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solar-wing · 2 days

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⚣ Take Care Of Me 🪢

⚣🪢 Summary → As a side effect of Jason being healed and resurrected in the Lazarus pits, his ruts have grown more intense. He's resigned to suffering through them alone until he realizes the longer he goes without knotting an Omega, the stronger they will get. So he decides to reach out to Y/N...

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Jason could be such an irresponsible, stubborn little shit sometimes.

“Y/N, chill out. I don’t need you to always take care of me,” Jason grumbled as the smaller male forced him to sit on the toilet in his bathroom while he patched and mended his wounds.

“Apparently, you do doofus, since you always end up showing up on my balcony a bloody and bruised mess. I swear, Jason, one of these days you’re going to get yourself killed if you don’t just start learning to ask for help,” Y/N scolded as he applied an anesthetic to a nasty blade wound on the vigilante’s arm. Any deeper and Jason wouldn’t have been lucky enough to make it to Y/N’s before he passed out from blood loss.

“Been there, done that sweetheart,” Jason smirked.

Y/N rolled his eyes at him while wrapping the gauze and bandage around his admittedly large bicep, “You’re insufferable.”

“But, you still love me,” Jason confidently stated, standing to his feet after Y/N put on the last bandage.

“Regretfully,” Y/N retorted as he packed away his medical supplies. Ever since that first night he and Jason met, the Omega kept his med kit stocked, even splurging on a few extra items he would need for certain wounds that only a trip to the ER would be able to treat.

Y/N's sight turned to the muscular Alpha standing beside him, watching from the corner of his eyes as he checked his wounds and grabbed his shirt and gear from the ground. Even though they were only friends, the Omega couldn’t deny the attraction he felt towards the vigilante.

He didn’t know if it was romantic or just sexual, but it was something. But, seeing the life Jason had and his choice of career, he decided it’d be better if he didn’t indulge himself in that, no matter how badly he wanted to.

They’d met a couple of years prior when Y/N had first moved to Gotham. Since he was new to the city, he didn’t understand the dos and don’ts and would consistently go for walks late at night when most people would usually be inside by then with the doors and windows locked.

As one can imagine, this eventually led him to trouble when one random night, he got ambushed by some thugs. At first, they were going to just mug him, but when they realized he was an Omega, their intentions slightly changed with a very undesirable end for Y/N.

Thankfully, an angel came to his rescue in the form of the famous vigilante, Red Hood. He’d knocked out the two Alphas cornering the Omega against the wall and scaring off the one Beta before coming over to help the Omega off the ground.

Of course, there was the cliché moment where the rescued victim thanks their savior gleefully and they slowly glance at each other, feeling a deep connection before they fall in love and swoop off into the night. Well, at least it could’ve gone like that.

As Red Hood was checking to make sure the Omega was okay and escorting him out the alleyway, they both missed one of the other Alphas getting back to their feet and grabbing their weapon off the ground before charging at the vigilante. He was able to fight him off and knock him out, but not before taking some pretty nasty cuts that would’ve been lethal had he not reacted quickly.

When Y/N realized how badly he was injured, he helped him back to his apartment where he thankfully had barely enough supplies in his first-aid kit to stop the initial bleeding and patch him up enough. The Omega suggested taking him to the hospital, but Red Hood turned it down.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I got some people who’ll take good care of me. But, you be careful out there. No more late-night walks in this city, got it?”

After that night, Y/N didn’t see Red Hood for some time until a few weeks later when he showed up on his balcony again, bruised and battered and in dire need of some medical aid. Why he didn’t go to his ‘people’ but rather going to a random Omega he’d only met some weeks prior was beyond him, but he didn’t complain.

Eventually, with enough visits, they went from random strangers to somewhat trusted acquaintances, until eventually, they were seeing each other so much, a lot of the time the vigilante not needing any medical attention, just checking in on the Omega that they became friends.

Now, just a couple of years later, Y/N knew not just Red Hood, but the man behind the hood and under the skin-tight gear which he did not ogle regularly. He didn’t! Stop looking at him like that!

“Ah, you don’t mean that,” Jason said while putting his shirt back on.

He turned to the Omega who’d just put away his med kit back under the sink before looking at him and placing his hands against the sink, leaning back for support.

“You can’t tell me what I mean,” Y/N replied.

“Yes, I can. You always say I'm insufferable, but never mean it. Otherwise, you wouldn't be so kind to let me into your apartment every time I need your delicate touch," Jason teased.

And for whatever reason, Jason saying that sparked a bit of arousal in Y/N's stomach, but he chose to ignore it.

"Whatever," Y/N replied with an eye roll while pressing himself against the sink as he noticed the sudden closeness between him and Jason, not even noticing that the Alpha had got closer, almost boxing him against the sink, "Um, sir? Why are you so close? This bathroom is already small enough, and you're not helping by taking up so much space here."

Y/N didn't even want to turn around and look in the mirror, knowing that Jason's towering and bulky frame shown in the mirror compared to his smaller and softer one would cause very sinful thoughts in his mind. Not that he hadn't had these thoughts before.

"I'm not taking up any more space than you are, shorty," Jason retorted.

"That's a bold-faced lie. We both know I'm a perfectly respectable height. You're just giant," Y/N replied.

Jason chuckled, his laugh making the Omega's body feel all tingly and warm. It didn't help that the sound seemed to resonate from the Alpha's chest, the vibrations from his laugh reaching Y/N's own, causing the smaller male to bite his bottom lip.

"Maybe there'd be more room if you got rid of the ridiculous number of lotions and creams you have in here," Jason spoke lowly, subtly getting closer to the Omega while leaning more into his space.

"You leave me and my lotions alone. Don't get mad at me because I don't allow myself to be ashy, which speaking of it, you probably need some help with. Then again, that could just be your caucasianess," Y/N said, gesturing a hand over Jason's body where his pale and ivory skin was exposed.

Jason chuckled, "Why do you always have to go and attack my skin color?"

"Because, unlike you, I'm not an enemy of the sun," Y/N replied.

"Okay, just because I lack melanin doesn't make you better than me."

"Hmm, I think it does," Y/N joked.

"You're an asshole."

"But, you still love me," Y/N replied, mocking Jason's earlier words.

Y/N noticed again the space becoming much smaller between him and the Alpha, and it was not doing much to help quell the growing arousal he was already feeling in his body. He and Jason already had a platonic bond, since Jason would constantly scent mark him on his wrists and leave clothes for the Omega to wear whenever he knew the smaller male was going out into the city by himself.

The gesture was appreciated, and Y/N was flattered that the vigilante was concerned for his well-being, but having his clothes filled with the Alpha's scent wasn't helping his already developing feelings for the Alpha.

"You're still getting closer," Y/N breathed.

"And you're still not stopping me," Jason replied, his voice a low and husky rumble, making the Omega's toes curl in his shoes.

"I...uh," Y/N tried to think of a response, his brain feeling fuzzy.

A few quiet seconds passed before something passed over Jason's eyes, seemingly like he was coming out of a trance. The Alpha took a step back, giving the Omega a little bit of breathing room, even despite his disappointment at his moving back.

"Sorry, I uh...sorry, I didn't mean to get so close," Jason apologized.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm not upset," Y/N told him, gently placing his hand on the Alpha's wrist, jerking at the heat he felt underneath the ivory skin, "Jason, you're really hot."

"Well, thank you, sweetheart. Glad you noticed," Jason winked, trying to deflect the comment.

"No, no, I mean, you're burning up. Are you okay?" Y/N asked, removing his hand and using it to press the back of his palm against the Alpha's forehead, a worried look crossing his face. He didn't even realize it was him now closing the distance between them, stepping into the Alpha's space.

"Yeah, I'm fine, don't worry. I'm just running a bit of a fever, it's no big deal," Jason answered.

"You're literally sweating buckets, and your skin is red. This is more than just a 'bit of a fever'. Have you taken your temperature? How about a shower and some cold water? I'm sure I have some ice packs-"

"I'm fine, Y/N. Just drop it," Jason snapped, a little too harshly as the Omega immediately flinched and stepped back, looking away from the Alpha.

"Right, sorry. I didn't mean to bother," Y/N mumbled.

Jason sighed, running a hand through his hair, "No, don't apologize. I didn't mean to snap. Look, it's late, and I'm exhausted. I'll head home and sleep it off, alright?"

"You're welcome to stay the night if you want. It's no trouble. I'll even let you use my various lotions," Y/N joked, though his tone and face were still showing his worry for his friend.

"Thanks, but I'm not gonna intrude. I'll see you later, Y/N," Jason said, walking past the Omega.

Before he could say anything else, Jason grabbed the rest of his things and was out of the bathroom and his apartment within a couple of minutes. The sudden tense and awkward silence was a little unsettling for the Omega, especially after how close he and the Alpha had become in the past couple of years.

"Well, fuck," Y/N breathed, running a hand through his hair.

A couple of days had gone by and Y/N hadn't heard anything from Jason. It wasn't unusual for him to go radio silent for a few days, sometimes a couple of weeks if he was working on an important case.

But, this was different. After seeing how Jason left his apartment the other night, the Omega had been nothing other than an anxious and worried mess.

What was wrong with him? Why was he acting so weirdly the other night? Was he okay? Did Y/N accidentally make him mad about the Sun joke?

That wouldn't make sense though since Jason had the raunchiest sense of humor he'd ever known. The jokes Y/N made could be considered playground stuff compared to some of the stuff that came out of that man's mouth.

All these questions and more had been running through the Omega's mind for the past couple of days. He wanted to check on the Alpha but was afraid of what his reaction would be if he did.

He'd thought about asking reaching out to Dick or Bruce or someone from Jason's family to see if they'd heard from him, but quickly decided against it, not wanting to come off as a clingy or annoying Omega.

Jason would talk to him when he was ready, and he had no choice but to respect that.

Even though it didn't make the wait any less painful or worrying.

"Fuck it," Y/N cursed, grabbing his phone from the coffee table.

Scrolling through his contacts, he found the name he was looking for and pressed the call button, lifting the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Alfred. It's Y/N."

"Master Y/N. What a surprise. How are you, my dear boy?"

"I'm doing well, thank you," A smile spread across his face at the polished voice on the other end. The butler was always so nice and respectful to speak to. Jason always said it was impossible to talk to Alfred and not feel good or better about yourself.

"Wonderful to hear. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Actually, yes. I was hoping you'd be able to tell me where Jason is. I haven't heard from him in a couple of days, and I was just wondering if you knew where he was."

"Unfortunately, I am not aware of Master Jason's whereabouts, nor is anyone else in the manor. He has not contacted anyone within the family for some time, and we are all rather concerned."

That had Y/N even more worried.

He knew Jason didn't have the best relationship with Bruce, his adoptive father, but from what the Omega understood, that disdain didn't extend to his other family members. At least not completely.

Especially Alfred of all people. Jason always said how Alfred was his favorite out of everyone in that entire family, so the fact that the butler didn't know what was going on had him even more on edge.

"Is everything alright, Master Y/N?" Alfred asked, noticing the Omega's long silence.

"Oh, yes, sorry. Everything's fine. Just a bit distracted," Y/N lied.

"Of course, my dear boy. If there is anything else I can do, please let me know."

"Yes, sir. Thank you," Y/N replied, hearing the butler hang up the phone a second later.

"Fuck," the Omega cursed.

After putting his phone down, the Omega ran a hand down his face while doing a nervous scratch on his durag-covered head. It didn't make sense, and the Omega was beginning to worry something terrible had happened to the vigilante, knowing the life he led.

"Dammit Jay, where the hell are you?"

"Fucking shit," Jason groaned, sweat dripping down his body as his hands gripped the sheets.

His teeth were clenched tightly together, and his body was trembling slightly from the intense pain his lower region was feeling as he furiously moved the pocket sex toy furiously up and down his raging and hard dick, damn near close to breaking it which wouldn't be good considering it was his last one.

"Fuck, fuck, fuuuck," Jason growled, his hips arching off the bed.

This was the fourth night in a row that the Alpha had been suffering through the intense pain that was his rut. The pain was only getting worse the longer he ignored and attempted to suppress his instincts, which he wasn't doing a good job of doing if the state of his apartment was anything to go by.

His bedroom, living room, kitchen, and every other room in the apartment was in complete disarray. Broken pieces of furniture were scattered across the floor, his walls had multiple holes in them, and a few stains of his blood could be found in various spots around the place.

It was a good thing he paid rent up front and the building manager was never around, or they would've kicked him out and called the police.

"Ugh, aah," the Alpha grunted, his hips arching off the bed as the vibrations coursed through his dick, sending shivers throughout his body.

His knot was already swollen and pulsating, but it wasn't enough. He needed an actual hole to insert his knot into. A nice wet, tight, and pulsing hot hole that he could fuck and breed, pumping his cum and his seed inside.

He needed an Omega.

"Goddammit," Jason panted, tossing the small toy to the side and laying his head back on the pillow, a sheen layer of sweat covering his entire body.

The pain had gone away temporarily, but now the urge to fuck and knot an Omega was growing stronger, and it was making him lose his mind. If he could just find an Omega and breed them, the pain would go away. But, he couldn't just go and pick up a random Omega off the street and force them to spread their legs so the Alpha fuck their brains out even if that's what his body was calling him to do.

At least, not without being arrested and charged with rape.

It took everything in him to leave Y/N's apartment that night after he realized he was entering the early stages of his rut, hence his somewhat weird behavior towards the Omega. Knowing how intense and strong his ruts had gotten since he came back after being dipped in the Lazarus pits, Jason didn't want to take the chance of hurting anyone, especially the Omega he'd come to care for deeply.

Not that Y/N knew this.

And now, it was getting harder and harder to fight against the urge to do just that. To ignore his basic and natural instincts.

He figured it to be a side effect of the Lazarus pits, seeing as how other parts of his body and mind had become more enhanced after this little swim. It'd make sense that it would also affect his mating cycle, he just didn't think it would make them this intense and impossible to deal with.

As time passed and he went through his rut cycles, they slowly got more intense. He was way more aggressive than he was normally, he'd start to experience pain and literal freaking blue balls if he didn't get his knot out in enough time, and worst of all, his ruts were lasting longer and starting to occur more frequently. They used to come every 2 months, maybe one and a half if he was just unlucky. Now, they were damn near coming every month or few weeks.

And the last time he actually had someone with him through his rut, because of increased aggressiveness which made him much more brutal and rough than normal (and that was saying something), he nearly put that Omega in the hospital. Of course, they were understanding and didn't hold it against him, but he didn't want to risk hurting anyone else.

He started ignoring his ruts and locking himself away in his apartment. He'd buy a bunch of sex toys and other stuff that would help ease the pain and tension and would just tough it out until his rut was over, not caring that the pain would only get worse the longer he ignored his instincts.

"Augh," Jason moaned, the pain starting to come back and his arousal rising again.

He reached his hand down, his fingers wrapping around his large, throbbing, and rock-hard cock, his thumb rubbing the tip and smearing the precum leaking out of the slit. The Alpha groaned, his hips thrusting up into his hand, the movements rough and uncoordinated.

This is what it had been for the past almost week. Him alone in his apartment with nothing but his hand, rut-specific fleshlights that ended up torn apart after only a couple of uses because of his ridiculously enlarged knot, and an ever-consistent raging hard-on.

And the pain. Don't forget the pain.

The pain was the worst part. The need and desire to mate and breed an Omega was strong, but the physical and mental pain his body would be in due to not giving into those desires was the absolute fucking worst.

"Fuck, ugh," Jason groaned, his fist picking up speed.

His eyes closed the image of a beautiful and naked Omega underneath him, moaning his name and begging him to fuck him or her. The smell of their scent was the sweetest aroma he'd ever experienced, and their body was the softest and smoothest thing he'd ever touched.

While his hand furiously stroked up and down, so close to the edge but just not able to reach it, he could feel his anger growing more the longer it took for him to reach his release. Then, as he was imagining the body of some random Omega that was on top of him, that blurred image where their face should be suddenly had a face.

Y/N's face.

"Oh fuck Jason!" Y/N screamed in his head, his hands pressing against the vigilante's hard chest while he bit his lips in painful pleasure as he bounced up and down on his dick.

A guttural sound left his throat, his hips thrusting up into his hand faster and harder as he imagined the smaller male on top of him, moaning and begging the Alpha to knot him, his body writhing in pleasure. His sweaty brown skin glistened in the light from the moon outside as his body moved up and down with the rattling bed from the force of Jason's thrusts inside him.

"Y/N, fu-fuck, baby, yes," Jason groaned, his body moving up and down as the imaginary Y/N bounced his body up and down the Alpha's massive cock, taking his knot so beautifully.

"Shit," the Alpha cursed, his hand gripping his cock tighter, his palm rubbing the head, a growl leaving his mouth.

He thrust into his hand even harder, his sore and throbbing cock leaking more and more pre-cum as he imagined Y/N screaming out on top of him, begging for his knot.

"Fuck, Jason, knot me! Please, I need it. Give me your knot!"

"I'm gonna, baby. Gonna knot you, give you my knot," Jason answered, his mind still deep in his fantasy.

Before he knew it, Jason had blown one of the biggest and most satisfying loads he's had this entire rut, possibly his entire life. His hips arched off the bed with his hand milking his dick for every drop of cum his balls could produce.

"Shit," Jason groaned, his hips falling back to the bed and his chest heaving up and down.

His heart was pounding, and his body was still covered in a thick layer of sweat, but the pain was subsiding. Not completely, but enough for the Alpha to at least catch his breath. His head was fuzzy, and his vision was blurry, but he was slowly coming back to reality.

"Fuck, I'm a goddamn mess."

Truthfully, this wasn't the first time this had happened. The Alpha had known for a long time that his feelings towards the Omega weren't strictly platonic. Hell, he'd immediately found the guy attractive since the first time he met him, but he had no idea when his feelings began developing into something deeper and more serious.

Even then, it wasn't like Jason was the best person to have a healthy relationship with. He wasn't exactly a people person, and he wasn't the best when it came to expressing his emotions. Plus, the fact that he had a very dangerous career choice didn't help.

But, despite all of that, Y/N was the first person he'd truly felt comfortable with in a very long time outside of Roy, and not just because he was a new Omega in the city who would always patch him up. Don't ask him why, but sometimes it was easy to talk to a complete stranger.

Plus, after getting to know him, Jason became protective of the Omega, wanting to keep him safe.

When they met, Y/N was a clueless and innocent little Omega who had no business being out at such a late hour, especially in Gotham. Jason couldn't have that. So, he made sure to check in on him regularly to make sure no harm had come to him, which didn't help with the growing attraction he was feeling towards him.

It also didn't help that Y/N and he seemed to banter back and forth and act like a couple, flirty undertones and all. Whenever they'd hang out outside of the Omega's apartment, people always assumed they were together. And it wasn't like Jason would mind that. Not at all. He just didn't know if Y/N would mind it.

He'd admit, there was a time when he thought about pursuing a romantic relationship with the Omega, but ultimately decided against it. Jason didn't think he deserved the happiness and warmth the smaller male brought him.

So, he chose to content himself with the friendship he had with him, not wanting to ruin one of the only good things he had in his life.

Now, however, the Alpha was beginning to reconsider.

Not even a few minutes went by before Jason felt his dick rising to attention again, his rut coming back with an even more demanding vengeance.

"Dammit, not again," Jason cursed, sitting up.

The pain was starting to come back, and his dick was already hardening again, the head a deep red and aching with need. His suppressants virtually did nothing for him anymore aside from giving him close to an hour of relief.

And he could feel that if he didn't knot someone soon and properly let his rut play out, he was going to kill someone. He'd already destroyed most of his apartment.

"I'm so fucked."

"Hey, Dick. Any word on Jason?" Y/N asked, leaning his elbows on the counter as he tried to resist biting his nails while holding the phone to his ear.

He'd become more of a nervous wreck the longer he didn't hear from Jason. He figured everything would be fine, thinking that Jason was just on a mission and couldn't respond, but when Bruce reached out to him to see if he knew where his adoptive son had been, the Omega's anxiety skyrocketed.

"No, sorry. We haven't heard anything from him. We checked his safehouse and his apartment and didn't find anything but we haven't stopped looking. How are you doing?"

Y/N ignored the feeling that Dick was holding back something, not telling him the entire truth. But, he was too worried to care.

"Yeah, I'm doing okay. Just a little stressed," the Omega replied.

"You're not the only one. We're all worried about him. This isn't the first time he's gone missing, and the fact that no one has seen him or heard anything from him is making us all anxious," Dick explained.

"I understand. If you guys need any help, just let me know," Y/N told him.

"Thanks, Y/N. We'll call if we need you. Just stay safe and relax, alright? Don't worry, I'm sure he'll turn up. He always does."

"Okay. Bye, Dick."

Y/N hung up the phone after hearing Dick say his goodbyes as well before starting to pace back and forth in his apartment. It'd been a week since the Omega last saw Jason.

Normally, he'd be completely fine, knowing Jason was probably doing some vigilante business and didn't want him getting involved. But, this was different.

The way Jason left his apartment, looking like he was sick or coming down with something, the fact that he hadn't heard from him, or anyone in his family for that matter, and the fact that Dick didn't seem like he was telling him the entire truth had the Omega in a near panic.

"Jason, I swear the next time I fucking see you," the Omega cursed.

"You'll do what, sweetheart?"

"Augh!"

Y/N screamed, jumping back and tripping over the corner of the couch, falling onto his back with his feet landing on the cushions in a very sitcom-like manner. The sudden voice nearly gave him a heart attack, and his brain was short-circuiting, unable to think straight.

When he looked up, he saw Jason standing in his balcony doorway, his frame taking up the entire space, and a smirk on his face. A smirk that he had very much missed seeing, but for right now, the mushy feeling stuff was going to have to wait as he had about a week's worth of anxiety, worries, and fury to unleash on him.

"Miss me?"

"You asshole! What the hell?!" Y/N yelled, grabbing the closest thing to him, a pillow, and throwing it at him before grabbing his shoe and running over to beat him with it, "Where the hell have you been?! I haven't heard from you in a week and no one in your family has either, and you show up here asking if I miss you?! You fucking wish!"

"Whoa, okay. Calm down," Jason chuckled, stepping forward and grabbing the Omega's wrist.

"Don't tell me to calm down, you idiot," Y/N hissed, trying and failing to remove his arm from the Alpha's grasp, his grip like iron. He forgot how much he missed Jason's strong grip.

Get those dirty thoughts out of your head.

Y/N continued to beat him with his sandal until he heard a faint growl and felt himself being tackled roughly back onto the couch, the air leaving his lungs.

"Ahh," Y/N breathed, his eyes squeezing shut from the impact.

"Enough, Y/N," Jason growled, his tone low and husky, sending a shiver through the Omega's body. His larger body and hands effectively had him pinned down, the smell of his pheromones and his natural scent filling his nose.

"Uh, uh, mister! You don't get to be bossy Alpha after you've had me and everyone else worried sick for almost a week, you hear me? I oughta-"

Y/N was cut off as the Alpha leaned forward, his nose nuzzling against the skin of his neck and breathing deeply, inhaling his scent. The sudden closeness had the Omega's mind reeling, his hands instinctively gripping the Alpha's muscular arms.

"Uh- I... I oughta– Whoa, um...what are you doing?" Y/N stuttered, his heart pounding in his chest.

"God, you smell amazing," Jason purred, his voice a low rumble.

"Excuse me?"

"Your scent, it's amazing," Jason said, his teeth grazing the skin of the Omega's throat, his tongue licking a stripe across the pulse point.

Y/N let out a surprise gasp, his hands gripping the vigilante's biceps as the Alpha licked and kissed at his neck, breathing his scent in. While he was very shocked by this behavior and was still worried about him, he couldn't deny the extreme arousal he was feeling.

