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rise-my-angel · 2 months

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Heart of the Great Wolf

43 - Waving Tides of Turmoil

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

Length: 14.6k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, slight canon lore divergence, animal death, past character death, religious discussion, non explicit mention of past rape/sexual assault, light smut, oral (f receiving)

Notes: The lore change is slight addition to an object from a book specific plot point, in order to write around a certain talking door that I really did not want to adapt. But it shouldn't change the overall lore of the story. Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here

There was a specific memory Jon was unable to ever get out of his mind. But he knew it was odd it was the one it was. In his bed at Castle Black, he had woken up far earlier in the morning then he wanted to be, but he had much to do and too little time to get it prepared. But when his eyes fluttered open, it was that sight he felt his heart flip at.

Pulled tight back into his arms, you were fast asleep. He never had this. Not the way that morning was, you were a beautiful sight for him in a way no one else could possible understand. The only peace Jon had and would see on you for months as he leaned up more. Pulling your hair out of his path, but he was hesitant to do what felt so natural. Press his lips down to your cheek, neck, whatever he could reach but he wouldn't do it.

Things then were unsure, and you were trapped within the horrific fear of memory so soon escaped which Jon still did not truly know about. You had lied to him about how bad it was, Theon had lied, later Maester Wolkan would lie. They all lied to him about what Ramsay really did to you at his worst, and he recalled that first morning waking up with you in this arms he despised that he would be leaving you to awake thinking he abandoned you.

It took months to coax you into a state that wasn't always terrified, and even now he saw the cracks of it appear behind your dedication to seeming as if you were beyond that struggle anymore. But he knew that pair of pale blue eyes haunted you, and the longer you were here at the Nightfort the more Jon was starting to think perhaps you were forgetting how well you had been doing.

Reminded of that horror, but that morning as Jon awoke, did he no longer hesitate to lean over and press his lips to your neck. Drifting a hand to your side, and prompting your sleeping self to turn into him so he could kiss you properly. You wouldn't even respond, you were still asleep, but it took Jon a good while to pull from your lips and kiss your forehead. Both of you bare, Jon so desperately wanted to pry your legs open. Slide gently inside of you and lull you awake that way. Start your morning by filling you deep or perhaps he'd attach his mouth between you and drink every perfect taste you could gift to his tongue. You'd awake so shy about it he knew. He adored it as much as it drove him mad.

Jon knew he needed to ensure you stayed with him. Be with you gentle and tender, to not allow you to fall back into such horrors in memory. But as your brows narrowed at the sound of a knock at the door, Jon pulled you firmly into his torso and covered with the fur, what of your bare frame he had let slide down as you slowly woke up to the sounds around. Knowing he needed to get you both dressed, Jon sighed. He had one single night with you, and back into the never ending fray of mystery and death which haunted every facet of your lives now.

At this rate to Jon, it felt like he never would have a life with you where he'd get you all to himself even just for a little while. Even though he knew you both desperately needed it, he never could or would force it. No matter how much Jon wanted to force everyone from his life with you, even just for a few days.

Just enough to stop feeling so on edge, for both of you. But it felt impossible to Jon presently.

Every other abandoned castle along the Wall had their tunnels plugged with rocks and ice to flood, yet the gate rose up without any force, it opened as easy as the free one of Castle Black did. Only you all knew it was not the normal outer gate which would be found at the opposite side. The wind blew high and cold as the gate slowly begun to rise up. It was far more well preserved and functioning then you would have expected for how long it had been abandoned.

Commenting to Sam that it seemed strange, he had said, “That isn't the strangest thing about it.”

There up above on the ceiling seemed to be something like a passage way, if glancing through, you could see the structure of what looked like a well, as if what was down here sat in disguise from the remainder of the buildings. Empty now, but Sam had said it was in there which he and Gilly had come through and met Bran. Yet it was how he came to the gate in the first place which was the intrigue. How he got inside.

The tunnel unlike the one of Castle Black appeared to glow by the end. Where in one was only darkness other then torch fire hung from the walls, there was a glow of white by the end as if something had been painted there using the stars bright in the sky. Nor was it made of steel either. No, it was made of wood and it was as if the bark on it was not white paint at all, it was the base of the white branches routing through the fort.

One just like you had known in Winterfell, on the white bark, was a face.

Dark and almost black with a wide open mouth as all others, only this was taller then any and all of you. Not the gate alone, the face was carved to fit the whole thing. The glow seemed to touch hardly anything outside of the gate itself but it illuminated the vision of all four of you as you all slowly came to a stop.

All were quiet as you looked at it, unlike anything seen at the Wall before it appeared to be as old as the ice it was guarding in between. Something sat in the air here as the roots wound about the room as if at any moment they could come to life and wrap themselves around you in attack. Hardly even wind blew anymore, and no torches were even around to hang. Only the milky moonlight radiating from the face before.

But it was not a face alone you could see, no it was what led you all to such a clue in the first place. A faint carve in the wood all around the sides were runes just as you knew them. Some were ones Sam had transcribed, others were but a mystery you had yet to lay eyes on but scouring all along the frame you sought out one as Jon did the other.

Rasping out beside you, Jons attention drew all eyes up to the left corner. “There, that's the one we saw at the Fist of the First Men.” Spirals drawing outward from what looked to be one small circle in the middle, it certainly didn't look quite as uniform as what you could recognize of the rest.

Tormund muttering from the other side of Jon, none of you tearing your eyes from the gate. “Wouldn't be surprised if there's more here we haven't seen. Between Mance and me, saw more of them the more years went by.”

Sam stood beside you at the end, the only one who wasn't as in a strange awe being used to this sight from before, but no less curious of it. “How far back did you first see something like that?”

Thinking in a quiet, a distant rumble sat vibrating within Tormunds chest as if it blended well with the out of sorts cold which permeated so close to his once home. “Heard stories as a boy, but it wasn't until damn near thirty years ago did anyone actually see something. Came across a pair of spear wives, going on about how their men came back from a hunt and tried to kill them. Had to kill 'em twice, since they got back up the first time. Was no older then that sister of yours,” Tormund glancing over to Jon, whose eyes had barley peeled from the symbol to the face in the gate. “The lad who said he had to burn his hut down just to stop some stranger walking in from coming after him. Lived near the very edge of Thenn territory, so we went over to cut them to pieces for it, but we got there and they were already cut up into plenty of naked pieces all over the ground. That one there's what we saw.”

Pointing up to another by the lower right leading towards the ground, a symbol you hadn't recognized sat there just on the cusp of standing out as unusual. An opening sat near the middle bottom of what should be a circle, but designed that like of a maze. A thick loop closing off each end right at said middle, and inside it another smaller copy and a smaller copy inside the next until there was no more space for such.

Your own eyes found it near the edge of the corner by you, just as you could see it fresh in the snow it sat carved beyond on the wood of the gate. A circle interrupted what almost a hilt of a sword down the middle, and four dots around it's edges which you could feel a shiver in your bones thinking of. In that sight, such dots were heads bloodied and skewered onto spikes. Whoever you were looking through the eyes of in such a vision, you could still feel the creeping feeling of confusion when bringing his companions back to a sight of nothing.

How he had turned around, and up against a tree all on her own as if a warning sat a little girl with bright orange curls. Her eyes remained wide open but without fear as if she had died before grasping the terror of what was to come, and how those same eyes turned around to look at you in a bright glowing blue just as you heard screams.

Feeling Jons warmth lean more to you, his voice low as he asked you, “Is that the one you saw?” Not even blinking, you nodded slow only once as he leaned over your sight more to Sam. “And you're sure these match?”

Stepping closer, Sam looked between them and the face on the gate. There wasn't anything else like this in the other forts along the Wall from what you were told. It was here, just here. Sam however answered with another question, “Did you notice something? About these symbols?”

Quiet in thought for only a moment, Jons brows furrowed as the rest of him twisted in a fallen frown to pull the horn from where it sat safely on his person. All of you turning to him, he turned it all around slowly as his gloved fingertips traced against the marks. Looking at some, then others, then the horn once more before his grey eyes shined wide looking up in a wonder. “Not all of them are on here.”

Sam only adding, “Maybe they took out some of them when they made this.”

Only a whisper but in the eeiry silence the three men heard regardless. “Or they etched them into the horn first, and added more later.” Eyes flickering up to Jon, you weren't entirely sure but any suggestions were better then only one with such things now. “If the Wall came first, why would they leave out some things and not the other.”

More gears were turning in his mind then you could keep up with, not wanting to imagine just how much of every waking moment was spent trying to put this into any understanding for him. Nothing short of an oddity that Jon didn't look as exhausted as you did these past weeks, knowing he was getting less sleep then he was being honest about. “What if they're trying to speak to us?” Eyes narrowing as you asked what he means, but Jon was distant in his thoughts. “Three symbols on the horn and gate that they left behind for us to see. They're using what used to be our language out there, it might mean they think we can understand.”

The air was heavy until someone found the strength to speak up, “Wouldn't that mean they don't know we can't anymore?” Jon's head turned down to the side to meet your eyes, and the answer sat right in his gaze, both in it's uncertainty and somehow unwavering confidence.

Calling Sam's name, Jon found his command once more, gesturing to the symbols new to their understanding now. “I need you to figure out what these say. Can you do it by tonight?” Sam replied saying he would try, did you and Tormund find yourselves walking up to the carved face.

It was high in the air. Taller then any gate needed for any man, but most of them were. The question of why sat unspoken in your mouth. Rumbling as he leaned toward you, “Why call it the Black Gate if it's as white as a Weirwood?”

Almost on instinct, your gloved hand reached up as it to brush against the carved face as you would smaller ones but pulled back the last moment,. Fingers curling into your fist, as your lips sat slightly parted trying to strain your neck looking at it's enormity. Standing on your toes would you'd still never would even be able to reach up to Tormunds height, “Stories used to say when the cold winds came and white walkers rose up, a never ending darkness flooded the lands with them.”

“Winter north of the Wall's always dark.”

Looking at the Black Gate with carved and made with that of a white Weirwood, you could somehow see through it as if a form of night you never would have once comprehended lay behind it. “Not this kind of dark.” Tormund's brows narrowed in question at you but you had no answer or look back to him. You continued to look a the face with it's closed eyes and open mouth as if ready to speak. But nothing is ever that simple.

An approaching warmth came up to your left and a hand running up your spine with enough pressure you could feel Jon even through his gloves, and the layers and fur over you. Tormund asking to break the quiet first, “Now how do you open a gate with no way to raise it?”

Jons hand curled just the slightest into the white fur around your shoulders as if to subtly pull you just a bit closer to him, and the slightest bit more away from Tormund. “Sam said it opened on it's own after he recited the Night's Watch oath.” Both men looked at one another with you in the middle feeling lost amongst the white and a dizzying feeling the longer you stood so close to it.

“Horn that can bring the Wall down, runes that match a door with face on it that only opens to you crows and your oaths and no one knows why? What's the point of manning the Wall if no one understands what they're doing?” There wasn't a tone of condescension on Tormund's tone but you couldn't help but feel the answer was somehow staring you in the face. But it wasn't. Only the carved one in the gate.

Jon inhaled deeply, jaw set a little harder at the thought. Lord Commander turned King in the North and you knew it wasn't easy feeling as if he had so little information to lead from. “The Nights Watch has manned the wall for eight thousand years, we've barley been able to get eight hundred men between three castles in centuries.” Once more the hand curling around the fur on you tightened. “The less resources you give people to do their job, the less likely they'll be to ask why they should care about doing it.”

Or maybe you thought, they were hiding the secrets they wanted to protect from those they didn't trust. You couldn't say why you thought of it, but the black gate sent you into your memory of charred black bones and the creature roaring into the open air to cause them. Only one Targaryean ever tried riding their dragon beyond the Wall and it was said the creature refused to go anywhere near it no matter what it's rider wanted.

It was possible in your mind that it wasn't just dragons the Wall was to keep out of the far north, perhaps the men guarding it, was keeping it's secrets safe from the dragonriders themselves. Magic keeps the creature from burning it's frozen land, the men hide their secrets and reasons from the pillars of destruction and massacre who conquered the lands the Wall protected. Once you you couldn't stop the feeling, ice and fire were fighting before your eyes, and even with the slash in your palm and bruise now discoloured around your neck, you'd still choose ice.

The question caught both men off guard but your mind wandered too far to return to keep up with their pace and topic. “There are animals beyond the Wall we don't have here, correct?” Turning when neither responded up to Tormund, he looked at you almost amused for a moment.

Nodding, “Aye, we do. Pretty Crow thinking of getting a wild pet all of her own?”

The seriousness painted in your gaze up at the gate either did not take them off guard or they did so in a silence you could not see. “Have you ever seen a raven with red feathers?” That came to be an easy no, but the next question caused a silence that stumped you and Jon both. “What about a crow with three eyes?”

When Tormund said nothing, you and Jon both looked over at him and Tormund slowly met the action with a curiousness in his eyes burning more intensely. “And where did you see that?” Not just you, and not see it with your own eyes.

Jon spoke for you, the hand now tight enough were he not hidden by gloves one would see the strain in his knuckles. “What does it mean?” Tormund played games, pretending it didn't mean a thing but you looked at the gate still. “Tormund.”

Your hands twitched at their side to pull the gloves from your skin and run over it's bark.

“Doesn't mean anything. Only interesting crows I've ever seen out North were you and Mance. And you'd look a lot less good at her side if you had a third eye, Snow.” Keep your gloves on you told yourself, why was it begging you to do this now?

You needed to leave. You were too tempted looking up at this gate to grasp hold of it and ask the old gods to just give you the answers Jon needed, and you weren't going to do so in front of him here and now of all times. But Jon kept you at his side as long as he and Tormund stood there.

Not really noticing how easy it was to let Jon speak for you sometimes, while your head still sat in this utter mess. The dizzy feeling however, only had you grow both far colder in blood and warmer on skin then such a place asked for.

The three eyed crow in your dreams didn't feel a threat, but if that were true, why did the stranger call himself the Crow's Eye? How did this all fit together here and now? Who were any of these people now invading your visions and dreams as if they had any right too? None did but the wolf by your side.

“Is this what you looked like waiting for him to come home before?”

Your head turning to the side, seeing Theon walking up as you leaned against a stone railing looking higher up out to the south. Your hands folding and unfolding whatever paper it was which had been preoccupying yourself without your gaze blinking once against the unchanging sight of snow and fields set against the late morning sun. A graceful, “Huh?” Left you just as Theon leaned next to you in a similar position as yourself.

Gesturing out to the sight with his head he elaborated. “Waiting for your father to come home, can imagine you up on the cliff sides watching for his ship to appear.”

A low voice left you sitting with as much nostalgia as it did defeat. “And how did you come to that conclusion?”

Though you both were not terribly dissimilar to one another in that regard. “I remember watching my Uncles fleet sail off when it all started. Never watched them come home though, first ship I ever saw come into our waters was Robert Baratheon's.” You could hardly recall those days anymore, your time on Dragonstone during the Greyjoy rebellion was spent so heavily with Shireen you had little time to reflect on where your father was.

Your hands stalled on the paper but kept it folded tight as if maintaining the tensity in your fingertips as well. Terse was the manner which your voice came out, “I used to bring Shireen out with me, she was just old enough then I could walk her around the main grounds and I'd bring her to the stone path and watch with her until the sun set.” The huff which left you wasn't quite a laugh but enough so it might have passed as one. “I remember being so relieved the day I saw his ship in the harbour, now everytime I know he's coming my way I dread it more and more.”

“He's a tough old goat your father, I'll give him that. Not sure why none of that passed to you.” A glare flickered towards him from the side was met with a jesting smirk, your own rolled into the back of your head as you shook your head. Gaze back on the sight of nothing. “He doesn't think you're a traitor anymore, he likes Jon well enough, what else do you have to worry he's going to say? If anything, I'd have guessed he wouldn't care much that you remarried.”

Were Theon drinking anything, he may have dramatically spat it out as you so dryly commented, “I would wager you right on that. Considering he so very casually asked me in White Harbour if Jon and myself were bedding one another.” You could see his head spin to look at you incredulously but you only shrugged. “Not ones for tact, my family. If you haven't noticed. Will cut right to the very awkward chase.”

“What did you tell him?”

Once more your voice was far too monotone for what came with it's words. “Oh I relayed to him in explicit detail the manner in which Jon fucked me against the wall in the Castle Black right after he stopped being a corpse. What do you think I would have said to him, Greyjoy?”

A mighty laugh left him, a lift tugging at your heart. Little by little he looked a little more like the Theon you once knew, at least when it was just the two of you. Shaking his head he almost looked a bit shocked if not amused. “I knew something happened that night, but this? You really brought a man back to life and let him just have his way with you right after? Not quite the rigid girl with far too much self respect for your own good which I first met.”

Perhaps you'd laugh, if you didn't feel a wave of guilt slam right away. You changed your mind, you didn't want Theon to go back to the man he was before. He should be nowhere near what led to what Ramsay did to him ever again. Instead, you swivelled it back to you as if keeping your own mind away from the thought. “I'm nothing like that girl, anymore. Not sure she would recognize me were I to see her here and now.”

“Good. No one wants you to be.” That was how you knew it was true, the sheer fact of not having the inclination to argue or debate back with Theon of all people even if just for the sake of it. You still felt dizzy even after being out of that tunnel over an hour.

Olly had to bring you water himself because you at one point felt as if you were warm and cold and sweating and wavering on your feet. You hadn't left that spot since then, leading to the current quiet tones between you and Theon. You felt no better however. You felt just as dizzy and hazy in your mind then you did standing right up in front of it, even worse, your hands still twitched to run over it with your bare fingertips as you would the Weirwood in Winterfell.

A childish part of you wanted to return to your chambers and crawl under the sheet to block the world out until the haze dissipated but the last thing you wanted to do was hide away and act as if you couldn't handle the world. Everyone around you already was working and you had spend the past hour or so trying not to faint. Maybe you'd dream of ravens and crows if you did. Or maybe just one. Or worse.

Perhaps sleeping was a bad idea for many reasons currently.

The first to arrive was not what you expected, nor any. They came alone, and with an urgency that could only relate to one thing. Black fur adorning over their person, the only to come to the Nightfort for now was a man of the Nights Watch. Riding through the gate, some very specific came first to greet them as you stepped into the cold once more but without the same enthusiasm.

Much like as you could see Jon and Sam reunite and stood far away, you felt it was not your place to intrude on now many people's reunion as Edd came through the gate, climbing from his horse. A glance to your right, your eyes found Theon and with a luck he read your thought process with an ease. The read of your expression not much of a mystery when it was painted in a blatant insecurity.

The sight of them all happy to once more see each other was something warm in the cold trapped in your chest, nor was it the fact that you were fairly sure none have ever been as thrilled to see you as they all were one another. No you moreso grew to realize, you had no idea how to stand in the background when you had no place and not look uncomfortable or off putting.

You barley fit in with a crowd anymore, and so much like the last time Jon and Edd reunited in the courtyard of a castle at the Wall, you and Theon slunk off out of sight before it became obvious the degree to which you otherwise felt you'd be intruding. Theon beside you not unfamiliar with the growing isolation he continued to watch you fall back into.

“Almost couldn't recognize you. What are you, half the size you were bumbling into Castle Black the first time?” It was easy to tell Sam was attempting to not appear so bashful, but in all likelihood hardly any had commented on anything of his size in a long time. None in Winterfell did nor did Jon imagine that was anything Maesters of the Citadel would comment on but one could always rely on Edd being the man to say the first blunt truth which came crashing through his mind.

Trying to deflect, Sam almost backtracked into a stumbling of words. “Perhaps not half..”

Jon felt a smirk grow easy, the swiftness in which Edd tossed back at him as if no time passed since the day Sam left. “If I didn't know any better I'd ask if they were starving you.”

Tormund was another easy greeting between them. Edd once resistant to the plan Jon put forth when he and Tormund were to go to the remaining free folk at Hardhome, but once Edd had joined he found what many of them found when giving each other a chance. Once they set aside the killing each of them had done to the other group and many of them were just men fighting for their survival.

“Everytime I think I forgot what being around so many crows feels like, one of you comes along and reminds me.” Gesturing vaguely behind him to Jon, “They named this one King and he still can't figure out how to stop dressing like one of you.”

Jon didn't know why he thought of it. Why he could see the two of them that day in the courtyard as he readied his horse that morning.

“Next time I see you, you'll be all in black.”

“It was always my colour.”

The last hug with Robb he ever shared fresh in his bones and the way Robb nodded just before parting ways, over to where you stood in a more solemn silence with your own horse ignoring the two wolves goodbye. As if to tell Jon to not let you part ways with him without a proper goodbye, knowing you'd avoid it if they let you. Their last interaction ever, Jon thought. And it was about you.

