#one which i have gone past everyday for 3 years

[8loveletters]

"is this everything you dreamed of?"

pairing: kim mingyu × fem reader

genre: smut, mutual pining (or: mutual lowkey unhealthy obsession lol), little fluff at the end

word count: ~4.7k

content warnings: mingyu is a few (like 3) years older than reader, reader is smaller than mingyu and has somewhat longer hair, voyuerism, mutual (kinda) masturbation, dom!mingyu, oral (both receiving), tit sucking/nipple biting, spanking (literally once), unprotected sex, doggystyle, big dick gyu.., filming a sextape (not to be seen by anyone else), creampie, multiple orgasms, sir kink, praise kink, manhandling, lots of pet names given by mingyu (baby/pretty girl, princess, sweetheart, etc. (but also slut/whore..)), mingyu is a lil rough but also a softie,, lmk if i should add anything else!

summary: you've been hopelessly in love with your best friend's older brother for the past decade. you've fantasized countless times about a future in which you could be together. but you've accepted the fact that it will probably remain just that -- a fantasy. that is until your best friend and roommate's weekend trip out of town leads to a rare opportunity. will tonight finally be the night that all your dreams come true?

this weekend would be the first time you were going to be completely alone in a really long time. you and your roommate have been best friends since middle school. so, it only made sense that you would move in together and become roommates when you went to the same college together.

now, it's been a couple years since you graduated but you're still living together. you both enjoyed it though. being with each other practically 24/7 never put a strain on your relationship the way you had heard from others that it might. but you knew the time would come soon that you would have to part ways as you both established yourselves in your careers and became more independent. also, you knew it was only a matter of time that one or both of you would find a romantic partner you were serious enough about to move in with. and this weekend seemed like the first step towards that for your roommate.

she and her boyfriend were taking a weekend trip together for the first time. before that, however, she was going to take him to meet her parents and older brother. it was a way of seeking their approval before taking this next step in their relationship. but frankly it seemed like just a formality, as she was so head over heels for him it probably wouldn't matter whether they approved or not.

you were bored in bed scrolling through your feed while some dumb reality show played on your tv as background noise. you saw the picture your best friend posted earlier that night of her, her boyfriend, and her family taken at the restaurant they had met at to eat dinner. you smiled when you saw how happy she looked. her boyfriend was good to and for her and you knew how excited she was to introduce him to them. you were relieved it seemed to have gone well by the looks on everyone's faces.

however, your eyes eventually locked onto the one face you were trying your best to avoid: her older brother mingyu's.

mingyu was a few years older than you and your best friend. you met him the first time you ever spent the night at her house at the beginning of the first year of middle school. you really hadn't developed any interest in boys yet, and your new friend's awkward older brother was no exception to this, so you really paid him no attention. that, of course, changed over time the more you grew up and became more interested in boys and the more he grew up and became more handsome.

your crush on him really started to grow your freshman year of high school. he was a senior at your same school and seeing him everyday in the hallways in addition to the multiple days a week when you hung out at your best friend's house instead of your own just intensified your feelings more.

you never let onto it though, not wanting to make your best friend uncomfortable. so many girls in your grade already gushed about him around her and you could tell how awkward it was for her. it did make you a bit jealous though, other girls talking about how attractive he was. even though he'd never date them, focusing more on playing sports and hanging out with his friends than fooling around with any girls despite his playboy looks, you couldn't help but feel jealous when they stated the obvious -- that he was hot as hell.

after that year, though, he went off to college and you saw much less of him during those years. you would think that would make your lame high school crush fizzle out, but well, absence makes the heart grow fonder as they say. you cherished anything you could get. the times you would be at the same family functions as your families had also become so close over the years it was like one big extended family. or the time he helped you -- sweaty and shirtless -- move furniture into the new apartment you and your roommate had rented in the dead of summer. or the times he'd be on a roll posting the most boyfriend-coded pictures on his social media for days on end before disappearing from them again for weeks.

and now, after all these years, you still can't bring yourself to commit to a relationship because you just can't stop thinking about him. and you had met some really good people over the years who would be really good partners. but you just weren't ready yet. you just weren't ready to give up on the delusion that you and mingyu could still somehow end up together.

you couldn't stop yourself from clicking the tag on the picture and scrolling through mingyu's profile for the millionth time. you also couldn't stop your mind from wandering straight into the gutter while your free hand wandered underneath the waistband of your sweatpants.

you know it's wrong. you've known it was wrong for about 10 years now. but you just can't help it. you want mingyu, your best friend's brother, desperately. in the worst way possible. you turn off the tv and toss your phone on the bed, letting yourself yet again be immersed in the fantasy of having mingyu deep inside you. you tell yourself if this dream could become a reality just one time, you'd be satisfied and able to move on. but for now, you try in vain to pleasure yourself with just your fingers even half as much as you're convinced his cock would be able to.

so lost in your delusions, you don't even hear the front door of your apartment open and shut.

at dinner, mingyu's sister had asked him to stop by the apartment on his way home. she had forgotten to water her plant and she figured you'd probably be out with your other friends since it was the weekend. maybe you might have heard him struggle twice before finally entering the passcode correctly, but your bedroom was farthest from the front door and you had left your bedroom door open only a crack out of habit. plus, not much could be heard over your pathetic moans and whimpers thinking about the man who was now in your apartment.

mingyu was never the most observant person, so he didn't notice anything as he went to water the plant. even when he did think he heard something, he just chalked it up to maybe the walls being thin and it being a neighbor with their tv up too loud. so, he set the watering can down and started to leave the apartment. that is until he heard something akin to a siren's call: your voice. after all these years, it was unmistakable to him.

his mind tried to convince him he didn't hear what he thought he did. while his body, more specifically his cock growing harder by the second, led him toward your bedroom door. toward a sound he had only dreamt of: you moaning in pure ecstasy. as he reaches your door, his brain tries one last futile attempt to persuade him that you must have left your tv on and that's what he's hearing. as a good guy looking out for your electricity bill, he'll just pop in real quick and turn it off...

mingyu slowly pushes the door open and sees exactly what he was both hoping and dreading at the same time.

you are sprawled out on your bed in just a tiny tank top and panties, your sweatpants discarded at some point to the middle of your floor. mingyu cannot believe how beautiful you look biting your bottom lip with furrowed brows, hair all disheveled. his hand has a mind of its own as it quietly unbuckles his belt and releases his throbbing hard length from his slacks.

mingyu knows it's wrong. he's known it was wrong for about 10 years now. you were his little sister's best friend. he should not ever have been attracted to you, nor should he still be. but he was and he is.

countless nights over the years he dreamed about you two being together. but he could never cross that line and initiate anything. especially since he could never quite gauge how you really felt about him. he thought there was something to the looks you'd give him, and the way you'd blush when you realized he'd noticed. but then you'd usually act so indifferent or at the most cordial when you were around him. so he was always wondering if those lustful glances were all in his head. but it was just enough to always keep him wondering about what it would be like to be with you. so much, that it was hard for him to be in any kind of serious relationship. no one could compare to you, even if it was just an idealized version of you.

"mingyu!"

his blood runs cold and he stops in place, hand mid-pump down his thick cock. he stays frozen in place like a thief who has just been caught red-handed. when his eyes look up from your hand in your panties that he was focusing so intently on to your eyes, he realizes they are still shut. you haven't seen him. then, why would you have screamed his name..?

"mingyu, please. i want-- need you so bad." you are desperately chasing a high that won't come because your fingers just aren't enough. mingyu realizes immediately what's going on.

you're fantasizing about him while you touch yourself so desperately. this finally confirms that all these years he really wasn't crazy. you wanted him just as badly as he wanted you.

his body takes over once again giving his mind no time to even try to be rational. within seconds mingyu is hovering over you on your bed.

your eyes shoot open and you scream, heart nearly stopping. when you come to your senses and realize that the man over top of you is, literally, the man of your dreams and not some random intruder you relax slightly. but that doesn't last long before your entire body is burning with embarrassment as you try your hardest to push him away from you and cover yourself.

"mingyu!" no matter how you say his name it drives him crazy all the same. "w-what the hell are you doing here?!"

"my sister asked me to stop by and water her plant and-- well none of that matters now. what i want to know is what you were just doing?"

mingyu is still towering over you, your attempts to move his large frame amusing at best. the look on his face is something you've never seen before, like that of a ravenous wolf staring down its meal.

"i, uhh, i was just--" you shift under his gaze and turn your head slightly. if you can't get away from him you at least want to hide how hard he's making you blush right now.

"cat got your tongue, baby girl?" his smirk is so evil, his voice so cocky. "how about i give you the rundown? you were playing with that pretty little pussy of yours imagining it was me deep inside you and not your fingers. sound about right?"

you can't bring yourself to look at him directly, but your body is fighting hard to let him know he's exactly right. with much resistance, you're able to give him a slight nod. but it's not good enough.

mingyu grabs you somehow both roughly and gently by the chin and forces you to look him in his beautiful brown eyes that are saturated with lust. "use your words, darling. is that what you were doing?"

"y-yes.." it's soft but seems to satisfy him and he lets go of your jaw.

"well this is no good. all these years i never dared try anything because it didn't seem you felt the same way. but here you were so desperate for me all along." mingyu repositions himself so he can spread your legs apart, eyes locking onto the soaked fabric of your panties. your face is still burning but your body gives up on trying to resist him anymore and you keep your legs spread wide while he stares for what feels like ages. "oh y/n... if you really wanted me this badly, all you had to do was ask."

"i--" your voice catches in your throat, but you gather all your strength and try again, way too needy to care about how pathetic you're about to sound. "i don't just want you mingyu.. i need you.. been dreaming about you in my guts for years now.."

mingyu chuckles and cups your cheek with his large hand, looking down at you like you're the most adorable thing he's ever seen. "well then, tonight i'll make all those dreams a reality for you."

within the time it takes you to blink, mingyu crashes his lips into yours, all but devouring your lips with his own. his kisses are passionate and sloppy, giving away just how much he's been waiting for this moment as well. he trails more kisses down your neck as you unbutton the nice white dress shirt he was wearing and throw it on the floor near your sweatpants. he clumsily takes off his slacks and underwear, leaving himself fully exposed while you were still (barely) covered by your small tank top and panties.

you take in his form, his chiseled body and long, thick cock making you clench around nothing and bite your lower lip. he smirks at your reaction for a moment before quickly moving down to the end of the bed, positioning his face between your thighs right in front of your dripping core.

without warning he drags his tongue along the length of your cunt over the ruined fabric. your moan makes him smile wide, fangs on full display. "mm, baby, already so wet just for me." he places a few kisses on your thigh, surprisingly soft compared to the rough ones on your mouth moments before. the teasing becomes too much for you though, and you buck your hips up on instinct trying to get more contact on the place you need it most.

you whine as mingyu pulls his head away and forces your hips down onto the mattress. "not so fast, sweetheart. i need to hear you say exactly what you want from me. be a good girl and ask nicely, and i'll give it all to you."

"your tongue.. need your tongue on my pussy. please, mingyu."

mingyu gives you a satisfied nod and wastes no time ripping your thin panties clean off you and tossing them aside. he dives straight into your folds, lapping at your cunt like a dog who hasn't drank anything in days. the sensation quickly becomes overwhelming and when he moves to focus his attention on your clit, you're brought closer and closer to the edge. you manage to get a few words out at a time between moans and heavy breaths. "mingyu, i'm so close.. c-can i please come?" you catch on quickly, knowing he probably wouldn't let you unless you asked nicely.

and it seemed to work. mingyu nods and lets out a hum of approval and that's all you need to allow your orgasm to overtake you. your hands grabbed at his thick, dark hair as you pulled him closer into your core, hips rocking back and forth as you rode out your high.

mingyu licked up all your juices as you came down and then looked up at you, chin wet and eyes looking even hungrier than before. he crawled back on top of you, kissing you somehow even more wildly than he had before. once he felt you had had enough time to recover from your first climax, he effortlessly picked you up and swapped your positions in one swift motion. he was now the one laying on his back while you were over top of him. you knew he must be strong with the way he was built, but you were a little speechless at the maneuver he just pulled off like it was nothing. once you snap out of it, you take advantage of your position being literally on top and try to take a bit of the control in this situation.

"now it's my turn to make you feel good. would you like that, hm? like to see me choking on that big dick?" you grind your core down onto his rock-hard member as you ask, eliciting a quiet groan from mingyu's throat. when he doesn't answer right away, you decide to rephrase the question in a way that makes him feel he still has all the control. "can i please suck your cock, mingyu?"

he nods and you get right to work. you position yourself between his legs and are a bit taken aback when you see just how big and thick he is up close and in detail. you lick your lips at the sight and get started. you bob your head up and down a few times, stopping only part of the way down as you don't think you'd be able to take all of him. this isn't good enough for mingyu however and he suddenly wraps your hair tight around his hand and pushes your mouth down his full length. the pain of his tip pushing at the back of your throat brings tears to your eyes, but it feels so good at the same time.

after bringing your head back up and letting you catch your breath for a moment, mingyu starts relentlessly fucking your mouth. the sounds that fill the room are so filthy and it's like music to his ears. "look at you. so pretty while i fuck your mouth. such a beautiful little slut for me." you moan at his praises, tears streaming down your cheeks. the vibration of your voice around him is enough to finally push him towards his climax and his thrusts become sloppier but more forceful. "fuck, baby, feel so good choking on my cock. you ready to swallow my cum like a good little whore?" you do your best to nod your head in agreement and seconds later you feel him unload down your throat. when he's finished, he pulls out and you swallow hard. you open your mouth to show him you took it all and he smiles, a little out of breath. "good girl."

the way he praises you makes your heart skip a beat. all you've wanted for so many years was to be with him like this. and even if this is the only chance you ever get, you're glad you could make him feel good and be his good girl for the night.

you think mingyu might need a minute to recover, but you're amazed when he's ready to go again almost immediately. he quickly sits up and begins messily making out with you again. as he does, he finally pulls off your tank top which somehow has stayed on this whole time. once your tits are free he takes a moment to look at them in awe. then, he's kissing and sucking on them just as gently as he had your thighs earlier. you appreciate the way he can be so rough and so gentle with you, making you feel better than anyone you'd ever slept with before.

the stimulation on your nipples heightens your arousal, but you need more. "mingyu.."

"what is it, princess?"

"please-- can you please fuck me? need you inside me now." your last word comes out more like a moan as mingyu lightly bites your sensitive nipple before pulling away to look you straight in the eye.

he can see the way your eyes beg for him and he just can't keep you waiting any longer. he throws you onto the bed on your stomach, the way he can just toss you around so effortlessly like a doll turning you on even more. he positions you with your head down on your pillow, ass up in the air as he gets on his knees behind you. then, he notices something that catches his eye: your phone that you had tossed onto the bed next to you earlier. it gives him a naughty idea and he grabs it quickly and before you can react, he's got the camera app open and recording a video.

"mingyu, what are you doing?!" suddenly you feel shy all over again.

"just filming a little something so you know this wasn't a dream." as he says this, he runs his tip through your folds, camera angled perfectly to capture everything. your shyness subsided and all you can think about is him finally rearranging your guts.

"ah, don't tease," you whine. "please put it inside. please, gyu." the nickname and the begging tone of your voice somehow make him harder, if that was even possible. he intends to oblige, but first, he hands you your phone.

"i'll give you all that you're begging for and more. but you gotta keep the camera on that pretty face of yours while i fuck you stupid. got it, baby?"

you nod and feel mingyu's hand come down and smack your ass, clearly not content with your lack of a verbal response. "not good enough, dear. need to hear you say it. do you understand?"

"yes, sir."

he groans, showing he clearly likes when you address him this way. as soon as you get the camera angled perfectly on your face, mingyu slowly starts pushing into your entrance.

"oh, fuck." you both say it simultaneously. his cock is so thick inside you and your pussy is so tight around him. you're not sure all of him will even fit, but he keeps slowly pushing in further and further until he bottoms out with a deep groan.

"that feel good, princess?" he stays still inside you, giving you time to adjust to his massive size.

"mm, yes, feels so good. filling me all the way up so fucking perfectly." you make direct eye contact with the camera as you speak, having enough foresight to know how hot it will be when either of you watches it back later.

mingyu takes this as his cue to finally start moving in you. he pulls back slowly, almost pulling all the way out before harshly thrusting back into you. you basically scream as he hits your sweet spot, nearly dropping the phone before quickly repositioning it. he then starts thrusting in and out of you at a steady and relentless pace.

the room, and probably your entire apartment, is filled with your moans and the sounds of skin slapping against skin, the camera capturing it all along with the tears that begin falling down your cheeks once again.

"fuck, baby, you're so tight. feel so fucking good clenching around me. better than i ever imagined. is this cock everything you dreamed of?"

"fuck, mingyu. so much better. so much bigger. fuck, just like that. please keep using my pussy just like that. it's all yours. i'm all yours, mingyu." you just keep babbling on, coming closer and closer to exploding again. the way you keep clenching around him is bringing mingyu back to the edge again as well.

"damn, baby, i'm so close. tell me where you want my cum and i'll let you come as well."

"inside. please, sir. i want you to come deep inside me. fill me up, please, gyu." you meant it when you said you were all his. and you wanted all of him, every last drop, inside of you.

after a few more strokes you both started coming undone. you tried your best to keep the camera focused on your face, but the video was probably going to come out just as shaky as your whole body was right now. mingyu painted your walls with his thick, hot white ropes of cum that mixed together beautifully with your own juices.

he stayed inside of you as you both caught your breaths a little. he reached forward and grabbed your phone from your hand, and focused it again on your cunt as he slowly pulled out. once his member was fully removed, he zoomed in on your hole as the mixture of liquids began to leak out and down onto the sheets below you.

once he felt like he got all the footage he needed, he locked your phone and threw it back onto the bed. mingyu could see you were too exhausted to move much on your own, so he went into your bathroom to get some towels to clean both you and the sheets up a bit before crawling into bed and cuddling with you.

he began petting your hair and showering you with praises. "you did so well, pretty girl. took my cock so well and looked so beautiful coming undone just for me." he kissed your forehead and you snuggled up closer to him, feeling so safe and warm in his big arms, comforted by the sound of his heart beating through his chest. you lay just like this for a bit before looking up at mingyu.

"thank you." he looks at you confused, cocking his head to the side like a curious puppy.

"thank you for making my dreams come true. even if it was just for one night.. i'm so happy to finally be with you like this."

mingyu looks a little upset at your words and you start to panic internally, fearing you've said something wrong.

"you don't have to thank me. i've wanted this just as badly, you know. but--" he stops for a moment but eventually continues. "was this just a one time thing for you?"

you're taken aback by how upset and almost insecure he seems, compared to how confident he had been all night.

"no!" it comes out a bit more panicked than you intended and you tried to calm yourself before continuing. "i just assumed.. i mean, would you want to do this again?"

"of course i would. you're the only girl i've wanted for years now, y/n. now that i've had you, i don't think i can ever let you go."

"but what about--" you stop yourself, realizing it would be weird for both of you to bring up your best friend and his younger sister while you're both laying naked together in bed after what you've just done. "are you sure?"

mingyu rolls over on his side, getting in a better position to look you in the eye and show you how sincere he is. "i've never been more sure about anything in my life. i'm completely yours, as long as you'll have me."

your eyes start to well up and you blink a couple times, mostly to make sure one final time that you're really not dreaming, but it also causes the tears to start streaming down. mingyu quickly wipes them away and caresses your cheek.

"of course i will, mingyu. you're literally a dream come true for me. like i told you earlier, i'm all yours."

mingyu pulls you closer to him and kisses you long and hard. when you finally part he just rests his forehead on yours for a moment and smiles, eyes still closed. when he's finally soaked up the moment, he quickly gets up from the bed leaving you a bit confused. he then walks around to your side and picks you up bridal-style without warning. you squeal at first and then start to giggle. he finds it so endearing how adorable you are and chuckles along with you.

"come on, pretty girl. let's go get properly cleaned up and get some well-deserved rest." he carries you across the room toward your bathroom so easily, as if you weigh nothing in his arms.

"yes, sir." your voice is so teasing now, completely unlike how you said the same phrase earlier that night.

"don't tease me, love. not unless you're ready for round two."

you smirk as you look up at him, still holding you while standing still in the doorway to your bathroom.

"i'm ready if you are."

a/n: this is my first nsfw piece so i hope it's okay 👉👈 any constructive feedback is greatly appreciated!! also, if you liked this please check out my other works here, and please reblog instead of just liking!

[rxmqnova]

Hi!, how are you? So i saw that you have your request open can I request

Mama!Nat x daughter (around 3-4) in where on one of Natasha's missions she lost her memories and her memory stayed around when she left the red room so she doesn't know she has a daughter (duh), when she is told she can't believe it because she never though she would be able to have a child or they take her daughter to see her for when she wakes up and she finds out that she has a daughter that way. she feels insecure about being with her thinking she may hurt her So she avoids her. But reader insist to be with her mama angst with happy ending pls.

Hope you have a wonderful Christmas an new year🎉

Btw sorry for the bad grammar/English. it's no my first language

Lost memory

Y/N: 4 years old ——————————————————

NO ONE'S POV "Please, auntie Wanda, I want to see mommy" Y/N begs, hugging Wanda's legs tightly and looking up at her with the best puppy eyes she can do.

Y/N's been begging every single Avenger, one by one, to take her see her mommy. Natasha's last mission didn't go as planned and she got badly hurt. She even was in coma for the entire 3 weeks, but thankfully she's much better now.

Though there is one problem… Unfortunately, Natasha doesn't remember the last years of her life… more specifically, the last memory she has is from more than ten years ago when she escaped the Red room.

Y/N's been begging and crying everyday, wanting to see her mommy. She knows Natasha's here on the compound as she saw how Steve carried her mama to Bruce after the mission.

"Y/N/N" Wanda sighs, lifting Y/N up and sitting her on her hip. "Honey, I know you do, but your mommy needs to rest" She kisses the little girl's head, receiving a whine as Y/N buries her head into Wanda's neck.

"I want mommy" Y/N cries out into Wanda's neck, making Wanda sigh once again.

"I know, bubs, I know"

———

It took a few hours of begging, but Bruce and Doctor Cho agreed that they can't go on like this for much longer. Because the only one Natasha briefly remembers is Clint, he agreed that he'd be the one who tells the redhead about Y/N.

"How are you feeling?" Clint smiles at his best friend, sitting down on the bed.

"I'm fine, I don't know why I still have to be here" Natasha sighs, crossing her arms over chest. "Why are you here?"

"Can't I just come to see how's my friend doing?" Cling teases on which Natasha raises an eyebrow. "But yeah, I'm here to tell you something" He looks at the redhead, preparing himself to tell her about Y/N.

"Why are you looking at me like that? What is it? I feel like nothing can be worse than that I forgot the past 14 years of my life" Natasha sighs, waiting for Clint to speak.

"… We haven't really told you everything, Nat. There's something we left out, but we can't keep that from you anymore" Clint starts. "… You saved a little girl on a mission 3 years ago… She's spent here for about… 2 months and you decided to adopt her. She's 4 now and she's been begging us to take her to you. I know it's-"

"Wait. Wait. I adopted a child? Me?" Natasha asks shocked, not believing anything from what Clint has just said.

"Yeah, I-"

"Mama! Mama!" Y/N bursts into the room, Wanda running after her.

"I'm sorry, I turned around for 2 seconds and she was gone" Wanda explains with a sigh.

"Mama, I missed you!" The tiny girl says, attempting to climb the bed. "Mama" A whine escapes Y/N's lips after another failed attempt of climbing the bed as it's too high for her, holding her arms up for Natasha who's just staring at her shocked.

Wanda's quick to lift Y/N up, sitting her on her hip and holding her tightly as Y/N's trying to wiggle out of her arms and reaching her tiny arms for Natasha.

"N-no, no, I can't" Natasha panics, shaking her head.

"Calm down, Nat" Clint moves closer, trying to comfort his best friend. "Take her out, Wanda" He orders, Wanda nodding immediately.

"Want mommy! Mama!" Y/N cries loudly, kicking her legs and trying to wiggle out of Wanda's arms while the witch is carrying her out of the room again.

———

A few days have passed since Natasha found out about Y/N and she still doesn't know how to feel about that. And now when she's finally allowed to leave the bed and get back to normal life, it seems even scarier.

Y/N, on the other hand, has been crying nonstop through the days. She just wants her mommy and everyone's been keeping her away again.

"Mama!" Y/N grins once she sees Natasha step into the kitchen, immediately jumping off of the chair and running to the redhead, crashing her little body into Natasha's legs.

"Oh, hi" Natasha says akwardly, carefully peeling the little girl off of herself.

It's not like she wouldn't want a child, but she just doesn't know how to take care of one. After all, she's never taken care of a child before… well, she doesn't remember it… so it's understandable that she's scared of it.

