#and have said brother claim to their face that he was protecting them from said person

[thesilmarillionblog]

𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 ── Part 2

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: In the hopes that things would improve between you, you choose to lose your virginity to your friend Dean Winchester because you have been in love with him madly for a long time. However, he doesn't feel the same about you.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Warnings: +18! (Minors DNI),smut, unrequited love, angst, reader gets hurt, arguments, jealousy

Word Count: 5896

A/N: English is not my first language.

Dean hung out on the second floor with his new girlfriend while you and Sam watched TV. There were no audible voices. Well, you couldn't hear anything that far away, at least. You couldn't stop your mind from concentrating on them, even if you didn't want to. Your head hurt from the mix of the TV's sounds and the rain. Actually, the pain was in your soul.

You waited for regret to surface so you could condemn and despise yourself for opening yourself to Dean, your friend. But despite your best efforts, you were unable to sense remorse. You knew that you would do it again if you had a chance, taking back all that happened. How could you refuse him? You wished to memorize every moment of that night by being able to see every expression on his face. It was ridiculous that something so basic could no longer be made possible. The moments you spent with him are now only vague memories in your mind. All you could recall was the touch—his touch. It was still lingering on your skin. That would be enough.

It was clear to you from the way he laughed with her moments ago that the moment you had spent with him days before meant nothing. It was simply another hookup for Dean. Though you didn't think you'd reveal the truth from your side, you wondered what Sam would say about it. Sam was a good man, but you really weren't supposed to reveal to him that you slept with his brother since it would be too embarrassing. Additionally, you had given your virginity to his brother, whom you referred to as a "friend." There was no way you could tell him this.

You couldn't even recall the name of the show that was on TV. From time to time, Sam cracked up at the jokes. At least one person was feeling good. You looked at him attentively and observed that he had his attention on the show while he ate his popcorn.

He turned to face you, seeing your serious expression as he observed how you were reacting to the joke. In your arms, you held a pillow.

He said, “What's that look?”

“Seems like someone is enjoying, huh?”

“Why not? We all deserve a little relaxation after working so hard as hunters, don't you think?” He remarked, grinning, and turned down the TV. The instant the room was silent, you realized how much the noise had hurt your head. 

“Like your brother?” Compared to what you had anticipated, you sounded more serious. 

“Dean being Dean, you know.” Sam sighed and made a quick statement. Yes, you were aware of it. 

“How is your arm, by the way?” you said with a troubled look on your face. You've been feeling terrible for Sam because he kept you protected throughout the hunt and then ended up hurting himself. He was always considerate and cautious of you and Dean. It was in his nature. 

Sam smiled reassuringly and said, “It's fine. You know, things go wrong, and as long as you save the day, it's alright to get a little bit hurt.”

Stating, “I didn't want to get distracted that easily. I'm not sure what's wrong with me these days, but I promise I'll get better.” The claim that you were acting in this way without knowing why wasn't true. You were certainly aware of the exact cause of your growing distraction. 

If only Sam could read your mind and understand. Otherwise, there was no way for you to tell him straight what happened between you and Dean that night. You had any, yet deep down you needed to talk to someone. But you were very, really embarrassed. It's not like you were teens; you and Dean are grown ups. Reasonable ones, obviously. On the other hand, exposing your situation to him would be the same as declaring your love for him and would reveal your feelings for him.

“Really, Y/N, it's all right. What is done is done.” Sam looked at you, totally shutting off the TV. “Ignore what Dean said. You know how protective he is all the time. If you were the one who was harmed by me, he would say the same things. Though he may have come off as tougher, his intentions were good.”

"I'm afraid that's not true, Sammy. I mean, I know his intentions were good, of course, but I guess I touched his nerves this time for real.”

You attempted a smile, but it did not reach your lips before you realized Sam was trying to soothe you.

Sam replied awkwardly, “He cares way too much about the people he really cares about.” At these meaningless remarks, you both halted for a little period of time. “Well, it wasn't the best way to put it, but you get the idea. You might understand if you were raised by an older brother. He's not a bad person; there are just moments when I don't understand him.” 

“Of course not,” you cut him off right away. “You don't even have to say it. Don't get me wrong; I'm not saying anything negative about him. I would never.”

“I know, I know...” Sam spoke quickly. “Still, I'm simply advising you not to think too much about what he said previously, all right? We've been hunting for more than a year; it's not that he doesn't like you. Remember that a year ago, it was he who offered the invitation for you to join that team?”

You ultimately nodded as Sam attempted to convince you that Dean didn't mean to hurt you. 

“Yes,” you murmured to yourself. “Considering how often you two sustain injuries, a nurse would be beneficial. I wonder if Dean was looking for a nurse for himself and his little brother, or if he was looking for someone with hunting abilities.”

“Let's say you're just talented enough to take a part in that very humble team,” Sam laughed. “And you're being a nurse is just another plus.” 

You sighed and then gave him a genuine smile, saying, “Fine, if you say so.” You had finally been somewhat diverted from your thoughts about Dean and his girlfriend by a brief conversation with Sam. 

Curious, you said, “How about you and Ruby, by the way? It seems that you two have become a very good couple, haven't you?”

“We're looking for something…to work out. But it's okay for now,” Sam remarked hesitantly. You found it amusing that he was so forthright about everything else than relationships. 

“You seem to be very much in love.” Not knowing how to present the matter to Dean without taking any suspicion, you offered an innocent glance to Sam. Sam was smart in every other way. Sometimes he observed and gazed at people as though he could see right through them. 

“She's like no one I've ever met,” Sam said timidly. “I think it will take some more time to work it out, but it's fine so far.”

“I'm glad to hear that.”

“How about you?”

You hesitantly replied, “What?” as he sent you one of his suspicious stares. 

“I've been thinking about lately and come to know... that it has been a year and I didn't even see you with anyone. That seems a little odd, don't you think?” Sam arched an eyebrow. “Are you not seeing anyone, or are you keeping it as a secret or something?”

You shifted on the seat and hugged the pillow against your arms a bit extra to help you unwind. In the end, he knew nothing about Dean or you. There was no reason to be anxious. It was only chitchat. 

“No, of course not!” You stopped him off before he started asking his questions. “It isn't... I'm not interested in anyone right now.”

“Really?” With a look of suspicion, Sam inquired. “We met other men throughout the cases, and they seemed to be interested in you. How can you tell whether you're interested in one of them if you don't give it a shot?”

“Sam, I don't like hookups. Something like that is not what I want.” However, you've turned into Dean's one hookup. The thought briefly ripped through your soul, given how little you've been talking recently, as if there were an unambiguous wall between you that you could not break down no matter how hard you tried.

“That's not what I'm saying. I'm just trying to get the point that you should give people a chance to win you over. How in the world would you know if you liked someone or not without that?”

“I don't want to,” you interrupted, concentrating solely on Dean. It would be simpler to get Sam to understand you if you could tell him how you feel about Dean. 

Sam groaned and said, “Fine. It was just an advice.” 

“I know, thanks,” you responded, putting on a timid grin. “Will you continue to watch TV for a while? It's growing late.”

Sam said, “I think I will,” as he looked at his watch. “Are you leaving?” 

You said quietly, “Yeah,” as you peered out the window to see the weather. It was pouring. You would have hated sunny days even more if you had gotten intimate with Dean on a sunny day. Rainy weather used to be something you enjoyed, but now it just hurt.

“I think it's better if you stay though,” Sam said, taking a deep breath and using one of his fingers to show you the pouring rain. “You're not the best driver.”

With a harsh tone, you said, suddenly tossing the pillow over his face. “Did you just insult me?”

“That's not insulting,” Sam shot it back at you. “I'm just saying that you're no Hamilton.”

You said, “You have no idea,” and you couldn't help but smile as you recalled the day Dean forbade you from driving on rainy days after you nearly had an accident. Dean continued to get anxious when it started to rain while you were driving because of that day. His Baby was more important than anything. 

“Will you be watching TV or?” Taking back the remote control, Sam asked. 

“No, thanks; enjoy yourself.” Setting the pillow down next to the coach and stretching your arms, you yawned. 

You couldn't help but notice the agonizing heavy feeling in your chest as it began to flare up again like tiny needles as you made your way upstairs. Even though you didn't want to hear anything, you were listening for any sounds coming from Dean's room. As you passed, your movements almost seemed to slow down, but you quickly realized what was going on, and you entered the dark room where you would be spending the night, as if your brain didn't want to hear anything.

You had been repeatedly asked to leave the same house by Dean and Sam and start to live with them, but for whatever reason you were unaware of, you had refused. If they repeated the offer, you would most likely take it immediately. God, even if you just lived in the same house, you would probably fall even more in love with Dean. During hunts, it was even sufficient to see him for a few hours. Your heart ached to think about his face, his grin, and every joke he ever told.

Has the night some weeks ago caused you to ruin what you had? You didn't feel any regret, but as you noticed that Dean was becoming more aloof, regret started to consume you.

You'd just gotten out of the shower when your hands found one of Dean's t-shirts. You desired to wear it like you had some weeks prior. Back then, it wasn't a big deal; instead of complaining, he would just make jokes about how little and amusing you looked in them. But things were different today, and you knew it wouldn't be proper to wear it while he had a girlfriend.

If he truly had affections for someone, you didn't want to spoil things for him.

They laughed a little too loudly as you lay down on the bed and pressed his t-shirt against your chest as if it would bring him further closer. Dean's laughter mixed with Jo's. You tried, devastated, to focus on the soothing sounds of the falling rain and on the absurd or hazardous situations that had transpired during the hunts. It was useless. 

That was the moment you became aware of how really alone you were. Perhaps Sam was correct about telling you to pursue a romantic connection. However, how could it be possible when you were already deeply in love with someone? Anytime Dean was around, your heart felt like it was going to explode. You had no idea how to handle things like that. 

You set his shirt down and let it fall to the ground, acting as if doing so could shield you from the overwhelming feelings that Dean had given you. God, how could you possibly let go of your feelings for him when you couldn't even let go of a single piece of fabric with ease? 

You were so miserable and pathetic that you were unable to stop crying this time. You dreamed of something you could never have as the tears flowed down your cheeks and onto the bed. You will always cherish the beautiful memory the night gave you, but at what cost?

You were sobbing, but you weren't sure if it was from the noises Dean and Jo were making or from the dreams that could only have come true in your head. 

Your impulse to pick up Dean's t-shirt from the floor gradually vanished as your tears dropped to the bed and the pain consumed your entire being. Until today, you had no idea how much you actually loved him. 

“What happened?” With a big smile on her face, Jo placed her fingers around Dean's face and inquired in between laughter. She teased this thick neck with a quick, playful kiss. On his lap, she became still. 

Dean's fingers raised her skirt and were ready to push her underwear aside. Jo continued moving on Dean's lap, making herself wetter by rubbing herself over Dean's boxer, her hands lingering on his wide and bare chest with desire. 

“Nothing,” a rough-voiced Dean said. From the room where you were staying, he thought he heard something. He had heard you took the upstairs before he'd gone to the bathroom. You most likely made the decision to stay since it was pouring rain outside. You definitely didn't know how to drive in such conditions. He shuddered, remembering when you nearly crushed his baby and sent it to his sweet vehicle burial. 

