillows stacked neatly, there’s a pile of clean laundry resting on your vanity chair but also clothes tossed on the floor where you’ve been indecisive. 

Joel whistles when he sees the closet door open and the fallen shelf leaning against the door, there’s a scrape on the inside wall where it’s collided and taken the paint off. It looks like a fairly simple job, the wall plugs have probably come loose over time and needed replacing, it’s not as if IKEA is known for making indestructible furniture. 

“You want the step ladder?” You question as he surveys the situation, rubbing the wall with his fingertips to see if the scrape will alleviate some. 

“I think so.” He replies. “They in the garage?” 

“No, Ellie’s room, she was trying to hang some fairy lights earlier but only got halfway before she threw a fit about the command hooks.” You chuckle, wandering off to go retrieve them for him, already certain he’s made a note to finish the job for her before he leaves. 

When you get back, he’s got some tools ready, his drill in hand already. He steps onto the bottom rung of the step ladder, groaning as he stretches. 

You observe for a moment, knowing it irks him, he hates being watched on a job.

“Jesus, it’s fuckin’ dusty up here. You’re a terrible housewife, neglectin’ your duties.” Joel pokes, knowing you won’t take a blind bit of notice. 

“You wanna know why we really separated? Because you neglected your duties as a husband to satisfy your wife.” You reply easily, Joel chuckles and looks down at you. 

“Oh spare me the dramatics, you’ve never been unsatisfied by me in your whole entire life.” He sings, infuriatingly he isn’t wrong. 

“I’m telling the kids you were being sexist to me.” You threaten, chewing on a sinister smile. “Ellie will beat you up.” 

“She won’t.” Joel grins, you mumble out a complaint. “She’s a daddy’s girl, maybe try your luck with Sarah, I’m sure she’d give me a lecture.” Not that you think he needs one, he’s the biggest supporter of you and his girls. 

“They’re both Daddy’s girls, the little traitors. Nine whole months carrying them and giving birth after what felt like days and days with no fucking pain relief and this is the thanks I get? Not to mention my nipples being sucked raw.” You grumble to yourself, kicking some laundry into a pile at the side of the wall, Joel makes you jump when he groans suddenly.

“Just sayin’ but your tits were amazin’ when you were breastfeedin’ - shit, they’re still fucking phenomenal.” He sighs dreamily, closing his eyes. “Fuck, you were so hot carryin’ my babies, I’d have kept you pregnant if I had my way.” 

You bite your cheeks to hide the satisfaction that your husband still wants you. 

“You can’t say stuff like that to me anymore.” 

“Why? We separated or somethin’?” Your husband frowns comically. “Show me your tits.” 

“No.” 

“Come on, just one.” He grins boyishly. “The right one is my favourite.” You stick your middle finger up at him.

“Asshole.” You sniff, walking back to lay on the end of your bed. 

You pick up your phone, mindlessly scrolling through Facebook posts made by the PTA at the girls school while Joel complains about wall fixings or something equally as dull. 

In the end, you get bored and toss it away, instead opting to enjoy the eye candy in the form of a senior (essentially) gentleman on a stepladder cussing about how IKEA can suck his balls. 

“Piece of fuckin’ shit!” He complains when the shelf slips again in your closet, he takes a calming breath and contains his frustration, you snicker at him. “How did this even break, sweetheart?” Joel huffs, changing out for a larger wall plug. 

“Dunno, it just did.” You answer vaguely, looking at your ceiling.

“Bullshit.” He quips. “Did you put too much shit on it?” 

“No.” You hum, shaking your head. 

“You’re a liar.” He states plainly, equally unamused. “What did you put on here that was so heavy it collapsed?” 

“Nothing, maybe it was just your shoddy workmanship to begin with.” You quip, not looking at him though you desperately want to because you can imagine the outrage on his face but you won’t be able to not laugh. 

“It wasn’t me that put it up.” He glares. 

“Sure, whatever you say.” You smile sweetly at him. It’s quiet for a minute, then Joel speaks again. 

“You put filled shoeboxes up here, didn’t you? After I told you nothin’ heavier than a few sweaters? ” He asks knowingly. 

Silence and then… 

“Yeah.” You nod, he sighs loudly and turns back to drill in a screw now that he seems happy with the stability. 

You watch him as he works, angling himself to see better and be able to use his drill at the correct angle. 

The muscles in his back move and his shoulders look unbelievably broad beneath his t-shirt, it hugs his biceps and rides up when he shifts to show a slither of his boxers and bare back. 

Your mouth almost waters and you press your thighs together but it obscures your view so you part them again to peek at him through the gap in your knees. 

It’s well known that your husband is an attractive man, he always has been. You’ve watched him grow from the gangly teenager with a backwards baseball cap practically glued to his head you were first besotted with to the almost middle aged and greying man that now works before you. 

Most nights when it’s dark, quiet and the house is still, you pleasure yourself beneath the duvet thinking of him, hips moving frantically against the whir of your vibrator. It can be any scenario of the long time you’ve been together, two decades holds enough memories to fill books upon books with pictures and anecdotes, some that you keep stored away just for you. 

Sometimes you dream about the three day honeymoon in Nashville you had when your parents forced you to get married before Sarah was born, back when you first lived in Arlington in a shitty apartment you could barely afford with you both working instead of attending college. Then there was that night just under four years later with sex so explosive that you’d had the fleeting thought you’d immediately gotten pregnant again, only to actually find out you’d been right two weeks later when you’d presented Joel with yet another positive pregnancy test before twenty five. 

You chew your lip, lashes fluttering and you’re sure he notices you ogling him in the mirror that puts your reflection in his eye line by the smirk you see. 

God, he pisses you off so much sometimes. He makes your cunt wet and your teeth grind all at once, you never knew that was possible. 

Rolling off the bed and onto your feet, you casually turn so that your back is to him on the ladder but you’re in the perfect position in the reflection of the mirror in front of him. He doesn’t notice at first over the sound of the drilling but when it stops and he goes to test the stability of the shelf, he freezes and the arm holding his drill drops limply to his side. 

He sees you begin to strip down in the mirror, shimmying your shorts down and then yanking off your oversized sweater. Joel freezes, gulping when you turn away to unclip your bra, the expanse of your back is smooth and if he thought your backside looked good in those shorts, the high cut panties you’re wearing hit on a whole other level. 

“What are you doin’?” He asks when your fingers hook into the sides of your panties, they flex within the material and you peer over your shoulder at him, big doe eyes the opposite of fucking innocence. 

“Just taking a shower, I’m filthy.” You titter, holding his piercing gaze through the mirror. 

“Funny, you’ve done nothin’ but sit on your pretty little ass and watch me inhale dust that’s been here for the last fifteen years.” 

“Well, you could always join me.” You shrug, finally slipping your underwear down your thighs, Joel’s mouth goes dry. “Only if you want to, of course.” You beam at him and then sashay away into the en suite, Joel’s resolve breaks very quickly (immediately actually) and he’s yanking off his glasses and tossing them onto the dresser and plucking his t-shirt over his head in an instant. 

Maybe the solution is to fuck it out and he’ll gladly go as many times as needed, you always did need to be fucked hard when your attitude started to test him. 

The shower has been switched on and you’re naked under the stream as he finishes yanking both his socks, sweatpants and boxers off. He admires you through the glass, kicking his clothes into a messy pile before climbing in there with you, the air tight and hot. 

His big hands enrobe you from behind, long dexterous fingers gripping at your waist and pawing at all the exposed skin it’s been weeks since he’s seen. 

You tilt your head back from the water, resting it against his shoulder and pushing back into him, holding onto his forearms and digging your nails into his flesh. 

“Look who couldn’t resist, you bad boy. Whatever will the therapist say?” You mock, pouting those pretty lips. 

“You’re a goddamn tease, you know that?” He growls, nipping at your jaw and earlobe, holding the weight of your breasts in his hands. 

“If you say so.” You breathe sexily, dragging him by the back of his neck to meet your lips in a hungry kiss. 

His cock is trapped between his soft stomach and your lower back, smearing a pearlescent gleam as he anchors himself to you.

You moan into his mouth when he teases your nipples into tight peaks, plucking them and roughly cupping your tits. 

“I want to lick your pretty little pussy until you cum on my face.” He admits into your mouth, barely letting you breathe past the fierce kisses. Your clit throbs at his confession and you grab hold of his hand, guiding it down your body to between your legs where he teases your lips.

Your back arches prettily into him, the free hand holding your breast now grips your throat, forcing you to tilt your head back. 

“Ah.” You whine when the roughened pads of his fingers stroke your clit. “Mmm, there.” You hum, pushing into his fingers. He entertains you, dipping his fingertips to your honey slick hole and back up again, dragging the gooey wetness to smother on your clit until it’s hardened and desperate to be sucked on like candy. 

“Bet you could cum like this.” He says gruffly, beard scratching at your shoulders and neck, wherever he greedily kisses your dewy wet skin. 

“Wanna cum on you, Joel.” You whine, reaching behind you to grasp his thickness. He ruts into your hand, smearing more stickiness that you want to lick away from his tip. 

You absorb him similarly to a plant and the sun, the bulk of his form plastered against your back so big and strong, skin sun kissed and warm. He’s safety to you, every single thing about him, everything familiar that you know. 

“Needy little slut.” He whispers, your core becomes aflame at the debauchery, you nod in confirmation. “Oh, you agree? You just need a cock to sit on and your shitty attitude will be right as rain?” 

���Only your cock.” You whine, flicking your thumb against the underside of him, tracing out a vein you’re very familiar with. 

“Yeah, baby. Only mine, I know, I know.” His sweet breath is hot against your cheek as he pants, fingers strumming your clit faster. “You wanna cum for me, baby? Show me how good you can be?” You hum and nod, knees almost buckling, this is the fastest you’ve approached orgasm since being separated. 

“Gonna cum, Joel.” You say huskily, hips bucking into his hand until it’s only been two seconds since your revelation and you’re cumming - wet and sticky - into the palm of his hand. His mouth is on yours, you’re moaning and moving erratically, Joel’s cock is dribbling a steady stream of pre cum into your hand where you’re gripping his shaft. 

“Sexy little thing.” Joel husks into your ear, biting the lob as you heave for air, slowly undulating your hips as you ride the last wave of your peak against his hand. “Good girl.” He praises, taking his hand away when you weakly push at his wrist. He lifts it in front of you, fingers webbed with your cum, runny and clear. You catch his hand, slipping his index and middle finger into your mouth, sucking them clean as he groans and ruts into the hand still around him, the cool palladium of his wedding ring bumps against your cupids bow as you suckle. 

You slip his fingers out of your mouth, letting them drag down your chin and back to your tits. “Fuck me.” You demand haughtily, eyeing him. 

“I’ll fuck you, baby.” He confirms, softer than you were expecting, he meets you for a kiss and you suck on the plumpness of his bottom lip before turning away. Joel slicks his hair back under the spray and then begins to trace out the curve of your waist and the fullness of your ass, you feel his hand bump you knuckle first where he fists himself to complete mast and then he runs the length of himself through your pussy, hissing at the wet heat that awaits him but he pauses, retracting back unsure. 

“You want me to wear a condom?” And you freeze, looking over your shoulder in distress. 

“Have you been with other people?” You frown, your heart suddenly sinking into your stomach, making your guts twist with nausea. Joel frowns down at you, blinking away the water clinging to his lashes. 

“Course not.” He answers, you relax. “…Have you?” Joel presses.

“Absolutely not.” You state firmly. “So get inside me.” You demand, turning away to place your hands on the tiles. You feel him press kisses to your shoulders as the tip of his cock brushes your ass again, you sigh and push back into him. “Please, baby.” You beg, feeling him smile into your skin. 

“I think you’re tryin’ to baby trap me.” Joel says playfully, pulling your hips against him so that your back arches just so. 

“You had a vasectomy after Ellie, idiot.” Your hips press insistently against him and you reach back to tug at his length, your fingers barely wrapping around the girth. “Now get your dick inside me, Joel.” You demand. 

“Yes, ma’am.” He leans down a fraction and slicks himself up, the entire length of him slipping against your pussy lips once more and nudging your clit. “Fuuuuck.” Joel groans when he does it again and the head of him catches on your hole, slipping inside just a fraction. 

“Oh my god.” You pant, your forehead dropping to rest against the cool tiled as he fills you completely. It’s a tight fit, after over three weeks of no sex with him your body is near to combustion.

You wonder if the lack of sex has attributed to the arguments, both working long hours at your respective jobs and not having the time for the normal intimacy you usually share. 

This is exactly what you’ve been wanting in the weeks you’ve been apart; a carnal desire to have your husband close. 

His grunt in your ear sets something off in you, the relief he feels directly felt by you. 

You whimper at the first thrust after he’s settled within your velvet lined canal, body pressed between him and the wall. 

It won’t ever be like this with anyone else, you think to yourself - the way Joel fits within you, around you and alongside you. 

“Like that.” You pant, pressing back. He grunts into your ear in such a manly way that you reach back to yank on his hair, he growls into your neck and fucks into you harder. 

He’s so strong it makes your head spin, this gorgeous man with a heart of gold that loved you when you were young, married you and gave you two babies, helped you create a comfortable life for your family. 

It’s overwhelming; that sensation of being full and enveloped within the heat of his radius. 

You’ve missed everything about him; his smell, his voice, the way he tastes. You’ve ached for the things you’ve harmlessly bickered about before, such as underwear outside of the hamper, smudges of toothpaste on the bathroom mirror after a deep clean, crumbs on the island. 

You don’t mean to let your emotions get the best of you but your eyes well and your throat tightens, your chest constricts something fierce. 

The sob that erupts out of your chest can’t be disguised by the noise of the water hitting the floor at your feet or the soft groans of Joel, not the breathless whines from yourself either. 

It’s a raw noise, jagged at the edges so much that it hurts leaving your throat. 

“Honey?” Immediately Joel has stopped moving and withdrawn, spinning you around to cup your cheeks. “Why are you cryin’?” He presses insistently, thumbs trying to swipe away your tears. Your cheeks are aflame, embarrassed to have spoilt such an intimate moment after so long. 

“I just - I just missed you.” You whimper, tucking your nose into his bicep. He cradles you to him softly beneath the spray, hushing you gently. This makes you cry more, thinking about how he’s held your babies like this; tenderly like they’re the most fragile  beings made entirely of glass. “Everything feels wrong! And… and…” You sniffle wetly. “And I can’t sleep properly without you and your dumb old man snoring!” 

“Oh, baby.” He chuckles into your hair. 

“I don’t like the whole limited contact stuff either.” You mumble. 

“Neither do I but it’s what was suggested and I think we need to try it, if we don’t like it then that’s a good sign.” He tries to pick your mood up, you pout and nod, leaning into his touch. 

“I’m scared we won’t fix this and I’ll have to watch you start dating someone else.” 

“I’m not gonna date anyone else, lady. I only want you, I’ve only ever wanted you.” He tells you. 

“That’s not true.” You hiccup. “Brandi Neil wanted you and you were going to go to Homecoming with her.” 

“Fuckin’ - that was literally over twenty somethin’ years ago and I went with you in the end!” He huffs indignantly. “Come on, let’s get dry and we can talk some more.” Joel guides you out of the shower with a gentle hand, turning off the water and handing you a towel. He leans over on more than one occasion to peck your lips, he smooths his thumbs beneath your eyes to wipe away the mascara that’s ran in the shower from the steam. 

Once you’re both relatively dry, there’s an awkward shift in the air as you’re both naked still and Joel looks very much aroused, half hard cock swaying as he moves. 

You saunter back to the bed, peering over your shoulder to see that you’ve captured his attention intently and he gulps as you climb onto the mattress, briefly resting on all fours for a split second, wet pussy drooling and exposed before turning onto your back. 

You stretch out against the sheets not dissimilar to a renaissance painting, skin dewy with a look on your face that Joel wants to savour. 

He climbs atop the mattress with you, pushing your thighs apart to settle between them. His warm mouth finds your nipples, sucking them and biting gently, you stretch and arch into him like a puppet on strings, the weight of your breasts fitting in each of his roughened palms. You feel the brush of his cock sway against your inner thigh and you buck against it, trying to encourage him closer, you huff when he ignores you in favour of worshiping your breasts. 

“Calm down.” He murmurs. “We’ll get there.” He promises in that deep baritone which makes your purr. Joel shimmies down your body, palm dragging along your sternum and settling on your stomach where your fingers find his in a desperate squeeze. 

The broadness of him fits between your thighs, one tossed over his shoulder to open you up. It’s erotic how he looks with his mouth on you, silver streaked hair visible and it’s not long before you’re clutching at it, writhing and moaning something pretty. 

He parts your labia and licks slowly, using only the tip of his tongue, flicking over your clit and coaxing it from beneath the hood, sucking it between his lips and running his tongue repeatedly over it as you gasp and pull his hair, he suckles and there’s a lewd slurp thrown in there. 

You purr like a kitten when his fingers enter you, moving steadily and brushing your G spot with such expertise that your eyes water. He knows what you like, having learnt your body and its responses for the better part of twenty years. A gush of slick aids the smooth movement of his ring and middle finger, stroking you from the inside until it proves too much to feel so far from him. 

“Up, Joel.” You whine, tugging his tresses with more force than necessary which causes him to bite your inner thigh in retaliation but he allows himself to be malleable at the hands of you, kneeling between your legs and wiping the slick of you from his moustache and beard. 

Rocking back onto his haunches, he fists his cock at the sight of you looking wrecked, that deep possessive part of him that’s smug because it’s him that makes you look like that; flushed and desperate. 

“I won’t last long, honey.” He warns as he gets into position, wrapping both legs around his waist. 

“Don’t care.” You state, reaching down to grab hold of him and guiding the blunt head of him through your lips, teasing yourself before you notch him just right. He eases himself in gentler than before in the shower, savouring that slow stretch as he feeds you himself until the wiry coarse hairs at the base are dampened by your wetness. 

He drops onto his forearms beside your head, caging you in as he begins to move, the pendant from his St Christopher bumps your chin. You make pretty noises, clawing at his back in a way that leaves diagonal lines in various shades of pink and red. Chests pressed together, heart to heart, a rhythmic beat perfectly in sync. 

“Tell me you love me.” You gasp.

Sitting up, Joel guides your leg over his shoulder, kissing your ankle bone, toying with the dainty gold anklet there that was an anniversary present some years ago. Your back arches against the sheets and you whimper sweetly at the new sensation of his hips fitting snuggly between your thighs and the weeping head of him nudging against the sponged wall of your cervix. 

“I love you.” He groans, hands grappling your hip bones, forcing you closer like he can’t get enough, he looms over you. “I love you so fuckin’ much.” 

“I love you.” You pant back. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” His nose nudges yours, lips hungrily searching to slot against yours, puffy and wet. “You remember night one of our honeymoon?” You press, exhaling hot and tone wanting. 

“Fuck yeah I do, fuck - “ His hips snap harder and you keen. “Pretty as a fuckin picture, still in your weddin’ dress on the floor.” 

“Fuck.” You sigh, fisting at his biceps with slippery fingers. “Barely made it through the motel door.” 

“You looked so fuckin good, honey. Havin’ my baby and ridin’ me on the floor.” His mouth slackens and his eyes slip closed, clearly deep in thought. 

“I wanna do it again, Joel.” You gasp, fingers shakily circling your clit, hard and slippery. 

“Yeah, baby. We’ll have another honeymoon, renew our vows first and everythin’.” He grunts. 

“Baby.” You whimper in his ear. “I’m cumming, fuck me harder.” You say it breathlessly and all his carnal instincts take over, he fucks you that hard the headboard slams into the wall and takes a layer of sage green paint off. You’re loud through your climax, hips jumping and blood rushing through every vein like accelerant and fire. 

“Jesus, I’m gonna cum. Fuck!” He groans, fingers moulding into the mattress, orgasm hitting so hard it makes the edges of his vision blacken. “Fuckin’ Christ.” You kiss his throat from your place beneath him, licking his jugular like the fucking minx you are, biting a tendon. 

The white of his teeth is blinding as his lip curls into a near snarl, the pulse of warmth as he orgasms spreads within you and you pant, flushed from head to toe. 

You kiss him as he grunts to completion, teeth clashing. 

“You’re so good - so good.” You murmur into his mouth, frantically pushing his hair from his damp forehead. “You’re perfect.” You hum, enraptured. 

“That’s you.” He smiles, lip curving against yours. “My pretty little wife.” 

He strokes your hair and traces your features, eyes searching yours for something; hope maybe and you smile gently at him, pulling him down beside you once he’s withdrawn from the warmth of your body. 

You rest against him, cheek to his chest to listen to the thrum below. You count his freckles and you trace his knuckles, you kiss his exposed skin over and over, you absorb as much of him as you can, feeling fulfilled for the first time in weeks. 

Joel quietly observes you, you lean up on your elbow, dragging your manicured nails down the centre of his chest, he watches you with his arm behind his head. You pause and lean down to rest your chin on his sternum, blinking with those fluttery lashes that cast a shadow high on your cheekbones. 

“Thank you for my flowers.” You say, he smiles softly and reaches down to stroke your cheek with his thumb. 

“You’re welcome.” He whispers. “Wanted to do somethin’ nice for you, Ellie messaged me and said you’d had a tough week at work before that dumb fucking argument we had.” His long fingers comb through your hair, you rest easily on his stomach now, letting your eyes slip shut. “Wanna talk about it, baby?” 

“Not really.” You huff. “I don’t want to unload my problems on you.” Joel sighs in exasperation at your vague answer. 

“You can tell me anythin’, you know that.” 

“We’re supposed to be taking time apart to stop the fighting, me unloading everything onto you isn’t going to help that.” You tell him. 

“I think communication is exactly what we need.” He disagrees. 

“You’re starting an argument now.” You chuckle with an eye roll, resting your cheek against his warm skin. He rolls his eyes back but doesn’t reply, continuing to stroke your hair, twirling some around his finger. “Joel?” You ask quietly. 

“Hmm?” 

“What if we can’t fix this?” 

“We can.” He replies determinedly. “Nearly twenty years together and two kids later, I’m still so in love with you, whether we’re fighting or not.” 

“I love you.” You murmur. 

“I love you more.” He replies. “And I love our girls.” Joel adds. 

“Me too.” You shift and snuggle into him, resting your head beneath his chin. 

He holds you quietly, his touch a major comfort. You think back over the almost month it’s been since the marriage counsellor had suggested Joel move out of the martial house for awhile and stay with his brother, just so you could see if distance would be beneficial after the amalgamation of late working nights, the stress of parenting two teenage girls and life itself along with naturally getting older, you already dancing that line of perimenopause. 