"Mama, I drew you lots of pictures. I'm gonna show you" Y/N informs, already running away for her drawings which makes Natasha let out a sigh of relief and she quickly makes herself something for breakfast.

"Hey, hm. You're Wanda, right?" Natasha asks, sitting down opposite the brunette who smiles and nods in response, so Natasha takes a deep breath before speaking again. "Clint told me you were the one who mostly took care of Y/N. I just… I just wanted to ask you if you could maybe take care of her for a bit more? At least a few more days please?" She asks, hoping to get a yes from the witch.

"Oh, of course. Y/N's such a sweetheart. If you need any help with her, I'll be happy to help you" Wanda smiles warmly on which Natasha lets out a sigh of relief, though the tiny footsteps that are approaching stress her out immediately.

"Look, mama! I have so many pictures for you!" Y/N informs, crawling on Natasha's lap which only makes Natasha panic. She has no idea how to hold the little girl, scared that if she wrapped her arms around her, her hold could be too strong and she'd hurt her. "This is you and me playing soccer, mama!" Y/N grins, pointing at the two figures on her picture before looking up at Natasha who only hums in response and gives the tiny girl an akward smile. "And this is us building a snowman!"

Of course Wanda senses Natasha's discomfort and calls her little niece to come sit back to her and to finish her breakfast which she's been eating before Natasha came in. Natasha mouths a 'thank you', shooting Wanda a smile before quickly finishing her own breakfast, disappearing into the gym without Y/N noticing.

"Where did mommy go, auntie Wanda?" Y/N asks after a while, looking around to find her mother.

"She needs to rest a lot, honey. We should leave her alone for a little bit" Wanda says with a sigh, already knowing this won't satisfy the tiny one.

Y/N pouts, jumping off of her chair, taking her drawings and running away, ignoring Wanda who's calling after her. She hasn't seen her mommy for weeks, she just wants to be with her. Why nobody understands?

The little girl enters Natasha's bedroom only to find it empty. There are ony two more places on the compound Natasha could be, so Y/N decides to check.

After not finding her mother in her office, Y/N ends up in the gym, smiling when she sees Natasha there.

"Mommy, you forgot the pictures!" Y/N informs, running to Natasha with her arms up. "Up! Mama! Up! Please!" The tiny girl pleads, jumping up and down in front of the redhead.

"Y/N, I… just put those drawings on the bench over there. I'll take them later, yeah?" Natasha says, trying her best to not hurt the little one's feelings.

Y/N nods, running away to put her drawings on the bench like Natasha wanted and then running back to her mama.

"Mommy, up please" Y/N requests, pulling out her best puppy eyes in hope to get some cuddles from the redhead.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I can't" Natasha nearly whispers, hoping the little girl would just go away.

"But mama please. I want some cuddles" Y/N repeats again, tears filling her little eyes.

"Y/N, I said no. Please go away" Natasha sighs, slowly losing her patience as the little child is still standing in front of her with her arms up.

"Mama, please" Y/N pleads.

"What is so hard to understand? I said no. Go away" Natasha orders sternly, her voice raised a little bit which makes Y/N run away and cry loudly.

Natasha lets out a sigh after Y/N's cries die down, squeezing her eyes shut. She didn't want to make Y/N cry.

About an hour later Natasha leaves the gym, picking up the drawings from Y/N on the way. She throws them on her bed as soon as she enters her room, deciding to look at them after a shower. She really feels bad for making the tiny one cry.

Fresh out of the shower Natasha sits on her bed, taking all of the papers Y/N gave her and looking at all of them. She can't help the smile that forms on her face while looking at those drawings.

She spots a few more pictures hanging her closet, so she stands up and goes to look. She hasn't noticed them before as Clint only showed her where her room is this morning.

Now feeling even worse Natasha walks around the compound with hope to find the little girl somewhere. And after what feels like stepping into 100 different rooms Natasha finally finds the tiny girl in what seems to be her bedroom, laying on her bed and cuddling to her teddy bear while sobbing.

"Hi there" Natasha says quietly, sitting down on the bed on which Y/N just turns around and buries her head into her pillow. "Can we talk?" "Hm-hm" Y/N shakes her head.

"… Are you mad at me?" Natasha asks, gently placing her hand on Y/N's back and giving it a rub.

"Yes, because you're being mean and don't want to give me cuddles" Y/N mumbles out with a pout, finally looking at her mother with her puffy eyes.

"Y/N, I… I'm sorry, okay? I didn't want to be mean to you, but I just don't remember you" Natasha sighs, tears forming in Y/N's eyes again at the not very nice tone Natasha used. "No, please don't cry. I'm sorry"

"But I want you to give me lots of cuddles and be nice to me, because you're my mama" Y/N cries out, burying her head into her pillow again which makes Natasha think about whether should she leave or not. She's never been in a situation like this. What should she do?

"I'm sorry, please just stop crying" Deciding to stay, Natasha desperately tries to calm down the little girl somehow, but rubbing her back just doesn't seem to be enough.

Though Y/N's tears don't stop. She just wants more comfort from her mommy, so she crawls over to Natasha, sitting on her lap, wrapping her tiny arms around her and burying her face into her mother's chest.

"I… okay" Natasha carefully wraps her arms around the tiny girl which finally makes Y/N calm down and the redhead smile as Y/N's hug brings her this really nice feeling she doesn't remember feeling before.

"Mama?" Y/N questions, lifting her head to look at Natasha who hums in response, smiling a little bit. "Did you look at my pictures?" She continues, finally being in her mommy's arms making her forget everything that happened just a few minutes ago on which Natasha lets out a chuckle.

"I did, they're very pretty, sweetheart" Natasha tells the tiny one, receiving a huge smile from the little girl before she cuddles up to her, making Natasha smile.

It will surely take a while until Natasha learns how to take care of Y/N and it will surely be hard, but now the redhead knows she wants to try and be a mother to the tiny girl. And there was only one thing that made her realize… a hug from her little girl.

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

I'm sorry it took so long. I hope you had wonderful Christmas and New year as well!! <33

Part 2

Series masterlist

Masterlist

[lesbianloml]

my babysitter au

the first kiss

types of piece(s): imagine, oneshot, drabble, series

type(s) of writing: smut, angst, fluff, dark (the story will contain all of the above)

pairing(s): milf!dom!dark!wanda maximoff x innocent!sub!immune!witch!fem!reader

warning(s): legal age gap (wanda is 33, reader is 21), obsessive wanda, sorta pervy wanda, maybe?, nothing mostly fluff and plot shit

summary: wanda met you for the first time three days ago. when she runs into you again at the bake sale at the elementary school, she is thrilled. but wanda is overjoyed when the two of you make a deal that will let her see you everyday.

a/n: I know I've been gone FOREVER but I'm back with part 2 of this series. I hope you guys like it, and if you have any ideas or requests, let me know!

you groan as you lean over and press snooze on your alarm. 5am is way too early to wake up, but you need to finish baking and packaging all the treats for the bake sale this afternoon. you sigh, before climbing out of bed and beginning your morning routine. you shower, put on a cute brown mini dress before heading to the café. you sigh as you look around the empty shop, before pulling on an apron and starting your work.

*hours later*

you startle awake at the sound of your phone ringing. you gasp as you check the time. its 3:30pm, the bake sale starts in 30 minutes, and you haven't even begun to load everything up and set up your table. you check the caller id. dottie. you sigh heavily before answering the call. "hello?" you ask, your voice sugary sweet. "y/n y/l/n! where in the world are you? you were supposed to be here an hour ago to help set up! you're 21 years old, you should be more responsible than this!" as dottie rambles on and on, you sigh. "dottie? give me 5 minutes, I'm on my way." you hang up, ignoring her protests as you quickly load your car with the wrapped treats from the bakery, all made by you.

you speed down the road, and quickly turn into the almost full school parking lot. you scramble out of your car and as you close your door, you turn to be face to face with wanda. "wanda! you scared me!" wanda smiles at your expression. "sorry, detka. you're here for the bake sale right?" wanda asks, looking at you with a look you're unable to read. "yup thats what im here for." wanda turns quickly as two boys come speeding around the parking lot. "billy, tommy! come here. I have someone i want you to meet." you gasp as the boys come speeding past you, a silver blue blur before coming to a halt in front of you.

"y/n, this is billy and tommy. billy and tommy, this is y/n." you smile, looking at them both kindly. "which one of you is super speedy?" you ask. "I am!" tommy pronounces proudly. "would you two like to help me set up my booth?" "we would love to, y/n!" billy says. strangely formal for a 10 year old, but you don't question it. for the next 15 minutes, you spend with the boys, laughing and giggling at tommy's antics as they help you set up your booth. it gets done much quicker with the maximoff's help then it's would've if you had done it alone.

you smile at the sight of your booth, ready just in time as all the parents and children begin filing in. "as a thank you for your help, you three get first pick of the treats." you say, gesturing to the variety of sweet treats you have set out on your table. tommy immediately goes for a huge triple chocolate cookie. you laugh, sharing a shy glance with wanda. billy walks slowly over to the table, and carefully surveys his options before choosing a cupcake with sprinkles. wanda walks over to the table after the boys scatter to go say hi to their friends. wanda grabs a cinnamon pastry and pops it in her mouth. her eyes brighten as she chews slowly. "did you make all of this on your own, y/n?" you smile sheepishly. "yes, i did. do you like it?" you ask, subtly asking for her approval. as wanda finishes chewing, she lets out a soft moan of satisfaction. a faint blush coats your cheeks at the noise, your eyes drifting to places they shouldn't.

"y/n? did you hear me?" wanda asks sweetly. people are beginning to drift over to your booth, the wonderful delectable smells drawing them. "sorry wanda. what was that?" you turn your attention to her for a moment before beginning to serve the customers in front of you. "i would just like to speak to you after the bake sale, ok darling?" dottie approaches the table, eyes on wanda to drag her off somewhere. "of course wanda! ill meet you in a little while" you say, flashing her a sweet smile. you continue serving the lengthy growing line in front of you, your attention drifting back to where it needs to be.

wanda's jaw drops as she sees you in your car speeding around the corner. wanda walks swiftly over to your car, standing behind your car door. "wanda! you scared me!" wanda smiles at your face expression. just you saying her name in your pretty little voice, it slipping out your plump lips. it makes her want to bend you over right here and make you scream it. "sorry, detka. you're here for the bake sale aren't you?" she mentally curses herself. what a stupid question, of course that's what you're here for. she feels like an idiot, but you don't even seem to notice. "yup, that's what i'm here for!" wanda hears tommy and billy giggling, and she wants you to meet her sons more than anything in that moment. if her plan works, soon you and her sons were going to be well acquainted.

"billy, tommy! come here, i have someone i want you to meet." wanda smiles when you gasp as the boys come speeding past you in a silver blue blur. "y/n, this is billy and tommy. billy and tommy, this is y/n." wanda watches as you smile widely, then give them a teasing look. "which one of you is super speedy?" you ask. "i am!" tommy pronounces proudly. "would you two like to help me set up my booth?" "we would love to, y/n!" billy says. wanda chuckles softly at billy. so formal, so sweet. for the next 15 minutes, wanda and her boys spend time with you, laughing and giggling together at tommy's antics as they help you set up your booth. wanda is thrilled at how well you, billy, and tommy are getting along. you guys almost seem best friends already.

wanda watches you smile at the booth setup, happy that you like it. "as a thank you for your help, you three get first pick of the treats." wanda's smile widens as tommy immediately goes for the huge triple chocolate cookie. he's so predictable. you laugh, and wanda shares a glance with you. you're so shy, so beautiful it makes her want to scream. billy walks slowly over to the table, and carefully surveys his options before choosing a cupcake with sprinkles. utterly predictable. wanda walks over to the table after the boys scatter to go say hi to their friends. wanda grabs a cinnamon pastry and pops it in her mouth. her eyes brighten as she chews slowly. it is incredible. she's almost shocked. "did you make all of this on your own, y/n?" wanda asks, her voice filled with wonder. you smile sheepishly. "yes, i did. do you like it?" you ask, subtly asking for her approval.

how cute. wanda knew you would be the perfect wife for her. as wanda finishes chewing, she lets out a soft moan of satisfaction. she knows what she's doing as a faint blush coats your cheeks at the noise. she watches your eyes drift to the places she wants them to be glued to the most. "can i talk to you after the bake sale?" wanda asks, but notices your attention trailing. "y/n? did you hear me?" wanda asks sweetly. people are beginning to drift over to your booth, the wonderful delectable smells drawing them. "sorry wanda. what was that?" your attention is on her for a moment before you begin to serve the customers in front of you. you're so sweet. wanda thinks so many dirty thoughts about you, that she wants to say to you now. she restrains herself, not wanting to scare you away. "i would just like to speak to you after the bake sale, ok darling?" wanda almost lets out a groan of dread when dottie approaches the table, her predatory gaze fixed. "of course wanda! ill meet you in a little while!" as dottie drags wanda away, wanda's gaze is fixed on you the entire time, hearts in her eyes.

after the bake sale, you and wanda meet up in the parking lot. the boys are konked out in the back of wanda's suv, their sugar high short lived. "what did you want to talk about wanda?" you ask, shivering as the fall chill falls over you. wanda immediately removes her jacket, offering it to you. "here detka. wouldn't want you to be chilly." wanda waits for you to slip it on before speaking again. "i wanted to offer you a job. i've found a job downtown, and I was just wondering if you'd like to start babysitting billy and tommy during the week or whenever I need it. my job requires a lot of travel. and of course, I would pay you double what you make right now at the café.." wanda rambles, but her breath catches as you lay a sweet hand on her arm. "oh wanda, I would love to! I already feel so close with billy and tommy, like I've known them for years. maybe we could meet up sometime over coffee and talk some more? i'm sure you're eager to head home." you say, nodding to the boys sleeping in the back of wanda's car.

wanda nods. "of course. that would be perfect, sweetheart. here, ill put my number in your phone. ill text you, okay?" you smile, handing wanda your phone. wanda enters her number, and hands your phone back to you. you stand there for a moment, your thoughts conflicting. you make up your mind, and quickly lay a light kiss on wanda's cheek before walking to your car. you will never know how that single kiss rocked wanda's world, and how it would soon lead to yours being turned upside down.

remember, asks and requests are open! i love to hear from you guys! <3

[stargirlrchive]

folklore: peace ✩ jake sully

masterlist ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ folklore masterlist

summary: widowed!jake sully x female!reader, no use of y/n, angst, marriage of convenience, mentions of death, TW!! eluded to death due to child birth, less angsty than previous chapter but she’s still sad :(

word count: 2,855

sa’nok (n) - mother ; ‘ite (n) - daughter ; ‘itan (n) - son

comments: hi bbys! i love this chapter sm! already started working on the third so it should be up in a few days <3 hope you all enjoyyyyy love u bye!!! ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 

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- pandora, omitikaya forest, 2167 -

The years had melted away quickly, your heart no longer yearned as it once had for the life you could have had because you were content with the life you lived. Everyday that passed your love grew for the children, though it was an easy task to begin with. From Neteyam to Tuk, you were sure Eywa had blessed Jake and Neytiri with the calmest babes. Before you knew it five years had passed.

Memories from the past years fluttered your mind as you readied yourself for the celebration that would be held for the clan shortly.

Lo’ak and Kiri had instantly found comfort in you as they missed their mother. You had always been around, you and Neytiri were practically attached at the hip and you had joined her and Jake during every birth of their children. They were still not quite old enough to understand why Neytiri was not around, but your constant presence eased the yearning a bit. They both had already seen you as somewhat of a mother figure so the transition did not affect them as much. Your bond with the two seven year olds was strong from the start.

As the years passed Kiri enjoyed watching you work as you healed her father or brothers. She especially appreciated it when she suggested certain alternatives to ease the pain for the wounded and you listened. She adored the fact that she had three mothers, how you talked about Neytiri and kept her spirit alive. Besides your constant presence, that was always comforting and warm, your respect for Neytiri was felt even in the way you spoke of her. As if she was still physically around.

Lo’ak was the wild card, which had been a big shock as when he was a tiny child he was always so quiet. Often playing by himself or wanting to be dotted over by you. For the first two years he was the one that clung to you quickest, and as you coddled him to get him to sleep he would mumble out that your skin felt like Neytiri’s and the sleep would instantly find him. Even now as his rebellious nature reached an all time high and Jake would scold the young boy he found solace in you. You were the gentler parent out of the two and anytime a scolding was too rough on him he’d find himself unable to part from you. You comforted him in a way he only vaguely remembers Neytiri had.

Unfortunately for Tuk she had no recollection of Neytiri, her love for you knew no limit because in her eyes you were her mother. The one she cuddled into if she had a nightmare, the only one she let braid her hair. You were everything to the small girl. Her favorite time with you was when all her siblings were gone and she had you all to herself, you taught her how to make necklaces and weave baskets, all while you told her stories of Neytiri and Jake. She felt Neytiri everywhere, she knew she was around and felt the love her mother had for her through you.

All the children had grown to love you, but it was hardest on Neteyam as he was almost nine when you stepped into the role. But his appreciation for you grew each day as he realized how much you cared for him and his siblings.

It was evident even now, just yesterday he completed his Iknimaya and you were the first person he ran to. He nuzzled into your embrace as he recalled everything that happened with his Ikran before he made the bond. “Sa’nok! Dad said I claimed my Ikran faster than he did!”

You felt like something had tugged at your heart as you stared at the tall boy, he had never called you mother before. “Oh my sweet boy, I am so proud of you!”

Your thoughts were cut short as someone behind you cleared their throat, you jumped lightly as you turned to look at who had entered the home. It was Jake. “Hello, Jake.”

You turned back to what you were doing, mixing the white paste to create a paint. Things had never really changed between you and him, just a comfortable routine. He respected you in the way a mate should, same for you. But neither of you really went past being cordial with one another despite the longing feeling that nestled into your heart at your close proximity with the Olo’eyktan. But that was all it was, a feeling that was fleeting then hit you all at once, one that you had pushed so far back you didn’t even know what you felt for the man. “I came to see if you were ready, the clan is ready to begin celebrating.”

Your fingers dipped into the paste and you painted four lines on each side of your upper arms, “I will be ready shortly, you can go on.”

Jake sighed quietly, he had been feeling awkward around you lately. He couldn't place exactly what it was but the feeling was burrowing deeper into his chest as the weeks went on. “I think it is best if we enter together. We always do so, it might make everyone think something is wrong.”

Your brows furrowed together in confusion but you did not comment on it. Your fingers continued to paint gently across your collar bones and up your throat all the way to the plump of your bottom lip. You adjusted the intricate feathered loin cloth, one that was far too fancy for a regular day but it sat nicely on your frame for the party that was sure to last most of the night and well past eclipse. Your top was covered in gold and emerald beads and sat high on your chest, your torso was exposed more than usual and Jake found it hard to look away.

He swallowed uncomfortably as you looked at him, “Ready?”

You did not wait for him to respond and made your way outside of the tent, walking past families who were making their way towards the large clearing in High Camp. Jake followed behind you, the sound of the beads distracting him slightly as he tried to keep up with your swift steps.

As you both entered the clearing it was filled with loud chatter, the music even louder as you felt the vibrations on your feet. The trees surrounding the premises were decorated with vines and leaves that glowed under the fire, “This will be good for the clan.”

You were smiling as your steps slowed down, walking besides Jake towards the center of the room. Each Na’vi you passed sent both you and Jake a peaceful smile, greeting you properly as you both motioned the greeting back.

“Yes it will. It will be some form of distraction from what has been happening with the Sky-people.”

“Hopefully.”

After you had settled into your seat, Jake began his speech. Congratulating the young warriors, naming each of them one by one. He reminded them of the responsibility the mantle held and how honorable and important their role was within the clan. They were reborn and accepted as adults and they would now assimilate to the needs of the clan. He let Mo’at take over as she guided a prayer to Eywa, the clan in complete harmony as they sent their gratitude to the Great Mother.

Jake chimed in moments later, “Let the celebration begin!”

The music picked up again, laughter and loud chatter filled the space. Your ears twitched slightly as Neteyam made his way towards the two of you. A nervous smile on his face, the words tumbling out of his mouth, “I am not expected to find a mate tonight, right?”

Your hands flew to your mouth as you tried to stop yourself from laughing. Neteyam had never brought that topic up to you and as you turned to look at Jake you figured he had not done so with him either. His cheeks were a dark purple, clearing his throat as he looked for the words to say, “No-why would you think that, ‘itan?”

Neteyam’s shoulders visibly relaxed as he shrugged, “That is all people keep telling me to do now.”

“Do not worry about that now, go have fun.”

Neteyam smiled at you, sending another one to his father as he retreated back to his friends, “Eywa, I did not think we would have had to have that conversation for another few years.”

Jake laughed quietly, “Neither did I.”

The next few hours went by smoothly, the clan had come together and everyone’s hard work was evident with the energy surrounding you. There was a change in music and everyone began making their way towards the center. It was a traditional dance all Na’vi knew and it was one of your favorites.

You sighed quietly as everyone lined up, mind drifting as you imagined what your life would’ve been like. If you would be dancing with your mate who loved you? Who would be sitting besides the Toruk Makto? If you would have had kids yourself already. A sadness you had not felt in a long time began to wrap around your heart. You blinked back the tears that pooled at your eyes as you watched everyone begin to dance.

Jake was about to comment on Neteyam and Lo’ak being dragged to dance but the words were cut short as he saw your watery eyes. He had not seen that look in your face in a very long time, sadness and longing and he felt something tug in his chest. He noticed how your head slightly moved to the sound of the music, your eyes glazed over as you watched everyone dance and laugh. Before Jake could stop himself he was up, “Come.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as Jake towered over you from his standing position, “Let’s dance.”

You were not sure why the request shocked you so much, but it did. Your eyes widened as you looked around, not believing he was talking to you. “You want to dance? With me?”

He rolled his eyes lightly, grabbing your wrist as he pulled you up from your seat, “Yes-now let’s hurry.”

Jake made haste as he dragged you along and your mind raced as nerves bubbled in your chest. There was a time, maybe two years back where your feelings for Jake had begun to confuse you. It stemmed out of loneliness and even though you did not want to admit it, attraction. It was hard, you were sad and though you had love poured onto you from the kids and the clan, there was always something missing. Some hole that was never filled.

And it scared you, caused the guilt to eat at your soul because of Neytiri, and you promised you would never let your emotions consume you that way, not for Jake. This was far too close and far too intimate, something that you had never felt with the Olo’eyktan. You were pressed side by side as body’s moved around the two of you. Your hands and hips swaying to the music as they moved in the routine you knew like the back of your hand. Your eyes locked onto Jake’s neck, you did not want to reach his eyes as both of your hands extended towards him, ghosting over his chest as your hands ran up and down. You could feel the warmth of his skin and it caused a shiver to run up your spine, trying to focus on anything but him.

Your skin erupted into goosebumps as his hands fell to your waist, moving them gently side to side to the beat of the music that was pounding in his ears. Your skin was soft, and his fingers were calloused, moving up the side of your ribs and extending them to your hands as they moved. It bothered him that you would not look at him, his head was tilted slightly as his eyes raked all over your form. Cheeks flamed a dark hue as the sound of your beaded top distracted him once again. He looked up and his eyes finally locked with yours, and it took him back a bit.

Your gaze was soft, almost shy like you had no idea what to do with yourself and he felt the exact same why. Every graze of your fingers that touched against his skin felt like fire running through his skin. It felt so foreign and he hated that he didn’t want it to end. He was wishing the song would go on for hours because he’s never had you this close, didn’t know if he’d get to again. This feeling was new and all consuming, he was scared.

The song ended and everyone stilled, it felt like someone had thrown ice cold water on him as he stared at you. A gnawing feeling clawing at his chest as he locked eyes with you again. Guilt.

He felt the need to apologize, as if he made you two cross a line you both never had before. Before he could, you turned stiffly away from him and made your way back to your seat next to Mo’at.

-

The night progressed and the sun was starting to cast a pink hue over High Camp, the crowd was still in full swing but with Mo’at deciding to retreat you did the same. Tuk was curled into you, deep in sleep as you adjusted her to begin the walk back to your family tent.

Your eyes quickly scanned around looking for the other three kids, Lo’ak and Netyam were with Jake, laughing about something he had said. Your eyes briefly locked with his as you were turning to look for Kiri.

She sat beside other young Na’vi girls, singing along to the music that was still playing. You began to make your way through the clearing, soothing Tuk’s back as she moved around in your arms, the poor girl was so exhausted. “Something is wrong between you and JakeSully.”

You turned to look at the Tsahik, she did not spare you a glance as she kept walking, “There is nothing wrong between us.”

“Yes there is, do not lie to me. The Great Mother speaks to me, gives me signs and something has been wrong since your union. She is unhappy.”