The talking around him continued, and overpowered the ability he had to stand there and contemplate why he was even thinking about it. But really, he knew why, and it sat odd in his stomach enough he shoved it all down as soon as the thought cropped up in the first place. Not right now he thought.

Cutting through the noise, Jon asked him plainly, “What are you doing here, Edd?”

Unlike his normal however, Edd answered Jons question with one of his own. “You have the lift up and running yet?” It wasn't yet high on his priority, trying to get the Nightfort even functional was what the day had been about so far, but Jon could see something in Edd's eyes.

Something distant and unnerved, and strangely, not dissimilar to the look you had sometimes when Jon knew you were hiding a vision or dream you had he was not privy too. A much smaller, darker part of himself scolded for even allowing a possessiveness to grow. As if somehow you having something in common with Edd which Jon didn't know about made a sharp edge of territorial urges beg to come forth when it was not needed.

Jon trusted Edd as much as he did Tormund, but at the least Jon could also trust Edd's thoughts towards you were nothing of that sort. But he told himself to get a grip, and focus on the issue which mattered here and now. “If we start now, I can have it running by nightfall.”

Edd didn't have a shred of amusement in that one, and seemed to wait to explain the urgency of why he was here until then. “Good. 'Cus I already received word from Eastwatch and the Shadow Tower and they're reporting the same thing we're seeing at Castle Black. Knew if you just got here, you'd have no way of knowing about it yet, but you'll need too.”

A seriousness tensed in Jon's eyes as his voice matched in a gruffness. “Know what?”

Yet he only confirmed Jons suspicion, “It'll be easier to explain after I show you.”

That for now, would have to do. The lot of them had much to catch Edd up on in the meantime anyways, the men all finding somewhere warm to lay out what he and Sam had put together but Jon couldn't stop that same burning possessive feeling. He knew Ghost was around here to keep an eye on you, his hands clenching tight, imploring himself not to invade his direwolf's mind instantly just to figure out where you were, and why you hadn't appeared to greet Edd yourself.

Considering as they moved further into the grounds the man himself asked without a shred of hesitation as your name came up, “You hiding her away, or what?” Jon's brows narrowed as he looked at him in question, but Edd was as casual about it as he was everything. “Wouldn't surprise me, the way you watched her at Castle Black I'm surprised you two aren't even on your first kid, yet. Thought by now you'd have her up to six how much you'd leer at her.”

Almost like jesting boys, Jon argued back in an instant, “I don't leer at her.”

Edd huffed a disbelieving laugh, “Yes you do. Think they invented the word just to describe the way you never could stop staring at her like you were obsessed with her.”

Sam didn't help one bit, the amusement on his voice piping up from Jons other side. “He's still like that, don't let him tell you he doesn't. I made the mistake of interrupting them once and I think Jon was about ready to tear my limbs off for it.”

Jon grumbled to himself, knowing Sam was right and the annoyance at how no matter the months gone between them, his brothers still knew him well enough they could take the piss out of him without thought. They and Robb all had that in common it seemed

It made Arya mad to think about.

For a while, it was a bit easier to forget some of it. Years on the run it felt, most nights never having anything close to a roof over her head, and her family separated or many of them gone. She could think of her family and think that she should find Sansa, as she should the rest of them. And yet, Arya sat there in the hall that day looking over the ravens from Ser Yohn Royce to Jon, which he had given her permission to look over, and it made her mad as more and more memories came rushing back to her mind.

Sansa had every right to be upset she knew, after all, while Arya had chased Nymeria off to spare her, her sisters direwolf wasn't here for far worse reasons. Cersei had taken her ire out on the Starks for an incident Joffery instigated, and when the guard told her there was no trace of Arya's direwolf, just as they thought it was going to be over, the Queen had turned to the crowd and said, “We have another wolf.”

But, she wasn't the only one who lost someone that day. Sansa lost Lady, but it wasn't until the next day did Arya learn Mycah was dead. He got scared and ran away when Joffery had started swinging his sword at Arya and now he was dead. The entire time Sansa had stood there defending Joffery, telling Arya to stay out of things and got angry only at them “spoiling everything” while Arya was the one being properly attacked.

Yes, Sansa had every right to be upset about Lady but Arya was still blamed for it all when her own friend was dead. A friend no one cared about. They had been at the table in their quarters long after settling into Kings Landing, and she could recall feeling grateful when you had walked in.

Since arriving in Kings Landing, she hardly saw her father until evening and then he'd many times be shut away in his chambers scribbling away. When you weren't at her fathers side, you'd normally be out of the castle entirely usually finding your way to the docks by the water. Saying you preferred to ensure things were running smoothly yourself rather then have the men make mistakes and lie about it. But on occasion you would manage to make it to a meal before leaving again.

Not that Arya was in the best of moods, but at the very least when you came in it meant Septa Mordane was given a break from the girls, and Jeyne Poole, normally found at Sansa's side scurried away, being scared of your scowl and short demeanour. You were also the only one Arya's tone could be short with and you'd never take offence to it personally.

Instead of eating, she had been holding the knife sat out with her plate and stabbing it into the wood, her mind still upset and needed something to occupy it. You had looked between the tense silence of the sisters and chose the easier subject to tackle. “What exactly are you doing, may I ask?”

“I'm practising.” She had replied, and when it was Sansa who asked for what, she hadn't hesitated to look over to her and shortly reply, “The prince.” You had called her name in a quieter warning but the lid was off and Arya's temper flared up. “He's a liar and a coward. And he killed my friend.”

Defending him as always, Sansa piped up “The Hound killed your friend.”

They both knew while it was true, that was as fair as Sansa being mad at father for Lady. So Arya, without even stopping the childish stabbing at the table almost lectured her older sister. “The Hound does whatever the prince tells him to do.”

Back and forth they went, as you rather then sitting down right away, moved more to their side of the room in a watchful quiet. Sansa gave no real rebuttal but looked at Arya still and spat, “You're an idiot.”

Naturally, Arya told the truth which was not the accusation she told her sister. “You're a liar. And if you told the truth, Mycah would be alive.” She had stabbed the knife a final time into the wood in as her heart shrunk in on itself at the thought once more but Sansa refused to let her have the last word.

Raising her voice shrill as it was the day she yelled at them by the river but still quiet in a smugness. “Go ahead, call me a liar all you want. You won't be able to when I'm married to Joffery. You'll have to bow to me and call me your grace.”

Arya looking back on it knew it was childish, but she was younger and rash and angry and did it before she knew you'd stop her. Reaching over the table, Arya practically flung halfway across to where her sister sat. Snatching a half orange from the table, she threw it at Sansa's dress. It landed with a plop against the white lace trim against her torso, and fell to the floor as she shrieked while Arya's tone was much more mocking. “You have juice on your dress, your grace.”

In an instant, as if wrangling rowdy horses, you almost didn't even bat an eye as you grabbed Arya before she could sit back down. Pulling her from her seat with a more proper scold, “Enough of that.” Only to have Sansa interrupt. Your hand curled into Arya's shoulder as you kept her mostly behind you at that point.

Yelling at Arya, Sansa shouted what Arya had yet to forget. “You are an animal,” Echoing what the Queen had passively said about Arya and Nymeria that day at the Inn, only Sansa didn't stop there as she tried to hide her tears. “They should've killed you instead of Lady-”

In an instant you yelled Sansa's name louder then you had at Arya. It was the first time both girls in their lives actually had heard you raise your voice at either of them. It had startled Sansa into a quiet as she looked rather wide eyed and guilty at your twisting expression of disapproval. Arya felt herself shrink inward even moreso in the quiet minute which passed just as her father walked in.

“What's happening here?”

But, you did what you always were good at. You understood both girls. You knew why Sansa was overreacting and you knew why Arya was throwing a tantrum and covered with a swift ease for both of them. Your grip on her shoulder easing up, “The girls were riling the other up a little too much is all.”

Arya said nothing, and Sansa looked down to her plate as if nothing happened. Both were smart enough to recognize that you had covered for their immaturity, but Arya knew her father could sense the tension that you'd likely relay a little more diplomatically at a later point alone. Gesturing to her, her father told her, “Go to your room, we'll speak later.”

As Arya's eyes now though read over the raven scrolls, she could look even further back. She and Sansa still were rather young, and Bran while only a year younger then Arya was small enough that he didn't quite grasp things around him just yet. She had overheard after an argument with Sansa, her going to their mother.

Asking if it was a mistake, that grumpkins must have come and stolen her trueborn sister away. Their mother with an amusement on her light voice asking what would that make her now, and Arya in the present day had felt her body stiffen just as angrily now as it did when she and the too young Bran overheard what Sansa had said next. “A bastard, like Jon, she even looks like him she can't possibly be my true sister.”

It had bothered even only a girl of four in that memory as it bothered the now teenager of fifteen. Robb and Jon both were wonderful to Arya where Sansa was mean, but Jon had always been her favourite sibling. From as early as she could remember, he was there for her. Would walk into the hall for meals, passing her by and ruffling her hair to annoy her while fondly calling her “Baby sister.”

Jon was the one only second to their father who ever actually told Arya she was pretty, when that was something everyone only ever called Sansa. He'd indulge when she broke the rules or played a prank and even when Jon got to be too old to act a boy anymore, he never scolded Arya when she'd continue to be childish on her own.

Maybe she was too young to remember, but Arya had never known a point in her life where Sansa ever respected Jon or her. It made her more angry now, which made her hope what they suspected wasn't true. She didn't want Sansa to be involved in whatever ploy this was, because it meant their sister still refused to see Jon as a legitimate brother.

And if telling her trueborn sister she wished she died instead of Lady was how she acted then, she dared not think what way Sansa would treat her bastard brother now. Arya wanted her sister to come home, but not this way. She wanted Sansa to come home so what few of them were left could be a family where they all belonged.

Arya could forgive her sister after all these years if Sansa had grown the way all of them had for the better, but still she thought to herself. Even if Sansa had changed, she hoped Jon would never tell her the truth. He was always just her bastard half brother in the best of times, she dared not think what her older sister would do now finding out whose son by blood he really was.

The Sansa she knew then, would tell the first person she sees just to make a claim for his title herself.

You had simply intended on redoing the wrappings around your palm but here still you were looking at it intently. The sliced cut looked nothing unusual anymore but there was no taking back the memory of how unnaturally red it was when Theon had yanked your wrist up to see it. Or the pain that erupted from that every cut the single moment before flames engulfed the wight before you. There was no fooling anymore over it.

There was no source of fire in the room, and it came right from you onto the creature. There was nothing else to speculate and yet you hated every second of it. You found yourself thankful neither Beric nor Thoros came to you about it further, but it wasn't their words alone waiting to strike, and as it turns out Selyse continued to very good at cornering you into uncomfortable discussions.

She had not so gently dismissed Olly from the room but nothing else had been said quite yet the moment the door closed. Her eyes not on you, but trailing to the fire burning near the back of the room had your own peeling back from showcasing a glare as you finished off tying the cloth around you off.

Your mothers voice was low as it was entirely genuine. “I have never asked you to believe as I do,” Inhaling deeply, you continued to not look her way. “But the Lords power continues to follow you wherever you go.”

Only a mutter hissed from under your breath, “Tell your Lord to leave me be, then. I don't pray to him.”

Tilting her head as if to implore you to listen, knowing you were too stubborn to even return her gaze from here. Making her slow way around to the other side of the table your arm was draped over, you were carefully pulling your gloves back on with a slight wince at the tightness when pulling across your palm.

Reaching on her own, she grasped at the leather for you, almost pushing your free hand away as moved the material over the wrappings much easier and with less force then you'd push with. “I didn't pray to him for most of my life, but that doesn't mean he isn't watching.”

Your eyes flickered up as you pulled your arm back and down onto your lap. The uncomfortable twitching wish you had kept the fur cloak on this side of the room, so at least you'd have something to hide your need to fidget in their warm depths. Selyse matched your gaze, but they were not demanding nor even judging as you always felt with such discussions.

Your mother and her faith has always been a tricky spot for you. After Shireen fell ill, you had lost much of your own faith in the Seven. Hardly going into the Sept and you had not returned to the idols on the beach until the night Jons forces had beaten Aegons. You prayed and prayed for your brothers and prayed in the Winterfell sept for your mother to not lose the child in her womb that time around and then when they answered, they almost took Shireen away just as fast.

Your mother always fell deeper into it. The most devout of House Florent it seemed. Your Uncle Alester believing much like her and even followed his youngest sibling into following the Lord of Light once the red woman came to their shores. The rest of their side of the family you did not know. Ser Axell still worshipped the Seven, which was the sin he committed to be burned in the first place, but whatever distant relatives you had outside of your mother and two uncles you hardly knew them.

Your Uncle Alester had a daughter in the Reach but you knew nothing of her. By the time you were born he lived on Dragonstone and scarcely mentioned what family his daughter went on to likely have. Then you knew, once Renly was dead, your father sent him and many guard you knew to rule Storm's End in his name, now that by rightful law, Storm's End passed to Stannis's lineage. A mess in and of itself that turned into. Difficult to have a lineage to follow when your firstborn child kills your second and only other child, and that daughter is married twice to Kings in the North.

Your mind a bit of a mess of thoughts scattered about, your mother took up the mantle to fill the silence between you both once more. “I have done and said things I regret, many things, including what I believed was for the greater good. I would tell myself, no act done in service of the Lord of Light could ever be a sin, that I thanked him everyday for being the Lady Melisandre to us. I served him as loyally as I believed in him, but he does not require such devotion from us all.” Your jaw clenched, tongue being bitten down against roughly at the womans very name passing your ears.

Not wanting to drift into thinking of where she could possibly be now, you muttered in a dry tone not truly looking at anything in particular. “I presume the point you are trying to get at, is that the three of you discussed me behind my back.”

Selyse no doubt was once more looking to you in a scolding but you had not the strength to endure it at the moment. Her voice a pinch more tender then which you expected. “They do not think our paths have all crossed by coincidence, and neither do I. The only thing I am asking is for you to keep your mind open to the possibility the only one answering your prayers-”

Stern and short, you cut her off with a flashing of warning in your eyes. Sharp as an edge, while your palm burned as did the scar on your stomach. “Did you try converting Shireen on these matters?”

Almost guilty did your mother appear for brief passing seconds, though it was hidden under her natural guise of quiet and poise rather well. “We tried on more then one occasion, but it appeared Shireen never quite took to it.”

One could only wonder the attitude she would give towards such a subject, if you knew your baby sister as well as you thought. “When the Seven Pointed Star is the first you read, it's difficult to find faith in anything else.” Though, not impossible. Very clearly as your branch of this House would indicate. Three followers of the Seven down to none in some years.

“It is, but faith in him or not, Thoros of Myr believes the Lord has allowed his power to run through you freely. I have not seen even in the Lady Melisandre, such ease at his power without even asking for something of him first. Almost as if it comes to you naturally where all others had to gain their connection to such ways.”

You were hesitant, the burning in your stomach contrasting to the feeling of the cold metal against your torso of Shireens hidden away necklace. The whisper was unsure, and you nor him had spoken much of it. You both tended to prefer to accept and look beyond that night considering the rest would require talking of what led to it. “Jon has never been unsure how he returned. From the moment he came back, he insisted he's known it was me who did it. But I never did anything. I didn't perform anything, didn't ask anything, bringing Jon back was never even possible in my head. All I know is that one moment he was dead and the next he was..”

The fading meant one thing but seemed innocuous to your mother thankfully. You needn't not elaborate on just what occurred in the very first actions taken place one you and Jon reunited. Maege would never let it go were you to tell her.

“Strange things follow you, and I only want you to consider it unwise to write off certain manners it might be coming from.” It wasn't judgment she spoke with but you felt it all the same. After what the red woman has done you wanted nothing to do with something she committed such atrocities in name of.

Breathing heavy you forced the words out as even and collected as possible. “What's happening to me..this is more then whatever your beliefs tell you. It's..this is something else entirely. The Lord of Light is anywhere and everywhere. It doesn't matter where you go, it seems to follow you. But something is..it's keeping me here. Keeping me in the North as if I must be here.” Looking into the distance of nothing, your voice turned down to but a whisper. “Something bigger is trying to tell me something. So you may be right, I may be here for a purpose, but it isn't for your god.”

Selyse was silent was she watched, a connection you knew she had no understanding of and yet you knew too well it was impossible to explain to anyone at all. Why you said it, you couldn't be sure but it came running from your lips regardless. “I had dreams and visions before I died.” Her eyes flying up to your unsure ones, “I never understood what they were, or even thought they were real until..”

Swallowing heavy you pushed passed that memory. It led neither you nor Jon down a path you wished for him to revisit. Your mother leaned forward, something akin to wonder in her voice. “Were they like-”

“No.” It was more distressed then you meant, but why hide the feeling inside. “This is worse. Far worse, I can't even begin to describe what these are like now. If I had any when I came back I barley noticed until that night on the ship. It started then and it keeps getting worse.” There was a twisting in your gut that seemed to match the burning of your scar and it left you without breath. “Something is tethering me to the North, mother. But I don't understand why.”

Or did you not? It certainly seemed as if it was trying to come to you.

The quiet between you lasting not long, your hand returning in a fidget on the table almost tapping against it. Your gaze cast to the side with it barley coming out of you. “Does he know?” Your mother answering no swiftly, you felt your jaw twitch almost giving away your disbeleif. “Are you going to tell him?”

Leaning forward, Selyse tried gaining your attention with a burrow in your brow, a lecturing tone to boot. “If you are asking if I keep secrets-”

Without second thought did you cut through, still not looking at her but even shorter then previous you spoke. “I am asking if he's safe at Winterfell.” Meeting her eyes, a softness you felt not the energy to read into came forth as she nodded a yes.

Your jaw clenching again as you looked away once more, but she did not take it with that as the end of such a discussion. “I won't sit and defend it to you, but he did what he thought was necessary. At the time.” The further you said nothing the more your mother read the doubt. “Your father has changed since, he has grown passed what led him on that path. If you talk to him-”

Snapping over to her, she could read the anger brewing just beneath the surface with ease, as little as you attempted to hide it. “Gendry is my blood. I have to protect him. I didn't once, I didn't the second time but I can and I will now.” Looking back and forth as a weight built in your throat, you settled on looking in a different spot all together to avoid the feeling rise further. “He wasn't the only one I met. I met a girl, no more then fifteen or sixteen. She worked in one of Lord Baelish's brothels, and she had a baby. Not even one yet. Barra. Looked just like Shireen did her age.”

Only a whisper remained, and your mother too knew what it was you thought of. “No one could have known what Joffery was going to do-”

The crack in your voice was not quite at an upset, but it was not what you could see as collected either. “Of course I could have known. I knew what he was, what he was capable of doing. I don't even know how many of them there were.” Hand tensing into a fist, you were grateful the glove was back on as to not tear into the skin. “They were all my blood. My family, exactly as Gendry is and the only other one I knew was a baby girl. All they'll be remembered as were a bunch of slaughtered bastards, and I don't even know any of their names. They should be in Storms End. Resting with the father they never knew they had, with a family that should have been there to care about them.” Finally through something shaking in your lungs did a conclusion find itself in the air. “I won't let that happen again. Gendry and I are the only ones left. And as long as I have to keep him safe from what my own father tried to do to him, I will. No matter what.”

He had arrived come nightfall. Your own watchful figure distant even moreso then before up on a landing with the knowing you should go greet him. But you didn't have the words yet for that, not in front of other people. Whatever he may bring up you knew, was not going to be in the place he stood in the courtyard. Too many people around on both sides and you were well aware of your fathers tendencies.

Between you both, your father liked Jon more easily. An interrogation about certain matters were not going to be found between them, but you. You were his daughter and thus his misgivings would be demanded answers from you alone. Though as you watched from afar, Jon and Stannis greet one another with an ease you never knew from the later, it seemed the company at your side was considering their own interpretations of events.

Olly stood beside you, your gloved hands braced against the wood tense as he glanced between you and the scene below. Happy you were, that he was sat least direct about it. “Are bastards not supposed to marry highborns, your grace?”

The smirk coming to you was easy, as was the lightness in your tone with a brow raising at what you too once thought. “In most families, it is not advised. Certainly not within royal ones.” Asking if that was true, why between the two present Kings, did there not appear to be any issue. “I think my father enjoys having a son more then he despises my choices in life for once.”

Glancing to one another, your head tilted with a small bit of passive jest in between the tenseness within your muscles as Olly muttered something more unintelligible no doubt at your fathers expense, not with the confidence to say it. Following up with one much more acceptable to put forward, “It still is a King you married.”