Jo touched Dean's naked chest and paused her palm at his abs, saying, “You seem to be like thinking something else.”

“I wasn't,” Dean lied. It was not significant at all, so there was no need to provide details.

“I was just thinking though,” Jo said, attempting to find the right words to say. 

“About?”

“I think we'd be a great team, you know.” With a sly smile, Jo continued to stroke Dean's abs with the tips of her fingers. “As you are aware, Sam, you, and I would make an excellent team since we are now somewhat of a family, since I am also a hunter. Do you not think?”

Dean moved slightly on the bed, thinking of you, irritated at Jo's disregard for you, as if the details weren't even important. You were a member of the team. He was the one who initially made the offer to you in fact. Besides, they weren't even paired up. He said nothing about it so as not to hurt her feelings or make her feel humiliated if she brought it up. 

“How about Y/N?” In an attempt to lighten the mood and soften the air, Dean attempted to smile at her, but his smile did not reach his lips.

“She's a nurse,” Jo said, as if it were an insult. Dean felt uncomfortable and uneasy because Jo was attempting to push out the details of what she truly wanted to say about you. Despite her best efforts to seem polite, she came out as cunning and bitter. That was something Dean did not appreciate. 

“So?” Dean arched an eyebrow in questioning. “She is the only one still alive due to the terrible things that went wrong; her family was full of hunters just like ours. She doesn't even need to, yet she still has passion. That's very encouraging, in my opinion. I mean, continuing to work in the family business while also doing her professional job responsibilities. That requires guts.”

“Are you defending her?”

“I am,” Dean said in a firm and harsh manner. Jo was still on top of him, trying to get him to say nasty things about you, and he didn't enjoy her attempts at distracting him with handiwork. Dean felt unease and a strong sense of aggressiveness.

He never explicitly expressed his admiration for you for persevering through everything and for having the guts to face your fears. Jo recognized how much he genuinely admired you in his heart when he explained how excellent you were at what you did. Even though you occasionally were easily sidetracked, you were a professional.

Jo sighed, but she didn't give a damn about Dean's opinion of you. In the end, you posed no threat. For nothing at all. 

“I don't think your dad raised you and Sam for doing some charity to the orphan hunters and helping them to find a belonging,” Jo said. Although she made an effort not to seem cruel, it was the reality for her. “I am aware of the danger she took for Sam when you all were hunting last time. It is a weakness to be easily sidetracked in this.”

Dean's eyes grew enraged as Jo carried on speaking in a sinuous manner. She was aware of his dislike of others discussing the persons they cared about in this way. Particularly about the people he respected and gave enough thought to. 

Dean whispered, “Jo,” but it seemed more like he was threatening her. “Stop this fucking nonsense now. I'm serious.” 

“Do you have a soft spot for her or something?” Jo inquired once again. She also bit her lips invitingly while gently raising her skirt to reveal her pussy to Dean's gaze in an attempt to divert his focus elsewhere.

Her eyes were full of promise. In particular, Dean found it amusing when ladies looked at him with such passion. 

Dean immediately felt a sense of relaxation as his hands moved to her hips. He sighed and refused to answer. “Are we just going to talk?” he asked. She began removing her clothes rapidly while he licked his lips and observed. 

“Hopefully not,” Jo laughed in response. She was relieved that she and Dean had stopped talking about you. “Let our bodies talk in their very own, divine language.”

Dean switched the positions before she could say anything more. Now that he was on top of Jo, he was urgently kissing her while his mind was racing with ideas he wanted to put down for the night. 

Dean roughly spread Jo's legs wider and pulled her underwear aside, freeing himself from his boxer. With a single forceful shove that caused them both to moan loudly, he gave his firm cock a few strokes and pushed himself in Jo beforehand. That was an excellent way to get some real comfort now. 

Jo hadn't kept it low at all, so Dean put his hands on her mouth to silence her, causing her to sigh into his hands without intending to wake anyone. He picked up his speed and began to push into her rough and fast enough to satisfy both of them, knowing that she enjoyed being fucked raw and fast and that Dean also wanted to find his release. 

While he continued to fuck her, Dean warned her to "keep it low," suppressing his own groans.

She was, however, loudly groaning in Dean's hands, locking her legs around his hips, matching his speed as she raised her hips, as if she wanted everyone to know that she was getting fucked by Dean. Dean warned her to turn down the volume once more, but it didn't help.

In an attempt to find his release, Dean thrust into her more quickly, giving the impression that he was being forced to come—as if this were a mission or one of his hunts. He was striving to find his pleasure when he felt nervousness take over his body. He wasn't accustomed to feeling this way, especially around women.

His other hand tightened on Jo's tits, and he ran his fingers through her ass to help himself. His movements were forceful and impatient. All he wanted was for her to be somewhat silent so that he could focus more easily. It wasn't like Dean liked to be all crazy harsh on ladies or anything; he just needed to experience the closeness of a true, sincere touch, which was difficult to find at the moment.

He was on the verge of getting there, but he was unable to seize the ideal moment of pleasure and find relief.

Though it wasn't appropriate to think about it right now, Dean's thoughts began to form around the moment he and you had shared weeks earlier as he continued to stroke his hardness into Jo's warm pussy while muttering under his breath. It was as though his body had a mind of its own and knew when it was best for him to get what he was looking for.

His thoughts were hopelessly consumed by the sensation of your tightness and those moments of adorable small sounds that you attempted to hide from him. Dean attempted to concentrate on the woman who he was actually fucking into, not feeling proud of how he thought about you while he fucked Jo into the covers. Thinking about how he fucked you wasn't fair to no one at all. But his own body, which was attempting to steal what it desired by using Jo's body, was not under his control.

Him fucking Jo was becoming a battle between Dean's body and mind. Pleasure and reason; soul and mind.

Jo began to quiver instead of groan loudly, and as Dean withdrew his fingers from her lips, she cried out, “Will you come inside?” 

Dean instantly said, “No,” realizing that he hadn't been wearing a condom throughout his frantic sex with her. “Stay still.”

With a hint of rage, Dean sank his fingers into Jo's flesh and his head into her sweating neck, fiercely shutting his eyes. He was going insane as he struggled with his own thoughts, which were attempting to recall every little detail about your body and how you responded and tightened around his member. He didn't want to go back in time mentally and get pleasure thinking about the night with you while he was inside someone else. It wasn't fair for any. 

It was just an impulse decision made in the heat of the moment. Still, Dean's mind continued seeing the body underneath him to be yours, making him picture every single detail of how he took you and how you immediately clenched around him the moment he entered you. He was taken aback by how tight you were; you were like anyone he had ever fucked. 

As the fantasies overtook his thoughts, Dean became aware of his surroundings as Jo began to speak dirty to him, telling him how much she enjoyed it when he gave her such an aggressive fuck. Dean wasn't aware of himself till now that he started to fuck into her pussy quicker and harder.

Dean's body tensed as his eyes opened. He was pushing his cock in and out of Jo without intending to get off as he thought about you. He was a little caught by what had transpired in a split second. 

Jo gasped and said, “Why did you stop?” To regain his attention, she raised her hips higher. 

“Nothing,” Dean said, losing his temper and collapsing to his side as he felt his cock gradually soften. 

Jo was bewildered, but she became enraged when Dean abruptly quit fucking her and left her feeling unsatisfied. 

She sighed and said, “You want me to get on top?” although she sounded more like she was frustrated. 

“No.”

“What the hell is your problem?” she said, nailing Dean's chest. “Come on-”

“I said, 'no.' Alright?” In an attempt to disassociate himself from Jo, Dean stated. Even though he knew it was just about him, he tried to keep his cool down despite feeling like rage was taking him.

When she realized Dean wasn't in the mood and was most likely experiencing some sort of dysfunctional erection, she simply remarked, “Anyways,” without caring about it at all. “I promised to go out with some friends tonight, you know,” she said, putting on her clothes again.

“Alright. It's pouring outside though.”

“Yeah, and?”

With a sigh, Dean said, “Nevermind,” understanding that you were the only on who found driving in such weather difficult.

Dean quickly showered right after Jo departed the house, then jerked off just after he entered the bathroom. Even if things started to seem strange with Jo, his body still wanted some release to ease the tension. He was horny and furious at the same time. Though he was a man of action and he wasn't the biggest fan of taking himself in hand in the shower like a teenager, it worked this time. It felt good enough.

Dean gasped in frustration, picturing your gentle touches and the way he felt within you while he fucked Jo and how he thought about you while. The easiest way for him to regain control of his body was to stop. That was all—him and you were simply pals who took pleasure from each other for one night. You were lovely, so it wasn't that he wouldn't want to fuck you again, but it would just be weird. That was not Dean's type of thing. 

With one arm folded behind his head, Dean lay on the bed and tried not to think too much. Perhaps he was simply too exhausted.

Even though you were exhausted, your body woke up in the middle of the night due to a headache and a dry throat. You walked silently downstairs to the kitchen so as not to wake Sam, Dean, or his girlfriend. 

You cursed yourself for being so emotional and sensitive, crying your eyes out till you went to sleep. Perhaps you were about to have your monthly period very soon. You were forced to put on your headphones by Dean and his companion in order to block out the noises they created all night.

What a waste, you thought. Believing that once you committed yourself to Dean, things would improve between you two. The situation became worse because of it. There was now such a strong and lengthy barrier between you that, despite your best attempts to remain composed, you were unable to climb it at all without being exhausted. If you were more courageous than this, you would have let everything pass by, turned your back to the team, and concentrated on your actual work. 

After turning on the light and rubbing your swollen eyes, you sipped your water and sat down next to the window. You couldn't even get enough sleep, and you had to work all day. You required a long vacation. 

As soon as you placed the glass down on the kitchen sink, you turned around and saw Dean staring back at you. He was half nude, wearing just sweatpants; his broad chest was all naked. You jumped and gasped in fear because you didn't hear him approaching. 

Dean seemed a little confused for a moment when he saw your ruined hair and swollen eyes, but he said nothing. 

He stated, “You're so jumpy,” in a low voice as if another person may hear them. 

You paused in front of Dean and said, "I didn't hear you coming," but all you did was stand there and remain still, your heart racing. 

Ignoring him and returning to your room was difficult. Though your soul ached and yearned for more time with him, your mind knew that nothing would happen between you.

“Why are you still awake?”

You suddenly snapped, “Why are you questioning me?” but then you added, “I was thirsty.”

He said, “It makes us two,” and grabbed a glass of water for himself.

Can't help but notice how you looked, he remarked, “Your eyes appear somewhat swollen.” He couldn't help making a comment this time, a sense of concern overwhelming him.

Trying to sound convincing enough, you said in a hushed voice, “I just woke up. Couldn’t sleep properly.”

“You're going to work tomorrow, aren't you?” Dean inquired as if attempting to strike up a conversation after such a lengthy period. You haven't been speaking properly recently for the obvious reason. 