Fear gripped at your throat, you swallowed to try and ease the burn that began to burrow there. “You do not act like a mated couple. You both act as if you know nothing of each other. No kids either? Do you not want your own?”

“I am perfectly content with the life I have, Mo’at. And I have four children already, that is more than enough for both Jake and I.”

“You are just content? A union with your mate should not make you feel content, you should feel euphoric, happy, loved.”

You felt anger bubble in your chest at the older woman, she had no right to comment on what your life ended up being. All the things she felt you lacked were her doing, she planted the idea of the union, she pushed you and Jake to come together in a way neither of you ever wanted to. “What do you want me to say Mo’at? That I would gladly sacrifice myself for Jake to live a happy life with his kids? That nothing makes me happier than when he comes home and he is not injured or in pain? Do you want me to shout it out for the entire clan to hear? That I lov-”

Your ears pinned back as the words almost slipped from your tongue, your tail twitched in fear. Mo’at froze as she realized it was hard for you to even get the words out. “That you love him?”

She noticed small tears pooled in your eyes, “What is wrong, ‘ite?”

“Nothing is wrong, I told you already.”

Her eyes shifted behind you, you blinked the tears away, “Ah-JakeSully.”

You continued the short distance to your tent, Tuk feeling heavy in your arms as your whole body felt like it was going to cave in. Jake and the rest of the kids followed in shortly as you laid Tuk down.

Tears fell freely down your eyes as you stared at the small girl, trying your hardest to blink them away, “You should’ve had me bring her.”

You wiped at the tears quickly, “I was tired, I wanted to come home already and figured the four of you still wanted to be out.”

Jake’s hand gripped at your forearm, stopping you from leaving him again. His face was filled with concern as he scanned over your face. “Why are you crying?”

More tears fought to leak but you blinked them away, “Just one of those days. Peace of mind has been difficult for me to find lately.”

You removed your arm from his, something had shifted between the two of you and it scared you. You wanted no part of it.

🏷️ ; @luvlykrispy​ @fanboyluvr​ @daydreamer2k​ @tonowarii​ @mrs-sullys-blog​ @cupidddd-d​ @iamparou​ @myheartfollower​ @cwufst​ @cleverzonkwombatsludge​ @gandalfsbathwater​ @tonysslut​ @ch0nky-child​ @irisskies​ @bobojojoba69​ @sseleniaa​ @perseny​ @stargirl-ghostiesss​ ; i tagged who i could, some @’s were not working for me, pls lmk if you would like to be added <3

[or0ch1maru]

Could you write an angst to fluff fic where mihawks wife gets injured and maybe he's like depended on her and now he has to manage while she is maybe in a comatose state with a happy ending

hiii babes :3

I would just like to start this by thanking all of who wished me a happy birthday yesterday. My day at work was great, and I gifted myself 2 pairs of hello kitty sneakers ^.^

Warnings: none

Let’s get into it🫵🏻

•

-you and Mihawk met a few years back. Running into each other after being set after the same bounty. And neither of you have looked back since.

-married life has been great, your husband being the absolute best man. Treating you with such care, love, and respect.

-both of you sharing the household duties, cleaning, cooking, laundry, etc.

-Mihawk always called you his sunshine, as no matter what, you always brought light into his heart. Which, over time, caused him to be more and more open about his past, and, his feelings

-which many would say is rare. No one living long enough to see any other type of reaction from him besides his usual stoicism

-but you, you got it all and a part of him knew he’d become dependent on your love that he’s not really sure to handle the situation he finds himself in currently

-both of you got called to handle a rather ‘difficult’ bounty as the marines put it. And things were going well until your opponent got the upper hand on you

-causing you to miss calculate your neck move and resulting in you being in a comatose state.

-Mihawk’s private doctor said you’ll come out of it, it just depends on when. He unfortunately wasn’t sure. It was a waiting game

-you had your own private room set up in the castle, being hooked up to this and that. A nurse would come by everyday to check in on you and handle a few things

-Mihawk would stand in the doorway every time like clock work. Watching as she tends to you

-it’s only at night, when it’s just you and him that he sits in the chair beside your bed and talks to you. He’s unsure if you can hear him but he doesn’t care. He speaks all his worries, about how much he misses and needs you. Scared that he won’t be able to do this much longer without you

-explaining that he’d wait as long as you need for you to come out of this. As long as he gets to hear your voice, witness your smile, be able to feel you touch and hug him back

-during the day, he keeps himself busy. Cleaning, reading, paperwork, more reading, going into town to shop, buying things for you, anything to keep his mind preoccupied

-he has good days and bad, most of them blending together

-poor guy has used dissociating to get through most of this as he truly doesn’t know how to come to terms without you

-the castle is too quiet, he misses hearing your sweet voice bouncing off the walls when you call for him, or when you come bounding down the hallway towards his office to ‘annoy’ him

-when he’s tossing and turning in your shared bed, he has one of your shirts or hoodies with him. One that has the scent of your perfume lingering on it. Which eventually gets him to sleep

-now, today has been a particularly difficult day for Mihawk. Marines constantly on his ass, giving him shit for not handling every single bounty they’ve been giving him. It annoys him as they know of his personal situation and don’t show any sort of respect towards it

-so by the time he gets back home, his mood is sour. He stands in the doorway, watching you as the nurse tends to you once again

-“any change?” He asks, and even though he already knew the answer. Watching the nurse shake her head and reply with her usual “no, I’m sorry”, is when the damn breaks

-no one has seen him cry, you witnessed a single tear roll down his cheek the day you two wed but that’s it

-he waits until the aid is gone for the night and that’s when the tears come flowing. Hard, and heavy.

-he’s sitting at his desk, his chest heaving as he tries catching his breath, and every time he thinks he’s calming down, more tears come

-Mihawk doesn’t realize it’s a panic attack, as it’s his first time experiencing one since he was a boy

-this goes on for hours, before he eventually falls asleep at his desk, his forehead resting against his forearms. A single hand resting on the photograph he keeps on his desk

-but he’s jerked awake around 3am. At first he thinks it’s a dream when he heard your voice from the room next door

-but when he hears a choked “baby?” He almost falls from his chair

-he wastes no time running into the room you’ve been treated in all this time

-and that’s when he sees you. Your eyes open, a look of confusion on your face as you take in the tubes you’ve been hooked up too

-“my love?” Are the first words that fall from his mouth and he nearly collapses when you look over at him. A small smile forming on your face when you see your husband

-as bad as he wants to run over to where you’re laying and hug you. He keeps himself composed. Approaching the bed slowly, sitting down beside you

-his large hand engulfs yours. His thumb rubbing circles against the inside of your wrist.

-after asking if you’re okay, and giving you some water, he catches you up on everything that’s happened the entire time you’ve been out

-you can see the toll this has taken on him and you feel horrible. You’re so used to your strong and composed husband, that seeing how stressed his been breaks you

-your free hand comes up, cupping his cheek. Something you’ve done during the entirety of your relationship. He instinctively nuzzles into your palm and that’s when he begins to cry

-you’re slow with your movements, being careful as you sit yourself up before having him climb onto the mattress beside you. Your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him against your side as you hold him

-listening to his broken sentences of how scared he’s been and unsure.

-he stays there for a long time before lifting his head to look at you. Pressing his lips to yours after not feeling you kiss back in what felt like forever to him

-“maybe it’s time that I retire.” You murmur against his lips before kissing him again. You’d hate to have something like this happen a second time.

-you never liked seeing your husband worried, let alone about yourself.

-“I think I might just join you.”

•

Okayyyyyy so it’s been a while since I’ve written any angst so I apologize if this isn’t great😭😭

[villainofmyownstory]

Day Zero chapter 3

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pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x plus size fem!reader

summary: Meeting another person after 2 years of loneliness was not supposed to be like this.

tags: AFAB reader, plus size reader, dog german shepherd, alcohol, weapon

author's note: I don't know... I'm not satisfied with this chapter. I think I reread it and edited it too many times. From this chapter, what happens after days 730... will be in the present tense because, for example, in the next chapter we will return to day 64, of course it is described in the past tense, so it just seems logical to me. I'm not changing chapters 1 and 2, I hope you don't mind. I think I've been spending too much time on this story and I'm starting to think too much.

Thank you all for your positive feedback. You don't even know how much this means to me <3

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Chapter 3: The one when you met

Day 730

Ghost

There are plenty of things in this damn city that he will never run out of. When Ghost was left almost alone, with Riley by his side of course. Already in the first days, the man noticed that there were things here that would stay with him for the rest of his life. Even when he's gone, many of these items will remain in his warehouses for years to come.

Ironically, what he needed the least, alcohol and clothes.

He was never a demanding person. He didn't expect much from life. He was a rather simple man. A roof over his head, a supply of food, a place to train and peace of mind. So when he realized that this city was only his, he was very happy and satisfied. Not that he hated people. It was just better when they were as far away from him as possible. Somewhere in the background, preferably far from his sight and hearing. For many years he felt irritated by the closeness of another person. Of course, there were a few people who managed to get under the lieutenant's shell and understand his moods, behavior and motivations. However, there were few of them. That's right, they were.

In the army, he worked with several people. For many years he had no one outside of work. No family. No other relatives or friends. So when the captain sent him to a well-deserved rest after another long and hard mission. Ghost couldn't find his place for the first few days. He was simply irritated by mundane, everyday things. Going to the bank, store, clinic or even the gym. Too many people. Everywhere. Constant conversations, gesticulations. Noise.

Too much.

So he was grateful for the development of technology. When he could finally sit in front of his computer in the comfort of his own home and get things done in the office or via an app on his phone. The less contact with other people, the better. That's what he thought.

Now that Riley is missing, the soldier wonders about the meaning of his life. If the world had in some way done him a favor by removing other people from his surroundings, why did he have to take away the one being that made him feel alive. That his life has any meaning.

He wasn't a monster. Of course not. It wasn't like he was hoping for some kind of annihilation of humanity, that he would be the sole survivor on earth and be able to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. He just wanted some peace, on his terms.

However, he felt no sadness or regret as he patrolled the empty streets or checked another empty building.

He had lost too many loved ones in the past to grieve over nameless strangers now.

He shouldn't drink. He knows it perfectly well. Two years. 730 days of sobriety. He had promised himself that big day, he had promised Riley, that he would never feel that burning liquid in his throat again. So that he won't become such a madman when alcohol starts circulating in his system again.

So that he does not become his own father. He couldn't even think of this person as someone close to him. Disgusting creature. Reflective sadists. Sperm donor and that's it. Which should never have existed. He buried that monster a long time ago. Just like Ghost buried his own self.

Apart from losing Riley, this was the man's greatest fear in his life. That by drinking alcohol and getting closer to people, he would show them who he really was. That he was just like his twisted psychopathic father.

And he didn't want to be like that, he couldn't. He preferred to hide behind the façade of a domineering, boorish lieutenant in a mask. Pushing others away from himself. The further, the better. He didn't want to hurt anyone.

He preferred to be alone.

He wore a mask almost all the time. He hid his face from the world. He never showed his true self. He hid his identity and the man he was behind a piece of cloth.

Now that it was just him and the dog, he didn't have to cover his face.... And although sometimes in the morning he was looking for a black mask on the nightstand out of habit, he got used to the pleasant feeling of air on the skin of his face. If necessary, he placed a few masks here and there. Just in case someone, somehow showed up in his town.

Now, standing in the pantry with his heart pounding, he unhesitatingly reaches to the back of one of the shelves where he hid the alcohol.

He purposely hid the bottles in the back of the cabinets behind other things so that every time he looks here, he won't notice the colorful bottles at all.

So that nothing would tempt him.

Pulling out a bottle of bourbon, he moved the cans of food and didn't hesitate. He feels that if he does not immediately drown his sadness in a glass of amber drink, he will not be able to bear the pain of another loss. Looking at the label, he smiles to himself. Pappy Van Winkle's Family Reserve 15 years 107 proof*. Searching the homes of these rich people had some benefits. Rich motherfuckers who didn't know what to do with their money bought everything expensive. The more zeros in a line, the better.

When he returns to the office, he doesn't even look at the surveillance system.

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Day 731

Ghost

He lost himself. He drank himself unconscious. It was long after sunrise, it is even after noon.

“Dammit”

Ghost mutters, slowly getting up from the chair he fell asleep in a few hours earlier.

He should have been looking for the dog since dawn. He shouldn't give up. He shouldn't lose hope. However, when he lost sight of the dog, something inside him broke. It reminded him too much of the previous two times he'd lost loved ones. He lost control again. Something thwarted his plan. He lost his stability. Monotony, life according to plan.

Barely walking, tripping over his feet and knocking several things off the dresser, he reaches the bathroom. He doesn't care about anything anymore. Everything is the same to him.

When rinsing her face with water, he does not look at her reflection in the mirror. He can't look into his own eyes. Again, he directs his steps to the pantry. To get another bottle. Ghost has already lost count, another bottle to forget.

It didn't matter. It's just that nothing makes sense anymore.

Wobbling on his feet, he returns to the small room, sits in the chair at the desk and takes a few sips straight from the bottle. Regret - he finally feels it. Another sip. Drown, drown. And he only hopes that alcohol will soothe this feeling, that it will help him fill the void he feels after Riley's disappearance.

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Day 732

Ghost

Another day of drinking. Once he touched his lips and felt a sharp substance with his tongue. And he fell into a trance again. It was hard to break out of it. Constant drinking. Vicious circle. Another bottle and another. Let it burn, sting, hurt. Just to feel something. Physically.

Finally, as if something was calling to him, he struggled to get up from the chair and dragged the body to the kitchen, he decided he had to do something. Anything other than just sitting here. With a lot of thinking, wondering, blaming. He's not a victim, he's not. He has to look for the dog. Keep going. He can't show weakness. Even before himself. He felt a little embarrassed. That he gave up again. Too quick and easy. He looks at the mess he probably left behind the night he drunkenly tried to make himself something to eat.

“I'll deal with it later,” he muttered, heading towards the dressing room. Trying to keep his balance, he stops in the hall, next to the small surveillance room, and freezes.

One screen was active. Detected movement.

"Fuck..." Ghost is angry with himself, pissed off. That he hadn't thought about sitting in front of the screens and looking at the city earlier. But now wasn't the time to blame himself or dwell on the situation. He must finally take action.

Looking at the screen, the soldier can't believe his eyes. He not only sees his beloved dog on the screen. Who slowly walks through one of the streets. In the live footage, he sees a figure walking.

Person.

Alive.

Without thinking, he quickly runs to his room to change and grab his gun. It's definitely an ambush. No one in their right mind would wander in the middle of the street in a strange city in the middle of the day. With a dog by my side.

Bait.

Surely the rest of the group was waiting somewhere outside the city or on the roofs of buildings. He has to do something, he has to get Riley back. Adrenaline stimulates his body, his thoughts flow in one direction. Bring Riley home. Punish those who had the nerve to steal his dog.

He had never driven under the influence of alcohol, but he had no choice. It would take him too long to walk downtown, and he couldn't let the intruders get any closer to his house. Or worse, they'll leave town with his dog.

Besides, the only danger in driving a car in such an environment was himself. And he doesn't care about his own health and life.

Before leaving, he checks the camera again, the figure slowly approaches the City Hall building.

"Easy target" Ghost smiled, plenty of space to capture. He loads his gun and runs out the door as fast as he can, his fingers firmly wrapped around the sniper rifle.

While driving through the city streets, he tries to focus on driving straight, but at the same time he is constantly looking around for a potential threat. It definitely has to be a larger group, Ghost is expecting several people. To his surprise, however, he doesn't notice anything unusual.

Finally he stops and he leaves the car a few blocks from the town hall and starts walking towards it. He hopes he's not late. That the intruder and his dog hadn't moved too far.

There were rather low buildings near the town hall, so a block earlier he turned left and headed to one of the skyscrapers, from where he would have a better view. A better place to attack. However, there is no time to enter it. He freezes in place because he hears Riley barking and then a human voice. A woman's voice.

“Shit…”

He muttered through his teeth. Of course he might have expected a group of travellers to send a woman or a child out to scout. To stir up sympathy only to have someone lose their guard.

He has to play it differently. He looks around the street and decides to enter the restaurant on the corner, remembering that there is a passage inside and he will have a perfect view of the street where the town hall was located. As he walks through the abandoned building, he mentally curses himself for drinking so much. Adrenaline helps him focus and stay upright, but he fears what will happen if he ends up having to aim his gun. When he reaches the storefront overlooking City Hall, he freezes.

Woman pets Riley tenderly and happily says something to him.

Dog seemed to sense his presence because it sits on its hind legs and looks towards the building where the soldier is.

Without thinking, Ghost raises his gun and takes aim.

He must get the dog back and show the strange travelers that they cannot take what is his. That he is in charge.

Fractions of seconds. Ghost pulls the trigger, shoots. The woman falls forward. Without even realizing the threat standing in the dark building in front of her. She falls, but not from the shot. There is not a single drop of blood. No screaming in pain.

It was Riley who pulled her over. He saved her. He protected her from the bullet.

Assessing the situation, Ghost quickly leaves the building and continues to aim his gun at the lying woman.

He didn't expect this development, of all the possible scenarios that went through his head. He did not foresee, despite years spent on the battlefield, reading thousands of training materials.

That the dog would be against him and protect some random stranger.

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Day 732

You

Everything happens so fast that it is impossible to rationally connect the facts: the shot, Riley pulling the leash and the fall. So much, in a split second.

But the only thing that is echoing in your head right now is whether or not Riley is okay.

So you don't notice the massive, tall and masked figure slowly walking towards you... The first thing you should do is check the condition of the dog. Riley. That's all that matters to you. You sit on your lap and look closely at the dog.

“Riley, oh boy, are you okay? Show yourself".

You check the dog, and after making sure that the dog is alright, you find no trace of blood or the slightest injury. Relieved, you slowly get back to your feet. Straightening up, you finally see with horror the figure standing in front of you who wanted to shoot you a moment ago. And now it's starting to dawn on you what just happened. What is really happening and that you are in great danger. You open your mouth and then close it, repeating this action several times, you want to say something. But what can you say at a time like this? No words come out of your throat.

“Stand where you're standing and let go of the leash”

The masked man growls lowly, slowly turning his gaze from you to the dog, slowly stepping closer to the two of you.

“Raise your hands above your head and don't move.”

You shiver with fear, chills running through your body. The sound of a man's low voice, any human voice other than yours after many months. Weird feeling. Irrational.

After a while, you finally recover and slowly raise your hands.

“Let go of damn leash!”

You look at the man with fear. It occurs to you that this must be the same man who left the letter on the tower. Anyone else could be masked and not call themselves Ghost. He was tall, well built. He was dressed in tactical gear, a bulletproof vest and... a mask. This was no ordinary balaclava. A skull was attached to the material. The front part, with a fragment of the upper jaw, eye sockets, and forehead. It must have been a human skull. You involuntarily shiver harder in fear, trying to take a deeper breath. This was not what meeting another human being was supposed to be like. This wasn't what you expected.

Ghost will raise his gun higher, still pointing it at you.

“Riley. Heel.., come here"

He calls to the dog, breaking the terrible, prolonged silence. The confused dog stands up and takes one step towards the soldier. But he doesn't go any further.

“This… this dog is mine”

The words finally fall out of you, you muster up your courage and whisper, keeping your eyes on the man

“Don't take him away from me. Not again.”

“Your dog? I think you've got something wrong"

Ghost growled, clearly annoyed. His arm muscles visibly tense, this entire exchange makes no sense to him. Waste of time.

"Y-yes, he's mine..."

You start to say, trying to control the emotions you're feeling. You slowly lower your hands.

“I can prove it. Just let me”

Regardless of the fact that the gun is constantly pointed at you, you have to prove it to him and keep the dog with you. No matter what, at any cost. You want to reach into your backpack and take out that old worn-out photo that you still carry with you to this day. One of the few souvenirs you have kept from your past life.

“Hands up, damn it, I'm not playing any games. Give the dog back and leave town."

Ghost shouts, you can see that he is becoming more and more irritated by your behavior.

“You can take everything you find and leave my city. Riley stays where he belongs - with me."

You shake your head negatively, swallowing the lump in your throat, trying not to cry

“No, the dog is mine.”

“Oh, damn it, I don't have all day for unnecessary discussions. Tell your people not to come back here again. Or at least have the courage to show up in person and not send a woman. Pathetic".

As he says this, he finally lowers the gun and pats his thigh, trying to get the dog's attention.

“Riley! Heel!”

Thinking little, or probably not thinking at all, you reached into your backpack and opened the zipper, looking for a photo.

“Dammit, kid, you don't understand what I'm telling you. Leave the dog and fuck off."

You don't care anymore, if you were to leave this city without your dog, you'd rather die here. Now, at this moment.

You take out the photo, which you have carefully secured to prevent any further damage. You raise your hand, holding the photo, and try to stop it from shaking. Despite your emotions, you calmly say to masked man

"Look, this is my dog. Mine. Look, Riley's missing a piece of his ear. You see? Dog in this photo doesn't have it either…”

The man hesitates for a moment, but decides to approach and take a closer look at the photo in your hand.

“That doesn't prove anything,” Ghost starts to say, but you interrupt him

"What do you mean? How many dogs of this breed have such a wound? How many have a black collar with an engraving on the back, with the exact name and phone number?"

As you say this, you state what is written on his collar

“You could take this off him and read it.”

"How do I know there's something written inside?"

There was silence. Another long, tiring one. You looked at each other without saying a word.

The man was taller than you and towered over you, his broad frame creating a shadow above you, his dark eyes narrowing as he looked at you. As if he was trying to read what was going on in your head.

You feel a little dizzy. The whole situation was so strange, so surreal. This wasn't what my first conversation with another human being in two years was supposed to look like. This wasn't how the first meeting was supposed to go. At least it wasn't what you imagined.

There's something wrong with the man across from you. Weird, dark, terrifying. His attitude irritates you and something inside you finally breaks. You explode.

“Ghost, listen…”

You started, raising your voice slightly

“I don't know what your intentions are, why you're so defensive about this town and this dog. But I came here alone! ALONE! I haven't seen a living person in two fucking years. I don't understand what kind of travelers you're talking about and why you don't want to admit that this dog is mine. But... but I don't want to leave, not after finding Riley."

When you say this, you look at the dog that sat between you and the soldier. Riley lay down, as if he was also tired of all the strange interaction between two people he knew, through which he was confused.

Ghost remains silent, never taking his eyes off you, as if wondering what to do. Pros and cons.

Finally, the sound of the watch interrupts his persistent gaze, and the man sighs loudly, as if resigned, and says

“Let's just say… I believe you. Temporarily”

The man secures the gun and hangs it on his shoulder. Seeing this, an involuntary smile appears on your face.

“Come on, kid, it's late. We have to go” 

Ghost points to the sun, which is slowly starting to hide behind the buildings

"We'll finish this conversation somewhere else. Come on, both of you."

He waves his hand and points in the direction to go.

“Go ahead, I'll watch your back.”

The walk to the car doesn't take long, and you're glad that you won't have to walk another distance on your still scarred and aching legs.

"No way!"

You scream in shock when you see a large, dark pickup truck parked in the cul-de-sac.

“You have a working car! I couldn't find..."

Standing at the passenger door, a man interrupts you, stands next to the trunk and you open the hatch

“Riley, get in. You sit in the back too”

He points to the trunk of the pickup truck

"What? Are you kidding me?"

This man was behaving absurdly. You guess that years of loneliness made him unable to behave socially. He forgot what it was like to interact with another living person.

“Just. Get. In. And don't whine unless you want to walk to the tower. You know the way.”

The man looked at you without blinking.

“To the tower? Why are we going to the tower?”

You say in disbelief, letting go of another exchange of words, slowly climbing into the trunk and sitting down next to the dog. Ghost closes the trunk, making sure the dog is safe, and gets behind the wheel.

“We need to visit your companions. Since they're not in town, they're probably waiting for you there. You know my name, so you must have read the letter.”

As the car starts moving, you start to wonder if you did the right thing by getting into the trunk. Letting a stranger take you away, God knows where. There was something wrong with this man. He thought Riley was his and that you weren't coming to town on your own. Maybe he too, like you, has been living alone all these months. And he clearly couldn't cope with it. You hug the dog, just hoping that when you reach the tower, the man will finally believe you and let you stay.

Nevertheless, you did not want to be left on your own again. Only now did you feel how much you missed another living person. How much you needed to feel someone's presence. To know that you were not meant to live in isolation. You felt that the burden that had stuck with you through those many sleepless, weeping nights had finally fallen from your shoulders.

Maybe it was destiny.  This was your fate.

So, you accept it already.