Tilting your head the slightest bit, you nearly relented. “Yes. But my father liking Jon, and my father liking Jon being married to me are not the same.” In a moment which still took the boy by surprise, he asked if all highborns were this complicated about things or just your family, and you laughed rather freely. Light, but still freely. “Most of us are to a degree, but I think it is a fair assessment to say the Baratheons are indeed a special kind of insufferable.”

Olly was clearly attempting not to say anything, so you said it for him. “You work for me you know, you're allowed to agree. I'm aware more then anyone how difficult I make everything.”

“Your grace-”

Quick on the draw though, you cut through his formality. “Oh, so you've never though to yourself, why can't she just do things the easy way for once?” Turning with a raised eyebrow to his own gaze, the childish smirk on his face only caused you to match more knowingly. An arm pulling him more into your side with a playful jostle as he dropped a bit more stature into amusement. “Do me a favour, go check on how progress is going on the lift and let Jon know.”

Watching him take off, you too could still feel eyes on you. But not Ollys. Eyes turning from one direction to another, you found one which did not feel it. The figure of Ghost approaching now that you stood alone before nudging into your front. A small smile forming as you let your hand come up to run along his fur. “I don't suppose you have any advice on the matter do you?”

A small huff nearly running his head into your side affectionately, you grinned. Hands now running along his ears firmly. But looking to the distance, still both sides of two Kings discussing things with one another did you stumble upon the eyes watching you. Just as held back as he had been hours before in the morning, the manner in which Tormund watched you was new.

He had nothing to say about the mention of a three eyed crow, but he knew of the Sight and he knew of many more things beyond the Wall which did not garner such a reaction. But like many times before in this day, did you turn away. Prompting Ghost to follow inside closely, until nightfall, there was little use for you to interrupt the others work.

Though, sometimes you still were not sure if it was just work you were avoiding interrupting, or the bonds of men you felt small in comparison to, or the very people involved all together. Jon had once said it could feel as if everytime he got somewhere with you, you would proceed to take ten steps back from him. And it felt true even now, but there was too much in your mind that you didn't know how to settle, or from where it stirred back up.

But maybe you thought, being back at the Wall was more then just a move towards what you were all fighting towards. It might also be the place throwing you back to memories of the last time you were in a place like this, and the memories that caused you to avoid disrupting Jons life in the first place.

The problem was though, you were not the only one who noticed. You were certainly not the only one who noticed. Theon could tell since being here, something was more wrong then the strange events which had just played out, and he could see Jon felt something was wrong too.

You avoiding your father, and much chaos around to settle the new company having arrived, Theon found something grow within him.

That just maybe, he had made a mistake. Because it was not simple want of avoidance in your eyes, it was something he recognized. You were not there yet, but he knew you would be soon. You'd avoid and avoid until that darkness came back and this time Theon decided to man up about it. No one had told him, not you, not Maester Wolkan, and not Theon himself. But Jon had asked him months previous what Ramsay had done to you, so he would know what to do to start helping you, and Theon wasn't honest.

But too much had passed between then and now, and betraying your trust meant making up for the lies of omission Theon was too scared to commit last time. By nightfall, the lift would be operational, and just perhaps he thought, now was the time to say it.

He knew you might hate him for it, but Theon lied for you last time and this time, he would be truthful before everyone had to watch your mind spiral all over again the way you were pretending it wasn't. He felt guilty telling him without your permission, but Theon knew Jon needed to know these things.

Already it already didn't sit well with the man knowing he was being kept in the dark intentionally. You didn't tell him because you were clearly afraid it was your fault, it reflected on you that it meant you didn't deserve what love Jon would never stop giving you. You were always hard on yourself, but none moreso then blaming you for what Ramsay forced you to do.

Maybe he should have given you a warning he was going to tell him, but you would've begged Theon to not do it, and he would've given in. So he didn't. Theon loved you like his own sister, and over a decade of being raised with him and now him being married to you, Jon was as good as his own brother he had remaining. And the Starks as a family were at their best when being entirely honest with one another.

So Theon took advantage of that evening. You were preoccupied with avoiding the arrival of your father at the Nightfort, and with others drawing your focus at every other time also occupying your workspace, it gave Theon the chance to approach Jon alone.

“I need to speak to you about something, in private.” This time, it was Theon who looked stern and serious instead of that day in Castle Black when it was Jon. But the nerves he had felt in the moment in Castle Black, were nothing compared to the shatteringly broken look in Jons eyes as he realized the extent of why you had refused to tell him the truth.

Theon was as honest as he was blunt. “I never told you because she didn't want me to, but now I know she doesn't want to because she thinks you'll see her differently. Like it changes anything about who she is now..”

Grey eyes wide as they were screaming in an unspoken horror, Jon opened and closed his mouth a few times before pacing along the length of the room. A hand running over his mouth instead as he turned to look back. Still just as wide eyed as before. He hardly looked like a King in that moment, more like a boy. Finally finding a voice in a distant rasp, “How often did he make her-”

“Just once. For that at least. That was only once. I can't say how often he made her endure the rest of it, but I'd wager a lot.” Jaw set and his hands tensed as he crossed his arms over his chest, Theon looked the angry he expected Jon too. “He loved making her do those things, and then leave her to get dressed so Lady Walda could walk her to supper. So she'd have to sit next to Ramsay and eat as if they were a family and nothing was wrong.”

Still quiet, Jon had hardly blinked as he only could look at Theon with something more devastated then he was capable of handling. So he turned to the side, paced along towards the window and found distraction looking out it. He thought it would be a red, steaming rage Jon would react with, not the heartbreaking red in his eyes like a boy wanting to cry.

Gods, Jon was truly so very in love with you, Theon thought. It wasn't fair, after everything both of you had been through, not even in marriage did you and Jon catch a break. He hoped your years together back when they were all younger were happy. Despite being secret and forbidden he hoped those years were easy and happy. Because your new life together kept refusing to let you both breathe.

The strain in Jons voice made Theon selfishly thankful he wasn't looking at him anymore. “You said Ramsay's men would..who?” Jon had sent what remained of the Boltons bannermen split between Castle Black, Eastwatch by the Sea, and the Shadow Tower, in a bit of an ironic punishment. Now Theon was fairly certain if he gave names, Jon was going to give those names to Edd and once he got back to Castle Black, there'd likely be more then a few hangings that night.

“They- they didn't..” How on earth was Theon supposed to explain that? He was fairly certain it would not be comforting in the least to tell Jon that Ramsay only allowed his men to make use of one specific part of you. It likely would not at all be any better to hear or to say.

And it wasn't.

“Why didn't you tell me about any of this when I asked you what he did to her?”

Jon was trying not to yell now, not wanting the attention drawn to the conversation but Theon felt the meaning behind it all the same. “Because you would've beaten Ramsay to death the day you reclaimed Winterfell, or even worse you'd have done it the second you met him to discuss terms. Which wouldn't have helped her, wouldn't have taken any of it back. She didn't need you to avenge all that, she just needed you to be there for her. Telling you all that would've set you off, and she didn't need any more of that.”

Asking if anyone else knows about it, the worst which 'it' spoke of, Theon could at least placate that only he, you, and Maester Wolkan were the ones alive left for that detail to know outside now of Jon. He mentioned Barbrey Dustin had heard rumours of it, but Theon knew such rumours had come from Myranda, with one dead and the other in a cell, that specific story wasn't leaving to the wider world.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Jon clearly was trying to keep calm again. “For now this stays between us. I don't want you telling her I know. It'll upset her and she doesn't realize that's not good for her right now.” Theon paused, asking why.

It was Jons turn to hesitate, but he wasn't ready to say it yet. He was supposed to have told you before even leaving Winterfell, but now? Now he was even more worried about how you'd react then ever before if he let you find out alone.

“Is there a reason you've been hiding today?” As soon as Jons low voice rasped in your ear the tension in your shoulders deflated in an instant. Relaxing back into his warm touch as one hand held at your waist and the other slid across your stomach to pull you back into him. Gloved hands wrapping what you could around his forearm, were you facing the other way he'd be large and warm enough to shield you from the cold entirely as you stood out in the night.

You barley gave Jon a shrug, quiet only for him to hear. “I'd rather not have intruded. You were all close in a way I'm not, none of that is my place.”

Were you to wager gold, you'd have guessed Jons brows furrowed as he leaned over you more to try and see your face. His voice low near your ear in a hinted plead not to go down such a path. “You're my wife, darling. You're place is with me, no matter who else is there.” Giving but a slight nod, Jon chuckled as the sensation even through his layers and yours, rumbled against your back. “Besides, if you were there, would have spared me being made fun of.”

Your face twisted, eyes brightened only tinge asking “What were they making fun of?”

The arm around your front ran along your stomach over your scar, a grin blatantly following the words Jon mumbled in your ear once more. “Edd seems to think we're slacking in how many children we don't have.”

Grinning with ease, you felt him laugh along with you, the sound making your heart grow strong in an adoration of such rarities. Leaning back a bit, you felt him rest the side of his head against yours, “Shall I remind them we haven't even been married two months yet? These things take time.” Running along your scar back and forth, the gesture soothed what once would be a feeling on edge in your heart.

Each day, it got a little bit easier you supposed.

Despite the cold around you, Jons breath danced hot across your ear. “Do you want to know what's been on my mind?” Nodding, you thought nothing of any hidden intentions, soothing yourself back into his comfortable warmth. “If I had gotten you pregnant that night in Castle Black, you'd be about ready to give birth right now.” The hand on your scar more flat as if he yearned to run it along the skin covered by too many layers.

Rolling your eyes, the jest in your heart came off so naturally it almost sounded as if you were making fun of him right along his brothers. “If you had gotten me pregnant that night, you wouldn't have allowed me to do over half the things I've done since then. Not sure how much I'd have stepped foot near a battle if you had something to say about it in that time.” A pause as your eyes narrowed putting the timeline together on your own memory, “If I hadn't known I was with child by the time we were ready to go up against Ramsay, you'd have yelled at me afterwards for fighting in it even more then you already wanted to.”

Almost on the tip of his tongue was a denial, but Jon relaxed his person and thought better of it. You both knew that one would have been true. Something else was on his mind you could sense, but only giving a patience for him to get there when he was ready. “I know we've never talked about it properly.” The quiet giving a question in the air which he elaborated on as he pulled you even closer into his chest. “Having a child. We've joked about it, I've rambled about it when we've been together, but we've never actually talked about it.” The hand on your scar giving more pressure wishing to feel your bare scar as if he needed too.

Your heart was a bit heavy, but once more, easier day by day to think about it. But it was the swiftness of how you dived so close to the core of Jons gentle words in your ear which caught him off guard. “I know why you don't bring it up, Jon. Truly I do, for a while I didn't want to talk about it either.” Inhaling deeply, you cut to the chase of what you were just starting to think was Jons intention here. “I know you want children, and I know you won't ask me for them.” Your gloved hand covering his on your scar and Jon changed tactics to press your own against your stomach and he covered one of yours with both of his, your other hand grasping what you could of his wrist.

Sighing deeply, Jon's presence stood heavy behind you as he tightened his hold on your hand moment by moment. The breath shaking with nerves in your ear, had your head tilt somewhat. A narrow passing your eyes in an innocent wonder of what he suddenly of all people seemed uncertain of saying, but not the right chance to speak it as a very different voice cropped up from the side of where you and Jon both stood.

“And I thought hearing Sam go on about Gilly was sickening.” Turning swiftly to the side, the approaching Edd was followed by the Sam in question, Tormund, Theon, and Ser Davos by the side of your curiously silent father. All three former behind him amused despite Jon growing more rigid behind you, and even worse so as you pulled away respectfully in front of them.

Your tone however, the brightness in your eyes matched theirs whereas unbeknownst to you, Jons jaw clenched in a troubled scowl more serious then Edd's jesting should normally have elicited. “No need to act petty for what you don't have. What was it one of your brothers told me, Edd? That you had hoped women all over the Seven Kingdoms enjoy a uniformed man?”

A flat look fell across his face as he nodded to behind you to walk with him, expression in a matching lack of seriousness. “That's what I get for ever telling Hobb that story. He gets one beautiful woman complimenting his food and he tells you all my embarrassing secrets.”

Turning to follow down the path beside him, Jon almost didn't follow until Ser Davos and Stannis both stuck back with a questioning gaze at how tense he was compared to you. Shaking his head, Jon nodded for the two men respectfully, to go ahead first. Somewhat wrapping his dark fur cloak around his front more as if trying to hide how unsure yet unsettled he now felt.

He had gotten so close.

Coming now to where the lift up the height of the wall was stationed, you despite your misgivings, seemed to have found an ease in which Edd did not bother showing you any decorum or grandiose greeting. A banter from you came naturally at the accuracy of his statement. “Truly, it's almost tragic considering the uniforms of the Nights Watch do look rather catching. It just isn't women you're seeing day in and out to impress.”

A smirk almost came over you as he did not quite commit to his own glare, but it was not aided in his favour from Tormund speaking up. “You joined an army of men and thought women come running towards you? Sure some of you southern men look pretty enough, but not that pretty.”

Sam found his own amusement come easy towards Edd as well. “Who would've thought I would be the one to attract a girl before you did.”

Dry as ever, Edd shook his head. “Did I come here to put up with this or help you? Because it's starting to feel like the former.”

“There's no shame in admitting your allure isn't what it once was, Edd. You men can't all be Samwell Tarly's, some of you have to settle to be the Giantsbanes of the world.” Sharing a raised brow looking back to the large man in question and were so many people not here you knew that smirk meant he'd have the right words to knock down that high positioned jesting attitude in seconds.

Despite avoiding them just that early afternoon, it was notable how easily you found common ground amongst them. Never in your entire life in Kings Landing did you find any sort of companions with as natural ease in words as you continued to do so in the North. As if it was the place you were meant to be, something poked at your mind added.

In the ease of banter, none but two of them continued to notice how quick Jon had gone from soft and approachable to on edge and utterly quiet and closed off watching the figures ahead of them trait jests and mockings. They too, were also the ones lucky enough to know when not to provoke the bear, or wolf. Were it not already dark out, Jons eyes would have looked an angry black hiding the greys behind it now.

The land looked far more dark even in view of only the South from the rising lift. Your hands braced against the bars at the back near the wall, the wind picked up around the group of you and a shiver fell through your spine. Eyes drifting to the other side, yours found Jons wide and already trained on you.

A silent bright plead in them as if needing something you couldn't provide in the right here and now, and the yearning to go to him slammed you right in the chest. Not in front of all these people though, not in such a situation or in close quarters, but something about the softness of how he watched only you tugged at something.

Your brows raised ever so slightly as if trying to ask him what was wrong, but yet only a small smile was gifted back. Bright and gentle as he ever was but you felt yourself biting down against your tongue to keep the racing of your heart to something slower. Even in the cold and crowd here, Jon managed to take your worry and transform it right into something coming up into needing.

But the lift reached the top of the Wall, and filing out, you waited for the others to go first. Slowly making your way to Jon, seemingly waiting for you back he said nothing. Your lips parted to ask first, but he just pushed you gently in front of him at your lower back without a word. His hand much like earlier that day, slinking up to the white fur around your shoulders and curling into it just as none of the group was looking back at you.

Edd's voice finally begun to report, and Jon pushed you forward a bit more in order for you both to hear properly. “We kept getting more and more reports from rangers that they were seeing something far North, but we couldn't risk sending enough so far out to confirm it. So we had to wait and see, but then the days started getting shorter and slowly we saw it making it's way.”

Stannis's voice shouted a bit over top the swirling wind around. “Saw what?”

Turning the path, Edd reached one of the landings leading out to the North side of the Wall, and as you all gathered to look, silence fell upon each and every one of you. It was not in any dream, nor were any of you standing in a vision, but in the real world as you stepped up and closer to the edge where Edd stood. Jon's hand still firm behind you, as if keeping an ability to pull you from the edge, but everyone's eye's were wide.

It was far, so far off that it would take an unknown amount of weeks if not months to genuinely reach it.

The sky of the far North was utterly pitch black, no stars to be seen but it was covered up with a shimmering green. Waving thick in the night sky like a milk pouring against the dark and a shine glowing from it that memorized you as much as the pull of the Weirwood gate down below the ground did the same. As if the green made you want to pull your gloves off to reach out and grasp it.

Your father once more, was the first to speak up, as calm as he was unnerved only caught by your ears. “What is it?”

It had been Jon who answered, not Edd. “Them.”

All gazes found him, but he turned his head to the side to meet Edd's, who only nodded once slowly in a yes, yours never leaving the sight of green. “Aye. Days been getting shorter, and sooner or later that's going to reach us and we won't have days any more to worry about.”

Ser Davos somewhat behind you asked how he could be sure it was them, and while Edd's answer came in the formal report of what his rangers had found Jon had a much easier answer. The speculation running through the group until Jon tenderly rasped your name, you not noticing you hadn't blinked the second your eyes found the green.

Still, you didn't look away as you whispered. “It isn't normal darkness they'll bring, the further south they come the closer that will get. They bring it with them.” It was Sam that time repeated the ask of how you were sure, but it was the distance Jons eyes that was certain.

“Sam, what did the translation say?”

No one looked away from the shimmering green as Jon asked firmly. Pulling you now right into his side, you barley reacted as your eyes found nothing but the calling for it.

The answer almost didn't register to you, “It's the Nights Watch vow. I said the vow and that was how the gate opened the first time, but the symbols on the inside are also our vows.” Jon asking if that that included the symbols from the Others, and Sam nodded as wide eyed as everyone else. “Including the Others.”

Without his grasp, you may have fallen from the Wall, how dizzy you begun to feel. The white glow underground and the shimmering green glow in the far North your breathing picked up. Seen by the amount of white pouring from your every breath. Jon asked Edd how many rangers he currently had North, getting the answer of none in response.

“Good. Send word to the Shadow Tower and Eastwatch by the Sea. No one ranges North anymore for any reason. If any of them have men North, tell them to send a raven and get them back as soon as possible. If where they need to go isn't in the South already, no one is to leave.” Your head spun still further, it shook and it pounded and you begged to go back and see it once more or ask the unknowns why this both called to you and had you feel so unstable on your feet or in your mind.

You barley heard Jon even though he was giving orders right by your ear in an authoritative tone even more. “I'm not sending our brothers into another slaughter, and I don't want them thinking we're ranging North searching for one either.”

Standing next to Jons warmth, you could only see green, and you could only recall the sensation in a dream like vision almost a fortnight passed. The memory of an unseen freezing cold wrapping around your limbs like a lovers embrace, and yet it seemed in such a moment to stem in a harmony along the warm feeling Jon already was giving you. As if they were feelings tied together from him.

You had one thought, and the thought was you needed more answers and one way to get them was the only path available to you now. If they were coming, you had a purpose to fufill and it was to do more then be there to warm Jons bed. You had to be there for him in more ways then that and you couldn't do that if you couldn't get answers.

Your health, your well being be damned. They were coming and you'd sacrifice whatever was needed to ensure Jon lived through it to fight to the end. Even if it cost you yourself once more. The green wasn't terrifying like wildfire had been, but it was a symbol all on it's own without any bodies needed.

It was a message that you truly did not have time to avoid this anymore.

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

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dantesunbreaker · 4 months

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NSFW: In the Night Part II

(Terzo x AFAB!Reader)

A/N: I've got so many ideas for this story that it may need more chapters than I expected.

Sunlight stings your eyes as it breaks through the windows, unpleasantly pulling you from restless slumber. There is a dull ache pulsing throughout your body, coming to a warm throb at the juncture of your thighs. Memories of last night come crashing back to you like a five ton freight truck. Memories of a night full of love and passion...and the horrific image of your Terzo spewing blood, covering his hands, trickling down his arms and across the bed. Your eyes snap open, hand outstretched to reach for the man sleeping beside you... only to find an empty space. The black satin sheets look undisturbed, not a wrinkle in sight, as if no one had laid there in a long time.

Tears begin to fall before you can even think to stop them. It had all been a dream, a sweet blissful dream that allowed however brief of an escape from the heart wrenching reality you were so eager to forget. Your Terzo is dead. Taken from you far before his time, demise set in motion by the very same ministry he worked so hard to support.

In a fit of rage, you let out a scream of anguish as you hurl everything from the top of your nightstand to the floor. Furiously, you wipe your eyes with the backs of your hands as you rush for the bathroom, tripping on your discarded clothing along the way. Through blinding tears you splash cold water over your face in hopes to control the heat you feel rising up your cheeks. When your vision clears, you grip the edge of the sink, chest heaving as you stare down into the basin. Water swirls and spirals down towards the drain, but you give pause at the sight. Why is the water pink?