The space had made you realise you didn’t want to be without him and you’d both seemed to realise that you didn’t want to split up, you just needed to figure out a way to make things work. 

“I think we should trial the time apart for another week and keep seeing the counsellor for a few more months.” You begin. “I’m gonna figure something out at work and reduce my hours, no more bringing it home with me.” 

“That sounds good.” Joel murmurs, twisting a piece of your hair. “I’m goin’ to cut my days down to four, I think the finances will be fine and I want to be around here more for you and the girls.” He tells you, you nod slowly and blink away the tears that have suddenly come at the softness of his voice. 

“I don’t care if we have to give up any extra luxuries, I just need you and our kids here happy.” You emphasise. 

“That’s what I want too, baby. No more arguments over stupid shit, I’m sorry for bein’ so fuckin’ horrible lately.” 

“I was horrible too, Joel.” You say. “We just need to keep working on things and if we feel an argument brewing then we should take a step back and reassess what’s caused it and find a solution just like the therapist says.” You advise. “Also we should make time for a date night every week.” 

“Sounds good to me, baby.” Joel agrees, tugging you forward. “Kiss me, you have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” He murmurs sweetly and you go easily, moulding yourself over him to meet him for a deep kiss that speaks a thousand words and apologies. 

“Hey.” You say suddenly, eyes flitting over to the vanity where multiple photo frames sit. “You remember that trip we took to Seattle when the kids were little?” Joel follows your line of sight where they’re focused on one of the smaller frames holding two polaroids, one of Sarah and Ellie when they were eight and four, then another you’d taken of Joel on the pier with the wheel behind him you’d taken. 

“Yeah.” He says fondly. “That was a great trip, the kids loved it.” 

“What was that girl called that Ellie made friends with at the aquarium?” You smile as you think of a rambunctious Ellie, stomping around holding her Daddy’s hand in her tiny overalls, pointing at every fish she saw swimming ahead in the glass tunnels. 

“Oh er… fuck. What was it? Little blonde girl with a braid.” He recites, thinking back almost a decade. “Abby!” He suddenly exclaims and you hum, nodding. 

“That was it, they were so cute together watching the sea lion show, remember how jealous Sarah was that she thought all Ellie’s love was being stolen away.” You giggle, nuzzling his shoulder. “We should go again now they’re grown up.” 

There’s a comfortable silence as you bask in the evening sun coming through the window behind the bed, coating you in warmth while you lazily make out with your husband like you used to as teenagers in his beat up truck. 

You moan into his mouth when a hand sneakily skims your back and moulds to the fleshiest part of your backside. Sitting back to take a breath, you begin to kiss at his stubbled jaw, focusing intently on the grey patches and working yourself down his throat, to his clavicle and down his chest where he has yours, Sarah’s and Ellie’s name tattooed over his heart. 

He props himself up in interest on his elbows when you make it to his sternum, nipping near his navel and dragging your nails through the smattering of hair below it until you reach his groin. 

“You think you can go again?” You smirk at him, nipping his hip, sucking a small bruise into the skin above his pubic area.

“Keep doin’ that and I’ll be rarin’ to go.” He huffs, cradling the back of your head when you lick above his pubic area.

You move lower and his cock begins to swell against his thigh, his thighs tense when your hot breath drifts over his length. 

Just as you’re about to drag your tongue over the flushed head of him, you hear a car skim across the gravel driveway and you both freeze. 

“Shit, that’s the kids.” You panic, sitting up and swinging your legs off the bed to gather up something to wear. “Quick!” You urge Joel who looks equally as panicked as he yanks up his boxers. You find a long floral dress to throw on from the corner and manage to yank up the panties you were wearing earlier, the crotch becomes sodden with the semen but you ignore the uncomfortable wet feeling and try to fan away the flush on your cheeks as you watch your husband get dressed. 

You’re both barrelling down the stairs just as the front door opens and you bump into Joel as you skid on foyer tiles, he steadies you as your kids stare back. 

You and Joel try to act casual despite the feral things you’ve just done.

“You’re back early.” You squeak, very aware of your damp hair and smudged makeup. 

It’s a mere second before your daughter’s come barrelling full force towards the apple of their eyes, pregnancy and labour be damned. 

“Dad!” The girls squeal in unison, rushing to hug him. He wraps an arm around each of them, eyes slipping shut with contentment. 

“Hi, my girls.” He sighs happily, nosing Ellie’s hairline and then Sarah’s. 

“Missed you.” You hear Ellie tell him. 

“Hi, mom.” You mock unseriously, crossing your arms. 

“Hey, mom.” Ellie mocks devilishly, tilting her head back with the same teasing look her father possesses more often than not. She’s her father’s daughter, a carbon copy of him whereas Sarah is more like you. 

“You have a good afternoon?” You ask when Sarah meanders her way into your orbit, wrapping her arms around your waist. She nods against you and you tuck some hair out of her face, she nuzzles into you. 

“The movie was packed so we got frozen yoghurt and walked around Target instead, we got you some candy.” She says sweetly, rubbing her cheek into your collar whilst Ellie is resting her chin against Joel’s chest with her arms wound around his waist, whispering something that makes him chuckle and sway her from side to side tenderly. 

She stares up at him like he’s hung the stars and the moon just for you, you’re certain she’d crawl into his rib cage and stay there if she could and you don’t blame her.

“Thank you, sweet girls.” You beam. “Hey, are you both in for dinner tonight?” You suddenly wonder. 

“Yes, sir.” Ellie replies. 

“I’ve got no plans.” Sarah shrugs. 

“How about we Doordash something? Could eat it on the patio?” You suggest and Ellie cheers, Joel chuckles into her hair. 

“Even Dad?” Sarah hesitates as she asks, looking at you hopefully. Your heart breaks, Joel staying away had some serious effects in the first week even though they knew you weren’t going through a divorce and trying to fix things. Ellie acted out at school and Sarah shut herself away, both missing their father’s presence at home even though they saw him most days after school and on weekends if they weren’t out with friends. 

You’d never stopped them seeing him and wouldn’t dare to even if things were irreparable between you. 

“Of course.” You answer Sarah, Ellie looks between you and Joel curiously, her eyes narrow when she sees him smiling softly at you and clocks you blushing. 

“Whatcha both been doing?” Ellie asks slyly. 

“Hanging out, your Dad fixed the shelf for me.” You tell her nonchalantly over Sarah’s head. “So uh.. which one of you ratted on me for breaking it?” 

“Dunno what you’re talking about, man.” Ellie sniffs, you tug the end of her ponytail.

“Mmm.” You murmur, unconvinced. “Go get changed into something comfy and have a think about what you fancy for dinner.” You order, nodding towards the stairs. 

“Race ya!” Ellie bellows suddenly, pushing Sarah into you to get a head start. 

“Hey!” Her older sister shouts, barrelling after her while you sigh and head towards the kitchen, the peace and quiet officially gone. 

Joel gives you a flirtatious look and your heart jumps, your chest warms as do your cheeks. 

“Stop looking at me like that.” You demand, pushing his face away in the opposite direction. He chuckles and grabs your wrist, using it as leverage to pull you to him.  

“What? Like I want to eat you?” He murmurs lowly, you hum affirmatively. “Maybe I do.” 

“That could be arranged.” You whisper, he takes you back into his arms, walking with you until you hit the edge of the kitchen island. You pull him into a kiss, dragging your fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck. 

He growls lowly and hoists you up onto the surface, stepping between your legs, running his hands up and down your parted thighs. 

“The kids are listenin’ to us.” Joel whispers into your ear when he pulls away, nodding outside of the kitchen entryway where you realise you didn’t hear them run all the way to the top of the stairs. 

“No, we’re not!” Sarah has the audacity to yell with offence, you giggle into Joel’s t-shirt.

“Get changed before I make your Dad cook his famous spaghetti surprise dinner tonight instead of getting take out!” You holler back. 

“That was one time.” Joel complains under his breath. 

“Make us a sister.” Ellie shouts from halfway upstairs. 

“No chance! Dad got snipped after you anyway, he said you were more than enough trouble and you were barely out the womb!” You shout back, cackling when you hear both her and Sarah gag fiercely. 

“It’s true!” Joel adds. “I had frozen peas on my crotch for days!”

“Gross!” They both exclaim. 

That night, you sit on the patio furniture, with your husband and children, your feet cradled in his lap with glasses of wine and takeout with quiet music playing from Alexa, giggling and telling them stories of your teenage years and some of a time they’re too young to remember, planning a trip to Seattle they’re ecstatic over. 

You’re certain that everything will be okay. 

[the-hoely-bleach]

Okay so I’ve been getting into to whole dp x dc crossover fandom. Main problem: I know enough about Batman lore to get by, but I haven’t seen a single episode of Danny Phantom.

A lot of the fics have some really cool ghost lore that makes want to give the show a shot, but the fact that the authors feel the need to explain it makes me think it’s mostly headcannon

SO, DP fandom, my questions are this:

Does the show actually have all that cool ghost lore?

Does the show have an actual plot, or is it mainly just monster of the week?

If it does have a plot, is there a list anywhere of which episodes are necessary viewing?

Why do we hate Phantom Planet so much? Almost every fic I’ve read is tagged with “not Phantom Planet compliant”.

Edit for clarification: I was planning to watch the show regardless of the answers to these questions, I was mainly asking in order to manage my expectations with lore and whatnot; and if there was an overarching plot I’d start by watching those keystone episodes to save time, then possibly go back and watch the full thing when I was able

[kurishiri]

why team alice (as a whole) suffers compared to the others, other than the fact they r "starter routes"

DISCLAIMER: this post is not meant to undermine those who like team alice or any of the chars in that team; this is just a post i am making bc ive been thinking and theorizing a bit on especially why en doesnt seem to like will, harry, and liam as much as the other suitors as a whole. and i wanted to try to put it into words. but i'm also not really a professional when it comes to these matters and the statements i make boil down to my personal opinion (despite how i may phrase things), so take my words with a grain of salt. im open to hearing other opinions and welcome discussion, provided it remains civil!

long post + late night thoughts below

clarification: i am not including victor in this post as a part of this the aforementioned “team alice”, as i consider him a separate entity from the other teams altogether, symbolizing “the end” of fairytales, rather than a char of a fairytale. when sold in story sets, he often gets put into sets with team sleeping beauty anyway. i do acknowledge that victor is fairly often seen with william and harry, though in my personal opinion — and this may change with victor’s route release, who knows! — they do sort of fall short a bit for the same reason that i will mark with an asterisk (*) in this post.

especially ever since i started translating, and after al's route release, i feel ive become more conscious of the concept of "favoritism". even in the source material, favoritism is present to an almost painful degree. like, it wont take you long to realize liam literally has no (solo) 95k stories, while jude has the most out of the entire cast. which then leads to the question, which i ask as neutrally as i can: why? why is liam so unpopular? why is will not popular? or harry? and conversely, why is jude and ellis so popular? why does team alice seem less popular than the other teams? after some thinking…

basically, my thought just all boils down to the "lack of chemistry".

i dont think the issue lies so much with the chars themselves. i feel a lot of community doesnt really hate them as chars, they just like the others more. all that to say — will, harry, and liam r all charming in their own right.

they r good-looking, kind to kate, they r intelligent, they r all affected in some way by their curse, and they all possess development arcs especially following their main story, which i feel may be a symptom of the "starter route syndrome". where their main stories may fall a bit short, they may make up for in basically all of the following events. they r all flawed, thus making them feel human and authentic.

as individuals, they r all actually quite well rounded, in my opinion.

but when you look at them as a team or group, this is specifically where they fall apart.

the thing is — its not just abt the individual. its also abt how they see the things around them, how they interact with them; you can have very well-made chars, but if they don’t interact with others, how can we, as readers, get to know them? and of course, when i say "interact", this includes other chars in the cast. they say dialogue can make or break, and while there r some things team alice does well in dialogue, i think in other areas it also falls short.

now part of it may also be that the team as a whole didnt know each other before they all congregated at crown, while all the other teams have known each other in some way in the past, with team snow white (and, i think swan lake) especially having an extensive history. so i think in this sense, there is some inherent disadvantage team alice faces here at play as well. but this is not the only factor, considering they actually manage to tie liam and harry pretty well together as a combo. their friendship feels quite authentic.

as for will…we dont see all too many opportunities for him to interact much with harry (if they do, harry is often with someone else, like liam). but we know they r probably on good terms, though harry sometimes may feel a bit unsettled,,? by will. but the key is: they just dont interact much as a pair. in this sense, there is little opportunity to develop them as a pair, thus integrating will as a whole into the team. as for will and liam? these two share more interactions, but said interactions r not always executed very well, in my opinion*.

for example, will sort of treats liam like a cat. he even calls him a cat in dialogue. but thats all it seems to be between them. their dynamic feels somewhat flat, and it doesnt help that will is even opting to tell (rather than show) the reader what he thinks of liam, thus taking away the ability for the reader to dig deeper into their relationship. thus, it may feel harder to empathize, sympathize, or find it relatable — the chars dont reveal much abt each other. their dynamics feel surface level, so even though they have distinctive personalities, traits, and struggles, it feels like we r only getting half of them. bc again, much of how we get to know chars is their interactions, dialogues, and thoughts abt other chars, similar to how we cannot really understand ourselves without the presence of others (like the "looking-glass self" which sociologist cooley coined).

i probably sound like a broken record by now, but basically what i wanna say is there is not much of a good way to integrate will into the team — or the way they try to do so isnt done very well. the dynamic then may feel "incomplete", like drawing a half circle and attempting to call it a full circle.

to give a point of comparison, we can take a quick look at team snow white and sleeping beauty, looking at what made them relatively more successful compared to team alice. i wont be looking at team swan lake due to them being jp only chars (as of the making of this post) and also just not having much info on them. but, sometimes it does help to look at "successful" cases to better understand or feel what had fallen short.

TEAM SLEEPING BEAUTY

ok so, quick disclaimer: team sleeping beauty isnt really my strong suit (if yk me, im prettyy biased toward team snow white personally ndhjsffgjdjfjsg), so to speak. so if anyone else has anything to add here, feel free. but i will try my best.

basically, i think team sleeping beauty has one prevailing advantage over other teams, which is they r a two-man team.

they can keep the dynamic compact, if thats the word. there r physically less ppl to have to "integrate" into the team. in this team, it is centered around ellis and jude's relationship with each other. but to put it simply, they r foils — and the fact they use such a literary device in and of itself adds to their charm, specifically bc foils r meant to bring out each other’s similarities and differences…traits that we readers digest and can potentially empathize with.

one wants to make the other happy, obsessed with the notion of "happiness", while the other is basically cursed (as a byproduct) to never be the happiest. there is this theme of happiness revolving around those two, entangling them to a relationship that can inherently "never end". this in turn highlights ellis' tendency to "restrain" and jude's cycle of hatred. they sort of go together like yin and yang — two opposing forces who still end up working together. they have a distinct role to play in each other's lives.

on the other hand, team alice characters r sort of more independent from each other and feel a bit like a hodgepodge. this results in the reader potentially finding more difficulty finding how they may affect one another…risking their role as chars in each others stories being rendered vague.

and if the role of chars is hard to be established, it is easy for them to "fall out" in terms of the storyline.

TEAM SNOW WHITE

so here is the three man team that makes the three man team work. and the biggest thing that team snow white has that team alice doesnt is distinct, complex dynamics established between all three chars in the team. in other words, they have a "full circle" whereas team alice has a "half circle".

ALFONS & ELBERT: ah yes the pairing that would become a couple if they were not labeled as love interests for kate in an otome game /lh but in all srsness these two do share quite an interesting dynamic. they were sort of there to share each other's pain, and even just as chars, they seem to reflect things abt each other. for example, through elbie, we learn of how "hopeless" al can feel despite his smiley front; and through al, we see a lot of what elbie was truly seeking and why. and how, despite al being a mirror that reflects others' desires, elbie is the mirror that keeps al grounded to his self, and reflects what makes al as a char. they share a close relationship of "two lonely and broken souls finding solace in one another", but there is also quite a bit of subtext in the semantics of their dynamic and dialogue together as well.

ELBERT & ROGER: considering elbie's fear of doctors, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that, despite the fact roger had never actually laid a finger on elbie the same way his father's doctor did, elbie still feared roger, bc roger still embodied the concept of what had deeply traumatized him in the first place. roger had to go out of his way to earn elbie's trust (as a doctor), and they had gone out of their way to depict this. in this sense, through roger, we can see just how deep-rooted this trauma is and its severity — time cant heal all wounds.

ROGER & ALFONS: theres quite a bit to unpack with these two. they r deeply intertwined in each other's lives, whether they like it or not. its not that al gets along with roger or views him as a "friend", per se, but he finds it easy to place the blame of his suffering on roger, implies through subtext that he still holds some hope for roger that he can fulfill his goals, and shows his own version of an act of kindness by erasing his memories when he decided to, well, off himself. on the other hand, interestingly enough, roger is the one who basically took away al's childhood, but at the same time, in the present, he is the one who is able to bring out al's most childish side.

all in all, team snow white seems to rely a lot on subtext, which is another device to create mult layers and complexities in the dynamics created between all the characters in the team.

tl;dr: team alice has individually interesting characters, which is why they r not really disliked necessarily, but their interactions with each other as a team fall short compared to the other teams, which in turn has an impact on how "relatable" they may be perceived by the reader. and this is basically why i think team snow white and sleeping beauty r more favored than team alice as a whole by the (en) fandom.

wrote most of this on my phone nfjsjhfhsgs will end the essay here

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 15: morning after

Here I need to make a clarification. As you know, English is not my first language and from what I was able to research about this day's prompt it was like "a morning after doing something you might regret" or "a morning with a hangover", so that's what I wrote about. It's honestly my favorite (and the longest) so far and I hope you like it, reblog or tell me in the comments if you do!

Masterlist flufftober 🎀

tw: mention of alcohol, implied smut, nudity, stuff like that (but everything is fluff!)

The first thing Spencer felt when he woke up was the stab of pain shooting through his head, followed by the sun streaming through the window gently warming his body. Everything was spinning for him and he didn't even remember how he got to his apartment the night before, because as a birthday gift the whole team had decided to take him to a bar and somehow, they had managed to completely intoxicate him with alcohol.

He had drunk before but not to that level, so it was the first time he had experienced a hangover of that magnitude. He tried to get up as slowly as possible and once he was sitting on the edge of the mattress he sighed and rubbed his face with both hands to wake up a little. As his vision cleared, he could make out the floor of the room and opened his eyes wide when he noticed a piece of clothing that was definitely not his: a pair of black lace panties. He scanned the rest of the place and also found a matching bra and dress, and his surprise was even greater when he turned on the mattress to find a female body covered by a thin sheet.

The memories of him hit him worse than the hangover and suddenly all his blood rushed to his face. The night before, when he had begun to feel the effects of alcohol, everyone seemed to become lighter, so when a beautiful woman approached to talk to him, he didn’t hesitate to respond to the chat. Even Derek was surprised at how charming his friend was when he wasn't worried about what people thought of him, and it was a good thing the girl enjoyed hearing interesting facts about absolutely anything. If Spencer had ever read about flirting tips that was the moment he applied them and no one was surprised when the birthday boy was dragged to the back of the bar, to probably be kissed like never before in his life.

He remembered that after making out in the dark you had asked if you could accompany him somewhere more private and he had naively offered his apartment. The images of what had happened made him feel completely ashamed and at that moment he hated his eidetic memory a little, because he could see over and over again your trembling body on top of his and hear the noises with which both of you had filled the room.

He had never done anything like that in his life and he didn't even believe he was capable of sleeping with a girl he had just met, probably for fear of not being good enough or of contracting some kind of disease. But, luckily, he searched his mind and realized that neither had happened and the evidence of a metal wrapper on the nightstand calmed him down.

He almost jumped out of his seat when he felt you shifting on the mattress and turned around immediately so as not to risk you catching him looking at you or, worse yet, seeing your naked body.

“Hey,” he heard behind you, your voice slightly raspy, and he tensed completely when he felt your hand caress the skin of his back “Good morning.”

“Huh… hello,” he replied, still not looking at you. Total nervousness could be heard in his voice and you wanted to believe that it wasn't out of regret, or else your heart would have broken a little.

"Are you okay?"

“Yes,” he replied quietly. He gathered his courage and turned slightly in your direction, only to find your soft, worried eyes looking down at him “And you?”

“A little sore, but everything is fine”

Your smile was sweet and your face was so cheerful that Spencer feared he had slept with a teenager. But it wasn't like that, it was just that God had blessed you with natural beauty even with the after-effects of drunkenness and traces of smudged makeup.

"I am glad to hear that"

He couldn't see you bite your lower lip because he was too distracted by the reddish mark on your shoulder that he had left last night and you interpreted his distracted attitude as clear disinterest, without imagining that there was a whole revolution of emotions inside him. 

You moved under the covers and when you got out of bed Spencer looked away, as if he wanted to respect your privacy by avoiding seeing your nakedness. With some embarrassment you began to look for your clothes throughout the room to put them on, ready to leave the place with the little dignity you had left. But when you sleep with the most handsome guy in the bar, those are things you take risks, right?

“Well, I guess I’ll go,” you said shyly, holding your bag close to you “It was nice meeting you.”

"Wait!" He stopped you almost immediately, not allowing you to go too far “I'm being rude, excuse me. “It's just… I'm not used to doing this much.”

“Oh, no, no, I don't either. Don't think I'm..."

"No! I wasn't suggesting that either," he continued, feeling like every time he spoke he was only making everything worse "It's just that yesterday he was really drunk and... well, I'm a little surprised at how things turned out."

“And did they end well or badly?”

“Well, or so I think,” he responded quickly. He wanted to tell you that he had loved the way you kissed him if it would take the worried look off your face, but the truth was that he didn't even know if he could say the words without feeling nervous. “What I want to say is that I hope I was… good.” 

“You were” you express him sincerely. If he had told you that he was inexperienced in the area you wouldn’t have believed him at all “I hope you can say the same about me.”

"Yeah. I'm just worried that we were too drunk."

“So drunk that you would do something you regret?”

“No, more like having forced you to do something that you regret”

So that was his fear of it? That caught you a little off guard, as you didn't know if it was for fear of legal reprisals or if he was really caring about your integrity. From the gentle way he said it and the expression with which he looked at you, you wanted to believe it was the latter, after all he seemed like a good man and nothing in the apartment looked dangerous. I mean, most of the things that were out there were books and science objects, nothing that screamed get out of here or I'm a jerk. 

“Don’t worry, I think we both had fun,” you reassured him. “I thought I heard something about it being your birthday, is that true?”