You answered, “Um, yeah,” and lightly stroked your hand to see whether it hurt. It no longer did. Thank goodness you weren't seriously injured. You've also taken plenty of time off from work. It would be best if you started working right away to take your mind off of Dean and all that was going on. There was a lot to take in. 

“But can you work though? Is your hand okay, by the way?”

“Yes, I suppose there's nothing to worry about. It's stopped hurting. Actually, I missed my job. It's been too long since I took a break.”

You took a deep breath and went to head back to your room, saying a quiet, "Good night," but Dean stopped you by grasping your arm after he finished his drink. “Wait,” he quietly whispered. 

He released his hold on you and gently caressed your skin in an attempt to apologize for being a little too harsh on you. You turned to face him, perplexed. “Yes?” you said as you awaited his next words. 

He seemed unable to find the right words to say, so he said, “Whatever happened during the hunting... It wasn't just your fault.” The moment he brought that case back, your heart pounded. 

You took a deep breath to keep yourself from being upset as you thought back to what he had said to you, his hurtful remarks, and how annoyed Dean was as a result of your distraction. 

You managed to stutter, “It's okay,” and try to smile sympathetically at him. “You are right in every way. I should have exercised more caution. After all, he's your brother.”

“No, I'm not right about everything.” Dean took a deep breath and held your still-healing hand. “I was responsible as much as you were. After all, I am the team's oldest member.” He attempted to lighten the situation with a smile, but for some reason neither of you felt like it. 

Dead had told you, just to your face, that Sam was extremely important to him, as if you had someone in your life to worry about. He hated himself for not being more compassionate after realizing he was simply being harsh.

“It was just... in the heat of the moment,” Dean made an effort to explain his behavior. But the way your eyes met, it seemed like he meant something very different.

“I know."

“I only wanted you to be more cautious; I didn't want to hurt you.” He looked into your reddened eyes and added, “Not just for me or Sam, but especially for your own good,” with such genuineness that it seemed he could see what a wreck you were on the inside. How messy you were.

“You did not hurt me at all. I will proceed with greater caution, as I had said previously.” You let his hands lightly brush across yours. Your heart had melted at such a simple, one-time gesture. Though you knew you couldn't, your body was aching to get closer to him. 

He finally released your hand after a little while. However, if he hadn't taken it in the first place, it would have hurt less. 

You hoped with all of your heart that this moment in the kitchen with Dean had gone differently. You wanted to be closer, cuddling, laughing, or doing anything else that would be tender and intimate. But you two were farther apart than before. Your eyes would have said everything about how much you wanted him if they could communicate.

“I honestly didn't intend any of the things I said to you before or later. I want you to understand this.”

“I do, Dean.”

Dean said, “I know things are a little awkward between us, but I don't want it to be like this,” before you could say anything more. “I hope that you continue to feel at ease with me. I suppose we haven't discussed it appropriately so far about this.”

Your cheeks suddenly flushed scarlet at the mention of your circumstance, and fear shot through your veins “It's really okay,” you nodded to him and replied in a hurry. “Everything's alright.” 

You felt burdened with the thought that he could be concerned that you might tell Jo. Should that be his worry, you might reassure and soothe him. In a whisper, you said, “I wouldn't...tell Jo.” 

Dean opened his mouth to say something, then scowled instead. His expression showed signs of uncertainty. Given how often they had been hooking up only, he wasn't really sure if he and Jo were a thing at all. 

He felt a little guilty as well as responsible for initiating the kiss that night since he was aware it was him. 

“You know, I don't want you to feel awkward. Don't let anything go to waste or let this ruin what we have.”

Your heart raced with hopelessness again as Dean blatantly said that he wanted nothing to change and that you should move on from the past. At this point, you couldn't tell if he was genuinely unaware of your emotions. It was better if he hadn't even opened his mouth in the first place and stayed silent. 

Since you believed you were trying your best to keep things calm between you and him and maintain whatever relationship you had with him, you wanted to ask him if there was anything you could have done to make him feel that way about you or did you make him feel uncomfortable around you. It wasn't like you were still holding out hope. You were not anticipating this any longer.

Despite his repeated promises not to hurt you, he continued to do so without even realizing it.

You nodded to him quickly and answered, “Of course, I don't want this either,” with a heavy heart. “I would not want to ruin.”

You gave him a little smile and a mumble of "good night," then turned back toward your room. You would have found the strength to cry a little bit more if your eyes weren't sore from crying so much hours before. But at that moment, all you wanted to do was sleep, without really considering anything.

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A/N: Please, let me know what you think about this one. Comments and reblogs are very appreciated! ^^

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[nocreativityfornames]

Nb!Belphie is making me think about S1!Belphie and I need to get these thoughts out so here's me making a post about it

You know how after MC reveals that they're human Belphie immediately shows distrust of them and goes for an attack? How even after getting past the fact they're human, he still gets super protective over Beel when he expresses wanting to make a pact with them, almost like he's scared of his brothers getting too close to MC?

The explanation I came to for this is that after what happened to Lilith, aka her death ( not really but it's what he believed happened at the time ), Belphie must've developed an irrational fear of humans. But not in the way you'd think, he's not inherently scared of them, he's scared of what the consequences of getting close to one could be. He's scared of his loved ones getting too close to a human, because the last time that happened, he lost his sister.

And no matter how illogical that fear might be, given that they're no longer in the Celestial Realm and thus, are no longer in danger of being subjected to any punishments for associating with humans, he still fears that. Trauma at its finest, it doesn't make much sense.

So when he sees his brothers not only getting close to a human but also making pacts with them, he feels on alert and uneasy. Even more when it comes to Beel, given how close they are, and how protective he already feels over him.

And thinking about this, as I stated in the title, made me think about S1!Belphie. Because what if during S1 Belphie was still dealing with that fear? What if that was also part of the reason he didn't want the exchange program to happen?

I mean, we know he hated humans. We know he despised them and wanted them away from him and the Devildom, that he blamed them for Lilith's death ( and also himself ), and couldn't bear the thought of the program happening because it would mean demons meddling with humans in a way that wasn't the usual "want to corrupt them/have their soul" dynamic and we know that he felt betrayed by his brothers when they were supportive of the exchange because to him humans were THE ENEMY and by accepting this arrangement his brothers were disrespecting Lilith.

And so, once trapped in the attic, his plan was to kill MC and ruin the exchange program. For all reasons above.

"He also planned to end humanity." Yes...and no?

I mean, yes, the game alludes to Belphie wanting to destroy humanity more than once, these are screenshots of it:

But honestly? I don't think he ever seriously considered doing this.

Yes, he hated humans more than anything, but I don't think he ever seriously wanted to kill ALL OF THEM, no. I think that he probably only said that in the heat of the moment, being so angry at Lucifer and all.

But maybe that's naive of me, maybe he DID want to end humanity. However, even if that was the case, I'm thinking he most likely gave up on the idea not too long after because it never gets brought up again after the flashback of him lashing out at Lucifer, or the scene with Diavolo saying he was a danger to humanity before locking him up.

Because come on, even if Belphie wanted to end humanity, he would've never been able to. I mean, there's no way that after killing MC his brothers would've just let him get past them and make his way to the human world. And through the 8 layers of hell no less, since portals can only be opened with Diavolo and/or Lucifer's permission.

And even if for some miracle he could escape the brothers, that's still 8 layers of hell to WALK through and he'd still have Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon, and Simeon trying to stop him.

So yeah, there's no way that part of his plan could've been accomplished, and spending that much time in that attic alone in his head, he must've realized that and gave up.

Going back to the topic of why exactly he wanted to kill MC and end the exchange program though...

What if beyond all that burning hatred towards humans, he was also scared? What if he feared, too, that his brothers would end up taking a liking to MC? After all, the second human exchange student was assigned to their house, they were supposed to live with them, be in their lives 24/7.

What if Belphie was scared that his brothers would get close to that human? Scared that by befriending them, his brothers would be destined to meet a terrible fate later on?

What if he was scared of his family getting hurt?

Because again, he's got that irrational fear ( it's more a theory than a fact but you get what I mean ) that associates getting close to humans with danger, pain, grief, and all sorts of terrible stuff, thanks to his then unresolved trauma with Lilith, The Great Celestial War, etc.

And so by killing MC and ending the exchange program, he not only thinks that he's teaching everyone a lesson, revenging Lilith, and honoring her memory by reminding the others of her, but he's also convinced that he's protecting his brothers.

He's convinced that MC is a threat to his family, and that he's doing good by eliminating that same threat.

[entitled-fangirl]

Tradition.

Cregan Stark x Pregnant!reader

Summary: the reader and Cregan go to King's Landing to support her nephew, Luke's, Velaryon claim. She goes into early labor away from the North.

Warnings: Aegon is his own warning, body shaming, talks of brothels and stuff, labor, blood, death, fighting, all that stuff.

A/n: Based on an ask! I'll proofread later 😭

Masterlist

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Cregan held out his hand to help his very pregnant wife out of the carriage. 

He absolutely hated riding by carriage. It seemed pointless when you could ride a horse instead. But when summoned to King's Landing by King Viserys with his Targaryen wife to join the rest of her family, he had to guarantee her safety on the travel by any means necessary.

Alicent's face lit up at the sight of her daughter, practically running over Cregan to get to her. She embraced the pregnant woman tightly, "Oh, my love! How you've changed!" 

Y/n hugged her mother back just as firmly with a smile, "I've missed you, mother."

Alicent pulled away and admired her grown girl, "King's Landing is better with you here." Only then did Alicent notice Cregan, "Oh. Lord Stark."

Cregan bowed his head politely, "My queen."

"Cregan has been eager to see King's Landing again," Y/n chirped in, "He has only been a few times."

Alicent's brows lifted, "Really? I wouldn't have thought that."

He nodded, "I could've been patient enough to wait until after the birth, but alas, when the King calls, you answer."

Alicent gave a forced smile, "Right. Of course. The birth." She looked to her daughter, "How far along are you, my dear?"

"Nearing eight moons now," she said nervously with a hand on her swollen stomach.

Alicent didn't miss the equally nervous and protective look in Cregan's eyes.

…

Dinner that night was beyond tense. 

What was joy for Viserys was misery for everyone else.

Watching the king decay at the table and the rest of them squabble over trivial matters that seemed of great importance.

"A toast to the young princes and their betrothed."

Aegon leaned over to his nephew Jace, "Well done, Jace. You'll finally get to lie with a woman."

A glare was sent his way by Jace and Baela.

Y/n caught on and quickly looked to Aemond, who sipped his wine with no reaction.

"You do know how the act is done, I assume?" Aegon continued. "At least, in principle. Where to put your cock and all that?"

Jace's jaw clenched, "You can play the jester if you wish, but hold your tongue before my betrothed."

"Aegon." Y/n hissed through her teeth across the table.

His head immediately snapped to his sister in annoyance, "What?"

"Let it alone."

He scoffed lightly, "What do you mean? I'm only asking." He gained a grin, "It's not like I have to ask Lord Stark that. Look at the state of you!" He gestured to her swollen belly.

Cregan's grip on his fork tightened, turning his knuckles white. 