Jason was a big guy, not just height-wise but in terms of muscle mass and body size. So, the fact that he had him pressed underneath him on his couch, his large hands roaming his body, his mouth and nose kissing and sniffing at his neck was causing him a little issue with his underwear and the slick slowly starting to coat it.

"J-Jason, what are you doing?" Y/N breathed.

"I wanna fuck you," Jason said bluntly, pulling his head away from the Omega's neck and looking down at him, a feral look in his eyes.

"What?"

"I wanna fuck you, breed you. Need you," Jason growled, his hips grinding down onto the smaller males, the friction and the pressure of the Alpha's cock rubbing against his own Omega genitals pulling another gasp from him.

Then, a scent caught his nose. Jason's scent...

Y/N could smell the pheromones radiating off the Alpha, the scent of wood burning in a fire, leather, and hints of cinnamon filling his nose. He didn't even realize his hands were now pressed against the broad chest of the Alpha until he felt the toned muscles underneath his shirt.

"You're in your rut, aren't you?" Y/N realized.

Jason didn't make a sound, but if the way his head moved up and down as he ground himself into the Omega while still attacking his neck and scent glands, that was confirmation enough. He ran down Y/N's body, moving to grip his waist so he could force him to move back against him.

"Fuck, why didn't you tell me?"

"Didn't wanna hurt you," Jason grunted, his nose pressing into the crook of the Omega's neck and breathing deeply, his hands moving lower and gripping his thighs.

"Oh, Jason," Y/N gasped, the name slipping out as he felt the Alpha's large, rough hands move underneath his shirt, caressing his stomach and sides, "Come on, we gotta get you something to help you calm down."

"Can't wait. Need you now," Jason groaned, his hips thrusting faster.

"Jason, you can't. Not down here. Someone could see through the balcony door," Y/N argued, though the protest was weak as the Omega was losing the fight against his own arousal.

That was apparently enough to get the Alpha to see reason as he paused his movements over the Omega, but only for a moment.

"Fine, have it your way," Jason grumbled, standing up from the couch, grabbing the Omega, lifting him into his arms, and throwing him over his shoulder, his hand slapping his ass, the sting shooting straight to his core, "Let's go."

"H-Hey! Jason! Would you hold on for a second, you damn brute," Y/N cried, his arms and legs flailing.

Jason didn't listen, walking towards Y/N's bedroom instead of the bathroom where Y/N intended for them to go, not paying attention to the Omega's squirming and his hand slapping his ass again, pulling a yelp from the Omega.

It wasn't a long walk until Jason reached the Omega's bedroom and threw him on the bed, the smaller male bouncing as he landed, almost untying itself from the force.

"Shit, Jay," Y/N huffed, the air getting knocked out of him.

"Take your clothes off," Jason ordered, his voice deep and gruff.

"I'm sorry, what?" Y/N asked, not expecting that order.

"Take. Your. Clothes. Off," Jason repeated, his hands working on removing his jacket and his shirt.

Y/N could feel the small gush of slickness that came out of him as the Alpha removed his clothes, revealing his incredibly toned and muscular body, his abs rippling as his arms lifted his shirt over his head and tossed it somewhere in the room. Y/N could see the sizable print of the Alpha's dick bulging in his pants, making him gulp.

"Jason, can we pause for like two seconds and talk about this," Y/N started, his eyes wide and staring at the man's naked torso, "We can't just-"

"Y/N, take your clothes off, or I'll do it myself," Jason growled, his eyes staring intensely at the Omega, the feral look and the slight glow of his green irises made the Omega shudder.

"You wouldn't dare," Y/N challenged.

"Try me."

Before Y/N could argue or say anything, the Alpha was on top of him, his fingers gripping his shirt and tearing the fabric, a rip echoing through the room. While Y/N was still shocked by the surprise move, he grabbed the ripped shirt and used it to tie the Omega's hands together, keeping him from pushing him away.

"Jason, what the absolute fuck?" Y/N asked, trying and failing to break free of the Alpha's restraints, his wrists and forearms tied tightly together, the shirt acting as a makeshift rope.

Any other person and Y/N would've been able to break out of that makeshift bondage before they could even blink. Jason on the other hand was trained by Batman. He'd doubt if he could get out of this shit by the time the sun came up.

"What? It's not like you're not gonna throw it out anyway," Jason answered, not stopping his movement as he removed the rest of the Omega's clothes, ripping his pants off and leaving him in just his underwear.

"You're a real piece of work, you know that, you bastard?" Y/N spat, not liking the feeling of him not being in control in this situation.

"So I've been told. Now, are you gonna be good and do what I tell you, or are you gonna fight me the whole time?" Jason asked, leaning over the Omega.

"You've got a lotta nerve coming in here and bossing me around, you little shit, especially after you ghosted and ignored me all this week," Y/N spat, glaring up at the Alpha.

"Yeah, I'll apologize for that later," Jason said, leaning his face down and burying his nose into the crook of the Omega's neck.

"You bet your ass you will. And, stop smelling me," Y/N protested, trying to pull his neck away.

"Shut up, I'm trying to focus," Jason grunted, his teeth biting the skin of the Omega's throat.

"Not until you explain what the hell is going on with you," Y/N responded his neck closing, preventing the Alpha from more access to his skin.

Jason's lips curled up into a snarl, the green in his eyes flashing before his tongue darted out, licking a stripe across the Omega's closed neck, the action pulling a gasp from him.

"Dammit, Y/N, just shut the fuck up and let me think," Jason growled, his hand running along the side of the Omega's body, his nails grazing the skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"Think?! Think about what, you big oaf? How you came in here after disappearing on me for a week and expecting me to just let you fuck me because you're in your rut? Or, how you're gonna get yourself arrested when someone hears the neighbors getting dicked down?" Y/N replied, trying and failing to ignore the shivers that were going down his spine.

"Would you stop worrying about stupid shit and focus on me," Jason demanded, his hand gripping the Omega's jaw, turning his head and forcing him to look at him, his eyes shining in the dim light of the room, "I've gone through a week of pure fucking hell, and I'm not about to have you ruin the one relief I have right now."

"Relief?! You're lucky you were smart enough to restrain me because if you didn't, I'd be tearing your ass a new one right now," Y/N sneered, his anger rising.

"Good luck with that," Jason chuckled, his knee rubbing the inside of the Omega's thigh.

"Don't touch me, you jerk," Y/N said, trying to close his legs.

"Don't fight me, Y/N," Jason growled, his nails digging into the skin of the smaller male's jaw, his teeth clenching, "I've been locked in my apartment for almost a week, jerking my dick and using a pocket pussy, and none of it's been satisfying. If you keep fighting me, I'm not gonna be so nice."

"You've been masturbating for a week and nothing is helping?" Y/N questioned, his eyes wide.

"It's not enough," Jason answered, his nose nuzzling the crook of the Omega's neck, his teeth grazing the skin, his hot breath hitting his pulse point, "Nothing is enough."

Y/N took a moment to pause, assessing everything around him and giving his anger and attitude a few seconds to simmer down before this got more out of control than it needed to. Jason never acted this aggressively towards him, and at first, he thought it was because he was rutting. But, thinking of some of his other friends who were Alphas, he never remembered them going this far, acting like a completely different person who didn't care about the other person's wishes. And he knew that was far from the Alpha in front of him and his regular behavior.

As far as he could ever think, Jason would never do anything to hurt Y/N or push him into something he didn't want to do. He could be a bit protective at times, not wanting the Omega to get hurt or come into contact with any danger. And, he could also be a bit of a flirt when he was comfortable, constantly teasing him and saying suggestive comments. But, the fact that he was currently holding him down and threatening him, even being in his rut was concerning.

"Jason, when was the last time you had a rut?"

"Almost a month ago," Jason murmured, nuzzling his face against the jaw and neck, making his way down to his chest while his hand softly caressed his body.

"And did you have someone to help you through it?" Y/N asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"No," Jason replied.

"Why not? Didn't you have anyone else who could help you through it?" Y/N probed further.

"Didn't want to risk it with anyone. So, I dealt with it on my own," Jason explained, his teeth biting and sucking the skin of the Omega's collarbone, leaving small hickeys.

"And how long have you been dealing with it on your own?"

There was a moment of silence as Y/N felt the kisses and bites to his skin pause for a second. Then, he heard a soft grunt, and the kisses and bites continued.

"How long, Jason?" Y/N pressed.

"A while."

"Be more specific."

"I don't fucking know, alright? Almost 3 years, maybe more," Jason snapped, his nails suddenly digging into the flesh of the Omega's sides, pulling him against the Alpha.

"Jason! Three years?! Do you know how dangerous that is?" Y/N cried, looking at the Alpha with wide eyes.

"Of course I do, idiot. But, it's not like there are many options for an Alpha vigilante who's supposed to be dead," Jason grumbled, his tone laced with a hint of sadness.

"Then, why didn't you ask Bruce for help? Couldn't he have gotten one of his doctor friends to prescribe you some Feromexin or Feromine-X to help with the ruts?" Y/N argued, not understanding the Alpha's decision.

Jason raised an eyebrow at the Omega's question, feeling a spike of anger at the implication of his words.

"How do you know about the suppressants for Alphas? You been fucking another Alpha or something, sweetheart?" Jason growled, the slight tint of green in his eyes seemingly flaring up.

"No, dumbass. I have friends and family who are Alphas, and I did some research on the internet," Y/N answered, not liking the tone the Alpha was using.

"Why were you doing research, huh?" Jason hummed, his grip on the Omega's waist loosening, his hands moving to grab the Omega's ass, his fingers kneading the cheeks, a moan escaping the Omega's mouth, "Did you find something you liked, baby?"

"Jason, for the love of God, focus damnit! Answer my question," Y/N almost snapped, which was very unlike him.

"Oh, my fucking god. I don't know, okay! They don't work for me anymore," Jason yelled, his voice rising.

"What do you mean they don't work for you anymore? What did you take?"

"Feromine-X. And, I mean, they've just stopped working. After I was resurrected, I guess, my ruts have just gotten stronger, and the suppressants don't do shit for me," Jason explained, his voice becoming more agitated.

"Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you go to Bruce for help? Or Dick, or Alfred, or anyone?"

"Because I don't want their damn pity, okay. It's bad enough I'm the 'dead Robin', but now I can't even handle my ruts like a normal Alpha and have to depend on everyone else for help. I don't want others having to take care of me, and I especially don't need it," Jason growled, his hands gripping the Omega's thighs, his nails digging into the skin, his teeth clenching as his anger rose.

"But, I like taking care of you," Y/N murmured.

Jason's gaze immediately softened, his eyes staring at the Omega's, his lips falling open.

"What?"

"I like taking care of you. Whenever you'd come to me, needing stitches or painkillers, or when you'd just show up and we'd hang out, I didn't mind. I always wanted to help. I like spending time with you, and I wanted to make sure you're okay and safe. You could've come to me for help if this was really affecting you so badly," Y/N answered.

"Y/N, I can't ask you to do that. This isn't your responsibility," Jason said, his grip on the Omega's wrists and his thighs loosening.

"Um, considering the way you kind of barged in here, basically abducted me to my room and how I'm sitting here tied up by the tattered remains of my own shirt, I'd kinda say you basically almost made it my responsibility so...I mean, I'm just saying," Y/N said.

Jason stared at him for a moment before chuckling, his shoulders shaking.

"Why do you always have to go and make me feel like an idiot?" Jason laughed, his hands gently rubbing the Omega's thighs.

"Because it's what I do best," Y/N teased, a small smile coming to his lips.

"God, I missed you," Jason said, his arms wrapping around the Omega and his face burying itself in the crook of his neck.

"Missed you too, pasty," Y/N cooed, his hands rubbing the Alpha's back.

"Why you gotta bring my skin color into this again," Jason grumbled, his fingers pinching at the Omega's side in retaliation.

"Hey, don't take it out on my melanin, white boy," Y/N giggled, squirming underneath him.

"You're such a brat," Jason growled, his teeth nipping at the Omega's throat.

"And you're a big jerk."

"I'll give you a big jerk," Jason muttered, his hips grinding against the Omega's, his cock pressing against the Omega's clothed and wet privates, "So, you still willing to help me through my rut?"

"Hmm, well, you're not exactly my type of white boy," Y/N joked, pretending to scan the Alpha up and down.

Jason gave him a warning growl, his teeth giving a harsh bite to the Omega's shoulder.

"Fuck, okay, yes, I'll help," Y/N whimpered, feeling his slick still wetting his underwear and now his sheets under him.

"That's what I thought," Jason smirked, his hands gripping the Omega's waist and bringing him into his grasp, his face diving back into the crook of his neck.

"Ah! On one condition, though," Y/N conceded.

Jason paused with an agitated huff, his aggressiveness returning slowly as he felt himself finally getting closer to getting what his body was craving, "Name it."

"You tell me when you're in trouble, and you don't keep things from me. You keep me in the loop and let me take care of you when needed," Y/N told him, his eyes serious.

"Fine. But, that goes both ways. You're not allowed to hide things from me, and you can't keep shit from me. Understand, brat?" Jason negotiated.

"Yes, massa," Y/N teased, leaning up and nuzzling the Alpha's cheek, a purr rumbling in his throat.

"Smartass. Now, can we please fuck?" Jason asked, his patience growing thin.

"Yeah, yeah. Go ahead. Just remember, be gentle, okay," Y/N chuckled.

"Hah, after calling me white boy and massa? No, no. You deserve whatever you're gonna get," Jason grinned, his hands slipping between the Omega's thighs, spreading them, and rubbing the soaked spot of his underwear.

"Ah fuck. Well, can you at least untie me?" Y/N moaned, his head falling back onto the bed, his legs twitching.

"Nah, I kind of like having you helpless and unable to fight back," Jason smirked, his teeth biting the hem of the Omega's underwear and ripping it off him, leaving him bare.

"Asshole."

"But, you still love me," Jason cooed, his hand caressing the Omega's body.

"Maybe a little," Y/N admitted, his heart rate speeding up.

"Good. Now, shut up and don't move," Jason ordered.

Jason pressed his face between the Omega's legs, getting a full whiff of the natural scent that came off him, a deep, sweet but light musky scent. His tongue darted out, licking a stripe along the folds of the Omega's opening, the taste of his slick on his tongue making him groan.

Y/N moaned and tensed up, his hands moving up to grip the pillow behind him. He'd had sex plenty of times, but this was different. The number of times Y/N had woken up from a wet dream that detailed this kind of moment between him and the vigilante was countless, and the fact that it was now becoming a reality was adding to the euphoric feelings starting to overwhelm his mind and body

Jason's tongue circled around the Omega's entrance, teasing him. He felt a wave of possessiveness come over him as his hands grabbed beneath the bend of the smaller man's knees to push his legs up, further exposing his shiny. slick-covered hole to him.

Pressing his nose against the entrance again, he took a small whiff before attaching his lips to the wet organ and pushing his tongue inside. Both men released filthy noises as Jason all but devoured the smaller man in front of him, inside and out.

"Jason, fuck!" Y/N cursed, his hands flying down and his fingers tangling in the Alpha's hair.

Jason growled, his hand reaching up and grabbing the smaller man's wrists from his hair, pinning them down against his stomach. He pulled away to look at the Omega through the gap between his spread thighs.

"I told you to stay still," Jason growled.

"Sorry, sorry. I'll be good, promise," Y/N whimpered, his chest heaving.

"You better," Jason warned, his grip tightening around the Omega's wrist before releasing and returning to his task, "Keep these here."

Jason's tongue plunged back into the Omega's core, his mouth sucking and slurping at the slick and its addictive taste. He continued eating out the sensitive and twitching hole, his tongue grazing across the hot walls and his pleasure crux.

He moved his hand up to where he was lapping at the hole, slick dripping from his chin as he prodded a finger around the entrance before slowly pushing the digit inside. Y/N squirmed at the tickling sensation while doing his best to remain still, even though another side of him desperately wanted to misbehave and poke at the Alpha's patience.

Jason pushed his finger inside, the wet muscle coating his finger and making it easy for him to press his middle finger inside. His tongue licked around his finger as he roughly pumped it in and out, barely giving any time for him to adjust before adding a second finger.

"Jason, oh, shit. Wait, wait, slow down," Y/N panted, his head tossing and turning, his fingers pulling at his own hair.

Jason ignored his pleas, his fingers stretching and curling inside the Omega, scissoring and opening him up. Y/N's whimpers and cries were going straight to his dick, the sound music to his ears.

"Shit, ah fuck! Jason, you're going too fast."

Y/N cried out as he felt a third finger enter him, the stretch burning slightly. Jason continued his movements, moving his mouth away completely as he opted to watch the Omega squirm on his fingers with a prideful look.

"Stop looking at me like that," Y/N whined, his face blushing red as he unconsciously tried to close his legs which did not go unnoticed by the vigilante. He didn't take kindly to the Omega giving him orders, curling his fingers inside and delivering some harsh movements that managed to hit his pleasure spot, causing him to cry out.

"I'll look at you any way I want to," Jason said, his eyes roaming the Omega's body before he suddenly paused his movements.

Y/N looked up in confusion before gasping at the suddenly empty feeling, Jason removing his fingers before grabbing at his still-tied wrists. He looked up to the Alpha who was staring down at him with an intense look that had him nervously fidgeting on the bed.

"Wanna keep acting like a brat, fine. I'll treat you like one then," Jason declared.

The vigilante untied the tattered shirts from around Y/N's arms, giving him only a split second of freedom before he flipped him over roughly, placing a harsh slap on his bottom that had him crying out. He grabbed the smaller male's arms again, this time folding them behind his back and tying the shirt around them in a tight hold while the Omega softly whimpered against the sheets from the rough manhandling.

He could feel his hole still dripping as he listened to the sounds of zippers and clothes rustling, his anticipation and anxiety rising.

"Jason, what are you–"

"Quiet," Jason ordered, his voice low.

"But-"

"I said, quiet dammit," Jason repeated, his hand landing another slap on his ass, the sting shooting straight through his spine.

Y/N gasped at the sting, doing his best to hold back the tears starting to pool in his eyes before he felt the Alpha grabbing him and pulling him off the bed, placing him on his knees on the floor in front of him.

Jason stood before him in his full naked glory, the sight causing his mouth to water. He wasn't a stranger to seeing the Alpha's body, considering he'd spent a considerable amount of time patching up his various wounds multiple nights in a row. But, this was the first time he'd been able to see his whole body. And, was it a sight to behold.

Jason was a big man, and his dick was no exception.

The enlarged organ definitely looked like it could do some damage, with a considerable length and a girth that had his insides fluttering in anticipation or fear. Possibly both. Actually, very likely it was both.

It was a wonder how the Alpha was able to hide that thing, especially underneath his skin-tight vigilante suit, or how anyone could handle having him inside. He knew Alphas' cocks tended to grow in size during ruts, but this was something else.

"Oh fuck–" Y/N muttered, his arousal spiking which the rutting Alpha picked up on if the jump in his throbbing dick was any indication.

"Open your mouth," Jason ordered, his hands running through the Omega's hair.

"Fuck, Jason. I don't think–"

"Did I ask what you think or did I tell you to open your mouth?" Jason gripped the Omega's hair that was now uncovered from the durag slipping off while Jason fingered him.

He pulled the Omega's head back, before grabbing his penis with his other hand, tapping it against the Omega's mouth, smearing the leaking pre-cum over his lips.

"I said, open up," Jason said, the tone in his voice signaling this was the Omega's last chance before the Alpha did it for him.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, looking up at the Alpha. He prayed that his past few experiences would be able to match up to this, but he didn't have much time to prepare himself before Jason took it upon himself to force the Omega's mouth open, giving the cockhead the opening it needed to enter the wet cavern.

"Fucking little brat, clearly we need to work on your ability to listen to orders," Jason grunted, his hips jerking forward and his dick pushing deeper into the Omega's mouth.

Y/N let out a muffled cry, his hands twitching and his fingers gripping his forearm, trying his hardest to ignore the tears that were now freely streaming down his face. Jason gave a few experimental thrusts while his hands held the Omega's head still, the tip of his penis already pressing against the back of his throat.

The Omega could feel how much his lips were stretched from just the little few inches he had inside. It was almost a wonder how his jaw wasn't aching. But, that wasn't a luxury he had as the Alpha started to pick up the pace, the force of his thrusts pushing more of his cock down the Omega's throat.

Y/N's eyes widened, his vision blurring from the tears, and his eyes rolling back into his skull, his mind focusing only on the thick cock currently fucking his throat and the lack of air entering his lungs. He could feel the pressure and pain in his jaw increasing, his mouth being used like a fleshlight for the Alpha's pleasure.

Jason's animalistic grunts along with Y/N's choking and gagging noise filled up the room as the vigilante had his way with the smaller man. Y/N's instincts were to try and push back against the muscular hips thrusting into his mouth, but, once again the Alpha was a few steps ahead of him as his arms struggled in their binds behind his back, leaving him no other choice but to sit there and receive the aggressive and brutal treatment.

Jason was losing himself in the pleasure, the Omega's tight and wet mouth and throat feeling heavenly around his cock. He'd been dreaming about this for so long, and he wasn't going to hold back.

After a week of hell alone in his room with his hand and cheap fleshlights, he was finally getting the relief he needed. Now, all that was left was for him to get his knot inside the Omega and truly relieve his pain.

The Alpha looked over into the large mirror the Omega kept in his room, watching the bound smaller man sitting on his knees for his body, helpless against the Alpha's stronghold and cock. His Alpha pride was skyrocketing through the roof.

After just a few more minutes, he removed his dick from the Omega's mouth, the puffy, swollen red state of his lips leaving a satisfied and smug smirk on the Alpha. He leaned down and grabbed the Omega under his shoulder before throwing and slamming him down on the bed, forcing his legs apart again.

Y/N let out a choked gasp as the wind was knocked out of him. His face was a mess, with tear tracks running down his face, his jaw aching from the rough mouth-fucking he just received.

He heard the Alpha rummaging through the bedside table, his hands blindly searching the contents before finding the packet he was looking for, before suddenly giving an accusing look.

"Why do you have a knot condom?" Jason asked, his voice gruff.

Y/N recognized the possessive and slightly angry look that was common in all Alphas, cursing on the inside of his head. He'd forgotten that was in his nightstand.

"Um...that's, uh, a funny story," Y/N chuckled nervously, his heart rate speeding up.

"You fucked another Alpha during his rut?" Jason growled.

"Yes, but it was with one of my past flings," Y/N admitted with a nervous tone, "We were never serious, but he asked me to help and I agreed."

It was silent for a moment as the vigilante stared him down, his gaze dark and dangerous, his eyes narrowed on the Omega. Y/N's mind raced, hoping the Alpha wouldn't get too angry, knowing how much their ruts could drive up their territorial attitudes.

"How many times?"

"Huh?" Y/N replied, confused.

"How many times did you let him knot you," Jason repeated his grip on the condom's package tightening.

"I don't know. It was a rut! How am I supposed to remember how many times we did it," Y/N responded, his own irritation starting to grow.

"Were they his condoms or did you buy them?" Jason questioned, his eyes narrowing.

"His. I made him buy extra in case we ran out."

Jason was silent for another moment, taking another look at the open drawer before turning back to Y/N with a daunting expression.

"This is the only one left, so it looks like you went at it a few times. Guess that means I've got a lot of work cut out for me," Jason tore the package open and slipped the latex rubber over his penis, "And since it's the last one and only one you have, well, I hope you're suppressants have the added birth control," He said before getting on the bed and pulling the Omega towards him by his legs.

"Jason, you better be fucking joking. You didn't bring any extra condoms?" Y/N demanded, his eyes widening.

"Most don't fit me anymore since my dick grew a little more, let's hope this one is up for the job," Jason smirked while positioning himself at the Omega's entrance.