"Yes, it was"

“I hope I didn't ruin it,” you murmured, sounding honest, because your judgment was too clouded the night before to react coherently.

Of course you hadn't ruined his birthday, how could you? You were a pretty girl who had spent the night with him and now that Spencer was looking at you more closely, he realized how lucky he had been that someone like you had set her sights on him.

“You don't have to leave if you don't want to,” he added, trying his luck a little. “If you allow me to change, we can get something for breakfast and… chat.”

“Do you want to do that?”

“It wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me to just throw you out of my apartment, would it?” He replied and your brow furrowed in disbelief. That man was seriously strange, but in the good sense of the word “I'm Spencer Reid, by the way.”

"I know who you are. You told me last night,” you laughed, a little moved by the shyness he suddenly seemed to have, very different from his behavior at the bar.

"So? You will stay?"

You remained silent and analyzed your options. You never imagined that the man would ask you to stay after what you thought would be your first one-night stand, yet you had ended up in that situation.

"Yes, I will”

“Cool,” he sighed, putting on the sweetest smile you had ever seen.

Was this boy real or had you entered into a hallucination?

“I’ll wait for you… huh… outside, okay?” a part of you wanted to listen to your own words, but suddenly the other felt the urge to do something, impulsive and stupid like everything you had done the night before. “But first, can you allow me to do something?”

“Sure, what is it about?”

You didn't respond verbally, but instead took a few steps in his direction and finally crashed your lips into his, hearing him let out a moan of astonishment. Now that you felt soberer you realized that kissing him was pleasant and you hadn't just thought about it because of the effects of the alcohol.

“I just wanted one more, in case my conversation ends up boring you and we never see each other again” you exclaimed playfully, without giving him time to respond because before he could react you had already jumped on tiptoe towards the exit.

He smiled when he saw that and began to pick up the clothes scattered on the floor, willing to get to know your mind better after having explored so many places on your body.

While he was getting dressed he thought that, for the first time he had brought a stranger home, things were looking great.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove @vivian-555 @r-3dlips @rhiannonhippiegirl @taygrls @simp4f1 @sdddoobydoobydoo @taintedstranger

[nofingjustaninchident]

ᯓ★ i hate you more pt.3

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

pairing jason grace x roman!reader

summary well, he should be dead, and she’d gladly kill him

warnings probably cursing, third person writing

now listening to bad blood by taylor swift

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Chiron invited them inside, sending Drew back to her cabin. y/n was glad when the girl walked away - her excessive touchiness with Jason had been grating on her nerves, as was the fact that she didn't even understand why it pissed her off so much. 

Especially because it shouldn’t, since they apparently hated each other so much. 

"Follow me," the centaur said. "We have lemonade." 

Grapevines covered the walls of the living room, running across the ceiling as well. y/n wasn't sure how they were able to grow inside, especially given the season, but they were leafy green and bursting with bunches of red grapes. 

The girl looked up at a stuffed leopard's head hung above the fireplace, so real-looking that its eyes seemed to move. It snarled at Jason, and she felt him nearly jump out of his skin next to her. 

“For the gods’ sake-” He muttered under his breath and y/n had to stop herself from snickering.  

"Now, Seymour," Chiron chided. "Jason is a friend. Behave yourself." 

Chiron threw a sausage to the leopard, who snatched it up and licked his lips. "You must excuse the decor," Chiron said. "All this was a parting gift from our old director before he was recalled to Mount Olympus. He thought it would help us remember him. Mr. D has a strange sense of humor." 

"Mr. D," Jason said. "Dionysus?" 

"Mhm." Chiron poured three glasses of lemonade, though his hands seemed to tremble slightly. He and Jason carried on a conversation about the old camp director and Seymour's origins, y/n watching in silence. She could tell that Chiron was wary of her as well, though he hadn't recognized her the way he recognized Jason. She supposed that was a good thing, giving the conditions - he had said Jason was supposed to be dead. 

"So, Jason, y/n," Chiron said. "Would you mind telling me – ah - where you're from?" 

"I wish we knew," Jason sighed. “I mean, i don’t. Maybe she does and just don’t want to tell anyone.”  

That earnt him a smack in the arm, which was nothing but passive-aggressive.  

y/n let Jason tell the story, only chiming in when he left out a detail or she needed to speak from her own experience. Chiron didn't react aside from nodding encouragingly for either of them to continue. 

When Jason was done, Chiron took a sip of his lemonade. "You only remember each other?" he asked for clarification. 

Y/n nodded. "Sadly, yes. Just names, but still." she muttered, looking over at Jason briefly. "Everything else is... blank." 

"I see," Chiron said. "Well, you must have questions for me." 

"I have one," y/n spoke up. "Any reason in particular those... naiads? Is that what they're called? Is there a reason they talked to me or...?” 

Chiron regarded her with inquisitive eyes. "They talked to you?" 

y/n nodded. "Yeah, one of them just... stood – can i say stood if they’re underwater? Anyway, one of them stood there and told me to just breathe." She tried to push away the memory of the human-like thing telling her to take a breath underwater. "Is that... normal?" 

"No," Chiron confessed. "That's highly unusual - naiads are typically friendly, especially the ones in the canoe lake, but they don’t usually talk. Well, at least, not that anyone could understand, anyway. The only person they talked to was...”  

With his pause, y/n looked expectantly at him. “The only person they talked was..?” And something Annabeth said came up to her. “Was it that guy that Annabeth talked about? Uh- Percy, right?”  

Chiron’s expression got somewhat darker, but he managed to cover it up. “Yes, Percy. He's one of our oldest campers now, but he’s missing.”  

“Oh.” y/n muttered. “Sorry.”  

“It’s no problem, child.” Chiron assured. “It wasn’t your fault.” 

But what if it was? 

"In any case, that indeed is strange," Chiron said quietly. "I will have a talk with them. Until then, it may be best to steer clear of the lake." 

"That won't be a problem," y/n muttered. 

"Do you have any other questions?" Chiron asked. 

"Uh, yeah," Jason admitted. "What did you mean when you said I should be dead?" 

Chiron studied him with concern. "Do either of you know what the marks on your arms mean? The color of your shirt, Jason? Do you remember anything?" 

Jason shook his head. "No, nothing," Jason said. 

"Do you know where you are?" Chiron asked. "Do you understand what this place is, who I am?" 

"You're Chiron the centaur," Jason said. "I'm guessing you're the same one from the old stories, who used to train heroes like Heracles." 

"And this is a camp for demigods," y/n said, "children of the Olympian gods." 

"So, you believe those gods still exist?" Chiron asked. 

"Yes," Jason answered immediately. y/n felt the same confidence, though she didn't know where it came from. "I mean, I don't think we should worship them or sacrifice chickens to them or anything, but they're still around because they're a powerful part of civilization. They move from country to country as the center of power shifts - like they moved from Ancient Greece to Rome." 

"I couldn't have said it better." Something in Chiron's voice had changed. "So, you already know the gods are real. You have both already been claimed, haven't you?" 

"Maybe," Jason answered. 

"We can't remember," y/n said. 

The leopard on the wall snarled, and Chiron studied them for a moment, waiting. y/n realized after a moment that Chiron had switched to another language, and she and Jason understood it fluently. 

"Quis erat-" Jason faltered, as if the language was automatic. "What was that?" 

"You know Latin," Chiron observed. "Most demigods recognize a few phrases, of course. It's in their blood, but not as much as Ancient Greek. None can speak Latin fluently without practice." 

y/n frowned, trying to wrap her brain around the fact that she could speak Latin, of all languages. Why couldn’t it be french, german, maybe? It felt so familiar on her tongue as she spoke it, the same as in her ears when Jason and Chiron did. 

"I taught your namesake, you know - the original Jason," Chiron said. "He had a hard path. I've seen many heroes come and go. Occasionally, they have happy endings. Mostly, they don't. It breaks my heart, like losing a child every time one of my pupils dies. But you two are unlike any pupils I've ever taught. Your presence here could be a disaster." 

"Thanks," Jason muttered. "You must be an inspiring teacher." 

"You should look into motivational speaking if you get bored here," y/n grumbled. 

Chiron sighed quietly. "I am sorry. But it's true. I had hoped after Percy's succeeded in the Titan War and saved Mount Olympus, we might have some peace. I might be able to enjoy one final triumph, a happy ending, and perhaps retire quietly. I should have known better. The last chapter approaches, just as it did before. The worst is yet to come." 

A heavy blanket of gloom seemed to rest over the entire room. 

"Okay," Jason said. "So - last chapter, happened before, worst yet to come. Sounds fun, but can we get back to the part where I'm supposed to be dead? I don't like that part." 

“Why not?” y/n asked, rolling her eyes as she looked at him with annoyance clear on her eyes. “I like it very much. Sounds appealing, doesn’t it?” It was as if the tease just had to leave her. She didn’t understand where all that came from.  

“Oh, fuck off for a moment.” He grumbled and flipped her off.  

"I'm afraid I can't explain, my boy. I swore on the River Styx and on all things sacred that I would never..." Chiron frowned. "But you're both here, a violation of the same oath. That, too, should not be possible. I don't understand. Who would've done such a thing? Who-" 

Seymour howled, his mouth freezing halfway. The fire stopped crackling, its flames hardening like red glass. 

Everything seemed to just... stop. 

"Chiron?" Jason asked. "What's going-" 

Chiron was frozen, too. Jason and y/n stood up, but Chiron's eyes didn't waver. His mouth was open mid-sentence, and he sat there, not blinking or even breathing from the looks of it. 

"Tell me you're seeing this, too," Jason whispered, reaching for y/n’s hand instinctively. 

She squeezed it tightly, not even noticing at first. She glanced down at it, and decided to stay holding it. It was the only sign that they both weren’t crazy. "Frozen centaur? Yeah, I see it." 

Jason, a voice spoke. y/n. 

A dark mist poured from Seymour's mouth. Storm spirits, she thought, her free hand going to her pocket and taking her key out. She and Jason both summoned their weapons. 

The mist shaped itself into a woman in black robes. 

Her face was hooded, but her eyes glowed in the darkness. Over her shoulders was a goat-skin cloak, falling down her back and brushing the floor. y/n recognized the cloak for some reason, and she knew somehow that it was important - that it was much more than a strange fashion choice. 

Would you attack your patron, Jason? the woman chided. Her voice seemed to echo in y/n’s mind, bypassing her ears entirely. Lower your swords. The two of you. 

"Who are you?" Jason demanded. "How did you—?" 

Our time is limited. My prison grows stronger by the hour. It took me a full month to gather enough energy to work even the smallest magic through its bonds. I've managed to bring you two here, but now I have little time left, and even less power. This may be the last time I can speak to either of you. 

"You're in prison?" Jason questioned, still not lowering his sword. "Look, I don't know you, and you're not my patron." 

You know me, the woman insisted. I have known you since your birth, Jason. 

"I don't remember," Jason said. "I don't remember anything." 

No, you don't, she agreed. Neither of you do. That was also necessary. Long ago, Jason, your father gave me your life as a gift to placate my anger. He named you Jason, after my favorite mortal. You belong to me, Jason. And unfortunately, she’s way too useful to be left behind.  

"Hey!” y/n protested.  

"Whoa," Jason said, ignoring her completely. Something told y/n that this was something he often did. "I don't belong to anyone." 

Now is the time to pay your debt, she said. Find my prison. The girl has the key to unlock me. Free me, or their king will rise from the earth, and I will be destroyed. You will never retrieve your memories. 

"You stole our memories?" y/n asked, her eyes narrowing at the hooded woman. "And you want us to help you?" 

You have until sunset on the solstice. Four short days. Do not fail me. 

The dark woman dissolved, the mist curling into Seymour's mouth. 

Time unfroze. Seymour's howl tapered off into a cough. The fire crackled to life and Chiron continued, 

"—would dare to bring you here?" 

"My guess is the lady in the mist," y/n muttered. 

Chiron looked up at them in surprise. "Weren't you just sitting... why are your swords drawn?" 

"I hate to tell you this," Jason said, "but I think your leopard just ate a goddess." 

He proceeded to Chiron what had happened when time froze. 

"Oh, dear," Chiron murmured. "That does explain a lot." 

"It does?" y/n asked. "Care to fill us in?" 

"Please," Jason added. 

Before Chiron could say anything else, the front door to the Big House blew open and Annabeth and another girl, a redhead, burst in, dragging an unconscious Piper between them. 

"What happened?" y/n asked, rushing over to them with Jason close behind, both of their swords abandoned on the coffee table. "What's wrong with her?" 

"Hera's cabin," Annabeth gasped, like they'd run all the way to the house. "Vision. Bad." 

The redhead looked up, and y/n saw tears on her cheeks. "I..." She gulped. "I think I may have killed her." 

                           𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 

The redhead – who, later, y/n discovered to be named Rachel Dare – had not, in fact, killed Piper. She was still breathing, though she couldn't seem to wake up. 

Ophelia didn't like the sight of the girl so pale and sickly, as if Hades himself had come up to the mortal world to take away her soul but forgot to do so. y/n was positive she didn't know the girl, not like she knew Jason, but they had survived a battle with storm spirits and a chariot crash within the span of just a few hours - things like that bonded people. 

Chiron put his hand on Piper's forehead, grimacing. 

"Her mind is in a fragile state. Rachel, what happened?" 

Rachel shook her head slightly. "I wish I knew," she said. "As soon as I got to camp, I had a premonition about Hera's cabin. I went inside. Annabeth and Piper came in while I was there. We talked, and then- I just blanked out. Annabeth said I spoke in a different voice." 

"A prophecy?" Chiron asked. 

"No. The spirit of Delphi comes from within. I know how that feels. This is like long distance, a power trying to speak through me." 

Annabeth ran into the room carrying a leather pouch. 

She knelt next to Piper. "Chiron, what happened back there - I've never seen anything like it. I've heard Rachel's prophecy voice. This was different. She sounded like an older woman. She grabbed Piper's shoulders and told her-" 

"To free her from a prison?" Jason offered, looking at y/n with a grimace. The latter was still staring at the girl laid down in front of her, wondering what she could do to help – or rather, if she could really do anything to help.  

Annabeth stared at him. "How did you know that?" 

Chiron made a strange three-fingered gesture over his heart, like a ward against evil. y/n tried to ignore the unsettling feeling it gave her. "Jason, y/n, tell them. Annabeth, the medicine bag, please." 

Chiron trickled drops from a medicine vial into Piper's mouth as Jason explained the vision he and y/n had witnessed of the woman who claimed to be Jason's patron. 

"Does this happen often?" y/n chimed in when he was finished talking. "Supernatural phone calls from convicts demanding you bust them out of jail?" 

"Patron," Annabeth said, looking at Jason with a frown. "Not your godly parent?" 

"No, she said patron. She also said my dad had given her my life," Jason said. 

Annabeth's frown deepened. "I've never heard of anything like that before. You said the storm spirit on the skywalk - he claimed to be working for some mistress who was giving him orders, right? Could it be this woman you saw, messing with you?" 

"I don't think so," Jason said. "If she was my enemy, why would she be asking for my help? She's imprisoned. She's worried about some enemy getting more powerful. Something about a king rising from the earth on the solstice-" 

Annabeth looked at Chiron, her face losing its color. 

"Not Kronos. Please tell me it's not that." 

Chiron was quiet for a moment, checking Piper's pulse before he finally answered, "It is not Kronos. That threat is ended. But..." 

"But what?" Annabeth asked. 

Chiron closed his medicine bag. "Piper needs rest. We should discuss this later." 

"Or now," y/n said with a frown. "You said the greatest threat was coming. The last chapter?" 

"You can't possibly mean something worse than an army of Titans, right?" Jason asked.  

"Oh," Rachel said, her voice small. "Oh, dear. The woman was Hera. Of course. Her cabin, her voice. She showed herself to Jason and y/n at the same moment." 

"Hera?" Annabeth looked downright murderous. "She took you over? She did this to Piper?" 

"I think Rachel's right," Jason said. "The woman did seem like a goddess. And she wore this- this goatskin cloak. That's the symbol of Juno, isn't it?" 

"It is?" Annabeth scowled. "I've never heard that." 

Chiron nodded. "Of Juno, Hera's Roman aspect, in her most warlike state. The goatskin cloak was a symbol of the Roman soldier." 

"So, Hera is imprisoned?" Rachel asked. "Who could do that to the queen of the gods?" 

Annabeth crossed her arms. "Well, whoever they are, maybe we should thank them. If they can shut up Hera-" 

"Annabeth," Chiron warned, "she is still one of the Olympians. In many ways, she is the glue that holds the gods' family together. If she truly has been imprisoned and is in danger of destruction, this could shake the foundations of the world. It could unravel the stability of Olympus, which is never great even in the best of times. And if Hera has asked Jason and y/n for help-" 

"Fine," Annabeth grumbled. "Well, we know Titans can capture a god, right? Atlas captured Artemis a few years ago. And in the old stories, the gods captured each other in traps all the time. But something worse than a Titan...?" 

"Hera said she'd been trying to break through her prison bonds for a month," Jason said. 

"Which is how long Olympus has been closed," Annabeth said. "So, the gods must know something bad is going on." 

Jason sighed, a look of frustration on his face. "But why use her energy to send y/n and me here?" he asked. "She wiped our memories, plopped us into the Wilderness School field trip, and sent you a dream vision to come pick us up. Why are we so important? Why not just send up an emergency flare to the other gods - let them know where she is so they can bust her out?" 

"The gods need heroes to do their will down here on earth," Rachel said. "That's right, isn't it? Their fates are always intertwined with demigods." 

"That's true," Annabeth said, "but Jason's got a point. Why them? Why take their memories?" 

"I'd like to know that myself," y/n muttered. 

"Piper's involved somehow," Rachel said. "Hera sent her the same message- Free me. And, Annabeth, this must have something to do with Percy's disappearance." 

Annabeth looked at Chiron, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Why are you so quiet, Chiron? What is it we're facing?" 

Chiron looked as if he'd aged ten years in a matter of minutes. "My dear, in this, I cannot help you. I am so sorry." 

Annabeth blinked. "You've never... you've never kept information from me. Even the last Great Prophecy-" 

"I will be in my office," Chiron announced, his voice heavy. "I need some time to think before dinner. Rachel, will you watch the girl? Call Argus to bring her to the infirmary, if you'd like. And Annabeth, you should speak with Jason and y/n. Tell them about- about the Greek and Roman gods." 

"But..." 

Chiron turned away, heading out of the room and down the hallway. Annabeth muttered something in Greek that y/n suspected wasn't too kind toward centaurs. 

"I'm sorry," Jason said. "I think us being here - I don't know. We've messed things up coming to the camp, somehow. Chiron said he'd sworn an oath and couldn't talk about it." 

y/n frowned, wanting to add that she definitely hadn’t asked to come to the camp, but she bit her tongue - it wasn't the time. 

 "What oath?" Annabeth demanded. "I've never seen him act this way. And why would he tell me to talk to you about the gods..." Her voice trailed off, looking at the two gold swords lying on the coffee table. She touched Jason's gingerly, like it might be hot. "Are these gold? Do you remember where you got it?" 

y/n shook her head, Jason doing the same. "We don't remember anything," she said. 

Annabeth nodded like she'd come up with a rather desperate plan. "If Chiron won't help, we'll need to figure things out ourselves. Which means... Cabin Fifteen. Rachel, you'll keep an eye on Piper?"  

"Sure," Rachel promised. "Good luck, you three."  

"Hold on," Jason said. "What's in Cabin Fifteen?"   

Annabeth stood. "Maybe a way to get your memories back." 

TAGLIST @maybxlle @sunshine-of-ur-life @liviessun @bellamysnatblida @mp-littlebit @cinemaconrad @eaterof-concrete

[midnightsnyx]

beautiful things p2 | mat barzal

my masterlist & part 1 pairing: mathew barzal x singer!reader summary: the aftermath of the interview. warnings: not edited, a lil angst but mostly fluff! please let me know if i missed anything. word count: 972 author note: i refuse to call twitter X. also there are most definitely inaccuracies but i hope you guys like anyways <3

“Hey, we made it on People Magazine’s Twitter,” Mat says eagerly, and you look up from the journal you’ve been jotting lyric ideas in. He has an endearing and adorable smile on his face as he looks at his phone.

Still, you can’t help but look at him, titling your head slightly “You haven’t been in People Magazine?” 

He laughs but his smile doesn’t waiver. “Not all of us are insanely talented musicians.”

You roll your eyes affectionately and lean over to press your lips firmly against his. The past few months have been nothing but bliss, since you replied to his DM. You were scared to open your heart again after your last relationship but Mat has shown you thus far that if you find the right person, it’s okay to let someone in.

“I don’t know,” you tease, pulling away. “I’ve seen you with a guitar.”

He blushes and tries to hide it by kissing you again. You let him, mainly because you’re enjoying it but also because you don’t want to push. 

You’re floating in pure euphoria right now, enjoying every moment and you don’t want it to end. 

“You’ll come to tonight's game, right?” He asks, brushing a loose piece of hair out of your face and resting a hand on your shoulder. One thing that you’ve learned about Mat is how tactile he is. He always wants to be touching you somehow, whether it’s an arm around your shoulder or holding your hand.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” you promise.

. . .

You love coming to Mat’s games, but some of the girls are still iffy about you which is understandable. You’ve only been dating Mat for five months and you are also in the media which brings a lot of attention. Sometimes unwanted attention. 

You also love your fans but they have a love/hate relationship with your relationship with Mat. Also taking into account his fans, and sometimes it’s too much. Like tonight. 

Everything starts great, there’s not much trouble getting to the stadium, but there are always fans waiting to hopefully get to see a hockey player or get a picture before the game. Someone sees you and then you’re back on Twitter and not the good side of Twitter.

You manage to get to your VIP suite pretty easily, Iris and some of your other friends with you. 

“I’d say I told you so, but you’d probably fire me,” Iris says dreamily, staring at the jumbotron that is showing a live feed of you. You’re not sure if it’s something you’ll ever get used to. You imagine this is what Taylor Swift feels like when she goes to Travis Kelce’s games.

“You just did,” you reply dryly but there’s no malice to your tone. You know exactly how Iris is and you love her for it.

Your eyes go back to the jumbotron, looking to see if they show Mat. You think you can see him on the ice from your current view, but you’re never sure unless he looks up and waves. 

“I’m glad I did, though,” you say and she looks at you for clarification. 

“Message him back. You were right.” 

She doesn’t say I told you so, or say any funny comeback. She just smiles and nods towards where the game has started. 