She placed a hand over her stomach and grimaced, "At least I was able to find a husband that wanted me. Mother had to force you to marry the only girl around, and that was Helaena."

Aegon gave an incredible glare, one that his sibling shot back.

Aemond became amused.

"Let us not fight at the table," Alicent reprimanded lightly.

Y/n looked to Jace, who gave a small nod of gratitude.

Silence filled the room until the King's long monologue of the need for peace in the house. 

Rhaenyra and Alicent gave small and seemingly back-handed toasts but Y/n was too set on the continuous mischievous look in her brother's eye.

And she called it right when he stood and moved to whisper in Baela's ear.

It was clear that it was muttered with the intention of riling up Jace, which it did quite well.

He stood up in anger, slamming his fist on the table.

Cregan, who had remained entirely silent thus far, instinctually moved a hand across his wife as if shielding her and the child.

The tense toasts only got worse from there.

Luckily, the music seemed to drown out the intensity, as well as Jace's good gesture of faith in dancing with Helaena. 

Y/n leaned over to Aemond, "Brother."

His brow raised as his eye traveled to look at her.

"It has been… long since I've seen you. I see you've faired quite well."

He hummed lightly, "I see you've… managed."

She could feel Cregan's intense gaze from behind her, "Wh…what do you mean?"

Aemond smirked and leaned in to where only the two Starks could hear him, "Inpregnanted by a brute-"

Cregan's jaw clenched so hard he feared for his teeth. His voice was a hushed whisper, but still held furiously to it, "Watch your words."

Y/n held Cregan's shoulder, "Let us not do this here."

Aemond smirked with Cregan sighed and leaned back in his chair.

When Viserys was escorted from the room due to his pain, Y/n decided to leave as well, and Cregan behind her.

They claimed a pregnancy illness and Rhaenyra smirked, knowing she'd used the same card many times.

…

Cregan helped her into bed, "I don't understand their need to crawl under everyone's skin like beetles."

She sighed, "They've never known life outside of a castle, Cregan. They've never been told no, and they never will. It's best to let it go."

"They mock us both. My name has been through dirt, blood, and tears, and I do not care, but yours?" He scoffed, "I will not stand by the next time you are mocked."

"It is only for a little while longer," she rebutted.

"Know that I do this for you, and only you, my love."

She smiled, "That's all I ask."

…

"The north has done a number on you, really," Aegon said as he appeared at her side.

She tilted her head, "I don't know what you mean."

He shrugged, "You're…" he then gestured his arms widely. "I dunno… well indulged?"

She pushed down the tears that welled up in her eyes, "Why do you care?"

He scoffed and leaned in towards her, "You know how many friends of mine asked for whores that looked like you? Many."

"And?"

"And?" He asked mockingly. "And? Who wants to fuck a whore that looks like you now?"

Her jaw went slack for a moment, completely shocked by his words. 

Finally, with now watery eyes, she spoke. "You're the worst kind of man, Aegon."

"Oh? And what kind is that?"

A sudden punch came from nowhere, landing on Aegon's jaw and sending him to the ground. 

Cregan stood over the man's body, a predatory look in his eyes and a murderous tone in his voice, "One that can't defend his fucking words."

Y/n pulled Cregan back, "Stop!"

He wanted to fight against her, but he knew better. His shoulders rolled back and he stood tall. 

She cursed under her breath as she took in exactly what had unfolded, "They could have your head for this, Cregan."

"Only if your brother wishes to defend his words against me again," Cregan scoffs as he looks down at the man.

Aegon sits up and huffs, wiping his nose that begins to leak blood. "Northern brute-"

"-Aegon!" She reprimands. 

Cregan glared at Aegon for a while, then scoffed and walked off a few steps to calm himself.

Aegon stands on shaky legs as he glares at his sister, "I liked you better when you lacked a guard dog."

Cregan immediately turned back to the man with a look that said he was ready to murder him. As he stepped forward, Aegon stepped back as he began to regret his words.

"Take me to our chambers, Cregan," she lightly pleaded. 

The wolf of the north only stared for a while before nodding, "Lead the way."

She sighed as she gave a final look to her brother. "Clean yourself up. You look like shit."

…

Standing behind Rhaenyra, Y/n and Cregan whispered idly to Daemon when someone would comment something out of hand. 

Luke's legitimacy was coming into question, and though the Starks knew the truth, they would not dare pry the inheritance from the boy's hands. That was not their place. So next to Daemon they stood as petitions were made to and against him.

Daemon leaned in to speak to Y/n, "how far along did you say you were?"

"Eight moons now," she whispered back.

Daemon let out a surprised grunt. "You're to have the child here then? That seems unlike you."

"Uncle, my father insisted I come, and I have. Whether the child is born in the North or the South, it is a Targaryen and Stark all the same."

He smiled lightly, "I suppose you're right. If you wish for someone to accompany Lord Stark to the dragon pit to choose a proper egg for the child, only say the word."

Cregan, who had been listening quietly, now leaned in, "I am to choose an egg?"

"It is tradition," she explained. "It can be before, during, or after the birth, but the father chooses the egg. If… If you would wish to continue that tradition."

He grinned, "I'd be delighted to try."

When Vaemond Valaryon stepped up forward to speak his mind, the Starks quieted. 

He spoke in anger, trying to take Luke's right. 

Y/n looked past him to her mother and siblings. 

Aegon looked like he'd rather be doing anything else. He didn't care the outcome of this ordeal. Aemond watched intensely with his one eye, taking in every detail. And Helaena… sweet Helaena. 

She needed to visit her and the children soon.

"And her children are…" Vaemond paused.

The room stilled.

"Say it," Daemon whispered under his breath.

"Her children are BASTARDS!" He screamed.

Y/n jumped back in surprise as Cregan's steady hands caught her waist.

"And she. Is. a. Whore." Vaemond finished.

The air in the room stilled and became stuffy as the tension reached an all time high.

Viserys stood on unstable legs as he unsheathed his dagger, "I will have… your tongue for this."

A sudden slice moved through the air, and half of Vaemond's head was gone.

Blood splattered across the ones' nearest, meaning the Starks. Cregan let out an annoyed grunt.

"He can keep his tongue," Daemon said proudly as he lowered his sword.

Y/n rested a hand over her swollen stomach with a shaky hand, trying to ignore the blood that began to seep into her clothes. 

Cregan leaned down to whisper in her ear, "Are you alright?"

"I… I want to go," she shuddered back.

He nodded, looking around as the crowd began to whisper amongst themselves. He held a hand firmly against her back as she became to let out an uncomfortable whine.

"Cregan, please," she whispered.

"Alright. Alright, let's go, my love," he said as he tried to move her through the crowd.

But her legs faltered as she let out a pained noise.

He caught her in panic, "Are you in pain?"

"The babe…"

No longer caring for proper manners, Cregan stood tall and looked over the crowd. "MOVE!" He yelled out.

The people quieted and moved as Cregan helped his wife through the room and out of the doors.

Alicent only saw a brief glimpse of her daughter's silver hair go through the doors, and she was on edge. She ran through the crowd to follow behind them.

He held onto his wife's arm with one hand and held her waist with the other, trying to support her as they moved to their chambers.

Y/n let out a gasp, and her water broke.

Alicent caught up to them and grabbed her daughter's other arm. "It's alright. You're alright." She turned to a servant and ordered him to get the maester. 

Sweat began to break out of the poor woman's forehead as the weight of what is happening began to settle. 

Once on her bed, Cregan refused to move from her side, Alicent as well. Alicent rubbed soothingly across her daughter's forehead as Cregan paced at the foot of the bed.

The maester and midwives came quickly, immediately moving to the woman in labor.

"My lord, it is best if you remain outside," one of them said.

Cregan's brows furrowed in confusion. "Out… Outside?"

Alicent chipped in, "It is tradition. The husband waits outside of the doors."

He stared at Y/n in thought. Tradition. How that word weighed on them like boulders. 

"Alright."

…

He tried to ignore the sounds of her cries as he stood in the corridor. 

Nothing could ease his worries. 

In the North, it was not uncommon to be by their wife's side. 

This was unusual to him.

"My lord," a midwife questioned as she poked her head from the room.

His eyes widened, "Is she alright?"

"The child is… having trouble, my lord."

That was Cregan's greatest fear. The maester in Winterfell had spent endless hours with Cregan to determine a plan for if such a thing were to occur. Now he was without a plan entirely.

"Alright?" He finally breathed.

"What do you wish for us to do?"

"What options do I have?" He spoke barely above a whisper.

The midwife gave him an empathetic look. "We can cut the child out-"

"-No." He was quick with his answer, the very thought of taking a blade to her seeming the greatest sin he could commit.

"Um… it will be painful, but we can help her force the child out."

"Is that safe for her?"

The midwife shrugged lightly, "More than any other option I can give you."

He nodded.

She gave a weak smile and moved back into the room, but Cregan caught the door before it closed and forced his way in.

At the sight of his wife, he felt as if a blade went into his own stomach.

She was crying in pain, the midwives forcing her hips down as she tried to move away from the pain, as if that was possible.

At the sight of him, her entire face relaxed, "Cregan…"

He moved to her side, "I'm here. How can I help?"

Alicent glared slightly at him. 

"They won't… I can't…" Y/n whimpered out.

"They won't what?" He looked up to Alicent, "What are they doing?"

"She wishes to get up. We cannot have her standing," she explained.

Cregan was thrown off by that. "She cannot? W… Why ever not?" When in labor with him, Cregan's mother was said to have walked the length of Winterfell 3x over. 

"It hurts… please, Cregan…" 

He nodded as his expression hardened. "Let her stand."

The maester shook his head, "She is nearing the labor. She should not-"

"-She wishes to stand. She will stand."

Alicent spoke up. "Lord Stark-"

"-This is my wife and child. If she wishes to walk, then she will," he barked. 

A fire lit behind the queen's eyes. "She will not."

The midwives watched the tension grow.

Finally, Cregan calmly reached down and began to help his wife sit up.

Alicent cursed under her breath and grabbed Cregan's wrist in an effort to stop him.

Cregan's eyes slowly moved up to Alicent's face as anger began to overcome him. 

But she was first to speak. "You are no longer in the North. You abide by our traditions when you are here."

He'd heard enough of that word for a lifetime. 

His words came out sharper than he intended, but he cared little to soften them. "Your family is made of vipers and cutthroats. When I take my wife and child back to Winterfell, it will truly be a miracle if you ever see them again, for I will not let her sit and be neglected and tormented. I am a brute, but I am not without heart. Now, Let. Go."

Alicent reluctantly let go.

Cregan helped Y/n sit, and she immediately felt relief. "I want to walk," she panted.

He nodded, practically holding her up as she stood. "We will walk the corridor and return." His voice had no room for argument.

Once they paced the corridor a few times, she was returned to the bed, only to find that Alicent had left. Cregan only cared about it when he noticed the tinge of sadness that moved over his laboring wife.

But he was quick to fill the gap. As she moved back to the bed, Cregan sat behind her and held her against his chest, messaging anywhere that began to ache.

The labor came soon after that. Cregan held her close as she screamed in pain and gripped his wrists. She surely left bruises.