"Jason Peter Todd, I fucking swear if you knock me up–"

"Ah, quit your whining," Jason interrupted, pushing the head of his dick against the Omega's fluttering hole, the slick already coating the covered organ, "It's not like we don't have other options. Accidents happen all the time."

"Screw you, asshole," Y/N groaned, his teeth clenched.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm gonna do so much more than that," Jason grinned, his hands gripping the Omega's waist and his hips shoving forward.

Y/N cried out, his arms straining and his legs tensing as his body flailed underneath the Alpha's massive frame from the intense stretching he felt as his hole and walls tried to adjust and push out the intruding cock. His body arched into Jason's chest as the Alpha's dark head of hair nudged its way into the Omega's neck, his lips kissing at the juncture between his shoulder and neck.

Jason wasn't that quiet or still either, his body shaking and his breath stuttering from the euphoric feeling of the Omega's hot, tight walls wrapped around his cock. Even through the rubber, the wet heat around him had him desperately wanting to rip the condom off so he could feel the full flesh surrounding him.

"Shit, you're so fucking tight. Gonna ruin you for anyone else," Jason growled, his hips slowly pushing more into the Omega's while biting and sucking the sensitive skin.

"Ah, ah, J-Jason, wait," Y/N gasped, his head tossed back, his chest heaving, his body squirming from the uncomfortable and painful stretch.

"Fuck, just shut up," Jason grumbled, his hands wrapping around the Omega's neck and gripping his hair while moving to press his lips against Y/N's in a rough kiss.

He pushed himself more into the Omega, the latex-covered tip of his cock grazing past the Y/N's prostate as he whimpered and cried into the kiss, his feet pressing into the bed as the intense feeling of his body stretching around the Alpha started to overwhelm him.

Whoever once tried to say the big and massive guys had small penises clearly had not met Jason before, or just didn't understand body proportions and anatomy. Either way, the throbbing and large organ currently trying to park itself inside the Omega was a strong testament to how wrong they were.

There was no possible way Y/N was going to be able to walk properly on his own legs after this. Jason was going to have to carry him for the next few days, which judging by earlier, he probably wouldn't have any issues with it.

"Oh god, fuck. You're so big, I can't," Y/N whined, his back arching as his arms and hands struggled against the binds.

"So I've been told," Jason whispered, his lips kissing the side of the Omega's head, "Am I bigger than him? Better?"

"Fuck yes," Y/N moaned, his eyes squeezing shut.

Jason held a cocky grin at this, feeling himself getting closer to bottoming out inside the Omega, "Good, 'cause you're not letting him or anyone else near you again. This belongs to me," He growled, flexing his dick inside the Omega pulling another whine from the smaller male.

"Ah, ah, no. Please, please," Y/N pleaded, his toes curling.

"Say it," Jason growled in his ear, jerking the hold he still had around his neck and in his hair.

"Belongs to you. No one else's, only you." Y/N babbled, his body twitching.

"Good boy," Jason cooed, his lips attaching themselves to the Omega's neck and sucking a hickey.

When Jason fully bottomed out, he paused his movements, his forehead resting against the Omega's shoulder. He took a deep breath, the scent of the Omega's sweat and natural pheromones overwhelming him.

Both had a light sheen of sweat over their bodies, Jason's from his spiking body temperatures and Y/N from the Alpha's body over him and the slight physical exertion he was going through. The Alpha's breathing was harsh, and his grip on the Omega tightened as he tried to keep himself in control.

Before long, Jason was pulling himself out, leaving just the tip inside before thrusting back in, earning a cry from the Omega beneath him.

"No, stop! Just, ah, give me a second," Y/N begged, his eyes shut tightly, his nails scratching and digging into the palms of his hands.

"Shut up," Jason growled, his nose nuzzling the crook of the Omega's neck.

The Alpha continued his movements, only increasing his pace and intensity, his hands squeezing around the Omega's neck as his hips snapped into him. Jason's grunts and Y/N's moans and cries filled the room, along with the sound of skin slapping against each other and the rattling of Y/N's bed frame.

Jason stared into Y/N's eyes with an intense focus as he pounded into him, the sight of the Omega's tear-stained face and pouty red lips increasing his drive even more. They hadn't been fucking more than five minutes, yet Y/N looked like his soul was ready to depart his body.

Jason knew his size and stamina could be a lot to take in, and the fact that Y/N was already a mess had him feeling a sense of pride and satisfaction. His eyes broke their hold with Y/N's raking down the rest of the Omega's body.

The Omega's smaller pecs were moving up and down with his body as Jason pressed more into him. He could tell the Omega was getting antsy by not being able to move his arms while being fucked within an inch of his life, adding even more to the Alpha's dominant ego.

A few minutes passed as Jason continuously rutted into the Omega, his fingers pressing into the Omega's neck more, slowly taking away his breath, which put the Alpha on a power high. After another few seconds, he paused his movements, taking a moment to catch his breath and release his hold so that the Omega could also have the chance to breathe in new air while pulling himself out.

"Turn your ass over," Jason instructed with a pat to the Omega's thigh.

"Geez, can you give me a sec," Y/N wheezed, his head tossing from side to side.

"Nope." Jason grabbed him by his waist and flipped him onto his stomach, forcing him on his hands and knees to present himself before the Alpha.

"Asswipe," Y/N mumbled into the sheets.

The Omega yelped when he received another slap on his sore ass, loud and sharp, the sting and burn shooting through his entire body.

"What was that?" Jason asked.

"Nothing," Y/N muttered, his voice low.

"That's what I thought," Jason said, his finger brushing down the curve of the Omega's spine, before positioning himself at the Omega's hole and showing himself back inside.

Y/N's face fell onto the bed with a scream at the force, the strength leaving his body as he moaned sheets as Jason pounded him from behind. His hole was spasming around the Alpha's cock, preparing itself for the inevitable knot that was going to enter into him soon.

Jason grabbed his ass cheeks, spreading them so he could better see his cock entering in and out of the Omega's wet and stretched hole. The sight of it gives him another ego boost, slapping the Omega's ass to signal his satisfaction while continuing to plow his insides.

Y/N continued crying and moaning into the bed, which Jason didn't quite appreciate. His mind was suddenly filled with the image of another random Alpha making his Omega scream and cry on their dick and knot in this very room for the neighbors and anyone else nearby to listen.

With that thought in mind, he leaned down to grab the Omega's hair, pulling him off the bed and against his body while keeping his thrusting in a steady rhythm. His other hands rubbed down the Omega's sweaty body before reaching down to stimulate him from the front, adding to his pleasure and increased cries.

"No hiding those sweet sounds from me, baby. In fact, you better scream louder so the whole damn neighborhood knows who you belong to," Jason growled, his hand tightening its hold on the Omega's hair.

Damn Alphas and their possessive ass attitudes. Y/N didn't even want to imagine the looks he was going to get from his neighbors if any of them could hear the two. The walls weren't that thick.

"You're gonna be my good little cum dump, aren't you," Jason grunted, his hand rubbing against the Omega's front while his hips slammed against his ass, "Gonna take my knot and everything else I got."

"Yes, Jason... oh fuck," Y/N gasped, his head thrown back.

They'd fucked like rabbits in that position for some time, Jason's stamina being no joke. But, as his knot started to grow, he was forced to flip the Omega back over onto his back, his thrusts becoming shorter and sharper.

Y/N had begun to squirm once again under the large Alpha, feeling the dick inside him start to swell even more. He could only hope it wouldn't actually tear him in half as so many other people liked to play around and say.

Careful what you wish for folks.

"Jason, oh fuck, for the love of– please, slow down," Y/N begged, his head tossing and turning, his bound arms straining.

"Can't, too close," Jason groaned, his thrusts picking up speed.

"I can't, fuck, please!" Y/N cried.

"Quiet," Jason's hand smacked against the Omega's mouth, muffling his voice, "Stop squirming. Stay the fuck still," He growled.

Y/N whined underneath the Alpha's palm, his body still twisting and struggling. Jason's body was covered in sweat as he pistoned in and out of the Omega rapidly, slowly losing his rhythm as he could feel his knot forming.

"You're gonna be all mine from now on, brat. Hope you were really serious about earlier, 'cause you're only gonna be taking care of me from now on," Jason declared, his teeth biting and nipping at the Omega's earlobe.

The harder Jason's thrusts became, the closer both he and the Omega began to near their release. The Alpha's hand once again found its way around the Omega's neck as he continued to muffle his noises while now taking his breath away.

"Take it, dammit," Jason grunted, his hand pushing the Omega's body further down into the bed.

Y/N's body shook and trembled, his legs shaking and his toes curled. A few seconds later, he was letting out a muffled scream as his body shook with release, slick mixed with his cum squirting from his body and around the Alpha's cock that was now just rutting into him as his knot was about to pop.

"Yeah, there you go," Jason groaned, his own hips stuttering as the Omega's orgasm brought him over the edge, "Shit, here it comes, baby. Take it, fuck, take it all," He growled, his hips slamming all the way in him.

Jason's body stilled, his knot fully expanded and his dick released a massive load of cum, filling the condom inside the Omega's body. His arms wrapped around the smaller male's waist, holding him close as he rode out his orgasm.

Y/N whimpered, his body shaking and twitching from the sensation of the knot filling him, his body feeling utterly exhausted but also saturated from the hard fuck he'd just received.

Jason held him still, his chest heaving and his forehead resting on the Omega's shoulder. Their bodies were a mess, their skin glistening in sweat, their limbs tangled, and their heavy breathing the only sounds heard in the room.

The vigilante felt slight exhaustion, but also an overwhelming amount of relief. The pain of his rut subsided after finally getting to knot an Omega.

Not just any Omega though, the Omega of his dreams.

It was crazy that after one crazy and rough fuck, your feelings could become so obvious. Jason was in love with Y/N and had been for a while. Just needed a little push to realize that.

Of course, this could also be the high amount of endorphins running through his body but let's go with the first one since it's more romantic.

The Alpha rolled the two of them onto their sides, careful not to cause any pain or discomfort, their bodies still tied together.

"How are you feeling?" Jason asked, his tone much softer and calmer compared to his previous demeanor.

"Sore," Y/N said, his voice hoarse.

"Sorry, guess I got a little carried away," Jason smiled sheepishly, his hand rubbing the Omega's cheek.

"Maybe just a tad bit," Y/N teased

"Shut up. Don't act like you didn't like it," Jason chuckled.

"Mmm, I never said I didn't like it," Y/N smirked, his eyes looking down to the swollen knot still firmly plugged inside him.

"Brat," Jason scoffed, his hand swiping at the Omega's side.

"Asshole," Y/N replied.

The two sat in silence, taking the moment to breathe and collect their thoughts, Jason's hands the smaller male's body.

"Jason," Y/N called, his gaze fixed on the ceiling.

"Hmm?" The Alpha hummed.

"I think the condom broke," Y/N informed, his eyes glancing toward the Alpha.

Jason's eyes widened, his hand moving down to the base of his penis where the knot was starting to shrink. The latex did not seem to have held up against the pressure of his knot, as he could see some unsettling stretches and tears at the base of the rubber around his dick.

"Fuck," Jason cursed.

"Yeah...welp, no better time to test the effectiveness of Omega birth control than now," Y/N commented.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry, I should've–"

"Hey, hey, calm down. It's okay. We're not exactly virgins here. I've had a few flings and I'm sure you have too. Accidents happen," Y/N reassured, paraphrasing Jason's words from earlier

"I guess," Jason muttered, still feeling slightly guilty.

"Jay, stop worrying. Like you said, there are other options. And besides, we've got more pressing things to be worried about," Y/N stated.

Jason gave the Omega a curious look, "Like what?"

"Like me having to draft a formal response to the black collective of how I let myself be colonized by a white man," Y/N deadpanned.

"Fuck off," Jason rolled his eyes.

"Are you, a white man, trying to silence a black voice? During Black History Month? I thought black lives mattered."

Jason gave the Omega an unimpressed look, "Y/N, it's April."

"Oh, so black history is only contained to one month?"

"You know, I really can't stand you sometimes," Jason said.

"But, you still love me," Y/N responded, once again mocking the Alpha's words.

Jason felt a smile coming over his face, leaning down to place a kiss against the smaller male's lips, "That I do."

Y/N smiled, not realizing the implication of Jason's words before both of their attentions were pulled to the jerking feeling down below. The Alpha's knot had released, but Jaon's dick was once again standing at attention, clearly ready for another round.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," Y/N groaned.

Jason smiled sheepishly at him, "Sorry, sweetheart. I'm in a rut, and I've got some makeup to do for lost time if I want to get it back to normal. Hope you didn't have any plans for tonight...or tomorrow."

"Fucking hell," Y/N huffed, his head falling back against the pillow.

"Well, can you at least untie me?" Y/N asked, gesturing to his still-bound arms.

"Hmm, nope," Jason denied.

"Fuck you," Y/N scowled.

"That's the plan."

☀️ | Jason Todd/Red Hood | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

305 notes · View notes

getitoutofmymindwrites · 17 hours

Text

The landing | joel miller x f!reader, 13.2k

Summary: You feel him before you see him. He’s still taking up space in your micro-universe. His sole presence creates ripples through the atmosphere as he walks towards you, softly nudging you to turn your head from your spot to look behind you. Or The one where your orbits finally collide for the final showdown.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, NO SPOILER (read A/N), ANGST, cheater!joel, discussions of infidelity, mention of food consumption, yelling, crying, the briefest mention of smut thoughts, sprinkle of fluff (blink and you'll miss it), as always let me know if I missed anything 👀

A/N: Ok, *deep breath* I know I can't make everyone happy unless I write alternate endings 😅 and I understand that infidelity can be a very triggering concept. I gave them the ending I felt they both deserved, but if you're looking for a story where they are at each other's throats for 13k words, maybe this is not for you and you are more than welcome to kindly move on. I won't spoil the ending in the Warnings, so proceed with caution, you know what the main theme is all about. All I can tell you is that this part of the story is divided into two main scenes because I didn't want to drag it out with one little scene after another. *she says after spilling 13k words🙄sorry about that👀* As always, I would love to read your thoughts on the last part and please keep in mind that writing is almost always self-indulgent.

P.S. I want to thank each and every one of you for the love I received for this mini-series, I never thought it would engage so many people. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. You've all been so kind and sweet to me, so this journey filled my heart with joy! I love you all, take care of yourselves and I'll see you -hopefully- in the comments! Oh! My asks are always open if you want to know more about their story. I could even write drabbles or one-shots about anything you'd like to know in particular. Ily, bye 😘

P.S. I deliberately left the last two lines without clarification of who says what, I leave that up to you. 🤍

Dividers by @cafekitsune @saradika-graphics @plum98

previous |

FOUR YEARS AFTER THE FALL

Are you still falling?

You’re not sure anymore. Maybe you’re just used to it. Or maybe you just learned how to fly. It certainly feels like everything has slowed down. Sometimes it feels like floating. As if you’re a feather, so lightweight, swirling around aimlessly. But you can never touch the ground. Gravity can’t quite pull you down. Every time you feel like you’re finally landing, a force of nature pulls you back up.

Maybe it is a soft, warm, summer breeze, a memory of Joel.

Maybe it is a whirlwind, a contact from the lawyers.

Maybe it is a snowstorm, sign the papers, please.

Maybe it is the whispering of a gentle wind, the possibilities of what might have been, or the lack of real closure.

But it’s nice here. Even between the earth and the sky.

You never thought you’d enjoy leaving the big city and making a home for yourself on a ranch. But you loved it. You loved the peace and quiet, you loved this new community of people, you loved taking care of the horses, riding them, being around them. And then there was the house. A place you could almost call home. It was beautiful, rustic, warm, inviting, lacking none of the comforts a modern house needs, because you can’t quite get the big city girl out of you. The entire land had a soft, yellow-golden light enveloping every tree and every rock, everywhere your eyes reached, as if the sun shone differently here.

The days are easy. The chores are more than enough to keep you focused, there’s always something to do around here. It feels good to be busy, to keep your mind from dwelling on the past. You welcome the exhaustion of a full day’s work that accompanies your body when night comes.

Evenings are mostly good. You shower the day off, you cook, you chill on the couch with a good book or a film and more often than not, as the time passes and you feel more comfortable sharing the privacy of your home, you have friends over for dinner and drinks.

Nights though, nights are hard. At night, you pray that you are tired to the point of exhaustion so that you can sleep through it peacefully. Sometimes it works, but most of the time, not so much.

Time has intensified and lessened your emotional burden simultaneously.

The sharp pain that feels like thick acid being poured into you mellows in an inexplicable way. It still hurts, the pain oozing out of your every single pore even in a physical way. Only now, it has transformed into a sweet, slow poison conquering every hollow of your body, every vein leading from your heart to the ends of your limbs.

It’s almost a welcoming feeling, this pain, reminding you that you’re still alive, that he was real, that everything that happened was real. Because sometimes, sometimes, when you let yourself relax, when you let your guard down, all of this feels like a dream. Sometimes, you wake up in the middle of the night, confused, reaching with your hand for the other side of the bed and finding it empty. And for a split second you get that feeling. The feeling of how it used to be with him next to you.

Then you remember.

You know why this is happening and who’s responsible for it. This is a mix-up. This is what your treacherous brain does to mess with your resolve. It blends the bad stuff into the good, creating the strangest of concoctions. The clear image of black and white, neatly and perfectly hung in the center of the walls of your mind is now splashed with colorful memories from your life together, like a Pollock painting. You do your best to resist, to bring back scenes from all the vivid recollections of the night your life changed forever but your uncooperative brain pops another memory up, a good fuckin’ memory, like a projector, illuminating those bare imaginary walls with laughter and touches and whispers and scents and warmth. It’s relentless.

This dichotomy creates an uneasiness inside you, you choose to reject and pretend not to notice. Which in turn leads to self-contempt because, as always you can’t lie to yourself. You may lie to others but deep in your core you have to be honest with yourself. That is something you’re owed. To be aware, present in the reality of your life. So, you know, you know, you just sweep things under the carpet as a copy mechanism. You know what you should do.

You should confront him. You should demand answers and then finally say what you need to say to him. Not for him, not for his sake, but for yours. But you can’t. You've lost count of how many times you've picked up the phone and your thumb hovered over his contact to call him but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. And every time you tried to text him, to start a conversation, it felt too awkward. The only acceptable subject of discussion initiated by you was the progress of the divorce papers. You were unable to even remotely insinuate a more meaningful encounter. And he didn’t make any advances either. Not that you gave him any room to try and talk to you, but still, he seemed more settled with that, rather than not.

Maybe that fact itself was your cue to let it all go. He’s probably moved on. You don’t cheat on someone so blatantly and then want them back. Obviously, this whole delaying of the divorce is a power play, like everything else, it seems.

Good, yeah, that’s it. That’s it.

Now, let go. Move on. You solved it. Let go.

But this annoying little voice is scratching the walls of your weary brain, nudging the limits of the carefully made up serenity that’s hanging by a thread.

You should confront him. For your peace of mind, for your equilibrium.

But it’s nice here. Even between the earth and the sky.

Joel, will you please sign the papers?

It’s early in the evening and you’re in the garden in front of the house near the porch, on your knees, plucking a few weeds from the ground. The fatigue of the day’s work has begun to take its toll on you, your shoulder is slightly trembling as you rest your weight on one palm to dig around with the other. Sweat covers your torso, rolling down between the valley of your breasts and the hollow between your spine, leaving your t-shirt clinging to your skin, your hair sticking to your forehead, which is lightly covered in a thin layer of dirt at some places as you keep wiping your forearm over the little beads of salty water that concentrate over your brows.

You feel him before you see him. He’s still taking up space in your micro-universe. His sole presence creates ripples through the atmosphere as he walks towards you, softly nudging you to turn your head from your spot to look behind you.

There's an overload of sensations before you shift your body around to confirm what you already know in your bones. You can smell him, taste him, feel him on your suddenly tingling skin, all at the same time.

You turn slowly and your breath hitches on your throat. You just stay in place, frozen, time infinitely stretching as you take him in from where you kneel on the ground. He stops abruptly the second his eyes meet yours and you could swear he’s holding his breath, his face completely unreadable.

He looks.. he looks like your Joel and nothing like him simultaneously. Soft yet imposing. Handsome yet battered. Determined yet lost. His clothing is simpler, dark jeans, green flannel over a black t-shirt and laced boots, as if he just returned from a working site. His curls are longer, framing his handsome face in a ridiculously good way, more white hairs nestle in his beard that is not that trimmed. Neither of you speak quite yet, taking each other in.

Your mind, your bizarre, ridiculous mind is working on figuring out what day it is. Why does it matter? Did you have an appointment? This is unexpected and a long time coming all at once, regardless of the day of the week. What comes next? Do you draw up an astrological map to determine if it's a compatible date for you to meet? Get it together.

Your facial expression must be pretty funny because Joel smiles awkwardly while scratching one side of his bearded cheek; hey, it’s me.

No, shit, you mentally respond, as if you could ever forget him. Furious is the word that best describes you because these are his first words? Hey, it’s me? And that feeling escalates into an explosive retort because you now realize that you had expectations. His first words? Who cares what his first words are? Were you expecting a tearful reunion, masterfully staged and executed like a romantic film? The guy betrayed you in your own house, sorry, his house. Wake the fuck up.

“Did you sign the papers?” you spit as you rise from your spot and he reacts as if you have punched him in the stomach. His face falls; you see a series of micro-expressions pass over his features before he settles on the last one. Has he been hurt? Did you hurt his feelings? Did he also have expectations?

“Uh-”, Joel raises his brows in genuine surprise, things probably not going the way he expected or hoped.

“It’s nice to see you, too.”, he replies with mild mockery.

Your eyes snap shut and you laugh in anger, lowering your chin to your chest and then looking back up at him, your eyes blazing, your brows mimicking his previously surprised expression, “Are you serious right now?” you cross your hands defensively over your chest.

You stare at each other for a good minute, both of you taking a moment to compose yourselves and regain your balance.

You break first, dropping your head back to your chest, looking down at the heel of your shoe scraping the ground beneath you, exhaling audibly.

“Hey,” Joel tries again, after speaking your name tenderly, your name on his lips, his head dipping down and to the side to try and get your attention back to him, his gaze filled with a mixture of warmth, regret and fear, “hi.”

You shake your head from side to side in repentance, what a great start this is, you keep thinking, “Hi.” is all you give him, still not looking at him.

“Hi,” he repeats, “it’s really nice to see you, bab-, shit, sorry.”, he winces, covering his mouth with his palm, embarrassment creeping into his features. You let out a quiet laugh, exhaling through your nose. You don’t comment on the slip of endearment that leaves his mouth, you don’t correct him, accepting privately that you liked it, you missed it, you longed for it.

Joel studies your face, but makes no comment on your silence. “You look...” he pauses for a split second before deciding to continue, “you look really good.” He hesitates, he doesn't want his compliment to come across as a feeble attempt to patronize you, because he really means it. You do look good, all sweaty and muddy and human and real. You are real. If he took a few steps forward, he could actually reach out and touch you, feel your skin under his fingertips, smell your heady scent, perhaps discreetly lick the remnants of your sweat from his thumb after carefully removing the strands of hair sticking on your forehead. But he doesn’t do that. He doesn’t do any of that.

You don’t quite know how to respond to that, any answer crossing your mind seems stupid or cheesy or dismissive. How do you respond to a compliment from the man who made you worship in his altar, only to have your faith ripped out of your heart?

His eyes keep roaming over your face, your figure, memorizing everything he can, like a blind man who has finally found his light, while he fidgets with an envelope in his hand which reminds you-

“Did you sign the papers, Joel?”, is what escapes your lips before you can think twice.