It’s a tight game and you’re on the edge of your seat for most of it but the Islanders win in overtime with a victory of 2–1, with Mat scoring the overtime goal. You watch the team celebrate on the ice before they head back to the locker room and you pull your phone out, shooting a quick text to Mat letting him know you’ll meet him at his place. With your security and his postgame interviews, it’s usually best to just meet at either of your houses.

You’re sitting with a glass of wine, watching the highlights from other games when Mat gets home. You can hear him drop his bag by the door and toss his keys on the counter before making his way to the living room where you are waiting. Max, your golden retriever is sitting by your feet but his tail starts wagging when he sees Mat. 

“Hey pal,” Mat mutters, bending down to greet the pup before plopping down on the couch next to you. He sighs, staring at the ceiling like he’s thinking hard about something.

“Penny for your thoughts?” You ask, putting your glass on the table and turning towards him. He turns his head towards you and opens and closes his mouth a few times. You’re starting to get nervous when he speaks.

“Move in with me,” he whispers and you freeze.

“Mat-”

“Look, I know it’s only been five months but we spend all our time together anyway. We’re just bouncing between houses.” He reaches out and takes one of your hands, intertwining your fingers together. “Let’s make it one house.”

The thought of moving in together absolutely terrifies you, but when you think about it, he’s right. If he’s not away for games or you’re not doing shows, you’re together and when you think about the future, Mat is standing next to you.

“Okay,” you say and his eyes widen. 

“Really? I thought I was going to have to get on my knees and beg,” he says and you’re not sure if he’s kidding or not.

So you shrug. “You make valid points. Plus, I think Max would like not to be shuffled around so much.”

He grins and leans in to kiss you. “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” you murmur when you pull away and then Max jumps up on the two of you as if he knows a decision has been made and Mat almost falls off the couch but you have never been happier.

tag list: @ilyrafe

[obitos-whore]

Can you do more Gaara relationship HC's- except this time with the reader as his adoptive mother? Please? 🥺 @aurorafandomblog

A/N: I read your second ask and I greatly appreciate the clarification. You really had me spooked for a sec lol. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it.

────────────────────────────────────

• You were walking through the streets of Sunagakure when a soft crying caught your attention

• Concerned, you looked for the source of it and that's when you saw a little boy sitting all by himself crying his little heart out

• "Hey, what's wrong little one?"

• When Gaara hears your voice, he looks up. His eyes all red and puffy from the tears he had shed

• "Everyone hates me and calls me a monster and I don't know why. I just want someone to like me."

• Your heart shatters into a million pieces upon hearing and seeing how desperate that little boy is. The pain and loneliness in his eyes palpable

• You try to console the little boy and ask for his name, which he tells you between soul-crushing sobs

• That's when the realisation hits you. But instead of backing away and calling him names like the other villagers, you decide to sit with him and offer him comfort. Something no one, aside from Yashamaru, had ever done for him

• Gaara, desperate for someone to be there for him, immediately accepts and after a while, calms down enough to hold a proper conversation in which he practically blurts out everything that is on his heart and mind, causing you to feel even more sympathy for that poor child

• After learning about his mother's death and how his own family, especially his own father, treats him, you decide then and there to take that poor boy under your wing and be the mother he never had but definitely deserves

• Gaara is a little reluctant at first. After all, you could be playing a cruel prank on him and rub more salt into his already stinging wounds. But after you assured him that you are a 100% sincere, he accepts and even asks you for a hug, which, of course, will be given to him

• Under your care, Gaara will finally get to see what it feels like to receive a mother's love and he will make sure that you always know how grateful he is for that

• The first thing he does in the morning after waking up is give you a hug. Sometimes he'll cling to you while you are making breakfast

• Gaara will give you flowers he finds when he's outside as a gift. When you put them in a vase, he will bring you more until you have a whole bouquet of wild flowers

• Whenever he struggles with his insomnia, or when Shukaku is tormenting him again, he comes to your room crying and completely devastated, seeking comfort within the warmth of your arms

• You would often stay up the whole night just to keep him company and make sure he's distracted so that Shukaku's tormenting can't get to him

• Of course you taking care of Gaara doesn't go unnoticed by the villagers. They would often call you names as well, because how dare you take care of a literal child that is hated by everyone for something he had no control over and, most importantly, never even asked for

• And while Gaara feels guilty for being the reason people shun you as well, you know how to put them in their place and fiercely defend that little boy. Even physically if necessary

• On his birthdays, you always make sure to make him feel extra cherished and get him wonderful toys. Something that took him completely by suprise the very first time you did that. Because it was the first time he wasn't bombarded with scornful glances

• He's pretty much a mama's boy and tends to get anxious when he's separated from you for too long, asking himself all sorts of questions and overthinking things in a quite drastic way

• Thanks to your love and care, Gaara manages to handle Shukaku's torments and his abilities a lot better, resulting in a much more mentally stable personality

• You're not only his mother, but also his best friend. He trusts you completely and knows he can come to you at all times when something is troubling him

• As Gaara got older, he of course became more independent. However, he still finds comfort in your presence and makes sure to give you a hug and tells you how much he loves you and how grateful he is for everything you've done for him

[hoovesandfloorpaws]

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[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

Fresh Heals of Old Pain

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader

Length: 21.7k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, references to past sexual abuse, insecurities and trauma exploration, encouragment of cheating/infidelity, commuication failures, unhealthy alcohol consumption, smut, car sex, exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), p in v

Notes: A continuation of my modern!au 'Woes of a Modern Day Love' References to that will be present, but reading that to understand this are not necessary. Previous Installment Here, Series Masterlist Here

If one was to ask him how felt with every ounce of honesty in his chest, Jon Snow would’ve said that sitting there felt akin to a death sentence. As if things were not yet bad enough, the coming company had made complaints that it was going to be far too cold for the approaching party and thus the temperature all throughout the buildings of Castle Black were warm. Far too warm for a group full of men dressed in black uniforms, some made with fine leathers. Then there had been the humiliating act of having to store away all of their weapons as if they were children, as the newcomer did not appreciate strangers yielding weaponry in their presence.

Then came the rules, don’t ask this, don’t speak unless spoken to, don’t step out of line, don’t mention this or that, most of all as Lord Commander Mormont had put it, “The Nights Watch has traditionally been an ancient order sworn, steering clear of the politics of the Seven Kingdoms, and so for these next coming weeks, we will uphold that no matter how much you hate doing it. I don’t care what any of you do or say at home, just don’t do it here.” That had a number of eyes looking between one another.

Before at least Edd had spoken up from where he sat next to Jon with his usual low, and unserious droll. “You planning on leading by example on that one, Lord Commander?” Most of the brothers all chuckled, the Old Bear himself included.

Affirming that he was, but not without a clarification to set the record straight. “I’m not saying that we are going to lick their boots, but be on your best behaviour. We are not allowing them here to make friends, only avoid making an enemy. One week, don’t do anything stupid and it’ll all be over with.”

Still Jon thought, this was an unfair and cruel way to die. Or at least it had felt like he was dying for hours now. His phone going off when it was still dark out this morning, saying that he needed to come in for this meeting, and Jon had all but snapped at the caller with a rough tone husking out in a very impatient anger of what they wanted without even looking at the number. It could only have been a call to come in, vibrating against his night side table over and over and Jon had been unreasonably angry about having to answer it, let alone get up then and there to come in.

Jon had just managed to kiss a path down to drink between your legs, the hope you would wake up just before he would make you cum, when he was told to come in. For this of all meetings.

Finally though, as the meeting dissipated, Jon found himself now in the kitchens by the mostly empty dining hall waiting for the inevitable approach of one of his brothers coming to ask what had him so worked up. He knew his face sat in a permanent scowl the whole morning, and as he grabbed the coffee only lukewarm left did each action have him slamming something either back into place or onto the counter.

He had not supposed to be here today, it was all planned out to not be here. If staying here in the temporary quiet in the kitchens, Jon might be able to have closed his eyes and gone back to the night before. Jon had finally convinced you to come out with him to meet some of his friends from North of the Wall. You had avoided it for weeks, saying that you weren’t sure you were the right person to fit in with them, only for Jon to argue that most of them all hated his guts for years. “If they like me now after all that, they’ll love you right away.”

The nerves had gotten to you, on the drive to the bar Tormund had told Jon they would all meet at, you had been rather quiet. Fingertips tapping against the side of the car your hand rested on with an incessant pattern, each time Jon would glance to you when he knew you didn’t know he was looking you’d have that tense clench in your jaw as if you were biting down hard on your tongue. Which Jon knew you probably were. More then once you had not so subtly glanced down to your clothes or eyes flickering to the side mirrors as if to judge how you had looked again.

Jon didn’t blame you though, it hadn’t exactly been very long. Jon had known you for so many years, since you were children, but this between you was incredibly new in comparison. You had struggled to adjust to being in a relationship with Jon more then he’d seen you struggle to get used to any of the vile men you dated before. So often when alone with him you seemed as if you were unsure how to act at times, and you apologized more then he’s ever heard someone in his life.

Maybe if he was only taking you to see the others you already knew, you’d be more at ease. You knew Grenn and Pyp, you knew Edd and Sam, and of course if Sam had been there so would Gilly and you’d have at least one person more like you to relax with. But as much as the free folk Jon knew wanted to meet you already, Jon knew you did not have a great history with spending time with the friends of men in the Nights Watch. It felt a lifetime ago the day Jon had picked you up from Karl Tanners house and finally brought you home, when not even a year had passed. It had been only three months since the incident with Ramsay Bolton, and only now coming close to a month and a half since you had been with Jon.

But you had nothing to be nervous about, and he loved watching why.

For a while he had watched you across the room with Karsi and a few others. Them showing you a quite unorthodox version of billiards that had you laughing along with them at how aggressive the competition had gotten. During dinner Tormund had been quick to throw teases and jesting insults your way to test how well you could withstand it and you had hurled them right back with an even dryer tone of voice with ease.

Jon and him had been sitting at the table still, drinks in hand as they discussed you. Having mentioned to them the ex boyfriends you used to have, Tormund now that you were away begun to pry most of the details from him. “Oh I knew Tanner. Little fucker he is. Wouldn’t surprise me if he shared her around to those other creeps who were always with him. What was it, Locke and...” Gesturing vaguely in the air reaching in his memory. “You know, the one with the face like a ball sack.”

“Rast.”

Snapping his fingers, Tormund got back around. “Thats the one.” Asking in a low roughness, Jon asked what he meant by share and Tormunds answer had only made Jons hands clench tight enough one could see the strain in his knuckles. “Would pass around our women when they used to come into our territory, and those were all women who could fight back men like that. Can’t imagine she has any size to fight back if Tanner would tell her to get on her knees for his friends-” Jon interrupted with a gruff warning of his name but Tormund passed by it, “You asked what I meant. I told you.”

Only quiet for a second before Jon gritted out, “If he did that to her, why wouldn’t she tell me about it?”

But it was not Tormund who answered. You still over with a few of the others, Karsi had come over obviously hearing the ends of the discussion. “Why would she?” Sitting down, she nodded to the barmen giving her an asking look of wanting another ale, before looking back to Jon. “Her last man knocked her around in the same house as you and she took off for days to avoid talking about it. Do you really think she is going to now admit even worse shit happened to her when she lived hours away from you?”

Jons eyes glanced back over to you, still blissfully unaware of the conversation he was having. The alcohol in your system had given you a buzz, allowing you the freedom and a lack of insecurity to laugh and smile more. Rasping out somewhat muffled into taking sip, “I’m not talking about this anymore.” Both Karsi and Tormund had asked why, and Jon had just slammed the drink down as he pushed himself up without another word. Knowing at least, these people of anyone took no offence to his sudden turn.

He had come up behind you, his hands pulling you back into him by your hips as he leaned down to your ear. Saying he wanted to head home while he was still sober enough to drive you. In reality, by the time Jon had gotten out of the parking lot, he had found a dark side dirt road to pull to the side off before all but dragging you into his lap.

Jon hadn’t asked you about what Tormund or Karsi put in his head, all he could focus on in that moment the second he turned to glance at you was how men like Ramsay and Tanner had no right treating you anywhere close to that way. Jon had only been with you for a little over a month, and even though he had known you most of his life, he knew it was way too soon to tell you he loves you. But that hadn’t meant Jon didn’t pull over almost right away, drag you onto his lap and steal every bit of air in your lungs with his kiss.

The moment you had turned to ask him if somewhat was wrong, did Jon lean over and drag your lips to his. Not sparing a moment, you held onto him as he deepened his kiss without thought. Biting at your lips and sliding his tongue inside your mouth the moment you had gasped at the feeling. Pulling back to just your lips, teeth, tongue all over again, different patterns and lengths of time until you nearly gasped desperate for air as he just barley pulled from your lips. Moving everything from the way in a second, the moment there was room for you, did Jon nearly lunge over and haul you over onto his lap.

Cupping the back of your neck to kiss you again, your hands reached around the back of his neck, only able to hold onto the ride, knowing you couldn’t even move if not his will. Only one hand needed to pull his cock out, already hard and thick, Jon also then pulled from your lips. Looking down to pull up the skirt of your dress enough and almost angrily tore at your underwear until it was in tatters at the bottom of his front seat.

Jons car was not a place he was good at taking his time, and he knew it. Sinking you down on his cock, Jon groaned deeply as you cried out. He was not kind, moving you as if against your will, you held on. Being bounced on his thick length, you were ruining him. Only tiny little sounds coming from you over and over unable to keep your eyes open as Jon felt angry he couldn't watch himself sink inside of you.

Slowing enough, Jon took over. Yanking your shirt up and off your chest, leaving your breasts out for him as he grabbed your hips again. That time, you both knew with your own embarrassment, Jon was watching your breasts as he bounced you on his cock. You were soaking and warm and so tight around him, each clench making it worse, having to fuck up into your harder.

Murmuring in a low rasp as his hands dragged you up and down his length that he wanted to try something new, he wanted to wake you up with his mouth. You had asked breathlessly if he meant the next morning and Jon had rasped out, “Any morning.” You had dropped your head into his shoulder with such a shy nod it had him throbbing inside of you, and Jon pulled you back to his lips knowing he was going to make you cum as he tasted you to wake you up come sunrise.

Your orgasm shattered around you, holding tightly onto him as he fucked you through it, but something in Jons mind through the alcohol in both your systems had snapped. Pulling you from his kiss, Jon looked you up and down. “Lay down.” A breathless ask of what, Jon was almost looking in an anger with his sternness. “In the back, you’re going to lay out for me.”

Pulling you off of him, Jon ensured you carefully without hurting yourself could climb into the back seat before he tucked himself back. Leaving the car with a rough slam of his door, Jons eyes scoured the no one going by, and thought, even if they did, let them look.

Opening the back door, Jon had spared no time in pulling your skirt right off of you as you gasped in suprise. Leaving you bare in his back seat, Jon climbed up over you, slamming and locking the door behind him. A look up the other doors too were locked. There was so little room back here but thats what he wanted. He wanted to have you close and warm against him, even moreso with your bare form below against him fully dressed.

Kissing you again, your hands wound around his neck and holding onto his hair, Jon biting roughly at your bottom lip before shifting slightly. Partially on the ground Jon yanked your leg open wide. Kissing from your calf up to your knee and growing greedy and almost sloppy as his lips dragged up your thigh. Dark eyes watching yours the whole time before he had you out on an obscene display in his car for him. Mouth feasting upon your cunt with a greed, tongue against your clit before sucking the bundle of nerves with such a sudden roughness that you were utterly soaking his mouth already. Out of nowhere Jon dragged an orgasm from you, sinking down more to drink deep from you, a growl in his chest as you came on his tongue. One to the next his mouth brought you too before as you just barley were to cum again he tore his mouth from you.

Your eyes still closed barley catching your breath did Jon pull his cock back out as it strained painful confined against his jeans. Moving again to hover over you, yanking a thigh high up in his hip did Jon run his thumb tight over your clit, rasping roughly as he stared at your eyes barley able to even meet his in the moonlight. “Come on, darling, come on.” Just as your orgasm waved over you, did Jon sink inside of you.

In truth, it took not long for him to follow. A fast pace he couldn’t possibly keep up when you both were this worked up and not sober, but he was rough. No doubt leaving a sting between your legs as the car echoed every sound back to your ears of your cries and his grunts, and fully dressed his clothes scratched at your inner thighs. Pounding so deeply inside, truly Jon had spilled inside of you before he knew it.

Roughly kissing you all the while his hips sunk again and again into yours as he came. By the time Jon got you home, he had fallen asleep unable to let the ecstatic feeling leave his bones, that when he woke up first the next morning, Jon was going to kiss down your body, spread your legs again and drink deeply from your cunt until you woke up, and only then when you came for him awake would Jon sink inside you all over again.

Instead he was here, at the Wall in the now too hot building as every taste of the coffee he drank almost was bitter in comparison to what he truly had wanted that morning and it only made him more angry. The reasons why unknown, but even the Old Bear had picked up on his tenseness. “I’ve never quite seen anyone treat that coffee maker like they hate it as much as you do, Snow.”

A harsh swallow to finish what was left in his mug, he sat it down with a clench back in his jaw. “I apologize-”

“Don’t apologize to me. Apologize to your future paycheck that will be taken out of to pay for a new one if you break the damn thing.” Barley a half smirk came across his face, and luckily, the man was smart enough when not to press Jon when this in a mood.

He had the option to leave, approaching his desk Jon considered he idea of going home now very tempting, knowing he’d have you alone for hours. But when he had gotten to his desk, computer off, Jon had glanced to his phone and saw nothing from you yet. Normally when he left you a note if he left earlier then you woke up, you’d text him your response so he knows you read it. Nothing. It was nearly noon, you’d be awake no doubt. But he had nothing. You had posted nothing anywhere either, normally at least replying to someone’s post online out of the hundreds of people you seemed to know. And when he texted you twice, you still didn’t respond.

So Jon turned his computer on, he’d write his report until you did and then he’d finally head out to his car. Or that was his plan. Opening up his browser though, the news story posted all over the main page told him exactly why you didn’t respond, and he felt a dread at not having put it together before. If he wasn’t looking forward to the so called “guest” coming to visit Castle Black before, he certainly was looking forward to it even less now. He knew who was visiting here, but not why they were in Westeros, until now.

“Daenerys Targaryean lands in Westeros, the first challenge against House Baratheon’s governance in three hundred years.”

Pulling into the driveway, the moment Jon stepped from the car did Ghost come barrelling his way. Knocking him nearly over with his enthusiasm as he kneeled down, hands running over his white fur with an affection shining in his eyes and smile. “I know. I missed you too, boy.” Standing up, Jon glanced up to where he could see your window from the side of the house. Your light off, but he knew Robb and Theon weren’t back yet either. Looking down with your name on his lips Jon asked, “Where is she?”

That was when a small whine left the direwolf as Jon nodded for him to show where you were. Out by the back of the property, there was a variety of spaces laid out as if once a great courtyard of a grander manor now split into many buildings and homes. Right up by a cliffside against a path leading up to the wolfswood was a small sitting area not often used by any of the Starks on a normal basis. Too far from either the main family home, or the smaller more apartment style home that he and his brother, and Theon all lived in.

But he could see you over there not even sitting. Pacing back and forth as he could tell you were on the phone and likely had been for a while. He could hear an echo of your voice from where he stood, and you clearly sounded stressed. Were you to have two hands free instead of one he knew you’d be gesturing vaguely all over as if to emphasize whatever point you were arguing. Catching the tail end of something as you had yelled in a frustration, “I don’t care what you think, Joffery. You’ve never taken it seriously-”

Jon looked down to Ghost, whose red eyes gazed up to meet as both wolves felt the worry in how worked up you were but he wasn’t sure interrupting you was a good idea. The feeling in him to go over to you, pull you to him and help you relax was so painfully strong, as was the burning need in his system to finish what you didn’t even yet know he started that morning. His mouth could water thinking about your taste and the longer he watched you not having it the worse that need got.

Beckoning Ghost to follow, he went inside. One by one those whom came inside did not really help the tense feeling in the air. The first was Robb, all but slamming the door behind him and disappearing without even realizing Jon was there into his room, where he heard his phone go off likely as it had been all day. Theon followed next, an agitation in his shoulders but at least he had made his way into the main room after grabbing a much needed drink.

Sighing as he fell down into his own seat, grumbling as he let his head fall back and close his eyes, running his free hand over it. “You’re lucky to be in the Nights Watch. Not having to deal with shit like this.” Still feeling somewhat out of the loop in general, Jon prompted Theon to elaborate.

The mans head shooting up at the sound of the front door opening and closing, Jon not far from where he sat ready to jump up needing to have you to himself for even just a moment. Only you were much like Robb, finding your way into your room with a firm close of your door, within seconds the likely sounds of you on the phone once more muffled to Jons ears.

The urge to look unbelievably grumpy about it was an immense feeling to swallow down.

Theon finally elaborated a little now that the door slamming seemed to have ceased. “You heard about the Targaryean?” Jon nodded. “Apparently she’s been building her case over in Essos about why she should have the right to come here and take back her families seat. Someone forgot to tell her after three hundred years, it isn’t your seat anymore. And now-”

Jon was short and a bit quiet, “Now shes coming here.” Theon asking how Jon knew that, the dreading look came over him too. “She’s coming to the Wall. Apparently her advisor has a connection to Lord Commander Mormont and so he’s bringing her up there to try and start her campaign in an easy spot.”

Both men looked at each other in a knowing. “How long is she up there?” Answering a week, Theon whistled out as he looked away. “Don’t know if I should envy you then. Having to put up with some entitled diplomat for an entire week, or just having to handle the fallout she’s causing the rest of us.”

Back and forth they went over details when the discussion finally came around to them. “Robb’s got pretty much all of your fathers work on his plate out of nowhere and every other bloody House in the North is either calling him or your father about her coming here.” Jon asking your name, but he knew the answer already. “If your last name is Baratheon, then you were all but dragged into the family business all over again.”

You had begun working from home to avoid being part of your uncle and fathers political jobs, but judging by how stressed you looked from what little he saw of you, they had forced your hand into getting involved. By the time Robb had emerged, he looked less irritated and only exhausted now. A hand patting against Jons shoulder before his brother sat on the other side of the couch. “Hope you’ve enjoyed your one month with her, Snow. At this rate, I wouldn’t be surprised if her father and uncle drag her all the way back to Kings Landing for this one.”

Jons eyes only flew to the hall he knew you were in, even though the door couldn’t be seen from where he sat. Robb said it as a joke, but Jons eyes went a bit wider as his heart skipped a beat. You couldn’t leave now, he had just gotten you. You had only started to find a life again, you had just met some of his friends. Jon felt something he wasn’t able to yet identify as panic. This was too new to survive you going so far away for so long. You’d leave him and not want him when you got back.