You feel as if an ice pick has struck your heart, time seemingly frozen as you slowly lift your gaze to the large mirror before you. Red streaks trickle down your cheek, half washed away. But left nearly pristine appears to be a lip mark left in blood adorning your forehead. Fresh tears burn as you grab a washcloth and begin to furiously scrub until your skin feels hot and raw. When there is no longer a speck of blood left on your skin you toss the cloth aside as if it were a snake that bit you.

What does this all mean? How could this be possible? Could Terzo actually still be alive? Was last night real?

Thoughts racing, you try to put together the pieces of this mental puzzle that is troubling your mind. If there was blood on your face, would there be more evidence that perhaps your dream was more than a dream? You make quick work of slipping into a fresh set of clothes, throwing your habit over top as you return to the bedroom with purpose. But a quick lap around the bed bears little fruit. Only your clothes seem to be strewn about where they were haphazardly thrown. Distressed, you pull back the sheets knowing that surely blood would have soaked through into the mattress.

“I don’t understand,” your distress only continues to reach new heights, finding not a single stain along the white fabric of the mattress. If there is no blood on the bed, then where did the blood on your face come from? Certainly you did not manage to kiss your own forehead. There is only one thing left you can think of to set the records straight.

You barely manage to get the door to your suite closed as you make a mad dash down the halls of the Abbey. On a mission, you don’t ever register that you collide shoulders with someone coming the opposite direction down the hall, sticking to your path completely unphased. Navigating through the numerous corridors, you feel as if a hand clutches your heart, squeezing tighter and tighter with each step closer to your destination.

Heart beating heavy against your chest, near ready to break free of your ribcage, you pause at the entrance of the crypt, palm pressed against the cool stone as you attempt to steel your nerves. Answers to your questions lie just beyond the archway, a single flight of stairs from where you stand. Part of you wishes to turn back, to walk away and leave it all up to mystery. Should the casket within lay empty, then perhaps you were not as crazy as the day is leading you to believe. But turning away now could also save you the heartache of knowing that your love is truly lost.

Sucking in a breath, you descend the first step. Inaction often serves far worse of a lesson than that of making a mistake. As you make your way down, you attempt to assemble emotional walls to block out the pain of whatever lies ahead. You know the futility of the attempt, but it brings you some sense of peace that eases your descent. When you reach the bottom, time seems to stand still. With a simple turn of your head you would have your answer. Instead, you choose to savor this moment for a little longer, cherishing the unknown as it allows you to cling to a flicker of hope. But nothing ever lasts forever, and so you turn.

Looking just like Snow White resting in a glass casket, your Terzo lies cold and still, ceremonial candles aglow all around. For a moment you feel a strike at your heart, suddenly overcome by immeasurable grief. It’s a feeling indistinguishable from the pain you felt that first moment you heard the news of your partner’s demise. Choking back a sob, you take a step into the chamber, trembling hand reaching out to trace along the edge of the coffin.

“Oh Terzo,” you sigh, moving to stand beside the head of the coffin, afraid to look at the lifeless face of the man you love. You feel foolish. This wasn’t the first time you have seen the body, there was a service after all. But yet, you still allowed that little glimmer of hope to cloud your mind. “What am I supposed to do with myself? Is this the first sign that I am going crazy?”

Of course, your questions go unanswered, leaving you alone with your own thoughts in disheartening silence. Sucking in a deep breath, you squeeze your eyes shut as you turn your head. Mentally you count backwards from three, forcing your eyes open as you reach the end of your countdown. Tears stain your cheeks for what feels like the hundredth time for the day as you gaze down at the former Papa. He looks so peaceful and serene. If you didn’t know any better, you could convince yourself he is only sleeping. As if at any moment those two toned eyes would snap open, Terzo leaping up to give you a start and then together sharing a laugh for how easily you were fooled. But unfortunately, that isn’t the punchline to this joke.

A sudden cool breeze hits, sending a sharp electrifying tingle from the top of your head down to your toes. Has someone else come to pay their respects? Terzo was a well loved member of the ministry, it would be of no surprise if he had regular visitors. But just as you prepare to call out, your voice catches in your throat, a whimpering moan coming out in its place. You can't mistake what feels as if someone has rubbed their hand over your crotch, palm digging in just right to strike a match of arousal in you. A surge of panic rushes through your veins, looking all around for whoever touched you, but there is nothing except for the sound of your heavy breathing and the occasional crack of an imperfect candle wick.

“I must really be losing it,” you close your eyes with a sigh, an arm resting atop the glass coffin and laying your head there. It was just your imagination playing tricks on you

So when you feel a hand running along the length of your spine you nearly scream as you lift your head to look all around. But you are alone. Yet, the pressure of a hand stays pressed to your lower back, having halted in place the moment you moved an inch. When it seems you have once again settled, this invisible hand continues its descent until it is cupping between your thighs.

Though you know that it must be wrong, you can't help but feel yourself growing wet from these phantom touches. Similar to a cool breeze, it feels soft and refreshing, a soothing relief to your tender sex. What kind of crazy makes you experience such vivid sexual fantasies? A yelp leaves your lips as you feel this hand begin to rub you over the layers of fabric. The damp splotch growing along your underwear is unmistakable.

“Oh, Terzo!” You moan out the name instinctively before you can stop yourself. The soft yet teasing touches are the same that Terzo would so commonly use to work you up. “Am I really imagining getting felt up by my partner...while resting against his coffin?” But you throw all caution and concern to the wind when the hand gives just the right amount of pressure as it drags along your sex. What harm could come from seeing this fantasy through?

With nothing to lose, you spread your legs, thighs parting so that your drenched pussy is more accessible. In the same instance, the hand parts your folds, two fingers sliding up to the knuckle inside of you with ease. Of their own accord, your hips buck back against the touch. A slow rhythm is set, fingers curling to stroke your walls in a just so perfect way. You press your cheek against the glass, arms spreading out as all your strength channels to your legs to fight against the urge to drop onto your wobbling knees. When the heel of the hand begins to press into your bundle of nerves with each thrust, you nearly cry.

“Oh fuuuuuck,” you’re near breathless as you moan softly, nails beginning to claw against the glass beneath you. “Oh I’m so fucking close!”

A third finger is suddenly stretching you out ever further, pounding into you with such force that your hips begin to bounce against the side of the coffin. Your core tightens, tension rising as you draw closer and closer to the edge. But nothing prepares you for the feeling of the fingers shifting in warning before a tongue suddenly circles your clit. A silent scream tears through your throat, head thrown back as your back arches, hips thrown back closer to the source of your pleasure.

Your climax hits you with such power that for a moment your vision becomes cloudy with a black haze, your body's way of fighting off a sensory overload. But there is nothing to be done about the way a mouth closes around your aching bud, sucking you feverishly as fingers continue to work you through your orgasm. It drives you mad, drawing out your peak to lengths you never thought possible. Tears gather at your eyes as you are pushed through overstimulation, your hips now bucking desperately to pull yourself away.

Only when you let out a sob, broken by pleasure, do you get any sense of relief as you topple through a second climax. This time you are slowly eased through with soft gentle touches that have you letting out demure sounds of ecstasy. You can feel something wet dripping down the inside of your thighs, your underwear completely soaking with the evidence of your release. A kiss presses against your clit with an almost fond gentleness as the fingers gingerly slide out of you. And then everything is gone, just as you watch as all the candles in the room are snuffed out, leaving you in a post-orgasmic daze.

As you come crashing down from your high, sweat clinging to your skin, your legs begin to tremble like a newborn fawn. The upper half of your body rests atop the glass casket, cheeks burning as you glance down at the man within. For the first time since Terzo’s passing, you look at his still face with a soft smile. You can easily imagine the witty remarks he would be making at seeing you in such a state, making a mess of yourself with only his hands and tongue. No one but your Terzo would know how to torture your body to just the right limit to have so feeling so euphoric.

“Yeah, I think I have absolutely lost it,” you sigh with a soft laugh, slowly regaining the strength in your legs as you straighten up. “First it’s a wet dream about you, and now I’m having a day time fantasy that has me making a mess of my pants. Seems even when you’re gone, I can’t keep you out of my head.”

One of your hands glides across the top of the coffin, stopping when your palm lies just above his heart. It feels as if the energy has been drained from the room, a cold empty feeling taking its place. You know that your sanity must be questionable because despite seeing your partner’s dead body in front of you, it truly felt as if he had been in the room, had been the one touching you. Not just your mind conjuring up a fantasy, but as if Terzo himself had somehow returned from beyond the grave just to remind you how well he knew your body.

“I love you, Terzo,” you sigh with a soft yet somber smile, wishing desperately that you could properly give a parting kiss. “I miss you so much, everything is so hard to face without you.”

Giving one last glance at the fallen Papa, you gather up the energy and strength to push off the casket so you can stand on your own. A brief moment of wobbling, legs feeling jelly-like, is all that occurs before you manage to find stable footing. Eyes cast down, you start on your way up the steps, full focus on keeping your legs from buckling out from under you. So when you reach the top of the stairs only to collide with something warm and solid, you can’t help but scream as you instinctively throw your arms around whatever is in front of you to keep you from falling.

“Uh.... Is everything alright, Sibling?” You hear a rather nervous, timid voice from above. Slowly your eyes pan up to meet with a pair of dual colored eyes. Well this isn’t good.

“Oh..um I’m sorry, Cardinal,” heat rushes into your cheeks as you realize you are practically wrapped around the newest arrival to the Abbey, pressed nearly chest to chest.

With a nervous laugh, you pull away abruptly, nearly toppling backwards down the stairs until just as equally as awkward, the Cardinal reaches out to hold you steady. A moment passes, both of you simply staring at each other before it seems your brain catches up with the rest of you. This time you manage to step to the side, standing well within the archway so that the threat of falling down the stairs is no longer so imminent.

“R-right, well..” Cardinal Copia giggles anxiously, pulling his hands back quickly once he realizes they are still resting on your shoulders. “There is uh, no need to apologize! And none of this Cardinal business, there is no need for formalities. Copia will do just fine.”

“Alright, Copia then,” even though you have yet to interact much, there is an endearing quality about his awkwardness that draws you in. A longing to know him better. “Well, was there something I could help you with?” You glance back down the stairs into the dark chamber below. “Or were you coming to pay your respects?”

Copia’s gaze follows yours, staring down into the dark depths of Terzo’s crypt. A somber yet comfortable silence falls over the pair of you, Copia’s hand tentatively moving to rest on your shoulder. When you don’t shake him off, Copia takes that as acceptance of his attempt at providing comfort.

“Well.. actually, it was you that I thought I could help,” your eyes flick up to Copia’s face when he breaks the silence with a suddenly more solemn tone. There you find a soft look of concern, one you feel all too undeserving of. “You seemed very troubled when we bumped shoulders in that hall, seemingly not present at the moment as you didn’t respond as I called out to you. I thought it best to at least come check on you.”

Red once again flushes up into your cheeks as you are hit with a sudden wave of embarrassment. How could you run into the Cardinal without noticing? That makes it twice in one day of colliding with the Cardinal. So much for good first impressions. Yet, your heart feels warmed at the thought of a near stranger feeling such concern for your well being, even when met with such an abrasive interaction. But...how could you explain to someone that you had such a vivid wet dream that you had to check if the man of your dreams was in fact dead?

“It was a dream,” you begin hesitantly, picking and choosing your words carefully but your voice begins to thicken with emotion as you once again think of the memory. “Terzo was in my dream last night, and...it felt so real. So when I woke up and he wasn’t there...I just had to make sure.”

It is then that you realize Copia still has a hand resting on your shoulder, for when your voice catches briefly in your throat, you feel a gentle squeeze that grounds you back into the moment. Your eyes feel watery, but you somehow manage to hold back the tears as you give Copia a weak smile. Nothing that could be said would make things better, and from the look in his eyes, you can tell Copia understands this. Instead, the hand at your shoulder pulls away, now offering it palm up, giving you the choice to join hands.

“How would you like to join me for lunch? I’m sure you never got the chance to have breakfast this morning,” Copia’s cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink, a smile quick to grace his lips when you slowly place your hand in his. “We can talk, or we can not talk. But whatever you should decide, I will gladly be there to help you through it...Should that be something you would like.”

You can’t help but chuckle at the Cardinal’s shy awkwardness, so much unlike Terzo, but still just as sweet and caring. “Yeah, I think I would like that.”

#papa emeritus iii x reader #papa emeritus x reader #terzo x reader #papa emeritus iii #cardinal copia #terzo #ghost fanfiction

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coolcattime · 7 months

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A Moment of Rest (A Mianite YTTD Snippet)

Written for Day 2 (AU/Post canon) of MCYT Yuri Week created by @mcyt-yuri-week

Content Warning: Contains discussion of off screen deaths and violence

Relationships: Captain Capsize/Sonja Firefoxx

Characters: Sonja Firefoxx, Captain Capsize, Spark Conway

The following takes place in the brief rest period between the end first Main Game and the beginning of the next set of sub games. At the current point in time, nine of the participants remain alive.

As their first day in this death game draws to a close, Capsize and Sonja sit together thinking about the events of the day. Despite neither wanting to think about the main game, Capsize feels the need to thank her new friend for her defence.

AO3 Link

Full AU Tag

Tom and Alyssa were both sleeping as peacefully as Capsize and Sonja assumed possible given the situation. Even if said sleep was fitful, it was surely better than nothing. They’d been here a day, and they'd watched three people die horribly. Even having only just met those who had died, it had been horrific, neither could imagine the full effect of the situation on the two they were watching over as they waited for the next floor to open. Neither particularly liked the silence that had settled since they had managed to coax Alyssa into getting some sleep, it let their minds wander too much into the reality that they found themselves in, but that wasn't really something they could avoid thinking about now. However, no matter how much she wanted to avoid thinking about it altogether, there was a certain part of the Main Game, beyond the horrifying deaths that had marked its end, that still itched in the mind of one of the two.

“I haven't thanked you yet," Capsize broke the silence, causing Sonja to abruptly be broken out of her own thoughts. She looked a little confused towards the other woman, not thinking of anything she needed to be thanked for, but it had been a hell of a day, maybe it’d slipped her mind. The singer avoided her eyes, drumming her fingers against her knee rhythmically wishing she had an actual instrument to focus her thoughts. “When everyone was accusing me of being a murderer, you defended me and I, uh, I really appreciate it.”

“You don’t need to thank me for that!” She spoke a little too loudly at first, causing a brief stir from Alyssa, before hushing herself. She didn’t mean to be loud; she just still couldn’t quite believe what a mess the Main Game had been, how little it took for everyone to start turning on each other. How quickly it had turned from everyone working together to trying to pick out the most useless of the group and people lying to save themselves. She’d barely wanted to show the version of the paper she’d pieced together from the shredder. Even with it having an obvious mistake, it still pointed towards Tom being a murderer, and she didn’t want to throw that landmine into the discussion. She’d been so glad when Tom brought out the scrap piece he’d found, when she saw how clearly it matched up with the tear line to show that he wasn’t a killer. The fact that it immediately pointed towards Capsize as the killer instead felt like a gut punch. “Them all turning on you, like you hadn’t spent the whole time helping, it was disgusting. Besides, it’s not like my defence did much.”

“You told them all it was bullshit, that’s good enough for me,” They both laughed, though it was a quiet and hollow feeling. Capsize wondered how close she was to getting voted up. What would’ve happened if Red hadn’t revealed himself as the murderer, as her brother? It felt repulsive to think about, the sort of thing she really didn’t want to think about because the entire situation was beyond messed up. She was happy to be alive but at the same time, they’d voted to kill someone. She’d voted to kill someone. Even if they’d been forced to, it still felt beyond uncomfortable. It was an odd mix, both were happy to be alive, but that came at the expense of two people who weren’t. No one had deserved to die, so how could they really be happy beyond the fact that they haven’t turned on each other?

“Well, I had to do something. You’ve been helping this whole time. You were willing to lose an arm for me. Even if you had killed someone, I can’t believe you were a bad person,” She honestly hadn’t been sure. Seeing the words ‘Dunbar … Murderer’ on the torn-up sheet was enough to make her question, but when she’d been locked in that deathtrap, when everything had seemed hopeless, Capsize had placed her arm in front of the arrows aimed at her, smiling as if risking her arm being shot point blank by multiple arrows was no big deal. Sonja’s mind had been set, regardless of what Capsize might’ve done outside of the game, she was a good person. Oh course, most of the others haven’t cared. “I owe you so much.”

‘It must be nice to just be able to see a pretty face assume morals based on that. Really, do you have any logical thoughts?’ She’d been dismissed just like that, treated like she was wrong for speaking emotionally. It wasn’t as if her point had been devoid of logic, she was just making a different point than the majority. It would’ve felt belittling if the situation hadn’t been so serious. Instead, it just made her blood boil and she’d yelled more. She was pretty sure she’d made the situation worse, lead to just more intense demands to Capsize to tell the truth. It hadn't mattered once Redbeard yelled over the lot of them to reveal his identity, but what if he hadn't been there? Why did everyone just decide guilty until proven innocent even despite previous actions?

“You don’t owe me anything. Just seriously, thank you,” She said, making sure to sound sincere as it was important to her that Sonja knew how much the defence had meant to her. She mulled over the whole argument that had happened. She’d felt so lost, nearly everyone turned on her so quickly, and she’d just floundered. But it had been nice to have someone still believe in her, still try and fight for her when it looked like she might’ve been the worst kind of person. And she remembered what had been yelled at Sonja, and wondered if she should say more, if there really was anything more that she could say on the topic without making assumptions. But Sonja decided to continue the conversation instead.

"Do you really think there's gonna be a way out of here? No more death or having to vote?" She asked carefully, not quite being sure if she herself believed such a thing possible. Capsize looked at her, at downcast eyes and hands playing with the fabric of her apron. She thought of the two they were watching over, of Alyssa screaming as she watched her dad be killed by the same collar still fixed around all of their necks, of Tom desperately trying to deny reality as the results of the Main Game were announced. It had been as horrible as the deaths themselves, hope sucking. She couldn't blame anyone for losing hope, but she couldn't.

"Yeah, there has to be, I'm not dying in someone's idea of a sick joke. There's stuff I've still got to do," She spoke as if there was no doubt in her mind, like she had the whole thing figured out. Sonja looked more towards her and saw the same smile she had had during the death trap, one so reassuring that said despite reality that everything was going to be okay. And she wanted more than anything to believe that smile. "And, even if we are stuck in this mess, I'll keep on protecting you lot. So, you don't need to worry."

"You shouldn't place a burden like that on your shoulders."

"It’s not a burden..." Capsize paused, drumming her fingers on her leg again, wondering if she should actually say what she wanted to. She feared sounding too forward, that it'll be weird given the situation, but one of them could be dead tomorrow. She had enough regrets without adding another one born of cowardice. "And... we are both gonna get out of here. I know we will ‘cause, well, I was kinda hoping we could maybe go somewhere maybe grab a drink, a coffee, together just the two of us once we got out of here, so it'd really suck if we didn't."

Sonja hummed in response, it not quite clicking what had been said until after she had already done so, causing her to suddenly jolt at her own seeming indifference. She turned to see Capsize looking almost sheepish, an odd look for someone who had been bold and loud the whole time. And Sonja was almost sure she misheard because the pretty punk girl she'd met in a death game had just asked her out for coffee. She almost wanted to laugh because it almost felt like the world itself was playing a trick on her. Though she didn't, which was without a doubt good for Capsize's confidence as she already felt that she'd put her foot in her mouth. Sonja instead lent a little closer to her, taking her hand that was currently at rest and lacing her fingers between half-gloved ones. She looked at her with as much a smile as she could muster.

"I'd love to get coffee whenever we get out of here," She said. For the briefest moment, the two women looked at each other and it almost felt like they weren't in a live or death situation, like there was no chance of these being their last few days alive. They were so close to each other, close enough to hear the other's heartbeat. And maybe it was just the whole 'we might die soon thing', but they did lean even closer, close enough to feel breath on their face, to know what was about to happen. To lean even closer, their lips practically touching--

A loud clearing of a throat got them to jump away from each other with red faces. Sonja shrank inwards while Capsize glared with no end of annoyance at Spark who lent against a wall with a grin on his face. Did he seriously have to look so smug?

"Sorry to interrupt, but the next floor's open. Thought you might want some help carrying these two," He said, nodding towards Tom and Alyssa. The atmosphere was beyond awkward. Though it was certainly a no win situation for the man as, had he waited until they were done, the tension in the air would have certainly been worse. A groan left Capsize as she had to acknowledge he had a good reason for interrupting but didn't want to. She wanted to live in the previous moment, but it had already passed and flittered out of reach. She pressed her wrist against her forehead, forcing herself to take a breath, to collect her thoughts before speaking.