"The babe is crowning, princess," the midwife exclaimed. "Keep pushing."

The pain came in waves that made her see white. 

Cregan began to panic when the midwives gave one another a look. "What?"

"She is not pushing hard enough."

Y/n began to cry in frustration.

"She is pushing," Cregan sighed. "What else is there to do?"

One of them reached up and began to push on her stomach, prompting the princess to cry harder as the pain multiplied. 

"Allow me," Cregan shifted her in his hold and carefully placed his hands where the midwife had, slowly applying pressure to the same place.

As Y/n screamed and cried, Cregan placed assuring kisses against her neck and cheek and whispered calming words to her. "You're doing well."

If the pain had not been so bad, she may have blushed.

…

Cregan held the baby close to his chest as his wife slept.

"My lord," a servant finally entered and interrupted the silence. "The queen has requested to see the child."

An annoyed feeling washed over the man. Of course, she wished to. 

The servant took note of his changed demeanor, "I can take-"

"-No," he countered. "I will go myself. Should my wife awaken in my absence, give her anything she desires."

His heavy feet stormed from the room and he walked to the queen's chambers.

Alicent turned and shock overcame her. "Lord Stark. I did not expect you to-"

"-Neither did I."

The two stared at one another for a moment before Alicent's eyes wandered to the bundle in the large lord's arms. "Healthy?"

"The very picture."

She nodded, unsure of what to say next.

"A boy," Cregan stated.

"A boy?" Alicent whispered. Any thoughts of annoyance were past to her, and she walked to the lord and eagerly looked at the child.

The baby was indeed the picture of health. Bright purple eyes looked up at the two. Dark hair sat atop his head.

"He's quite northern," she stated.

"Indeed." Cregan was sure she meant it as an insult, but he could care less. The thought of such a gift as a northern boy filled him with pride. 

"Congratulations, Lord Stark."

He nodded. "Your daughter is fine as well."

Alicent moved away from Cregan and sat down. "That is a blessing. To all of us. She will be a perfect mother."

"Aye, she will."

The tension between the two was evident, but they wouldn't let it dull the excitement of the newest addition to the line.

"I should return to my wife."

"Please, do."

Cregan moved to the door.

"Lord Stark?" She asked.

"Yes?"

Alicent stared at him and then the babe. "Thank you. For caring for her. And now him. You are a better man than most."

Cregan sighed. It wasn't a compliment, but it was something. "Thank you, my queen. She will want for nothing until my dying breath."

"This is all I wished for her."

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Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar, @kidd3ath,@yujyujj, @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver

[lady-ashfade]

A Son For A Son

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Deamons Bastard!Reader x Yan!Team black. Pt.2

╰･ﾟ✧☽ first fic here.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ summary: the queen has given a order, and craving revenge you expect.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ words: 1k

╰･ﾟ✧☽ warnings: blood & gore, murder and death, reader killing, reader being her father, uncanon events, poison, I just needed to make this.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ DONT READ IF YOU WANNA BE SPOILED: reader does in fact kill aemond in this and idk if you are happy about it, I want his head to take to my queen.

“I want Aemond Targaryen.” she stood before the council covered in dirt and who knows what.

It had been two weeks since the letter about the death of Lucaerys had arrived and you all had been the worst for it. and ever since she searched and searched for a sign of truth, desperate to be wrong. that her sweet boy was alive. you knew he was dead and you wanted everyone to pay for taking luke. you wanted aemond targaryen to pay. you took anger out on the ones you could, or roamed the sky’s to get your mind off of things. you would not act without her orders.

The resemblance you shared to daemon was close and terrifying for your foes. just as you had the idea to fulfill her wishes, your father did too.

“I don’t know what you’re planning,” the sound of your voice made his shoulders fall and a smirk appear on his face, one you couldn’t see. a dark cloak draped over his shoulders and matched the same one across your frame. “but I have a better one.”

“No.” you glare at the back of his head. again denied something worth your talents.

“You can’t tell me what do to this time father.” standing your ground as his eyes turn around, a look he uses when he’s serious. and for him it was like looking into a mirror, you carved blood just like he did and loved getting to spill it. even for no reason at all.

“I have waited around for a task, and she has said she wants Aemond. I mourn the loss of my brother too, and you can not keep me from whatever it is that you think you’re protecting me from.”

Hundreds of men died at the end of your blade at night as you slip throughout the shadows. you were a slayer, a assassin who followed your own roles but loved coin and the game. a story to tell children to make them weep and fear the dark. so how could he still think you are not ready.

“I have let you do what you needed, patrol the blockade against my wishes. or fly alone when our enemies wait to make us weaker” he lectures, “and I will not let them take you.” for a moment you saw a regular father begging for his daughter to stay safe. you aren’t just a daughter now but a soldier in war.

“I would never let them take me,” you step closer and give him a smug look, “I am your daughter after all.”

Instead of going himself, daemon sends you, for the head of the copycat prince.

the castle gates are easy to slip passed with the help of a guard who shares your hatred for the hightowers. and many times, you slip into the keep without getting caught.

“Something told me you’d be here,” his eye glanced at you amused from the cough as his fingertips spin a coin. “It’s as if the gods made me stay here.” aemond unfolded his legs and leaned forward on his knees. many years you hated the way he spoke to you like a interest of his to be claimed like his bitch dragon.

“Then the gods agree you’ll die tonight.”

aemond waited for this moment to finally fight you. he wanted to win and keep you forever as a trophy, a wife who was like him and everyone feared without a doubt. he wasn’t a fool, you are a skilled killer and he needed to bring his all. and some skills stayed in the dark.

a slice in his chest, in his leg and cheek aren’t as bad as he thought when he had you pinned down onto the table. the cold feeling of metal as his hands wrapped around your throat was refreshing. you didn’t try and fight back as he took your breath because the fight was won as soon as it started.

And he should have known you couldn’t be this sloppy.

curling lips up into a devil’s smirk, looking into his eye he feels himself weakened and his grip loosen. the power of letting a man win and wiping all power from beneath their feet was riveting and a hobby. Aemond leaned back and placed his weight onto the couch while trying to keep composure. “You honestly think i wouldn’t have a plan? Make my own rules?” you raise a brow and rub the sore skin of your neck, inching closer while standing up yourself.

“Silent reaper is the name they whisper about me, come in quickly without notice. I always kill my enemies without them awake, but you,” you point and lean down as his eyes become bloodshot, “I want to feel the most pain. And I will enjoy it.” within a few minutes his body starts to leak its own blood. he was quickly taken to death of course, you couldn’t hear his pleads but you’ll satisfy with his death.

guards fall silent when they watch you walk through the halls they don’t even announce your name. white locks lace your fingers and the weight of his head was little and you look like your father with the proud eyes of what you did. the sounds of your footsteps cause the council to glance over but stay with shock. non of them expected to see that and much less out of no where. though, your father seemed pleased and chuckled at the sight.

“The head of Prince Aemond Targaryen, your Grace.” Walking past Jace you set the bloody head on the table as people gawk and flinch. “the poison was my idea, hope you don’t mind.” a second later you yawn of exhaustion and boredom. you look at rhaenrya as her eyes glossed with the revenge you took for her.

“If you’ll excuse me, the ride back was tiring and I wish to get back to my book.” bowing down you flash a “polite” smile and walk away to your chambers with pride and a hand rested on your blade. with everyone wondering what else you would do for the queen,

Your mother.

[clockwayswrites]

Orange, City Pigeon, Danny & Batfam @roanawayspoons WC: 864 CW: Blood, injury

“I’m just saying, you shouldn’t get to be Red by default.”

“Well I can’t be Robin and Hood is a unique identifier.”

“No, nope, just because you weren’t creative enough to come up with something other than Red Robin you shouldn’t get to just claim Red.”

“Creative enough? Oh that’s rich from the man who ripped off the Joker.”

“It was poetic!”

“It was lazy.”

“Look here, bird bones—” …and Tim was gone, Jason thought with a sigh. He turned back to see Tim still before the last jump, staring down into the alleyway with a tilted head. Jason’s hand went to one of his guns. “Red?”

“Blood.”

“And? It’s Gotham. I think the city is held together by blood at this point.”

“Green blood, Hood.”

“How do you know it’s blood then?” Jason asked, but stalked forward to look. Alright, maybe the splatter was pretty distinctive.

That particular shade of green was also concernedly distinctive.

“Well, fuck.”

“Yep.”

“Who bleeds Lazarus water?”

“No clue,” Tim said unhelpfully. “Guess we better find out.”

They dropped silently down into the alley, one after another, and followed the trail of toxic green blood. The trail went cold a few times, whoever was bleeding was clearly trying to hide, but they were inexperienced at it and the Bats had spent enough time stalking through the streets of this city that the cement and stone basically spoke to them. The trail couldn’t hide from them.

Without warning, Jason shot his arm out to stop Tim. He tapped the side of his helmet silently; he heard something. Tim nodded and they fanned out to search. A door in this latest alley they were in was cracked open, like someone had tried to close it and it had bounced back off the latch.

A green hand print was smeared down it.

Jason pulled a gun from his holster, but let Tim go through first. While Jason was far lighter on his feet than someone his size should be, there was no denying that Tim was stealthier. Jason would be just a few steps behind ready to provide the muscles and firepower.

It was odd, then, when Tim purposefully let his foot scrape against the ground as he rounded the corner. Jason just cursed silently as the idiot continued forward, cutting himself off from Jason’s line of sight. “Hey, looks like you could use some help with that wound before you bleed out.”

Jason couldn’t hear what was said back; he edged closer.

“You must not be from Gotham. I’m Red Robin, one of the heroes here.”

The person snorted. “Just… over… then?”

Tim laughed. It was one of his many fake laughs, but the one meant to soothe people in trouble. “Why would I do that? I’m a vigilante. Do you know how illegal what I do is? I just don’t want to see you bleed out. Maybe I can even take you to a safe house where you can rest.

“So… interrogate me?”

“I mean, I’d like to know who tried to kill a kid, but that’s to make them pay, not you.”

Jason’s hand gripped his gun so tightly it hurt.

The person… the kid laughed. It was a broken sound that no kid should have to make.

Jason had heard it a lot on the streets.

“Maybe I deserve it.” Their voice was raspy, like every word caught in their throat.

Jason came around the corner. The kid went rigid, which was the last thing they needed with how blood seeped from their fingers where their pale hand was clutched against a too big hoodie.

Tim leaned casually into Jason's space in a way he wouldn’t normally, putting on a show for the kid that Red Hood was safe. It was at least true for the kid. Jason leaned back, mostly for the comfort of having his brother close in the face of the sight. Seeing bloody kids never got easier.

“You’re what, sixteen?” Jason asked.

“…fifteen?”

“Yeah, no fifteen year old deserves to bleed out. You know who I am?”

They shook their head. It dislodged the hood a little. The tangled, chin length hair was startling white and splattered with dried green blood. Jason forced himself to take a breath.

“I’m Red Hood. I protect part of this city called Crime Alley. I’m not afraid to kill a shithead, especially ones that hurt kids, but I never harm a kid. I’ve got places to put you if you need somewhere safe; places not in the system. Or get you somewhere. Do you have a place to go to?”