“No.” and now it’s his turn to lower his head, his eyes avoiding your gaze, as he looks down at his feet.

“Joel!”, you exclaim infuriated, rolling your eyes at him, knitting your brows together in a sign of frustration.

“No, no, it’s not like that. I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever you want.”, Joel raises a hand in your direction to stop you from what seems to be a fair assumption, his palm up, facing you in an unspoken surrender. “I thought that- me, not signing, was a way of showing you how deeply sorry I am, how much I wanted to fix our marriage, but I understand now,” his voice wavers slightly, “that I need to respect your wishes. It’s the right thing to do. If this is still what you want, I’m gonna sign it.”

You don’t reply to that last part, only pointing out that “You didn’t have to come all this way to tell me that.”

“No, I didn’t.” Joel agrees.

“Then why are you here?” you insist, reluctant to entertain the idea that he has actually come all this way to apologize.

“Because I owe you an explanation.” is his honest and direct answer, sending little jolts of electricity through your nerves.

“Joel..” you sigh in exasperation. Not in warning or frustration, not really, but in something else. A feeling you can’t really put a name to, the closest you can come to describing it is that of a burden, woven deep into your heart, blossoming rapidly with each beat. There are so many things left unsaid; it makes you feel helpless, like you’re drowning. You want the dam you’ve built around your soul over the years to break so everything you've been holding back can finally pour out of you, but there’s just so much of it, of everything, that you’re terrified. Will the overflowing tank of emotions be completely empty? Will there be anything left unsaid? Untouched? What if the remnants left behind keep licking around your wounds, their waves pushing, shaping what’s left of you into something new, unrecognizable?

And what if, the tank will indeed be completely empty? What you’ll be left with, then? Nothing? Just.. empty? Will you remain empty? What, if anything, will take its place? Will you recognize your new self? Will you like yourself? Will you be able to live in harmony with this shell of a person? This you; you know. You hated and pitied and caressed and comforted and forgave and nurtured you into some version of a new you. But this? Everything will be torn apart, the wounds will be freshly opened, accessible to be examined in detail, plucked and bled and bruised in an all-too-familiar way.

Joel’s voice snaps you out of your trance, “No, I do. I owe you more than that, actually, but that’s the least I can do. And I wanna do that while I’m still your husband. I want to explain myself as your husband. Apologize to my wife, as her husband. Then I’m gonna sign anything you want me to.”

“And if I don’t wanna hear what you have to say?”

“Then I’ll just sign the papers and leave you in peace.” Joel confesses in all his honesty.

You just nod, looking down on the ground. You take a deep breath to ground yourself. You can do this. You want to do this. You need to do this.

You walk towards the house and sit down on the steps of the porch, as he looks at you awkwardly, not knowing where to stand. You gesture with a tilt of your head for him to come sit next to you. You can do this. You realize that you didn’t invite him into the house and you feel a bit rude for that, but it's beyond your empathetic capacity to deal with him being here and to let him into the house as well. “I just like it out here, it’s calm and-”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, whatever makes you feel comfortable; I know you don’t want me here any longer than I have to be..” he interrupts you as he sits down next to you, his one side pressing against the end of the stairs, where the railing begins. He places the contract between your bodies, on the wooden floor.

It makes you uncomfortable, his statement, you always want people to feel welcome and relaxed around you. You internally chastise yourself for worrying about his feelings instead of yours, but you can’t help it, it’s embedded in your DNA. “It’s OK, Joel, I don’t mind, we can talk.”

Joel nods, but he remains silent. You don’t break the silence, giving him time to collect his thoughts. He chuckles defeated, shaking his head while rubbing his hand over his face.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, you don’t look that mighty to me anymore.” you blurt out before you can stop yourself and you immediately regret it. It didn’t sound so insulting in your head. You only meant to say that he doesn’t intimidate you anymore. Which is sort of a lie and a truth at the same time. You used to find him imposing, even his mere presence had the ability to make your skin crawl, your heart flutter and your words get catch in your dry throat, you were in awe of him. Every time you laid your eyes at him, even when you were straddling his lap or gazing at his profile as he slept beside you, you always felt as if you were looking up. You admired him.

His heart loses several beats to that. He can read between your lines now. He has lost your respect. Your admiration. The time when you looked up to him in awe is long gone.

“You know, my therapist warned me about this.”, he chuckles bitterly.

“Your-” you can’t hide your shocked expression from him as you search his eyes for any sign of him joking around, but you find none. “You’ve been in therapy?”

“Yeah, I-, I spent two years hating myself,” he chuckles deprecatingly, “and then I realized it was time for me to stop being an arrogant prick, so I spent another two doing it all over again with the help of my therapist.”

You laugh wholeheartedly at that and it’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen in his entire life. “OK, somebody’s off to a good start. Go on.”

“You mean about the therapy?”

“I mean about you admitting you are an arrogant prick”, you say playfully.

He really laughs now, his eyes crinkle up at the sides. You used to love that. You feel your heart warming up. “You can thank Maria for that.”

“For what?”

“For kicking my ass and pushing me to help myself.” Joel admits. “She’s a good friend.”

“Yeah, she is.” you agree through your laughter, the image of Maria actually kicking Joel’s ass is priceless.

“I missed that sound.” Joel is looking at you softly, as if his gaze could break you.

“Hm.” you simply smile at him, not finding it in you to respond with a snide remark. The time for that feels like it has passed, like it’s irrelevant at this point. All you really want is to have an honest conversation, irony be damned.

You both look at your feet in silent consideration for a minute or two. “I thought you’d be mad at me.” Joel reveals.

You exhale through your nose, the edges of your mouth turning up in a gentle smile. “Four years is a long time to be mad at anyone, Joel. Even you don’t have that kind of power over me.”

“Good. I have enough burden on my shoulders as it is..”, he mumbles and you decide to change the subject.

How do you admit that you are still mad at him but in a different way? How do you describe the deep scar his existence has carved into your soul making it almost unbearable to even exist without him? How do you explain that you’ll always carry him with you, no matter what? How do you instill in him that you still believe in the best version of him, the best version you know he can be, the best version of him you once lived with. Yes, you’re not mad at him for the reasons he thinks you are. You’re mad at him because the way he made you love him is stronger than any hurt he’s ever caused you.

“So, what did your therapist warn you about?”

“She, uh- she tried to prepare me for this.”

“Oh? What did she say?”

“That I should not be prepared.”, he laughs in earnest. “That I should not obsess about what I want to say and just be open and have an honest interaction.”

“I like her, already.” you say with a straight face.

He smiles softly, looking down at his boots, while he rests his elbows on his knees, one palm encircling the other. “Yeah… I had some digging to do; I still do for that matter and will be for a long time it seems.”

“Anything you wanna share?” you reply, raising an eyebrow as if you had no idea why he was here.

“Oh, boy-” he squirms in his seat, already overwhelmed by the turn of the conversation, his chest almost vibrating with anxiety, he can barely swallow, small beads of sweat starting to form around his temples. You reluctantly reach for his forearm, trying to calm him down. “Hey, Joel?”

His whole body stiffens at your touch and he wishes his clothes would evaporate so he could feel your skin against his. He fixes his eyes on your delicate fingers lightly squeezing his tight muscles underneath the fabric. “The worst part has already happened four years ago, so-” you shrug, “just breathe.” Joel keeps his eyes on your hand, his heart rate dropping slightly; you ground him. You retract your arm and keep your hands to yourself in an effort to maintain a respectable distance between you. You shouldn’t have touched him at all.

“I think- I think I understand now.” he begins, still feeling the ghost of your touch on his forearm. “How I made you feel, what your words meant. You always did that, you know. And I found it so fascinating and so exhausting at the same time.”

You look at him, confused. Joel continues, “You always chose your words carefully. You had a reason for every single thing you said. In retrospect, I realized that you were handing me everything on a silver platter, but I was too self-absorbed to see it at the time.”

You nod in agreement, gesturing with your head for him to keep going.

Joel takes a deep breath, holding it inside his lungs for a while. His exhalation is controlled, measured. “Fuck. Okay. It was not just the fact itself. It was not just the cheatin’.”

Your stomach clenches violently at his words. The time has finally come and although you know what happened, you where there, when the words come out of Joel’s mouth it's as if you're pulled back to that threshold all over again. It really happened. You feel your hands sweating. “Go on.”, you pronounce carefully, already anxious your voice is going to betray you. You can do this.

“I don’t want to sound all full of myself-” Joel hesitates.

“You won’t.” you interrupt him with conviction. The truth has never frightened you. You welcome it. It feels like a form of catharsis, it feels like you’re finally being seen. Every nerve in your body is on fire. You’re ready for this, for the truth, if only he gives it to you. Please, set me free.

“I was your everything.” he whispers, almost embarrassed, his eyes not meeting yours. You don’t respond to that, not until he looks at you, although the admission shoots straight through your heart. You stare at the side of his face, almost forcing him to turn to you. He does.

“You were.” Simple. True. Clear as the light of day.

“And I ripped that from you.”

“You did.”

“In the worst possible way.”

“Hmhm.”, you don’t trust the stability of your voice.

“And no matter what I say, I can never take back what I did. I humiliated you, our home, our relationship, everything. I-” his brows furrow in an expression of disgust, “I disrespected myself. I burned everything down. I left nothing for you to hold on to, nothing for me to hope for, nothing.”

His chin trembles and his voice wavers as he continues. “The words to describe how sorry I am have not yet been invented. And even if they had, they still couldn’t take the pain away; what’s done, is done.”

He closes his eyes and rests his head on the railing. “I don’t know what I wish for anymore. That you had never met me, so you could be spared all this pain? But I can’t. I can’t wish that, because I’m so grateful to have met you. I married you, I had you. That is what has comforted me all these years, what has got me through all those sleepless nights.” He looks absolutely devastated, desperate.

It feels genuine, because he’s not directing it at you, he’s not trying to convince you, he’s not trying at all. “I have not thought about my pain or what I want from all this for a long time. All I pray for is-” his glistening eyes are searching frantically on the ground, his brows knitted together in a painful grimace. You rest your head on the palm of your hand, your elbow on your knee. Watching this moment like an outside observer, you realize that he's trying to live up to your standards, reminding you of a child trying to impress his parents, only to fail regardless of the outcome.

“Look, Joel, couples break up, divorce, all over the world, all the time. And I guess, they all thought their partners were their everything until they finally weren’t.”, you rationalize, putting everything that has happened into some kind of perspective. It is not the end of the world. It is the end of your world. He doesn’t have to carry this burden on his shoulders for eternity. All you need from him is to understand, to acknowledge what he's done to you, how broken you’ve been.

But if he acknowledges that, if he truly comprehends the tremendous pain he’s put you through, won’t all that anguish be transferred to him? Isn't it unbearable for a truly repentant man to know that he has deliberately caused so much pain?

“But, you see; I wanted that, I needed to be your everything.”

“It certainly fed your ego..” you grin at him.

“No, no- I craved that- that look on your face when your eyes were on me, like there was nothing else, no one else around you, but me. You drove me to be better, to move forward; I felt I had a purpose. You were my purpose.”

“Well I didn’t do much of a job then, did I?” you smile defeated.

“No, honey, this-” he’s determined to make you understand that it wasn't your fault, even if it is the last thing he is going to do. He licks his lips trying to formulate his thoughts, “-what happened, had nothing to do with you, I- I was just- I got in my head..”

You shake your head dismissively, “It’s a terrible burden to put people on a pedestal and expect them to-”

“But you see, baby, that’s the thing. You didn’t.”Joel dismisses your comment and if a bucket of ice-cold water was thrown over your head you wouldn’t feel so frozen. You search his eyes for meaning, because deep down it stings to hear that you could give more. Is that what he’s saying? You didn’t love him enough? Joel catches on and rushes to explain. “You-” god this is so hard, he’s struggling, can’t he just rip his heart open and let you examine it? “You loved me so much, baby and you never asked for anything in return. You let me be who I was. You accepted me completely. You set me free.” His eyes are blown wide, burning into yours with intensity. You look so lost, how does all this fit in with what he did then?

“Darlin’,” he expands further, “we live in a competitive world. Everyone aims to control each other, from business partners to lovers and spouses; everyone manipulates, everyone tries to tell you where to look, what to do, how to act, how to fuck, how to love. Except for you. You let me be. You put your heart in my hands and you set me free. And I took advantage of that and I am truly sorry. I’m more sorry than you’ll ever know. That’s how fucked up I am.” you look at him dumbfounded.

“I can’t connect the dots; I don’t get it, Joel, I’m sorry, I-” you run your fingers through your hair, scratching your scalp in frustration. What does he mean?

Joel winces mid-sentence because he can’t escape what’s coming. This is his last resort. And he knows it is going to sound cruel and he doesn’t even mean the first part the way you're going to perceive it, but for lack of better words, for lack of the better person he could have been, a person who should have never put you in this position in the first place, here goes.

“She made me feel wanted; you made me feel free.”,

he spits out in a hurry, praying to whatever god is listening, that you won’t even catch it, knowing full well that these may be the last words you'll ever let him speak to you.

You are utterly, completely, perfectly shocked.

Then you feel it for the first time in what feels like ages. That old friend consuming you. Rage. It burns your lungs, twists your guts and pierces your heart like a thousand needles. Everything becomes crystal clear. You’re so infuriated, that your mind goes blank. A million words and nothing at all come to your mind simultaneously.

“Let me- let me rephrase that, because actually it was never even about her, I just-” Joel begins, in a vain attempt to stop the tide from crushing you both.

Your palms become clenched fists in front of your mouth, pressing against it, crushing the velvety skin of the inside of your lips against your teeth until you draw blood, in an effort to control yourself. You inhale sharply, keeping your eyes fixed on the land in front of you, blurred by the tears gathering in your waterline.

“She- what?” are the only words you manage to choke out.

“Baby, it doesn’t matter, it was never about her, she was a means to an end and-” your eyes bulge out of your sockets at the statement, “I know- I know how that sounds- just-” his palms come together in a prayerful gesture, begging you to give him a chance to explain.

“A means to an- what the fuck are you talking about, Joel?” the veins on your forehead swell under your skin, creating a map of the river of wrath flowing aggressively through your body.

“It was never an affair sweetheart, but a transaction; one I initiated. She was only a boost to my ego.”

..she made me feel wanted..

..a boost to my ego..

It's all starting to make sense now, and it's the last thing you expect to be confronted with. You've always imagined either a heated affair, a secret love story, him realizing he had found his soul mate in someone else, or him getting bored with you, finding you too much or too emotional or too unlovable. It turns out that you were accused of the one thing you never were.

“Are you-, oh god,” you can hear your heart pounding in your ears now and it takes every ounce of strength not to vomit, “are you saying that you fucked someone else; you fucked your secretary for fuck’s sake, you fuckin’ cliché of a man, because I wasn’t jealous of you?”. Your throat is so swollen, you try to scream your words at him but they only come out in wrenched whispers.

You stand up abruptly, dizziness causing you to close your eyes tightly as you see a million white dots behind the blackness of your eyelids. Your whole body vibrates with rage. You steady yourself on the railing and then begin to pace back and forth, your hands unable to stay motionless, but moving over your face, through your hair, lowering and squeezing the sides of your waist as you lean slightly forward in a subconscious way to soothe yourself.

“Oh my god, oh my fucking god,” you laugh hysterically now, as angry tears run down your cheeks, as if you've been let in on an inside joke. “It’s my fault, everything is my fault-”

Joel is frozen in place, he’s not sure if he should get up and try to reason with you or stay where he is.. or run for the hills. He’s witnessing the unleashing of a caged animal. His tongue feels heavy and numb in the cavern of his mouth but he dares to speak again, “That’s the exact opposite of what I said, sweetheart,” he tries to explain in vain, “I’m sorry if that’s what I-” but you’re not listening to a single word he utters.

“People kept telling me, urging me on, all my life;” and you slap your palms on the sides of your thighs, looking at his direction, but not really looking, “I should be more controlling, more pushy, more..” your voice begins to fade, muttering to yourself through your teeth. “They warned me, you know, that the lack of pressure in any kind of relationship would be perceived as a lack of interest.”

Don't trust completely; hold something back; men like the illusion of power; show them you need them; make them jealous; be jealous, like a manual to a pre-installed setting.

Do you agree to the Terms & Conditions?

Press ‘Enter.’

“But I didn’t listen. I never listened. Because in what world do we choose a leash over freedom?” You turn to look at him now, addressing him as if you were talking to a third party, an outsider, asking for advise or affirmation.

Maria’s words come back to Joel’s mind, words that he had long forgotten about, finally fitting like missing pieces of a puzzle to the bigger picture.

“Maybe the wrong Miller is on a leash..”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Means that freedom is for those who can bear it.”

“I was really stupid, was I not? What on earth made me think that this time would be any different, what made me think that you’d be any different? You’re just- you’re just another man-” you spit your vile angrily as your eyes sweep over him. The look in his eyes is devastated, he feels shuttered, reduced to nothing.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid little girl. When the fuck will I learn? When the fuck am I going to accept that I don't really belong? When?”

Joel is staring at you bewildered, he never felt more helpless in his life. A thousand new thoughts and questions form in your head, things you didn’t even begin to imagine would cross your mind.

“Did you use her?” you ask with renewed vigor, a surge of energy running through your body.

Joel’s cheeks burn with humiliation but he has already admitted it once, what will it do to him to say it one more time? “Yes, I never had any feelings f-”

“No,” you interrupt impatiently, you don't care about his feelings right fuckin' now, “that night, did you use her? On purpose?”

Joel looks lost for a second but the cogs in his head finally turn and “NO! No baby, I wasn’t even aware of you coming home earlier than expected, no. Don’t even entertain this idea; it wasn’t intentional, I swear to god.”

Oh. There’s a new question for Joel. Why did you leave your business trip early? He had never thought about it before, solely focused on everything else that had happened, which now made him wonder, “Did you- did you know?”

“What?” you frown, lost in your own thoughts, not following his line of logic.

“Did you know? Is that why you came back early from your trip?”

You’re still a bit too far gone in your head to think clearly and try to prevent the next question from coming, “Of course I didn’t know, Joel, did it look like I did?” is all you say with a bite, annoyed.

“Then why-” Joel insists, pressuring you for an answer, but he doesn’t get to finish his sentence.

“I- fuck- I need a minute.” you declare and start to walk towards the house.

Joel waited on that porch for almost an hour, watching the sun set behind the mountain, afraid to move, barely breathing in case you stormed out and threw him back where he came from as if him standing still would somehow make him part of the landscape; as if he belonged.

And you certainly delivered.

He hears the screen door open, his back still to the house. You are standing behind him, your arms crossed stiffly over your chest, your face tilted down, to avoid his gaze. He could see the red-rimmed and swollen eyes of yours, despite your efforts to hide them.

“I can’t do this-”

“Please,” his whole face contorts in agony, “please, hear me-” you both speak at the same time.

“-tonight.”

“What?” his voice matching the look of confusion on his face.

“Maybe another time, but not tonight.”

“I-” he doesn’t know how to articulate his thoughts without sounding like an idiot. He drove all this way, four hours straight, to finally get things straight. His brain has short-circuited, unable to put a plan into action. Should he check into a hotel or a motel or whatever the fuck is around here in the middle of nowhere? Should he go back to his place? Do you really want to talk again? You sort of said you did. You said maybe. Fuck. What does he do?

But honestly, what did he expect? That this would be over in the course of one evening? Of course he would have to come back. His eyes are fixed on yours like a deer caught in the headlights. “I came all this way-” he mumbles, choking on the last part, already regretting the words that came out of his mouth.

“Well, too bad.” you spit emotionless as you turn and head for the safety of your house, leaving him stunned on the goddamn porch.

Joel returned the next evening, but you weren't there. He made the four hour journey and came back empty-handed. And you weren't there the next evening, or the evening after that. But he kept on driving the miles, hot wheels under the Texas sun. He didn’t check in anywhere near your small town. He went back home and then back to you again.

The last time he found nothing but a closed door, he finally got the message, so the next time he left the house, before he turned on the ignition, he texted you, as a sign of respect for your boundaries.

Is it all right if I come and see you?

Backspacebackspacebackspace

Is it OK if I come and talk?

And the answer was

Not today.

So, every day he texted you. He didn’t mean to be intrusive, he just wanted to remind you that you were never far from his thoughts, that he was always ready and eager to finish what he started.

You denied him for quite some time. You couldn’t bring yourself to face him again. The confessions he made have knocked you off your axis. Just when you finally felt like everything was falling into place, he dropped this bombshell, making you rethink everything you thought you knew and had sorted out in your mind. You just couldn’t wrap your head around what you’d heard coming out of his mouth. How could he think like that? Why couldn’t he just talk to you? You used to talk about everything; what the fuck happened? How did you not see that coming?

You were sure that he would give up, that he would stop bothering to contact you at all. Was it the monster of self-deprecation? Was it a deep disappointment in human beings and their general lack of persistence in trying to nurture and repair a relationship, or at least trying to give it a proper closure? You didn’t give it much thought afraid of the answer you might get. But you kept saying Not today, until one day, for some reason-

Can we talk?

Yes.

Joel’s heart is beating through his chest so rapidly, he has to cough to regain some of his composure. He almost drops his phone, trying to confirm the most convenient time for you before you change your mind.

That was the first Yes after the day you saw him again. You weren’t sure what you wanted to talk about; if you could pick up exactly where you left off. You weren’t even sure you could look him in the eye again, but you had to see this through.

When you hear the sound of his engine and tires on the dirt road, you take a deep breath and walk out of the house to wait for him on the porch.

“Come on in, I’m cooking dinner.” you announce as you open the screen door for him to enter the house.

“Are you sure?”, Joel is taken aback, he thought the inside of your house was strictly off-limits to him. You were also cooking dinner as if he was an old friend visiting you. He couldn’t help but wonder if he should lower his defenses or not but with the way you looked tonight you didn’t give him much of a choice.

You’re wearing a pair of warm cream jeans, paired with a white front tie shirt, the first few buttons left open, giving him a glimpse of your tanned sternum. It almost looks like a man’s shirt, just messily tied up over your soft skin, revealing bits of your stomach. Could it be another man’s shirt?

You are barefoot. The nails of your toes are painted in a fresh glossy black color. Your hair is casually tied up in a messy bun, loose strands falling around your beaming face. Joel has to restrain himself from pushing you against the wall and fucking you on the spot, by clenching and unclenching his fists. His mouth is salivating at the sight of you, excitement building in his groin. It's been so long since he's felt this way, a different kind of hunger is growing in him at a rapid pace, as if something buried deep inside his masculinity has just awakened from hibernation.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you quirk back at him, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, what you’re both doing. “I’m starving. Coming?” you leave him at the entrance and go back into the house.

“You have a beautiful home.”, Joel admits as he takes in his surroundings, thinking that this is going better than he expected. He also can't help but prepare himself for the fact that this might not end the same way.

“Thank you.” you laugh nervously.

“What?”, he catches the note of disbelief in your voice. “I'm serious, the light is just right, it’s open and warm; it actually reminds me of you.” he says matter-of-factly.

“No, no, I know you mean it, it’s just- I guess it’s high praise, coming from you.” you admit. You always admired what he did for a living and how good he was at it and him seeing your place for the first time gave you another reason to feel kind of nervous.

“Oh, come on, none of that now.” he dismisses the compliment, his voice wavering slightly at the praise.

“Well it’s true, you are excellent at what you do, I mean, the house you built is a work of art and that’s a fact.”

“Which one?”, although he knows exactly which one, he presses on.

“The one we used to live in, together.” You can’t call it your house. You cannot. The mere thought of it makes your tongue feel like it’s on fire.

“Oh.”, Joel smiles as he presses his lips together in a thin line, “You mean our house. It was built out of love, that's why. It's the one I'm most proud of.”