"You're definitely not sorry, but carry Tom and I'll consider forgiving you," Capsize said, bluntly but there was the slightest hint of levity in her tone. Spark counted himself lucky as he wasn't sure anyone else would've gotten a response so calm from her. He decided to take that as a compliment, even if it did look like she wanted to throttle him.

As Capsize scooped up Alyssa, and Spark figured out the best way to move Tom without waking him, Sonja fidgeted. Now wasn't the time to be embarrassed, and she wasn't, not really, but she couldn't help but worry about the detective telling the others what he had interrupted.

"Hey Spark, you, err," She started, sorting through her head for the right phrasing. "You aren't going to tell anyone that we were gonna--"

"That you were going to kiss?" Spark asked, an eyebrow raised. Sonja squeaked and Capsize grimaced in preparation for the answer. But he shook his head and laughed quietly. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with Mr Detective."

'If only all our secrets could be so light-hearted.' Spark thought as saw the relief wash across their features. They couldn't be of course, and he dreaded some of his own being revealed, but at least he could give some reassurances to other people, however small, as they proceeded into whatever horrors the next stage of this game was going to offer.

#mcytyuriweek2023 #sonja firefoxx #captain capsize #foxxsize #sonja firefoxx/captain capsize #mianite #mianite fanfiction #cat's fanfiction #mianite yttd au #spark conway #not pictured: them finding private bedrooms on the next floor and going somewhere cockblock detectives can't

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ahogedetective · 1 year

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*while shuichi's in his bedroom, he'll suddenly find himself completely in the dark! at first it seems like it might just be a power outage due to the storm outside, but the most curious thing will happen as his door then slowly opens wide, the hallway dimly lit with an almost ominous, ethereal glow. then, disturbingly familiar music will begin to play, starting off rather faint before slowly gaining in volume, signaling the arrival of something twisted and not of this world...*

*suddenly, a red hand grips the doorframe, the thing trembling as it holds onto it. it begins writhing as best as it can, parts of its red 'arm' visible just barely beyond the detective's field of vision, the thing seemingly getting more agitated before it suddenly... stops.*

"GRAWWAAAAARRR!"

*it gives a shrill cry while it flails and jerks uncontrollably against the wall, another red hand joining its unnatural movements as it seems to have noticed the detective's presence! then, just when it seems as if they'll try to grab him... they'll suddenly flip the nearby light back on!*

"Whew! That's a pretty bad storm outside, right? It took forever to get back here 'cause I dropped my phone down the stairs and didn't wanna trip trying to get it! Guess it must have landed on some Halloween video or something. It's pretty spooky hu? Haha!" *david has the most innocent look on his face, giving a bright smile as he places his hands on his hips!*

"Oh, hope you don't mind me borrowing these red cleaning gloves. Taka told me how he was dusting stuff the last time he was here and I thought it would be a good idea to follow suit. I think you'll find your sink to be so clean that it's sparking!"

After enjoying another fun couple of hours playing Zelda, Shuichi was about to place his Switch on the charging dock, when the lights suddenly went out. "?!" He let out a startled gasp, instantly halting. "A... A power outage?? Oh that's just-" Then...he starts to hear his door opening. On it's own...? "....Great.......huh....?" He freezes, head slowly turning to the door to see if he imagined that sound. But no, his door was open. If that didn't unnerve him enough, then the sound of music-that music-"Wh.....What....?" Especially sent a chill down his spine. "I... I put my switch on sleep mode, didn't I?" He hurriedly grabs it just to double check. "Didn't I?! It's off!! So why am I hearing that music?! Wh-!" Then, as he turns his head back to the door.... he saw it. A red, glowing, trembling hand grip the doorframe. "..............?........?!........."

He couldn't even let out a noise, with the way his mouth was agape, eyes wide as saucers as his console slips out of his hands. No, he thinks to himself; this couldn't be real. There was no way those horrific gloom hands were at his door. He was simply hallucinating it, was all; or perhaps unknowingly dozed off at some point, and just having a nightmare. That's it, that's all! But those excuses he tries to delude himself with, would be shattered the moment that monster emits that bloodcurling screech. "Ha.....aaaaaaaaaaahh......!!" The slow backing up he does... will turn into him practically slamming his back against the wall in full blown panic. "AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!"

Is the immensely loud scream the detective utters, now scrambling about the room before he leaps onto his bed!!!! "WHHAAAAAAAHIIIEEEE?!?!??"Just nothing but screams leaving him as he sees not just one, but two of those demonic hands gripping at his door so aggressively. Every and all sense of logic left him, knowing only fear as he yanks a random book off his shelf. And just as he was about to launch it at those hands...his lights are turned on, revealing...David?! "Wh-aaaaa-aa-a-a....?" His voice is cracked and raspy from having screamed so loud, as he utters that. "D...Da....ahh...?" The whole while David is talking, Shuichi is staring at him like a deer in the headlights, still standing on top of his bed and arm still frozen in the 'throwing' position and everything. "..................................................." For an entire minute after David finished talking, nothing but the sound of rain fills the room, as Shuichi slowly registers everything he just told him. "D-Daaaa....Dav....." He could not believe this... it was all just one, really good scare prank by David. Those 'gloom hands', were just those red cleaning gloves!!!

"DAVID!!!!" Having half a mind to still launch his book at him if it weren't a hardback one, Shuichi drops it and instead grabs one of his pillows and launches it at his face, before grabbing another one, leaping off the bed, and tackles him down to the ground, so he can start whapping him repeatedly with it. "You bastard!!!! I-I can't BELIEVE you!!! I almost had a heart attack!!!" Now he's pouting very hard, face now several shades of red in embarrassment. It was bad enough he clinged to David yesterday when he got scared by those hands, and now this! Oh he knows his sane bro, will never let him live this down... "'Must have landed'-y-yeah, right! Don't try to act innocent here, you completely did that on purpose! A-And don't think that because you cleaned some of my things, which I do thank you for, that I'm letting you off the hook, t-teasing me like that! You are the worst!!! I'll show you spooky! uuueeuuueeerrrgghhhhh!!!!!!"

Shuichi isn't genuinely upset of course, but he still will not show a shred of mercy with the continuous pillow whaps he's giving him, before he now starts pummeling hs chest with his fists, whines and whimpers leaving him, now. He's so embarrassed, he could die. He now never wants to look at a pair of red gloves of any variety, ever again......

#FDJKNFNDVDFJDDFJ AND THERE IT IS!!!!!!!!!!!!! DAVIIIIIIIIID!!!!!#JKDFJKFDFFDJ MAKING UR SANE BROTAG BRO SCREAM LOUDER THAN PROLLY THE FUGKING THUNDER!!!!! ⚡#THE MOST POUTY EMBARRASSED SUSHI ROLL.............. TEASED SO ~CRUELLY~ HE CANNOT BELIIEVE!!!#all cause of the 👁✋!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#FJFDNKJKFD he is still LOCKING that door when he goes to sleep later! if at all smh!!!!!!!!!!! DISASTER BOYS!!!!!!#FKFNDJ THIS WAS SO FUNNY I LOVE IT..... but now David must face the wrath of his ferocious w h a p s!!!! 💥💥#Shuichi answers;;#essenceofjustice

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sleepy-yet-intruiged · 2 years

Text

(^cross-posted from here)

“Hey, old man.”

Lilia whirled around, and feigned surprise. “Silver! I see you’ve gotten better at sneaking up on people. I’ve taught you so well.” He wiped away an imaginary tear.

Silver felt the smallest twinge of guilt. When questioned, he’d neglected to mention that the spell he’d attempted to cast had failed. All he’d told everyone was that it cured his sleepiness. He was sure that whatever the side effects were, he could fix it himself; no need to make others worry about him.

He mentally shook the thoughts away from his head. His mind had never been so cluttered before. Was this how other people felt? “I was just wondering.. if it’s alright for me to join you in your video games.” He said, a bit awkwardly.

Lilia blinked in genuine astonishment for a moment, before grinning widely. “Why Silver, of course you can!” He exclaimed. “But, why are you interested all of a sudden? You never asked before.”

“That’s because I never had the time or energy for it.” Silver responded with full honesty as he crossed his arms. “Until now.” He gave his father a tiny smile. Perhaps I shouldn’t worry so much. He thought to himself. Perhaps it’s merely paranoia. It was a spark of hope that he’d clung onto like his life depended on it.

Besides his tiredness disappearing, he truly didn’t feel much different after the potion exploded. He still felt the same, just… with more energy.

Maybe he’d wake up tomorrow and everything would go back to normal.

He tried not to think about the warnings he’d seen in that book as they walked to Lilia’s room. He tried not to think about how the words sent an icy chill down his spine as he read them, but desperation had won against his fear.

Am I going to regret this? Was a thought that had occured to him as he was brewing the special potion necessary to complete the spell. It’d contained many different ingredients, all to be measured and mixed with the upmost precision.

Silver couldn’t stop himself from frowning at the memory. No. It’s going to be fine. To his knowledge, nothing drastic had happened, so he could just wait until tomorrow to worry about it.

For now, he could just enjoy spending time with his father. A small luxury that he’d missed quite a lot.

I mean, really. He thought as Lilia handed him a controller.