Even if from now on, you will have to live with this strange, mysterious man in a mask.

taglist:

@leviathanleva @chocolate-noodles @vmaxis @poohkie90 @ghostlythots @nobodys-coffee @famouscattale @youdontneedtoknow1226 @pimpinsins @justguessfan @novasilvae @pausbirudanlumbalumba @ella2497

[otteropera]

Home (Jon Snow x Reader)

A/N - Only took me, what, like three months to finish this request? I kept coming back to it and re-reading and changing it but I finally FINISHED IT! The wonderful @pastanest requested this one so shoutout to her, if you are thirsting for Jon Snow (like me) GO CHECK HER OUT!!! She is an amazing writer and a wonderful person <3

Warnings - blood, RAMSAY BOLTON, violence... its game of thrones tbh

Word count - 5.7k

The fire had gone out weeks ago. No one who came in bothered to replenish it with wood, and I wasn't exactly in a position to do it, with my wrists chained to the floor. I'd had a lot of time to think about things. About my past, about Sansa, about what led me to this moment, about Jon.

I found that my mind went wandering to him quite often.

Nineteen years ago, after Robert’s Rebellion ended, many reunions were had. Fathers saw their children and wives saw their husbands. It was a sigh of relief for people who had their loved ones taken away, forced to fight the Mad King. My mother waited with baited breath, staring at the horizon everyday for months, praying to all the Gods that she would see him in the distance, finally returning to her. She held her budding belly with tears in her eyes, refusing to believe that she was living in a world without him.

She later passed away on the birthing bed.

If it weren’t for the wet-nurse that was able to arrive so quickly from a town over, I wouldn’t have made it. When word got to Eddard Stark that I was in fact alive, and without parents, he was quick to get me over to Winterfell. I don’t remember my life before the Starks, and I don’t have much of a need to. I befriended the Stark children and was welcomed into their home with open arms. My father gave his life in service to the realm, they felt it was the least they could do. From what Lord Eddard remembered of my parents, they were utterly and wholly in love.

Sansa and I clicked when we were younger. Although I was a few years older than her, we got along very well. We would brush each other's hair and put it in pretty braids, we'd giggle when the stable boys would flirt with us, and she would tease me for my crush on Jon. Once the two of us were of age, I was assigned as her lady-in-waiting. It was sort of like being Sansa's ‘official friend’, which wasn't hard. It really didn't change much; we got to spend all of our time together.

Sometimes, if I closed my eyes hard enough, I could go back to those days. When we were younger, we'd help sneak Arya out of her room and run down the corridors to the kitchen to steal any lemon cakes that were left from dinner. I was almost certain that Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn knew what we were doing, but let us have our fun when they heard the laughter from the kitchens late at night.

"What are you doing?"

Jon stood in the doorway, his mouth slightly agape, eyebrows furrowed. Arya, Sansa, and I stilled, crumb-covered mouths tightly shut. I wasn't sure if it was our lack of sleep or the definite sugar high, but Arya burst out laughing, spewing bits of cake over the table, while Sansa and I did our best not to copy her, covering our mouths and stifling our laughs. With my quick and shy glances to Jon, I could tell he was having a hard time keeping a smile off his face.

"I can't believe you guys," he said, shaking his head. "You're worse than Bran."

Bran was notorious for stealing sweets. I hoped that wherever Sansa had escaped to, she got to eat as many lemon cakes as she pleased. It had been months since she got away from Ramsay’s hold, and sometimes I wondered if she would leave me here for good.

It was an awful thing to think, I knew that, but Ramsey knew how to get under my skin (literally) and drill some awful things into my mind. I couldn’t begin to imagine what he’d done to Sansa. Thankfully, he could go days without bothering to torment me, which usually meant that I didn’t get to eat either, but I was more than willing to trade that for some time away from Ramsay. The room that I’d been confined to was small and drafty, from what I could guess used to be an extra storage room for food, with the old flour bags and rotting potatoes. They were my bed most nights. Though I have to admit, it’s a step up from the cell outside with the dogs. Ramsay had been keeping me there until Sansa found out and refused to eat until I was moved to an actual room. She even got me a makeshift fireplace in an old cooking pot.

I was convinced that the only reason I was able to stay sane was by staying in my mind. Thinking of ten years ago, when I was growing up here with Sansa, Arya… Jon. When I was safe and happy and took everything for granted.

There was some irony in it. The place that I grew up in, that allowed me to build the friendships and relationships that I had, that allowed me to be free of the pain of growing up without a family, was then the same place that kept me from being with mine.

The door creaked open, and in walked the man who had chained me here. Ramsay knelt in front of me, placing down a bowl of stew. One glance at it and I was salivating. Meat, potatoes, carrots, celery, all steaming gloriously in the bowl in front of me. That was… odd. I’m not one to turn down a hot meal, especially when I hadn’t eaten in days, but I knew the games Ramsay played. I knew that there was… something else to it. Ramsay sat on the floor across from me, with that sick little half-smirk.

“It’s rude to refuse food from the Warden of the North,” he commented, clasping his hands together in front of him.

“He didn’t put this in front of me. You did.”

Ramsay let out a dry laugh, not letting his smile fall. I only managed to get that look off his face once, and I paid for it. However, I still found myself accepting the challenge of knocking Ramsay’s ego down a peg.

“I see you’re in a fine mood today, that’s good,” he paused, “I have good news.”

That was saying something, coming from him.

“The bastard is coming.”

I froze at that. It took a moment to realize that that’s what he wanted, he always wanted to get a rise out of me. I refused to give him any satisfaction. I had to stop myself from meeting his penetrating stare.

“I’d spoken to him earlier, along with my dear wife,” his emphasis on the word ‘wife’ made me want to vomit. “They’ll be coming to Winterfell tomorrow to try to take it from me, with lesser men. And when they lose," Ramsay's voice got quieter as he leaned in towards me, "Sansa will watch me flay you living. She will watch me feed you to those dogs, she will watch as you die in that cell, screaming and bleeding. I will make her understand what happens to those she cares about when she betrays me." His pitch black eyes stared into mine as I tried to control my breathing. I didn’t think I'd ever truly, wholly, and honestly wished for someone to die a painful death as much as I wished it for that man. I swallowed harshly.

"Winterfell has never been yours. It never will be," I whispered. He leaned back, loosening up, but his eyes looked empty as ever. And he smiled some more.

“Jon sounded awfully concerned for you.” No. No. “I’m assuming Sansa had told him about your… conditions here.” That was a nice way to put being held prisoner in your own home. “I wasn’t aware that you two had such a history.” I shouldn’t have even looked at him. All the emotion that I was trying to hide, he saw right through. The more I spoke, or acted, or looked, the more leverage he had against me. It was an impossible struggle.

“Don’t worry,” he leaned closer, his breath hot and putrid. There was nowhere for me to go. “I won’t kill him before I let him see you,” he snatched my face in his free hand, his grasp firm and unwavering. I felt the cool tip of a knife rest on my cheekbone. “He will see just how you’ve been holding up.” He dragged the knife agonizingly slow down the bare flesh, I was sure I would pass out. “And he will see all that I’ve done to you.”

I didn’t eat the stew until after he left. The chains rattled as I reached forward for it, slugging from the bowl like an animal. I didn’t like eating while he watched. Something about it felt… humiliating. Like he was watching one of his dogs rip someone apart after not feeding them for weeks, like he was proud of the way he had starved me. I was sure he was. I was sure he would love to see me eating like it was the last meal I’d ever indulge in.

***

Jon was outside the banquet hall, in the courtyard, slashing away at a dummy with his sword. The mead sloshed in their cups as I stepped toward him.

"I think you won," I commented once I got within earshot. He turned around, his face lighting up at my presence just enough for me to notice, causing my face to flush. "I smuggled you out a drink," I outstretched one of the cups, which he took while catching his breath.

"What am I missing in there?" Jon questioned, referring to the dinner party with the King and Queen, taking a slug from the cup.

"Well... the King is drunk, Sansa's gushing over Prince Joffrey, and Arya just got in trouble for catapulting food at her," I explained. Jon chuckled at the thought of it. "So nothing new, as far as our dinners go."

Jon went quiet, surprisingly. He'd tend to have a lot to say when I was around. His gaze was fixed on the cup, lost in thought.

"Is everything alright?" I asked. I've known him to be a bit upset about being forbidden from dinners, but he was usually better at hiding it.

"There's something I've been thinking about, that I want to tell you," he breathed out. "I'm taking the black. I leave the same day as the royal party with my Uncle Benjen." His eyes were on mine. I felt... conflicted. I was happy for him, I knew he'd do well up at Castle Black, given his bravery and swordsmanship. I knew that we all couldn't stay in Winterfell forever, that we were growing up. However, something in me hoped that wherever Jon would go, I could follow. The bastard and the Lady's maid.

"I'm happy for you." Truly, I was. I knew he'd always been worried about making something of himself. He would never have lands or a title, so it made sense he would seek to prove his worth through service to the realm.

"Thank you." There was a hint of sadness in his voice.

"From what I've heard I'll be going to King's Landing with Sansa. Serving as her handmaiden."

Jon hummed in response. He seemed to have the same reaction to my news as I had to his.

"I'll write to you," he commented. I didn't even bother trying to hide my growing smile.

"I'll write back."

***

The days were cold, but the nights felt colder. Ramsay sent in a Maester to treat the wound that he inflicted. I was no use to him dead, of course. It was sore to the touch. Through the small, barred window in the room, I could see that the sun was setting, as it did every night, and as it will continue to do well after I die in that place.

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the throbbing pain in my face. It felt like it was on fire, which meant that my body was probably fighting an infection from the cut. Looking out my small window, the sunlight couldn't penetrate the clouds, leaving the sky a gloomy, milky gray.

Sometimes, when I was just waking up, I would forget where I was. I could open my eyes and be in King's Landing, with Sansa and Arya and Ned Stark. Or I could be waking up here in Winterfell, but in my own bed, in my own room, right across from Sansa's, how it used to be. Those moments were my favorite. When my mind was still fogged with sleep and I could swear that just yesterday I was reading in the Godswood with Jon. Sometimes I would see how long I could go before opening my eyes. It felt like when I did so, it cemented the pained reality of where I was, and who I was without. It's silly, really. No matter how hard I tried, I would still wake up surrounded by these four walls, in the same house that was no longer a home.

I must have dozed off again at some point, because the next time I rose I was awakened by the sounds of chaos outside. The window in my cell was far too high for me to see ground level out of, even if I wasn't chained. I had to use my hearing to discern what was happening.

The scrambling and shouting of soldiers, and a loud, rhythmic bang... bang... bang. It was coming from the front gate. Was... was it a siege? There was a shrieking of a creature that I couldn't name, and then more shouting and yelling, the clanging of swords. Then it stopped. I held my breath. It felt like ages until I could hear anything else.

Footsteps raced towards the door. I could hear muttering on the other side. There were two very different ideas of who could be coming to me at such a rush, one of which made bile rise in my throat.

"This has to be it, I know that he kept it locked and I remember it being by the kitchens," the sweet, feminine voice rushed out. I'd recognize her voice anywhere.

"Sansa?" My voice was hardly a whisper as I croaked out the name. I jumped when the door started shaking as though it was being kicked in. The chains clicked as I scrambled to stand up. Had they won? Was Winterfell back to the Starks? Was Jon here?

The door burst open and I locked eyes with the one who had been infiltrating my thoughts. He looked much more grown than I'd remembered. His dark, curly locks were pulled back with only a few strands in the front that had burst free. There were streaks on his face where dirt and blood had been haphazardly wiped away. Sansa engulfed me in a hug, pulling me in so tight I was sure she could tell just how little Ramsay was feeding me.

"I'm so sorry it took so long for us to get here, my escape wasn't planned, I would've never left without you if I'd known-"

"Sansa," I cut her off from her babbling, pulling back from the hug and holding her at arm's length. There were tears welling in her eyes, as well as mine. "It's okay, I'm okay." She let out a shaky breath, looking relieved I didn't resent her.

"Ramsay had the key on him." It took me a moment to realize what she was referring to, her and Jon's arrival had almost made me forget that I was still chained in the room. For the first time since she'd come in, she acknowledged Jon's presence by turning back towards him. He looked as though he'd just seen a ghost. To him, I guessed I might be one. He blinked a few times, seeming to snap out of his stupor and reached in his pocket, handing the rusty key over to Sansa. When the manacles fell with a clank to the floor, I felt like I could finally breathe. I rubbed the skin that was under them, it was red and irritated, which wasn't surprising.

"Are you hungry? I'll see what can be made.”

***

"It's for you." A boyish Jon stood at the foot of my bed, on unsteady feet, with a bowl of steaming soup in his hands. Even from the distance it smelled heavenly.

"You didn't have to, I was about to go to the kitchens," I complained, sitting up. Jon made his way around the bed, delicately placing the soup in my cold hands.

"Are you feeling any better?" I saw his hand start to move up as he asked the question, only to stop himself. Was he going to feel my forehead?

"A little," I lied, sipping from the side of the wooden bowl. The soup was hot and delicious; it had been prepared with herbs that were still growing outside. "Thank you."

"No need to thank me." He gave a small shrug but smiled anyway. "I'm just glad to see that you're eating again."

"Me too," I said, trying a spoonful this time. It was potato soup, my favorite. Had he known? Jon sat down next to me before continuing.

"I feel awful." I snapped my head up at his statement.

"Why? Are you feeling ill too?" I stammered, shifting under the furs. He chuckled through his nose.

"No," he sighed, "the stable hands warned me they were still training that horse, but I'd ridden her before and she was fine. I can't believe she threw you off like that, into the stream of all places." I had to suppress a smile, thinking back to the other day. Jon offered to teach me to ride a horse, as no one else would bother, and we'd spent the better part of a day out in the woods. It was the most fun I'd had in ages. Towards the end, my horse had gotten a bit fussy and, well…

Jon was quick to get my sopping wet figure back into the gates of Winterfell, but it wasn't quick enough to stop me from catching a cold. I truly didn't mind. Any time spent with Jon was valuable to me.

"Don't feel bad, it's part of learning... people fall. In streams, sometimes," I muttered towards the end.

Jon's face pulled into a smile at my comment. "Well, let's hope your second attempt at riding doesn't involve a broken bone or two."

***

Potato soup. I was sitting in front of a crackling fireplace, wrapped in furs, with a bowl of hot potato soup that conspicuously arrived. In that moment I wondered if I truly had passed away at Ramsay’s hand, if that was real, if I was just dreaming, still locked in the room.

I knew that I should eat, but the hollowness of my stomach made the food smell less than desirable. Sansa hadn't left my side since she'd unlocked the chains and brought me into the room, going on about the past few months. I hadn't said much.

"How do you feel? You’re quiet,” she bit her lip. 

My throat hurt, it was dry. I swallowed hard, clearing it before answering.

“Okay. It's just so good to be warm." I had no idea how long I'd been cold. I often stayed balled up in that room, as tight as I could. I tucked my extremities into myself and dreamed of the sun. I took a breath and brought the bowl to my lips.

"Jon was shocked to hear you were still alive." I almost choked on the soup. Sansa smiled, one that looked devilish. "I knew you were close when we were younger, but I wasn't expecting him to react how he did," Sansa thought out loud.

"How did he react?" My curiosity got the best of me. I set the bowl down on the small table next to me.

"I'd told him soon after Brienne, Poddrick, and I arrived at Castle Black," I quirked my head at the names, but she was too consumed in her story to notice, "that you were still at Winterfell. He was furious, he wanted to come straight here, but I wouldn't let him." Sansa looked down, wringing her hands. "I convinced him to wait, to gather more men. Otherwise it would have been a slaughter."

I put my hands on hers, her glossed eyes met mine.

"You did the right thing," I reassured her. I knew she felt guilty for not getting here sooner, but she did what was best. I'd feel worse if they'd come sooner, and Ramsay's threats rang true.

"Rickon-" Sansa choked a sob, "h-he-"

I shushed her and put my arms around her shoulders. I'd seen some Winterfell men carrying his body through the gates on our way to this room. "I know," I whispered, shedding tears of my own. I didn't dare ask her how he died, I knew enough. That it was by Ramsay's hand, without a doubt.

We sat for a while longer, both comforted by the silence. The warmth of the fire and the contentment of the soup helped me relax. I realized that I'd been clenching my teeth, so I released them. I'd been in an awful lot of pain the past few months. The wound on my face would leave a plump scar, that I was sure of. Our silence was interrupted by a few maids entering with warm buckets of water for a bath. The mischievous smile on Sansa's face told me she had planned that. It wasn't until the maids had filled up the tub and left that I got the courage to ask the question that was lingering in my mind.

"Where's Jon? I haven't seen him since..." since I was freed from my cell? Since I saw him for the first time in years? Since he looked at me and his stare penetrated my being?

"I believe he's with some of the men of Winterfell, gathering up any survivors of Ramsay's men in the castle," she replied, giving me a look. She knew why I asked. I could only imagine what Jon was doing to Ramsay’s men "I'll leave you to it," she stood, her long furs flowing down to her ankles. It was then that I realized this room was intended to be mine. "I'm sure a bath is just what you need." I nodded in response, and she swiftly exited the room.

***

Jon hissed and pulled back slightly at the damp cloth I held against his temple.

"I have to clean it, Jon," I pleaded.

"I know," he breathed out. "It stings." I could see the pain in the way he scrunched up his face.

"I’m sorry." His eyebrows scrunched together at my apology, his eyes locked to mine. I could hear the wheels turning in his head.

Jon and I had a silent understanding of each other. While we had different reasons for being at Winterfell, we were both seen as slightly less-than the Stark children. Of course, I wasn't scolded by Catelyn nearly as much as Jon was. However, we were both instructed to stand behind the Stark's during the Royal family's arrival, never with them. While Jon was told not to attend the feast at all, I was tasked to stay at Sansa's side.

We noticed these differences, we saw them at a very young age, and we protected each other. We looked out for one another in an unspoken pact, that was shown by Jon walking me to my chambers late after the sun went down, and my defending him when Catelyn was always too harsh.

"Jon, I was fine. Those stable boys didn't cause me any harm."

"They were throwing cow shit at you," Jon blurted out. I had to suppress a grin, he was fuming. 

"Well, they didn't have very good aim," I muttered. Jon returned his hardened gaze to the gloves that were clutched in his hand, he must not have found my comment very funny.

"Eddard and Catelyn will have an earful for you, you know. Especially Catelyn." He turned away from me.

"I know," he said quietly, "those boys didn't put up much of a fight," Jon pulled my hand down, and grasped it in his. "I'd do it again." My heart fluttered and I swallowed hard.

***

I recalled the memory in the bath. It was so vivid, his warm hand gripping my fingers, his eyes locked on mine and saw everything inside them. It was the first time he ever offered to defend me like that.

I had scrubbed myself too hard in the bath and opened the wound on my face. I stayed in the water until it turned murky and cold. I wanted to rid myself of every piece of Ramsay, though I knew it wouldn’t be possible. At least, not for a long time. My only motivation for exiting the bath was the small trickle of blood down my face. After drying off and dressing, I exited the chamber and made my way to what used to be Maester Luwin’s space. Surely, there would be a healer of some sorts there.

It was dark outside, the moon shone bright above. A chill breeze blew through the halls. I pulled my furs tighter against me and walked to the door, opening it. There was no one inside. The room was littered with medical supplies, my best guess was whatever Maester was here had been out tending to any wounded men from the battle. Though I'd patched up Arya's scrapes and scratches from playing too rough with Bran before. With the supplies here, I could fix myself up. It took me a moment of fumbling through the shelves and drawers to find a healing balm in a small wooden bowl. The smell of it reminded me of Maester Luwin. His hands were always covered in the minty salve.

The sound of footsteps coming down the hall startled me, and I nearly dropped the bowl. A soft knock sounded on the door, and I was almost certain I knew who it was. I didn't waste a moment, rushing to the door and opening it. Jon was standing in front of me, his dark hair smoothed back, the moonlight made shadows dance across his face. He wore a plain black tunic with his cloak over it. The air rushed from my lungs. It couldn't have been more than a few moments, standing there, gazing at each other. But I felt like I could spend the rest of my days looking into his warm brown eyes, and I would be content.

"You stopped writing back." There was a hint of amusement in his words, the type that only someone who'd known him well enough could pick up on. I did.

I didn't bother trying to hold back the smile and the tears as we engulfed each other. His arms felt strong and real. One of his hands held me at the back of my head, pulling me so close to him that there was no room for doubt. His breath felt warm on my neck, sending a dance of shivers down my back. I sniffled, holding onto him with every part of me. We stayed together like that for what seemed an eternity.

Finally, he broke our embrace, keeping his hand on the back of my head, holding it, holding me. "I've missed you."

My lips quivered when I spoke, unable to form the right words. "I... I've missed you too." There were so many things I wanted to tell him, so many stories and so many people that I'd met, but he looked at me so intently that words fell flat on my tongue.

He held my gaze and I was sure I'd burst into flames. "How are you?" he asked softly. "Are you hurt anywhere else besides there?" His calloused thumb brushed just below the cut on my face. By the gods, I must’ve been a thousand shades of red.

He'd gained a few new scars himself, his face was littered with them. The little nicks in his skin and the dark shadows of his face made him look so... mature. He was no longer the boy who's cheek I'd pecked before he left for the Night's Watch. "No," I said quietly, wringing my hands. "Nothing serious. Just cuts and bruises."

"That's serious," he started analyzing me, trying to find any, "it's you." I smiled again.

"Come here." He dropped his hand from me, closing the door behind him. I immediately missed the warmth he brought to my skin. I turned to follow him, and saw that he was already holding the bowl of salve. With feather light touches, he began to apply to the wound on my face. It stung at first, if only for a moment, but once the minty coolness took effect, I let out a breath of relief. I hadn't realized I closed my eyes until Jon placed his fingers under my chin, tilting my head sideways to get better access to the cut. When I opened them, they found his. The downward curve of his brow told me something.

"What's wrong?" I asked. My voice cracked a bit, and I cleared my throat.

Jon shook his head, leaning back against the wooden desk. His gaze fell to the floor. "I wanted to come sooner, but we didn't have the men," his soft brown eyes followed the curve of the wound down my face, "I'm sorry." For a moment, I thought I saw a wetness in his eyes.

A lump formed in my throat, and I swallowed hard. "For what? Winterfell is back to the Starks. You did what you had to do."

His expression softened. "I know," he said quietly, "I don't think I can thank you enough for keeping Sansa safe the past few years." He reached out to brush the hair away from my forehead, and I could feel the heat radiating off his hand. "She told me everything. About Joffrey, Baelish... Ramsey." He spat out the last name with venom as his jaw hardened.

"Is he...?" I didn't need to finish asking the question for Jon to understand.

"Sansa put him with his hounds. I don't imagine he'll be there much longer."

I knew exactly what that meant, and a breath of relief left me, one I never knew I was holding in. Though I'd felt relieved, I knew that it wasn't the end of Ramsay's torment. He would continue to haunt the darkest parts of my mind. I would continue to have nightmares where his touch was everywhere, and no matter what I did or said, I couldn't shake him off of me. I'd only experienced a fraction of what Sansa had from him. I couldn't imagine what she'd been going through. She was stronger than me, that I knew for certain. I made a mental note to talk to her about, at the very least let her know that I was willing to, if that was what she chose. Jon's warm hand on my arm pulled me from my thoughts. He was looking at me, expectantly.

"What?"

"I asked if you'd like me to walk you back to your room," his voice was laced with concern.

I tried not to show how his offer made my heart squeeze. I nodded. We walked side by side through the castle halls, silent except for the occasional murmur of voices drifting around us. Once or twice, we passed another person, but neither of us acknowledged their presence. The silence was nerve-wracking. It didn't take long before we reached my room, a small smile tugging at his lips. I stopped short outside the doors, turning to face him. He was right behind me.

"Was the potato soup any good?" Jon asked, and it took only a moment before it clicked in my head.

"That was you?"

"So it's still your favorite, I take it?"

"I-... yes."

Jon smiled and nodded his head slightly, stepping back. He was starting to leave. A burning ache ran deep inside me. I felt myself longing for him, although he was right in front of me. "Jon..." I paused. His presence was doing that thing again where it made it very hard for me to speak. I needed him to say something. Anything. So when he said nothing, I continued. "Would you... stay, for a little while? Please?" I finished lamely.

It was all the encouragement he needed to step forward and set his hands on either side of my face. His thumb rubbed along my cheekbone and up toward my hairline, making me shiver. His eyes flew back and forth between mine, looking for permission that he always had. He nodded delicately, pulling me in and pressing a kiss to my lips. It was so soft, so gentle, so tentative. But even that small moment made my stomach twist into knots and my knees go weak. I closed my eyes, savoring the feel of his lips on mine, letting the lingering feelings of the past few months melt away. It didn't matter that there was still so much to be said, so much to figure out and plan with the retaking of Winterfell. Things would melt into place, as I melted into him.