“Hm.”, is all you give him. Déjà vu brings back memories out of the closet -pun intended- for both of you.

“Ok, now you really have to tell me. What is it?”, Joel crosses his forearms over his chest. He has to know.

“What do you mean?”, you try to buy some more time, cause you’re not so sure you want to go in there.

“You had the exact same reaction when I mentioned that, four years ago.”

“Ah, that.”

“Yeah, that.”

“It’s just- it always felt like it reflected your personality rather than mine. Or at least ours.”

Joel looks at you perplexed.

“I’m not complaining, I mean, how many people can claim that their husband built them a house the size of a small hotel as a wedding present?” you chuckle while you continue as nonchalantly as you can muster, “I would have lived in a cave with you, Joel, you didn’t have to go to these lengths to house two people. If you want my honest opinion, this was an ego project. I let it slide because it made you happy. And I liked you happy.” Joel looks stunned, his eyes darting back and forth between yours.

“Baby, I- I wanted to make you happy, to give you the best I could-”

“Joel, I’m not judging you. I am not. But you didn’t show me a single blueprint while you were designing the damn thing. You didn’t ask me what I wanted or how I imagined it. Sure, you equipped it with all the best stuff money could buy, but you never asked me what I thought about it. Not really.”, you see the hurt in his eyes and it unsettles you, but now the rabbit is out of the hat. “Again, I’m not judging you and I’m not being ungrateful, all I’m saying is that for some reason you needed your shinny new wife to live in a shinny new castle. It was a prestige thing. Just think about it.”

“Jesus..” Joel mutters, pinching the sides of his forehead with one hand, feeling defeated.

“Hey,” you give him a wry look, “I tried to avoid answering that question for four years. You were the one who insisted.” you defend yourself, clearly amused by his reaction.

“What else do I need to know?”, Joel wonders in a desperate manner.

“Well.. for how long can you keep coming back?” you joke absentmindedly.

“For the rest of my life..” Joel answers a little too quickly, not a hint of playfulness in his voice.

Your heart tightens at his eagerness, forcing you to admit a consideration that you have had more than a few times before. “You know,” you look over at him, lost in thought, almost like reminiscing, “sometimes I wish I had met you before your company took off.” You snap out of your daydream and consciously look at him and he looks pained as if some kind of realization has hit him. You change the subject for the sake of both of you. “Anyway, speaking of which, how is work? I heard you closed that deal, after all.” you grin mischievously.

“Yeah, I did.”, his voice takes on a strange timbre, almost like regret. But you’re not so sure about anything these days, so you let it pass. He puts the envelope with the contract on the counter in the kitchen and sits down in the chair next to the table already set for dinner.

“Good, that’s good. Let me guess, you’re all over it? First in, last out? Is it almost done?” you word vomit to cover your nervousness.

“Uh,” Joel rubs the back of his neck, “I wouldn’t know.” is all he gives you, clearly trying to avoid getting involved in the discussion.

“Um, you don’t know?”, you laugh lightly in confusion. “How is that possible?”, you ask stirring the vegetables in the pan.

“I’m not involved in the project and I have no idea about the status of the construction;” Joel answers your question and continues, revealing, “I quit. Sold my shares and got out.”

“Yeah,” you draw the vowels, still not looking in his direction, “right. Big, mighty Joel Miller left his enterprise-” you laugh mockingly, but you are met with silence. “You’re joking, right?” You turn to look at him, not believing what you have just heard. You feel your blood freeze in your veins.

Joel shakes his head in denial, “I’ve actually left the city and the only reason I haven’t sold every asset in my name is in case you want to claim any of them. They’re all yours if you want ‘em.” Your mouth is slightly agape, as you try to process what has just been delivered to you.

You open your mouth to protest but he beats you to it, by raising his hand to stop you. “I know you don’t want anything from me, but that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want them either. Not without you. Just take them. Burn them for all I care, liquidate them and use the money as you see fit.”, Joel insists, trying to find ways to convince you.

“You can do that yourself, Joel.” is all you say; you don’t give a damn about his money. Joel nods and leaves it at that, he knows better than to talk about money right now.

You’re curious where he lives now, but you’re not sure it’s appropriate to ask, so you don’t. You prepare dinner and make small talk about simple things like your lives over the past four years. Joel asks you about the ranch, the horses, the chores; you ask him about Tommy and Maria, their newborn son, whom you haven't had a chance to meet yet. None of you dare to break the bubble of normality in which you have effortlessly found yourselves.

It feels like coming home after a long day, the way you both fall into a comfortable silence. Joel speaks your name softly, drawing your attention and your gaze back to him. “What are we doing here?”

“We’re eating?” Just a little longer, let me have it just a little longer.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “no, I mean, what are we doing?” he gestures with his fingers between him and you.

You look at him and then at your plate, playing around with your food, lost in thought. How do you acknowledge that? How do you confess that you’re trying to stretch time? How do you admit that you’re scared out of your mind of how it's all going to end? How do you even come to terms with the fact that you’re not sure you want any of this to end? How do you accept how natural it feels to have him back in your life? How do you admit that after four years the pain has never stopped, but the force, the roughness of it has changed into something softer, yet persistent; never quite going away, lingering.

How do you admit that all the good memories are emerging, because that’s what the mind does, that’s how it protects you, that’s how it helps you survive another day, that’s how it tricks you into falling back into a comfortable routine with him. Even if what binds you together now is his betrayal. How do you admit that you’re afraid of what will become of you once you've finished confessing your truths?

Will he cease to exist for you? Will you cease to exist for him? Will he ever bother to contact you again? Do you really want him to? Will you matter to him or will he move on, start again and shake off the last vestiges of your life together?

Or maybe- maybe he has moved on with his life and that's why he's doing all this, putting all this effort into it. Maybe he is preparing a new, clear path for himself and whoever is in his life right now. Is it her? Is it still, her?

You’re spiraling, lost in your thoughts, biting your lower lip anxiously, like a snake eating its own tail. “Baby?” his baritone voice snaps you out of it, he must have called you several times before you heard him, suddenly aware of hot, fat tears streaming down your face, his thumbs gently brushing them from your cheeks.

You let out a shuddering breath; it’s the first time he’s touched you, in so, so long. And here he is again. The familiar, old friend. He’s pounding on your door now, relentless as he is, screaming for you to let him in, lead the way, take charge, take care of you. You can almost feel his maniacal banging, vibrating through your chest, let me in, let me in, let me in.

Let me in, better angry than scared.

Better angry than scared.

Your shoulders slump, your head feels unbearably heavy. The world has stopped moving. The world is moving too fast. You savor his features as he leans further in, his intoxicating scent filling your nostrils, his eyes pleading, the brown of his irises inviting you to let him in. Joel’s face is that of a man still in love as he continues to caress your skin and you let him.

You let him, because you are a weak person.

You let him because you have been deprived of his touch, of any touch really, for far too long.

You let him because you want to have something for yourself, selfishly.

You let him, because for once you just want to take. Take, take, take.

You let him because you just want to be held and touched and loved.

And even though your mind knows that you shouldn’t want all that from him, your heart allows you that little moment.

“Joel, I’m tired.” you begin, your voice breaking as fresh tears run down your face and onto his thumbs. “Tired to my bones. All I want is to be honest with each other. Do you think we can do that? Can we talk like two adults with nothing left to lose? Can we just be truthful to each other? I know there’s too much history between us, too much hurt and resentment but we both have to try and put it all behind us. I can’t go on like this.”

There’s a stillness in him, realization and clarity dawning on him. He thinks he understands now and it shocks him somehow, as a fact, that there are still things to uncover, to revel in, to acknowledge. Every time he thinks he’s reached the end of this journey, a new sun rises over the horizon.

You don’t need the specifics of his action, at least not right now, or not anymore. What you need is closure. True, honest closure. And that can only come from him baring himself to you. “Yeah, yeah, we can do that. We can do anything you want, baby.”, he squeezes his eyes shut, knowing where to begin, but resisting the thought. He leans back in his seat, dropping his hands from your face as he lets out the breath he seems to be holding in and begins.

“Remember that night before your business trip when you came to my office?”

“Uh, yeah? I guess.”, what a strange thing to mention, you think confused. “What about it?”

“You came to me for sex.”, Joel says bluntly, no need to beat around the bush. This is it. This is how he loses you. Once again.

You stare at him and then, for some reason, look down in embarrassment. You’ve fucked him in almost every way you can think of and now the very admission of that fact makes you feel like an exposed nerve. It dawns on you, how far away this era has slipped away. You feel vulnerable as if you’re talking to a total stranger about your most intimate moments. At the same time, you still know exactly how to touch him, how to please him and a light warmth begins to shimmer inside you.

“Well, that’s one way of putting it, but- yeah..”, you admit, still nervously picking at your food with your fork.

Joel sees your apprehension but he presses on. This is what you asked for. “And I refused you.” The look on your face betrays your confusion. Where is he going with this? Only now, he sees more. He can finally see more. The hurt. The disappointment. “What happened next?” is his next question and does he really think that you can remember all these years later? Does he honestly believe that you can recall yourself leaving his office defeated and crying yourself to sleep? “I don’t remember.” you lie, shrugging your shoulders as convincingly as you can muster.

“You said you loved me and then you left.”, Joel reminds you.

“You- you remember all that?”, your eyes are wide and the look on your face vulnerable, Joel wants to pause it all and hold you in his arms.

“I can’t seem to forget anything about you,” he reveals, “believe me, I’ve tried.”

“What’s your point?”

“Why did you do that?”

“Uh.. why did I do what?”, you narrow your eyes in confusion.

His eyes are piercing yours, provoking you to figure it out on your own.

“Loved you?” He shakes his head almost imperceptibly.

Your eyes widen again, in surprise this time, as you finally see what he means.

“Walked away?” You’re fucking shocked to the core, your voice choked, you’re not sure you spoke out loud.

“Why didn’t you insist?”

Your mouth is wide open, you’re speechless, you flatter your eyelids in search of the right words. This is your second encounter and once again he says what you least expect him to say.

“You refused” you remind him now, “and I respected that.”, your hand moves to rest on your chest, palm open, to calm your racing heart.

“I didn’t want you to.”

“You know how that sounds, don’t you?”, you mock with a nervous laugh.

“Oh, please,” Joel is quick to respond, his brows knitted in a dismissive frown, “like you could ever force yourself on me.”

You genuinely are at a loss for words, your gaze unable to stay in one place, your mind running a million miles an hour.

Apparently you both are, because Joel is no better at explaining how he feels. “I wanted you to-”, he stops, his eyes still searching yours for the right words, pleading with you to feel him.

Oh my god. Oh. My. God.

It dawns on you. All at once. You see it all playing out. You know exactly how this conversation is going to go. “-claim you? You wanted me to claim you?”, your voice rises, as does your tone. You feel the presence of your abandoned friend again. You don’t want him here. But he creeps in through your veins, nonetheless. He is not giving up. If the pounding doesn’t work then he’ll poison you, slowly and persistently.

“From who? You were supposed to be mine!”, you exclaim exasperated, immediately correcting yourself “-not that I owned you, you know what-”

“That! That’s what I’m talking about!” Joel points his finger at you, “That’s what I needed. To be yours!”

“But you were! Are we really haggling over semantics? Of course you were mine! I just never wanted you to feel suffocated by me. You were not my possession Joel, you were my partner!”

“I swear to you, I would die a happy man, baby.”

“I- I tried so hard to control myself-” you mutter to yourself, rolling your eyes back to your head as you shake it in denial, “-all that hunger inside of me, eating me up-”

“What?” is Joel’s turn to look like a lost puppy. What the fuck is going on here?

“You,” you point a finger at him, “you were my first and last thought every passing day, it wasn’t even healthy anymore, Joel. But- I saw that look in your eyes sometimes, a hunger, one I thought mirrored mine and then it was gone in the blink of an eye and I thought that something was holding you back; I- I was holding you back. I thought- maybe I was undeserving..” you divert your eyes from him, embarrassed at your feeling of inadequacy, “So, I accepted what you gave me if it meant I could have any part of you.”

“Oh, baby..” Joel’s hiding his face in his palms and his heart breaks as he realizes where you both stand. How did the two of you get to this point? How could his judgment be so clouded, how could he be so blind to what was happening under his own roof? How could he be so arrogant as to seek validation, one he didn't even need, from someone else? Someone whose validation he didn't even care about. It didn't matter to him. She didn’t matter to him. How could he not sense the insecurity tantalizing your very core to the point of feeling inadequate? If only you had told him sooner.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you mirror his thoughts with your voice.

“What should I say to you? I couldn’t put it into words, even now I'm not sure I can. It was an all-consuming feeling, an absolute necessity, an overwhelming need that was impossible to handle. I wasn’t mentally or emotionally prepared to deal with it. I loved you with such force that it became an obsession. I couldn’t even entertain the idea that you might not want me back in the same way. I felt helpless, vulnerable. How could I come to terms with this? With the realization that I had fucked someone else just to get a rise out of you or to prove to myself that I didn't need you that much after all?”

Joel’s palms are clenched into fists on his thighs, trying to keep himself from pressing his lips against yours. Feelings and desires that had been buried in his subconscious for too long came back as he tried to make you understand.

“A r- so, you did fuck her on our bed on purpose.”

“You asked me that before, darlin’, I promise you I did not.”

“Then how would you provoke me if you didn’t mean for me to find out?” you look at him incredulously.

“I-” Joel winces, “it wasn’t a conscious thought, I just kept fantasizing about you finding out and burning the house down for me and that single image made me so h-” Joel shuts his mouth abruptly, not the best idea to describe to you how fuckin’ hard he got, fantasizing about you while fucking someone else. You, bursting into the bedroom all raging and furious, turning the whole place upside down reclaiming what was rightfully yours.

Him.

What a sick fuck he was. “I swear to you, no. I’m not that fucked up. It was a gigantic lack of judgment, I was fuckin’ drunk, my mind was a mess at that point. That whole week was-” he’s biting his tongue hard to stop himself while rubbing his forehead with his fingers, “I was just being an idiot.”

“The week I was gone?”

“Yes.”

“What about it?”

“Nothing, ‘snothing.” and he doesn’t elaborate. “Just a bad fuckin’ week.”

The atmosphere suddenly feels suffocating, as if all the words that have spilled out of both your mouths are hovering over your heads like a black cloud. You need some air to clear your mind, so you make your way out of the kitchen without looking back and walk slowly to the porch, sitting on the steps at the bottom of the stairs. You know he will follow. Your bare feet touch the soft soil beneath you and you try to ground yourself through the little patch of earth you call your own. It doesn’t quite work. There’s a beautiful golden glow, a last gift from the parting sun, warming your soul. Everything is going to be all right.

“Strange fantasies we both had.” you say as Joel seats down next to you, the contract once again a barrier between you. “You kept fantasizing about me finding out about your affair-”.

“It wasn’t an affair-” Joel corrects you. “Fine, fine. You imagined that, while I kept fantasizing me holding you so tightly while we fucked that our flesh became one; that’s how deep I needed you inside me, that’s how obsessively I wanted to carry you with me all the time, isn’t that totally fucked up?” you laugh dejectedly.

“I guess we are the same kind of fucked up. If only we could admit it to each other..”

“Did you really feel that I didn’t love you enough?” you whisper, almost too scared to be heard and to get an answer.

“I think we loved each other too much. I think we were both too afraid of losing each other. I think,” Joel pauses for a moment to gather his thoughts and calm his voice, “in our efforts to keep each other we did the exact opposite. More me than you, for sure. I have handled things badly and badly is an understatement.”

“You were always so patient with me. You’d always wait for me to come to you, to take my time. I needed the savage in you, or I thought I did at the time. That desperate thing I felt creeping out of you in stolen glances or bitten lips between your teeth, or when we fucked; no one has ever fucked me like you did. I did see all of you then, you know. And I think you saw all of me. If I made you feel confident or safe enough, you would have talked to me. And if I wasn’t so self-absorbed I would have asked.”

You never thought you’d hear these words from Joel, but all this time of self-reflection has changed him in a way that reminds you of the Joel you fell in love with. The one you could see behind all those layers of self-protection, the one you’d always hoped would emerge for you. And then he goes on, and you wish you knew what was coming so you could protect your heart from being torn to shreds.

“Maybe-” he closes his eyes looking pained, “maybe I was a narcissist. Maybe you gave me all you had and I kept wanting more, maybe I needed every part of you for myself. Maybe I needed you on your knees, on a leash, at my mercy, just to have the illusion of the certainty that you would never leave me. Maybe freedom is for those who can bear it, after all. Hell, maybe I was the one who needed the leash in the end. Maybe you gave me too much credit, my love, when you deemed me worthy of freedom.”

His words are earth-shuttering, obliterating, final. There’s nothing left to be said, at least nothing of substance. Final. The fucking word plays over and over in your head. Final. This is final. You could swear that you have felt every possible kind of pain during these four long years but new depths of agony are being discovered right now. The acid in your stomach makes your throat constrict. You feel petrified.

Joel can sense your distress, his words have been of no comfort to you. Your skin looks pale, covered with a thin layer of cold sweat; you look physically ill. Your forearms rest on your knees and he gently cups your elbow to check in on you. Are you OK? You smile weakly at him, the expression not reaching the corners of your eyes.

“You know I would give anything to take it all back, right?”

Your laughter is more lively now, not with malice or sarcasm, but with a sense of humor.

“Yeah, yeah, I think I do.”, you shake your head in twisted amusement, tilting your head up, to let the last rays of the sun warm your face, maybe bring back some of your lost color. It's getting dark now, the day is coming to an end, the curtains of the last sunlight are almost closed. Your eyes are closed too, your head still tilted back as you laugh to yourself, “You did that backwards, too, you know.”

“What?”

“You have burned everything to the ground, only to realize that you want to get it all back in one piece. I mean it’s- it’s-” you struggle to find the right words but Joel offers one of his own.

“Ridiculous..”

“I was gonna say pointless.. But that’s the thing, Joel. Choosing to be with someone is like faith. You believe because you just know. You don't have to find evidence to prove your choice at every turn, otherwise it’s just exhausting. You choose to trust yourself.”

“Trust me as your partner, you mean, not yourself.”

“Joel, it was never about trusting you..”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand..”

“I’m not sure how to explain it- uh..”, you raise your shoulders and your brows in unison as you shake your head slightly, searching for the words. “Trust is a personal journey. ‘Trust’ doesn't mean ‘trust in you’, I’m not trusting you. No one can be sure of anyone. ‘Trust’ means that I have faith in myself, that even if you hurt me, even if you abandon me, I will not fall apart. And..” you shrug your shoulders, hugging yourself with your hands, “look at me, Joel..”, you finish, suggesting that you’re still here, still standing.

“I am, baby; I am..” Joel replies, taking in the sight of you as if it were the last time he’ll ever have the chance to, utterly compelled by your inner glow.

“I’m not mad at you Joel, not anymore. And I believe you, I really do. But I can’t get that scene out of my head. I just can’t. I can still hear the sounds, I can even recall the way you smelled when you were standing next to me.”

His hands are shaking.

“I’m not trying to hurt you, really.”

“I know.”, his voice is barely audible.

“I think you’ve done enough of that yourself. Maybe it’s time to forgive yourself?”

“Do you?” Do you, really? Do you forgive him after all that has been said? Do all these confessions illuminate the facts from a different perspective? Does it change what he did and what you went through? And if so, does that mean you're letting him go? Are you leaving him behind? Is he leaving you behind? Why is it so hard to let go? Why do you choose the safety of the known, even when it hurts you?

You choose not to answer and instead firmly insist, “You have to forgive yourself, Joel, it’s okay.” Be the better person. If not for him, then for yourself. Let him go.

“I can’t do that.”, Joel is adamant, shaking his head while he rejects your request.

“Yes, you can.” you urge him again. “As I can and do.” Let him go.

Joel never thought he would listen to those words coming out of your mouth. He doesn’t deserve them. He hasn’t earned them. “You forgive me?”, he repeats in utter shock and disbelief.

“Yes.” Loud and clear as daylight.

“I- You can’t- I don’t- I don’t deserve that.” Joel feels like he’s drowning in your so graciously offered Holy Grail, desperately trying to keep his head above the waters of your absolution.

“I can’t be the judge of that, Joel, hell, I can’t be the judge of anyone. The way I see it, you chose your actions and I chose mine. You chose to hurt me and I chose to walk away. We both lost something. Have we not suffered enough, Joel?” you ask him honestly.

“I don’t want to presume, but- isn’t it a great burden to carry on your shoulders when you try to move on? All this anger, all that bitterness?” you search his eyes for an answer but he doesn’t give you one.

You continue, hoping to get through to him. “Your feelings are your burden Joel and it doesn’t matter if I forgive you. That’s why it is you who needs to forgive yourself.”

His eyes still refuse to meet yours, stubbornly glued to the ground. “I’m not doing this for you, I’m doing this for me. We need to move forward, both of us.” is the last thing you say to him, not knowing if he even listened to half of what you just said.

You both fall into a thoughtful silence, but something you said is bugging him. He can’t quite figure it out, so he turns to look at you, to savor you while he still has the chance. He knows that his time is limited.

You’re just sitting there with him, trying to comfort him, you of all people. You seem lighter now, fidgeting absentmindedly with your fingers as if some of your burden has already been lifted. And as his gaze sweeps over you, he sees it again. He sees the white shirt hugging your body and he knows what’s troubling him.

I don’t want to presume, I don’t want to presume, I don’t want to presume.

His heart beats rapidly in his chest, panic rising inside him.

“I’ve been with you for the last four years.”

“Excuse me?” your hands freeze as you turn to face him, clearly confused.

“You said you didn’t want to presume anything and I need to set the record straight. There was and is no other woman in my life except you.”

“Joel,” you blush shyly, “this is none of my business, you are free-”

“No. No. I need you to know this, it’s important to me. I meant everything I said. You have done nothing wrong. My feelings for you have never changed-”

“Joel, please..” you beg him to stop, you can’t have this conversation now, it’s too soon. No, you’re wrong. It’s too late; too soon means there’s a future ahead of you. A future where you both fit in the same universe.

“I don’t want you to think that I came all the way out here just to tie up some loose ends and move on. That is not what this is about.”

“If you expect me to tell you about my personal life..” your what now?

“No, I don’t. And I don’t think I could handle it, anyway. You are a free woman and you deserve the world. Unlike me; I don’t deserve anything and I’ll never be free of you.”

Your chin is now trembling and you bite your lower lip to stop the involuntary muscle contraction. You can’t decipher if it’s from anger for the way things came to be or from deep, excruciating sadness for how Joel feels. For how he makes you feel.

“Free woman, huh?”, you whisper bitterly, looking down at your feet, willing yourself not to cry.

“Yes, free, as you should always have been and I’m sorry I couldn’t see it sooner.”

Joel then picks up the divorce papers from the floor next to him as he’s fishing a pen out of his pocket. He stares at you and then at the blank space where his signature should be, next to yours. He splays his palm over the last page as if to straighten it out, but it almost looks like he’s caressing it. He brings the ball of the pen to the white surface and for a moment his hand lingers over it. He doesn’t dare look at you again, his resolve is not that strong. Finally, finally he signs, filling the empty spot and he hands you the contract. It’s a strange moment, the one before the signature and the one after it.

Everything seems to be the same; it is just a signature.

Everything feels completely different; it is not just a signature.

Your fingertips brush his as you reach out to take it, the touch sending shivers down your spine. Your slightly trembling hands hold the papers gently, not sure you wanna hold on to them or scatter them on the ground. Your thumb swipes softly over his signature.

You feel it, now. You feel the ground beneath your bare feet, the warmth of the earth, the weight of your footing. The falling has stopped. The feather finally rests. You have landed.