It didn’t get any better by the time Jon went to bed. You had passed out exhausted in your room. Not his. Jon sat at his desk just looking at his bed, at your side of the bed. Since that first morning you shared together, you had slept in his room, in his arms every single night. At this time the night before, Jon had you in his lap in his car. Your perfect high pitched yet shy pleads of his name in his ear as your hands grasped him desperately. Two hands gripping your hips so tightly as Jon struggled not to fuck up into you even rougher then he was bouncing you on his cock. Finally moving you to lay out in the back seat so he could fuck you properly. Hitch your leg up on his hip and pound into.

Yet here he sat in his own room, nothing close to that. It would be inappropriate to join you in your bed already. He had given you his office so you had privacy, and going into your room to carry you to his would be equally as inappropriate when you hadn’t even expressed want to. So Jon went to bed alone that night.

And again for three nights afterwards.

You were more tired then you’d been in months. Every single night your family had all been in touch as you suddenly had been dragged back into these affairs. Your father stating, “I did not bring you to Kings Landing for a wasted education.” Not at all acknowledging that you did not ask for the courses, nor did you want to choose them for yourself. If he had his way you would move back to the captiol and utilize your business education. Instead you met him halfway, each morning sending someone to come pick you up and meeting at one of the many buildings between Winterfell and Moat Cailin, you now sitting around the meeting table growing closer and closer to two options.

Falling asleep where you sat, or throwing something at Jofferys head. Your cousin only served to make all of this far worse, considering you had wanted nothing to do with this in the first place. You had done everything to move away from the politics of your family, but your uncle and father both had determined that all of you needed to be working as a unit on this campaign. Joffery across from you had spoken up rather loudly, “She has no right to come here and make stupid claims. Who does she think she is?”

Glaring your eyes up to him, your voice was as dry as the heaviness of it was laced with condescension. “We went over this the other day, but allow me to explain it again. She’s essentially utilizing a very old law she dug from hundreds and hundreds of years ago about lines of succession. Now, the law was never written to be more explicit about our present governance, as it was still a matter of monarchy then, but she seems to think if she can sway enough people to her side that perhaps it will grant her the authority of your fathers seat.”

Asking if that would work, Renly had the easy answer without the attitude you provided. “It could, if it were hundreds of years ago and we all still had armies made up of knights and horses.” A back and forth begun around you, as your eyes once more begged to close. Three nights in a row you had passed out at your desk, the night before that you had sat down to finally peel your boots off and the next thing you knew you were being awoken before dawn to a phone call from your fathers driver informing him he was there to pick you up. Most of the past nights you hadn’t even returned home until the three of them were asleep.

It was depressing, utterly depressing. Anyone whose last name wasn’t Baratheon you hadn’t even spoken too since the news broke. Your father stood at the head of the table, seemingly none to happy he had his repulsive nephew being tagged onto his side but you could only think that was such form of punishment for forcing you to take a leave from your job for this. Being informed that you and Renly both were to be in charge of Public Relations, you being the one to gather the information and Renly to enact plans to keep up the best appearances possible.

Though if you were being completely honest with yourself, you would have admitted that the moment the meeting finished you had been the first to leave without any goodbyes knowing your father was not yet done with you. You knew what was coming, him saying you were to return to Kings Landing but you were not ready for that.

You were not strong willed enough to defy your fathers orders so blatantly, so you were quick in avoiding being given them in the first place. You didn’t want to go back to that rats nest of a captiol, you hated living there and everyone in it. You wanted to stay in the North. Yet, something even more upsetting brewed deep in your heart at the thought of what would happen should you leave now.

Everything between Jon and yourself was still incredibly new, if you left now, it was early enough that he may simply move on without you there. It had been days since you saw or spoke to him already. Making your way down the steps of the building you resisted the urge to look at your phone. You’d see missed calls and email after email, messages between you and Robb as he was as flooded with work over this as you, as well as a few from Theon. You wondered if you would check and still had none from Jon, what did that mean going forward?

You didn’t know for sure whose voice it was the thought spoke in, but someone in your mind was simply telling you that Jon had gotten bored of you. Which of course he had, afterall twice you had boyfriends to drill into your head that you weren’t a “good lay” let alone even something worth looking at.

The longer away from him your family would keep you, how quick would it take for him to find someone new?

Jon was so vastly uncomfortable. She had arrived with a numerous amount of guard, all but demanded attention anytime she was in the room and none of them it seemed could say no to what she asked of them. The Targaryean had a way about her that to Jon, came off as rude and smug. Always feeling the need to interject whenever she disagreed on something as if her opinion had any bearing of any present matter but the Old Bear had said to be respectful.

More then once though since she had arrived at the Wall, had this Daenerys watched him. Most of the time from across the room as he had more then enough duties to keep him busy the entire day but she’d walk into a room and seek him out as he avoided her gaze. The first she had ever spoken to him, she had been left in the room by the advisor at her side being pulled away to another room for a moment when she begun walking.

Jon was keenly aware she had been nearing his desk, and more tense his shoulders grew trying to focus on the work in front of him. If she thought he hadn’t noticed she was incorrect. Even were Jon not someone who was always atune to his surroundings, if he couldn’t simply sense she was there, the abnormally immaculate manner of dress gave it away. He wasn’t quite sure where she thought she had come to, if she thought this level of ornate designs and style was at all fitting.

“I don’t believe we have met yet.”

Play nice, Jon told himself. Mormont had said to play nice. Turning to glance up at her, Jon only gruffed out a short “No.” A very awkward pause passed consisting of Jon returning to his work when she had asked if he planned on introducing himself. “Jon Snow.”

There was an authority in her tone, almost as if to say in silence he not refuse her. “And what it is you are currently doing, Jon Snow?” Eyes flickering to her and the computer, Jon somewhat turned so he at least partially faced her when she had come rather close.

Clearing his throat, Jons eyes turned back to the screen. Missing the hint of a smirk shining in her eyes. “It’s a trade agreement outline. The Nights Watch receives a certain amount of resources, and we have a trade deal with the free folk so to ensure enough goods are passed onto them that are harder to come by North of the Wall.” Asking him what sort of goods, “Medicine and medical devices are most common.”

It was an odd thing, that her eyes seemed to be on the screen but yet as Jon spoke they had flickered down to his desk for only a moment. Without his notice, Jons phone sat out had lit up as a new message came through. All of his message notifications were set to private as so wandering eyes could not just read what any sent him, but it still popped up enough that Jons lock screen was clear as day.

The photo was a rare one he had managed to capture only weeks ago. He had laid you out on his bed, your hair splayed across his sheets beautifully as Jon was partially hovering over your front, one hand pressed to the sheets to prop himself up. The other cupping your cheek as he had angled you up to is lips. He had it set to take many in a short span of time, and the perfect one he chose was beautiful to him.

Just the hint of Ghost laying beside you as his head had moved to rest on your stomach, your own hands gently grasping at Jons waist. It was not the kiss the photo showed, but in the mere second Jon had pulled away, still so close the faint silhouette trace of a strand of saliva connected between you both was just visible if one looked hard enough. You both were fully dressed but it was one of the most intimate photos he felt he had of you.

Agreeing to let him set his phone camera up just for this moment, and the one he chose was right as he pulled from your lips after getting too carried away. Your lips clearly a bit swollen from where he had bit at your bottom one with a roughness.

There was no mistakening the dynamic between him and you in the photo, but he had never thought of people seeing it. It wouldn’t matter who saw it. Until it did. Until a pair of purple eyes glanced down and in the seconds his phone remained lit, had recognized the other person in the photo.

It was that very phone Jon was currently toying with. Typing and deleting each and every message he tried to think of in a way that didn’t sound as if he was being far too possessive. He had wanted to hear from you, he wanted to see you, even just in a photo of whatever you were doing right now. He needed to have anything from you because he was worried but each time he tried to phrase it, it sounded as if he was trying to order you around.

A cawing from above dragged Jons eyes up, a narrowed squint in the sun at the sight of the large, exotic birds now making their home in the skies above his station. She had brought them over from Essos, apparently not aware that their feeding needs were a drain on their food resources with no offer to make up for it. But it all felt lackluster to Jon. You had slept in the apartment every night for days but you may as well have been gone from Jons life.

Robb had said you were being kept busy handling issues having arisen from the very woman walking about his station with her unnerving watchful eyes towards him. It was rare part of Jon wished he followed Robb and Theon into the familys work. They at least partially got to keep in touch with you, whereas whenever Jon was on duty he was isolated here with no way of reaching out to you if you were too busy.

Four days he hadn’t seen you and he missed you. He wanted to see your beautiful face again, hear your voice murmuring quietly as you both laid facing one another in his bed right before Jon would decide he wanted to take you one more time. Gods did he miss that. As if the interruption that morning had set him on edge. He wanted you in his arms, to kiss you until you would whine at how much he refused to let you breath. He needed to pry your legs open and drink from you for so long you’d forget anything not his touch. And right when he was finished, would Jon finally slide inside of you, knowing you’d be so sensitive by then.

Sex was never really important to Jon before you, but now it felt as if it was the easiest way Jon and you could open up to one another. You gave yourself to him as much as he did you, and all of your uncertainties or insecurities were gone when he had you like that. Jon missed the feeling so pure in his heart that he’d struggle to withhold his desire to tell you how much he loves you. He missed all of it, and the voice which joined him did not add well to his agitated state.

“Wonderful aren’t they?” Coming up to his side she braced her hands on the railing to the point Jon couldn’t help but notice how close she stood. Gazing up at the birds she continued as if Jon said anything. “In Essos they say these are the last living descendants of the dragons of Valyria.” One separated from the other two, more blueish in colour and strange looking like the others as if covered in scales. “That one is Rhaegal. I named him for my eldest brother. That one too, the small one. Viserion, I named after my other brother once he passed.” Jon only giving an apology for it as she only seemed to smile to the sky. “The last one with the black colouring, Drogon. Named after my late husband.”

Again, what Jon could say was very little. “I’m sorry. Losing your partner couldn’t have been easy.”

Inhaling with more of a knowing smirk. She only replied in a tone suggesting something Jon had yet to pick up on. “I appreciate your kindness. But it was some years ago now. Eventually we all move on from the ones we love, finding it somewhere else we don’t expect.” Her eyes which Jon did notice, looked down to his phone first and then him. “I was considering taking a walk up above on the Wall, I would be grateful to have someone to knows their way around.”

Jon tensed up, and if she sensed it, she clearly did not care. “It’s a straight path one end to the other, I’m sure your guard can manage.” Yet she persisted.

“I could speak to your Lord Commander about requesting an escort, but since you are already right here and clearly not doing anything.” She didn’t need to finish her sentence. Her eyes glanced to his phone once more before Jon relented. Were she to go to Mormont, he’d assign Jon anyways he already knew. There was no point in delaying it.

More then once when she would wish to step closer to the open gaps, as if he should’ve already known better, she would extend her hand out as if needing him to guide her up the small steps and back down. The smile each time Jon continued to not enjoy, but he had to only get through this day and it would be over.

Only it went on and on. Daenerys found every reason to force Jon to her side and considering his position, no one questioned it. He was second in command next to Mormont so it made sense that he would be showing her around. Only a willing guide may have looked far less on edge then Jon had.

By the time he had walked into the main building the next morning however, Mormont informed him that she had requested he be her personal guide the remainder of her visit as she travelled also to the Shadow Tower and Eastwatch by the Sea. “It will be a week long trip, and you will receive a fortnight off afterwards to make up for it.”

Yet Jon could sense there was something else coming, if by the way Alliser Thorne were looking at him with eyes amused in a maliciousness. Before Jons dreading heart even had the chance to ask, did the man answer for him. “You will be with her day and night until she returns.”

Quickly Jon felt his heart begin to beat a little more painfully, his voice a strained rasp as he attempted to hide such a feeling behind a sternness that no doubt was not bought. “Lord Commander, I’m not comfortable with-”

And yet, the Old Bear did what he did best. Shut things down to get to the point. “I don’t care if you’re comfortable. I care about playing nice with a politician long enough to get her out of our hair. I suggest you go home now to pack whatever you may need, she wants to begin her tour as soon as she arrives. You’ll be fine, she’s taken a liking to you.”

What protest could Jon give, this was his duty. He knew whatever he said would not be convincing but he had to try anyways. “That’s my problem, Lord Commander. I’m not the right person for this, I have a-” He couldn’t even get out the word girlfriend before Thorne had picked it up and thrown him right out the door metaphorically.

“Unless she’s your wife, it isn’t serious enough to get out of this.” Jon could feel his muscles twitch wanting to say something, anything to change their minds. But they dismissed him before he could come up with it.

Gathering his jacket he had just sat at his desk, he looked up to Sam having just arrived. Swallowing down a heaviness in his throat that he could not allow to come out here of all places. “What’s wrong with you?”

Wide eyes forcing into a furrowed brow to pack his stuff that he may need from here. “Mormont has me bringing Daenerys around the Wall for the week to show her around.” Sam didn’t quite pick it up at first why it would make Jon this on edge, even asking as such what the problem was when Jons head shot up looking with a glare, and an exasperation in his voice. “What’s the problem? I can’t get this woman to leave me alone since she’s been here, she wants me at her side all the time and on top of that beacuse she’s even here, I haven’t seen or heard from my own girlfriend in days because it’s kept her so busy. And now I have to spend an entire week with her away from my girl, because she couldn’t just pick any other man in this building.”

Almost taken back, Sam let Jons anger steam until he stood up ready to leave, a defeated look coming more back into his wider eyes now as his breathing returned to normal. Your name passed from his lips, only straining Jons heart more. “You didn’t ask for this, I’m sure she’ll understand.”

Morose was the only thing Sam would be able to ascribe to Jons tone. “She’ll understand, just not in the way I want her to.” Before any other words could be shared, Jon adjusted the hold on his jacket before passing Sam with a tap on the arm. “I’ll be back in a few hours. I need to grab Longclaw and go pack.”

Not that Jon had known it, but it wasn’t much later when the Targaryean in question had arrived. Sam had an advantage, he was always looked over as the fat one and thus some people in power tended to underestimate him. In the dining hall, Sam had been leaving to drop something off to Pyp when he heard Jons name. Looking up subtly, he saw the Targaryean speaking to her assistant. Their appearances vastly different, her silver hair and pale skin with dark clothes contrasted to the other womans appearance entirely. “And you’re sure?”

The other woman nodded. “I am. He has reported that they live in the same home on the Stark property.”

The silver haired Targaryean nodded with a frustrated grimace. “So we won’t be getting anyone in there anytime soon, I imagine. That should be fine for right now. What was it Daario said, that I have a temping way with men?” Both woman laughed almost as if simply sharing gossip. “You watch, my friend. A week with me and maybe I will find out if wolves are as hot blooded as they say.” The other woman asked about you, making Sam feel that much more alert and urgent. “Grey Worm assured me they will be able to keep her busy. That’s one less part of the country to win over if I can take the Starks right out of her hands. You know how these people work, if I can get even one public kiss then that will sway the masses easily.”

The other woman seemed to begun to look not as if she agreed. “I presumed this was about your interest in him alone?”

“I am far more interested in keeping him away from her for the time being then I am anything else. Any other pleasures which may come as a result of the week with him are simply a bonus.” Not even the Targaryeans assistant looked comfortable, but no doubt held back that thought whatsoever.

By then, if they thought Sam was listening they would’ve said something, but they didn’t. He walked right by as the Targaryean gave him no mind. Getting to his desk almost in a rush, Sam looked through his phone only to find that he had no one in his contacts which were of use. Jon wouldn’t pick up before coming back here he knew, but he needed someone to know. Writing a note, Sam looked to Jons desk next to him.

Ruffling through his drawers, Sam could have almost laughed at what he found were he not in a bit of a rush. All well put together, save for his top drawer, with a variety of printed out photos all placed specifically to be seen. Many of he and his siblings and father at various points in their lives all together, one Sam could only guess was from the day Jon first got Ghost, newer ones clearly out far north with the free folk, but two sat right on the top. Ones which Jon would’ve seen each time should he open the drawer.

Both were photos of you and him. The first was before anything happened between you. Sam remembered the story when Jon told it to him one day. Your nameday was coming up and all of your family was going to be in Kings Landing for an event and they had forgotten that you had tried to make plans to have a dinner together with them to celebrate for once. You told Jon about it, he noted almost in passing, and so Jon had gone out of his way.

Calling your work as you hadn’t yet begun working from home, to tell them he needed them to give you at least 4 days off. Managing to talk your superiors way into delegating it a paid leave so it didn’t cut into your actual vacation or sick days. He had brought you out to part of the wolfswood which had cliffs and trails and lakes and rivers for days on end where you’d encounter no one else. A small camping trip just you, Jon, and Ghost. Jon had clearly set his camera up to take the photo automatically. The evening sky against a lake was in the background as you both sat in front of a fire. Ghost lay across your legs, but you sat right back against Jons chest. Your arms hidden by the large sleeves of your sweater, but Jons were wrapped around your front. Both of you in the middle of laughing. And that was before you got together.

The other Sam recognized, it was much like Jons lock screen but from a different time in the photos automatically taken. This one showed Jon hovering over you much more intimately, one hand in your hair behind your head, the other wrapped around your back pulling you up into him. Your hands grasping at his shoulders, but Jon had you firmly trapped against him in what was clearly a passionate kiss. Nothing about it was inappropriate, but to Jon, clearly it felt a photo that was very intimate. He had delegated that drawer to only very important things and rarely did Sam see Jon put things in it, but that was why.

His brothers and sisters, his father, his friends, and you. The most important things and Sam suddenly looked back at where he had known the Targaryean was even if he couldn’t see her. Clearly she knew you in some way, and wanted to take Jon from you. Sam had no doubt Jon would never do anything, but it sounded as if she would try to make something happen between them and he did not know what lengths she may go to to achieve that. So far, she seemed entirely untrustworthy. So as Sam left the note just sticking out enough from that drawer Jons keen eyes would notice it, did Sam too turn his computer on.

He had a lot to write out to Gilly and no patience to type it all on a phone. But if this Targaryean wanted eyes on her and Jon, she too seemed to imply she had eyes watching you. Which means he would need to have someone far less known and far more inconspicuous to help.

Sam could only wonder though, how did you two know each other to the degree she seemed to be planning to seduce your boyfriend into her bed as if to get back at you for something.

It was the worst possible timing. Jon barley managing to pack the basics for a week, distracted the whole time since no one was home when he got back. Writing out a message for Robb, he had put it on the kitchen counter with his bag now sitting on top of the table, with a plan to call you pretty much until he got back to Castle Black to tell you. He didn’t know how he missed it, but it almost startled his heart from his chest when he heard it behind him.

“What’s this?”

Turning around with wide eyes, Jon felt horrible. Not now, he thought. Don’t make him rush out of the door right now for this. Your hands were perched against the empty door frame looking between he and the bag with eyes he could only describe as close to breaking. You looked so exhausted and instantly Jon realized why, you had been sleeping at your desk, only passing out in the middle of working when you couldn’t keep your eyes open. But you either had a small bit today to come home, or Jon hadn’t even realized you were still here when he left, and you just had to be wearing that shirt. His Nights Watch shirt that you looked so beautiful in.

But clearing his throat, Jon felt such guilt in doing this now. “Mormont assigned me a job that will take me away for a week.” Asking if it was north, he felt so much worse. “No, it uh..Daenerys Targaryean has been visiting the Wall..” You didn’t have any change in reaction and Jon knew that was a withholding of dread in your heart. “And she requested me specifically to...accompany her in her tour of the different stations for the week.”

All you said, was a quiet little, “Oh.”

Jon truly hated this, he hadn’t seen you in days but he had to leave now, he was late as it was. “Darling-”

Your interruption was heartbreaking, “No, no. Your duty is important, Jon. I shouldn’t keep you.” Jon knew you wanted him to think you meant keep him waiting, but he had a horrible feeling you really meant something else. Calling your name gently Jon just managed to grasp at your waist to turn you to him.

Looking down at you, he grappled with what time he had. Not enough. “He sprung it on me only this morning. Once I’m back I’ll have a fortnight off though. To make it up to you.”

He knew what this was, and why you said it this way but he was desperate for you to not do this. “There isn’t anything you’d need to make up for with me. I’d never keep you from doing what you want.” Oh he really felt ill, whatever you were thinking was going to happen, he more firmly asked you if you thought he’d do anything like that but your answer was so horrible he felt his heart cracking into pieces. “The last thing I want is for you to feel chained to me.” Pulling away from him, Jon tried and failed to get you to come back close. “Dany is rich and beautiful, you’ll have fun spending time with her. Lost of men always did. I’ve kept enough of your time.”

Jon tried grabbing you and calling your name. Following your retreating figure you closed the door before he could get to you. Mouth slightly agape, Jon felt something truly sickening. Twisting his stomach and rising up to burn away at his heart and lungs. He was going away for a week on a miserable work job, but something about your reaction looked like you knew something he didn’t.

Muttering your name, Jon was alright if you didn’t respond. He just wanted you to hear him. “I love you. I know it’s too soon but..I just need you to know that.” If Jon listened any more closely, he felt a sting behind his eyes at the realization that you hadn’t moved from the door. You likely had your back against it, having slid down to the floor and all Jon could hear was the possibility of you hiding your head in your arms as if trying to smother the want to cry.

Forced to walk out to his car without even having you in his arms for even a moment, Jon sat in the front seat for a moment. Jaw clenched and the sting in his eyes mixing with anger. Every gods forsaken boyfriend you’ve ever had treated you so horribly that just the idea of Jon spending a week with someone like Daenerys Targaryean had you convinced you’d lose him. And worse you didn’t even act like you’d blame him for it.

He was glad no one was around to see the way he threw something harsh into part of the inside of his car in anger. Realizing why this felt so sickening in his heart. You weren’t treating this like something may happen on his work trip away. You were treating this, as if once Jon comes home, he’d be done with you without question.

You were treating this like it was already a breakup.

The constant buzzing around the building was tedious at the best of times. It had been years and years since you worked anywhere near here but you had been thrown right back into it as if you hadn’t purposely left this job. But you were part of the family, and thus you were given no choice. Though in a truth, you knew there were reasons you were more on edge here then usual. You simply had not gone home in many nights. The small couch in what was designated your office again, had housed you as each late night gave you no incentive to wish to go home.