Ramsay had left his mark on me, literally and figuratively. And maybe he would continue to live in the parts of my mind that he clawed out space for, but Jon never needed to claim space for himself. He had it earlier when he kicked down the door to my cage, when he hugged me tightly goodbye the day he left for Castle Black, when he showed me that smile that always turned my insides to mush, and every time in between. All without having to ask for it. He was slowly filling it with warmth, with love. With life. So maybe Ramsay had some part of me, one that I may never get back... but those parts were all Jon’s, and I'd always treasure them.

As his lips moved against mine, I realized I’d made it. 

I finally felt like I was home.

Tags: @pastanest @nyotamalfoy

[levis-coffeecup]

chapter 29| Turning Page

WC-6.5k

Summary

The underground is filthy and dark. Dim lights, dull alleys, and desperate hearts. A place Levi knows as well as the back of his hand, and a place he would do anything to get out of.

Chapters of life roll by and with the turn of a page, things drastically change. In front of him is the opportunity to live on the surface. And the flimsy bridge that he has to cross. From an uncivil criminal to a disciplined soldier.

But life on the surface seems tougher amidst all the mockery, civilities, and the gaping hole left in his heart, after the demise of his dear friends Isabel and Farlan.

Content/Warnings

canon- compliant, canon-typical violence, spoilers for No Regrets OVA, descriptions of PTSD, grief, depression, heavy angst and themes, strong language, self-hate, physical assault.

Author’s Note

OMG hiii guysss!

Can't believe that this is the last chapter!! There's so much gratitude in my heart right now. This has been a long long (irregular🤡) ride, and I'm grateful to everyone who's sticked around!

I've tried my best to write an amazing chapter since its the last, which is why this got so delayed. (And I might also have been overworked to the core at work lol ) But there's going to be a long ass note at the the end of the chapter about everything!

Song for the final chapter is by Turning Page by Sleeping at Last!

I hope you enjoy it as much as I've enjoyed writing it.

Chapters

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23

Masterlist | Playlist | Other Works

APRIL 857

It’s an hour past 12, and Levi sits on his balcony looking at the midnight sky.

The thick veil of pollution prevents the stars from being visible. Instead there's street lights and high beams from cars, twinkling on the ground.

He misses the stars from Paradis. It was the first thing he fell in love with once he came to the surface. And he wonders, whether Mae is looking at the stars and thinking of him as well?

The world outside the walls is beautiful.

There are soaring cathedrals that almost reach the sky, and beautiful temples with the most intricate architecture. There’s snow capped mountains and beautiful cherry blossoms. And everyday, from his tiny balcony, he gets to see the sun sink below the sharp silhouette of the towers.

He’s getting to experience the world his comrades died for.

But as beautiful the outside world is, it isn’t home

The development of technology seems unfamiliar. And the people around him haven’t lived their entire lives caged in fear. These people don’t know the cost of freedom.

It has been so long since he’s been back home.

It’s been so long since the Rumbling too.

The earth was left razen. Mountains crumbled to dust and forests burnt to ashes. Countries had simply been wiped off the face of the earth. Years of civilization and developmentsnuffed out in an instant, with no one to record their names.

But against the odds, humanity managed to survive. Traumatized and beaten, but still alive.

Miraculously Levi made it too.

Jean and Connie found him half dead, on the foot of Fort Salta. He was lapsing in and out of consciousness. Devoid of the strength to even stand up.

Tents were made into makeshift hospitals, food was meager. And his first few months were spent on a wooden cot,bed ridden with the stinging pain of his knee and his yearning for Mae.

He yearned to see her when he was trapped with Zeke for a month, he yearned to see her when he woke up with searing pain and bandages all over his face. And now the war was over, but he couldn’t get back to her.

The Rumbling destroyed everything humanity had ever strived for. Rail tracks, roads, ports, farms… everything was abolished as an aftermath.

It was impossible to get to the other side of the world.

Gradually Levi recovered, it took him almost a year. But his strength never returned. The tiniest task would turn him breathless, and the sight in his right eye was gone for good.

The doctors diagnosed him a plethora of health problems. And he was never allowed to look weak, but now he was in a wheelchair, needing help to pick things up from the floor. Life dealt him one blow after another.

Armin, Jean and Connie became busy, making peace with the remaining nations. Mikasa never returned. And Levi found himself, all alone. With a chaotic mind, and too much time on his hands.

Soon the Allied Nations rescued all the survivors from the Titan Waste Lands. Marley was no more, so most refugees ended up taking asylum in Hizuru.

And by the courtesy of Kiyomi Azumabito, Levi was gifted an apartment in the center of the city hall, and citizenship. A tiny apartment in between a lush square, in the city center.

It was tiny, but homely enough. And he would love sitting on the balcony and watching the outside world.

Life got more comfortable and Levi got to see the sights his comrades died for.

But there were still days where he barely had enough strength to pick his remaining fingers. Those days were the worst. And he felt like the walls of his apartment would swallow him up.

The purpose of his life was over. Hange was gone. Erwin was gone. Life came crashing down.

And sometimes, under the flicker of a candlelight, at his tiny desk, he would close his eyes, and imagine that he’s back in Mae’s old house. Learning the alphabet, listening to the soft scratches of her pen as she corrected his writings. It seemed like lifetimes had passed since then.

Mae was always with him, through all his hurdles he faced on the surface. And now he had to face an awfully big one, without her.

So he decided he’ll start to learn writing again. With two fingers of his right hand gone, he had to re-learn how to hold a pen again. He told Onyaknapon to get him books, so he could trace over letters, trying to perfect every curve. Just the way Mae had taught him.

It gave him a sense of purpose, and it also made him feel close to her in some way.

It took three years for the Yeagerists to finally agree to a cordial discussion with the Alliance. Historia sent letters to everyone. And this morning the Alliance left, back to their hometown.

Armin did extend an invitation to him too. But Levi didn’t want to be associated with the world anymore. He didn’t have the strength for it nor the will. His job was done.

“Captain,” A voice pulls him out of his thoughts. Behind him is a sliding door that leads to his room. And on the bed sits Onyakapon.

He points at the three thick journals that take up most of his space in his briefcase.“Are you sure you want to take these back?”

And Levi contemplates. Paper doesn’t spoil, and he should rather carry some spare clothes to keep himself clean.

“Leave the journals there.” His voice comes out gruff, and then it turns wispy. Everything he’s ever felt in these years without her and his limbs, is penned in these flimsy sheets of paper.

“It’s letters I have written to her.” There is no need to clarify. There’s no need to carry his journals all the way back either. But he does it either way. The war has changed him. And Levi realises he doesn’t have to torture himself anymore.

“I’m surprised you never got her to meet us.” Onyakapon smirks. He could have never guessed the captain had a lover.

And a faint smile appears on Levi’s lips as the curve of her smile plays on his mind. He wonders if she found the pearl ring and his letter. He never found the courage to directly hand it to her.

It’s been three years. Three long painful years. Perhaps, she’s forgotten all about him.

“Tch, as if I’ll let you filths near her.” He brushes his feelings off. Masking his thoughts with harsher words. Some things truly never change.

A flight passes over his head, he’ll probably sit in the next one.

“I hope everything is safe out there, hope there’s no hostility.” Onyakapon mumbles as he closes the briefcase.

And Levi gets off from his wheelchair, limping towards his bedpost. “No harm from a guy in a wheelchair.” He tries to joke, but there’s a prick in his heart.

He can’t pick things from the shelf. Some Days he also needed help to get to the toilet. And even though he’s returning back to Mae, there’s nothing he can do for her now.

And while happiness was never a part of his destiny. He hopes she’s happy. At least one of them must be.

“Well if things are bad, you can always come back here captain.” Onyakapon’s voice cuts through the constant torture of his thoughts.

The words bring him enough solace to take him through the night. A rare smile tugs on his lips. “Thanks Onyakapon.”

It’s going to be a long trip.

_________________________

It’s 10 am, and it’s sweltering hot in Mitras. Sweat clings to Levi’s skin, and he wipes it off with the back of his hand.

His briefcase sits on his lap. And he pushes his wheelchair through the dirt road,

Vast meadows stretch in front of him. The air is fresh, and a plethora of apple trees border the sides of the road. Its shade is very welcome in the sun.

Farmhouses are scattered at a distance, crops grow in structured rows. And Levi taps his heel, as he moves past them mindlessly. His thoughts are only set on one.

Historia told him Mae’s house was at the end of the apple plantation. Luckily the terrain is flat, and he’s able to maneuver his wheelchair with ease.

Nonetheless, it’s been a tiring ride.

The royal guards did offer to escort him to Mae’s house, but he declined the offer. The moment approaching was too personal to share with a bunch of strangers.

Soon, what he’s searching for comes to vision, and eagerly he moves forward.

100 meters away from him, down the mud path, is a humble home. Its stone walls are smooth, worn out by time. And the roof is thatched with wood and straws.

There’s a small garden at the front, with saplings that are beginning to sprout. And a few meters away from it all is a park. The sight of which bubbles a bittersweet feeling in Levi's chest.

“This is it.” He exhales, cherishing the cold air on his lips. It’s a breath that he’s been holding in for too long. A yearning that has been living in his heart for years now.

His mind jogs back to a small trip they took 5 years back, on Mae’s birthday. She had booked a small cabin nestled in the middle of farmland.

He still remembers the smile on her face, and the way her eyes crinkled in the sunlight.

Her hair flowed in the wind, and he thoughtlessly followed it. Too enamored by the happiness she radiated.

The birds sang, and the lillies seemed to beam.

Stories were told by the fireplace, and they would stargaze from the flower field. Cuddling under the sheets of the stiff bed, and eating lunch under a tree's shade.

She laughed, then he smiled. And for a fleeting moment, Levi had escaped from all his responsibilities.

He realized he could spend his entire life this way, under the shadow of the sun, and the warmth of their love. He couldn’t care less about saving the world, or his tea shop even…

He just wanted to be here with her.

Forever.

But time stopped for no one. And Levi’s prayers had a habit of going unheard.

And now, 5 years later, life has brought him here again. In a secluded countryside so full of beauty and peace, and so unlike him.

This is the kind of life Mae had always wanted to live. Away from the bustle of the city, where she could spend countless hours looking at the stars.

The door to her house softly clicks. And Levi leans forward, with his breath caught in his throat.

He has felt her caress in the warmth of the sunlight. He’s heard the faint echo of her laughter in the rustling of the leaves. Every breath, every movement, was just in the hopes that he’d get to see her again.

Seasons passed by like shadows, and now finally he’s finally here, moments away from her. The journey has been staggeringly hard.

Time passes at a lumbering pace, and Levi feels like he can almost hear the creaking of the door, as it gets swinged open.

Out steps a man with a basket in his hand. He’s well built and tall, and donned in a casual attire.

And Levi’s heart drops to the floor as a sickening feeling of jealousy takes over. All of a sudden the blood is thunderous in his ears.

He feels like he can’t breathe And his heart burns at the thought that her gentle smile turns to a man who isn’t him.

A moment later, a toddler comes out, chasing behind the man.

And Levi clutches the sides of his wheelchair so tight, that his knuckles turn white.

Fuck

He feels like he’ll vomit.

Like salt to his wounds, the man picks up the child. And she smiles so bright, he can see her sweet giggle, even though it's barely audible in the distance.

The man kisses the toddler’s cheeks, and takes her to the park. And Levi watches the scene with a sting in his eye.

He was her lover once but now he's a mere bystander. A powerless man who can do nothing but just watch. The realization is like a punch to his gut, and a bittersweet memory comes to Levi’s mind.

On their last night in the cabin, he told Mae he didn’t have the time to get her a birthday present. And then she shed a silent tear, telling him how she felt like she’s carrying the entire relationship.

It wasn’t too far from the truth. He had too much on his mind as a soldier. And life was not easy when the weight of humanity rested on your shoulder. Some days he didn’t even have the time to think of her.

And Levi knew he was being selfish by keeping her chained to him, but his heart didn’t know a way of living without her.

He asked what he could do to make it up to her, and she asked him to run away to a peaceful place.

All she had ever wanted was to stay next to him.

The decision was clear in his head then, but now he wonders if he should have just eloped with her… It's not like all the wars he’s fought have turned this world into an ideal place.

The impermanence of life… It’s something that he still can’t comprehend.

What is born shall die, what has started shall end. People come and go out at their own pace. The good moments turn stale, and eventually everyone ends up alone, with only memories to comfort them. Time is truly a fickle piece of shit.

The man places the toddler on the swing, before he heads the other way. And Levi gets consumed by his thoughts.

He had people who he once held close too. Erwin, Hange, Isabel, Farlan. But they left.

He wasn’t prepared for their deaths, but somehow he made his peace with it.

But he's not ready to let Mae go yet.

Not when her name is etched in the depths of his heart. Not when her thoughts have troubled him day and night. His heart yearns for her so deep, it doesn’t know another way of living.

It was supposed to be his kid, she was supposed to be his wife. He wanted to start his tea shop too. Life just had some other plans after all.

There were days when he didn’t have the strength to get out of his makeshift bed, there were days where his injuries hurt so much, he thought he’d prefer death over the pain of living like this. But he pushed and pushed.

Because at the end of this tunnel, he saw her.

The sweet end of his tiresome journey, The reward for his unyielding perseverance. His home after years of loneliness.

But it’s been three years now. And she’s not his anymore.

A part of him wants to throttle this man, for laying his hands on her. And a part of him wants to hate on her too. But it isn’t her fault as well.

His heart has been placed in the palm of her hand for far too long. And if she decides to break it, then he’ll just have to disseminate.

He guesses he’ll just have to live with the weight of being all alone.

The silence consumes,

And Levi taps his heel in frustration.

Time passes by painfully slowly. And one minute turns into fifteen.

The man and toddler are long gone now, but Levi still continues to bleed on the edge of his seat. He continues to sweat in the heat. Too nervous to move forward, yet too regretful to turn away.

Old habits die hard, he guesses.

The strength to move forward wanes from his body and every breath he takes only shatters his composure into pieces. He never thought he’d have to taste defeat, after winning over the entire world.

There’s some shuffling in the woods, and he swivels around aghast. His reflexes are not as sharp as he used to be. And he’s too exhausted to put on the act of a stone cold person.

He tries honing on the sound of movement but what use would that even be?

Back in the day he had the strength to beat any person to a pulp. But now with his crippled leg, he’s more of a burden, than a lover.

His hands trace back to his scars, a habit he has recently developed. And insecurity floods his mind.

He feels stupid pondering over something as trivial as his appearance. He wouldn’t even pay it a thought when he was in the Survey Corps. But he’s on the way to meet the love of his life and there’s these scars on his face that make him look fucking hideous.

The pit he's falling into is not unfamiliar. It’s something that bothers him everytime he looks into the mirror.

And in the haze of his insecurities. A sweet voice finds him.

“Dadd-a?”

He gasps, slowly turning towards the voice.

A little girl peeks at him from behind a tree trunk. He can’t see much of her, as she’s a few feet away, partly covered between the dense layers of trees. But he recognises her as the same child, who stepped out of Mae’s house a few moments ago.

The silence stretches, and she continues looking at him. With her eyes all wide and beaming. And Levi sighs, not knowing how to react.

He decides he doesn’t have it in him to see Mae or her happy family. He’ll just come back another day, when his heart hurts a little less.

And so he turns his wheelchair around, almost taking a U turn. But the same innocent voice stops him again.

“Dadd-a,” the girl squeals, and her tiny shoes squeak as she waddles towards him.

And Levi feels stumped, when she wraps her tiny body around his leg.

He’s always been quick to react to situations, but now he’s frozen.

He wonders why this little girl is hugging his leg, and how she’s not scared of how scary he looks with the huge scars on his face.

And as much bitterness his heart holds at the cruel turn of fate, her purity washes it away. Slowly, gently, deliberately. His features soften, and he decides the least he can do is drop her back home to safety.

He huffs, bending down to pick her up. And as he lifts her up by her armpits, his eyes are met with the same shade of silver.

Her skin is pale, papery white in complexion and her hair is the same shade of midnight black as his. Everything from the shape of her face to the shade of her lips comes from him. And there’s also a little cravat tucked inside her red polka dot dress.

“Daddaaa,” she chimes as if she recognizes him.

And a shuddered breath escapes his lips. Her smile… It comes from Mae.

She is his. Theirs. A part of him and a part of Mae.

And Levi has faced strong emotions before. He’s had his stomach churn with anxiety, and he’s had his heart overrun with grief and loss. He’s always anticipated all the things that could happen in his future, trudged every moment with caution. But no amount of preparedness could prepare him for the moment in front of him.

His hands tremble, as he puts her down on the floor. He’s a father now… he’s been a father for the past 3 years. It's too much to process. And his heart beats so fast in his chest, he’s afraid it will break out of his ribs.

“Lilly, Lilly,” A familiar voice cuts through the moment and his heart skips a beat.

“How many times have I told you not to-” Mae steps out of the trees, panting and worried. But the sight in front of her makes the words on her tongue scurry away.

Levi is a few meters away from her, in a wheelchair with 2 long scars running down his face, just the way the Queen had foreseen in the paths.

Everyday, she has stared at this road for countless hours, waiting for him to show up. It feels like she’s waited a lifetime to see him again.

The years of separation pass by her eyes.

Countless nights were spent crying into his shirt and every breath felt like a burden.

Everyone was ecstatic about the liberation of their island. And Mae was condemned to be alone, with her dwindling will to live.

Then she met Samuel and Claus, the soldiers who showed empathy to her, in a world that had become too hostile for anyone who supported the alliance.

They took her to the Queen, and the Queen recognised her instantly, as the doctor who helped when Trost was breached.

And as a Survey Corps Soldier who was once a part of the Levi’s squad, the Queen made it her mission to protect and provide for the ones who were close to the Alliance.

That’s when Mae moved into the peaceful countryside, with Jean and Connie’s mom.

Living with people who dealt with the same grief surely gave some solace, but life was still painful. And in the midst of her pain, like a beam of light into stark darkness, her baby came into this world.

And Mae never thought she’d get to see Levi’s eyes again, but they were right in front of her. Resting so peacefully against her chest.

That night she cried tears of gratitude. Life crashed into her as peacefully as it could.

“Mama mama, dadd-a has come back,” Her daughter squeals, with her tiny finger pointing towards Levi. Her grasp on her leg is still tight, and her eyes sparkle with joy.

And Mae tries to smile, but it gets dissolved in the trail of her tears.

This moment has haunted her every second, wrecked her entire being. And as she steps closer to the dream of Levi she’s had, every night since she was pregnant, the details of him come to life.

Her eyes follow the strong curve of his jaw, chiseled as if it has been carved by an artist. The ridge of his nose is sharp as always and his thin eyebrows are slightly disheveled.

She caresses him with her gaze, before her touch can even come close.

Two different Levi’s look back at her now. On the left, his face is marred, with two long scars running down his face. He is hurt and hidden away. And she can never see him through his cloudy iris.

But in his other eye, there are flecks of hope. The black of his pupil has expanded, and his iris shines blue in the sunrays. He wears his heart on his sleeve, Mae swears she has never seen him this vulnerable before.

And she might have lived without him for 3 years, but he has lived inside her every second, in her every thought. Her hand extends towards him out of deprivation.

Life hasn’t been the kindest to her.

But when the pads of her fingers reach the hollow of his cheek, her heart steadies itself. Whenever her eyes met his orbs , her ears met his voice, and her body met his touch. His familiarity always envelopes her. As if the hearth of a warm house, always welcoming and open.

Her hands reach to his lips, the shape of which she can trace on paper, even with her eyes shut close.

And Levi closes his eyes in alleviation.

There’s a search for words. Words for the longing, words for the separation.

And Mae shudders, as the pads of her fingers skim over his skin. They trace over his scars, the old and the new. From the top of his forehead, down to the edge of his chin. From the curve of his necks down the length of his arms.

Three years have passed by, but his features are still as strong.

Her caress reaches the end of his arm, and her fingers find the indents of his knuckles. Gingerly she takes his palm into hers,

And Levi is quick to wrap the 3 fingers that remain on his hand, around her.

Her touch feels both foreign and achingly familiar. He has craved this so much.

Mae’s eyes widen at the gesture, heavy with tears. And she kisses the spot where his 2 fingers once used to be. Levi is as real as ever, she can feel every divot of his skin against her lips.

The realization breaks her, and she drops to the floor. With her head on his lap, and her arms sprawled all over his thighs.

There’s disbelief, there’s elation. The feeling can never be put into words. Her shoulders wilt, heavy with the pain of separation, and she cries into his lap.

“I missed you… You weren’t there.” Her voice is muffled against his skin. “I thought I’d never see you again.” Her sobs pierce through the quiet of the farmland.

And he stares wide eyed, biting back his tears as well.

The pain she has carried with her all these years, is right in front of him. Laced into the heavy sobs that rake through her frame.

And Levi knows he should pick her up and kiss the shit of her, but he’s frozen. For his gaze is stuck on the familiar pearl ring that rests on her ring finger.

Words fail him, and his heart spasms in his chest. “D-did y-you ? He can only stutter, as his touch lingers over the pearl. ”A-after all this time?”

The question hangs in the air, but the answer is right in front of him. In the grief that occupies her heart, in the love that still brims in her eyes. And in the tiny girl who looks exactly like him.

It feels like all the sacrifices he’s made in life have finally come to fruition. His directionless quest has finally found its destination. His exhausted soul has found its shelter.

There’s such mercy in this moment, all he can do is shudder and let out an exhale. Maybe in exhaustion, maybe in fulfillment.

And Mae looks up at him, her eyes tinged red with tears. “I was only going to wait one more year, good that you came back in time.”

He puts his hand on her head, and her body trembles beneath his touch. All the grief she has held onto for so long, slows paroles in the form of her tears.

The scene is as heartbreaking, as it is rewarding.

“Ma-ma,” Lilly babbles, her voice as bright as sunlight cutting through storm clouds. And Levi looks at her as she tries to fit herself in the space between Mae’s hunched frame and his legs.

She settles into Mae’s lap, and Mae is forced to look into her eyes full of wonder.

“Mama…” she coos, and her tiny hands wipe the fat tears that roll down Mae’s face.” Dad-da’s back, don-t be sad.”

And Mae smiles at that, certainly she takes a lot from her father.

“You’re right, my love…let’s take Dada home shall we?” Her voice turns gentler, and she gets up with Lily in her arms.

“Levi?” Mae questions, gesturing towards his lap.

And Levi hesitates, a little too afraid that he’s too scary for the delicate human being.

“You’ll be a great father, don’t worry.”

The second time he looks at her, he knows he’s doomed. Her cheeks are round and full, as if there’s food stuffed inside them. And her eyes are just like his, but there’s a brightness in them that he never had.

She settles on his lap. And as he wraps his arms around her waist, she places her tiny palms on his scarred forearms. And Levi realizes there is nothing he wouldn’t do for this tiny person that he’s just met a few moments ago.

His heart feels full of love.

Mae starts pushing his wheelchair forward. And he closes his eyes, as he feels the wind against his face. It’s a moment that makes him feel grateful to be alive.

In a span of a few minutes, they’re already outside the veranda to her house. And Levi can smell the Lavender she has planted in the front garden.

“It’s not a big house but it’s enough. I stay here with Jean and Connie’s mom… Luckily for us though, they’ve gone to Trost for a bit.” Mae speaks, as she picks Lily from Levi’s lap, and places her inside the house.

“It’s a very sweet place though. All the farmers staying around often visit. It’s like a big family. Borris was here too, half an hour back. You might have seen him…he wanted to take some cookies for his son.”

“Ahh,’ Levi drawls, as if he didn’t spend fifteen minutes hating on that man. “I don’t think I saw him.”

She takes his briefcase in one hand, and hooks her other arm around his waist. Slowly helping him up the short flight of stairs. And he wants to do nothing, but melt in her embrace

“I can walk for a few minutes.” Her murmurs, almost embarrassed.

“You’re not walking anywhere until I check your leg myself.” She reprimands, but the softness in her eyes contradicts her strict tone.

As it turns out, Mae’s house is very much a home.

The interior is simple and modest. There’s a couch, two wooden chairs and a table in the front room. The wooden floor creaks as he steps in. And the walls are filled with the crayon marks.

“I’ll get your wheelchair inside.” Mae mumbles as she seats Levi on the couch.

And when Mae comes back in again, Lilly has already managed to climb on the couch. She’s standing on Levi’s lap with her hands on his cheeks. The faintest of smiles plays on Levi’s lips, and he holds her by the waist, making sure she doesn’t lose balance.

The sight makes Mae’s heart swell. Her entire world is now in front of her. Her heart feels so full and so heavy at the same time. And her eyes turn misty again.

“Oi oi, don’t start with all the crying again?” Levi mutters as he notices her standing by the door.