The kid laughed again. Somehow it sounded worse this time. “That’s the thing. I do. I might, I guess. Just no one is going to believe me.”

“Why won’t they believe you? Where do you need to get?” Tim asked.

The kid looked up. Jason felt Tim tense against him. Hell, Jason tensed. They were the wrong color, but Jason knew those eyes, those brows, that slope of the nose. Everything was just a little sideways, but Jason knew that face. He knew what the kid was going to say.

“I need to get to Bruce Wayne.”

--- AN: Happy Trauma Tuesday~

Feel free to continue this, use it as a prompt if you'd like!

[witchybitchycrybaby]

Enemies in public, lovers in private

Davos Blackwood x Bracken!fem!reader

Warnings: smut, it's basically porn without plot, suggestive language, fighting

Words: 3k

Also this is my first ever attempt at writing 18+ content, I hope I did well

✨✨✨

It was a perfect day for another traditional clash between Blackwoods and Brackens. It wasn't too hot nor cold, it didn't rain at all and the sun wasn't shining in their faces, hidden behind clouds.

Maybe it was hiding because it no longer wanted to see the unresolved conflict between the two houses.

The air was thick with tension and hatred at the boundary line. Davos Blackwood, with a handful of his men, stood at the edge of their territory, the Red Fork River murmuring softly nearby. Opposite them, you and your brother Aeron approached, flanked by a few Bracken soldiers.

Your eyes locked with Davos' brown ones with a mix of frustration and longing. That was the only way you could communicate something more than insults without anyone paying attention to you. You blinked quickly, hiding every one of your feelings behind a cold, resentful mask.

"Blackwood," Aeron sneered, his voice, though a little bit unsure, was dripping with disdain he didn't even try to disguise. He then looked the dark haired boy up and down. "What brings you to our lands? Lost your way like a stray dog?"

Davis gritted his teeth at the insult. He took one step closer to where the bracken stood. “Just making sure you craven lot aren’t overstepping your boundaries, Bracken. Your family has a knack for moving boundary stones.”

"Funny thing, Blackwood," you barked back, his name a stinging venom on your tongue. "We were just discussing how often those stones seem to wander towards our side. Must be the wind, perhaps, or the dragons. Surely, you wouldn't have any share in that, would you?"

One of the Blackwood men, until now staying a pace behind Davos, took a step forward and looked at you with so much hate and anger you had to suppress a shiver. You stood still however; you would rather die than cower before them.

"Careful, you Bracken wench. Watch your tongue before we cut it out."

Before anyone could react, Aeron's face twisted with fury, and he drew his sword. His grip was however a bit uncertain. You really appreciated this, his want to always protect you. He was the more delicate one among the two of you, not suited for battle. And yet, he was very stubborn to prove himself.

You saw the way Davos' jaw tightened as his fingers gripped the hilt of his sword. Davos Blackwood instantly unsheathed his weapon, eyes trained on the blond boy. "Looks like little Bracken is shaking in his boots. Did your sister drag you out here to play knight?"

"I've got more honor in my little finger than you have in your entire body, Blackwood."

Davos stepped closer, his eyes darkening. "Honor? You wouldn't know honor even if it bit you."

With a war cry on his lips Aeron lunged at the Blackwood boy. The metallic sound of the sword struck the otherwise quiet air like a thunder. The clang of steel against steel echoed through the trees as they clashed with a fury borne of centuries-old hatred. Their hits were brutal and fast; their movements swift and well-practiced. You watched, your heart aching with every strike, knowing you had to play your part.

The fight was intense but brief. Both men landed a few cuts, blood staining their clothes but nothing fatal. As Davos prepared for another strike, you decided you were fed up with this fight and stormed between them, your eyes blazing with anger. You put a hold on both of their arms, stopping them from doing something they would later regret.

"Stop this, both of you, or I’ll take my sword and kill you myself,” you said with ice in your voice. Your gaze wandered from one boy to the other.

They both well knew you could and would do it; you weren't the one to make empty promises. They could play their little war all they wanted, but not on your watch. You'd faster claim a dragon than let them kill themselves over some stupid boundary stones.

Your grip on their arms remained strong until both of them lowered their swords. You could feel Davos' muscles twitching beneath your touch. He huffed with anger and wrenched himself from your grasp.

For a brief moment, Davos' eyes softened as he looked at you, but he quickly masked it with a scowl. "Listen to your little cunt of a sister, Bracken. Fuck off to your side of the river.”

As he walked away to his men, you tugged at your brother and pulled him to yours. He would bitch about it later, you knew it. But oh well, you'd take it.

Aeron glared at you enraged and also pulled his arm away from you. "What are you doing, (y/n)? They deserve to be taught a lesson."

"And you'll be the one to learn it if you don't back down," you retorted, your hand closing to the hilt of your own sword. "This pathetic Blackwood isn't worth the blood on your blade."

His jaw tightened but he had enough sense in his head not to speak.

You heard Davos sheathing his sword so you turned to him. There was a small cut on his cheek and your heartbeat quickened. He wiped the blood with the back of his hand and stared right into your eyes. You lifted your chin just a little and crossed your arms.

"Tell your men to stop moving the boundary stones, and we won't have to keep coming here to correct your mistakes."

"Perhaps if your men had the integrity to keep to their own lands, we wouldn't have this problem."

A scoff came from one of the Bracken men. "You're saying you have integrity, Blackwood?"

Davos smirked, you practically could see the glint of craze in his eyes.

"It's not us who's always trying to take more than what’s ours.”

The Blackwood and Bracken men exchanged hostile glances, muttering curses under their breath. You balled your hands into fists, your knuckles white.

"Enough!" yelled Aeron. "We'll leave your precious stones alone if you do the same."

There was a moment of silence on the hill. You knew how much Davos loved those little battles between your houses and that no matter what he might now say will stop them.

Finally, Davos gave a mocking bow, his dark eyes flashed with something very opposite to the want of truce. "Fine. But don't think this is over, Blackwood."

Aeron nodded curtly. "Wouldn't dream of it."

With that, Davos Blackwood shot you a final glance and ordered his friends to retreat. There was promise in his eyes that only you could understand. You watched them go, your heart thudding in your chest. You played this meeting well, your love-hate relationship still sealed and hidden.

"Next time, dear sister," Aeron hissed. "I won't back down so easily."

You sighed when he moved away. Maybe you won't stop him next time. Maybe you should just let them kill themselves and they'd be rid of this callow feud.

As the Brackens turned back to their lands, your thoughts lingered on Davos. Your love was a dangerous game, one that could cost you everything. But for now, you had survived another day, your secret safe for a little longer.

~•~

The Mill stood at the edge of Blackwood and Bracken lands, silent and dark, shrouded in shadows. It wasn't precisely a mill anymore, truth be told. Nobody used it, so it stood empty and alone.

And it was just perfect for Davos and you. The Mill became your sanctuary, its walls one of a very few confidants of your love and late-night trysts.

Davos waited inside, not daring to light any candles for fear of drawing unwanted attention. His breath was steady, but his heart racing. He knew you'd come. You always did.

He fixed his eyes on the wooden door when he heard the soft and cautious footsteps. Your footsteps. You quietly slipped inside, the door creaking when you closed it behind yourself. You barely had time to turn around and properly look at him before he surged forward, and in seconds was on you, pushing you against the rough wall. You yelped in surprise, but it was quickly swallowed by Davos' hungry mouth when his lips crashed against yours in a hard, desperate kiss.

You instantly melted into him with a fervent response. Your hands threaded through his silken, dark locks, pulling him even closer. His hands roamed over your clothed body, caressing the curves of your waist and hips, which he knew so well.

Finally, you broke the kiss, panting heavily, both completely out of breath. There was a string of saliva connecting your lips. You leaned back, resting your head against the wall.

"Cunt?" You asked rising an eyebrow. "I thought you'd have some more sophisticated terms up your sleeve, Blackwood."

He laughed, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "My apologies. Had to keep up the appearances." he murmured, his voice anything but apologetic. He pressed a kiss to the column of your neck, and you shivered. "Would you prefer 'Bracken witch' instead?"

Your eyes narrowed in mock-serious resentment, but your body betrayed you, arching towards him. "Bastard." You whispered with a smirk on your lips. Just like that, he was forgiven.

He'd kneel if you'd asked. He would beg, and he wouldn't find any trace of shame it that. Seven Hells, he'd crawl if that was what you wanted. He'd do everything without a second to lose, because you were his Brecken. His and nobody elses.

"And you love me anyway." He gave you one more peck on the lips and grasped your hand in his. He pulled you further into the Mill, towards the makeshift bed of hay and blankets. As you moved, he kissed you again, his lips trailing down your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

"I've missed you," he whispered, his hands moving to the laces of your shirt. You could feel his impatient fingers grazing over your sternum and stomach. You sighed with contentment when the material slid from your shoulders and fell to the ground.

"I hate how much I've missed you too," you admitted, your hands clasping his shirt and pulling it over his head.

Davos attacked your lips with a new wave of desire, he kissed you like a man starved, and you were the sweetest of fruits. His hands slid down your waist to the lacing of your breeches and slipped them off. He picked you up, and you crossed your ankles behind his back. His body was so hot; in every place you touched, you felt fire.

He laid you gently on the blanket and quickly discarded his own breeches somewhere in the corner. He then climbed on top of you, careful not to put his whole body weight on you. You opened your legs to accommodate him and you gasped when his half-hard cock brushed against your inner thigh.

"I was a bit disappointed seeing you fight today, Blackwood. I've seen better fighting from children. Do you train with toddlers in Raventree Hall?"

"You vixen," Davos rasped and bit your lip and didn't let go until he tasted warm metallic liquid on his tongue. "My fighting is better than whatever pathetic excuse for training do Brackens do. I bet even a blindfolded squire could best you or your brother."

His lips wandered down your body, leaving open mouthed kisses in their wake. Down the column of your neck, to your collarbone, and to your breasts. He eagerly took one nipple in his mouth, teasing it into hard peak. He then continued his ministrations on the other one, all while you were a squirming and whining mess under him.

You threw your head back and dug your nails deep into his shoulders when Davos put his hand between your heated bodies. He was sure that the marks you'd leave would stay on his back for quite a while. His finger travelled between your folds and stopped right at your entrance. You pushed your hips to seek any type of friction but he just released your nipple with a soft pop and shook his head, a crazed smirk on his face.

"You know, Bracken," he whispered slowly, leaning above you, his face mere inches from yours. "I used 'cunt' on purpose. Because yours is just divine.

And with that he thrusted one of his digits inside you. You moaned, and all he wanted to do was freeze the time and capture the sound in a bottle. His perfect Bracken, all pretty and pliant for him. He could do whatever he wanted to you, and you'd let him. His ethereal lover.

You buckled your hips once more when he pulled and pushed two fingers. In and out, in and out. He could see the unshed tears on your lashes when his thumb started to tease your clit.

"Fuck-.Davos..." You whimpered. "You lousy teaser."