For most of the week you had gone home, Robb had both been a blessing and a companion in misery. He suddenly had his job and his fathers all on his plate as Ned was working directly with Robert. For the first while, Robb had taken up taking you to and from work. Shutting you down when you insisted he not go out of his way, but you knew Robb could see the exhaustion and stress in your eyes clear as day.

At first it was comforting, having someone you’ve known for so much of your life there for you but eventually you stopped wanting it. The closer your father came to telling you he was going to bring you back to Kings Landing the more you started to realize you didn’t know how to say no. So you told Robb you were needed at earlier hours then he’d wake up, and that your father would have a driver bring you home so Robb didn’t have to go out of his way anymore.

And then you stopped going home, and stopped answering Robbs calls and messages. You were going to have to go back alone to Kings Landing soon anyways, you may as well get used to this loneliness now then later. But that wasn’t the only thing keeping you from being home, and you knew Robb had picked up on it too.

Whispers of Daenerys Targaryeans arrival had gotten around and soon followed photos online of interest. She was exactly as you remembered. Her luscious silver hair and immaculate wardrobe, the brightness of her Valyrian beauty something all wanted to catch a glimpse of, but it was never photos of her alone. You recognized what appeared to be a normal entourage of people around her but too was the early talk around her, a so far publically unidentified man close to her side.

The difficulty came though in that you had known you saw pictures like this before. Photos sent to you from a friend whom had seen Ramsay around with a girl named Myranda just like this only to be told by him it was nothing. Yet when you had begun to sleep with him, he revealed the truth that he was seeing her too and you were going to have to either live with it, or step things up to convince him to stay with you alone. You had not been worthy of giving any attention individually, you had not the worth and he was sure to teach you that.

Telling you one night, “Most men won’t stay with you. They’ll find pretty girls just like Myranda and fuck them until they realize the first one they dated just isn’t cutting it anymore.” He had unsettlingly traced his thumb down your cheek, jaw and down your neck with pale blue eyes scouring you with a falsehood you didn’t know how to tell if it was real or not. “I’d recommend listening to what I tell you to do from now on. Afterall, love, you just aren’t good enough to keep a man tied down to you alone. If you didn’t have me, the next man you date would just toss you away one day for a prettier and better version of you.”

You didn’t understand. Jon had told you that Ramsay and even Karl had been using you for sex, and you believed that then and now. All they wanted to do was have sex and never do anything else. Jon and you did plenty of things, but then you sat there, hands hovering over the keyboard unmoving. Jon was also very physical with you, quite so. You had asked him to be sure if all he wanted to do was have sex, and he said he wanted all of it.

Did all of it just mean sexually? Did you make yourself a fool thinking the romance would stay? Were you not giving yourself over physically enough to keep him interested?

The most recent photo was from the night before. Spotted at a small restaurant in the Gift, clearly much of the area had been closed off for her and thus photo were taken out of interest. A beautiful dress on her that you couldn’t afford in many lifetimes with hair which must have taken hours. Of course she looked better then you ever would, you sat at your desk with messy hair thrown back into a braid and dark circles under your eyes.

Naturally some did not question the circumstances, he was her guide here as his duty of course he would be polite and respectable about her wishes, but you looked at the photo again and again. The way she looked quite naturally close and cozy attached to his arm. There was not a world in which you would understand why Jon would have anything but a good time. She was so much more glamorous, rich, and powerful at his side.

You normally worked a calmer job from home, and had far too much baggage for him then he deserved. What made it worse, was a message which appeared on screen from Gendry. That very photo with the message only containing a rather angry ask of what was he looking at, only with a few more expletives thrown in for colour. Good, you thought sarcastically. Other people were about to start seeing it.

Hardly any outside of the Starks or Jons circles even knew about he and you yet. The first woman of meaning they’d see by his side was her. You looked horrid in comparison. People would look down on Jon for going from her to you.

Another message from Gendry, then one from Arya. By the time you got the same photo and kind of message from Loras of all people did you turn your computer off. Elbows propped on the table and hanging your head into your hands with a deep sigh. Any other women would be angry, mad, offended, but you should’ve simply seen this coming. You gave Jon what he wanted, and expected too much in return. That wasn’t his fault, that was simply yours.

As you ascended the steps to the main door, you could only contemplate how you even got here. It felt like a blur, as if only moments ago did you turn the computer at your desk off. But walking in, it had yet to get busy. An open seat right by the corner of the bar, you sat down. Barley registering what you had ordered, only that it was as bitter going down as you needed. You didn’t even bother pulling your phone out to entertain yourself.

What were you going to do? Avoid worried messages from Robb telling you to either come home already or call him? Wait to see what other photos would arise? Jon looked cordial in them but how long until he looked like he was having fun, how long until he was giving Dany the looks you wished for so long he would give you? How long until he sent you a message telling you that this was not going to work anymore?

Men always boasted that she was good in bed, and she was always good at tempting men she wanted into her bed in return. At least someone would give him a pleasurable time other then him always having to take the reins with you. You knew nothing compared to what she did, why would he want to stay with that after she could show him how much better being with her felt?

You’d ask worried how long until that happened, but then you felt that dark wave of fear that maybe it already did. Within an instant, you downed the ale before ordering another. It was straight forward with Karl and Ramsay. They told you what to do, what they wanted or expected and would just take it when you didn’t get the message. You never knew what Jon wanted, and clearly guessing had not worked out.

Ramsay was upfront for most of your relationship that he would fuck other women. If that’s what Jon wanted to do, you wished he would be honest and tell you. You’d understand. He was a man, he had needs and you weren’t talented or good or pretty enough to fulfill them. This is why you never wanted Jon to know about how you felt. You knew you weren’t good enough, that you would ruin the friendship you both already had.

How much had you drunk at that point? You need not stand up yet and find out.

Jon had yet to have a single moment to himself from the very instant he opened his eyes. She needed this or that, ordered one thing or another from him or simply would change her mind and have him escort her somewhere. She was, for all intents and purposes, his boss currently. Or at least, she was certainly ordering him around like she was. He apparently had no choice here as much as he couldn’t refuse an order from Lord Commander Mormont if she had anything to say about him telling her no.

She had wanted to go to a specific restaurant, and as utterly uncomfortable as Jon felt, when she asked him to sit and join he had refused initially. Only to have a more narrow eyed look with a smile that felt judging with a tone filled with less room for interpretation. “It is bad manners to refuse a ladies offer.” The stare off lasted around five long and painful seconds before he begrudgingly sat down. Nearly refusing any offer of food for drink at her expense, stating he was fine while picking at whatever too upscale appetizer she ordered for him.

The only easier moments were with the waitress, a young girl, likely around Aryas age in over her head at the degree of upscale done for the Targaryean. She would take her orders with a nervousness but seemed at least to relax at Jons ease with her. Ensuring as long as she came around often enough to refill his water, she had nothing to worry about with him. Daenerys had her team pay by cheque.

Jon had caught the young waitress his way out, giving her a gold coin specifically for her good job. It was the only real smile anyone had given him in days as she thanked him.

Now though? Jon could hear voices muffled outside his door even through the noise and walls with his keen hearing. Soon enough his only chance at quiet would be interrupted, but Jon was begging for it to wait until he could finish showering. Or, at least finish his illusion of showering. Towel long since around his waist as he let the hot water keep running to steam the bulk of the room, Jon leaned against the counter picking up his phone.

If he had one fundamental flaw, it was he had no idea how to handle issues like this in most forms not in person. Not even over the phone was ideal, but you didn’t answer his call. Not that he blamed you. Photos begun going around online and it was painting Jon out to look like he of all people was treading into the path of being unfaithful. But Jon didn’t know how to text you about it either, he knew he didn’t come off well in text.

A few more days, thats all he told himself. He would be back with you in a few more days and he would fix everything then. A knock at the main door had him rising his head up, but Jon made no move to go answer it. It was late, he wanted time to himself, she would survive without his company. He didn’t even understand why she wanted to spend time with him, he barley spoke to her if she didn’t require an answer.

Swiping through his photo gallery, one then the next, then the next. You hated having your photo taken but always managed to be talked into letting him at any point. Jon could admit to himself with a ghost of a smile painting across his face that he took his best photos when he’d set his camera up to take them automatically as he kissed you. The one he had looked at in the moment, he had sat his phone against something as if moving it out of the way before coming up and wrapping his arms around your front, his own lips finding your neck as you leaned into his touch.

So many with you Jon could look at until he passed out, he missed you terribly, and he hated that he had to leave while you were still clearly so upset. Every night when he fell asleep in a bed not his, he too felt angry that you weren’t curled up in his chest. Jon was practically spoiled with how often you slept in his bed, hell Jon felt alone without the inevitable feeling of Ghost hopping up onto the end of the bed and curling up around both of your feet.

Only finding it in him just then to contemplate turning the water off and attempting to call you one more time before passing out, did he get an email. From Gilly of all people. Opening one, the subject line left empty did she send him photos of articles.

Another email, more photos of articles and names he somewhat recognized. Another email with more personal photos as if scanned from a book online. But it was the last one that had Jon swiftly turning the water off with eyes narrowed. Face tensed as he looked at the final article photos she sent him.

If any noticed, they said nothing. The falsehood in the smile Daenerys was giving him and the stiff attempt at remaining neutral in Jon the next morning. “We had wondered what happened to you last night. You didn’t answer your door.”

Hardly looking as Jon stood somewhat in front of them all fiddling with his own credentials, they had finally arrived last night in time for her tour of the Shadow Tower and he wanted to get her in there and distracted as quickly as possible. Mumbling out, “I fell asleep after I had a shower. Must not have heard you.”

Not making any eye contact, Jon gestured with a nod for them all to simply follow him. By the time they arrived, with merely one look at him did Jon know that his demeanour was even more off put then it normally was. Most were trying to be polite, but with the wave over for him to come up to speak to him, Jon simply directed them to follow Dareon as he swiftly made his way up the stairs. That time he felt her eyes watching him, but he didn’t care as he shut the door behind him.

Rummaging through the cabinet behind his desk before turning did Qhorin Halfhand let out a far more natural tone then he greeted the party with. “One bloody foreign politician shows up and suddenly we’re expected to bend over backwards to kiss her ass.” Letting the glasses thud against his desk, he didn’t even need to ask Jon to sit while he begun pouring the amber liquid Jon hoped was strong. “Whose idea was this anyways?”

Grabbing his with a thankful nod, Jon muttered with a frustration. “Mormont. His son is her advisor, Jorah. I think he’s trying to use it as a way to make amends but he’s just thrown me into the fire this time.” A laugh came out that Jon understood but didn’t quite appreciate as he just took another far larger sip, holding back the wince as it burned down his throat.

“She looks like she fancies you.” Jon only grunted from within his chest, his eyes dark and expression twisting into something akin to a frown. “Too bad for her, she’s in the North. Most men I know born and raised up here aren’t quite into whatever they have going on.” If Jon had the capacity to laugh he would’ve. That certainly was true. Those of the North were never normally looked at as the attractive culture of the country and if any were as far from what they were like or looked like it was the Targaryean. By the time the Halfhand found his word again, Jon knew he had to tackle this now while he had someone alone who could help. “You’re trapped with her for a week? Doesn’t Mormont know you have a girl?”

“I don’t know, but she does.” Looking at him in question, he leaned forward with his arms on the desk in curiosity as Jon elaborated with your name on his lips. “She was going to school in Kings Landing, and went over to Essos for a few months for some special program. Apparently they paired students up with people to live with over there that should match in lifestyle.” The Halfhand putting together the indications that you had been moved in with Daenerys Targaryean.

Jon recalled when he got back, Sam leaving a note that said to stay distant from her until certain information was found. Which he had no idea what that had meant until then night prior. How Gilly found all of this, he had no idea as he continued. “Her brother Viserys lived there too.” Once again your name coming out, albeit with far more of a strain the man before him could sense was rather protective. “He took an interest in her, wouldn’t leave her alone. Was at her side day and night always trying to get close as possible to the point some people thought they were together.”

Recalling the report filed with both local officials and schooling records, he suspected that Gilly may or may not have gotten access to things she normally shouldn’t have, but Jon told himself to remember to thank her for it. For finding something you had never told him about, but now more then ever seemed to be needed. According to your written and spoken statements, Viserys had convinced you on a night you felt homesick out to a club. You hadn’t drunk much but you do remember that one of which he had ordered from the bar for you and brought your way, all without you seeing.

Medical reports attached showed traces of Shade of the Evening in your system. You had said you did not take anything like that, but refused to point the finger at Viserys because if you were wrong you thought it would be a horrible accusation. The official you spoke to had pointed out what they already had on record of what he had done as to try and convince you of a truth you still refused to accept. Feeling not right, you had found yourself dragged to a more secluded hallway where Viserys has tried to-

Jon had cut himself off on that one as the Halfhand filled in those details. Saying your name, “What’s all this now then have to do with her? Miss Silver Hair out there not like that a girl reported her brother for being a raper?” Jon heavily swallowed down any thoughts about that, it didn’t go that far he knew, but dare he tread into what else he had learned of your time with men since.

Rasping out after taking a final sip, before handing the glass over to the Halfhand waving for him to get it refilled for his own sake. “He never got charged for anything. He and his sister were rich and they got him dropped of charges.” Directing back to you, “When she was put on a ship back home, apparently someone had let it out that Daenerys helped to hide what he did, and they kicked her out school for it. And apparently she blames her for it still.”

“So now she’s trying to steal you to get back at her.” Nodding begrudgingly, Jon hated that in your eyes, that plan was working. He felt ill thinking what you could be worrying he had done already, or what he would have to do to prove he never would betray you like that. “Well, she’s here for two days then you have barley any more alone with her to get back to Castle Black. Suppose in her mind that’s plenty of time to charm you. What did your girl have to say about all this?”

The dark frown growing on Jon was immense. “She’s been busy with her Uncle’s campaign against Daenerys, and even beyond that I think she’s afraid to pick up my calls.” Asking why, Jon answered with a heavy weight in his throat. “In case she does, and I’m only calling to break up with her.” Almost in an instant Jon nearly downed the second refill in one large go. “She was dating this abusive-” He cut himself off before he let that anger get him too carried away. “And a little before him she had been dating Karl Tanner.”

The looks shared between men spoke volumes. “Tough girl you’ve got. Making her way out of that mans life and then another? That isn’t easy.” It was easier to see where Jons struggle was coming from, and why from here he felt trapped from being able to do anything. “Sounds like you need someone to go talk her into her senses. Who from up here does she know?”

One plan set, and the next came in the form of Jons only last question. “What do I do in the meantime?

“Your job. Nothing more, nothing less. Get her out of our gods forsaken hair, and yours for that matter. As long as you don’t trip and fall naked into her bed, I don’t see what you’ve got to worry about.” A more firm voice coming out, catching his eyes. “Snow. Stop worrying. We’re brothers, all of us. You’ve had our backs more times then I can count, we can have yours this once.”

Though, being brothers meant they did not go without getting on each others nerves. “One more question, Snow.” Turning with his hand still braced on the doorknob, Jon could already sense the irritation based on the jesting brightness in the Halfhands face. “How long’s it been since you and your girl have fucked? Haven’t seen you this wound up since your first year here.”

Jon almost didn’t answer, with a more flat glare though he grumbled out, “Too long.” Which was the real answer of almost a fortnight. Considering though, a fortnight passed into Jons relationship with you he had fucked you nearing twice a day, this was starting to feel like a true torture. A torture made worse everytime he noticed her staring at him, now realizing that he was just a pawn to get back at you.

He didn’t want her to want him in the first place, but now he was angry. Using him to break your heart all for something her own brother tried to do to you in the first place. He’d only ever met one, but already he hated that family to his core.

You didn’t pick up when Jon tried calling you then already, or that night, but he had to trust the Halfhand to help with you. He just didn’t realize by the time the one sent to talk to you was going to find you at a bar in that state. Each night he reminded himself how long. But before he had reached his hotel bed the night before beginning the days long journey back to Castle Black, did he get a call from Robb, pretty unbelievably angry with him.

Leading up to that call though, one would have to go all the way back to the bar you sat in hours before. The low rumbling voice coming to your side held a laugh that nearly caught you off guard, as did his size. “How’s someone your size stay conscious with that much in you?” Nudging at your arm as he took a seat did you meaninglessly try to swat at him back.

Little thought came out of your mouth as you didn’t even bother to greet him. “What are you doing here, Tormund?”

Ordering something for himself, he shrugged which hardly passed your notice. Eyes presently trained on the wood of the bar. “Thought I’d come out. Have a drink with a beautiful woman.”

Eyes rolling somewhat to the side did you mumble, “I repeat. What are you doing here then?” That time the nudge was much more noticeable then before. Only saying he was here to check on you, your eyes narrowing as you whipped your head to the side to look at him suspiciously, not quite aware it was coming off more adorable then intimidating. “I left work not telling anyone where I was going. How did you know to find me here?”

The answer gave your insides a little bit of a sobering jolt in sorrow. “Jon mentioned he and you used to come here all the time. Seemed an easy guess.” That time you on a true spree of questions asked why he was looking for you and the answer was just as unpleasantly whirling in your stomach. “Got a call from that half handed cunt at the Shadow Tower, said Snow’s pretty on edge that you haven’t spoken to him in over a week.”

Your hands twitched as if to go grab your phone, forcing it to remain in your bag. For now. “I don’t know what to say to him.” Asking almost incredulously that meant you chose to just ignore him, you felt a tinge of annoyance creeping through the anxiety. “We can talk about if he wants me to stay or not when he comes back, I don’t want to have that conversation over the phone.”

Grumbling out, were you not drunk you may have picked up the amusement instead of judgment you interpreted it as. “You think he wants to get rid of you?”

“It isn’t a matter of getting rid of me or not. If he’s bored of me, that isn’t his fault.”

Tormund was quiet for more then a good few seconds. Still difficult to pick up his tone, but you also didn’t even notice his freedom to reach inside your bag and grab your phone as he spoke. “As long as I’ve known him, he’s been stupid in love with you. Watched you date shit bag after shit bag and refusing to make a damned move whenever I told him to. Something about not wanting to take advantage of you when you were vulnerable.” Turning a little, you at least could see the partial sight of his wild orange hair in the low bar light. “Now I knew Karl Tanner, means I know the kind of shit he’d have put you through. Your crow doesn’t even know the half of it does he?”

Slowly you shook your head as a heat begun forming behind your face in a rather unwelcome way.

“If you told him the truth about that, he’d run day and night to come back right now-” Cutting him off you told him that wasn’t the only thing you weren’t honest about. “Alright, fess up.” Telling him a rather drunk version of the events, Tormund whistled out by the end of it. “You have a great habit of trying to surround yourself with the worst shits I’ve ever known.”

Continuing on, you hardly noticed his jest. “As soon as he told me who he was going to be with, I just knew what would happen. I knew Dany. She’s beautiful, rich, charming every single man I met in Pentos adored her. There wasn’t anyone who she couldn’t get into her bed and I always knew why. She was everything men dream of having all in one woman. She’d be perfect for him. She looks perfect at his side. And I know she’d figure out Jon was with me, and she knows she’s better for him then I ever could be. Wouldn’t be surprised if he’s in her bed right now. Doesn’t take most men this long.”

Unbeknownst to you it was rather ill feeling to other people at how little blame you placed on Jon in this imagined scenario. You’d refute every ounce of guilt he could be accused of beacuse of men like Ramsay and Karl. In your eyes, you were unattractive and broken, Dany was beautiful and perfect. Jon probably took one look at her and gave her those wide and bright eyes you for so long wished could be directed towards you just once.

“Then why is all he can talk about when you’re not there, you?” Brows furrowing you shrugged while turning more away, curling a bit in on yourself. “Ever since you two got together, all he can focus on is you. If he’s not with you, he’s talking about you. If he’s not talking about you, he’s obsessing over you. And if he’s not doing any of that, then he’s probably busy getting off thinking about you. Hates talking about you with other men in any way. If this girl is what he wants, then why in seven hells is he so obsessed with you every second of the day?”

If you were entirely truthful, you had always thought Jon was exaggerating when he said he told his friends a lot about you. You assumed when he wasn’t with you, you were barley in his head. That’s what Ramsay and Karl were like, it was what you were used to. “Before he left, through the door he told me he loved me.” Tormund gave you the silent space to think. “He’s never said that before. We’ve never said it before. But he told me before he left and I didn’t say it back. I hadn’t seen him in days, I didn’t understand why he’d tell me when he was leaving for even more.”

More quiet then usual he asked, “A man ever tell you that before?” Shaking your head no, you refused to acknowledge the sting behind your eyes. “You are a mess if I’ve ever seen one before.”

Muttering with a bit more amusement peeking through, “You know all the proper words to flatter a girl, don’t you?” That time you nudged his side back as much as he did you. The thoughts simmering in your head for a little while until they came out calm. “I don’t know how to do this. Normal relationships, let alone when the one I’m with is my best friend. I’ve never been in one that wasn’t so horrible, I don’t know how I’m supposed to act with Jon if he doesn’t tell me.”

“And he’s not going to know how to talk that out with you, if you keep your damned mouth shut about every problem in your pretty little head. He comes back in what? In a day or two? Just wait until he comes back before trying to push him away all over again. Let him choose to do that this time, you’ve had your fun.” He was being hyperbolic at the words of fun, but you understood his position. “Now,” Slamming your phone onto the table between you both, “Who the fuck can you call at this hour to pick you up?”

By the time you were outside, the cool night air was somewhat comforting in your lungs. Leaning against the much larger Tormund for support you felt the need to fall asleep coming. Eyes jolting open each time they were tempted too. At the sight of headlights, you felt a relief as if he wouldn’t have come. You had figured by now your attitude would’ve driven Robb from wanting to put up with you, but it wasn’t the case.

The concerned and gentle way he handled you was more comforting then you had thought it would be, that at least he hadn’t written you off entirely just yet.

Whatever it was that was said between Tormund and Robb you didn’t really know, almost falling asleep Robb had just picked you up by then. “Last thing you need on top of everything is a concussion” All you remembered was by the time Robb sat you carefully in the passenger seat did you drift off to sleep.

Robb carried you into the house, gently resting you down on the couch on your side. Grabbing a fur to cover you wish as Ghost came scurrying out of Jons room over to your side. “Come on now, give her space.” Whining, the direwolf rested his head on the couch looking at you as Greywind came up to nudge Ghost as if comforting him.

Debating what he wanted to do, stay here and make sure you didn’t throw up in your sleep or finally say a word or two to more then one persons. Telling Ghost and Greywind to come get him if anything happened, Robb went outside. First thing was first, then Robb called his brother and it likely was the first time in along time he chewed him out for something with an actual anger.