And Mae sniffs, overwhelmed. “I’ll make you some tea?”

“Yaa- Da-dda love teaaa.” Lilly squeals, before Levi can even respond to Mae.

And Mae smiles. Her family is finally complete... a few years back she would have never believed she’d get the privilege of experiencing this.

And just as she’s about to turn towards the kitchen, Levi stops her.

“Mae…” His voice drawls, and he pats the spot next to him. “Tea can wait.”

_________________________

The world outside fades into a quiet hum as the bustle of the morning stretches into the lull of the afternoon.

The sun has draped itself over the earth, like a soft blanket. And Levi rests on the bed. He’s just finished his lunch, and he allows himself to sink into the mattress.

Time seems to have been caught in the gentle sway of the trees, and Levi takes his sweet time looking at the things around him.

Lily's soft toys are stacked on top of the cupboard. And there's a wooden cabinet, filled with all of Mae's favorite books.

The curtains are made of colorful crocheted patchwork. And somehow Mae has managed to bring most of her things from her house in Trost here.

But it's not just that. Levi's stuff is here too.

There’s a cupboard next to Mae with his clothes folded and organized just the way he likes it. His favorite novels and teacups are kept in a separate cabinet. And right in front of the bed, there's a wall with paintings of the three of them together.

It feels like nothing has changed, like he was never away.

And everytime he closes his eyes, his heart begins to race. But for the first time, the adrenaline that flows through him isn’t nerve-racking. It feels exciting

The curtains above his head billow softly with the wind. A mild breeze enters the bedroom and Levi tilts his face to bask in its warmth.

His whole world now lies in his arms. Snoring peacefully, with her hand wrapped around his finger. She's so tiny, that all of her body fits on his torso.

And he lets out a sigh as he feels the subtle rise of her tiny chest against his own.

“Are you not able to sleep, because all of a sudden there’s a child on your chest, and you don’t know where she came from?” Mae steps into the room, quietly shutting the door behind her.

“I can clearly tell where she comes from.” Levi comments as he looks at his dear daughter. “Is this why you were crying so much the day I was leaving for Marley?”

“Mhmm… “ Mae nods, as she rests her back against the door. And Levi closes his eyes, listening to her voice.

“You had to save the world Levi, you had to give it your all. And you would have died hating yourself if you knew you had a child coming into the world, that you weren’t going to be there for… As much as I was dying to tell you about my pregnancy, I thought it was best to keep it from you…” It’s an uncomfortable topic that defines the rest of their future, Mae’s eyes fall to the ground.

If only she would look up, she would see Levi with the faintest of smiles, thinking of how he can actually see her instead of imagining her.

“I know a child was never something you wanted… So I understand how complicated this situation can be for you.” Mae goes on and Levi lays still with his eyes shut in contentment, hoping for time to slow down.

“What?” She gasps, finally looking up at him. “Say something? I’ll never know how you’re feeling if you don’t tell me about it.”

Finally his eyes flutter open, and he looks at her through the curtain of his lashes. A faint smile plays on his lips, and his cheeks turn pink as he stretches out his other hand towards her. “Come here.”

In an instant, her features soften, turning into one of relief. And she smiles as makes her way to him.

She rests her head on his shoulder.And he drinks in every detail. As if he’s a parched man, dying of thirst. His heart pounds in his chest, and then his gaze falls towards her lips.

It doesn’t take too long for their lips to fuse together. It’s a simple kiss, but it’s been years.

They part in bliss.

And Levi brings her hands to his lips, pressing a doting kiss on her skin. She’s his to keep, his to salvage.He can’t put his gratitude into words.

“Thank you.” His voice is heavy. “ I-I…” He wants to tell her how happy he is to be next to her. He wants to tell her how exhausting it was without her. And that he can’t believe she’s all his. He wants to tell her about all the letters he’s written to her. But his heart is lodged so deep in his throat that he can’t squeak out the words he desperately wants to say.

“Rest my love.” She keeps her thumb on his lip, tracing his bottom lip. “We have time.”

His eyes flutter shut at her words, and her hand reaches to the top of his head. She starts combing out the hair that falls on his forehead.

His old scars have faded, almost blending into his skin. And the hard muscles on his chest have been replaced with soft dimpled skin. The lines in the corner of her eyes run deep.

He’s softer now. Marked by age, but just as beautiful.

Her finger traces down his cheek, following the scar that runs across his face. The feeling of his skin dipping under her fingers almost feels overwhelming.

“Levi,” she calls, caressing the side of his face. And he responds by leaning into her touch.

“I can’t believe you’re real,” She murmurs.

The silence is blissful.

And Levi feels his heart flutter, just like it did when she held his hand for the first time.

“Mae…” his voice trails off and he gulps. “How did Lily recognise me?... It feels like she knows so much about me?”

And Mae tilts her head up. “She’s heard stories about you ever since she was in my womb, of course she knows a lot about you… We even got someone to draw a portrait of you last year, because she wanted to see you for her birthday.”

“She thinks you’re some kind of hero Levi.” Mae yawns, “A few months back, she was trying to eat food by herself, and she ended up making a mess… which was fine because she was just learning, but she started crying frantically, and I asked her what happened? She said Dada wouldn’t like her, because she made a mess and Dada hates messes.”

Mae’s eyes trail to the way her daughter sleeps, with her cheek squished against Levi’s chest, and her eyes are shut close in peace. “She thinks you’re some kind of hero.”

And Levi remains silent. Afraid the words will ruin the tender moment.

It might seem like he’s dozed off, but the pink crawling on his cheek tells otherwise.

And Mae looks at him with the softest of smiles. For the first time in a long while, her heart feels complete.

“Actually she is right… you are a hero.” She mumbles as she closes her eyes in peace.

And a single tear slips past his eye.

He’s finally home.

Thoughts? Thoughts? Thoughts?

I know its a very simple, cliche, happily ever after ending, but I really REALLY wanted Levi to have a family of his own, and experience a normal, happy life, which is why I made Mae pregnant lol.

To anyone who has made this far. I would love to know your thoughts on the entire story. Things you liked, didn't like. Your feedback is crucial.

I'm going to start editing this fic from now on, and whatever you say will be considered. So I would love to know your thoughts on what could get better and be improved.

Something else, I'm very excited about is designing and illustrating a book cover (since I am a graphic designer lol) and get a few hardcopies printed for myself!! I'm assuming I'll be done with it by DEC 25th, so right now I do plan to post an Epilogue/ bonus chapter and share the book cover designs on Dec 25th. (I don;t know if anyone is interested in this, but I'm just doing it for myself hehe)

I would like to thank the many people who have been a constant support while writing this. I don't think I can tag everyone since they are on different platforms, so I'll just mention their names here. @Alexandra218943 , Cupidcup, @musumusuhasi and Abha , I wouldn't have completed this without you, so thank you <3

And to all the people who have commented, and interacted with the story at any point. I want to let you know that I've had a shit month at work, my self esteem has been at an all time low , and the only thing that's made me feel capable of something are your comments, and I keep going back to them! So thank you for that, I am immensely grateful!

[fruitcoops]

a prompt:

sirius and regulus argument. probably something which has been manifesting for a while, like it starts with short sly comments and then builds up to create tension within the family (cuz i consider them part of the dumais family) so dumo tries to comfort one or both of them in the end? kinda long prompt, it’s just something that i’ve not seen and would like to see how it would work?

Gnaw at the Bone, because I just can't leave these two alone. Character credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

TW** (please be gentle with yourselves!): canon shit childhoods (no graphic abuse), Walburga and Orion's A+ parenting, sibling parentification, panic attack, bad coping mechanisms (skating), and past minor injuries from said coping mechanisms

“Sirius.”

“Reg.”

His stomach twisted. His head throbbed. His mouth tacked over, lips sticky, chapped, too much, not enough. Years of it. Stars in orbit, on a collision course with anything that came too close—their gravity was inescapable and destructive to the nth degree. They ruined everything but each other. That gravity would rub and chafe and grind at their rough surfaces and it made him sick to think about it.

Oh, it made him sick to think about it.

--

“Sirius.”

“Reg.”

And that was it—a clipped acknowledgment from scowling lips, then resignation. Regulus disappeared down the hall with his pasta. Sirius watched him go, shook his head, and headed in the opposite direction with a white-knuckled grip on his cup.

Alright then.

“Everything okay?” Pascal ventured.

Sirius jumped, his glower lifting for a moment in surprise, as if Pascal hadn’t been sitting there for over an hour. “What?”

Pascal tilted his head toward the empty doorway and set aside the broken toaster. “Everything okay?”

His mouth dipped in a grimace; his brow wrinkled like he was trying to find the weak link in a failing play, but something simmered beneath. “We’ll figure it out,” Sirius finally answered. “We’ll—it’s Reg, you know?”

Pascal didn’t know, actually, but Sirius was gone before he could ask for an elaboration. In fact, the only thing he knew for sure was that Regulus had gone through a period of rapid character development over the past nine months and that Sirius didn’t stop loving him for a single second of it, even through the snappish attitude, even through those horrible interviews that Regulus clearly regretted. They were two sides of the same coin with the unfortunate ability to be as evasive as greased weasels.

Celeste would say he was being nosy. Pascal preferred to think of it as a natural desire to engage with his kids as a loving, supportive parent.

He looked down at the toaster, then back up at the opposing doorways and sighed. It seemed some detective work was in order.

--

“Remus! How are you, mon ami?”

“I’m…good?” To his credit, Remus recovered quickly and offered a light fist bump in greeting. “What’s up?”

Pascal waved a vague hand. “The usual. House is good? Dog is healthy? Boyfriend is happy?”

Bingo. A shadow flickered over Remus’ face before it smoothed out into his usual neutral friendliness. “Yeah, we’re doing great. We were thinking of repainting the living room soon, so if there’s a day you want to borrow the dog, I’m all ears.”

“Parfait, I’ll let you know. And Regulus?”

There it was again—the tension, the twitch, the passive smile. “I think Sirius is just glad to have him home. It’s really been great getting to know him. He’s a sweet kid.”

He might be, but he’s been getting on your nerves, too. If Pascal knew anything, that would piss Sirius off more than any insult Regulus hurled his way. “I’m so glad to hear it. It’s good for them to be near each other right now.”

He clapped Remus on the shoulder and stood before the younger man could respond. It wasn’t just a one-time problem, then; whatever the seething, festering thing between Sirius and Regulus was, it had seeped into their everyday function. Enough that it had even begun annoying Remus ‘Patient’ Lupin. Pascal might not be able to fix their issue, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t give them a nudge in the right direction.

Sirius was right where he left him, hunched on the bench with a whiteboard in hand, though his pen served more as a drumstick than a writing instrument as Pascal approached. The tip-tapping stopped when he ruffled Sirius’ hair and took the seat next to him. “Defense,” Sirius muttered by way of explanation. “There’s a gap. Tremzy’s a killer when he goes in for a shot, but we need to close his spot when he moves.”

Pascal hummed in agreement and propped his skates up on the boards, letting the battered wood take his weight and ease the ache. “Good eyes.”

“ ‘s what I get paid for.”

“You seem tense, mon fils.”

“Hmm?” Sirius blinked. His eye contact was pristine, but his attention was lightyears away. “Sorry, just thinking. Did you need something?”

Pascal offered a wry smile. “What, you’re too old to let me sit with you?”

The deep crease between Sirius’ brows smoothed out; he smiled softly. He blinked again; this time, a bit of him returned. Not beyond all hope of intervention, then. “Non. Desolé. I’m…I’m in my head today.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.”

A few seconds passed before Sirius nodded. Pascal watched his gaze go distant again and his cheek dimpled as he bit the flesh inside. Guilt. Perhaps frustration. A twisted mystery to solve, if Pascal had not been watching him so closely since he first blessed their threshold. It was Regulus, it was Remus and Regulus—

It was something from a time Sirius had been trying to lock down. Ghosts were hard to trap behind hasty boards, nailed haphazard and half-panicked. Sirius was better, not healed. He was safe, not exorcised. He was so goddamn brave it hurt to watch, but Pascal wasn’t foolish enough to miss the way he spooked. And Regulus was a good kid, but a fucking mess all the same.

(Privately, he questioned the decision to go headlong into university right after escaping 18 years of living hell. That was not his place to challenge and not his problem to solve.)

(But still. University? Really?)

Sirius made another note on his board. A canine tooth poked out as he worried at his lower lip. Pascal watched him fidget, hands up and over and under and between, and steadied himself with a slow exhale when Sirius began twirling his pen over his knuckles with a dull, rippling noise.

“Regulus is angry with me.”

Pascal made an impassive noise. It was Regulus.

“I think. Probably.” Sirius’ knee bounced for a five-count before going still. “He’s working through a lot. Finals were hard. It took him off-guard. He got snappy at Remus.”

Remus and Regulus. “Oh?”

“Something about changing his sheets. He didn’t like that we went in his room to clean while he was away.”

Something from a time you’ve been trying to lock down. Not mutually exclusive events, but a progression. Sirius was fixed on a far point, no longer tracking the movement of players. His hands had gone quiet.

“I think I—I think they—” Space hung between them like a bear trap. It was horrible to be right. Sirius exhaled hard and shook his head. “C’est pas grave.”

Pascal bit back his disappointment. He knew better than to think it would spill out so easily. He scooted closer on the bench, and when Sirius didn’t flinch, leaned over to bump him with a gentle shoulder. “Don’t let it eat you up, ouais? Regulus is grown. So are you. It will come in time.”

A halfhearted nod was the best he would get, it seemed. Pascal risked a soft squeeze to the back of Sirius’ neck and—there he was. The loosening of his tense shoulders, the careful lean into the contact. “We’ll talk,” Sirius said.

“Take it slow,” Pascal advised, and prayed to any god that Sirius would at least listen to that. Those who shoved their hands in the cage of a feral animal only came away bitten and rabid. For all his growth, Sirius was plenty feral without the influence of Regulus Black ripping him open again.

They watched the drills together in silence for forty-five minutes. When they were done, Sirius’ clipboard held only blank paper.

--

“Tuney and I were really close. As kids, I mean.”

A light, fluffy cloud passed overhead on the rushing breeze.

“We did everything together. Like, literally everything. Mom used to joke that we should’ve been twins.”

The pain in her voice was one he knew well.

“We started drifting when I hit junior high, I think.” A controlled, even breath followed the gentle sound of a dandelion being picked. A few bits of fluff floated in and out of view. “And then high school came around, and she hated my fucking guts. Shredded all my tights with a fork. Refused to look at me in the lunchroom. Mom and Dad didn’t tell her it was okay, but they didn’t stop her, either. They just kind of sat there and looked sympathetic.”

Quiet fell over them again. A strand of hair billowed over his vision for a half-second. Time for a haircut.

“I still don’t know what I did,” Lily confessed to the afternoon sun. “I still don’t think she’s forgiven me.”

Looking at Regulus now, Sirius thought he might finally understand what she meant.

The corner of Regulus’ mouth was turned down; not more than usual, but enough to be a scowl to anyone who knew where to look. Quietly, he hoped Regulus’ school friends could tell the difference. He deserved to have people like that. Sirius wasn’t sure he had explained that very well before sending him off. Or ever.

“It’s a good book,” he said.

Regulus made a noncommittal noise. He hadn’t turned a page since Sirius paused in the doorway.

Another try. Pull back to the midline, find an open corridor. “One of my favorites.”

“Je sais.”

“Why are you angry with me?”

Once upon a time, he would not have been so bold as to ask. Once upon a time, Regulus would have sunk further into his cocoon. One pale finger traced the edge of the worn paperback. “I’m not angry with you.”

You’re always a little angry with me. “You won’t look at me.”

“God forbid I’m busy.”

“You’re reading.”

“And I’m busy,” Regulus said waspishly. “Go get Remus to take you for a walk, or something.”

Maybe this was where Lily had failed. In one way or another, she and Petunia had missed each other in the middle. He could recall those six terrible, lonely years with too much clarity to let Regulus push him away. Losing him would never be worth an argument won. “I want to spend time with you.”

“Then get your own book.” Regulus muttered something else under his breath that Sirius didn’t care to look into.

He swallowed down a sigh and picked one at random off the shelf, then settled down on the couch opposite Regulus’ armchair. The words could have been in Portuguese, for all they registered in his mind. The edges were soft from many hands. It might have been Remus’, or from the secondhand bookstore in town. God, it could have been one of Sirius’ own favorites for all he knew. He was working on knowing more of those.

The color blue, but a specific shade.

Tater-tot casserole, preferably with meat, acceptable with just cheese.

Books with adventures, books he could run away in.

Poutine with extra gravy.

Henley shirts that stopped at his elbow.

Hoodies—not the zip-fronts—made of heavier fabric. The ones where Remus had fussed with the cuffs.

“What’s your book—”

The sudden snap of cover on page made him wince; an irritated grumble-sigh hung on its coattails as Regulus swept out of the room without a backward glance. Sirius’ stomach turned, and turned, and turned. He always fucked it up. He always tried too hard. He shut his book in silence and set it on the floor, and went to get his skates.

--

I’m not an infant. Bared teeth and clenched fists. A charge in the air, a snake ready to strike. And you are not my fucking mother.

Remus wrinkled his nose and scrubbed harder at the grout.

Nightmarish, is what it was. The summer had been sun-soaked and semi-charmed with only the awkwardness of getting-to-know-you’s to taint it. But that was Remus’ perfect wheelhouse—polite conversation, buttering up, small talk to ease Regulus into a world that wasn’t actively trying to shred him. It had all worked so well.

He didn’t know what went wrong. Worse, he didn’t know how to fix any of it. Regulus was constantly boiling with silent fury like a kettle about to blow and it was terrible. Every second Sirius and Regulus existed within each others’ eyeline was hell. And they were living together. For twelve more days.

If they all survived this, Remus was going to take himself out for a little treat. One that did not involve scrubbing the kitchen grout just to avoid running into either of the ticking time bombs.

Regulus’ hissing colliding with the low, furious timbre of Sirius’ voice was not something Remus wanted to experience again, in this life or the next. Nobody won. Everybody lost in one way or another. Sirius got angry and Regulus got angry and Sirius got defensive and Regulus got mean, flat-out and full-send. Sirius snapped back, Regulus stormed off, and Remus spent the better part of his night assuring Sirius he was not turning into his parents. Rinse, repeat, wish for death.

Commotion kicked up in the living room and went quiet in the same breath—Remus paused to watch Regulus stomp off with a book in one white-knuckled hand and listened carefully for the aftershocks.

The house inhaled with him. The office door closed hard. Sirius’ footsteps were rhythmic as a metronome all the way up the stairs and back down again—Remus bit his tongue when he saw the skates clenched in one hand—and remained that way until the basement door shut him out.

Then, and only then, did Remus let a quiet, “shit” slip through his teeth.

--

Pull back to the midline. Pull back to the midline. Watch, pull back, find your corridor, strike.

The puck skated past the goal without so much as a whisper of net. Sirius hardly heard it hit the boards.

--

Remus looked faintly ill when they arrived at practice; Pascal was grateful for the early warning to prepare himself for Sirius’ perma-scowl and overall vibe of ultimate distress. The change in the atmosphere nearly made his ears pop. Leo made a hasty retreat from the locker room after Kasey, looking as if he had taken psychic damage, and several others watched him leave with unbridled longing.

“On-ice in five,” Sirius said. Ordered. Everything about him looked incorrectly articulated. “We’re running drills, then doing dry lands.”

Not a soul dared to try the usual bitching and moaning. All cheerful conversation had met its abrupt end.

Cole lowered his head and slunk out the door like a stray bit of shadow. The rest of them followed suit within a minute or two, save for James, who steered Sirius into the ice room with a firm hand on his back.

Plastic buckles clinked softly in the empty space left. “They’re worse?”

Remus slumped forward and muffled a groan in both hands. “They’re going to fucking kill each other.”

“Any idea what happened?”

Remus spread his hands with a lost expression.

“Did this start when Regulus came home?”

“It’s just been the past three days.” Remus shook his head, leaning his elbows heavily on his knees with his pads half-done. “I can’t—Reg was fine when he got here. He was fine through Christmas. Sirius mentions we changed his sheets before he came home, and now he wants my head on a pike and my boyfriend to explode.”

Pascal picked at the peeling logo of his shorts. Sheets. What was so special about the sheets? “Were they new sheets?”

“Same ones he used all summer. I literally just washed them and put them back.”

“So…he didn’t like that you were in his space?” Remus half-shrugged, clearly frazzled by the mere memory. “You know, Adele hates it when we go into her room. Even to drop laundry off, or help her clean.”

“No, yeah, Jules is the same. That’s what started it.”

“Started…?” Understanding crept up his throat like battery acid. “He didn’t.”

“It was bad,” Remus said weakly.

“How bad?”

The laces of Remus’ skates dragged on the ground while he shuffled in his stall. The lines of his arms were rigid and upset; he scratched at the back of his wrist, curled over like he was trying to shield his middle. “His feet bled again.”

Pascal closed his eyes. He should have pushed harder against the basement rink eight years ago. He shouldn’t have let Sirius leave so soon.

He forgot, sometimes, how very alone Sirius had been.

“I fixed it,” Remus said after a minute. Of course you did. He sniffed, shaking his head like he could hear Pascal’s thoughts. “It wasn’t too bad. Blisters, mostly, some hotspots. Made him keep the bandaids on for practice. I hate—Dumo, I hate this. I hate living in it, I hate seeing them tear each other apart. It’s so quiet.”

“They need to stop,” Pascal agreed. Remus kept looking at him for—a solution, he realized. Terrible hope. Something desperate and fragile, a young man coming to a mentor for help he just…couldn’t give.

He looked away first. Remus’ exhale felt like a knife.

--

“It’s me, it’s me, it’s me, it’s me—”

“No, no, no,” Remus soothed somewhere in the catastrophe of the world.

Sirius spit, again, and pressed his hands over his eyes, again, and willed the bathroom floor to stop digging into his knees and just swallow him up already. His skin crawled and he wanted to scratch but he couldn’t take his hands away or the room would spin and tip him into nothingness.

Maybe he belonged there. But he had managed to hurt Regulus when he was a country away, so perhaps he wouldn’t even be safe in the ether.

Remus’ hand was cool on the small of his back as he frantically tried to keep his dinner down. He didn’t rub. He didn’t tap. He didn’t so much as twitch. Sirius listed to the side and flashed a hand out to steady himself. The pain of his wrist hitting the cabinet didn’t even register until Remus hissed in sympathy and took his weight in the bend of his arm.

“I am treating him just like they did,” Sirius rasped through the smoke pouring from inside him.

“No.” Remus was begging now. He sounded so tired. He was begging. The room swam in the kaleidoscope of suffering that he really should be used to by now, and Sirius pressed his elbows harder into the toilet seat as his ears began to ring.

You are not my mother.

Sirius gasped in a too-hot breath. It had been directed at Remus, not him. But.

But he was.

It was so sick and twisted and his stomach made sure to tell him that with a real-world example of both those words.

You are not my mother.

She wasn’t, either. Their nannies had come close. Sirius missed them sometimes (often) (aching) (with the hurt of a child).

Remus was not Regulus’ mother but he had been, in the same scream-worthy way he had been his father, too, and his brother. He couldn’t think too hard about how he had been the only one to cuddle Regulus without crying and fuck, there he went, Sirius the drama queen making the whole damn world about him.

“Okay, okay.” Arms came around him, easing the slicing pain of the sobs that caught him in fishhooks. The back of his hand hit the floor. His knees hurt like a bruise. His face was smushed against Remus’ chest and it really should have been uncomfortable. Remus made a noise of sympathy and gathered all the gross, slimy, bits of a Sirius-puddle into his arms because he was a saint. The patron saint of fucking messes, and Sirius was the messiest sinner of them all.

“I’m so horrible to him,” he sobbed, hitching and sticky. Probably incoherent. He mumbled. She hated it when he mumbled. “I’m so horrible.”

You are not my mother.

“It was me.” He gulped for air. Remus’ dizzying words fell quiet at the interruption. He added another note to his list of penance. “It was me, it was, I tried.”

“What did you try?” Remus’ fingertips brushed away a loose, sweaty lock and the sobs came harder after that, wracking him down to his organs, past the precious cradle of his ribs. A warm palm cupped the back of his head and Sirius heard a strangled noise interrupt his own endless babbling. He didn’t know he could make that sound. With the way his throat and body were angled against the unmovable pillar of Remus, though, it shouldn’t have surprised him.

“I was—I was his mother.” It was so hard to breathe through the gasping. “I didn’t know what I was doing but I was his mother but I won’t be her.”

“Oh, god.” Remus sounded weak for a saint. There went another beautiful thing, ruined in Sirius’ messy clumsy hands. And somehow, in the darkness, in the Blackness, a kiss nestled just near his temple.