Joel moves to stand on his feet, as you keep staring at the drying ink, when you feel something fall from above onto your thumb; but you can’t see anything as it is immediately absorbed by the hungry pores of the paper, slightly smudging his signature. You look up to catch him as he dries his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

“Free as a bird, baby, ready to fly over the world.”, Joel smiles at you with a look of reverence and devotion in his eyes.

You picture the floating feather in your head and smile back at him with a serenity he hasn’t seen in a long time.

“I think I just want to walk for a while. One step at a time.”

He nods, his eyes still full of emotion and you watch as he begins to walk slowly towards his truck, when suddenly he turns his body to face you but continues to walk backward in the same direction.

“Hey!” he calls to you with a mischievous smile, raising his chin to you.

“Yeah?” you answer, your voice wavering slightly as you try to hide your smile.

“Can I take you to dinner sometime?” he asks as he reaches for his driver’s door and opens it, waiting for your answer, which never comes because you think he’s joking. But he continues to stare at you, with no expectations, quietly, earnestly, sincerely, with a soft, shy smile on his lips. Oh.

Oh.

“Joel..” is all you breathe out, closing your eyes for a moment before you look at him again, because his name is all that is left in your very being right now. Joel.

He seems lighter, too.

“Maybe, one day..?”

“Yeah.. Maybe, one day..”

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flowerandblood · 23 hours

Text

The Fall from the Heavens (27)

[ dark • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: fingering, masturbation, sexual tension, smut, angst, dirty talk, kissing without consent, swearing ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

When her uncle decided that they would spend the night in Dragonstone for a moment she thought she had overheard herself − she was unable to contain her delight and outburst of joy at his words, feeling that he had somehow rewarded her for her efforts.

Or at least she thought he had.

His sudden change of plans was unlike him, and she was aware of that, knowing his nature.

He detested deviating from the plans he had previously made for himself.

However, she recognised that perhaps he wanted to show her and her family his sincere intentions, to prove that she was not just a prisoner in his eyes and that he, as her husband, could also sleep under their roof without being one.

She wasn't sure if she had ever been as happy in her life as she had been the moment she flew through the sky next to Vhagar, Caraxes and Syrax; her heart was filled with heat and hope, her uncle's words echoing in her mind like a sweet whisper.

I am proud of you.

Those words meant more to her than any of his other confessions.

Of course, his confession of love was a wonderful thing, but she had always been waiting for him to appreciate her as a person, not just a woman he saw by his side.

With this, she finally felt equal to him.

Her optimism extinguished as quickly as it had appeared as soon as she crossed the walls of the family fortress. Although her heart screamed with joy at the sight of familiar rooms, smells and sights, the faces of her brothers left her with no illusions.

She swallowed loudly as she saw the hateful look on Jace's face; she knew him and she knew that he was hurt.

He was disappointed and heartbroken, he felt humiliated and, deep down, betrayed by her, even though she never meant it.

Luke clearly didn't know what he felt himself, because he just lowered his head, unable to look into her eyes.

She felt a squeeze in her throat at the sight, a discomfort in her stomach that told her that perhaps this wasn't her home at all anymore.

She was no longer welcome here.

She was snapped out of her reverie by Rhaena − her step-sister was the first to approach her, warmth and longing in her gaze, some kind of understanding from which she felt tears under her eyelids. They hugged each other tightly, though they had never done so before − her words made her feel a tightening in her stomach.

"I'm so happy you're alive." She muttered in a breaking voice, and she smiled involuntarily at her words.

"Me too."

As Baela approached them, also enclosing her in the tight embrace of her arms, she thought with a shrug that even though she hadn't let them into the depths of her heart for so many years, they truly cared and worried about her.

At the very end Joffrey ran up to her, sobbing loudly.

"− why have you been so long in King's Landing? − why did you leave us? − Jace wouldn't read me my favourite book −" He mumbled cuddled into her belly, her hands combing through his dark curls with the calm motion of her fingers.

"− forgive me − I'm here −" She said softly, looking at her older brother and swallowed hard, seeing the murderous glances they exchanged over the table with her husband.

She looked at her mother, who nodded, understanding what she wanted to convey to her.

"You are certainly exhausted. Take up your old quarters, daughter, I will immediately command them to be brought to order and prepared for you." Rheanyra said calmly, and she bowed before her.

"Thank you, my Queen." She said softly, looking into her eyes. Her mother swallowed hard and nodded, allowing them to leave.

As they stepped inside her chamber, she felt a squeeze in her heart and some kind of elation; all her belongings were in their places exactly as she had left them, as if no one had been allowed in here since she had been forcibly held in the Red Keep.

She shuddered, snapped out of her reverie when her uncle moved ahead of her, strolling around the room with his hands folded behind his back, intrigued.

It seemed to her that some part of him wanted to understand what her life had been like and who she had been for the eight years during which they had been separated.

She saw him walk over to her old oak desk and run his fingers over its top, thoughtful.

"− is this here? −" He asked casually.

She felt heat in her lower abdomen at the thought that he meant the place where she had written letters to him.

"− yes −"

She swallowed quietly as he hummed at her words, watching as he sat in the chair where she sat many times leaning over the parchment, scribbling words on it meant only for his eyes. He tapped his finger on the armrest, turning to face her in profile as he gazed out of the window, apparently absorbed in memories.

She thought that although her return home had proved more uncomfortable than she had thought, she was grateful to him.

Whatever decision he had made that morning had led them here and was proof of his intentions.

"− we should rest, husband − if that's what you wish, we'll have supper alone −" She said quietly, smiling at him, wanting him to know she wouldn't force him to sit at the same table with her family.

She thought she would spend the evening with him, give him the feeling that she was not speaking with anyone behind his back, and perhaps in the morning, before they flew away, she would ask him so that she could speak to her mother at last in peace and solitude.

Comforted by this thought and the fact that it looked like all was not lost, she began to tell him about her life in Dragonstone, to show him the books she had written to him about in her letters, the places she had flown to on Larax.

It seemed to her that her husband was only partially listening to her; his gaze was thoughtful, his face expressed weariness and discouragement. She knew that something was making him uncomfortable and she suspected that it was about the place they were in; however, she did not know how to help him, to give him the feeling that neither he nor she was in danger here.

"− uncle − will you tell me what troubles you? −" She finally made an attempt to find out what had been on his mind since the morning. He shuddered at her words and looked at her with a horror as if he was about to faint.

"I'm tired." He replied quickly, without thinking, as if he wanted to answer her anything just to end the subject. She sighed quietly, recognising that she couldn't push him too hard.

Not after what they had managed to accomplish.

"Let's go to bed."

She felt a squeeze in her throat as, already lying on the bedding, she watched as he took out his dagger and tucked it under his pillow; she looked at him and met his calm, impassive gaze.

She decided not to say anything, understanding where his caution came from, not wanting to discourage or frustrate him.

She smiled involuntarily, content as his body clung to hers as soon as he lay at her side. She heard him murmur as she snuggled his face between her breasts, felt his arms embrace her waist and tighten around the material of her nightgown on her back.

She loved it when her mother sang lullabies to her when she was a child; it always calmed and soothed her. She had never dared to sing to him when they were children, fearing that her voice was too squeaky and unpleasant, but now she decided that maybe that was just what he needed.

So she sang, humming softly, once in a while placing a warm, lingering kiss on the top of his head − she felt his embrace slowly growing weaker, his muscles relaxing, his breathing quiet and even.

She sighed quietly feeling him fall asleep.

Someone's jerking and growling roused her from a deep sleep; when she opened her eyes for a moment she didn't know where she was or what was happening.

She recognised her chamber but did not know what her uncle was doing in it, convinced that he still had not answered her letters, as he had not done so for eight years.

After a moment, however, her mind seemed to regain focus and she remembered that she was his wife after all, and that his silhouette lying beside her was not a figment of her imagination.

She raised herself up on her elbow seeing that his body convulsed once in a while, as if he was trying to break free of something, whimpers and grunts came out of his throat, however, his mouth did not open, tears began to fall from the corners of his eyes one by one.

"Uncle! Uncle, please, wake up!" She called out, grabbing his arm, feeling her heart pounding like crazy.

She was frightened and jumped back as his eye opened suddenly, his figure rose to sit up, and he began to pant like a wild animal, quivering all over. She looked at him in disbelief, horrified to hear that he was struggling to catch his breath.

Was he having nightmares again?

Was he dreaming again of the night he lost his eye?

"− easy, my love − breathe −" She whispered tenderly, gently touching his back; he flinched all over and looked at her as if he didn't recognise her − his eye was wide open, his nostrils twitched in accelerated, heavy breaths.

"− Rhaenys − Rhaenys −" He mumbled like a small, terrified child and fell into her arms, bursting into a sob so loud that the voice stuck in her throat.

She embraced him immediately, letting him find protection and comfort in her arms, stroking affectionately his hair and back, placing warm, soft kisses on the top of his head in an attempt to reassure him.

"− I'm here, my love − I'm here −" She mumbled, feeling that the fabric of her nightgown was all wet with his tears, his hot, broken breath enveloping her skin.

She felt like he wanted to melt into one with her, to hide deep inside her from whatever it was that scared him.

He was silent for a long moment, trying to calm himself; she hushed him tenderly, whispering that he was safe, that she was by his side, that all was well. She finally heard him swallow hard, his voice trembling and uncertain.

"− there's something − there's something I want to tell you −" He muttered. She blinked, twisting comfortably in her seat, feeling her heart begin to beat faster.

"− I'm listening to you, my love −" She whispered, stroking his hair. She released him from her arms when she felt him wanting to rise.

He sat on the bedding with his side facing her, running his shaking hand over his face, his healthy eye closed as if afraid of what was about to leave his mouth.

"− I − fuck −" He began, swallowing hard − her hand rose to his back, stroking it reassuringly.

"− easy − take your time − start from the beginning −" She encouraged him softly, not wanting him to fall silent again, seeing that he wanted to throw off whatever had been weighing on his shoulders since they had left Harrenhal.

"− you may remember − Lord Strong wanted to speak with me soon after we arrived in Harrenhal −" He said uncertainly, and she nodded, reminding herself that this was indeed what had happened.

"− yes −"

Her uncle swallowed hard, drawing in air loudly.

"− he told me at the time − that my grandfather had no intention of letting your mother and Daemon leave the Eyrie alive if it turned out they wouldn't accept our terms − but now I think they wouldn't have left alive anyway − Larys had his spies there −" He muttered and fell silent, freezing completely as she did, her heart beginning to pound like mad.

My grandfather had no intention of letting them leave the Eyrie alive.

"Will you be by my side even when all is lost? Even if there is nothing left but darkness? Is that what you had in mind then?" She mumbled out in pain, feeling that there was a complete void in her mind. "Will I be there for you even if your grandfather kills my mother?"

"− n-no −" He began quickly. "− will you be there for me even if I fail to prevent it knowing that I didn't tell you −"

She felt a constriction in her throat and lower abdomen, felt tears of disappointment and sadness flowing into her eyelids − now it was her body that trembled in convulsions, his gaze full of shame and horror directed at her.

She sucked his cock, she let him take her, and he knew that the next day her father and her mother could be murdered.

She pressed her lips together, shaking her head and laughed low.

"− you will betray me − you will run away − those are your words, aren't they? − you were always the first to accuse me − was it because you were trying to cover up your own conscience? − you wanted me to let you down so that you wouldn't feel guilty about doing it over and over again? −" She asked with a cold mockery, from which he bowed his head in embarrassment, in a subconscious reflex he had inherited from his mother plucking the cuticles around his fingernails.

He did not answer.

"− what should I do now? − divorce you? − say I won't come back to King's Landing with you? − not speak to you for eight years? − tell me, uncle, what do you think you deserve? −" She asked dispassionately, feeling the tears of rage and grief one by one run down her cheeks.

She saw him tremble at her words and curl into himself, as if he were again the same little boy who had cried in her arms when his mother had reprimanded him for inappropriate behaviour.

She pressed her lips into a thin line as he hid his face in his hands and wept helplessly, as if his whole person, everything he had built around himself was just falling apart in front of her eyes, showing him his insides, what was left of him.

He was vulnerable.

"− fuck − I − I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid you'd change your mind − that if you warned them they'd see it as a betrayal and wouldn't want to pact − that's why I didn't let any of us stay in the Eyrie − I −"

"− because my mother agreed − but what would you have done if things had turned out differently? −" She asked coldly, and he swallowed hard, covering his eyes with his hand, as if he could not bear what he felt or this conversation.

"− I don't know − I don't know how I could have protected both you and my family then − what decision of mine would have saved you from death −" He muttered and she pulled herself up from the bed, recognising that she didn't feel like listening to this, that she had had enough of him and his guilt when it was always him, him, him disappointing her.

From the first night she had returned to him, when he had closed her cheeks in the brutal grip of his fingers she had seen in his eye what had now become clear to her.

He was weak, and when he was afraid, he resorted to violence.

She heard him stand up behind her, panting heavily, wiping his tear-wet face with his hand.

"− no − don't leave − I told you because −"

"− because your conscience didn't give you peace − because you didn't want to carry your guilt alone −" She hissed, turning towards him with furrowed brows.

She felt that fury, not blood, was flowing through her veins now.

He swallowed loudly at her words, looking at her wide-eyed.

"− if you've never hidden anything from me − you've never concealed anything from me for fear that I might react impulsively, leave − but if you did, come back to bed − I won't touch you −"

She pressed her lips together in fury, recognising that he must have been mocking her, but then she felt an unpleasant sting in her heart that proved she had doubts.

She heard again the words of one of her servants in King's Landing whispering in her ear that when the time came, Prince Daemon would help her escape; she heard again the words of Alys speaking of the prophecy she had not shared with him for fear of his reaction.

Had she really never hidden anything from him?

Her whole body screamed for her to leave; she wanted to do it, but felt that if she did, she would be lying to herself and to him, creating an image in which she was without flaw.

She could say that she had the right to do it, that she had good intentions, but didn't her uncle think the same about his decisions?

She glared at him and let out a loud breath, returning to the bed without a word, sinking into the soft sheets, turning her face away from him. She heard him breathe heavily, and after a moment, the bed creaked under the weight of his body settling against her back.

"− tell me −" He whispered.

She sighed heavily and grunted, recognising that her faults were less than his anyway.

So why did she still feel shame and a squeeze in her gut?

"− after I tried to take my life I was told that my father could help me escape − don't ask how − I also didn't tell you about the prophecy I heard from Alys −"

"− that fucking witch is a liar −" He growled, and she let out a loud breath, impatient.

"− it is possible − but I also heard this prophecy from your sister's mouth − both of them spoke of two rivers of blood merging into one, taking the shape of a dragon's crowned head −" She choked out finally, her husband stirring beside her in his place, surprised.

"− what could this mean? −"

"− I don't know − I was afraid that when you heard it, you would want to give up on the negotiations and return to King's Landing − Alys warned me, so she probably knew what your grandfather was planning to do −" She said regretfully, thinking that strange woman was more concerned for her safety and her family than her husband.

She heard him swallow hard, letting the air out loudly.

"− forgive me −"

She lay in silence for some time, feeling anger that he expected her to simply forget everything, understand his reasons and forgive him as always.

No.

"− I will forgive you, but I have my conditions − we will stay here longer − for a week or two, I will decide in the morning −" She said coldly.

"− but − my mother will be convinced that they are holding us by force −" He began, but she would not let him finish.

"− you will write a letter to your brother informing him that my mother has accepted his terms, but is also setting her own − that we will stay here to discuss all the details, show our goodwill − if your mother wishes, she can travel here in her own person − you can leave Dragonstone when you wish, but I will stay here as long as I desire, and you will show no opposition −" She said impatiently, feeling her heart pounding like mad, her hands clenched into fists.

Her husband swallowed loudly at her words, tense.

"− I − very well −" He muttered finally, knowing that any other words would forever cross him out in her eyes.

She hummed under her breath, covering herself tightly with the bedding and closed her eyes, figuring she wouldn't turn towards him for the rest of the night.

"− don't try to take me or embrace me −" She commanded and he sighed quietly.

She swallowed hard when she felt him place his large hand on her head and begin to stroke her hair exactly as he had when they were children.

She felt furious that it was so pleasant, so soothing, that he knew she loved it.

"− my Rheanys −" He whispered tenderly. She pressed her lips together at his words, feeling a single, lonely tear run down her cheek.

The next morning she was awakened by a rustling noise and the sound of a quill scratching on parchment; she lifted her sleepy eyelids and saw his silhouette sitting behind her desk, bent over a letter he had apparently just written.

She felt strange at the thought that he was sitting in the exact place where she had spent years writing him messages that had never received a response.

She knew, however, that she now had the upper hand over him and that her word was an order to him.

She was not going to imitate his cold nature and not speak to him − they had to maintain a semblance of at least a warm relationship so that the image of their marriage, on which the whole agreement between the two parties was supposed to be based, did not begin to crack.

He lifted his gaze to her when she stood up, but they did not exchange a word between each other.

He did not know what to say.

Her maidservant walked in at her summons and bowed before her, bending her head humbly.

"− my Lady, will you have your morning meal before your travel? − your mother would like to speak with you before you leave for King's Landing −"

"− we will have a meal, but convey to my mother that there is no rush − my husband and I have decided to stay here for a few weeks as an expression of our sincere intentions − my husband is in the process of conveying this message to his brother − my uncle is in need of new garments, provide them for him without delay and bring them to my chamber −" She said calmly; her servant blinked, shocked and nodded, immediately disappearing behind the door.

Despite what she had learned and the rage she felt, she was pleased − the roles had been reversed and although her husband was not her prisoner, he was attached to her and was forced to stay in a place that disgusted him.

Good, she thought.

She wanted him to feel what she had felt during the month she had spent in King's Landing, imprisoned by his mother and grandfather.

"− I wish to spend this afternoon with my mother − if you so desire, I can show you in which chamber the library is located −" She said lightly, without looking at him however, taking a bite of bread spread with confiture. Her husband rolled his eyes, displeased.

"I have no intention of leaving your quarters." He replied indifferently.

She raised her eyebrows in amusement at his words.

"You are not my prisoner, uncle. You can walk and fly wherever you please. Holding someone by force is not in my nature." She murmured softly − her husband gave her one tired look.

She smiled at him in a way from which he swallowed hard and looked away, sighing heavily.

He knew she was enraged and he wasn't going to get in her way.

One of the aspects she enjoyed upon returning home was that she had finally retrieved all her robes; her uncle looked at her from the side, watching as her servants helped her put on a golden gown with long black sleeves that reached the ground.

"− make braids around my head − my husband adores it when I wear this hairstyle, is he not? −" She sneered, glancing at him over her shoulder. She only saw him roll his eyes, running his hand over his face, not saying a word.

He knew he had to endure everything she was throwing at him with humility if he didn't want to make his already bad situation worse.

She had no idea what he could do to regain her favour, her trust, the respect she had for him.

"− have a pleasant day, husband −" She threw over her shoulder, leaving him alone in the chamber, recognising that she did not care what he did.

As she stepped into her mother's quarters, Rhaenyra rose from her seat, putting down the quill she held in her hand, approaching her with surprise and uncertainty written on her face.

"− is it true? − are you planning to stay in Dragonstone? −" She asked in a trembling voice − she smiled and nodded. Her mother sighed in relief and walked over to her, embracing her tightly with her arms, snuggling her head into her neck.

They pulled away from each other after a moment, her hands gripping her cheeks, her thumbs stroking her skin as if she remembered a time when she was still a small child.

"− let's sit down −"

Being in her chamber again was like a dream to her − she couldn't believe she was sitting at the same table again, surrounded by the same furniture and bed with a red curtain, with the windows open to a view of the great sea.

"− does he treat you well? −" She asked suddenly, taking her hand in her own.

Her mother's question surprised her, but it also filled her heart with warmth and emotion.

"− I − yes − despite his harsh, difficult nature −"

"− so how did he let this happen? −" She asked, exposing a part of her wrist with her thumb, where her pale scar was clearly visible. She swallowed loudly, not knowing what to answer her.

She wanted to tell her about the moon tea, but hesitated.

She didn't want her to think that her husband knew about it, that he was a worse person than she assumed.

It devastated her to think that she still had to tell half-truths.

"− I did it as an act of desperation − when he found out he wouldn't leave my side for weeks − he wouldn't let anyone but himself, Helaena and the maester cross the threshold of my quarters − he let me see Luke −" She muttered, looking at her at last. Her mother lowered her gaze, sighing quietly, tired and pale.

"− when Daemon passed on your words to me, I was furious − I didn't understand how you could do this to me −" She began and fell silent, closing her eyelids for a moment.

She felt an all-consuming shame at the thought that she had failed and disappointed her as a daughter.

"− forgive me − I would never question your rights if it were only about you − but you know very well that it is not −" She said cautiously − her mother lifted her gaze to her and nodded.

"− I know −"

They fell silent for a moment.

"− can I trust him? − your husband − and my brother −" Her mother asked coldly; she raised her gaze to her, surprised to feel that her lips involuntarily parted.

I don't know.

"− yes −" She muttered. "− he refused Maris Baratheon to take her as his wife − he himself proposed a form of compromise, and his elder brother supported him − Aegon is not a good man, but he cares about his children − he knows he will not leave them a secure, safe throne − just as you would not leave it to your sons −"

They said no more.

She spent some more time with her, just holding her hand, wordlessly trying to comfort her, thinking with weariness that she had to give up everything that was rightfully hers.

She finally decided to take pity on her husband and return to her chamber, not wanting to leave him alone for so long in a state of anxiety and uncertainty.

She felt her heart stop as she stepped into her quarters and saw no one inside − a cold shiver ran down her spine at the thought of him leaving her.

He had returned to King's Landing without her.

She pressed her lips together, involuntarily feeling her heart begin to pound like mad with pain and sadness, her eyes glazed over with tears that she was ashamed of, thinking it shouldn't hurt so much, and yet it did.

She looked around the room quickly, looking for a letter or anything else that might say he had left her some word, but found nothing of the sort; she shuddered when she heard someone's dim voices in the distance and walked over to the window.

Her father and her uncle stood facing each other on the beach with their hands folded behind their backs, discussing something animatedly, a clear tension between them.

She felt regret towards herself, her body filled with an overwhelming relief that he had not left her, that he had not betrayed her again.

She thought the gods had been cruel, allowing her to love this man so deeply.

She blinked, startled, when she heard the door from her chamber open; she turned and saw the figure of her eldest brother, who only spoke up when they heard a loud clatter of wood behind them.

"− how could you do this? − choose him over us? −" He growled with regret, resentment and disappointment, his big brown eyes filled with anger and pain from which she felt a tightening in her throat. She furrowed her brow and shook her head.

"− we both know what the truth is − you can't rule with lies −" She replied, shrugging her shoulders; Jace moved towards her and she flinched all over, surprised at how pale he was, his lips tightened into a thin line − she had the impression he was trembling all over.

"− this was my inheritance − my throne − my crown − and you chose him, a man who did not write back to your letters for eight years, who humiliated you by calling you a bastard, and you shared a bed with him the first night you saw him, like some... −" He didn't finish and fell silent, the word he wanted to say stuck deep in his throat. She felt her lower lip tremble at his accusation, her eyebrows arching in pain and anger, her eyes red from tears of shame and humiliation.

"− say it − you've already spoken the word in your mind −" She sneered, lifting her chin higher, challenging him.

"− I won't call you an unworthy name −" He muttered lowly, and she laughed involuntarily at his words, shaking her head.

"− you think that makes you a better man? − look at this −" She hissed, lifting her hand up, exposing her wrist tugging impatiently at the material of her black sleeve. "− here is what I have done for you and for your crown − should I do it again? −"

She swallowed loudly, surprised when she noticed that something in her brother's expression had changed − Jace had grabbed her wrist and locked it between his fingers, but there was no aggression in the gesture, his thumb stroking her smooth, bare skin.