On the other side, Jon stood almost taken back in the middle of his hotel room that Robb had called him in the near middle of the night to yell at him without even so much as a greeting. “Sometimes I have no idea what runs through your head.” Trying to ask what he was even talking about, Robb only cut him off not even before reaching the end of the sentence bringing up your name. “Everything she’s been through the last few months, no the last year and you start pulling this sort of thing? What is wrong with you?”

Face twisting into his own taken back offence, Jons tone dropped beginning to match in the frustration. “Do you want to be more specific?”

But it was you again, of course if was you. Jon felt haunted by your lack of presence. “After Tanner, after Ramsay we all waited to see if you’d actually do anything finally. You made a move and we were all proud until you pulled all of this. She’s never even been in a relationship with someone that wasn’t a piece of shit and the second things got even the slightest bit difficult, you took off for a whole week.”

Blood rising in intensity in his veins Jon felt his muscles tensing with nothing to let it out on showing in the sharp edge to his shortness. “I didn’t ask for this, Robb. I was assigned to it, I had no choice-”

Not having a second of it, Robb was far firmer then Jon was growing angry. “You did. If you said no, did you really think Mormont of all people would what? Discharge you? Demote you? Of all people? No, things with her got tough, you didn’t know what to do to fix it, so you ran. And worse, you ran off to the side of the very woman making her life hell in the first place. How do you think seeing photos of her with you day in and out is making her feel?” Almost in a stunned sense for a moment, it gave Robb room to continue. “I had to pick her up from a bar tonight, did you know that? She was so drunk she couldn’t even stand on her own, she passed out the moment I got her into the car.”

On Jons end, suddenly an ill, blackening poison grew from within his stomach at the thought. He had assumed you wouldn’t have spiralled this hard, and Robb was clearly irate at the fact as he had to watch the rest of it. “Is she-”

“She’s asleep right now. I called father, told him he needs to put his foot down to Robert about dragging her back into all of this, because either shes drowning in work she hates or drowning in her thoughts all alone. There’s no excuse this time. When you come home you fix this, you’re not the only one who cares this much about her.” It was Robbs next words though that hit Jon somewhere deep in a much more slashing strike. “But I’m not the one who ran away from my struggling, traumatized girlfriend the second things got difficult. I’m picking up the pieces you’re causing. Daenerys Targaryean isn’t your girlfriend and she isn’t your boss. Set some fucking boundaries, Snow.”

Hardly a few words Jon got in before Robb hung up. It had been a long time since the two brothers ever argued like that, and he didn’t quite know how to feel right away. Yet the more he thought about it, the more Jon realized he was right. Jon hadn’t tried to fix things. He’s argued against the Lord Commanders orders more then that before on less, he should’ve learned letting either of you walk out the door without talking a problem out only made it worse. And knowing what he knew now, Jon knew he did wrong by not being far more firm towards Daenerys about him not being interested.

Even if she was doing this to get back at you, Jon should’ve known better then to let it even vaguely fall into place. The first time you struggled more then usual in the month and a half since he had started to be with you, and he took off for a week without speaking to you on it for more then a few minutes.

Some good example he was setting for this relationship, Jon knew.

No doubt she had not been expecting whom was at the door at this hour, but perhaps she should have read the room before giving this reaction. The middle of the night, Daenerys in her sleeping clothes and yet he was fully dressed as if the sun was out but she somehow misread this in a way that only made him angry. “What a pleasant surprise, you coming by so late to see me. Please, come in, I insist.”

Trying to pull the door more open for him, Jon let a gloved hand reach out and grasp a higher edge of the door stopping her in her tracks with eyes growing more frustrated within them. “I’m not here for a chat.” If Jon were a worse man, he might have snapped at her for the audacity to give him almost a leering look up and down. Starting to form something or another with a much more intentional tone of voice, Jon hissed out. “I don’t know what gave you the idea I’m interested in you, but I’m done.”

Head jolting back, the act dropped within an instant. “What do you mean done?”

Pulling something in front of him previous tucked away, a freshly printed out receipt and details for a driver and arrival time. Asking what this was, Jon pulled his hand back from the door finally. “A driver bought and paid for to take you to wherever you need to go from here, but I’m finished. Whatever you thought this was, you’re wrong. I’ve been taking you around beacuse I was told to, because it was my duty, but nowhere does it say I’m to stand here and let you try and push my girlfriend out of my life beacuse of something that happened years ago.”

Eyes wide and if he was not mistaken, just a tint of an unsettling rage hid too beyond her controlled words. “I don’t know what it is you’re accusing me of-”

“We both know exactly what I’m accusing you of.” Your name falling from his mouth as a twitch in her eye gave it away. “I’m sorry for what happened to your brother, but what he did to her was wrong, and you got caught covering up for him. None of that is her fault. And you come back trying to take her families livelihood away and on top of that, try to take her partner away from her too just because you can’t let go from something that happened when you were both still teenagers. Move on, Daenerys. This isn’t healthy.”

Stepping out the door only a bit as Jon turned, raising her voice. “So that is it? You walk away now after telling me off for things that are not your concern?”

If she expected it, she didn’t seem to show it in how quickly she leaned away from him. Stepping close to her personal space, Jon all but growled in his voice with dark eyes looking down at her with your name. “Everything that concerns her, is my concern.” Moving away only a little, Jon feigned as much respect as he could but still let such impulsive feelings slip out. “I’d wish you luck on your campaign, but we both know I wouldn’t mean it. Consider this you losing the support of the North.”

He knew she watched him the entire way down to his car, throwing his bag in the back seat and not waiting another second in the lot before pulling out and down the road. Glancing down to his phone Jon considered stopping to send you a message in case he didn’t make it back in time, but Jon knew the route from the Shadow Tower back to Winterfell. And how quickly he could get there in the empty middle of the night traffic, perhaps not following the speed limits as much as he should’ve.

But he had somewhere else to be, and someone to get to. She tried to use him for her spite but Jon had still alone be responsible for leaving you for a week in such a vulnerable position. And that was no ones fault but his.

The last you recalled was seeing Robb show up to pick you up from the bar, and yet you had no idea how you got to where you awoke. The sun blurred from your eyes as dark curtains were pulled across the window, early enough you presumed that it had only just peeked over the darkness. For a moment you felt confused as to where you were instead of how, a warm figure behind you keeping you pulled back into their front with a hand more loose against your waist as if a tighter grip had been there when the owner of it was awake.

For a moment you had a thought still marred by the alcohol in your system of what was possibly realistic, wondering if you had done something horrible and ended up in Robbs bed, only to come to your senses. Even if somehow being drunk turned you into a woman suddenly with no morals of commitment towards a partner, it wasn’t as if Robb of all people would take advantage of that. But the warmth, the familiarity, and only when you registered the feeling of longer curls against your skin where he lay behind you did you realize you were in Jons room, with him.

Frozen for a moment, you once again worried you did something wrong, but your heart refused to let it grow that time. At the very least, you could recall words in your head Tormund had spoke of the night before and thought to yourself in such a wakening state, perhaps you should trust him for now. Stop acting so scared right off the bat, give Jon the chance Tormund was insisting on. But for you, you couldn’t just lay back in his arms yet. Not when you hadn’t even spoken.

Inch by inch did you slip from his grasp, and a miracle was granted to you as Ghost did not wake up from his bed either. The moment before you slipped out the door, you turned back to look. He must have come right from wherever he was last. Still in his Nights Watch attire as you were your clothes from last night, sans your boots no doubt. Jons strictness about any shoes on his bed of course.

Curls wild and even a hint of stress in what normally was his most peaceful time, maybe he didn’t have the week you were trying to convince yourself he had. Really, he looked no better then you felt. But you had your routine. Showers normally saved for night, you needed one this early if only to wash the grime off your skin from the bar. Standing before the mirror after, there wasn’t even much there. An indicator neither of you had been home in days.

Teeth brushed and mouthwash, ridding any access of what was whatever you drank in access of last night, for the most part the next little while as you felt a little more calm trying to do your hair alone, the stubborn thought in your head that it was so much easier when Jon would happily stand behind you and help with the bulk of it for you.

Creeping into your room, intentions on finally choosing something fresh to wear before looking down to notice someone had even plugged your phone in for you, but atop your dresser sat clothes chosen out that you know you didn’t pick. You recognized the writing right away, and while you didn’t know yet what it meant, it seemed Robb thought it spoke for itself.

“You’re not going into work. Dress comfortably for once. That’s an order.”

A smile was easy after that. Part of you wanted to feel bad, wanted to think of a way to make it up to Robb but you could predict that outcome. A lecture all of your own to stop trying to owe people back things they do out of kindness alone. Robb was not a man afraid of getting rough, and would all but drag you out of the kitchen by just picking you up and placing you out in the main room whenever you tried to take over either his or Theons night to cook when you thought they could use a break.

Stepping out into the main hall, Jons door was wide open as you could hear the sounds of both Ghost and Grey Wind pattering about. Inhaling deeply, your eyes fluttering closed for only that moment as you told yourself to just be a big girl and talk to him. Though maybe that would be less intimidating if the last interaction between you, was not you being too upset to respond to him trying to tell you he loves you.

Coming to the kitchen, you could see what he was doing before he noticed you. Clearly your intoxication had not passed him by, recognizing the ingredients sitting out as he prepared them. You stood there, internally following his steps as he did each in exact order as usual. After nights all of you would enjoy a good too many drinks, it became habit that Jon woke up first. Always making something easy and helpful for you to get down once you woke up, and then jesting to Robb and Theon when they’d ask what he made them, “Neither of you are girls, you can make your own drink.”

Theon normally joking with a bite if he was being bigoted, only for Jon to grunt out a simple, “Only towards you two.” But the others weren’t anywhere to be seen, it was only you two to deal with your failures towards him with two direwolves to watch.

Jon hadn’t even turned towards you, looking almost too soft in such casual clothes compared to his normal uniform with his voice rasping in as gentle tones as he could saying your name. “Sit down before you get lightheaded.”

He knew you so well even without glancing, knowing with little in your system but remnants of alcohol you likely hadn’t had much else to give you energy. His curls pulled all the way back in a bit more of a messy manner as if simply haphazardly throwing it up to get it out of his way quickly, but you could see his shoulders deflate with tension as he clearly could see from the corner of his vision when you sat down in your normal spot without debate.

Instantly the sounds of Ghost trotting over to you filled the air as a happy whine came out from the direwolf. Your hands running over his head and ears as he rested his head in your lap, not noticing Jons grey eyes bright and shining looking over to you with his wolf so perfectly. A dark feeling only just coming about him, having to swallow roughly and turn back to grabbing the smaller, more quiet hand blender at the thought that Daenerys would have ever thought she could take Jon away from this.

Grey Wind followed suit but with more of his respectable demeanour, nudging you happily beside Ghost but allowing the pure white furred red eye’d goofball to soak up all of the needy attention. Suddenly making a low sound to the other, both direwolves turned back to give you space as Jon had finally turned to indicate to them both to leave be.

Coming up to you, one hand put it down in front of you, the other without any hesitation running gently over the back of your still damp hair as he sat in his seat pulling it a bit closer to you then it normally would sit. Glancing down, you felt almost as spoiled as you did like a child. The right fruits you liked and the one metal straw in the entire kitchen found to put in, always after you once ever so briefly mentioned preferring straws like a child, he had not hesitated to do things as care filled as he always did for you.

Muttering a thank you, your hand reached out to the glass but pulled back slight for a moment, looking over to his soft gaze with a worry. “Jon, I want to a-”

His hand running down your hair more toying with the strands through his fingers, he nodded to the glass with a low rasp. “Don’t worry about that right now. Just drink, let’s get you feeling better first.”

Neither of you spoke for a bit, so far, you didn’t need too. Jon never left toying with your hair, nor even move away anywhere near far enough to lose his warmth. In fact it felt as if he kept getting closer. Prompting you to keep going when you’d pause for too long, both of you knowing he made you just the right amount you would need and not any bit more then that.

The hand in your hair slipped to run across the top of your back as he muttered that he’d handle it when you even twitched to get up to clean it. You stood regardless, looking at his back turned realizing that it wasn’t just unfair to compare Jon to Karl or Ramsay. It was downright insulting. Jon was the only man whose ever looked at you with such a softness or dealt with you with such precise care.

Hands braced against the cool feeling of the fridge, you leaned your side into it not knowing if you would be able to summon the courage to say it all in a calm and thought out manner before he turned around. But as he did, and you hadn’t just as you thought, Jon stepped closer to you anyways.

Not waiting more, a hand coming to rest at your waist while the other traced two knuckles of your neck and cheek, using them to tilt you up to look at him. Taking the reigns himself, his eyes soft but with a sadness that looked like a guilt, but not a scary sort of guilt. One of something far more dipped in trust then that to feel scared by it. “I shouldn’t have just left like I did. That was wrong. You were upset, you needed me, and I took off for a week. And if I was sorry for that, I’m even more sorry that it was with her.” Now running down the hair at the side of your head, your hands tentatively moved to rest along his torso. “I should’ve said no in the first place, and I should’ve stayed long enough to talk it out with you. Because then I’d have known who she is to you, and never would’ve even considered doing it. I would’ve called Mormont then and there and told him to send anyone else, but I didn’t, and I’m so sorry, darling.”

Nodding a little, you looked not yet at this eyes anymore but more distracting yourself purposely down, presently at his collarbones. “I thought you’d do the worst, and that was...horrible of me- no, Jon it was. It’s insulting to even put a piece of you where someone like Ramsay or Karl are like, you’re not and you wouldn’t do what they did and it was horrible of me to push you away for something you didn’t even do.” Hands sliding a bit more comfortably on his chest, Jon finally cupped your cheek, slowly raising his other hand to cup the other. Tilting your forehead to press a kiss before resting against it.

Only you both stood there with nothing more to say for the moment, and truly Jon realized telling you what she tried to do wasn’t worth it. You had enough pain, this wouldn’t even do anything but add to it. You had him, and he had you, that should be enough without bringing her into it anymore then she already tried to be. “If I tell you I love you, are you going to start crying again?”

It wasn’t a mock, but a very tender teasing as he pulled you up to look at him. Your smile small against his brighter one but you shook your head. In a suprise to him, you leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek before returning flat on your own feet. “Is it too late to tell you I love you back?”

Jon didn’t dignify that with a response, pulling you into his kiss without a second thought. Your hands coming up to his shoulders, gently wrapping around the back of his neck. Guiding your lips with his soft ones, Jons kissed you with as much need as it was filled with the amount of times he wished he had told you he loved you prior. Never letting you lead as if to tell you, you need not try to match up to him, that you gave him enough. Deepening it, Jon tilted your head up more to keep you at his mercy, not letting you break away. Always surging forward to keep your lips to his whenever you’d attempt parting for air.

Arching a bit more into his front as he deepened it again, more of a greed this time, a small sound high pitched and needy came from your chest. Both hands dropping to your hips, Jon moved you almost so slow you didn’t notice until your back found the edge of the counter. Holding him tighter, Jon crept into your space, pressing more against your front as his kiss grew rougher and rougher with a greed almost bordering too much to not be noticed as a strong need. One hand still tight at your hip, his other grasped your cheek and jaw, tilting you better to his lips again as he nibbled against your bottom lip.

More the once leaving a tingling sensation in it’s wake as Jon instead of indulging in how easily you parted your lips for him, he pulled away without any thought. Dropping his head down to your neck, lips and tongue soaking up and down the sensitive skin of your neck as you held him tighter, leaning more into his touch. The hand on your cheek slid to grasp your hair, pulling it out of his path and using the grip now to tilt your head giving him more space as you so willingly let him move you.

The moment his teeth sunk into your skin, a loud gasp left you, arching into his touch as his hips begun to press more firmly and noticeably against yours. On an instinct in such an open space, one hand left him to cover your mouth. Only for Jon to leave your hip, yanking the hand away and pushing it to rest against the counter behind you as he kept his own covering yours. Leaning even harder into your front, now a slight shifting as you moved to his touch. Both of you knowing me meant for you to feel his cock twitch and harden against you.

Dragging his teeth rough up and down your neck, only transitioning into his gentle kiss and licks across the bite to sooth the sting before returning to the same feeling making you cry out needy for him now free in the air. “Jon..” Almost weak and unsure in what you were asking for, time need not pass as he still know your needs better.

It was still new, you still did not really know what you liked, but Jon did. Jon knew your body like it was an instrument he had long since mastered the art in playing, he could figure out anything you liked and what you needed when you had not even the understanding to know what that need consisted of. It was bold but Jon knew sometimes he had to be bold.

Hands running under your shirt, Jon found the edge of your sports bra right away, grasping firmly you read his intention, pulling your hands from him as he used the leverage to pull your shirt and bra off. The tight later material snapping as almost as if a show for him, bounced in the jostle as he carelessly tossed it to the ground.

Black and narrowed he stared at you before shaking his head with a gruff mutter through his teeth, “Any man who wouldn’t want this is blind.” Capturing your lips again, did both his rough hands grasp your breasts. Tightly groping with no mercy, pushing them together as he roughly groped at them before sliding to the small buds peaking in the cold kitchen air. Biting at your bottom lip, Jon pulled away to look at your eyes the second he yanked. And not gently, a rough yank that had your core shake in need as you felt the wetness grow within seconds for him. Eyes forced in a silent command to meet his, your mouth dropped open in need as he twisted and yanked before groping your breasts all over again so roughly.

Skipping a path, Jon moved enough so his mouth took over as one hand moved to steady you at your hip. The same soaking and yet rough treatment he had marked your neck up did Jon run his lips and teeth over your breasts. Bruising marks into it with a growling need, only becoming more intense each time you gasped into the air in plea of his name. Sinking his teeth onto your nipple more roughly you cried out so much louder as he matched in harshly pulling and twisting your other with his calloused fingertips.

Hardly tearing away, the only thing splitting the trail of saliva between his mouth and your chest as moving to the other. Giving the same rough treatment and yet your chest arched into his mouth making him all the more greedy and bold. Groping rough, and biting down even rougher then before as he more purposely pulled your other nipple pulling a loud sound into the air from you. So he did it again, and again and as your core soaked you under your clothes did Jons cock throb unbearably hard.

Jon was there for a while, attacking your chest and leaving proof of his presence in bruises and teeth indents as he pulled away. Still pushing and pulling them together in a more rough massaging manner, Jon returned to full height. Speaking to you through very strained gritted teeth and eyes black as he met your eyes even as he hands were rough on your breasts. “I was going to wake you up with my mouth. That morning I had to leave you before you woke up. I was so close to tasting you when I got called in, and all I’ve been able to think about since is you.” Never not roughly adding to the sting on your chest from his tough hands, Jon leaned forward to urgently capture your lips in a deep kiss before pulling away to run his nose along yours. “There hasn’t been a single day I haven’t wanted to spread you for me, taste you until you cry and then sink my cock inside you until you don’t even have it in you to cry anymore.” Another kiss, that time biting at your lip roughly. “Fuck you until you don’t remember anything in your life but how I feel inside of you.” Another bite. “Do you want that?”

Nodding, Jon demanded you say it outloud. “Please, please, Jon I want that. I promise, I want you.” Gritting out in what way, you were far more honest in such a need Jon knew you weren’t even aware you were begging him with a true desperation. “Inside me, please. Gods I want you inside me, I’ve missed you so much.”

Eyes rolling into the back of his head, Jon grappled with himself as he kissed you. He always prepared you, always, but something about having you here begging for his cock sent Jons brain into a feeling almost raw and feral like an animal. Leaving your chest, Jon yanked your pants and underwear both right off and tossed them too. Standing at full height he pulled his own shirt off before cupping your cheeks for another rougher kiss. “Take them off for me.”

The way in which you knelt down without question to pull Jons own pants off with such slow care, contrasted to the quick speed which you got on your knees was unfair. Cupping the side of you face, Jons chest heaved with his breathing staring down at you. You almost didn’t know what he wanted for a moment, and yet unlike anytime before him, did you feel your now bare thighs want to clench together at the thought with him. Almost asking with your movements, your hands found his thighs and drifted up to his hips.

His cock thick and long, hard right at your mouths perfect reach looking up at him, staring down at you with something dark. In truth, neither you or Jon were sure if he was aware he had said it, as if so raw in need it slipped out as dark as it did. “You’d look so beautiful on my cock. So deep in your mouth you couldn’t breathe until I spilled down your throat.”

Biting your tongue from begging him, you leaned a bit closer to his cock. Almost presenting yourself as something for his need and use, but Jon shook his head and yanked you up. Hoisting you up onto the counter, Jon spread your legs and invaded the space between, holding your hips tightly as his cock sat heavy between your legs. Trying to entice him gentle into the right head space, you ran a hand gentle along his cheek and down his coarse facial hair. “I’ll take your cock.” Hands tightening to the point it was leaving bruises as his eyes were painted over in black looking down your frame. “In any way you want me to, I’ll be good, I’ll take it I promise.”

Jon truly fought with himself. He wanted to be gentle, and easy and comforting but you looked at him with such strong trust that you knew he might have done anything at that point. Instead he yanked you over the edge of the counter, one hand gripping the back of your neck to rest your forehead to his, Jon gave you a view of his other hand. Gripping the thick base of his cock, Jon guided himself to your core.

The tight grip on your neck tightened further to force you to pay attention, as Jon slid every single thick inch inside of you in one go. Smooth but so tight and warm around him, you took Jons cock with no resistance. Crying out as your hands dug into his shoulders, your head would've hung even if he didn’t force you to watch him.

Slowly pushing all the way inside of you, Jon didn’t even linger. He was cruel, slowly sliding almost all the way out to the point only his tip remained inside of you. The whine in your chest as Jons eyes flew up to meet yours, but you were so good for him, you didn’t beg or even ask. You’d take whatever he gave you, and Jon just as slowly sunk right back to make you take his whole length. That time not letting you look away from his eyes, your hands on his shoulders. Slowly thrusting inside of you, Jon never wavered in his rhythm. Slow as his cock slid in and out of you with such a soaking sound it would’ve humiliated you if his black eyes weren’t neatly hypnotizing you.

The hand on your hip moved to what he could cup of your ass, pushing you further over the counter. A grunt close to a growl left Jon, eyes closing as he felt as if he was somehow thrusting even deeper inside of you. Hand right of what his fingertips could feel of your plush ass, and once more it came from something Jon didn’t even know he could’ve said to you. “Tonight, darling, I’ll remind you we belong to each other. I’ll taste you until your soaked, I’ll fill your beautiful mouth before fucking you just like this.” Another grunt almost forming to a groan left Jon as his head rose up to almost beg for air to breathe properly despite your core burning so much at his twisting pleasure he stole all your air. “I’ll fuck you as much as you want, darling. But then, I’m going to flip you over, and take you here too.”