He couldn’t help but go still, then limp, as all the fight and fear siphoned from his flooded lungs.

Remus breathed like he was going to speak several times before he did. “There are other ways.” His voice was heartbreak. Sirius closed his burning eyes. “Sirius—baby, you know my mom. You know Effie, and Celeste, and you know Lily.”

Lily. He knew Lily. Her green eyes, so much pain and regret. Don’t be like me, Pads. Her green eyes, the way she looked at Harry, the way they matched. Sirius had his mother’s eyes. Had she ever looked at him like that?

“There are other ways to be someone’s mother. And…” His hands stuttered, then began to move again, scritching the back of Sirius’ head. That feeling usually made him go comatose in their bed. “Regulus was trying to hurt me when he said that. You know that, right?”

I am not an infant. And you are not my fucking mother.

Remus kissed him again. The shell of his ear, this time. “It wasn’t about you. I promise.”

But it was. There on the bathroom floor, it was.

--

The woman was watching him with infuriating patience. Sometimes—more often than he cared to count—she would even look away to her clipboard or her phone, and that was even worse. Regulus knew how to be ignored. He fucking hated her nonchalant attention.

Either look at me and pay attention or ignore me properly, he thought with enough force that it should have beamed into her brain directly.

Heather chewed at the corner of her lip and checked her texts again.

“Aren’t you supposed to ask questions?” he finally muttered.

She looked up, milk-mild. “Are you ready to answer them?”

You can’t trick me that easily. “Are they worth my time?”

“I certainly think so.” She tilted her head back and forth for a moment. “But it’s not up to me to decide. That’s your choice.”

“So I can just walk out right now?”

“Sure.”

Regulus only let himself pause for a second before regaining his composure. “I’m pretty sure my brother would murder me if I did that.”

“Your brother didn’t set up this appointment.” A smile made her face even kinder, like a storybook bear. “And I’m not allowed to discuss my other patients’ homicidal tendencies. But yes, Mr. Black—”

“Don’t call me that or I’ll puke, I promise.”

“—yes, Regulus, you are welcome to leave whenever you feel like it. I can’t legally force you into therapy and I don’t particularly want to. If you would prefer to sit here quietly, we’ve still got twenty minutes left.”

He bit the inside of his cheek.

“I have a spare crossword,” she offered.

Gifts. Of course. What an awful woman. He plucked absently at the threads of the armrest and slouched into the too-squishy cushions.

Silence reigned supreme for another five minutes and twenty-four seconds before Heather stretched her wrists and smiled at him again. “It’s good to see you, Regulus.”

“You don’t have to say that,” he snorted.

“I know.”

“So don’t.”

“Alright.” She tapped the side of her thumb on her clipboard. “I’m glad you came back. Is that better?”

“Will you stop with the mind games, please?”

Heather’s eyes softened. His skin crawled. “Regulus, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable in my office. I would vastly prefer it if you did something you enjoy with this time, rather than forcing yourself to come and sit there and be miserable. I’ll sit with you if you’d like, but it seems like that’s not helping.”

His lip curled against his will. “So Sirius told you I’m miserable?”

“I haven’t spoken to Sirius lately.”

“You should. He’s a disaster.” Ignore that I’m a screaming teenage trainwreck.

“If he gets in touch with me, I’ll happily make time.”

“He won’t,” Regulus informed her. He wondered if she would stop him. Was there a point where he was no longer allowed to talk about her other patients? He already felt pathetic enough for refusing to use any therapist except the one Sirius had vouched for.

Heather hummed. “Guess that’s for him to know, and for me to find out.”

Push push push push push— “He’s been a mess. He’s doing that implosion thing he does when I’m mean to him. It’s like he thinks everyone in the whole world depends on him to be happy, and the second they’re not, it’s his fault.”

“And have you?”

“Have I what?”

“Been mean to him?”

“Oh, yeah, I’ve been terrible.” Regulus frowned slightly and sat up. “You know I’m not a nice person, don’t you? You should know that before we start anything.”

Heather seemed interested, but not confused. Infuriating. “Okay.”

“Sirius is the nice one.”

“Okay.” She nodded for a moment. “Why is Sirius nice, but you’re not?”

“You’re not—” He bit his tongue. Being mean to Heather was not what he came here to do. Wasting his time with someone who didn’t understand was not the point of this. “Sirius would have been much happier as a suburban family’s well-loved dog. He’s good like that.”

“Okay.”

“I was ignored for three-quarters of my childhood and have half a dozen complexes and attachment issues because of it. I am not a nice person at all, and so I take it out on Sirius because—I don’t know, I think it’s supposed to feel good, since he had everything and then he left me.” She was still looking at him. Mild and kind. Was everyone in Gryffindor obtuse enough to think he was kidding? “Heather, I am telling you that I’m petty and mean and use my older brother as an emotional punching bag because our parents fucked us up. There is nothing you can say to help me.”

“Supposed to feel good?”

Regulus blinked. “Pardon?”

“You said it was ‘supposed to feel good’ when you’re mean to your brother.” Heather rested her head on her hand. He wasn’t sure when she had put her clipboard aside. “Does it feel good?”

“Oh my god, no,” Regulus laughed hoarsely. “No, it feels like I’m the worst person alive. Why does that change anything?”

--

I just wanted them to like me.

It hadn’t even been about love, in the end. He had given up on that. Forget about pride—that was a lost cause. But he had yearned to be liked, to have a smile turned on him like the ones he only remembered in blurry dreams between sleep and wakefulness. Their father had light crow’s feet by his eyes. They were probably deeper by now. Their love was never going to happen but it really would have been enough to simply be liked. Regulus had been bright enough to stop hanging on to them far sooner; oh, yes, he had always been the smart one.

Heather had seemed sad when he said that. Sirius hated making her sad.

--

Pascal thought he knew where the precipice was. He thought they had more time to reel that celestial disaster back from the brink before they tipped over it, clawing at each other for grip and for hurt. Looking back, he felt like an utter fool for thinking he could have stopped them.

--

“You fucking liar!”

“I wouldn’t lie to you!”

“Yes you would, you always do that!”

“I—” Sirius’ mouth snapped closed; his jaw ticked with tension. “I wouldn’t—”

“You do,” Regulus insisted angrily. “Our whole childhood, and now this. I won’t fall for it anymore.”

“I told you, I didn’t go through your things—”

“Stop it.”

“It was just changing the goddamn sheets—”

“Stop it.”

“God forbid I want you to sleep on something clean!” Sirius shouted back.

Regulus flushed red, bright against his dark hair. “Don’t yell at me!”

“Are you—you started yelling first, you pain in the ass!”

“Oh, I’m just a pain in the ass now?”

Sirius threw his hands in the air with a furious noise and folded them at his nape, shaking his head. His stomach hurt and trembled. His throat was tight, and every swallow had to fight its way around an iron fist. The inside of his cheek was raw and tender from his teeth. “You’re fucking delusional.”

Remus straightened fast. “Woah—”

“I’m delusional?” Regulus laughed humorlessly, hysterically, all dry bonfire wit. “I’m delusional? I’m not the one that tried to start a brand-new family when the old one failed!”

The insides of his ribs were scorched black. “Don’t bring Remus into this—”

“I’m talking about him!” Regulus’ arm shot out. One pale, skeletal finger hovered in midair, an executioner’s axe. A hairline tremor shivered over his skin; his eyes gleamed.

Dumo had both hands on Sirius’ broken toaster, and both eyes locked on Regulus’ hand in shock.

“You had it all planned out, didn’t you?” Regulus’ face contorted. “From the second they called your name on the television. You were going to billet and you were going to go to him and fuck the rest of us, is that it?”

Sirius couldn’t feel his hands. I still don’t know what I did. I still don’t think she’s forgiven me. “Regulus, no.”

But Regulus just nodded, tears welling up despite the guillotine edge of his voice. “You did. And thank fuck for that, because then Logan came along and a brand-new brother just dropped himself in your lap without any effort at all. Your perfect parents, your perfect brother, your perfect, perfect life. How convenient.”

He shook his head. “No. No, it’s not like that.”

But.

But it was. A little bit, it was. Dumo wasn’t his choice but he was Sirius’ escape. And Logan…Logan had been so alone, so afraid, so young, hiding under his baseball caps like Regulus used to hide under his toques. Sirius had caught too many sidelong glances of dark curls and bitten back the wrong name those first few months.

Regulus could smell it on him. Could read Sirius’ guilt like a child’s book. His eye twitched. “I told you not to lie.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Sirius said hoarsely.

“I don’t care.”

“It was not my intent—”

“Fuck your intent.”

Lightning spit up inside him and he choked it down, tasting iron as it went. “Will you let me speak? Or are you going to stand there and yell until you feel better?”

Regulus’ face turned blotchy with rage. “Don’t patronize me.”

“Then stop acting like a child,” he snapped back.

“You sound like—”

“Do not.”

Something burnt coated his tongue as the lightning licked off it in a whipcrack and sparked between them. Regulus looked away, fists balled tight against his sides.

Sirius let the burning out on a controlled breath. “Do not bring them into this,” he continued carefully, even as a scream built under his lungs, kicking its feet and howling. “Do not bring her into this. I am telling you right now that you will not like how it goes for you.”

Regulus’ mouth twisted, petulant and bitter. “You’re really going to threaten me? Now?”

“I don’t threaten, Regulus. I win.”

“Because everything is a competition,” he sneered.

“Because you know better than to start that fight.” Sirius caught his gaze and held it with clenched, snarling teeth. Regulus knew better. Always the smart one, always levelheaded. Regulus, the wordsmith, and Sirius, blowing up the ground he stood on as long as he didn’t come out on the bottom. Locked jaw or locked antlers, dragging them both over the canyon edge before any thought of retreat. He had shouted himself voiceless before bending to their father. A simple locked door couldn’t block the endless screaming matches from Regulus’ memory.

“This isn’t a tantrum,” Regulus said at last.

The slavering dog in Sirius’ head sat back and eased its hold. He jerked his chin. “Then get to the point.”

“You left.”

“I was always going to leave.”

Regulus flinched, but to his credit, kept going. “You replaced us. Me.”

“Logan was never you.” Logan, young and scared, but not Regulus. Never Regulus. It had only ever taken a moment for Sirius to right himself, and less than that to be buried alive in guilt.

Regulus stared at the kitchen table. His nailbeds were white where he clutched the back of a chair. They’d have to get more iron into him while he was home; Sirius didn’t trust the university food. “You never came back.”

“For holidays—”

“You never came back,” Regulus repeated, louder. He blinked fast a few times, inhaling sharply. “You were never there for more than a day or two. You’d go dead the second we sat down together. You never—you never came back.”

“Regulus, that house was going to kill me.”

It came out too soft for the weight of it in the room. Regulus closed his eyes and leaned forward, stretching his arms with an unsteady exhale. Sirius kept his focus despite the building sting in his eyes but he could feel Dumo’s gaze on his neck, could hear Remus’ short inhale. There was no coming back from this. Ever onward, clawing his way out of the depths.

“One way or another, it was,” he continued quietly. “So, no. I didn’t go back. I won’t.”

The blur of Regulus tilted his face toward the ceiling with another shaky breath, still blinking fruitlessly as drops of mirrored light slipped down his cheeks. “Then how—?” He broke off and cleared his throat hard enough to make Sirius wince. “How could you leave me there?”

“I didn’t want to.”

It meant nothing; they both knew that. It still felt right to get it out there.

“I thought you’d come back,” Regulus said. “I thought you’d try. Once—once you had your first paycheck, or something.”

It hurt so much more to hear old, broken hope than anger. “They knew where I lived.”

“Then we’d move.” We. A child’s daydream. They made me hate you, but I never did. A phone number memorized for six and a half years. “We’d go somewhere else.” Regulus ran his sleeve under his nose and shook his head. “I was so alone. I don’t—” He looked up and immediately, his lip curled in disgust. “Oh, god, don’t look at me like that.”

“Reg—”

“Like a fucking puppy, merde.” He yanked his sleeves down over his hands and scrubbed viciously at his face, lingering over his eyes a second longer before letting them dangle at his sides again. He sniffled, then did a double-take when he saw Remus and Dumo on the other side of the room. “Why are you still here?”

“Um.” Remus glanced over at Sirius, but he had nothing to offer. “It…felt wrong to leave.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, though the effect was dampened by his red cheeks and slight pout. “You are all so codependent.”

“Don’t be mean,” Sirius chided instinctively.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Regulus gave him a quick up-and-down look. “We’re both ugly criers. Shit. Yell at me again.”

“…no?”

“Just do it, it’ll make me feel better.”

“I’m not going to yell at you.”

“Don’t make me insult you more. My throat hurts.”

“Do you want a hug?”

“No.” They stood in silence for another fifteen seconds. Wool socks scuffed on the floor. Regulus gnawed at the inside of his lip, then stepped around the side of the table an inch. “If it’ll make you feel better.”

--

He was over six feet tall, now. His hockey muscle had yet to fade. He felt—

Small. He felt safe. A shudder ran down his aching back. It had been so long since he felt safe.

“Desolé.” Sirius’ voice vibrated in the burrow of his chest and Regulus pressed his face to it as hard as he could. “Desolé, mon etoile.”

Tears snuck up on him in bursts; he pushed closer, closer, tucking his arms between them and shuffling forward until he could stand on the front of Sirius’ stupid slippers and let the cold floor fall away. He was tired of drowning, but it was hard to remember how to let the water out.

Sirius sniffed above him. The kiss to the top of his head was more of a hard bump than anything else. His arms were tight and warm around Regulus’ back, one palm cupping the back of his head. “I never forgot you.”

“Je sais,” Regulus croaked back.

“I never forgot you.”

Don’t, don’t, don’t. He coughed to clear the brackish muck from his lungs. He wasn’t pretty like this, and he knew it. But neither was Sirius, so maybe that was okay. Just this once. He could be held like a child, just this once. It was a long time before they spoke again.

“I don’t want to see Heather anymore.” He breathed in Sirius’ laundry soap and the same deodorant they had both been wearing for years. The rushing flood in his head had become a stream, had become a trickle. His heartbeat pulsed behind his eye. “I want—I want to see someone else.”

Sirius’ shoulders relaxed enough that he could feel each muscle release. “Good.”

“I still haven’t told my friends about—the everything.” He felt Sirius nod and gathered two fistfuls of his hoodie. “I want to stay at school.”

“D’accord.”

“What if they find out?” He held on tighter, pressed his face to Sirius’ calm heart. “What happens when they find out how horrible I am?”

Sirius huffed. “You’re not horrible.”

“I am.” That was the deal. He was the villain so Sirius could be the hero. He was the junkyard. Spare parts to be hosed off and trotted out when they needed him.

“Regulus, you’re nineteen.”

He frowned. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Everyone’s horrible at nineteen.”

“What if I’m…” He wracked his brain for something smart. It blew a raspberry at him and fucked off back to sleep. “…extra horrible?”

Sirius sighed, scratching lightly behind his ears. Regulus felt his eyelids droop against his will. “If you turn out to be extra horrible by—I don’t know, 21, we’ll talk.”

“What if they fucked us both up too bad?”

He winced—Sirius’ steady motions stuttered briefly. He hadn’t meant to let that one slither out from its careful cage. That was a thought for sleepless nights in a cold hotel bed and watching the sun rise in a strange city through dry, tired eyes. When his hands were blistered and bleeding, he’d wonder whether that Black blood could ever really be gone from him.

Sirius’ head was a gentle pressure on his own. “Then it’s us against the world, isn’t it?”

--

Gryffindor airport was quiet at 7 in the morning. Dumo stifled a yawn in the back of his hand as he passed the rolling suitcase to a boy that was far too awake for the early hour, in his opinion. Youths.

“You have everything?” Sirius checked. “You’ll be safe?”

“I’m literally fine.” Regulus arched a brow. “And less than four hours away, if you speed.”

“You’ll call when you land.”

“I’ll text.”

Sirius wrinkled his nose. “If you don’t, I’m filing a missing person report.”

Regulus turned to Remus. “Can you keep him on a leash? Or just sedate him?”

“You think I haven’t tried?” Remus laughed.

Sirius fixed them both with a weak scowl. “Will you just get on the plane?”

“I thought you wanted me to stay.”

“I want you—” Sirius took Regulus by the shoulders and turned him around with a firm grip. “—to have fun and live life and not die. The bar is on the ground. Do not dig under it.”

“Killjoy.”

“Pest.” Sirius kissed the top of his head. “Fly safe. Text.”

“Wait until I’m on the place before you start crying. I don’t want your gross emotions all over me.”

“Well, we can’t disturb your delicate sensibilities.”

“Sirius?”

“Reg.”

Regulus paused, laden with his duffel and rolling bag, and kicked the toe of Sirius’ sneaker lightly. “Love you.”

Sirius’ smile was close-lipped and small and brighter than the rising sun outside the massive bay windows. He kicked him back, even more gently. “Get on your plane.”

[sweet-child]

Bargaining

To negotiate over the terms of a purchase, agreement, or contract

to come to terms

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

In which we discover how Soda is after Johnny and Dallas' death. a/n: I hope you enjoy this, anon! This was my first time writing him! <3

Warning: You might cry. "Please, Enjoy." · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

He wished he forced Dallas to tell him where Pony and Johnny was at. Soda thinks he could've brought Pony and Johnny home, without Johnny getting injured.

He tried visiting Johnny and Dal in the hospital

When Pony walked through the door and said that Johnny was dead, he was terrified.

He thought of Johnny like a little brother.

And he was scared for Dallas.

He had a gut feeling something bad was about to happen

When Dallas called the house, he knew that Dal did something stupid.

Sodapop's heart dropped to his stomach, seeing Dal pull out a gun.

He tried to be the first to Dal's side, tears swelling in his eyes.

He smoked around 5 cigarretes that night.

He cried himself to sleep

The next few days, he felt guilty.

"I should've went with them" "I should've followed Pony out the door." "I could've helped.."

But he quickly realised that he needed to be strong for Ponyboy.

He started planning the funeral for Johnny and Dallas.

He used the money from his savings to get Dally and Johnny a head stone.

He picked up extra shifts to pay for the caskets

He invited Dallas' dad and Johnny's parents to the shared funeral.

When Johnny's parents didn't show up, he was furious.

Not at the fact that he did the planning for them, but at the fact that they could care less about attending Johnny's funeral. 'It's there fault,' he somehow convinced himself.

He wanted to beat Johnny's father, like how he beat Johnny for the past years. He wanted to scream to them about how fucked up they are. About how they're heartless monsters. He wanted to yell, to scream at the top of his lungs, at them. Sodapop, one of the kindest souls on Earth, wanted to beat Johnny's father with a belt like he did Johnny for so long.

Darry convinced him not too. 'It's not what Johnny would've wanted.'

He listened, but he threw beer bottles at their front door.

He visits their grave everyday, keeping them updated on turf wars, what the gang was doing, etc.

He left Dallas' ring and St Christopher necklace at the bottom part of the headstone

He put smokes and a small copy of 'Gone With the Wind' on Johnnys.

Sodapop wanted to put Johnny's jacket on his grave, but Ponyboy wanted to keep it.

He'd try to clean the graves, when they got dirty.

If ANYONE brought up Johnny or Dal infront of Sodapop, especially a soc, the next words better be kind or Steve will have to hold him back from breaking a nose.

When Sodapop got drafted, he visited their graves and told them about how he was worried about Two-bit, and Steve, and Darry, and especially Ponyboy and how they would react to the news. He, however, told them he thought it was good he served his country.

The day before he deployed, he visted their grave and talked about coming back alive, and how he refused to leave his brothers (blood and not). How he refused to die in another country, and how he wasn't going to let them mourn him.

Months later, a headstone was placed next to them.

'Here Lies Sodapop Curtis, a brother, a friend, and a veteran. 1948-19XX, Killed in Action.'

[wishful-seeker]

My simplified story of my CRPS and experience with ketamine.

I've had crps for 5 years now. I developed it at 18 years old after completing a triathlon and getting tendinitis in my knee, which became crps. Over the course of 2 years it spread to both knees, both elbows, and both wrists. For the past 3 years i have been mostly bedridden. I couldn't walk for more than 3 minutes and even when i did it was excruciating, i couldn't touch a computer, any video games, i couldn't write anymore, i could barely make art anymore, i had to stop writing in my journal and had to keep it on my phone because of my pain. I cannot even sit in chairs or drive or run or jump. I use a wheelchair when i leave the house. When it was its worse it felt like i was being burned alive. I remember days when feeling okay lasted literal seconds and then it was gone. I remember days being in so much pain i couldn't pick up my phone and my mom had to spoon feed me. Days where all i could do was lay in bed and think. I remember days when i desperately wanted to go outside and feel the sun, when i walked outside i would count to 10. I would soak up everything i could in those 10 seconds, the colors of the sky and the fresh air. When the time was up i went back to bed and couldn't do that again for another few days.

I started ketamine infusions a year ago, i was diagnosed last year. I had infusions before i was diagnosed. First we did a 2 hour infusion. It worked wonders, for six weeks i actually jumped on a trampoline for a few minutes almost everyday, i even climbed the low branch of a tree and sat on it. Then we did a 4 hour infusion. The results were not the same. I tried four more 4 hour infusions every six weeks, but there was no relief. I was devastated. I thought the universe was cruel to even give me such hope. Then i got diagnosed and i was told of a place in Clearwater Florida with dr. Hanna that did infusions differently. I went there and met him, he prescribed a 4 hour infusion every day for 10 days, 5 days, the weekend off, then 5 more days, he also prescribed oral ketamine, 30mg 3 times a day on the weekend, one at night on infusion days. I did that. It was the hardest thing I've ever been through. It felt like dying a thousand times. I almost gave up and left early because i hate the experience of ketamine so much. But after the fifth day my dad noticed me bouncing my leg when i was sitting, something i did all my life up until crps which made it too painful. Thats when we realized, since the second infusion, i was in ZERO pain, none at all. That continued until i got home and i had a flair. I always get a flair after infusions, this is very normal for me, but it was scary. I worried the hardest thing i had ever done wasn't worth it. The flair ended, and i tried playing minecraft, my favorite game I've been unable to play for years. I had a system: play for 20 minutes, rest for 20 minutes, and repeat. I played for HOURS. I tried again the next day and it was the same, and the day after that, and the day after that. Six weeks after Clearwater i had whats called a booster infusion, which was 2 days of 4 hour infusions. Then i went two MONTHS until needing my next infusions, which i had two weeks ago.

Here is what my life looks like now: im still in bed most of the time, but i do not think of the pain, it doesn't distract me. It used to be 7-10/10 now its 3-6/10. I play minecraft with my best friend almost everyday often all day. Last week i painted a dresser. I have a garden i lightly care for each day. After the infusions before this one i had a day where i was completely able bodied, i baked a pie, went to the park, transplanted plants and played minecraft. Not only this, but even when the infusions wear off it still has permanent beneficial effects. In the past, no ketamine meant i was taking 4 scolding hot baths a day to soothe the pain in my knees. Now no ketamine means bath some days, maybe 2.

It's over. I made it. I made it to a life i thought was impossible and its not even done getting better. I am happy. I am not suffering. I am regaining freedom. It. Is. Over.

[chierafied]

2 - Surprise

Louder Than Words: Reprise

SessKag Fluff Week, Day 3: Valentine's

Prompt: Surprise 915 words. AO3. A continuation of sorts of my earlier fic Louder Than Words.

Sesshoumaru had no trouble with machines. Oh, they were frequently vexing and sometimes even he couldn’t figure out why something had decided to stop working as it should. Nevertheless, there was usually a logic to them.  

And if all else failed, he could pry open the casing and poke around the different components and see how it all worked. Or have a look at the source code and hunt down where something had gone wrong. 

But people, to him, remained a mystery. 

Higurashi Kagome was a people person. There was no doubt about it. She was always friendly with everyone. She smiled often and always seemed to be ready and willing to chat for a bit with any and all of their coworkers.  

In a stark contrast, Sesshoumaru was most comfortable when he was alone in his own office in the IT department. Though he had to leave the safety of his lair on occasion, often to fix misbehaving machinery or attend a boring meeting that could have as well been an email, he vastly preferred to troubleshoot and interact with people from a distance.  

Higurashi Kagome couldn’t have been more different from him. And maybe, he wondered to himself as he stared at his computer screen, that was why he had gravitated to her from the start. 

She’d been working with them for a year and half now. She worked in communications, which was probably the one department outside of IT that Sesshoumaru knew best. He’d befriended their graphics designer Miroku during the website revamp from a few years’ back.  

Sesshoumaru had been silently smitten with Kagome since she first smiled at him in passing at the cafeteria queue. He’d overheard her chatting with that red-haired youngster from communications and from that single everyday conversation alone he could tell she was bubbly and kind and smart.  