They stared at each other for a moment, breathing loudly; she felt that there was a kind of tension between them from which her heart was pounding like mad, but she wasn't sure what it was caused by; something in his gaze, in his brown, misty eyes and parted lips, made her feel hot.

"− do you love him more than our mother? − than Luke, than Joffrey? − than me? −" He asked in a trembling voice and she shook her head, not understanding what he meant.

"− Jace − it's a different kind of love − I −"

"− what kind? −" He hissed. "− the kind where you're constantly betrayed? − in which someone mocks your parentage? − locks you up like some prisoner? −"

Gods.

"− Jace −" She gasped, feeling that something in his questions, in his gaze, in what he wanted to hear from her had broken her down, her whole body began to quiver.

She shuddered as he approached her suddenly, as his free hand cupped her warm cheeks, as his forehead pressed against hers, his voice trembling as the words left his throat like a river.

"− I am your oldest brother − you were born to be mine − I would be good to you − you know I would −"

"− brother, what are you saying? − you had no objections when my mother decided to marry me to Ronnel −" She said disapprovingly, furrowing her brow in anger.

"− it was our mother's decision − how could I oppose her? −" He asked with a frown, as if he really believed what he was saying, a cold shiver ran through her body as his thumb ran over the soft skin of her cheek, hot with emotion.

"− you have never loved me − not in this way, we both know it well − you have always preferred to lie to yourself rather than face the truth − you do not look at me as the woman you desire, but as an inheritance that was taken from you −" She said with pain, feeling that what he was saying was not due to any deep feeling he had for her, but to his anger that she was not waiting for him docilely like his throne and his crown.

Her brother swallowed hard at her words, his hot, ragged breath enveloping the skin of her face.

"− when you were born, our mother told me that you might be my future wife − and I always, always saw you this way −"

"− you mocked me with Aegon −"

"− I craved his attention − he was older and impressed me − didn't you do anything you regretted as a child? −" He muttered wearily; she felt her heart stop at his words, a drop of cold sweat run down the back of her neck.

What was she supposed to answer him?

"− brother − I am married to another man − of my own free will −"

"− you are a traitor −"

"− how dare you −"

"− you are a traitor, but I still am unable to hate you −"

A squeal of terror stuck in her throat, her body froze completely as his lips pressed against hers in a greedy, hot, sticky kiss, his fingers digging into the soft skin of her cheeks, refusing to let her move away.

She cried out and pushed him away − before he could make any move her hand slapped him in the face so hard that he took a few steps back, clutching his red cheek, panting heavily.

"− get out −" She muttered, placing her hand over her heart, feeling as if it was about to burst out of her chest. "− get out of my chamber, brother − I'll forget this...conversation ever took place −"

Jace swallowed hard, horrified and ashamed, as if it had only now occurred to him what he had actually done.

What would Baela say if she saw this?

It seemed to him that they both couldn't believe he had done it − Jace had turned and walked out, leaving behind an open door and a complete blank in her mind.

She thought he wanted to take it out on their uncle, to take away something that belonged to him.

That she was just an object for him on which he had decided to vent.

She thought with pain that he, unlike her husband, had never tried to truly understand her.

When her uncle returned to her chamber they did not exchange a word − he seemed distracted and frustrated to her. He took one of the books from the bookshelf and sat by the fireplace, pretending to read. She lowered her gaze, playing with her fingers, thinking only of the fact that if she hid it from him, she would be just like him.

She didn't know for a long time how she should put it into words, but she figured he'd be furious either way.

"− Jace kissed me − on the lips −" She muttered, glancing at him fearfully − his eye opened wide, looking at her in disbelief, his jaw clenched in such a way that a shudder went through her.

He was silent for a moment, as if he had run out of words, which frightened her even more.

"− he did WHAT? −" He growled, closing the book with a loud slam, pulling himself up from his seat like an enraged bear.

"− he kissed me − grief and humiliation took his mind away − I − wait − gods −" She muttered, standing up as soon as he headed towards the door, which he opened with a loud clatter, running out into the corridor after him.

"− Aemond − no, no, no − stop! −" She hissed, grabbing his arm, but he pulled away from her, opening door after door until he found himself in the right room − Jace and Beala were sitting together at a table, apparently discussing something.

Her older brother rose from his seat and turned pale at the sight of them, horrified.

Her husband walked into his quarters with a wide, menacing smile, exactly the same one he bestowed on him and Luke when they saw him duelling with Criston Cole in King's Landing. He put his hands behind his back, shifting his body weight to one leg, cocking his head.

"− haven't you learned yet not to take what's not yours? − hm? −"

"− Aemond −" She said warningly, but her uncle didn't listen to her, his healthy eye wide open, as if he was just waiting for this.

An opportunity for confrontation.

"− your sister when we were children told me that she never desired you as a man − she knew even then that you were a cunt −" He sneered amused, revealing his teeth in a wide grin full of feigned recognition.

"− Aemond, that's enough −"

"− how dare you? − you are a guest under our roof − get out −" Baela thundered.

She felt a squeeze in her heart at the thought that she knew nothing.

She moved ahead and stood in front of her husband, looking at him with furrowed brows.

"− we are leaving −"

"− no − I'm speaking with my nephew −"

"− we are leaving, uncle, or I swear I will never return with you to King's Landing −"

"− so I'll stay here with you − Jace as ruler of Dragonstone will surely be delighted to host us, won't he? − he seems to have a weakness for you, sweet wife −" He murmured in a voice filled with poison, from which a strong shiver ran along her back.

"− Jace, say something at last! −" Baela hissed, furious that her betrothed simply looked at their uncle and remained silent, unable to get a word out.

"− I made a mistake − I shouldn't have done it, forgive me − I −" He directed his words to her, to his sister, sadness and regret in his gaze, from which she involuntarily felt sympathy.

"− you made a mistake? − I seem to be able to understand the feeling − I have made a similar one many times, as well as others, even worse ones −" Her husband hissed, gripping her cheeks in his hand − her voice stuck in her throat as his fleshy lips clung to hers in an aggressive, loud kiss, his tongue forced its way deep into her throat.

She sighed as he turned her back to him, pressing her brutally against his chest and grabbed her neck − she grasped his wrist as his free hand slid down her lower abdomen, his fingers dug into the material of her gown beneath which her womanhood lay, she could feel his hot breath on her cheek.

"− so beautiful, isn't she, nephew? − I couldn't help myself either − I can't count how many times I took her − how many times I have filled her with my seed − right here −" He breathed out into her ear and she closed her eyes, feeling with horror and disbelief that her nipples had hardened, that her walls had clenched around nothing at his embarrassing words, feeling his finger tease what lay between her thighs despite her resistance.

"− u-uncle − stop −" She muttered, a moan stuck in her throat as she felt his erection behind her throb hard at her words, pushing against her buttocks, his fingertips dug deep into her folds hidden beneath the fabric.

Gods, he wanted her brother to watch this.

Baela looked at Jace as if she suddenly understood everything, her eyebrows arched in pain and disbelief.

"− what did you do? −" She asked quietly, her older brother shook his head, all red, turning his face away, unable to look at it.

"− I −" He didn't finish; her uncle let her go immediately, panting loudly as she did when Daemon walked into the chamber, looking at them, then at Jace and his daughter.

He grinned.

"− what is the meaning of this...commotion? − hm? −" He asked, raising his eyebrows in amusement and mockery; she looked away and glanced at her uncle, shaking her head with furrowed brows, letting him know that he was to remain silent.

Her husband pressed his lips into a thin line, but did not utter a word.

They stood in awkward silence, with only the quiet fizzle of the blazing fire in the fireplace around them.

"Mmm." Her husband hummed and turned away, heading for the door. Not knowing what to do, she simply moved after him, casting only one apologetic glance at Baela.

When they finally returned to her chamber she let out a loud breath.

"− what was that supposed to mean? −" She asked in frustration, wondering what had possessed him.

She tried not to think about how embarrassingly wet she was now.

"− I don't know what you're referring to, wife − I've merely shown my nephew the depth of my understanding as to his desire −" He grinned, grabbing a jug full of wine, pouring himself a full cup of it.

She licked her lower lip in impatience, standing still and watching him − their gazes met as he raised the goblet to his lips and took a deep sip from it.

"− what − are you wet now? −" He sneered and she felt a hot wave of shame surge through her body − she felt like her cheeks had turned scarlet.

"− don't mock me − this was humiliating −" She growled, furrowing her brow, a smirk on his face that she didn't like.

"− if you say so, wife −" He muttered, approaching her lazily, playing with his cup in his hand, raising it to his lips again "− I, however, think you'd rather I did something else −"

He said and took another sip of wine, swallowing it loudly, towering over her with a look from which a pleasant shiver ran through her core.

"− I think you'd rather I fucked you good in front of him − for me to slip my fingers under your skirt and sink them into your leaking cunt −" He murmured, leaning over her so that the tips of their noses were almost touching, her walls swelling all over at his words − she felt a drop of her own wetness run down her thigh.

"− am I wrong? −" He asked, cocking his head curiously, taking another sip of wine from his goblet without taking his eyes off her.

She drew in a loud breath as he set his cup down on the table standing beside them with a loud clang of steel, taking a step towards her, his lips parted in desire.

Gods, no.

"− don't touch me −"

She saw him squint his eyes as he hesitated, his nostrils flaring in accelerated breath.

She knew he was hard.

She knew he wanted to soften her up.

"Mmm."

She immediately summoned her servant wishing that she would help her pull off her gown and let her hair down. After this, she lay down in bed, covering herself with thick furs, not looking at him or speaking a word to him. She swallowed hard when she heard him lie down right next to her and closed her eyelids when she felt his hot breath on her neck.

She thought he would try to touch her, embrace her and give her a reason to push him away, but he just lay behind her back, driving her crazy.

She waited for some time, listening to his quiet breathing, and decided that he was surely asleep by now; her hand slipped silently into the material of her nightgown, lifting it up. She swallowed quietly, tightening her lips as her fingers sank into her leaking, soft, hot womanhood begging to be fulfilled, teasing and squeezing the bud between its fleshy folds.

She felt herself grow hot, her heart began to pound like mad at the indecent idea that these was his hand touching her in front of Jace, making him watch, wanting him to see what her fulfilment looked like.

She felt her walls clench greedily around nothing at the thought, her fingers teasing the spot between her puffy folds with circular, intense strokes.

Involuntarily, her hips began to rock softly to the rhythm of the flicks of her own fingers, she felt that she was wonderfully close to fulfilment.

"− what are you doing? −" She heard his low, cool voice and froze completely. She swallowed hard, sliding her hand, sticky with her own moisture from between her thighs, and remained silent, unwilling to give him the satisfaction.

"− go on −" He said in a hoarse, deep voice from which a shiver went down her spine. She heard a rustling behind her and then the sticky sound of skin slapping against skin − his hot breathing quickened, heavy and ragged. "− come on −"

She couldn't help herself; his fingers dug into her swollen folds again causing a wave of heat to pass through her body − she felt pleasant tickling sensations in her lips, fingertips and nipples. She moaned quietly when she felt his nose pressed against her hair, her hips involuntarily began to rock when she heard him begin to pant, the splats behind her getting louder, louder and louder.

"− fuck − you know I'd lick you good there − hm? −" He sighed and she felt her whole body quiver, her fingers teasing her puffy pearl all sticky from her own wetness.

"− mhgm −" She whined, tilting her head back, feeling his hot, uneven breath on her ear, his swollen, wet lips run down her neck.

"− are you leaking? − are you leaking at the thought of how good I would make you feel? − at the thought of your brother watching me fuck his little sister? −" He breathed out, and she moaned loudly as she felt a wonderful, relieved sensation at his words, her fulfilment shaking her like a hot, tickling wave.

Her slit pulsed all under her fingers as her own moisture leaked out of her, she shuddered when she felt his warm, rough tongue run across the bare skin of her neck, leaving a slick, wet mark on it.

"− fuck, Rheanys −" He muttered and after a moment he gasped − she felt something sticky and warm spurt out onto the back of her nightgown.

His seed.

Gods.

She closed her eyelids, trying to calm her breathing, furious at herself and her weakness.

"− let me embrace you −"

"− no −"

She heard him huff, sighing heavily, his face still sunk into her neck.

"− move away, uncle −"

"− I inhale the wonderful scent of vanilla after having experienced fulfilment with my wife −"

"− your wife does not wish for this −"

"− sleep −"

She pressed her lips together and swallowed hard, thinking with frustration that she hated him with all her heart.

169 notes · View notes

arliedraws · 2 days

Note

In the books, Sirius's devotion to Harry is of course very deep, but it never translates to something physical. He only shakes Harry's end when he leaves his bedside in book 4, and in book 5 there is something resembling a hug, like twice...? As a dog he stood up his hind legs and front paws on harry's shoulders and a half hug after Christmas. Idk it sort of drives me crazy, because in the movies Harry and Sirius are so affectionate! That first hug when Harry arrives in Grimmauld!! Gary and Dan had an amazing chemistry that other actors were jealous of, they mirrored the book characters, so it palpable on screen, the few scenes Gary is in at all at least.

So, what do you make of this? Do you in musing for art imagine a more affectionate relationship between Harry and Sirius? Maybe if Sirius survived the war? Molly's hug in book 4 was a poignant moment but imo that should have been a moment between Sirius and Harry. Sirius already says he expected something catastrophic to happen to Harry in the third task, that's what he stutters when Harry comes in with Dumblebore. So he is literally afraid of his godsons life and it still shows of course, Sirius staying at Harry's side was very beautifully written, like the devotion is clear, but I am foaming at the mouth for more affection between them in canon? Platonic, not shipping. So between the movies and the books Im just kinda torn what's better

It's more a rant than an ask, sorry lol, but if you have any input I'd he so stoked to read it. Not many peeps in the fandom even give Sirius and Harry any time of day, nvrmind even understand what they had (which also drives me kinda nuts but ok)

Ohhhh, anon, you’ve come to the right spot! Mostly because I love them. I would say that 80% of my fandom interest is just Sirius being a dad to Harry.

To your question, I don’t think one is better than the other. Each has their purpose. Let me share my thoughts:

1. I am soft for movie Sirius and Harry’s affectionate touching. However. The dynamics of their relationship were NOT mirrored from the books, which…is fine. Honestly, I just don’t think it was a priority for the filmmakers. This particular bit doesn’t bother me because the movies are not supposed to replace the source material—they are an interpretation. To me, watching the movies is like reading fic—fun to watch but not canon. Also, the filmmakers removed so much of their relationship in GoF that they HAD to make Sirius and Harry physically affectionate in order for movie audiences to see what losing Sirius would mean to Harry. Their complexity is completely unexplored in the films, and they had to do SOMETHING to get the audience to feel sad when Sirius died. This started in PoA when they really downplayed the context of their relationship. (Lol, see my rant on PoA. I really don’t like that movie hahahahaha.)

2. In the books, Harry and Sirius are not physically affectionate with each other despite their intense love for each other, and I think this is an effective way to show characterization. As I tell my students, this might have been intentional by the author, but it could have been an instinct that she followed (what feels right for the characters).

Here’s what I think: both are so terrified of losing the other that they won’t allow themselves to get too close, and, crucially, they both fear showing vulnerability. Touching someone and reaching out for a hug or comfort is an extremely vulnerable thing to do. If you reach out for a hug, you are showing your true feelings. To be rejected physically is sometimes more devastating than someone telling you to just “go away.” It’s a sign of trust to touch someone—you are trusting that they feel the same way about you, and you are trusting that they won’t pull away. Both Sirius and Harry understand rejection, and both avoid it. How do you avoid rejection? You distance yourself.

I’ll put the rest under a cut because I think this might get long…

Sirius and Harry, for all that they love each other, fall out of trusting each other by OotP. Part of this is trauma, but it is also miscommunication. Harry is worried that Sirius will do something stupid—either out of concern for Harry or because he wants to get out of number 12–but he’s worried he’ll lose Sirius. So by withholding affection (which I’m not sure if he knows how to give physically), Harry distances himself from Sirius which will, theoretically, keep Sirius safe (of course, it backfires). Sirius is…you know…going through stuff in OotP. He is already vulnerable—he perceives himself as being emasculated because he’s not allowed to leave his childhood home and he’s relegated to performing ‘uninteresting, domestic work’, and he must be inactive when he’s a man OF action.

When it comes to Goblet of Fire and the odd handshake… I think Sirius is reeeeeally holding back. Harry does NOT want him to go, and Sirius knows this. (Why DOES Dumbledore send him away? Literally anyone else could have “alerted the old crowd” and NOT the convicted murderer. This is clearly the author’s excuse to get Sirius away from Harry—and, I’ve spoken to this before, Sirius is too much of a miracle character—too smart, too loyal, too loving to support the story that the author wanted to tell.) Sirius, if he had stayed, would have been the emotional support that Harry needed. So if Sirius holds Harry, what if Harry doesn’t let go? What if Sirius himself can’t let go? A handshake will have to do.

So Sirius leaves Harry with that bizarre handshake. That Sirius leaves at all damages their relationship—it could have been repaired with time (if they’d been allowed time), but this moment makes Harry realize that he cannot rely on anyone, not even Sirius. This leaves Harry to be isolated in OotP, and it leaves him to feel like he cannot trust anyone. I’m not blaming Sirius for leaving, but I believe this action causes a rift between them that carries into the next book.

My point is, I HATE that they don’t touch but it is very important that they don’t, at least when it comes to the story that the author wanted to tell. I think it was the right move when we look at the story as a whole. Do I like it? NO! But it’s interesting, and it DOES feel right for them. Is it devastating? Yes!!!!!!!

TL;DR: I don’t think either interpretation is necessarily better than the other, but they both have their purpose. Both are effective!

Touch is…huge in HP. Consider Voldemort’s “I can touch him now” and causing Harry pain. Touch is a privilege, and to be touched without permission is a violation. Harry kills someone by touching them. He is only touched by his family when Dudley beats him up or he gets shoved in his cupboard.

Weirdly, one of my absolutely favorite moments when Sirius and Harry touch is in PoA when the Dementors are closing in on Sirius, Harry, and Hermione, and Harry, as he’s about to faint, reaches out to grab an unconscious Sirius by the arm, thinking something along the lines of “the dementors weren’t going to take him” and such. And this is about two seconds after Harry has accepted that Sirius is telling the truth! Harry physically tethers Sirius to him—this touch-starved teen reaches out to this man who is now everything to him, who is now his only real family, willing to risk death (or worse) to keep it. BUT THEY JUST MET!!!!! Devastating!!!

Also…another thought: the first time Sirius and Harry touch is the first time Sirius has been touched as a human in twelve years. And Harry is beating the absolute shit out of him…and then Sirius nearly strangles him…

Also, also, not to like…self-promote, but if you want some Sirius & Harry family feelings and a wee bit of affectionate touching, I wrote a one-shot where they talk about their feelings in OotP.

Anyway, this got longer than I thought. Thank you for the prompt!!

#if this sounds critical of sirius it’s not #he is a Very Good Character #if he were ‘perfect’ he’d be boring #i like his messy parts #and i like harry’s #i wish there had been more of them together #but i like that we can build the relationship outside of what we’re given #i love AUs #sirius black #harry potter #hp meta #long post #asks

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alphaketoglutaricacid · 1 day

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the way he came real close to one of laios desperate plans while sleep deprived and hangry several chapters in advance.. he really does know laios huh.

my tags got too long so here they are under the cut

Even tho he wanted to sleep he probs was still listening to everything laios has to say. Bc he is Always Listening and Observing

Interesting in the context of how laios wants someone to understand him - to see him as he is but also the ways in which hes afraid of rejection and being seen as less than human but lacking the monstrousness to retaliate and lash out without regret bc then it would be The natural order of things but hell never be a monster he can only be a human being

but i think part of the reason shuro got so mad is bc he was putting all this effort into being considerate and feeling he got none in return. i think he wanted to be seen too! But i think he overlooked how he feels safe enough to express his rawest feelings w laios

But also i think laios was the first relationship shuro did not just let fizzle out at the first sign of interpersonal difficulty. bc lbr in this manner hes a coward. Disgusted by maizuru being his fathers mistress ? Dont talk it out n continue letting her treat him like a child while ignoring her. concerned hien and him will turn out like maizuru and his father—just let the friendship drift apart w time. concerned abt how inutade views her retainership when he knows his father just sees her as an oddity—dont say shit n just stew in it 5eva

passive aggression warrior!!!

Also interesting laios is like if we can make her monstrousness more manageable maybe she can live among ppl…the projection

The part at the end where toshiros like I know his gait from the sound of the bell by heart so i 100% know its him. he was listening the whole time! like a second heartbeat. Very metaphorical for their relationship. its a challenging relationship for the both of them but they dont give it up bc they care about each other.

thats love honestly i was genuinely moved by the interplay of toshiro laios n kabrus relationship. that laios promises hell eat w kabru on his terms even tho kabru wasnt upfront abt the monster thing initially giving him a motive to return. and how shuro gave him the bell as a promise hed bring him back to the surface no matter what. And he fulfills it even when laios leaves the bell behind bc he knows him so well To the surface and live among other ppl.

bc laios whole life he felt like he couldnt understand other ppl and they couldnt understand him even tho he wanted that connection that seemed so easy to everyone else

but thru kabru and shuro we see that no one in the world understands anyone else completely- thats why they enter the story w awful first impressions. As well as like well. Thats probs how laios comes off to other ppl

shuro calls him back bc the two as his peers are like u already have connections who value you (shuro) and deep connections youve yet to make w ppl who will be important to u going forward (kabru) and theyll both challenge and change deep seated issues about themselves to keep their connection w u alive

#dungeon meshi spoilers #What a fascinating and loaded dynamic #toshiro nakamoto #laios touden #shuro

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uchihaharlot · 2 days

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im in LITTERAL obito hell. Can i please get hcs for obito w total sub fem s/o. God, i really need therapy bc how much i need a man like him 😭

Nonny,

We all are in Obito hell, especially when he's balls deep slapping your ass to the rhythm of your moaning.

Obito is a weird mix of a sub/dom himself, he’s going to need to be shown the ropes, idk why but he's aggressive in a tender way. 🙈🙊😇

NSFW; both y'all getting fucked stupid; there is no way around it; Obito likes to be owned too; (lightly edited because its late asf.)

It’s kinda cute actually. 🥹 His s/o is such a patient woman!! Has no issues with forcing his aggression on her. But HOLY, once Obito is in charge.

Babygirl, you're fucked. In every sense of the word. He's not super fond of tying you up because he really likes when your nails dig into his skin. Obito, bless his little Uchiha heart, can't really feel much on his right side due to nerve damage. So you can freely bite and claw your way up his arm and throat. For the love of god, leave those delectable red marks in the shape of your lips. Hickey's are his love language, and Obito won't hesitate to consensually leave you a handprinted necklace. A testament to how a bit you both are unruly and unhinged in the heated throes of sex.

He's so shy, but easily warms up to it. Especially when you look that gorgeous stuffed with his cock in your mouth. He loves loves loves when you hum from the base of his shaft and up to his tip, sucking there just a little harder than the rest of him. Please press a kiss there too every so often, the tender aspect of it makes him whine. You sucking him as the slut he's always needed just drives him bonkers, and may make him cum fast. And that's usually embarrassing for some men, but when you both are really in the mood for one another...this is just the starting line. You haven't even been stretched around him properly.

His absolute favorite thing is overstimulation. For both of you, he particularly enjoys cock warming in your mouth until he's hard and ready again. It goes without saying, but most Uchiha have a really quick refresh rate (breeding kink checking in). And, this is just my two cents, I love all the Uchiha men, but Obito is built like a damn semi truck, ok? Cock, balls and fuck if I don't love good thighs on a man. Powerful enough to just keep going and going and going... So have your fun now, because you're getting railed faster than the 'midnight train to anywhere.' Your pussy will be crying and raw by the end of the next two hours.