What’s the worst that could happen?

~~~

Silver stretched his limbs in bed, feeling a perfectly normal amount of tired after playing a video game with his father until midnight.

The controls were quite confusing— he wasn’t used to this type of technology, crafted for the sole purpose of entertainment rather than something useful.

He did enjoy hearing Lilia’s laughter, though. A fond smile graced his lips as he remembered his father’s enthusiasm as he showed him the controls.

He felt a peculiar mix of satisfaction and unease in his chest. On one hand, it felt so freeing to not fall asleep every time he relaxed his body. On the other, it was beyond unsettling to lie down like this, and not feel himself slipping into unconsciousness. Normally, he would be deep in slumber by now.

That’s a good thing. He reminded himself. This is exactly what I wanted.

And yet…

He shut his eyes, trying to ignore the gnawing anxiety at the back of his mind. He knew something had to be wrong; that was a given. After all, his first attempt at curing himself had quite literally exploded in his face. The book made it crystal clear that a single mistake could lead to horrific results.

But nothing was noticeably worse. The day went by just fine, except one of his deepest desires had finally come true. Some people would kill for an opportunity like this.

So why did that make him feel more nervous than reassured?

He opened his eyes for a moment to check the time on the clock. 12:40.

Better sleep now if I want to get up early in the morning.

He completely relaxed, sinking further into the mattress. He stayed that way for what felt like hours. Silver felt a creeping sense of unease as he realized he was still conscious.

This is probably normal. He thought, mainly to soothe his nerves. Other people don’t fall asleep right away. It’s okay.

He tossed and turned around in bed, all while attempting to squash a growing feeling of panic. A few times, he stayed still for so long he thought he had to have fallen asleep, but looking at the clock, the amount of time that’d passed was much too short for that to have happened.

1:14.

1:23.

1:37.

1:46.

2:01.

It’s just my nerves. He kept telling himself as he continuously checked the time. Anxiety keeps people awake, right? I’ve been worrying all day, of course I’ll have some trouble falling asleep.

2:30.

3:02.

3:45.

4:09.

Now he was really scared, which was a rare emotion for him.

The thing was, he felt tired. He wanted to go to sleep. His body was fatigued and needed rest, no matter what he was feeling.

So why couldn’t he—?

No.

No no no no no no no no…

It felt like a lightning bolt striking him on the spot.

It had been one of the possibilities listed in the book, but Silver didn’t think… he didn’t want to believe it could’ve happened to him.

He tried even harder to fall asleep; counting the seconds, thinking of peaceful thoughts.

4:18.

He felt his hands trembling as they clutched his pillow.

There was no other explanation.

Silver took a deep, shuddering breath.

I got rid of my curse… by giving myself another one.

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst #twst silver #twisted wonderland silver #lilia vanrouge #twst lilia #twisted wonderland lilia #silver vanrouge #diasomnia #twst diasomnia #twisted wonderland fanfic #cross posted on ao3

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random-thought-depository · 2 years

Text

Awful (affectionate) thought: Magpie is basically the same kind of character as Stef from The Sisters of Dorley: a nice but not good person in a horrifically violent social environment full of horrible people, whose niceness turns out to be a kind of charisma and thus a kind of superpower in that environment. They have different situation-specific variations on the same "superpower": a highly contingent situation-specific ability to get absolutely horrible terrifying violent people cooing "aww, he is such a sweet pure cinnamon roll too good this world, we should be nice to him!" over them. I wonder what they'd think of each other if they met?

Come to think of it, a more "on genre" crossover would be "what if Magpie and Gemma met?" which I think would also be interesting, though in a more "what if Superman fought Batman" sort of sense; I think they'd likely try to kill each other, but they'd be OCP threats to each other; would be interesting to see who'd win. Amusingly, Gemma in-story quantified her strength by talking about which comic book/Marvel movie superheroes she thought she could beat, so I think she might appreciate the question, "Do you think you could beat a Blindsight vampire, and if you had to fight one what would you do?"

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

Oh, one thing I forget to mention in that OC write-up post: Stargazer sometimes suffers from insomnia. I remembered it while writing this cause I got inspiration for this from a line in one of Alyson's old fanfics:

"How do they do it? How do humans sleep? How do they put aside all the problems they have to solve, forget the tasks that have gone undone, close their eyes, and dream?"

Stargazer has probably had thoughts very much like this, but for her version, replace "humans" with "vampires," and her version is asking this about how vampires fall asleep so easily, how they put themselves in open-eye sleep, how they shut down most of their thought processes when they have nothing to do, how they think just as much as they need to. To Stargazer and her family, it seems intuitive and logical to think of her insomnia as of a piece with her inability to do open-eye sleep and her inability to put parts of her brain on standby during waking consciousness; they all make sense as symptoms of her tendency toward perseveration! This might even be a somewhat accurate model of the neurology at work.

Of course, they know humans don't always (or even usually) suffer from insomnia, so I think she does also sometimes ask herself stuff like "How do humans fall asleep easily? Do they do it with some organ I didn't inherit? They're so vision-dependent, and they usually sleep at night, when they're blind; is it easier to quiet your thoughts if you can't see or hear or smell anything? Is that my problem; I hear and smell so much, so I can never experience the thing humans mean by darkness, which isn't just absence of light but absence of perception of anything beyond the body and the things directly touching it? Does being an inactive recumbent body surrounded by lightless, soundless, scentless space relax them because it's kind of like being an embryo again? If I could experience it, would it relax me too?"

#Blindsight #project Blampire fanfic #The Sisters of Dorley #how the other sees us

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honeypiehotchner · 2 years

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better (Hotch x Fem!Reader) — one shot

This could basically be the smutty companion to my other one shot, He’s different, he’s better but you don’t need to read that one to understand this one because it’s all smut <3

Warnings: smut…filth. It’s just smut y’all. “good girl,” oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, kinda fluffy I think, basically Hotch knows he’s the best you’ll ever have so he proves it

Reminder that my smut is 18+ only, so if you’re under 18, please disregard this post xx.

Sometimes when you’re trying to fall asleep at night, all you can think of are your life’s worst moments.

It’s like America’s Funniest Home Videos, but just constant tapes of your most embarrassing, horrific, and all around cringe-inducing scenes.

Tonight, in particular, is the fact that you used to sleep with your ex — and enjoy it.

Eugh.

“What was that face about?” Aaron, your current boyfriend, is still awake (per usual), doing something on his laptop (probably paperwork or emails, or both, knowing him).

If you’re being honest, you forgot he was even sitting there. That’s how deep your mind sucks you in.

Opening your eyes, you grimace. “Just thinking.”

Aaron raises his eyebrows worriedly. He knows how you can get, especially late at night. “About?”

“It’s stupid.”

Just like that, he closes his laptop. “I doubt that.”

“You’re sure you want to know?”

Aaron nods, sliding his laptop back into his work bag that sits on the floor by his nightstand. “What is it?”

“Alright,” you take a deep breath, biting the bullet. “I used to sleep with my ex.”

Your boyfriend, as patient as he is, is confused beyond measure because this isn’t new news. “Yes?”

“Exactly.” You prop yourself up on one elbow. “I used to have sex with them. And enjoy it. That’s disgusting.”

Aaron laughs. “I see.”

You’re still going, though. “I can’t believe I enjoyed it! That’s what’s getting me, Aaron, I liked it, and it was so bad. So bad. Who was I?”

“You were you,” he says softly, but then he smiles, all smug. “The You who hadn’t met me yet.”

“True,” you nod, a smile stretching across your lips. “I didn’t know any better.”

Sliding down next to you, Aaron says, “And now you do.”

“Now I do,” you murmur. “Now I know much better.”

“Much, huh?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Mhm,” you hum, resting your hands on his bare chest. “Much, much better.”

“Well, I am glad to hear that,” he replies, grabbing one of your hands and bringing it to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “But I hate that you still think about your ex.”

You frown, mistaking his statement for upset. “I don’t think about them like that—”

“I know, but it’s still on your mind, so I’m going to distract you.”

“Oh, really?” You grin, liking where this is going. “How are you going to do that?”

“Well, for starters, you said you used to enjoy the sex, but they never gave you head, did they?”

“No,” you say quietly, your body already beginning to feel hot all over. Aaron only knows this because on your second date, he was ready to go down on you, and you were shocked beyond words. He made you cum three times that night, and didn’t even cum once himself.

“Then that’s the first difference,” Aaron says, sitting up. “And the sole reason that I’m better than they ever were. Because I happen to love the way you taste.”

“Aaron!” you squeak. He always catches you off guard, talking like this. He’s normally so calm and collected, but he flips the switch to sexy so easily.

He only grins at you as he steps off the bed, grabbing a pillow with him. Your eyes widen, knowing exactly where this is going.

Flipping the sheets off your body, he grabs onto your ankles and pulls you toward him. “Lift your hips for me,” he whispers, sliding the pillow underneath you when you oblige him. “Good girl.”

The praise falls from his lips so gently, yet you want to grab the nearest blanket and smother yourself with it.

Since you and Aaron are pretty serious in your relationship, you had gotten in the habit of sleeping in one of his shirts and your underwear — that’s it. Meaning, there’s only one thin layer of fabric separating you from his touch, and he wastes no time taking it off.

“Perfect,” he says, kneeling at the foot of the bed, his hands rubbing your calves. “Have I told you how perfect you are?”

“Once or twice,” you murmur, tilting your head to see him. Something about the sight of him between your legs always sends your mind reeling, and you can feel yourself clench around nothing.

Aaron groans loudly. “I love it when you do that.” It nearly happens again from his words. “I could just watch you all day. Exactly like this.”

“At least touch me if you’re going to watch,” you comment, groaning loudly when he latches onto your clit, sucking gently and stroking it with his tongue. “Jesus Christ.”

Aaron hums, burying his nose further in the neat hairs on your mound. “You are…” he pauses, kissing you gently, still so close that you feel his lips on your vagina. “Divine.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, he dives right back in, this time placing his hands underneath your ass to press you further into his face.

“Aaron,” you breathe, back arching. “Aaron, god, you’re—”

He pulls back slightly. “What else did they not do?” Then looks up at you, and the look alone makes you want to pass out. “Oh right, make you cum.”

“Well—”

“If you’re questioning whether or not you did, then you didn’t,” Aaron says gently, but firmly. “That’s okay, though. Not your fault. And I don’t want anyone else making you feel this way.”

“Only you,” you gasp.

“Good,” he mumbles, smiling against your clit. “Now are you going to cum for me?”

You toss your head back into the pillows. “Yes.”

“That’s my good girl.”

And that’s all it takes, before you’re a crumbling mess, shaking in his arms, your hands flying to his hair to tug harshly.

“Let it out, honey,” Aaron murmurs, not moving from between your legs, holding you hostage with his mouth.

You run your fingers through his hair, calming yourself down while he softly kisses your inner thighs.

When he gets a little too close to your pussy again, you grab his hair again, tugging harder. He doesn’t get the message, so you start scratching his shoulders.

“What?” He laughs, raising his head. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to get you to come up here and get inside of me.”

“Say no more,” Aaron comments, standing up abruptly. He kicks off his boxers, climbing over you. “Hi,” he murmurs, grinning down at you.

“Hi,” you laugh, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. You steal a kiss on his nose, making him laugh.

“Now, I believe—” He cuts himself off because you’ve moved one arm, guiding him inside of you. “Oh.”

“You talk too much,” you breathe, arching your back, pushing him in further.

“You’re the only person who tells me that,” he whispers, his voice giving out on him from the feeling that is your warmth.

“I don’t know how,” you say, locking your heels together at his lower back. “Now, please, fuck me.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” he thrusts his hips forward, slamming into yours. “God.”

He buries his head in your neck, and you wrap your arms around him, pulling him close, as close as you can get him, and then some.

“Deeper,” you gasp.

“You already have me.”

“Go deeper.”

“You are insatiable.”

“I know that.”

“Smart mouth,” he mutters, pressing his hips into yours, no doubt leaving what will become bruises tomorrow on your skin. “Is this what you wanted?” He growled. “Deeper?”

“Mhm—”

“What? You can’t speak now?”

“I—”

“That’s what I thought,” he chuckles. “That’s okay, you don’t need to speak. I’ve got you.”

A broken sob leaves your lips when he begins pounding into you. He wastes no time in getting you close to the edge and throwing you over before going for a third.

“One more,” he murmurs, slowing his thrusts briefly, soothing you. “One more for me.”

“Cum in me,” you whimper, knowing it’s what will throw you over again, and knowing it’s what you need. “Please.”

“Don’t worry,” he kisses you gently. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you, sweet girl.”

All it takes for you to reach your climax this time is arching your back, and that’s all it takes for Aaron to spill inside of you.

“Stay,” you hug him tightly. “Just stay.”

“Alright,” he murmurs. You always ask, even though he knows. “I’m not moving.”

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x reader #hotch x fem!reader #hotch x you #aaron hotchner smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #hotch smut

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mermaid-trash · 2 years

Note

Had this dream last night that might make a good request?? Dunno, you be the judge xD

Reader is a very sought after lawyer, always winning cases for these really deranged peeps. Somehow she ends up being Jokers lawyer, and ya know obviously it doesn’t stay at that 😅

Trials and Tribulations

Keoghan!Joker x gn!reader

A/n: When I got this request a couple of days ago, I dropped all of my wips to work only on this, this was such a good request and I had a lot of fun writing it 💚 also I don’t know how American lawyers work so this is based on my limited knowledge of English criminal law ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Warnings: derogatory language surrounding mental illness, kidnapping, manipulation

Wordcount: 3.4k

The sound of your heels clacking against the hard concrete floor reverberated through the bleak hallways of Arkham Hospital, ringing in your ears as you made your way through the maze-like layout of the building, flanked on either side by burly armed guards.

Your hands trembled slightly, the coffee you clutched shaking in the flimsy cardboard cup, brought on from a mixture of nerves and sleep-deprivation from preparing for this new case fervently for weeks.

You were confident in your abilities as a lawyer, usually; you had graduated with near perfect scores from law school and built your career from the ground up, gaining yourself a reputation as the best criminal lawyer in Gotham. Now, you represented people convicted of violent crimes at their appeals. You had been the legal representative for many dangerous people in your time as a lawyer, criminals convicted of gruesome murders and mass shootings, and now you had been hired to represent the most dangerous man in all of Gotham.

At least it pays well, you thought.

Like everyone else in Gotham, you had heard stories of Joker and his psychotic tendencies towards destruction and mayhem, seen footage of the aftermath of his attacks on millionaire’s galas on the news. You knew exactly what he was capable of, and though you tried to remain unbiased about your clients, you weren’t sure you wanted Joker out of Arkham.

Luckily, after your many hours of research into statutes and cases while poring over the grisly details of the murders known to have been comitted by Joker, you had arrived at the conclusion that getting his sentence reduced would be almost impossible. The realisation that this would be a very public loss for you and could affect your reputation was followed by the realisation that it was your responsibility to deliver this bad news to the madman that was paying you, somehow. You hoped beyond hope that the security at Arkham could ensure that you would leave this visit alive.

Your hopeful attitude was not supported by the guards expressions as they led you to a heavy door and keyed in a code to unlock it. One of them gave you a grim look as though he were picturing the mangled state your body could be left in.

“If he tries anything, press the buzzer next to the door and we’ll let you out.” He said gruffly, and the severity of the situation you were in started to seep through the barriers of professionalism you had built up over the years.

“Okay, thank you.” You managed to choke out, before the door buzzed and slid open with a grating mechanical noise.

Joker sat at the table on his side of the reinforced safety partition, his body hunched over with his forehead against the table, leaving only the back of his scarred head and a few tufts of acid green hair in view. When he heard your footsteps cross the threshold of the room, however, his head snapped up at an unnerving speed, and you froze where you stood, as though hoping you could blend into the door behind you.

Staring into the face of the man that had terrorised Gotham relentlessly for his own twisted pleasure, you found yourself thinking that the photos that had been plastered all over newspapers after his arrest just didn’t do him justice.

With his horrific twisted grin and the manic glint in his eyes, he was as terrifying as the pictures made you believe, but nothing could have prepared you for the way his dark stare would feel when it was fixed on your face. For a moment, you were certain that he was in your mind, rifling through your thoughts from the moment you had entered the room. Even though you knew he couldn’t really read your mind, the thought still made you feel vulnerable.

You and Joker stare at each other for a long moment, both weighing each other up, until without warning, he burst into a fit of uncontrollable giggles.

“So, you’re the poor thing that’s gonna try to get me off?” He asked when his laughter dies down. His voice was low and gravelly, menacing enough to send a chill down the length of your spine.

Despite your best efforts to remain professional, you couldn’t help the light scoff that you let out. To your horror, Joker noticed, and his eyes darkened a shade, still fixed on your face. Fear trickled through your veins like cold water.

“What was that, dolly?” He asked in a low hiss, and your heart sped up. “Speak up.”

Staring back at him, you made the split second decision to meet his overwhelming confidence with some of your own. Hopefully the glass partition was solid enough to keep him on the other side.

“Well, I’m the best lawyer in Gotham, my rates are twice that of most other lawyers in the city, and I don’t think even I can get you off.” You replied, striding across the room to take your seat opposite him as you spoke. His fierce gaze followed your movements, and you caught the way they lit up at your change in demeanour. He chuckled at your words.

“Y’know, peach, all of those cheaper lawyers said the same thing. ‘Even the best lawyer in Gotham couldn’t get you out of here.’” Joker said in a mocking imitation of someone’s voice.

“In fact,” He continued, leaning in conspiratorially so that his face was thrust into deeper shadows. “I’ve heard a lot about you since I to thrown in here. A lot of the loonies here know you, said you got their sentences reduced.”

“I do a lot of work for patients in Arkham, yes.” You replied tactfully. Joker grinned at your careful response, and you took his pause as an opportunity to move the topic of conversation onto the reason you were here.

Joker’s eyes widened in glee when you pulled a heavy file from your bag, full of the careful research you had put together.

“So, from the research I’ve done over the past four weeks, there’s…very little chance that you’re getting out of here…ever.” You broke the news as plainly but tactfully as you could. Studying his for a reaction, you were glad to find none. No reaction was certainly better than a bad reaction.

“Ah, see, that’s where you’re wrong, dolly,” Joker cooed, shaking his head at you in disappointment. “They can’t keep me locked up in here forever.”

Your eyebrows drew together in a look of confusion; was he talking about escaping?

“Escaping Arkham is impossible-” you began to reason, but he cut you off.

“Nuh-uh, wrong again. I’ll be out of here in no time, peach.” He explained as though it was obvious. You supposed it was fairly obvious; Joker thrived in chaos, escaping this maximum security hospital for criminals was exactly the type of thing he would be able to do.

Then, a question occurred to you.

“If you’re planning on escaping, why am I here?” He had clearly already been aware that you could do little to help his situation, so why had he hired you, made you do those endless hours of pointless preparation?

Joker’s brow quirked before he answered, “I wanted to meet you, dolly. Mmm, you’re practically a celebrity in this place. I bet a lot of the loonies here would just love to be where I am right now.”

“So I’m here to stroke your ego?” You shot out without thinking, but he barely acknowledged your words.

“In fact, I’ve heard stories of what they’d do if they got their hands on you, and lemme tell ya, peach, their intentions are not good.” He finished with a laugh, as though the mental images were amusing to him. His chilling tone froze your insides; you really did not want him to go into any further detail.

On top of the fear, however, you also felt confusion. You had done all you could to help the patients of Arkham. Obviously, some of them were…seriously unwell, the man sitting before you being no exception, but everyone deserved a good lawyer, right?

“But…why?” You asked.

“Ah, you may have gotten them reduced sentences, but they’re still in here, aren’t they? They think you could have done more for them.”

Frustration knotted in your chest and you struggled to keep your face neutral; Joker’s eyes lit up as he watched you bottle your feelings.

That’s not my fault, you wanted to say. Maybe they shouldn’t have committed the violent crimes and ended up in Arkham in the first place!

“That’s…very disappointing to hear.” You said, grateful that your voice didn’t waver, though it made no difference. Joker saw through your lie easily. He cackled harshly, his eyes never leaving you.

“You think they’re ungrateful.” He stated plainly, still grinning widely. You didn’t bother disagreeing. “I agree, dolly. That’s why you’re here. I’m offering you protection.”

He leaned back in his chair, and you followed his movement by leaning forward as though magnetically attracted to him.

“You don’t even need to do any work for it, just show up here and meet with me now and then. As long as it looks like you’re working with me, you’ll be safe.” He explained.

Chewing your lip slightly, you pondered his offer. If your past clients really were out to get you, who better to protect you than a man more dangerous and powerful than any of them? Then again, maybe all of this was just entertainment for Joker, maybe no one was after you and he was just trying to rope you into spending time with him so that he could get inside your head. There was no way to know for sure, however, you did know that if it turned out you did have vengeful ex-clients that wanted you dead, you would want Joker on your side rather than against you.

And with that in mind, you agreed.

For the next few months, you met with Joker often: it started off with visits every other week, then once a week, until eventually you had begun visiting multiple times a week. With every visit, you grew more aware of the resentful eyes that followed you from the cells on your walk through Arkham, though you never were brave enough to meet their gaze.

Joker proved to be a surprisingly easy person to talk to; he listened intently to your stories and ramblings, even asking strangely specific questions that proved he was paying attention, and after several meetings you realised you had begun using your visits to Arkham to vent about your more personal problems with work and relationships, as stupid as that may seem. Joker simply made it impossible for you not to lay your thoughts bare for him, and most surprisingly, he gave genuinely good advice, once you had filtered out the more unhinged, violent suggestions.

It was during your fourth visit with Joker that he had asked you about a work event you had attended a few nights prior, and you had realised that you had never told him about the event. The realisation should have terrified you, the implication being that he had found a way to watch you without leaving his cell, but instead you felt some of the anxiety of living in Gotham melt away.

A life spent living in Gotham was a life spent living in fear, that was a well known fact in the city. The shadows in dark alleyways seemed to warp and move before your very eyes, posing a threat to your wellbeing every night. Every slight noise coming from behind you a night could be the only warning you get before an attack. It wasn’t paranoia, no, it was survival.

But, with Joker watching you from afar, you felt you could live without that fear weighing on your shoulders. The shadows on the streets went still again and you gripped your pepper spray less tightly on your travels around the city. With Joker acting as your personal guard dog from across the city, you felt safer than you ever had before.

Though, unfortunately, you knew it couldn’t last. The untouchable barrier that seemed to envelope you came crumbling down one night, as you drove home from your office after a particularly draining day of work. Heavy rain hammered against the roof of your car, almost drowning out the soft music from whichever radio station you were tuned into as you pulled up to a set of traffic lights.

Just as your car had stopped moving, the music cut off abruptly and the radio host began to speak, his voice heavy with fear.

“We have an unfortunate piece of breaking news for the citizens of Gotham. There has been a mass breakout at Arkham Hospital, over a dozen patients have escaped from the maximum security institution. We don’t know who the escaped patients are yet, more details will follow.”

You didn’t need more details to know that Joker was almost certainly among the escapees. Having just visited him the day before, you thought back to your interactions with him; he had given no indication that he was planning on escaping today beyond his usual cryptic assurances that “I’ll be seeing you again soon, dolly.”

Not that you had expected him to tell you the intricate details of his plan, of course, the clown prince of crime would never trust you like that. The strange relationship you had forged through months of regular meetings with him had been extremely one-sided, you were acutely aware of that, but you couldn’t help but feel that Joker should have at least given you some warning that the other patients in Arkham would have an opportunity to escape too, since he knew that some of them wanted you dead.

Then, the panic set in, coldness washing over you like the rain that pounded against the tarmac outside. You realised that, with Joker out of Arkham, you had lost your protection from not only the usual dangers of the city, but also this new threat of escaped criminals that potentially wished you harm. In an alleyway beside your car, the shadows began to move, seeming to advance towards where you were frozen in fear.

When a car honked its horn behind you, you started, realising that the lights had turned green, and with a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel, you tore away, driving home across the city as fast as you could.