Unlike some people in their organisation, Kagome wasn’t hopeless with technology. She was responsible for all their social media, after all. And yet, for the past six weeks, she seemed to be running into tech trouble constantly, calling him at least twice a week. On seven different occasions, she’d talked him into grabbing lunch together.  

She always chatted with him a bunch, all nice and friendly. Flashed him bright and frequent smiles. Touched him every now and then, though he was sure most of those little brushes were accidental. Still, it was driving him mad.  

His crush had by now grown roots. And with every interaction with Kagome, a new branch would sprawl out. The feelings were getting out of hand and harder to contain with every passing day.  

Glumly, Sesshoumaru picked up his coffee mug and pushed out of his chair. A booster hit of caffeine would perk him right back up. 

There was a knock on his door. Higurashi Kagome peeked in, beaming at him. 

“Hi! Do you have a moment?” 

His heart stuttered in his chest and he had to clear his throat before he could reply. “Sure. Was just about to get coffee.” He lifted his mug in a sorry salute. 

“Great!” Kagome’s eyes sparked and she walked into his office. “I really wanted to make sure I got these to you today.” 

Sesshoumaru blinked, trying to clear both his vision and confusion. But as the sight he was seeing didn’t waver, perhaps he wasn’t imagining the cellophane-wrapped pouch that Kagome was holding out to him. 

“What’s this?” he asked cautiously, even as a wild fluttering flock was let loose in his stomach. 

“It’s chocolate, made by hand by yours truly! Happy Valentine’s Day, Sesshoumaru!” 

“Thank you.” Sesshoumaru inclined his head, a little stiff. He accepted the gift and studied the assortment of chocolate truffles in various shapes and featuring different toppings. They looked delicious and really well made. 

He shouldn’t get too worked up about the gesture. Sure, the obligatory chocolates women gave to their male co-workers weren’t typically this elaborate handmade kind, but Kagome seemed kind enough to go for the extra mile, even for the gift chocolates. 

He couldn’t help wondering what her confession chocolate might look like, since these were already the nicest Valentine’s chocolates he’d ever got. 

“I’m glad you thought of me,” he said, looking down at the chocolates. His cheeks were burning, and he hoped she hadn’t noticed that he was blushing. 

The rustle of her skirt was his only warning. Then, her scent was filling his nostrils, and her hair was tickling his neck as she leaned in close. The kiss she planted on his cheek was too brief and utterly electrifying. Even as she pulled back, smiling bright, the warmth and softness of her lips against his skin lingered. 

“I won’t take any more of your time, I know you must be busy,” she said, smoothing down her skirt. “But let me know what you think.” 

She winked at him and left his office. Floored, flummoxed and flabbergasted, Sesshoumaru stood right where she had left him, still shivering and stupefied by her kiss. 

It was only then that he noticed the card peeking out from under the wrapped chocolates.  

He pried it open with trembling fingers. And as his gaze quickly drank in the handwritten words, his heart raced up his throat. Awe prickled in the tips of his toes, flooding his entire frame as it started to finally dawn on him: Sesshoumaru knew exactly what Kagome’s confession chocolate looked like. 

He was currently cradling them, and the sweet emotions they represented, in his hand. 

[gorogues]

15 Questions for 15 People

Tagged by @sammysdewysensitiveeyes -- thank you!

Are you named after anyone?

No, actually. I think my parents just liked the name.

2. When was the last time you cried?

The last time was over a sad news story, but I'm not certain what it was or how long ago. Might have been about the fire in Maui.

3. Do you have kids?

Just the four-legged kind (yeah, I'm one of those people).

4. What sports do you play/have you played?

I'm clumsy as hell and have never been good at anything involving co-ordinated activities, though I used to be an okay sprinter. My joints hate me now so all I can do is walk these days, and that's what I do nearly every day.

5. Do you use sarcasm?

It's just one of many services I offer.

6. What's the first thing you notice about people?

Anything notable except the eyes. Unfortunately when I'm really stressed in social interactions I tend to not notice much or anything at all, basically putting all my cognitive resources into not being rude or acting like a complete social idiot. When less stressed, I'll focus on anything visually distinctive about them + their voice to remember them in the future. My facial recognition skills aren't great, and it's so embarrassing when I run into a casual acquaintance and they know who I am but I don't recognize them at all. Or I recognize their voice when they speak, but look rude for not acknowledging them earlier.

7. What's your eye color?

Green, probably -- one eye is slightly more brown so I was wondering if they might be considered hazel, but I think they're overall more green than hazel.

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

Happy endings for sure, as I'm a huge wuss who can't take scary. Makes me anxious and rattled for a long time afterward.

9. Any talents?

Hopefully I've got decent writing skills. My best talents are probably a good memory and a stupid dogged persistence which have served well in my hobbies but are often a hindrance in everyday social interactions.

10. Where were you born?

Toronto, Ontario.

11. What are your hobbies?

Comics, obviously, and I'm hardcore into genealogy these days. I like writing fic when I've got the inspiration/motivation (that's been rare these past few years), and enjoy thrifting, tea, photography, and minerals.

12. Do you have any pets?

One cat, who is pure trouble. We found her last year while out for our daily walk, and she followed us more than a kilometre home despite a pronounced limp. Turns out she had an abscess on her hip, and once treated she regained her ability to jump and walk normally.

13. How tall are you?

5'9.5". That half-inch is important because I've got a curved spine and feel robbed of my full 5'10 :>

14. Favorite subject in school?

History or geography.

15. What is your dream job?

Always wanted to work in a museum as a curator or an archivist of the collection.

Tag 15 people (these are some folks I haven't seen tagged with this): @tricksterrune @hesmiledlikeaweatherman @longitudinalwaveme @purplecyborgnewt @kenais-posts @demonbirdsforever @octy-gone @jessequinnfirstofhername @ohhicas

As always, don't feel obliged to do this, and feel free to do it even if not tagged!

[kikizoshi]

Godos Fluff Headcanons I Absolutely Adore

(...and some general lifestyle headcanons thrown in)

-Nikolai likes to cover Fyodor with his cloaks/capes sometimes when they hug (like in those long, rocking hugs). It gives him a feeling of comfort, like Fyodor's safe and nothing can hurt him. Fyodor likes it too; to him it feels like an extra layer of endearment and makes him feel safe, secure and loved (plus it's warm).

-Nikolai is one of the few people Fyodor trusts entirely with his ushanka. This isn't a small thing--he usually doesn't even like to let people touch it, but he even trusts Nikolai to spot clean it for him.

-Nikolai absolutely loves to take care of Fyodor, which works well, because Fyodor likes being taken care of. This extends to cooking (where Nikolai will often ask Fyodor to pick one new dish to try to go with whatever staple meal Nikolai's making that week), making him tea most days and keeping the berry preserves stocked up, and nursing Fyodor when he's sick.

Nikolai doesn't enjoy trying to get Fyodor to remember to eat, or sleep, or shower, sometimes, but he takes Fyodor's health even more seriously than his own most of the time, and so is usually trying out some new method to achieve at least one of these things.

-Nikolai worked as a stage actor before he took up terrorism, and practiced a lot at home. Fyodor would often watch his practicing, occasionally give feedback, and they might talk a bit about the story afterwards. This was a common before-dinner activity for them, which was mostly for fun, but also helped Fyodor get out of his work headspace and into his home headspace, and of course Fyodor's psychology-based feedback often helped Nikolai with his nuances in his delivery.

-Dinner is a very important together time for them. Both make a point of having dinner together as often as possible, so that they're sure to have time together to talk. Though late-night conversations are also common with them, there's always a chance of Fyodor being sucked back into work or Nikolai needing extra time to work something out/rehearsals or shows taking place at night, so they make dinner the designated time together. Also, since their dinner is usually a dish Nikolai made, Nikolai likes to share the food with Fyodor, and Fyodor likes to appreciate the shared food with Nikolai.

-Depending on how late Nikolai's shows ran while he was in a play and what came after, they may have dinner together as late as 1 or 2 in the morning, but still, they always ate together (Fyodor was almost never ready to go to sleep by then anyway, which I'm sure helped, but the idea that he shared his usually alone-time with Nikolai is sweet to me).

-Regarding the dishes: generally the system is that Nikolai cooks and Fyodor cleans. The everyday dishes are usually washed by Fyodor, since he goes to sleep much later than Nikolai and often has several cups of tea and snacks long after Nikolai's gone to bed. Nikolai puts away the clean dishes in the morning, long before Fyodor wakes up.

-Regarding their sleep schedules: Nikolai (according to himself) tends to find his moods and general thought process annoyingly mercurial if he ends up more than an hour off his sleep cycle, and so is fairly regular with going to sleep around 23-24 and getting up around 6-7 (giving up his precious productive night hours was hard on him--the time past 1-ish when your brain lets you be creative--but he soon learned to replace them with alcohol). This of course can be completely thrown out of balance when he has rehearsals/shows, but the rest of the year, he sticks to it religiously.

Fyodor has no such trouble with moods and, like Nikolai, finds his best hours to be in the early morning. So, he generally goes to bed around 3-5 and wakes up at 11. Unlike Nikolai--whose body, like a clock, always keeps him asleep for exactly eight hours--Fyodor relies on alarms and always gets up at 11, unless he has somewhere to be earlier. He doesn't generally go to bed earlier though, so he just tends to be (more) tired on those days.

-Fyodor's usually tired (either from his sleep schedule, physical ailments, or both), and his energy levels tend to range from moderate to low. At first this irritated Nikolai for a bit, I think, but he eventually came to learn what Fyodor's low-energy emotes meant (which can look kind of funny when Nikolai reacts to an emotion that seemingly isn't being expressed).

-Nikolai loves swing dancing, but Fyodor doesn't usually have the stamina for it. So instead, when the dancing itch arrives, they waltz or do some slower dance with a bit of verve. Dancing's difficult in the narrow living room, but they manage (and, when Nikolai's brother and sister-in-law come over, he swing dances with them, which Fyodor enjoys watching).

-There's a park a few roads down from where they live, and they often in the late spring and early summer enjoy playing violin and cello together out in the greenery. Nikolai especially loves when the birds twitter while they're playing.

-Speaking of birds, Nikolai also loves going out with Fyodor and pigeon-spotting. Sometimes he'll take a bag of breadcrumbs to sprinkle for the birds they come by. He does this alone too, but enjoys sharing this activity with Fyodor.

-Nikolai also, when he has more free time, enjoys bird-watching. He keeps a journal of the different birds he sees, how many, etc. When he gets up at about 6, they're really active, and sometimes he'll luxuriate in an hour of peaceful bird-watching and documentation from the kitchen window. (Unfortunately, the window view is onto the street, so he doesn't see as many as he would in a park or garden, but he still sees enough to be somewhat satisfied.)

Fyodor isn't very interested in birds in and of themselves, but he loves listening to Nikolai's enthusiasm, love for and musings about the little creatures, and so will often ask about Nikolai's recent sightings when he knows Nikolai's been bird-watching.

-Fyodor loves to use terms of endearment. 'My Dove' and 'Dear' are his favourites outside of 'Kolya' (and its variants). Nikolai likes to take inspiration from the moment to make pet names, so may say something like 'My Little Red-Nose' (when Fyodor's sick) or 'Drowned Rat' (when Fyodor's wet and upset about it) (I imagine most of them would be animal or food related, but my imagination has a rough time keeping up with Nikolai's), as well as 'Fedya' (and its variants). He might also call Fyodor 'Fedka' if he's feeling derisive enough, though I can't imagine Fyodor would ever call Nikolai 'Kolka'.

-One thing Nikolai loves about Fyodor is that, when Nikolai gets into one of his black moods, where he can't seem to enjoy or appreciate anything, and, in general, just wants to sink into nothingness, Fyodor understands and doesn't judge him, nor expect more. Fyodor will usually take up the cooking (which... his food is usually bland and tasteless, but neither care all that much in those times), keeps the lights dimmer/curtains drawn, and most of all lets Nikolai come to him.

He also doesn't complain about lack of hugs, though they're very important to him. Nikolai finds hugs disturbing in a black mood, because he can't feel anything from them, and so they just distress him. It is harder on Fyodor than I think he usually admits to himself though, not being able to hug or pet or really comfort at all his friend who's in so much pain.

-Fyodor doesn't like being around drunk people, but Nikolai often relies on alcohol to get him into the right headspace to work. To compromise, Nikolai tries not to get more than tipsy around Fyodor, generally going for lightly buzzed, and usually does it while Fyodor's working. (Though this does go out the window sometimes if Nikolai wants badly enough to numb his emotions.)

-Fyodor gets miserably sick relatively frequently (~3-4 times a year), often with the changing of the seasons, which usually knocks him out for a solid two weeks. Nikolai hovers and cares for him with all the terrified devotion of a mother whose baby suffers from scarlet fever. The sheer nervous energy emitted from Nikolai tends to overwhelm and tire Fyodor out, but he still finds Nikolai being there to take care of and be with him to be more comforting than if he was alone (him having to comfort Nikolai tires him out, but also helps him feel more at peace). (Occasionally, maybe a little less than once a year, Fyodor will have a seizure bad enough to keep him in bed for a few days, and the dynamic's about the same as when he's sick.)

-A few times, Nikolai kept vigil over Fyodor's sick body (the first time being after a particularly bad seizure left Fyodor bedridden for five days, a few months into their friendship). It… Well, let's just say it never ended well for Nikolai. Fyodor eventually managed to calm Nikolai down enough about his frailty to get him to compromise on sleeping close together (though Fyodor first tried sending Nikolai away, Nikolai worked himself into an even bigger panic when he couldn't see how Fyodor was doing).

-Nikolai is absolutely terrified of doctors. He's also a borderline hypochondriac. Thankfully, Nikolai's aggressively healthy (except for some minor stomach issues and some major mental issues), so this isn't often a problem. However, the few times it was, and Fyodor genuinely needed Nikolai to go to a doctor, it always took a very long and drawn-out discussion to convince Nikolai that the doctors weren't going to torture him to death (Fyodor never learned what exactly Nikolai was afraid of, but it seemed something along the lines of what you'd expect from a BCE Chinese torture chamber, or Yosano's clinic).

-Needless to say, Fyodor's spent many a night listening to Nikolai's fears and explaining why they're likely not one of The Horrors. He might have gotten tired of it, except Nikolai's fears were usually so creative and obscure that Fyodor actually often found them fascinating.

[writingtohealmytrauma]

5/4/24

she left me 2 months ago and the pain is still so real and unbearable. 8 years of our life gone, she is now a stranger we dont talk, i want to talk so bad but she wants to move on and asked us not to message i want to talk to her everyday but i need to respect her decision's she still hasnt blocked me and i cant bring myself to block her number, not that it would do any good as i know her number off by heart, i managed to get the strength to archive our conversations so im not constantly seeing her name and our life everytime i message someone, i had been messaging her out of desperation and longing for connection with her and i can see by the read reciepts that she is seeing my message but choosing not to respond and it just hurts so much that this is clearly what she really wants and she is trying her hardest to get over me and us.

she tells me "We pushed it as far as we could" in reality she pushed it as far as she wanted. she tells me that she wants to have a family and she doesnt see a future with us after 8 years so she needs to leave me and find someone else to have a family with. she's 26 and wants to have kids before 30? so she cant waste any more time with us. i spent my life serving her, but it wasnt enough. i gave her everything. i literally made her breakfast and dinner every day for 3 years to prove my love to her, i flew her business class around the world i showed her a life she never dreamed off. i was there every day when she got home waiting to hear about her day, i ALWAYS made and had time for her always. she was my purpose i lived to serve her. all i ever wanted was to marry her, everyone use to have a go at me saying "why dont you marry her?" "hurry up and put a ring on her finger" like i was the problem? she was the one that would never commit. all i wanted was a family and life with her. I know her past trauma's have played a huge part in all of this, she come from a very broken family and has carried alot of trauma her whole life that she refused to deal with and that leaked into our relationship in so many ways. i truly believe if she had of dealt with her passed issues we would stil be here. she was not the only one to blame i also brought issues to the table but i have worked and turned myself out inside as a person to try and fix/overcome these and i feel i really did. she had an avoidance schema which was a real issue she would always run and shut off from us whenever things were hard, my mind is constantly telling me she was overwhelmed and her avoidance schema kicked in and thats why she ended it as there was no good reason to end it, weeks before she ended it she was telling me that she was finallly ready to get engaged after 8 years?? im so confused? I worry that she has realised this was an overreaction to a minor problem but her pride is stopping her from saying hey this is blown out of proportion can we try and fix this?? i would come running! i'd lay my life down to fix this, what ever it took whatever love she needed it is hers. I worry by the time she comes to this conclusion i will have moved on, not because i wanted to but because the pain is to great and i dont want to take my own life from grief. does one ever truly move on? will i still think about her in years too come? there is that weird sense of hope that we will get back together but i cant hold onto that. when we first started dating she saw a psychic (I dont believe in that stuff) but he told her that she was going to meet her partner and they would be together for life like penguins and that she would have twins with them. over the years i truly believed that and i made that a promise to myself that she was my penguin and that we would be together forever and have twins and i held onto that promise for so long, that promise got me through the hardest time in our relationship and now i feel its been broken it makes me sick to think that im not her penguin and some other man might be? she will have twins and a family with another man? makes me want to curl up and die.

It hurts so much that she wants to move on she couldnt do it anymore 8 years, meant nothing i know she wasnt in it for a long time i just kept pushing and pushing and exhuasting myself trying to fix it, i knew in the back of my mind that it was over a long time ago and that we wouldnt work in the future. she was my best friend though and the only family ive ever had all i wanted was to serve her and love her but there was always this twisted gut feeling in my stomach everytime i thought about our future, not from fear just uncertainty. we broke up once before for a short period of time and she bought someone back to our house within a couple days of us breaking up my mind reels at the thoughts of who she is with now who she is seeing.

**DREAM

I had a dream last night that we met up and i asked had she been with anyone else i asked her and i wanted her to say yes so i could hate her and move forwards in my dream she told me after a week of us separating that she had been sleeping with someone else she began to describe the sexual encounter to me with such joy saying it was hot and sweaty and that they didn't use protection and i remember feeling such a sense of a rage and sadness and sickness all at once in my dream, the though of her with another man made my sick. **DREAM

i woke up and i felt relieved as my mind was still telling me that was a real conversation and i hated her and could let her go and after properly waking up and realising it was a dream i cant shake the feeling the thoughts of that dream and what it meant to me. now i feel like i need to know if she is sleeping with other people so i can move on? WHY IS MY MIND ATTACKING ME LIKE THIS? i want to know that she is with other people so i can hate her so i can detach as i feel thats the only way i can move forward but at the same time i dont want to know either. i have no interest in other women right now, i dont think i ever will. i gave her every part of my heart and soul. ive only ever slept with 2 people in my life and have no interest in sleeping around being with other people, the thought makes me feel sick.

everytime i see anything slightly sexual it reminds me of her it makes me feel sick to my guts as to who she is with. i was her first and she was my second and to be intimate almost every day with the same person for 8 years is so special. i think its a mix of jealousy and fear fear because i know what other men are like and what they are capable and that she has not been exposed to how feral men can be and jealousy because what if she finds someone better than me? what if they pleasure her better or love her more. what if she is more attracted to them then me? she said to me that she still loves me and thats not that she doesnt want me she just doesnt think we have a future?? which is so insanely confusing cause how can you love and want someone but not be willing to commit to marriage and life together and risk going out into the world and hoping you find the connect you had with someone else.

she was my bestfriend, all i wanted was to be around her and in her presence and i think that makes this all so much harder for me. i feel like im one of those people that is always surrounded by people but feel so alone always. she took away the loneliness made me feel complete and normal maybe it was bad that i needed her to make me feel that way, maybe i should learn to feel that way before getting into another relationship. thats what everyone tells you to do. but does anyone actually truly do that? does anyone ever wait untill they are complete and feel whole before getting into another relationsip? i feel like if you were complete and happy being alone you would never get into a relationship at all so i feel like that kind of advice is a lie? what else would compel you to be in a relationship if you have learnt to be happy alone, i understand women having a biological clock and im led to beleive that some women have overwhelming maternal instincts and the need to have children but as a some what succesful male, if i learn to be happy aloen and enjoy my own company? why would i want to get into a relationship what would be the driving force behind that? so i think that type of thinking is a lie and fanciful.

i feel scared to go back home, i know i need to though. i left the state i live in to go stay with my cousins for a wgile to try and clear my head i dont know if it has helped our made things worse? im genuinely not sure.

im so scared of running into her, im so scared of running into her with another man. i dont know how to deal with these feelings of fear and jealousy. i just love her so much and my heart screams for her day in an day out.

even writing this now i feel sick at the thought the she is talking to somoene else and flirting with them and doing sexual things with them.

i think the hardest thing for me to grasp is her being sexually intimate with someone else. that seems to be the trigger for me to spiral and feel sick.

my psycologist told me that those are grief thoughts and to label them grief thoughts and that they will pass but they just make me sicker and sicker everytime i think of them.

im not eating, im not sleeping all i do is train. i feel so insecure and so scared i feel like ive aged so much in our relationship and that im ugly and un lovable so im just destroying my body to stay fit and become stronger than i am. i worry its becoming a mental ilnness almost a body dysphoria i hate myseld and everything about myself.

she was younger than me buy a couple of years and i know she is going to date someone younger than me and they will be fitter and stronger than me and it just hurts so much to think that.

i get angry cause i feel like she used me and robbed me of my life and my best years and that she never had any intention of seeing this through. she just used me as a vessel to get her setup in a career and financially.

[panzershrike-pretz]

HIIIIIII PRETZ! which of your ocs would fit "the tradition" by halsey? really interested to see who...

HEY BLUUUUUU, SO SORRY I TOOK SO LONG- O had to get in the mood for new music and finally inspiration struck. SO

First of all, this somg is fucking amazing?? Why did I take so long to actually listen to it??

Anyway this turned out longe than i expected so to the depts of the "read more" it goes

Going off of voice alone, I could very well see this as a voice claim for Juni- but the song doesn't fit her. It actually made me think of Emma!

I'm still working on her sheet, but in short, before Emma ended up with her current family she did have some troubles in her past; with her biological family, former relationships and life in general.

"Oh, the loneliest girl in town is bought for pennies of prize

We dress her up in lovely gowns, she's easy on the eyes

Her soul is black and it's a fact that a sneer will eat you alive

And the buyer always brings her back because all she does is cry"

Right off the bat I knew this song would fit her. Emma was born to a wealthy family around the 1900's, all of which were magic - except for her, so she always felt that loneliness. She dressed up pretty, to be shown off by her dad, but at the end of the day she was very very miserable. She felt like the main attraction of a circus whenever her dad would show her off-

She grew out of it tho, and so did her powers as they developed! (By almost burning her half brother alive by accident but oh well. Sometimes tou gotta blow up un flames at the dinner table) and then she became more confident in herself and her ideals.

"So take what you want, take what you can

Take what you please, don't give a damn

Ask for forgiveness, never permission

Take what you want, take what you can

Take what you please, don't give a damn

It's in the blood and this is tradition"

^ the last line makes me think of her magical-pureblood lineage, and how she was seen as lesser because she didn't have powers for so long.

Ok, funny thing is. Emma was a thief for much of her life after she ran away from home (away from that family). She lived in the slums of France for a couple years as she took upon herself to try and get a chance to get away from Europe (her plans were to travel to Brazil, so she could study the magical plants found there; she was on her way to be a Magical-herbologist)

... But as First World War happened she saw herself having to deal with it and her plans were cut short. She decided to enlist as a nurse ans so she did, until she found herself falling head over heals for this stupid haunted soldier man who needs a name but i'm a lazy shit :> (and they were hunted down by the Creatures of Shadows until they were found and rescued by Miss Seagull but that's besides the point)

"You can take it back, it's good as gone

Well, flesh amnesiac, this is your song

And I hope what's left will last all summer long

And they said that boys were boys, but they were wrong"

From my interpretation of this bit, I can connect it with her brief (?) relationship with The Guy (nameless bitch), as in- she was so so in love and he. Fucked Off one day,,, left my baby there to feel sad and alone again (yeah she had the other peculiar children with her but It Wasn't The Same).

She was stuck there on a Time Loop for all of about 80(?) years. 80 years of everyday being the same summer day, unable to move on from her love until the loop colapsed and they were forced to flee- and her mind came crumbling down on her because while she was stuck, he mooved the fuck on and grew old and fucking died (this bit here was inspired by MPHFPC, so yeah,,,)

Anyway she's still a thief :3 but now she gets paid to do it :3

Here is my analysis of the song + character- i'd say it fits only past Emma, as she's now over it (fucking finally-), but its still Emma nonetheless

Here, have this doodle of Emma Crying Over A Man and Ottilie being so done

Ottilie the Olorotitan is the official psychologist. She can't take it anymore-