Obito might not even go soft if he's sucked deep enough in your throat. The muscles in the back milk him so damn good. Of course Obito's ideal woman swallows his cum whole, but he understands if you didn't like it coming out your nose like last time. Regardless, once he's been worked good enough, you better grip the sheets and expect to be flipped on your stomach. I truly believe that Obito's favorite position is face down, ass up. He loves to see you shudder and writhe, how each thrust ricochets through your lithe frame.

It gives him the most intimate view of his beautiful cock filling you too, seeing how deliciously you swell around his girth that first thrust in. You being a whimpering mess is an added bonus, even if you try to be quiet, you're not. Not really. Probably don't even remember half the shit you moan out when he's busy fucking you this way.

'Gods Obi...just like that..' or 'Please, I need to cum.' He really enjoys edging you, and then once he does allow you to cum, fucks you into oblivion until you can't stand it anymore.

His large palm pressing your face into the mattress as you stare up at him with glazed eyes, his other hand gripping your ass. He's not thrusting himself into you, he's thrusting you over his cock. The perfect little sleeve, and you glide so easy over him. In and out, the delicate tap tap tap of his cock head against your sensitive cervix just is so good, you cum so fast within the few minutes of being conquered this way. He doesn't mean it if it hits too hard, his cock is just that divine and long. Several orgasms leave you drenching his shaft, but Obito is far from cumming fast this time.

Expect to be thrown into every position known to mankind, and ending with every Uchiha males favorite. The mating press. Oh it's so so so hot, looking into those dark onyx eyes this way. He's incredibly one of the best Uchiha to watch when they cum. His eyes gleam with the impending orgasm that makes his cock twitchy and thicker. Hand at your throat, squeezing every time he feels the dull throb of your pussy sucking his cock in more and more. Each gentle swell of your overused walls reverberates up and down his aching need.

'That's right babygirl, you love to cum all over me.' and all you can do it moan more, words are beside your minds ability to function other than thinking about how full you are.

I know this is supposed to be a dominate situation for you guys, but Obito can't help but be a tender dom. Asking you if you're gonna cum all over his cock again, begging you to cum with him. You both are babbling little fucked out idiots here. And the moment that throb in the depths of your cunt shoots through you, making the both of you pant over each other's mouths. His hand tightens around your throat the second you moan his name for the hundredth time tonight, that undeniable sound of gratification and satisfaction as you cum hard all over his cock. Shaking, twitching and incapable of breathing due to his grip. Adding another layer of your juices to his balls and thighs, the bed is a damn lake from the two of you and it probably is reaching up your back now.

A final groan in your neck as you feel your orgasm coaxing his to fruition. Obito is a softie when he finally cums, it's just so hot to him when you want him to use you this way. Its the best offering for a man who was deprived of basic human touch. Being milked for all that he is worth in the most beautiful manner. SO much better than all those solo years as a 'handy man.' His cum, like most Uchiha, is thick and warm. Coats your insides and each subsequent thrust thereafter your mutual climaxes causes some of it to seep out around your raw opening.

The time you two take to come down and actually gather your senses is euphoric. Obito traces your skin, and rubs your aching thigh muscles when he finally sits up.

All in all, he's down to please you however. Maybe next time he'll wear that mask you always ask about...

#uchiha clan #uchiha headcanons #obito uchiha #uchiha obito #obito headcanons #obito x reader

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kifkay · 3 days

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Winx & Specialists Dynamics that are so Precious to me

it makes sense that in the show, winx and their non-boyfriend specialists don’t interact much. but!! i’m very insane about codependent found families, and I want them all to love each other. so here’s my take on some tet-a-tet dynamics:

rare pairings:

Musa & Timmy: childhood frenemies. they used to go to the same middle school on Melody, and as type-A tweens do, had an intense, “you’re the only person I match myself to” kind of rivalry. they lost contact after Timmy moved away, chilled out considerably, reconnected in Alfea and had a wonderful banter-filled friendship since. because of how fast they slotted back into a friendship, some of their classmates genuinely thought they were siblings.

Tecna & Riven: got up from a rough patch. from “I dislike you but we both love Musa, so we have to be civil” to “you have more depths to you than I expected” to “now that I understand you, I can’t help but admire certain things about you” to “bitch, you are the only person who is as weird and clueless as I am, ARE YOU READY TO GO TO THE ARCADE AND ANNIHILATE KIDS FOR SHITS AND GIGGLES”

Flora & Brandon: little sister, older brother vibes. of similar temperaments and views, they enjoy spending time over a cup of tea — talking about everything and nothing. it’s therapeutic, almost.

(no one in the group knew that Brandon and Flo were good friends. once, when the two had to team up during a mission, Bloom couldn’t even finish saying: “it would be a good opportunity for you to get to know each ot-“, before the specialist-fairy duo were re-creating the most complicated and choreographed hand shake ever. jaws were on the floor.)

Aisha & Brandon: they are sporties, and they like doing sport things together! they don’t talk aside from exchanging brief encouragements and advice while out, preferring to spend their time in companionable silence. sorta like those dads who never talk to their buddies, but somehow have the strongest and longest bonds ever?

Helia & Bloom: artist besties. Bloom drags Helia out on picnics, where they practice observational drawing (and tiktok trends that Bloom desperately wants to reenact but none of the winx are good at arts); Helia responds by taking her out to see art museums in Magix. it’s a fun dynamic of Bloom being the bubbly gold retriever, and Helia being her black cat.

Tecna & Sky: they didn’t have much of a relationship until year 4. somehow, they both got really, intensely into weaponsmithing and built a joint workshop. they found that they enjoy working alongside each other and value each other’s insights. sky goes to tecna when he needs frank, un-sugarcoated advice, and tecna accompanies sky on hikes and other spirited adventures, for “bonding activities” (because he told her she doesn’t get out of her comfort zone enough). it’s a relationship of deep mutual respect.

Sky & Stella: childhood friends. they knew each other as children and enjoyed playing together (which is how Stella also knew Brandon pre-Red Fountaine). at least, until Stella was unofficially banned from Eraklyon because shenanigans, and they lost contact. they still jokingly call each other “My Lady” and “My Lord”.

Stella & Nabu. Both are flirty and extroverted people, who enjoy the spirit of showmanship. They have a friendly rivalry going of who can fluster the villain of the week the fastest.

canon bf-gf dynamics (dating in canon, open to interpretation otherwise):

Bloom x Sky: liked each other since the first meeting; bonded over being the friend group moms. (on unrelated note: bloom gentle parents her friends, while sky goes all exasperated cig mom on his team and repeats things like: “you better go to sleep right now, or so help me Dragon I will take away your Owl pilot privileges-“)

they are not the most outwardly affectionate couple of the winx, yet they are so wordlessly devoted to each other. sky will follow bloom to the ends of all dimensions, when she gets a calling from powers as mystical as she. bloom will always believe in him and see him as his own man, unlike the many who see him only as his father’s son. they were entwined by fate, long before one had met the other; yet, there’s the trust, the respect, the faith so strong — that could have only come from friendship forged and tested by fire.

Stella and Brandon: the hottest power couple; sole reason behind 60% of all student fairies/specialists/witches queer awakening.

they banter all. the. goddamn. time. these dorks are speaking a whole different language.

they are also most comfortable in each other’s company, being able to be their genuine, less polished selves. stella and brandon are both performers bred and born, playing the roles of a noble princess and a knight. it’s nice, to have a safe reprieve from all that acting.

Aisha and Nabu. their love was one that sneaked up on them. their distance, set by their discomfort at the idea of an arranged marriage, bridged as they transitioned from being reluctant comrades to friendly rivals to unwilling friends to best friends to “if someday the moon calls you by your name, don’t be surprised — because every night I tell her about you”

Tecna and Timmy: partners in crime, ride or die, sunny faith in each other — even when the other person doesn’t believe in themself. I have a whole post about them, go read that ;)

Flora and Helia: they are so. they are. they-

icons. the most romantic couple, the one that sets the standards, the one that gives their friends advice. they are extremely attentive to each other’s needs and tender with each other’s feelings.

flora can recite helia’s poems in her sleep, and trace his drawings with her eyes closed. helia brings mielle presents every time he stops by. flora has tea with helia’s dad every other tuesday; she keeps note of every time helia and saladin are supposed to meet up, to be able to whisk helia away after and distract him from his troubles. helia knows how to care of flora’s plants, and sends her lovingly assorted gift baskets semi-regularly.

Musa and Riven. their relationship is push and pull, is joy then sorrow.

it’s all in a drag of a cigarette, in the vortex of a starless night, in the hoarse laughter. “of all the people in the world, why did it have to be you?” she’ll say and smile.

“ ‘m afraid we’re doomed, lover,” he’ll reply, faux-casually, and smile back. both of them know it’s the truth.

their relationship was not built to last, not for the lack of love or try. maybe they were too similar — both headstrong, unbending, bleeding hearts. maybe they were just different enough not to understand their hurts. nevertheless, it was not built to last — but neither of them would ever bring to regret it. love prevails, no matter in what form in comes, or something like that.

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wolven91 · 3 days

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Drifting - Part 9

Casper’s sleep was deep and curative. Morning throughout the several weeks he had spent training with Qik and the geckins had been moments of him snapping awake, aware and scared.

His breath would catch and the young man would be *certain* that there was *something* inches away from him, merely reaching out to his vulnerable form.

This would repeat throughout the night, breaking up his sleep schedule until he really felt as if he was only getting the bare minimum most days despite falling into his bed almost as soon as he had gotten home.

This morning however, his eyes opened slowly.

Without the spike of fear that he was in danger, Casper was unsure if he was dreaming or not. He took stock of his surroundings and slowly tried to understand what was different today. He could see the mattress up close, the near perfect weave of the material being soft against his face and under his fingertips.

Blinking, he noticed his hand, which twitched in realisation that it was connect to thim.

At his twitch however, the large brown furred hand that was placed over it gently curled its own fingers around his, pressing between the spaces of his own digits. He lay there for a time, merely looking and watching without thought or opinion.

It was nice… The tiny action, so small that an observer would be hard pressed to say it had happened at all, filled his chest with something warm. Like a wooly scarf had been wrapped around him, wrapped around his heart.

There was a moment however, when he wondered where this hand had come from, so asleep his mind still was.

The arm the larger hand was connected to, disappeared out of his sight and somewhere behind him. When he tried to move however, that was when he discovered the weight on top of him.

It wasn’t ‘heavy’, that was the wrong word.

The pressure on top of him was reassuring. It belonged there. He felt secure in its ‘solidness’, its security. The pressure was mostly across his back and shoulders. But he felt thick, silky furry limbs intertwined with his own. Finally, that was when he noticed the whiskers that were protruding into his sight from above. The hairs were fine and very thin, so he had missed them during his still sleepy state. That was the moment he felt her head, resting on his from above, using his own head as a pillow, tucked beneath her chin.

Casper could feel that one of her long ears, that normally trailed down the back of her head and rested over her shoulders, had now fallen across his face. It’s fur even more delicate than the rest of what covered body and the exposed flesh of the inside of her ear was soft and warm, almost hot to his skin.

Her breath was steady, even and deep. With each inhale, he felt a broad chest slowly inflate across his back, gently pushing him into the mattress, before the mouth that laid over his ear, exhaled softly, the warm wind washing over his face beneath the blanket.

She was still fast asleep. Casper, still half asleep, relaxed. There was no threat, there was no danger. He was safe in Qik’s arms.

He closed his eyes and sighed, his own lungs taking in the warm air that smelt like her. Of wet forests and damp moss. His movement was enough to move her however.

She didn’t wake or stir, but instead her legs tightened, curling his body into her, while her that held his hand drew closer to the pair of the sleeping bodies. In this moment, neither mind could have said where either body began or where the other ended.

Casper closed his eyes, and in the early hours of the morning, fell back asleep.

He rested.

His body and mind recovered in a way that hadn’t been possible, since he had slept in a human made bed on a human owned planet, billions of miles away from where he was now. Qik, on the other hand, slept like a baby. She couldn’t sleep without a pillow to hold and had found her alternate option had been a perfect replacement.

Several hours later, when the system’s star had climbed high into the sky of the planet, the pair remained, entwined together.

Until a communicator gave a unique trill that made Qik’s ears twitch.

The pair of them ‘awoke’ in the traditional sense at the sound of the device, but only Qik disconnected, twisting her torso in a way that would have Casper straining and groaning to copy. Her hand apparently retrieved the device from the side table that crouched at the side of the oversized bed and reviewed the screen, above Casper’s head and out of sight.

“Mm.. Fair enough.” Qik murmured, more to herself than to Casper.

“What’s up?” The human asked, laying still, not sure how to address the fact that his teacher for the better part of two months was currently spooning him, and had done so for the whole night.

“Got a message from my company. They’re on their way back to pick me up.” She explained dismissively, twitching her arm and the device locking sound immediately played. “We should get up, get some breakfast.” She then advised, changing the subject.

“I’m not hungry to be honest.” Casper replied, still remaining there and being truthful. He felt fine. Better than fine in fact, better than he had in a long time. The lopel didn’t reply straight away, and instead she released him so she could begin a bone cracking stretch that had her entire body quaking at the apex. She let out a high pitched squeak and sighed.

“Well that’s too bad. You’re eating or I will think up a punishment.” She pointed out callously before rolling away and stranding up from the bed in a single smooth movement. She hadn’t even hesitated to reply, meaning that she was either serious, or had expected him to say that. Casper rolled onto his back and into the depression left in the mattress by the lopeljack. He could feel the material slowly rising back into position, despite his whole body weight and considered their differences.

He watched the lopel as she strutted over to the kitchenette, on the other side of his quarters. She held her arms across herself, stretching as she moved.

Despite being closer to his size than any of the other races he’d interacted with, the lopel was still a good three or four feet taller. She wasn’t as muscular as say a canid, nor nowhere closer to as big as an ursidain, but her toned and fit body showed evidence of a creature that was healthy and into their fitness.

What drew his eye was her hips.

Casper hadn’t interacted with many lopeljacks, in fact his total was one, so he had no frame of reference if the wide hips was normal for one of her kind. Whilst her whole body was toned, she could flex her arm and muscles would bulge from beneath her fur, it was her legs that were a sight to behold.

They looked like a mix between a cyclist’s, a runner’s and a weight lifter’s. She was in a perfect proportion, but in Casper’s unguarded state, his mind offered the idea that she could quite easily crush a watermelon between her thighs without much effort.

He blinked suddenly as the melon was replaced with his own head, then stamped down on the thought before it got anywhere.

His eyes then, almost guilty, paid attention to what the rump with it’s white fluffy tail and the body it was connected to, was doing, rather than ogle it.

“Aw come on, anything but-” The young man moaned openly, closing his eyes and letting his head sag in the beginnings of a tantrum.

“Shut it.” She ordered without hesitation. “You are eating it.” Qik cut in, as she poured more of the nutrient slurry into a bowl and began to return. She had two bowls, one in each hand.

“For god’s sake; *why*!?” The young man demanded, more as a petulant child than a full grown adult, unwilling to take his medicine. Qik merely rose an eyebrow and sat on the bed as Casper folded his legs in.

“Because it’ll make you feel better.” The lopel explained, pressing one of the bowls into his hands. The whitish, pinkish, mush looked just as unappitising as before with a plain spoon sat in it.

“I feel better already! Better than I have in weeks.” Casper explained, looking up, really not having the appetite to go through with this. He didn’t need to eat right now, he just had to convince her.

Qik, however, was having none of it. Hey tone was dry, despite dripping in sarcasm.

“Wow… I wonder why? Could it be… You ate a whole portion? Like a normal person and got a shower?” She asked, stumping Casper.

“I…”

“You feel better because you aren’t starving. You did some bare minimum self care. If you don’t keep it up, you’ll feel like shit again.” She explained, nearly ticking each point off with her spare hand.

“Now. Either you look after yourself, or have someone look after you. I’ve seen enough husk pilots and the galaxy doesn’t need another.” She concluded, spooning some of the mush into her own mouth from her own bowl and swallowing it without complaint.

“‘Husk pilots’? The hell is a ‘husk pilot’?” Asked the young man, his curiosity peaked once more. If he was going to be a ‘merc’ he’d need to know the terms and this was the first he’d heard of this.

“Eat that and I’ll explain. Deal?” Offered the lopel, gesturing to his untouched bowl with her spoon. Her eyebrow was still squirked, but now she wore a smirk.

She had him. He knew it. She knew it.

“I hate you.”

“Mm, you and everybody I’ve ever gone up against. Eat.” She agreed and ordered, completely unphased as she heaped another load of the slop into her mouth. Out of options, he obeyed.

She took a moment before she spoke around another mouthful.

“Okay. So ‘husk pilot’ is just a term for someone who’s a career pilot and nothing else.” She began, looking at the ceiling as she spoke, recalling the information.

“And I mean ‘and nothing else’. They’re good at what they do, real good, at the cost of everything else, they don’t *do* anything else..” She explained, swiping her spoon through the air, emphasising her words.

“How do you mean?” Casper asked as he swallowed, lowering the bowl after bringing it up to his face to eat. Qik made a ‘mm’ noise, pointing at him with her spoon before swallowing and continuing.

“Wipe your chin. So, they’re low drifters and are essentially addicted to piloting because they feel stronger or more powerful inside their rigs.” Casper used his wrist to wipe the drop of the slurry from his chin before pulling a face of agreement and nodding.

“I have to admit, it does feel… different in the rig. I feel… Better.” He admitted, the feeling of being inside a thirty foot hunk of hardware was unlikely anything he’d felt before.

“Mm, I suspect you or at least your people will be more susceptible to it. Any extended or hard campaigns, where you wont get breaks like the one we have now? You’ll be exposed to those effects by necessity.” The lopel said with a grave and serious tone. Nodding sagely as she tilted her bowl, the dregs of her meal pooling at the bottom.

“So what’s the deal?�� Casper said, tilting the bowl up to his lips, consuming the last of his breakfast.

“Ignoring their greater skill, the effect is in their body and minds. The body wastes away, they don’t use their muscles in the day and by the time they’re out of the mechs, maybe after three or four days of continuous fighting? Their bodies atrophy.” Qik explained, with a sad expression on her features. Casper suspected she had known a husk pilot before. The human’s face contorted though as he considered her words.

“Days? What about food? Waste?” He asked, aware that one of the first things he did after piloting the training mechs was to go sit on the toilet.

“Military or deployment caskets aren’t the same as our training ones. Same deal, but that mask they put on you? That can be a feeding tube. Likewise, the Nerve-Suits can be upgraded to handle waste and act as stillsuits.” She explained happily, as if discussing the weather. Casper grimaced.

“Grim.”

“Yeah, but that’s what the fighting is about. Who blinks first. The longer a pilot can be deployed, the more attrition they can pressure the other side with. Either the pilots complete the task instantly within the same day as being deployed, or they’re in it for the long haul, at least that’s my experience.” Qik tongued the back of her spoon, finishing off her own bowl.

“So… if I became a ‘husk’? What does that mean for me?” Casper asked, still curious.

“You’d be weak. Very weak. Like ‘wheelchair usage’ weak. You’d need a more specialised food slurry and it would be pumped into you like that first time. You remember your little hospital stint way back when?” She asked with a sharp grin, the young man wasn’t certain if she was still sore about that.

“Not something I’d want a repeat of.” He admitted truthfully.

“I doubted as much, I’ve had to have food by nose tube before. I hate it. Anyway, more reason to not push it too far. *And*! Thanks to the wording of our joint contracts, the geckins can’t make you do a long stint.” She explained excitedly, changing the subject rather smoothly.

“We got what’s called ‘blitz’ contracts. Either the operation is do-able in a single op, or it's not a valid operation to fulfil the contract and we get half pay with the contract marked as ‘complete’.”

This caused Casper to pause. The way she spoke was as if the geckins would try something ‘cloak and dagger’ style.

“Do you really think the geckins would be that underhanded?” Casper asked, defending them somewhat. He’d upset them, sure, by demanding he be free to leave at his pleasure, but hardly enough for them to sign him up to an operation he couldn’t do. Right?

Qik disagreed immediately.

“Yes. Without doubt or question.” She said sternly, more so than he had heard before.

“Really?” The young man asked, not quite believing her intensity. She took a moment to gently place the now empty bowl on the bed beside her before leaning forwards, capturing his entire attention.

“Casper… You represent something that is going to give them an edge. Not ‘could’, you ‘will do’. Already; they’ve got a ton of data that’s helping them.” She explained with a knowing tone. The young man wasn’t sure he could pick out when Qik was lying, but she’d yet to do so if he recalled. She had only wanted what was best for him, yet now she was speaking as if she knew more than she was letting on.

Casper squinted.

“How do you know?” He asked. The lopel paused before shrugging and giving a lopsided smile.

“I get bored easily.” She explained cryptically. Casper thought about that for a moment, trying to make it make sense, until all he could say was…

“Huh?”

Qik grinned, picking up her bowl and taking his from his hands and bounded away. Once more, Casper’s eyes were drawn to her rear and was reminded that once more; she was stark naked. It wasn’t the same as if she were human. He couldn’t see any major characteristics, the fur that covered her, made it so to call her ‘naked’ felt… incorrect.

His train of thoughts were derailed again as she spoke, returning to the bed.

“I broke into their offices and read their reports.” She explained with a mischievous air and a shrug. “I can’t help it, it’s a habit. My company stopped locking the doors after a while, took the fun out of it and I stopped reading their mail.”

“But what-” Casper started, but then Qik shook her hands, shushing him as she got back on track.

“Oh yeah, look, the geckins aren’t your friends.” She pointed out, throwing herself onto the bed.

“They aren’t happy they’re losing you and are going to do their best to keep you around. It’s not their government, so to speak, but more private organisations that want you. Deniable plausibility in my opinion, so they can’t be accused by the GC of anything shady, but these aren’t creatures you can let your guard down around. They’re logical.” She stated with a factual tone.

“That means…” Casper asked, drawing out the word to lead her to continue. The lopel pulled a face at the ceiling then continued.

“Let me put it this way. If they thought putting you on a slab would help them win the war with the ssypno, they’d have you there by the day’s end.”

Casper blinked.

“They’re at war with the ssypno?” He asked incredulously.

“Hah, that’s actually the most straightforward part of all this.”Qik replied with a smile, turning to rest her head on her hand, laying across Casper’s bed like an artist’s model.

“I didn’t even know.” He mumbled.

“Open secret. It’s not a ‘war’, it's ‘expansion skirmishes’. Basically some noble, years and years ago, found the geckins and tried to put them under the thumb. Geckins fought back, established themselves as independent, now the ssypno are trying to surround geckin systems with their own and the geckins are giving them a run for the money. For me and you? It's just a constant money stream.” She added with a shrug.

The pair were silent for a moment before the lopel sat up again and touched a hand to the lump in the covers that was Casper’s foot.

“Look, long story short? Don’t trust anyone but yourself and secondly, your company. Don’t let the geckins trick you or force you into a corner. It won't be pretty. And finally? You’ll need to be ready to fight, sooner rather than later.” She said with a tone that was as dangerous as a loaded gun with the hammer cocked back.

Even Casper didn’t miss the barely hidden warning.

“Wait… Why? Why did you say it like that?”

The lopel raised her communicator.

“I got the message when we woke up. Fight’s back on. We’re to be deployed.”

[r/WolvensStories]

[Ko-Fi]

#conservationverse #cuddleverse #human #hfy #haso #humans are space orcs #furry #human x furry #Lopeljack #rabbit

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