The effect that the breakout had on you was immediate. The invisible watchful eyes that had been following your every movement for months disappeared and you felt open, vulnerable- but more than that, you felt alone. Joker’s presence had become the only reliable constant in your life, and with him gone, your mental health began to spiral rapidly.

For a month after the breakout, you barely left your apartment. You had quit your job out of fear that your presence in the office would put your coworkers at risk, opting instead to wait in your apartment for a knock on your door that would mark the arrival of whichever violent criminal had found you first.

Paranoia plagued your every waking moment, every car that drove past and every set of footsteps in the hallway caused plain terror to erupt in your chest, and you were barely able to sleep anymore. The stress you were suffering was plain in your appearance; dark bags developed under your eyes, your brow had a deep furrow permanently engraved in it, and you had grown too fearful to even shower, for fear of unknowingly ending up in a recreation of that scene from Psycho.

One night, exhaustion had finally caught up to you, and the tendrils of sleep succeeded in luring you into a much needed nap on your sofa while the news on your TV lit up the room. However, when you woke, bleary-eyed and confused, you were not in your apartment anymore.

Blind panic rose in you as you took in your unfamiliar surroundings; a dark bedroom, windows shrouded by heavy curtains, dressers and wardrobes that stood empty of any belongings, and a large bed that you were laying atop.

“No, no…” you whispered into the empty room, frantically clambering from the bed and making your way to the door. With a desperate tug on the handle, you found it was locked, and your heart sank.

“Help!” You cried, hammering your fist against the solid wood of the door until your muscles tingled with the force of the repeated impacts. “Let me out, please!”

Only silence came from the other side of the door, though you were certain that you could see movement when you pressed your cheek to the floor and peered under the door.

“Please, help me!” You cried, and to your horror, the shadow under the door retreated, disappearing from view. “No, please, help!”

Frantic and scared, you continued to bang on the door and scream for help, but still no one came. You checked the windows, and found that you were many floors up in a tower that looked over the entire city, just a few blocks from what you recognised to be Wayne Tower. Though you couldn’t escape via the windows, at least knowing where you were gave you a shred of comfort to cling to.

After what must have been hours, you were beginning to admit defeat. Your arms ached and bruises were forming on your hands from pounding relentlessly against the locked door, and your voice was hoarse from calling for help. You sat on the hardwood flooring, knees pulled close to your chest, and sobbed helplessly into your hands.

This was everything that you had been terrified of for over a month, and all you felt you could do was hope that you would soon wake up from this nightmare. The uncertainty of the entire situation was what scared you the most, not knowing who had taken you or what they planned to do with you caused your mind to fill in the blanks with the most horrifying images of injury and torture it could imagine.

When your defeated sobs died down, you finally heard footsteps approaching the door, and scrambled to your feet in hopes of catching your kidnapper off guard when they opened the door, readying your body to attack. A key slipped into the lock and with a faint click, the door began to swing open.

There Joker stood, eyeing you with great interest and that familiar warped grin. Relief flooded your body, and your knees grew weak. Before you could collapse to the floor, you launched your body at his and clung to him in a desperate embrace.

“You’re here…” you whimpered hoarsely into his chest as he patted your back with a bloody hand.

“Why so upset, peach?” He cooed, and you raised your head to look up at him through teary lashes.

“I…I woke up here, and I panicked, I thought…” Your voice tapered off when fresh tears flooded in your eyes, and Joker let out a harsh laugh.

“Aww, poor dolly, did you really think I’d let anything happen to you?” He asked with a lopsided grin. “I told you I’d keep you safe, didn’t I? And, as I’m sure you’ve learned recently, you’re only really safe when you’re wth me.” He finished in an conspiratorial whisper.

You nodded, believing his words to be true with every fibre of your being. You had never felt as safe in Gotham as you did for those months you worked alongside Joker, he made you untouchable, without him you would never be able to protect yourself from those who wished you harm.

“But…you locked me in.” You said in a small voice, expressing the only shred of doubt you felt.

“Well, I couldn’t risk you leaving.” He laughed, then his harsh expression softened slightly. “It’s not safe for you out there, dolly, not with those loonies running around.” He reasoned, and you understood. He was keeping you safe. He had promised to look after you, and he was.

“So, I can…stay with you?” You asked tentatively, and Joker’s distorted grin grew painfully wide.

“Of course you can. I’ll always keep you safe, dolly.” He crooned.

One of his arms wrapped around your waist firmly as he spoke, and he led you out of the bedroom that had just been your prison, and into his world of chaos.

#keoghan!joker x reader #keoghan!joker #barry keoghan x reader #joker x reader

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zodiakuroo · 3 years

Text

Un(holy) Trinity

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader x Shigaraki

Content: 18+ dubcon/noncon, threesome, manhandling, rough sex, corruption, degradation, humiliation, breathplay, stepcest, breeding, blasphemy and sacrilege, elements of mindbreak and god complex (?)

Word count: 4.1k

Notes: my first threesome and idk how to feel about it but here it is! If it’s bad I can blame it on the fact that I just had my wisdom teeth extracted and am currently in a world of pain :) also i’m on bedrest and incredibly bored so if anyone has requests or thirsts or just wants to chat... yeah

also if this banner is shit i’m sorry i rushed and made it on my phone cause i just rly wanted to to post

This is part 2 to my other fic Love Thy Brother which you can read here

Now the serpent was more cunning than any beast of the field which the LORD God had made. And he said to the woman, “Has God indeed said, ‘You shall not eat of every tree of the garden’?” - Genesis 3:1

Twelve days.

Twelve days since you lost your virginity.

Twelve days since you lost your virginity to your step-brother, no less.

The night that it happened, you lay awake in your bed dreading the aftermath of the horrific incident. How could you face him again? How could you face your family? How could you face God?

You were too cowardly to face the rest of your household. The Todoroki family welcomed you into their home only for you betray them by sleeping with Touya. Ever since you were little, your mother would say she had a sort of sixth sense that meant God would always tell her when you’d been up to mischief. It sounds silly but there was no explanation for how she would always catch out in lie or know things that you never told her. You feared she would take one look at you and know the sin you committed. And so you chose to make yourself scarce, taking extra shifts at work and choosing to study at the campus library rather than at home. Your siblings seemed to notice how busy you suddenly were, often remarking how they missed you around the house. That just made you feel more ashamed.

As for God, you felt like you needed to do whatever necessary to prove your faith. You wanted Him to know the extent of your shame and remorse. You were weak in spirit, making you an easy target for someone as devious as Touya. You prayed and begged for forgiveness until your knees hurt but no matter what you did, the guilt was inescapable. You realized it was because, irrespective of the regret and remorse you felt, you couldn’t deny that you enjoyed what happened. You liked the way Dabi made you feel and you hated yourself for it. But no matter how much you liked it, something like that could never happen again. As penance, you banned yourself from bringing your hands anywhere near your groin. After all that temptation is what brought you to this point in the first place. But the thread of your self-control is thin and withered so at night when you’re certain everyone is asleep, you’re humping your pillow like an animal and biting down on your lip trying to keep from moaning his name. At least you weren’t touching right?

Dabi, by some God-given miracle, made himself scarce as well. It wasn’t uncommon for the noirette to disappear for days at a time doing heaven knows what only to arrive back at home like nothing happened; so no one really questioned his absence. Perhaps he felt the same way you did and was avoiding facing you and the other Todorokis.

Yeah right.

Shame? Todoroki Touya doesn’t know the meaning of the word.

In any case, you had become used to a Dabi-less house and so lulled into a false sense of safety, slowly but surely reverting back to normal. That’s why as you make your way downstairs, prepared to go to your church, the sound of gunfire and explosions from the living room doesn’t alarm you. Probably Natsuo or Shouto playing one of their video games, you thought. But when you get to the bottom of the stairs you’re met with unmistakable dark locks. Not just him. The back of another person’s head, one with pale blue, shoulder length hair. Before you can stop yourself, you let out a gasp. Neither of them react, seemingly too focused on their game. You don’t waste any time feeling relieved, choosing instead to make a silent escape.

You could only dream of being so lucky.

“Oi!” Your step-brother calls without turning around. He hasn’t seen you, you think. If you move quickly you can still get out of this. “I know you heard me, brat. Get over here before I drag you over here.” He still doesn’t bother to turn around but the sharpness in his tone lets you know that you’d be smart to listen. You take a second to steel your nerves and make your way over to the couch, trying your best to look as intimidating as possible. You scowl at both men but they are so engrossed in their video game, they don’t even acknowledge that you’re standing right there. “Aren’t you gonna say hi? We have company.”

We?

The company in question is Shigaraki Tomura. He’s been to the house before although he’s never even so much as glanced in your direction, too busy with his phone or playing games with Dabi. Despite your hard expression you can only manage a meek “Hello Shigaraki.”

He responds by finally looking at you, with a sleazy grin, a pair of crimson eyes, surrounded by creases meet your own. “Sup.”

Beer cans litter the coffee table, one of them being turned into a makeshift ashtray while both have smouldering cigarettes perched between their lips. “You’re not supposed to smoke in the house.”

“You’re not supposed to smoke in the house.” Dabi mocks you with a nasal voice.

You simply roll your eyes, not interested in continuing this interaction any further. “Whatever. I’m leaving now.” You state with as much firmness as you can muster. You spin on your heels but are kept in place by long, slender digits wrapped around your wrist.

“Where are you off to anyways?” The game paused, both boys now looking at you.

Out of habit, you answer truthfully. “Bible study.”

Shigaraki and Dabi burst into raucous laughter.

You should have lied.

“Nah you’re gonna hang out with me and Shigaraki for a bit.”

“Dabi, I have to leave.”

“You don’t have to do anything except what I tell you and I’m telling you to sit.”

Before you can protest you’re being hauled on to the couch, squeezed between the two of them.

“Nice necklace.” Tomura snorts, hand reaching out to grab at your crucifix but you swat it away. His gaze is unnerving. It makes you wonder if- no. He promised he wouldn’t.

Just like that, their game is resumed, as if you were never there. A few rounds pass, no words exchanged between either of them, only curses muttered under their breath. “Dabi, can I please go. I’m bored.”

Wrong choice of words.

“You hear that Tomura? The princess is bored.” His fingers are still moving rapidly over his controller.

“Really now? Come on then Todoroki, let’s show her a good time. I’ve seen how she likes to have fun.”

His comment on your necklace suddenly makes sense, but you still can’t believe it. “You didn’t…” you whip your head back to look at Dabi.

”Sorry doll, you made your Nii-san so proud, I just had to show you off.” Dabi smiles shamelessly, lighting himself another cigarette.

“You’re fucking sick Touya.” Tomura says, however his tone is not one of disgust but rather of admiration.

“You promised...” Your voice breaks. You’re humiliated beyond belief.

Both of them laugh at you again, discarding their controllers. “Told you, it’s adorable how stupid she is.” Dabi remarks to his friend, as if you’re not sitting right next to them.

You try to force your way off the couch but get pulled into Dabi’s lap, one of his arms hooking around both of yours, securing them behind your back. You squirm in his arms but he stills you with a hard slap on your inner thigh. “Be good okay? Don’t embarrass me.” He nuzzles into your neck.

Shigaraki flips up your dress exposing your white lace panties. He runs his thumb up and down your clothed slit, he fabric slowly becoming even more transparent. One severe jerk to the top of your dress and the straps are torn clean off, revealing the matching bra. “Yo, Touya. I thought she was a good girl.”

Dabi peers over your shoulder to get look. “Who’s all this for babe? You screwing the preacher or something? Or were you hoping I’d do something like this?” He tugs down your bra until your breasts are spilling over the top of it.

“Dabi…” Your choke on your plea when he sinks his teeth into your neck. He bites down so hard you’re positive he’s left a mark.

“Who?”

“T-Touya-nii.” You whimper.

“Better.”

Your destroyed dress is discarded somewhere across the room and you find yourself on your hands and knees with Shigaraki kneeling on the couch in front of you and Dabi behind you.

“Go easy on her alright Tomura. It’s her first time sucking cock.” He chuckles.

Your eyes go wide. “Wait...” you mewl but neither pay you any mind.

“And you.” Dabi yanks a fistful of your hair. “No teeth. No puke. Or I’ll let my boy ream your little ass as punishment.”

“Yeah. What he said.” Shigaraki mutters, pulling his semi out of his sweatpants, rubbing his tip against your lips. His is not as scary as your step-brother’s but him staring down at you like this, makes him seem every bit as intimidating.

Pre-cum dribbles from the swollen tip. You’re not entirely sure you want that in your mouth but you’re also not sure if you have a choice so you open up hesitantly.

Dabi’s right. It is your first time doing something like this. You don’t know what you’re supposed to do but as it turns out you don’t have to do much, not with the way Shigaraki starts thrusting his quickly hardening member into your mouth.

“Move your tongue slut.” The man in front of you grunts. You do your best despite the heavy intrusion to obey his command, moving from side to side, swirling around the head when he pulls out of your mouth. He looks down at you with cruel vermillion eyes, panting as he strokes himself in front of you, spreading your saliva across his shaft before sliding deep into your mouth again.

Behind you, Dabi spreads apart your cheeks, squeezing the flesh in his calloused hands. “Remember what I said. Be good and I’ll give you a reward.” He pulls your panties to the side and lets out a whistle at the sight of your dripping slit. “She’s enjoying it. Make her take it deeper.”

You can’t possibly fathom how much deeper he can go when his head is already nudging at your tonsils. You try to swallow the saliva building up in your mouth, making your cheeks hollow out around Shigaraki’s shaft. Seems like that was the right thing to do as his hand flies to the back of your head. “Shit. Shit. So good.”

Dabi’s breath wafts over your pussy. He spreads your lips apart and you feel his hot tongue lick up the juices leaking from your hole. You squeal around Tomura’s dick. You want to pull off but his spindly fingers hold your head in place.

“Told you angel. Good little sisters get rewards.” With that he takes your clit between his lips and suckles on it gently while one of his fingers circles your entrance. Knuckle by knuckle he slides into you, making you keen. You arch your back trying to shift your hips backwards against his hand, silently urging him to find that special spot he showed you last time. He establishes a loose rhythm. Hot wet muscle and cold metal of his piercing circles the sensitive bundle of nerves, before applying suction while his fingers work you open.

The sensation is overwhelming, a form of heavenly torture and your thighs quiver barely able to hold you up while you use your last bit of mental strength to focus on suppressing your gags. That mental strength all but evaporates when the digits inside you graze that rough patch embedded in your walls. It’s so pleasurable your reflex is to run from his fingers. Luckily for Shigaraki, that means you move forward, taking him further into your mouth.

“This where you want me? This your spot, angel?” Dabi taunts you. Shigaraki holds you in place while two of your step-brother’s fingers drill your cunt, hitting that spot over and over again. Garbled moans and cries leave your mouth and reverberate around Tomura’s cock, proving to be too much for him ultimately.

“Shit Stop!” Don’t wanna come yet.” He pulls out your mouth so that a string of your drool drips down to your breasts.

“God! Touya-nii!” You sputter out.

“Still with the God shit?” He uses your hair to force you to look at him, neck twisted at an awkward, uncomfortable angle. “God ever make you feel this good?” His fingers thrust into you harder. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire.

“Ngghh-N-no –oh! Oh!” is your incoherent answer.

Dabi forces you back down, shoving you face first into the cushions. “See? Fuck him. Give up on god. Give up on everyone except your big brother cause no one else can make you feel this good.”

You’re so pathetic. The way you’re rocking yourself in unison with the motions of his hands. The way your tongue hangs out of your mouth, impeding any sort of intelligible verbal response. The way you’re mindlessly nodding along to whatever filth is coming out of Dabi’s mouth.

“C’mon Touya. Turn her around. Wanna try out that sweet pussy you’ve been bragging about.” You’re reminded that you aren’t alone. No, your brother’s best friend is right there to witness exactly how pathetic you are.

“Yeah in a minute. I’m still having my fun.” Dabi answers, face pressed against your mons before working you with his mouth once again.

“Man! Come on!” Tomura whines.

“I said in a minute. Not my fault you can’t last.”

It’s amazing how they can bicker like this right now, as if you aren’t on your hands and knees for them, gummy walls still pulsing around his fingers. However, it’s not long before Dabi’s focus is back on you taking you to the brink of orgasm. He slows his fingers, keeping you balanced on that razor thin edge. “Should I make you cum angel?” His voice is dripping with fake concern. “Dunno… what’s in it for me?”

“Anything! Touya-nii please!”

“Anything? You gonna obey me? Do whatever I say like a good little angel? You gonna worship me?” You can’t tell if he’s being serious or if he’s mocking you.

Probably the latter. And you deserve it too.

Your faith was the thing you deemed more important than anything and anyone else but Dabi, all too easily, convinced you to disregard that. Made you lose all sense and give into lust by showing you mindblowing pleasure, only magnified by your awareness of how deeply sinful this all was. That’s the extent of the power he has over you. The story of Adam and Eve is one you know forwards and backwards and yet you were so easily tempted forbidden fruit and left completely corrupted. Yeah, he’s definitely mocking you.

“Any- fuck- anything” You’re wiggling your ass, goading Dabi into finishing you off

“Cum in my mouth. Angel, give it to me” That’s the final straw. You explode around his fingers. Despite your walls, clamping around him, he manages to piston into you, hitting that squishy spot with astounding accuracy. His unyielding stimulation makes it feel as though the high won’t end. You’re not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

Eventually, it does end though, his fingers drag out against the pull of your swollen pussy. He licks you clean making sure he gets every last drop of your cum, both inside and out, on his tongue. The ball of his piercing catches onto your rim making you yelp. He soothes the sting with gentle laps of his tongue.

“Tastes so sweet angel. So sweet knowing I’m the only one to ever fuck this pretty pussy.” He snickers before adding “So far.”

“Yeah, can I fuck her now?” Tomura was turned on before but seeing the way you fell apart at the hands of your brother? His minimal patience has run out. All he can think of now is being inside you.

“You heard him babe. Turn around.” He spanks your ass. You try to turn around but thanks to your shaky legs you nearly fall off the couch. Dabi catches you before that happens and he dutifully sets you up on all fours, held up by quivering limbs. You hear heavy breathing from behind you as Shigaraki taps his head against your puffy clit while you twitch in place.

“She wants this so bad. Had no idea your Christian little sister was such a whore.” Shigaraki mutters. He holds you still as he buries himself in you, breathing becoming more erratic with every inch until his hip bones are digging into your soft flesh. He’s so deep. You feel so full. You squeeze shut your eyelids, savouring the stretch.

Calloused fingers press into your jaw, making your eyes shoot open. “Pretty angel, did you forget about me?” Dabi looms over you, making a show of spitting in his palm and using it to stroke himself. He slips his thumb into your mouth, pad pressing down on the plush pillow of your tongue. “Gonna stuff you nice ‘n full angel.” All you can do is blink up at him with teary eyes, pupils blown wide with desire.

Shigaraki begins thrusting into you, hips moving at a brutal pace. Dabi isn’t far behind him, replacing his thumb with his cock and you don’t waste time waiting for him to tell you what to do. You close your lips around his shaft, engulfing him in the wet heat of your mouth.

Unlike his friend, Dabi starts off slow. His piercings drag across your tongue and you taste metal and the salt of his pre-cum. It takes some time for you to get used to taking him in your mouth, the jewellery an added obstacle.

You feel so full.

Shigaraki is bottoming out with every thrust, it’s so lewd the way it makes you squelch around him. Dabi’s shaft is rubbing your throat raw and still, you make an effort to take him deeper. He keeps one hand on the back of your head while he fucks you mouth.

He looks so ethereal, so euphoric, letting out little moans and whispered expletives. The sounds he makes are divine, so heavily contrasted by everything you know about him. It leaves you star struck. He recognizes the adoration in your eyes and responds in kind with a cocky smirk. He remembers how you looked at him when you first met. Disdain and judgment. Now you look at him like he’s your only salvation.

It’s sad actually. How you’re so desperate for someone to tell you how to live. And what a sweet, adoring little follower you are. Wasted on religion if you ask him. So soft and pliant, perfect for your big brother to mould and corrupt into his personal fuckangel.

“Angel, Nii-san’s gonna fill you up. And you’re gonna take it yeah?”

Your whole life you aspired to this holy standard of perfection in the hopes of escaping eternal damnation. But you’re beyond absolution now.

“All of it down your throat.”

It’s okay though.

If heaven doesn’t feel like this, you’re not sure it’s worth all the effort to get there.

He holds your necklace behind you like a leash, twisting it around his fingers. Between the way he’s basically strangling you and the way your swallowing muscles contract around his cock means that you’re not getting much air into your lungs. Your head is spinning, from being both oxygen deprived and cock drunk.

“Your God doesn’t want you anymore.” The clasp snaps and he dangles the charm in front of your face. The mould of Christ nailed to the cross taunts you. What was once a symbol of divine love and God’s boundless forgiveness and sacrifice is just a reminder of how far you’ve fallen into depravity, creaming around Shigaraki’s cock as he ruins your cunt while your Nii-san claims your throat “You’re filthy.” Touya sneers at you as he holds himself in your throat, watching you cry and choke around him. “Dirty fuckin angel.” He grunts as he floods your mouth with the taste of his cum. It’s not exactly pleasant but you try to swallow it all down. There’s just so much. That means he’s pleased with you right? You want him to be pleased. Good girls get rewards he said

“It’s okay.” He muses as he pulls out of your mouth. “You have me. I’m better than God and I Iove you when you’re nasty like this.” He empathizes his point by dragging his wet, softening cock across your face. “Nii-sans perfect little angel.”

It’s so pitiful how the small praise makes your heart bloom and makes your hole flutter.

You’re coughing up Touya’s cum while your body shakes with Shigaraki’s thrusts.

“What about me hm? I’m fucking you. What? You don’t like it?” Tomura’s going harder now, determined to get his fair share of your attention.

“Shig-Shigaraki – shit. Slow down!”

You’re ignored by both of them once again. If anything, Shigaraki starts fucking you harder

.”Yo’ dustpot. You better pull out. That hole still belongs to me.”

The warning falls on deaf ears, Tomura is too far gone. “So warm, she’s squeezin’ me. Fuck. Fuck.’’ No thoughts, just your tight cunt.

“Gonna do whatever I tell you?” Dabi’s talking to you now, cerulean eyes boring into yours.

You nod still staring at him with absolute devotion.

“Touya-nii’s will be done? Huh? Has a nice ring to it.”

When you don’t respond he grabs you by your cheeks forming an open mouthed pout. “Say it.”

“Touya-nii’shhh will be done.” The words come out distorted but he’s satisfied

“Oh yeah? Then be good angel slut and come on his cock for me.”

You’re pushed over the edge, coming for the second time. Your walls clamp down around him as you sob out both their names in the form of incoherent babbling. It hits you as hard as the first one. You’re so caught up in your high you barely register the vice grip on your hips, the frantic humping against your ass. “Tight. Fuckin tight! Gotta breed! Breed this fucking hole.”

His hot, sticky cum floods your walls with, your throbbing cunt milking him for everything he’s got. He ruts against you a couple more times before removing himself completely.

You hear the familiar click of a camera. He’s sorry (not really) but the sight of your fucked out hole leaking globs of your cream and his cum was too hot for Shigaraki to not add to his spankbank.

“Thanks for that little sis.” Dabi is resting on the couch, head thrown back smoking a cigarette.

“Yeah thanks sweetness.” Both men, tuck themselves back into their pants

Everything feels so surreal. You cautiously move you hand between your thighs. Feeling your sore abused cunt in an attempt to grasp the reality of what happened.

Wait a minute.

It’s too much, that too sticky to be just your arousal down there. The more you squeeze, contracting your pelvic floor, the more it seems to seep out of you.

“You… You came inside.” You murmur as your eyes well up with tears. Whatever daze you were in seems to be broken by this revelation. Instead it’s replaced by fear of what the consequences of this might be.

Dabi smacks his friend upside the head. “You fuckin’ dumbass. I told you not to.”

Judging by his grin, Shigaraki doesn’t register the insult. He’s too busy basking in the afterglow. “Aw, don’t cry babe. You were gripping me so tight, I thought you wanted it. ‘S’okay, your Nii-san will get you a plan B”

“Fuck no. That’s your jizz inside her.” He scowls, eyes focused on the cum that’s leaking out of your spent pussy.

“C’mon Dabi don’t be like that. I’m broke right now.” Shigaraki pleads.

Touya huffs and rolls his eyes. “You can get yourself a morning after pill right? Tomura will pay you back.”

“Yeah babe. I promise.” He gives you a dopey smile.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out he’s lying. Yeah, you know better now. You just nod as you pull up your panties, cringing at the sticky, wet sensation against your cunt.

“Me and Tomura are heading out. Make sure you clean all this up before anyone gets home.”

“B-but Touya-nii-“ you snivel.

“No buts. Clean up or you won’t be sitting comfy for a week. Are we clear?”

“Yes Touya-nii.” You reply defeated.

“And do it properly. Fuyumi has 3 brothers, she knows what a cumstain looks like and I don’t wanna have to do any explaining to her.”

You only nod, trying (and failing) to blink away tears.

Dabi rewards you with a chaste kiss to your cheek. “Best little sister in the world.” And he leaves you with that.

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bnhaisliterallymylife · 3 years

Text

Creatures of the Forest