He captured your lips in his again, a low groan escaped from him when your soft, warm walls started to tighten around his fingers.

"You are so eager, my dear Bracken, so unsated. You will come on my fingers and then I'll fuck you stupid, I promise."

And it didn't take long. He kissed you until both of you were breathless, and whispered sweet nothings into your ear; whispered how good you were for him, how good you were taking him, heaven-sent just for him to have and take care of. He pushed his fingers and continued his assault oh your clit until your legs started shaking. Your back arched into him, and with his name on your lips, you climaxed. And even after that, he didn't stop because that's what he was there for. To make you happy, to worship you, your body and the ground you walked on.

You panted when he removed his fingers and brought them to his lips. You watched as his tongue darted around them, licking up your juices.

"You will be the death of me, Blackwood," you moaned and kissed him hard. You could taste yourself on his tongue, and it made your head spin. You locked your ankles behind his back to keep him in place. As if Davos would rather be anywhere else than right here.

"Will you give me another one?" He asked and positioned his cock right at your entrance. You shivered some more when you felt his already leaking tip tease and push at you. "Will you," he pushed more until he was inside your warmth. "be a good girl to me?"

You writhed beneath him and it made him swell with pride. He made that. He was responsible for this state you were in. His sweet, sweet girl.

"If you don't put it in right now, I'll do it," you blurted.

"As the lady commands." He grinned at you and bottomed out in one smooth thrust.

He groaned at the feeling and hid his face in the crook of your neck. He needed a moment to compose himself and not come right away. You were so warm and tight, he truly didn't mind dying like that, inside of you.

You gasped for air and looped your arms around his neck. One of your hands tangled into his hair, your nails scratching his scalp. Did you know how much he loved you? Did you know that he would kill for you? Gods, he would start a war in your name, all you had to do was ask.

Davos tightened his jaw and rolled his hips just a little. Both of you moaned in unison. You didn't believe in heaven or hell, but you sure knew that heaven was right here, with him between your legs and inside you.

"You chicken out, Blackwood? Are you just gonna lie there and look pretty, or will you move already?"

"I should've put this mouth of yours to a better use," he muttered but did as he was told. He pulled out almost completely and then thrust back in. Hard. You yelped and cried out in pleasure.

He did it again. And again. And again. It was a torturous tempo, and everything in him screamed to be faster and claim you already. But you were a brat today, a spoiled brat, and he wanted to punish you for it. Yet, your sweet mewling and moaning made him grit his teeth and go faster.

He placed his hands in the bend of your legs and brought them to your chest to give himself even better access to your pulsating core. You were so beautiful like this, so hauntingly beautiful he could cry. His Bracken, his, his, his and he accentuated it with each deep thrust he made.

You moved together, your tempo more erratic with each push. The world outside the walls of the Mill stopped existing; there were no more lands, no more Blackwoods and no more Brackens. There were just you and your desire.

Davos knew he wouldn't last much longer, and neither would you. He left open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, your neck and collarbones until he felt the climax building up within himself. He could feel it in you too by how your walls were tightening around him. You had this serene, fucked-out expression on your face, your eyes glassy. And it tipped him over the edge.

You came together. His milky spent filled your insides, some starting to leak out as soon as he pulled out and turned around to lie on his back beside you. Your bodies were covered in a thin layer of sweat, the smell of sex filling the air.

You panted heavily for a while, and then Davos pulled you on top of him, your hair pooling around you two. You placed your head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.

You then pulled yourself up and leaned on your elbows. Your smile was sated when you looked into his eyes, but it faltered when your gaze fell on the cut on his cheek. You gently traced it with your fingers.

"Does it hurt?" You asked softly.

But he just turned his head and kissed your wrist. "It's not bad. Blackwoods are tougher than Brackens, I assure you."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Stubborn as mules, more like."

"Maybe," he replied and caressed your cheek. "But we know what we want."

"And what do you want, Davos Blackwood?" You whispered leaning into his touch.

"You, (y/n) Bracken. Always you."

[animeshotsh]

The day i got a new uncle!! | Vox x Kid!Reader

Vox claiming that yes, kid!reader its totally his.

Warnings: HH violence-cursing- Kid!Reader bites Valentino - Everybody freaks out - Lucifer snaps - Charlie snaps - Alastor its all for the drama - Vox has a crush on Alastor - Protective!Alastor - Protective!Angel Dust - grammar mistakes

Note: its edited, now Kid!reader does bite Valentino

The hotel was for once quiet. Like, extremely quiet. Too quiet.

"as much as i hate seeing your face, is (Y/N) with you? They have their piano lesson today" Lucifer said towards Alastor who in return smiled to hide is now nervous self.

"I tought they were with you?" The demon said turning his head to the side then sending all his shadows to look for you.

Lucifer gave him his own nervous look and went to ask the others, his wings carring him in the halls.

"Charlie? CHARLIE? PLEASE TELL ME (Y/N) ITS THERE WITH YOU" Lucifer called from outside her daugther's room only for it to open with a very nervous Charlie.

"Dad, what do you mean? (Y/N) was supposed to be out with Angel Dust for today"

"And they havent returned...?" The king asked in a worried tone.

Before Charlie could respond Alastor appear in his hand was a beaten up lamb from Lucifer.

"My shadows found your spider friend on the side of the street, and they took this back with them" Alastor trow the lamb to Lucifer who looked at it asking where you were.

"They took them, the sinner tried to fight them off but could not..."

"its Angel hurt? And (Y/N)?" Charlie asked now getting desesperated.

"I knew he was weak" Alastor said in a low voice getting a pissed look from Charlie.

"Alastor, does your shadows know where the sinner is?" Alastor nodded in return "and you, can you tell me what they looked like?"

"A big insect and a tv" the lamb said. In reaponse Alastor voice turned into static taking the lamb by its collar.

"And you did something to prevent this?" Radio deals now in his eyes "you are a creation from the king of hell but left them take (Y/N)?"

"Alastor stop!" Charlie pleaded getting the lamb back.

"They did this to get back to me" Alastor said turning to leave "i must put them in their place"

"Wait a dam minute, it may be your fault"

"Dad..."

"But im (Y/N) father and i should have prevented this. So im going to settle these sinner down myself"

"Not if i get to them first" Alastor responded baci giving out a siniter smile.

"Im coming too, we need to check on Angel"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~

A few hours earlier

Angel, the lamb and you were outside doing some quick errands. You rarely got to go outside so this was an experience. Being with Angel (who you loved like a big brother) was a plus, specially when he could toss you up and get you with his four arms.

"Are you having fun?" Angel asked after stopping to get some ice cream

"Yes!! This is amazing, you are amazing, sugar its amazing" Angel could only laught at you, he was sure you were going to be running up and down the hotel later.

"Well, what do we have here? I thought you would be hiding with that princess now"

Angel froze slowly turning around, his face getting hit with red smoke, besides him a tv radio demon kept looking past him towards you.

"My, thats must be Alastor's kid"

(In some part of hell, Lucifer felt a change in the force).

"And just happened to fall right into our arms, be a good employee and give them to us Angel"

"Over my dead body"

"If thats what you want"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

The others found Angel all bloody but not dead with a note besides him. He was tied up and had cuts all over him.

"Im sorry, i tried to stop them. (Y/N) tried to help me but got elecoshocked" Angel lamented his hands covering his eyes.

"Angel its not your fault, im sure you did the best you could to protect (Y/N)".

Angel smiled at Charlie's words, images of you biting his Boss arms and legs going to his mind. "(Y/N) has fire on them, they were biting Valentino's so much to even draw blood" Angel comments with a fond smile getting a creepy smile from Alastor who is just proud of you.

"If you want your kid back Alastor, meet me in the V's tower" Alastor read out loud getting everybodys attention.

"Thats a trap and wait a fucking minute" Lucifer took the note, he conjured some reading glasses (that he does not need) to read the bullshit he just hear.

"IM GOING TO KILL THESE SINNERS" A very demonic Lucifer said, flamed came from his mouth at the same time Charlie tried to calm him down.

"Dont worry dad, im sure (Y/N) and manage, we need to go to the V's first"

"WHY CAN NO ONE UNDERSTAND (Y/N) ITS MY KID!!"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

Turns out you did manage.

At first you opened your eyes seeing lots of lights from tvs, different sinners where showing on them. A small claw came out from your hand cutting your robes. As you were going to go outside a door opened and a demon with a ....tv as a head? Enter the room.

"Well, arent you sneaky" the tv said getting you up and inspecting you. The missmatched eye trying to get you under his influence but you just gave him a confused look.

"Did a tv fall over you to end like this?" You asked getting back an angry scowl from the demon.

"Oh im sure your father taught you that one, im right?" Vox asked moving himself to his chair getting acomodate with you on him.

"My dad does not like tvs, says its makes our brain go off"

"Yeah that sounds like him" Vox said thinking about Alastor, getting the most dreamy look on his face.

"You....you like my father?" You asked imagining Lucifer seeing this demon. If it was a demon that resembled a duck then it may have a chance but not this one.

"W-what?" Vox asked his face giving out an error signal "of coruse not, i dispise him, why do you think i kindapped you?

"....to have a chance to see him? But i believe this approach its a bit agressive"

"....kid, you have no sense of self preservation"

"...well you have no idea how love works!!"

"IM NOT IN LOVE WITH YOUR DAD!!"

"YOU KEEP SHOWING ERROR WHEN MENTIONING HIM"

Silence fell over both of you. Vox really needed to re think his life choices. You kept staring at him and it made him uncomfortable.

"But I support you, my Sis says love its love no matter your gender or lack of it"

"....thanks?" Does Alastor have another kid? Vox wondered then saw as you turned to face his monitors "are you stalking the streets?"

"What? No. Im just...collecting information" Vox simple said ignoring the sudden feeling of guilt.

"You have lots of monitos, and no one has a kid's show" you noted.

"There are not kid's show in hell"

"Of course, thats why this is hell. I got so angry when Barney was not here. It was said it was from the devil but Barney its not here"

Vox looked a bit confused at you then went to look for old record till he found a show, he sent the record to one monitor.

"BARNEY!!, thank you demon tv"

"Its Vox..."

"Thank you Vox!! Im sure my dad will love this, do you have ice cream?"

"...what flavor" Vox asked giving out to your big eyes.

~☆~☆~☆~☆

Turns out Vox and You bonded well over ice cream and Barney. You kept giving him hints on how to get with your dad and Vox took notes on his screen.

He later almost breaks when you started to run avoiding objects and staff that went in and out.

"You cant help if you are dead!!" Vox screamed getting a laught from you.

"VOX WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?"

Veelvet appeared in front of both of you, like a mother stopping the fun two siblings where having.

"Mmm, i dont follow?" Vox said taking you back to his arms.

"WHY ITS LUCIFER OUTSIDE OUR DOOR DEMANDING WE GIVE BACK HIS KID!!"

"Wait...this is not Lucifer's kid this is Alastor's...."

But he could not end talking when the doors busted open, a very pissed Lucifer, a demonic Alastor, an equal demonic Charlie and Angel with guns ready enter the room.