Fingers treading to your ass enough to make you jump, but never pushing too far. Only arching more into his touch as he again sunk in and out of your soaking walls, his cock so thick the stretch stung to the point that if it were any but Jon, you’d have wanted to stop. But you couldn’t get over how much your insides twisted in need, barley finding air to beg for him. “I can take it, please-”

His pattern never stopped, he never sped his hips up, nor did he slow down. Jon fucked you nice and deep and slow right on the kitchen counter, sweat building between your bare bodies against one another as your hands grasped at his shoulders. “You don’t now what you can take. I have to show you. You don’t know you’d want my cock deep in your ass until I’m already fucking you there over and over.” You just nodded, you could only agree with no thoughts beyond how close to the sun his cock burned through you. “We can do all of that, but you need to look at me. Now.”

Rising up, Jon still refused to leave his pace, your muscles shaking all around him at how close you were, at how you could hear each time he sunk into you by how coated you made his cock. “Jon..”

Leaving your ass, one hand back on your hip keeping you steady as he fucked into you without letting you even move with him, taking control entirely of the cruelly slow, yet so deeply intimate pace. The other cupping the back of your neck again to keep you close, nudging your nose with his. “Promise me you’ll never doubt this again. Promise me you’ll never trick yourself into thinking I’d want to be with any woman who isn’t you.”

The look on your face was far more wide eyed and innocent then Jon expected and you could feel his cock throbbing inside of you as a result. “I promise, I love you. I’ll never doubt that Jon, I promise.”

A single nod getting through before Jon leaned forward as he pushed your head to to capture your lips in his kiss. The gasp leaving you letting him slide his tongue inside your mouth, brushing along yours coaxing you to follow suit and explore him. But when you were too shy, Jon took the lead once more. Pulling you closer and closer to your end did Jon finally pick up the pace.

Not anywhere near fast, but steady as the sounds of how wet and deep he sunk into you filled the air over and over. Your core twisting and setting on fire, before Jon pulled back enough to bite at your lips and turn back to a deep yet chaste kiss did you find your end.

Arching into his front, Jon let you suddenly hide in his neck. Grasping at your hips tightly though, Jon did not let up. Pulling you as much as the angle could to meet his every thrust, sliding in and out of you at a matching pace he moved you to before pulling you as much as he pushed deep inside of you. One arm wrapping around your back to pull you into him, the other grasping at your hair as Jon hid in there, groaning your name deeply into your ear. Just as deep as he came. Spilling his seed inside of you, pouring thick and deep as it felt hot, Jon kept going. The more you begged meekly into his neck, the more your tight walls clenched around his cock did Jon spill more and more thick spurts of his seed inside of you with not a single bit of shame.

You felt almost lightheaded as he pulled you up to meet your eyes. Yours hazy and needy, but Jons were bright and loving as if he was not still deep inside you. One last kiss to your lips, Jon smiled a bit at how you just clung onto him like you were exhausted. Not everything was fixed, but you were happy that it was a step in the right direction. One more kiss, Jon rasped against them as his hot breath danced across your skin. “I know you had a shower, but I think I want you with me in a hot bath for a while.”

Nodding, Jon knew you’d agree to nearly anything right now. Preparing you that he was going to pull you, Jon shushed you through the wince before picking you up. He’d deal with the mess and scattered clothes he left behind of you both later. After a week of being away from you in such a horrid manner, all Jon could focus on right now was having you laying back against his chest in his arms with soothing hot water around, so he could take care of you. He had you alone for once, he was going to take advantage of it.

But Jon was not the only one who lived there. Intending on stopping by only to see how you were, did the remains of a scene lay out. One he knew he wasn’t supposed to walk into the aftermath of, Jon no doubt would put the kitchen back into respectable order before the others were set to come home. But eyes looked down to your clothes.

The ones he sat out for you. He had been the one to call Jon, to tell him to come fix things with you and you and his brother being happy is what he wanted. But as he stood there looking at your clothes in the remains of a passionate scene, there was only one strange thought in his head.

Why did Robb feel so intensely, almost unbearably jealous?

[pennkquest]

Been absolutely going through it for the past few months, so I wanted to write something self-indulgent for myself. Consider this a WIP potentially but also could be its own self-contained short fic. I hope you enjoy /pos

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Pairing: Alexis/Sam [Note: Pairing exists within an AU where post Sam's turning (years later), they both go to therapy separately, start to heal, and realize they see one another in a new light and eventually start up a romantic relationship again.]

Length: ~650 words

[Other Notes]

Maia = "Darlin" clarification

Sam/Maia (or Sam/Darlin) isn't a thing but they do still meet/are friends

Gave Alexis a new surname cause I said so/she's Cuban to me and I want her name to reflect that

Tag List: @pinksparkl / @romirola / (for the many belated WIP Wednesdays you've tagged me in <3) / @angelicaether / @agentplutonium / @nortyourself

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Sam inhaled sharply, a soft groan leaving the vampire as he reached for his phone buzzing on the nightstand. He clicked the alarm off, sitting up as his eyes skimmed the notifications. 2 texts from Vincent, a voicemail from Maia— Scratch that, a text from Maia asking for advice with Milo. Calendar notification for tonight's meeting.

"What's the traffic lookin' like...?" he mumbled under his breath, eyeing the time as he checked. William hated preventable tardiness, and Sam didn't want to earn a earful tonight. "Usual time, huh? I'm sure I can get Vincent to stall for time if it really comes down to it..."

He set his phone back down, moving the covers back before making his way to the other side of the bed. He looked down, smiling to himself at how little Alexis had on. When did she even manage to snag his button up after this morning? He shook his head with a grin. It looked better on her anyways.

Sam tucked a piece of her hair behind Alexis' ear, "Princess, it's time to get up." The older vampire stirred for a moment but made no moves to get up. "Alexis Guevara, I know you can hear me—"

"Hearing your Southern drawl isn't incentive enough to get up," she mumbled, though she pressed her cheek against the palm of Sam's hand more. Always a brat, he thought to himself as he fought a smile.

"Princess, you were the one who said we oughta set an alarm so we wouldn't be late to the clan meetin'."

"Yes, and I said that before someone here wore every inch of my body out."

"Didn't hear any complaints when I had my—" Sam cut himself off with a laugh as Alexis flipped him off, eyes still closed. He knelt at the bedside, leaning forward to kiss her knuckle. "C'mon, Princess. Y'know Will's gonna fuss if you of all people are late to the meetin'. And I'd feel awfully complicit knowing we're not starting off this livin' together thing with a reputation for punctuality. So," he punctuated with a kiss against the shoulder slipping out of the stolen shirt. "Can you get up for me? Lil ol' Collins?"

Alexis laid there for a few moments, no reaction verbally or physically. Then, with a sigh, she opened her eyes ever so slightly. "For the record, there's not a small thing about you and you know that."

He laughed, and a smile broke out onto her face. "Good evening to you too, Miss Guevara. Lovely being greeted by beautiful eyes and a beautiful smile on this fine night."

"Yeah yeah, scoot out the way so I can find my clothes." Sam stood as Alexis sat up with a quiet exhale, stretching and pulling her hair out of her face. "How much time do we have before we need to leave?"

"Mmm bout twenty or so minutes. Don't worry bout the time though, I'll keep my eye on that," Sam assured, leaning down and kissing his partner.

"Sounds like a plan to me." Alexis tugged on one of the twists Sam had hanging, smiling to herself as she stood from the bed and walked past him.

Sam watched her go, tilting his head. "Don't you think you're forgettin' to leave somethin'? Somethin' on yer person that don't belong to you?"

Alexis looked over her shoulder with faux confusion, tapping a manicured nail against her lips a few time. "Mmm nope. Can't say I have. As far as I'm concerned, everything I've got on right now might as well belong to me. Oh, but maybe you should go find a shirt to wear, Sam. I don't think we need any bold fashion statements at tonight's meeting," she added with a smirk, turning on her heels and heading for his bathroom.

Sam chuckled, shaking his head with a grin. Troublemaker.

[mr-celestial-writings]

Pet Costumes

Pairing: Damian Wayne + Sibling! GN! Reader

Summary: Halloween is quick approaching, and your brother has discovered pet costumes. He decided to drag you along to search for costumes for all his pets... but how do you get a costume for a Dragon Bat?

Trigger Warnings: None

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A lot of things can be said about your younger brother. He was an assassin, he was Robin, he had a bit of an ego. Most importantly, he was an animal lover.

Nobody would believe you if you said that out of nowhere though.

Much like Bruce, Damian had a tendency to take in strays. Just look at Jerry the Turkey or Goliath the Dragon Bat.

You weren't really surprised when Damian came barging into your room. He had a tendency to do so, especially when pissed off.

"[Last Name]! I demand you accompany me to the pet store!" Damian demanded. That got your attention.

"The pet store? I thought you hated pet stores." You said, looking at your brother, surprised.

"They're business practices are exploitative, and I do not agree with the treatment of animals in their care, but I need to look for costumes for everyone." Damian huffed, crossing his arms.

You raised an eye brow. You would have never expected Damian to want to get costumes for his pets.

"For all your pets? Or just like... Alfred, Titus, and Ace?" You questioned, wanting clarification.

"When I say everyone, I mean everyone, [Last Name]." Damian said sternly crossing his arms.

You sighed, and went to get out of bed. Great, so you had to find a costume for a 2 Dogs, A Cat, A Turkey, A Dragon Bat, A Cow, and An Actual freakin dragon.

"Let me get my shoes on, Damian." You replied.

Damian nodded, "Good, Don't take too long." He said, leaving your room.

The things you do for your family.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You scrolled on your phone as you were dragged around by Damian. You had managed to find costumes for the dogs and cat. Damian was determined to get costumes for all his pets.

You had tried to tell him that, Damian, you can't find costumes for farm animals and dragons at freakin' Petsmart. Damian, ever so stubborn, refused to listen.

You had been here for hours, and were about to face Damian's wrath and drag him away.

You had a better idea though.

"Damian, why don't I just... make your other animals some costumes? I have been wanting to get back into sewing." You offered.

Damian lit up at your idea.

"That has to be the smartest idea you've ever had, [Last Name]." He hummed, satisfied. He started dragging you out of the store.

"Ouch, Damian." You sighed.

What had you gotten yourself into?

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a/n: Did you all know that Damian has a dragon? Because I found out while looking up the names of his pets so I didn't mess up anything. And Yes, I absolutely think Damian would be against Pet Stores, mainly major chains, believing them to be abusive.

He loves animals, why would he tolerate businesses that puts them at risk?

[captain-mj]

Hiiiii can I please request a PriceGraves fic where General shepherd would like sexually harass Graves (ass slapping/grabbing, comments, etc.)? And like Graves is a bit scared to do anything of that nature with Price? Idk this came to me as I was under the effects of anesthesia 😂

I certainly can! I'm assuming you mean Graves is nervous to enter a relationship due to concerns that Price would start acting like that but if I misinterpreted, just send me an ask with clarification and I'll rewrite!

Graves felt his skin crawl every time he thought of Shepherd. Now that he was dead, he definitely felt better, and he'd never admit this to anyone, ever. But some of the... behaviors he had exhibited had put Graves on edge.

Graves was not a stranger to locker room talk and how men bragged about touching people, regardless of whether it was asked for or not. As a teen, he would participate, trying to fit the mold of straight man in the American South. As he got older, he started to avoid it, claiming he thought it was childish to talk about people, especially women like that. Which was partially true. He naively thought this was something straight men did. His bubble was quickly burst when he joined the military and found himself the target of that derogatory talk.

But hey, he managed. He kicked ass. Started a company. Made sure anyone that spoke or acted like that either learned their lesson and shut it up or was booted off to scramble for work elsewhere like a dog.

When Shepherd stood behind Graves during an explanation and his hand just brushed against Graves's thighs, he brushed it off as an accident and kept talking.

Then his hand firmly grabbed his ass and squeezed. Under his breath, just loud enough for Graves to hear, “firm”.

Graves despised working with him after that. When he sent his men to die in Russia, he started working through the red tape to separate themselves. Every time they were in the same room, there would be some comment, some line, even just full on grabbing and the only reason Graves didn’t kill him was that his Shadows would be dealing with the repercussions of it. So he sucked it up, minimized contact and kept it moving.

Almost a year later, with Shepherd dead and him in an entirely different position, he'd think the idea of it happening would be the farthest thing from his mind.

But he... felt Price's eyes on him. He was polite and a gentleman.

Unlike Shepherd, Graves liked Price. Really. He wouldn't mind rolling around the hay with him. But they worked together and he didn't want another situation like before.

Price sat with him one day, after a mission and everything had simmered down. He even bought him a drink at the bar. The Shadows and the 141 mingled some, chatting normally.

Graves hesitated to take the drink. "Not going to owe you anything, am I?" He didn't sound like he was joking.

Price paused, bourbon almost touching his lips. "I'm not that kind of man, Graves. I won't lie. I want you. In a way that's not that gentleman like. But I won't ask you for anything. Not unless you ask first."

Graves looked at his drink. "I don't think you'd take advantage of me. I wouldn't let you. Worried you won't respect me."

Price frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Shepherd. He didn't respect me much."

"Did he ever?" The sudden anger in Price's voice was shockingly reassuring.

"Besides grabbing me a little, no. Made some disgusting comments."

Price downed his drink. He ordered another round for the two of them. "I don't allow that kind of behavior. Not among my men. Hate to see someone in power take advantage of it."

Graves was quiet a while, finishing his drink up. He wanted to. He really, really did. He glanced over and they made eye contact.

Price never bothered to hide his emotions. It was an admirable trait. He looked at Graves with such passion and ardor.

Graves broke the gaze and kept drinking. Price patted his shoulder, like they were just friends. "Phillip, I'll always respect you. You made a company from scratch. Stronger men than most."

"Thank you, John."

They separated and Graves wanted to ask him to come back. He didn't. He kept drinking until the Shadows could pull him into karaoke. This was all he needed. They were great. The best friends and coworkers he could ask for.

The bar got ready to close and they were all kicked out. Graves felt that surge of confidence that only came from being too drunk for your own good. He grabbed Price's arm and they stumbled forward.

Price let him into his quarters. He kissed him softly. Sweetly. They both tasted of bourbon.

"Graves, you're too drunk."

"Only time I'll be dumb enough to say yes."

Price smiled at him, though it was a tinge sad. "Let me get you in bed, love." He picked him up, like he didn't weigh anything. He carried him to the bed and laid him down, making sure both of their boots were off and on the floor.

Graves pulled off his shirt and pants, quickly waving his hand at Price's grunts. "I refuse to sleep fully clothed. I'm not in the field."

Price sighed but didn't stop him, only kicking off his own socks. "I'll make tea in the morning."

"....no coffee?"

"Don't drink the stuff."

Graves groaned loudly. "Should've just went back to my own room. No dick and no coffee."

"You're too drunk for me to sleep with you."

"You're buzzed. Cancels out."

"I don't think so." Price ran his fingers through Graves's hair, admiring his flushed face. "What are the chances you pretend you don't remember tonight?"

"Higher than I want to tell you."

Price nodded and leaned down, kissing him again. Graves could feel his heart in his throat. "Not being much of a gentleman, am I?"

"You're the one person I'm okay with it." Graves told him softly. "Look, sleep in the bed with me. Nothing has to happen, but I don't want to kick a man out of his own bed."

Price nodded and crawled in with him. They pressed close together and his arm went around Graves's middle.

It felt nice. Being held. His hands didn't wander. He didn't make any comments. Even pressed against his body, where he could no doubt feel the muscle and how his hands fit around his waist and his ass pressed against him, Price said nothing. Just held him.

Graves felt his eyes start to close. "John, I want you back."

"I know."

[auncyen]

act 5 au

today's writing progress which. may very well require changes lol

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"I still have some questions," Odile says, and you bite back a sigh because of course she does. "You've been looping in time. What was this afternoon about? Why not just tell us then? What was the point of showing me the familytale today? You could have shown me when the loop was over."

"Because it makes you happy, and then you learn a useful skill." You hate the answer as soon as it leaves your mouth. You don't want to lie, but maybe that's too honest. Just tell them you're manipulative, why don't you?

Well, you are. That's why you showed her the familytale.

"Oh, huh." Isabeau sounds pensive. "Yeah, I've heard emotional clarity is good for figuring out new techniques. …You were trying to teach Bonnie something, too, weren't you? Though, putting yourself in danger really isn't a good way to do it, Sif. That was, uh, about the worst thing you could have done with them."

You roll your eye. "It always worked before. I wasn't in any real danger." The worst case scenario was that you'd need to loop, and it'd be really pathetic if such a weak Sadness caused that.

"Thaaaat's not how it sounded." Isabeau leans against the sink, folding his arms. "…You were trying to do that with all of us, weren't you? We were supposed to go stargazing? And, uh…" He looks over at Mirabelle, who huffs, seeming to have calmed down from her tears enough to manage indignation.

"I don't know how I would get any kind of 'emotional clarity' from that--"

"I said it wrong! I meant--"

"No, no! I want to figure it out myself," Mirabelle insists, puffing her cheeks out at you, so--fine. She doesn't need to know that skill anyway, her regular shield will do just fine--

You still haven't reminded her about the CARROT method. Stars. "Okay, but you do need to learn how to make a shield. So, remember the CARROT method, and figure it out."

Everyone looks baffled by various degrees, but that's fine. Mirabelle always looks confused when you hint it to her at the start of a loop anyway. "You know about the CARROT method?" Isabeau asks.

"No, I just know that she knows the CARROT method, and it helps her figure out how to make shields."

"What happens if I don't figure it out?" Mirabelle asks.

"King kills us."

…Oh, that was definitely a too-honest answer. Mirabelle's eyes go round as saucers as one hand flies to her mouth, and even Odile looks alarmed next to her. "…Sif," Isabeau says slowly. "The way you said that…have we actually died?"

You look aside. "He finishes me off first and then I loop back, so, I don't think so?" Not as long as there's only one timeline getting reset, which you have to believe. You can't stomach the situations you've left the others in if they stayed after you were gone. "But it doesn't look good."

"You've died." Isabeau doesn't seem to take any relief from the clarification.

"And then I loop back, and I'm fine!" You sweep your hand in front of yourself, from the brim of your hat to just below your hips, and smile at him. "See?"

His eyebrows stay hovering far above where they normally would rest. You keep smiling at him, fighting not to bare your teeth.

"Sif--"

"Stars, Isa, am I bleeding?" you snap. Why can't he just believe you? "Do you see some gaping wound I've missed? Looping resets everything! I'm not hurt! I'm fine!" You turn to Odile. "Why would I tell everyone I'm looping through time when people are going to get hung up on stupid things like this?"

Odile looks so disappointed with you. "Do you really think you're fine, Siffrin?"

[texasjen13]

Chris and 🐟outcome

Temperance reversed- typically signifies a lack of balance, harmony, or moderation in a relationship. Potentially indicating conflict, disagreements, or an imbalance of power between partners. It suggesting a need to reevaluate how emotions are being expressed and managed within the relationship.

Eight of ones clarification- signifies a fast movement so apparently somebody whether it’s Chris or Alba more than likely Chris wants to end things with her soon and fast.

As for bonus

Yes, or no cards I asked

Will Chris and Alba end?

The first card is the lovers that indicates yes again don’t hate the reader. These cards popped out and I wish I can show y’all when they pop out.

When I asked if they will end this year?

Page of cups came out that indicates a “yes”as well.

When I asked if it will end in June?

Page of coins indicates - a yes 

When I asked if the media will find out about the divorce?

Queen of swords popped out- that indicates a “ No”

And again the queen of swords are like the king of swords is a Gemini energy, so Chris may keep it under wraps until he’s good and ready to tell the world.

Although Alba might not keep it under wraps, she may end up telling everybody. And she may play the victim.

 so they may keep it under wraps about their break up at at least for a while

[gourdnightbugs]

My previous account was @anirregularity . I feel like I should open with that. I didn't deactivate for any important reasons, I just needed to set up a fresh blog. If we were mutuals and you manage to find me again, you can follow if you want ! (i will like. 100% followback i have no enemies ever. maybe)

^ i will be reusing tags from that blog ….

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── - ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── - ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── GENERAL ☆ I go by Nyka (Nee-Ka) or .ZIP, and use it/it's, but any pronouns are fine. I am a robot kinda

i MAINLY post things related to TSP when I'm fandom posting, otherwise it is OC Time Grins

I don't CAAARE what kind of blogs follow but I WILL go out of my way to block proship and SH/ED blogs. I'm not going to debate anyone on this, I just . Don't Care what you have to say dude. my blog MY HOUSE RULES ─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── - ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── - ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ────

I type the way I do for me and me alone. If you see me talking differently to different people or in different areas, it's usually to fit back into a crowd or to honor their own requests! I'm very loud, and stupid at times, and I like repeating things/jokes. if this isn't something you rock with, you don't have to stick around !!! SAME GOES FOR MY TAGGING. I ramble in the tags So Much.

I'm not going to list out everything I have because you'll probably figure it out either way but . for clarification, I have Autism and ADHD👍 ─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── - ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── - ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ────

TAGGING KEY ☆ #nyka talks - my rambling tag, mute this to avoid long posts that USUALLY go nowhere #573's desk drawer - my art tag, and my employee number ! #and co - friend tag. for friend posting. i love my friends im not sorry about thisone(genuine) #favs - self explanatory #a treat - TAG FOR ART FOR ME #a treat from the bomb factory - do you get it . do yo. posts that I love and hate

#BUG SPOTTED! - My lovely bug tag WHO CHEERED Non specific but any tag that addresses "friends, fiends, and bugs" is just referring to You as an audience #beamed into my head - MY TAG FOR RESPONDING TO ASKS #archive - self explanatory again. anything I think should be saved from anirregularity #queue and me - queue tag

any common tags I use in the future will be added to the key eventually! Check back if you see me use something often and don't quite get it, or feel free to ask! ─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── - ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── - ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ────

SIDEBLOGS ☆ @bugwhatvia - Designated Buglivia blog @cookie1through8 - Designated Cookie9 blog @theofficeshutsthedoor - Designated TSP blog

^ in relation to the reviewers , THESE ARE THE FICTIONAL CHARACTERS. NOT THE REAL PEOPLE. I do not know the names of any of the real reviewers and I DO NOT CARE TO!!!! Use your head, I'm just not going to humor anyone being a dumbass about it

if you do something that bothers me I WILL TELL YOU. if I never tell you that you bothered me then you did not bother me

THATS ALL.for now . I might edit this a lot