I haven’t written anything on here in months, and to be honest I should be working on my novel rather than this. But, I’m a whore for EraserMic and can’t resist the temptation. Plus, I have a weakness for Monster AU’s, so I’m going to have fun with this.

Also heads up, I did not proofread, and story details might be a little muddy. I am tired and horny, and I will now go to bed.

Word Count: 5,242 (Kill me.)

Pairing(s): Jinn!Shouta x Female Reader x Siren!Hizashi

Warnings: 18+, dub-con, fingering, double-penetration, anal sex, vaginal sex, creampie, and probably more filth.

Premise: You just wanted to have some time yourself, and considering how cheap the cabin was you couldn’t pass up the chance at a countryside getaway. And they couldn’t pass up a chance of you.

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The cabin is not what you expected, but nonetheless you just felt glad at the chance to get away from the city for awhile. Your job has been stressing you out for months, and your family is no better. You booked out this one bedroom wood cabin from the 1970s for the next two weeks, a vacation away from technology and far, far away from the thoughts that kept you from yourself.

When you first arrived you checked out the whole cabin only to find cobwebs and dust covering nearly every surface, and the appliances were horrifically outdated. So, you decided to spend your time cleaning it up a little so you didn’t feel like a spider was going to crawl into your mouth in the middle of the night. Good thing, too, because you managed to find a fiddleback in its nest just under the bed. Now, you might hate spiders, but you’re by no means a killer.

“Work with me here, otherwise one of us is gonna get hurt.” You carefully manage to put a plastic cup over the agitated spider, and using a piece of paper you’re able to carefully take it outside. You don’t want to leave it near the cabin, and you don’t want to leave it out in the open field - what if a bird got to it? You have no choice but to trek out past the lovely field of wildflowers to the dark forest that lay just beyond it.

The trees tower over you as the sun begins to set in the distance. You’re not that far away from the cabin, but hearing the branches rustle against each other as the wind blows a warm summer breeze across your skin sends goosebumps over your body. It would be best to quickly release the spider and get out of there.

You go over to the nearest tree at the very edge of the forest and take the cup away from the paper. There the spider sits, rearing back as a threat, but its dramatics do nothing to you.

“You’re not so scary out in the open, are you?”

“He could probably say the same to you.”

You drop the paper and cup, whipping your head around to find the source of the melodic voice that had spoken to you, but no one is there.

“Over here, little bird.”

Your gaze falls back towards the forest, and just a few feet in front of you is a man with long, golden blonde hair that cascades down to his waist. He’s tall, probably six feet if you had to guess, and he’s wearing a tank top and jean shorts that show off his toned body almost too well. Then there’s his eyes, a green so bright that it contrasts the darkness of the forest.

“What are you doing here?” This land is supposed to be private, or at least that’s what the listing said.

“Sorry! I forget my manners sometimes. I’m one of the owners, you’re Y/N right?” Oh, one of the owners! You remember now, the listing mentioned that the owners of the property lived elsewhere on the land and might come by to check in on things.

“Yeah. You know, the cabin could have used a cleaning. When’s the last time you had anyone else here?”

“Somethin’ like five or so years. You like it though?”

“It’s... Cozy.” The sun seems to be disappearing much faster now. “Minus the spider.”

“Unfortunately we can’t do much about nature, little bird.” You want to ask him not to call you that, but you don’t want to be rude. The cabin is pretty cheap and you’d hate to cut this trip short because of a nickname. “But, if ya want my husband can come spray the cabin for pests tomorrow. I could bring by some food, too.”

“Oh, no thanks. I think it was just the one anyways.” The point of this whole trip is for you to get some alone time, and inviting this admittedly alluring man and his husband over would go against that.

“If you’re sure...” He trails off, glancing towards the spider that is now climbing quickly up the side of the tree. “If you do change your mind though, let us know! We don’t like pests around here, either.” You chuckle a little at that, but by now you’re already starting to back away from the forest to head back towards the cabin.

“I’ll keep that in mind, sir!” You call back, now intent on getting across this field as quickly as possible. But, his next words feel like they’re a whisper in your ear, making you jerk your head back towards the forest. My name is Hizashi, little bird.

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After unpacking that night you found yourself exhausted from the long travel to the cabin. After checking that all of the windows and doors were locked securely, you went to bed thinking about the blonde in the woods and the plans that you had for the next day. Your eyes closed with those thoughts mingling together as you fell into a seemingly deep sleep, unaware of the eyes that watched you from just outside of the bedroom window.

“She’s even better than I imagined...”

“You shouldn’t have gone to her today, it’s too soon.”

“If we wait too long then we’ll lose our chance! Let’s take her now, she wants to be far away, so we’ll take her far away.”

“We need time, and permission.”

“Well, I know how to get one of those things.”

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As the sun peeks through the bedroom window you attempt, and fail to stifle a groan. It might have been a good idea to bring curtains with you, but you suppose that it’s part of the woodsy experience. You sit up and stretch your arms high above your head, unaware of the creature slithering across the floor until you put your feet down and hear a hiss. Immediately you pull your feet back onto the bed with a high-pitched scream. The rattlesnake coils itself up and sets its eyes directly on you, only a few feet away from the bed.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.” You mutter to yourself as you reach for your cellphone on the side table. Unfortunately for you, the snake leaps forward and takes a snap towards your arm, eliciting another screech from you and making you back yourself against the far corner of the bed. “Go to the woods, you thought, it’ll be a great experience!” You mock yourself, now looking for anything nearby that you could use as a weapon. You could toss the blanket over it and try to make a run for it, but what you miss or what if it still managed to get you?

“Y/N!” You hear Hizashi just outside the cabin.

“We heard a scream, is everything alright!?” Another voice joins him, likely his husband.

“N-No! There’s a snake in here!” You glance towards the window to see it cracked open. Didn’t you lock it last night? “I can’t get past it!” You hear some banging at the front door, but shouldn’t they have a key? Or maybe they didn’t want to just walk in? “The window to the room is open! Hurry!” How close is the nearest hospital if you get bit? How long would it take you to die?

When you see two figures come around to the bedroom window you feel like you could weep in relief, but they hesitate.

“Is it okay for us to come in? How close is the snake?” The dark-haired man asks, and in your panic you don’t even question the absurdity of the first question.

“I-It’s close to me, you can come in. Be careful though.” You’re much quieter now, thinking that maybe your yelling only made the creature on your floor angrier. Hizashi’s husband only then pushes the window further open, sticking one leg inside to stabilize himself before coming all the way in. The snake is too focused on you to notice the new intruder.

“Y/N, my name is Shouta, and I need you to follow my instructions. Can you do that for me?” His voice is low and smooth, it calms you instantly.

“O-Okay.”

“Good girl. Pick up the blanket from your bed very slowly, try not to make any sudden movements - he’s more scared of you than you are of him.” You highly doubt that, but nonetheless you lean down very slowly while Shouta sneaks around the back of the snake to grab the blanket. “Very good girl.” Your face flushes at the almost sensual compliment. “Now, throw it onto the snake. Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe.” His reassurance calls you to action, tossing the thin blanket onto the snake. It hisses and wildly whips around under the blanket until Shouta manages to scoop up the blanket like a bag and tie it off. Just like that, your ordeal is over.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay now Y/N, Shou’s got the big bad snake.” Hizashi is suddenly by your side in an instant. When did he come through the window? His hand is on yours as he gently guides your shaky body off of the bed.

“I don’t even know how that thing got in, I-I locked every door and window last night! I double checked everything, I cleaned yesterday, I just don’t...” Why was the window open? Did she maybe get up last night and open it? It did get pretty hot last night... Quite suddenly, you’re extremely aware of how bare you feel in your cute light blue cotton shorts and black sports bra. You hadn’t even thought of it during your state of panic.

“I’m going to take this guy outside and let him go. Hizashi brought a dish over for you to try, if you want the company.” The two of them don’t seem to mind your half-dressed state, but you do.

“Sure, um, do you mind stepping out for a few minutes though.” You release Hizashi’s hand and grab the sheet from the bed to cover yourself. They understand pretty quickly, but both men didn’t mind it. If anything they want to see more of your soft, beautiful skin.

“Sorry ‘bout that beautiful! We’ll give ya some space!” With that, both men are leaving your presence and you feel like you can breathe a sigh of relief. What just happened? It feels like it all happened at once, but you can’t say that you aren’t relieved by their excellent timing. You decide to slip on some normal jean shorts and a faded AC/DC tee-shirt you got a few years back.

When you step out of the bedroom you can see Hizashi already bustling around the kitchen, humming in a way that made you feel warm little fuzzies on the inside. Shouta is sitting at the dining room table with his dark eyes shut. You take a moment to silently admire Hizashi’s husband. He’s more filled out than the lithe blonde, and while his black wavy hair is long, it’s only a few inches past his shoulders. And then she notices the deep scar just under his right eye.

“See something you like?” Your face once again turns red when you realize his eyes have opened and he’s looking directly at you.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare-”

“It’s alright. It’s the scar, right?” When he says this, Hizashi stops his cooking momentarily to look back at you and his husband.

“Oh, no! I don’t mind scars, scars can be sexy!” Why did you have to say that? An amused smirk slides across Shouta’s lips when you say this. Hizashi, meanwhile, lets out a chuckle that makes the air around you feel too light.

“Well of course scars are sexy! Why don’t you tell little bird how you got that scar?” As he says this you come to sit at the table. You may as well indulge them, they did come to your rescue after all.

“It’s not that interesting.” Shouta waves it off, but he can tell that you’re interested. “Unless you want to hear about it?”

“It’s not like I have anything else to do.” You shrug, and with that you get to spend the rest of your morning with the two men.

Apparently, Shouta had a run in with a man trespassing on the land and got a knife pulled on him. He said it wasn’t that interesting, but the way he told it captivated your interest. The guy was probably a hunter, or a thief, but they never found out. The local deputy came to get the guy after the confrontation, and that was that. They continued to talk with you long after breakfast had finished and you all had eaten, asking you about your interests, your passions, the reason why you came out here. You don’t know why, but when they ask you these questions you answer without a second thought. You think that it’s because no one has ever bothered to listen to you for this long, and the couple makes you feel as if you belong here, like you’re a person who deserves to be cherished. Originally you came here to be alone, but when you’re with them you feel something that you never felt back home. You just can’t quite describe it. Hours pass, and it’s well past noon when the two men decide to take their leave.

“If you see anymore snakes-”

“-Or if you just want our company-”

“-just give us a call on the landline.” Shouta finishes for the two of them as they walk out the front door.

“Sure thing, thanks again. I don’t know what I would have done if you two hadn’t come over.”

“Probably woulda sat there, desperately waiting for your prince charming to come save you. Good thing you already have two of us.” Hizashi’s joke manages to get a little giggle out of you.

“You’re cheesy.” Shouta grumbles, though you could see a small smile on his face as well. “Come on, let’s leave Y/N alone.” You watch the two of them walk not down the dirt road that you drove on to get here, but back through the forest that encircles the cabin.

Once the couple is gone, it’s like you snap back to reality. This morning was crazy, and you got lucky, but you swore that you locked that window shut last night. Deciding that perhaps it was better to enjoy the rest of your day than continue to obsess over the snake incident, you take a sketch book and go out back to draw the pretty flowers in the field.

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The night feels even hotter than the day, making it near impossible for you to cover up in any way. Long ago you stripped yourself bare, sprawling yourself on top of the covers with a sheen of sweat covering your body. If you didn’t feel the cool air struggling to reach you from the vents, then you would almost think the AC is broken. Currently, you’re half asleep in an almost dreamlike state. That’s when you hear a soft whisper.

“What is your wish?”

You turn on your side, letting out unintelligible mumbles. A more soothing, honeyed voice joins the first.

“What do you desire, little bird?”

That voice sends tingles all through your body, setting every nerve on fire. It compels you to answer.

“I want...” You mumbles, eyes half open and glazed over as you give your answer. “I want... Release...” You want to feel all of your stresses disappear as if they never existed.

“I’ll give you release, kitten.”

The voice no longer sounds far away, which snaps you out of that sleepy haze and once again makes you aware of your surroundings.Your eyes adjust to the darkness to find yourself no longer in the cabin, but surrounded by looming vertical objects... Trees?

“Shhh, don’t panic, we’re here.” There’s that voice again, the one that makes orgasmic waves pulse through your eardrums. It soothes any worries that you currently have as two hands come up to your shoulders and gently lay you onto the soft ground.

They prepared this place just for you. The cabin had been a front from the very beginning, a way to lure you away from bustling city life so they could give you what you wanted - release. You didn’t know it, but you had met Shouta months before this at a little bakery just down the street from your work. You had been complaining on the phone about your new boss and how stressed you were because of your obligations, and you wished that someone would take you away from your own life. Unknowingly, you had called upon the closest Jinn in the area, and he had already taken notice of you.

“Be gentle with her, it could be her first time.”

“It’s definitely not. But don’t worry, I took care of the ex months ago.”

You can vaguely hear the conversation of the two men looming over you, but you do not react. On the inside you feel fear, vulnerability, and confusion. You can’t quite make out the figures above you, but you recognize the voices; your hosts, Shouta and Hizashi. You just can’t comprehend why they are doing this. Earlier today they were fine, sure they were getting a little too close and asking too many questions, but you wouldn’t say they invaded your space... Or did they?

“Took care of?”

“Nothing like that, he wished for a job in France, so I got him the job in France... But, he might not like that job very much.” You can hear the smirk in his voice even if you can’t see it. “It was necessary.”

“Agreed.” The hands that had pushed you back onto the pillowy moss are now moving down your sides, just barely brushing over the sides of your breasts. You barely register the sigh of pleasure that leaves your lips at the tantalizing contact.

“Zashi...”

“What? Isn’t this what we wanted?”

“We need permission.”

“We have permission! You heard the wish!”

“It was vague. I want details.” Suddenly, you can feel another set of hands gently massaging your bare feet, then moving up your smooth legs to part them at the thighs. The exposure makes you whimper, though there’s little you can do beyond that. “Release your influence, Hizashi.”

“But if we do that-”

“Release her. I want to hear her.” With what sounds like a huff of frustration from the blonde, that hazy feeling that had come over you suddenly dissipates. Your vision becomes more clear along with the two entities above you.

Hizashi has moves your arms so they’re now pinned above your head, preventing you from covering your bare breasts from their view. Shouta still has your legs spread on either side of you, but he doesn’t move any further. You meet his eyes, eyes that had been onyx earlier in the day but now glow an eerie shade of red.

“Months ago you wished to be taken away from your life. Do you remember that, Y/N?” You can’t focus on Shouta’s voice, all you can focus on is your current situation. Tings sting the edges of your eyes, and your throat starts to close up.

“P-Please...”

“She’s not going to respond like this, Shou.”

“She will, be patient. Y/N, I need you to look at me.” His voice is stern. Even though you want to look away, you once again meet his gaze. “What do you wish for now?”

“Let m-me go!” That’s your first thought, but then you feel one of Shouta’s hands creeping further up your thigh, his fingers just barely brushing over your outer lips.

“Do you mean that?” You nod your head frantically, and unbeknownst to you Shouta’s partner is giving him an incredulous look. “So, you want to go back to that stressful life in the city? You want your asshole boss to walk all over you, making you feel like you’re the scum of the earth? You want your parents to treat you like you mean nothing?” He emphasizes the final word with a hiss, and this seems to get to you. Your sniffling briefly ceases, though you’re still tugging against the tight hold of both of the men as if you could escape.

“What are you?”

“A Jinn, kitten. Do you know what a Jinn is?” You nod you head - you’re aware of the mythology behind beings like him, but how does he exist? They’re fictional! “Months ago I heard your desperate plea, and ever since then I’ve been eager to give you want you want... For a price.” His thumb brushes over your clit briefly, making your body stiffen.

“F-For sex?”

“For partnership. To be with me, to be with Hizashi, to be with both of us. It does get lonely out here.”

“And I can’t leave.” Hizashi pipes in with a sad smile. “I’m a Siren tied permanently to this forest. Remember the story about the man with a knife? He was going to hurt this place, so we had no choice. Once this place is gone, so am I.” His thumbs rub soothing circles into your skin.

“You don’t need me though, I don’t need your wishes or whatever! I want to...” You wish that you could say that you want to go home, but do you? Despite your current circumstances, you found yourself considering this deal.

“If you’re here, then Hizashi won’t be alone. I can go out for supplies without worrying about him.”

“And if you’re here, you won’t have to deal with those pesky worries you had before little bird. You get to have fun, be free, be loved by us.” But why you? Why did they want to take you?

“Because you’re special, Y/N. Because out of everyone in that city, you were the one who wanted to escape the most, who cared but wasn’t cared for. You deserve us.” Shouta drives his point home here, but he hopes that it will be enough. After all, he would prefer your consent, but it’s not entirely needed here.

“Okay.” You whisper. After all, what’s really waiting for you back home? Misery and paperwork, that’s what.

“Okay what?”

“You need to be more specific, Y/N.” You take a deep, shuddering breath before you speak again.

“I-I want release, I don’t want to go home anymore.”

“And in exchange?” Shouta pushes, his eyes glowing as he stares into yours.

“In e-exchange, I’ll stay here. I’ll be your... Partner.”

That seems to be all that they need from you, because in the next moment the two men above you are no longer clothed. You squeak and shut your eyes - it’s not the first time you’ve seen a naked man, but usually they don’t just pop out in front of you like that!

“You’re little noises are so cute.” Hizashi uses one of his knees to keep your wrists pinned above your head so his hands could get to work. While your eyes are still closed you feel his soft fingers run across your neck and past your collarbone, headed straight for your breasts. But just before they can get there, a pair of lips smash to yours. Shouta’s tongue flicks out at your bottom lip, beckoning you to allow him inside. Just at that moment, Hizashi’s fingers find your pert nipples, giving each of them a tiny pinch. This causes you to moan, and Shouta takes the chance to slide his tongue into your mouth to get a taste.

You can feel Shouta’s thick erection against your cunt, twitching in anticipation. It has been awhile since you’ve had another man, and you have to admit that the thought of being railed by these very good looking men wasn’t so bad. You start to becoming lightheaded from the kiss and constant ministrations of your sensitive nipples when Shouta finally pulls away from the kiss to let you breathe.

“Good girl.” He brings his thumb up to wipe away some of the saliva from around your lips. “We’ll put this to more use later. For now, I want to see you cum.” In what feels like two seconds Shouta is suddenly between your thighs, throwing your legs over his shoulders so he could get a good view of your waiting, wet pussy. He blows cool air over your sensitive little nub, making it quiver and throb in anticipation. Meanwhile, Hizashi finally leans down to suck one of your nipples into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the little bug while his fingers continue to tug and pinch the other. Your head sits in the blonde’s lap, his cock mere inches away from your face.

“Do you want to suck me, little bird?” As he says this in that low, melodic voice of his, Shouta flicks his tongue over your clit, making your writhe under them.

“Careful, she almost came.”

“Is my voice too much for you?” You can only pant in response, letting out a soft moan when Shouta flicks his tongue over your little nub again.

“Answer him, or we’ll make this last.”

“Y-Yes... It’s... I makes me feel good.” His voice makes you feel like you could orgasm in seconds.

“And do you want to suck daddy’s cock?” The way he words it makes you whine, but you nonetheless give him an answer.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes... Daddy.” The instant that you finish that sentence, Shouta’s mouth latches onto your clit, sucking on it so harshly that you can feel your head spin. Hizashi repositions himself so he’s kneeling right over your face, running his fingers through your hair as he guides your lips to his tip. You take his tip into your mouth and suck it softly, eliciting a groan from the man that gets sent straight to your groin.

“Fuck, just her lips are almost enough... Come on honey, you can take me deeper.” And you do, you try to relax your throat so you can take Hizashi’s cock deeper into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his base, all while Hizashi has his hands continually playing with your nipples, never letting up.

Shouta continues his work between your legs, nipping softly at your clit while bringing a finger to your entrance. He gently pushes it inside of you, giving it a few thrusts before adding a second. You adjust tremendously well. He can already feel your wet cavern clenching tightly around his fingers as he curls his digits upwards. To this you give him a sweet little cry, which only results in Shouta setting a relentless pace. He pounds those fingers into you, hitting your sensitive spot with such precision that you can hardly focus on the cock in your mouth all while sucking and swirling his expert tongue over your swollen clit until you finally clench tightly around his fingers and cry out with your first orgasm of the evening.

Hizashi slows down the thrusts into your mouth as Shouta pulls away from between your legs, slowly pulling himself out as well. For a moment you’re confused, wondering why they could pull away when they haven’t found relief yet, only to be suddenly pulled forward so you’re hovering right over Shouta’s thick length. Hizashi comes up behind you, pressing soft kisses and nipples to the soft spot on your neck - he’s going to leave plenty of marks here later.

“Do you think you can take both of us?” Shouta asks, momentarily confused you until you realize what he means.

“I’ve never done it, um, there before.”

“We can make it easy, if you let us. It’ll only feel good.” Hizashi assures you, rubbing comforting circles into your thighs.

“We want to make you feel good.” Shouta adds, both hesitating until they see you nod your head once again.

“Okay.” You still feel nervous, but you want to feel good, and so far it feels really good.

Shouta helps your ease yourself onto his dick, pressing gently into your waiting pussy while giving your already oversensitive clit little flicks from his thumb. Once he has settled deep within you, you feel Hizashi spread your ass cheeks and press a finger into you. Your face burns from slight embarrassment, but admittedly as he begins to move the saliva covered digit in and out of you, you find yourself enjoying it. You try to move whilst on top of Shouta, but he grabs your hips to keep you still.

“Wait.” He commands, smirking at your impatient whine. That whine then turns into a gasp as you feel a second finger being pressed into your rear hole, nibbling on your bottom lip as an uncomfortable burning sensation takes place of the previous pleasure.

“Relax for me, little bird.” Hizashi whispers, and like his words work magic you instantly relax and that burning sensation goes away. He pumps those a few times while your juices continue to drench Shouta’s cock, then they’re gone, replaced instead by Hizashi’s pulsating member. “Stay relaxed, and take a few breaths.” Hizashi murmurs, placing a few soft kisses to your neck as he pushes himself into you.

At first you feel that uncomfortable burning sensation once again, but then that changes to a fullness that gives you pleasure. You huff in lust as Hizashi pushes the full of his length into you, both men temporarily remaining still while you adjust. Your back is pressed flush against Hizashi’s chest, so you can feel his heartbeat rhythmically hammering against you while they both wait.

“Please...”

“Please what?” Shouta once again brushes his thumb over your swollen clit, making you whimper.

“Please, make me yours.”

As if you said the magic words, both men suddenly begin to move within you. Shouta keeps your hips stilled while rolling his own to thrust up into you, meanwhile Hizashi wraps one arm around your waist to grope your breast. You feel his teeth graze against your shoulder with enough pressure to bruise, but you don’t care, you’re in a euphoric state right now.

Shouta keeps your clit busy with his thumb while the both of them pick up their paces, the sound of sweaty skin slapping together resonating throughout the dense forest. You can feel your next orgasm already building as the two of them continue at their brutal pace, the feeling of your holes clenching around them driving them absolutely wild with lust - they’re not going to last much longer, either.

“Fuck - we love you, kitten.”

“Yesss, we love you so much little bird.” Hizashi grunts into your ear, and while you can’t say it yet, you’re sure that it won’t take but a few months before you’re saying the same words back.

All it takes is one well timed thrust against your g-spot and another flick to your clit before you’re clamping down on both men and letting out a long, strangled moan with your second orgasm. Shouta follows quickly behind you along with Hizashi, both men pressing deep within you before they spill their seeds. They stay inside of you even afterwards, letting you back in your afterglow as they both praise you, pressing kisses over your skin and telling you how great you did for them.

It’s too late for you to turn back now. You’ve made the deal, and you sealed it the second that you said yes.

#erasermic x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #hizashi yamada x reader #smut #monster au #why do i do this to myself #i really need to get on that novel #i could have done so much work by now DX #erasermic x fem!reader

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