"YOU BETTER GIVE ME BACK MY KID YOU LOWLIFE SINNER" the disoriented voice from Lucifer caused Vox to tremble in fear.

"Wait!! This must be a missunderstanding, this is Alastor's kid"

Lucifer sent Vox flying to one of his monitors.

"(Y/N) ITS MY KID YOU STUPID TV FREAK"

For once Alastor liked what the king said, however he was quicker to catch up on what must likely happened.

"And i tought you watched every move i made old pald" Alastor said returning to his usual form to take you towards Charlie who hugged you and kissed your head.

"I- i have other things to do than look at-for- THAN YOU" Vox said error flashing.

"DAD HE LIKES YOU!!"

"What?"

"What?"

"Oh hell no"

"(Y/N) are you hurt anywhere? Did this sinner do something to you?" Lucifer asked with worry.

"No! We saw Barney together and ate ice cream, we were playing tag before you all crushed the door"

All of them turned to Vox who gave a small grind "Hey, im not that low to hurt a kid"

"I dont believe you sinner, you were given free will and ended here" Lucifer responded making Vox shiver.

"Dad!! Wait, he has Barney and can show ducks on his monitor"

"...ok and?"

"And you like ducks right?" You said louder looking at Vox to see if he got the hint, however Vox just blushed now realising that all this time you were talking about Lucifer and not Alastor.

Fuck my life.

"Alright, since you did not hurt (Y/N)...besides that shock you gave them earlier" Lucifer snapped his fingers getting the Power of the V's off. "I believe two weeks without your program, social media out of service and you wont be able to record....adult things its enough for a greedy soul as you and the other two"

"But Sir-"

"AND IF YOU EVER TRY TO DO THIS AGAIN IM TAKING YOU DOWN TO DO HORRIBLE THINGS TO YOU THAT I CANT SAY NOW BECAUSE MY KID IS HERE"

Vox nodded, getting a nod back from Lucifer who left with you on his arms.

"BYE NEW UNCLE!! TRY DUCKS"

Uncle? Nono, Alastor was your only uncle. He turned to Vox and broke off all his monitors.

"Dont even think on getting used to be called that, only I get called uncle from them"

After all of them left Vox fell down onto the floor.

Why does the king of hell look lowkey hot and why does a real treat from Alastor get him all funny inside?

[midnight-on-pluto]

Hi. So this is my request.

Tenya Iida x reader where the readers parents kick them out because they want to be a hero and are in UA. Then they just show up at Tenyas door in the pouring rain to ask if they could sleep at his house for a night. And Tenya is just so 😠mad. Protective Tenya activated.

so sorry that this took me ages to get out! I had no motivation for months and am finally attending my drafts and rebranding lol! so here's the first of many to come ♡♡

warnings:  emotional abuse, reader is kicked out by their parents, self-deprecating and unhappy thoughts

SFW, fluff, angst but not really, mostly comfort.

I should have been a doctor, I thought. My clothes clung to my body, skin prickled with goosebumps as I collapsed onto the ground. The unsigned, now drenched, permission form was bunched in my fist, my nails digging into my skin. 

“Why would we sign this?” My mother’s voice was ringing through my mind as I recalled tonight’s events. “Just so you to go kill yourself for some dream?” 

“Stupid,” I scolded myself. The cold rain only picked up as I began to cry, choked sobs being drowned out by the pouring rain. 

“If you don’t want to give up on this silly dream then leave!” My father slammed his fist down on the table as he spoke. “I don’t want some mediocre hero claiming to be my child. Go play hero somewhere else.”

I took a deep breath, eyes shutting tightly to blink away my tears. “This is pathetic,” I said to nobody. My hands rubbed the tears off my face, replacing it with mud from the ground. 

I stood, legs tired. I didn’t even think to look at where I was going, just running as fast and far as I could. I looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings, the only light coming from the streetlights. I patted around, luckily smacking something hard and rectangular shaped, my phone. 

I pulled it out, 3% battery remaining. Quickly I pulled up my GPS, trying to see where I was and what the closest place to go was. I’d run close to UA, luckily. Perhaps I could see if anyone was still there, although unlikely. 

I tried looking around more, finding a familiar street name. Tenya’s street, I thought. Something inside me sank, dreading just showing up at his doorstep, soaking wet with tears and mud staining my cheeks. But it was the only place to go, and I trusted him more than anyone else in my class. 

The walk wasn’t very long, but it felt like forever. The rain only worsened, I would definitely be getting sick. By the time I got to Iida’s street, my phone died. I continued, walking up the street and stopping at the mailbox reading IIDA. A light was on inside, I could see in the dining room. Tenya sat there with his family, eating dinner. They were smiling, even laughing as his older brother said something, a huge grin on his face. 

I took a deep breath before walking up to their door. I stood for a moment, enjoying the roof over my head before shutting my eyes and raising my fist. 

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK

I took a step away from their door. Eyes willing themselves to open and hands behind my back, gripping my wrists tightly in anticipation. 

A few footsteps came from the otherside before their dark blue door swung open. A woman, blue eyes and black hair, answered with a smile. I opened my mouth for a moment but said nothing. As she studied me, I could see her smile fade lightly and her face contorted into confusion. 

Tenya came up behind her, his brother following behind. His blue widened after seeing me, hand going to the woman’s shoulder and leading her out of the way. 

“Tenya,” was all I could manage for now. “Hi.” 

The girl and Tenya’s brother shared confused looks, then left us alone. Tenya stepped out onto the porch, hand immediately flying to my forehead. 

“You’re cold,” he said. “What’re you doing out in this weather?”

“Can I stay here?” I asked him softly, “just for the night.” 

His head tilted, eyes focusing on me. “Sure,” his hand slipped into mine before he used the other to open his door again. He pulled me in, shutting the door behind us. 

“Stay here,” he told me, gesturing to the welcome mat I stood on. I looked at my feet, wet socks leaving dark wet marks on the fabric. Shit, I thought. Forgot shoes.

The woman peaked from the dining room archway. Tenya’s brother tugging on her shirt, “leave them be, mom.” He whispered. I didn’t look over at them, too embarrassed to look. Instead, I studied the inside of his home. The beautiful stairs leading to the second storey, their living room to the left of me, their dining room on my right. Bookshelves lined their walls, golden trimmed books glittering in the light of their entrance chandelier. 

It wasn’t long before Tenya came back, a grey bath towel with him. He put it around my shoulders, telling me to dry off before he disappeared into the dining room. I pulled the warm towel to myself, covering my face with it in embarrassment. My legs started shaking as my thoughts wandered, tears threatening again. 

I could hear light whispering from where Tenya had gone, a woman’s voice questioning, then Tenya’s voice answering. I inhaled sharply, willing my arms to move so I could dry off before he came back. 

Tenya’s footsteps approached, I kept my gaze limited to the floor, my hair blocking the view of anything else, rain lightly dripping down to the mat. I felt my cheeks burning. 

“Come upstairs,” his voice was calm, understanding. “You need to get out of those clothes, take a bath.” 

I only nodded and let his hand grip mine, letting him guide me upstairs, turning a few corners and into his bathroom. 

“I’m going to start a bath, okay?” He waited for my nod before turning on the water.”Feel this, tell me if it’s too hot.”

I stepped towards the bathtub and reached my hand into the water, “it’s good.” 

He sat on the edge of the bathtub while it filled up, hand still in the stream of water to regulate the temperature. 

“Do you wanna tell me why you’re here?” He asked. His voice was soft, not an ounce of annoyance or grievance coming out. 

“I was kicked out,” I spoke. “No more home for me, I guess.” The light chuckle that left my lips turned to a sob and I quickly breathed deep to stop the impending breakdown from happening. 

“What?” His voice now sounded slightly angry, but still filled with kindness. “Why would your parents do this?”

I didn’t say anything, still trying to hold back my tears. I only shrugged my shoulders pathetically as an answer, and he turned the tap off and stood up. 

“Take a quick bath, you can use anything you’d like in here. I’ll wait outside so just knock once you’re done and I’ll bring you some clean clothes, okay?”

I nodded again, then he left. I let the tears fall from my eyes the moment the door shut. The towel fell from my shoulders and I sniffled back as I peeled the clothes off my body. Stepping into the steaming water, skin tingling as it enveloped me, I finally let myself cry. The water smelt of my favourite scent, something I assumed Tenya added while filling the tub. 

I dipped down, fully submerging myself into the water and coming back up for air. I curled into a ball, arms reaching for the bottles of soaps and creams on the tub corners. I started reading what they were through blurry eyes. 

Birch scented shampoo and conditioner, moisturizing body wash, shea butter body scrub. I used the scrub, rubbing it up my arms and silently crying. 

I took a long bath, testing out every product on his bathtub. I heard his brother come to say goodnight to him, asking if I was okay and then leaving once Tenya told him I would be. His mother came to say goodnight with his father, asking what was wrong and asking if I would be here for breakfast tomorrow morning. 

After a while, the water had turned cold and the bathroom smelt like a mix of Tenya. I reached into the tub, pulling its plug and reaching for the towel. I dried my feet off first, stepping onto the tiled floor and then rubbing the rest of my body until it was slightly dry, no longer dripping everywhere. 

I walked up to the door, giving it three light taps. 

“Can I come in for a moment?” Tenya’s voice came. 

“Sure.”

The door handle turned and Tenya walked in, handing me a small pile of warm clothes and then leaving, closing the door shut behind him. 

I dressed myself, then stepped into his hallway. He’d given me dark blue sweatpants and a matching hoodie, both too big for me. I had to pull the drawstring of his sweatpants tightly and tie them into a bow. 

Tenya was waiting in the hallway, leaning against the wall dressed in his pajamas. When I stepped out he quickly turned to me, eyes landing on mine as I finally looked up at him. 

“Did you eat dinner?” He asked quietly. I shook my head, no. “Follow me.” He led me down the hall and into his bedroom, which had the bedside lamp on. A mug of hot tea and bowl of soup were placed alongside the lamp, and glass of water with them. He had set up a mattress on the floor of his room, blankets and sheets fitted on it. 

I started to walk towards it, but was caught by Tenya. “No, you take the bed tonight. Have some soup too, please.”

I turned to him. “Tenya, I can’t take your bed. I’ll be fine on the floor.”

“Please,” he begged. I gave in, walking to the bed and gesturing to him that he sit beside me. I sat cross legged as he handed me the bowl of soup. 

“They don’t like me being a hero,” I managed in between spoonfuls of soup. “Not good enough for them.”

He looked at me. “You don’t need to explain if you don’t wish to,” he said.

“It’s okay, that’s really all they said.” I lied. My mother’s shrill scream of, “don’t bother coming back until you can say you’re done disappointing this family,” ringing in the back of my mind. 

I wished I could fool him, but the look in his eye was showing his true disbelief in my lie. His face was left with a frown, teeth chewing on the inside of his lip while he thought. 

“How could you not be good enough for them?” He asked quietly, but not low enough that I missed it. “You’re an excellent student, an even better hero. You save lives, and it’s not good enough for them?” His voice was starting to rise slightly, anger lacing his tone. 

“Iida please,” I tried to get him to lower his voice. “It’s really not a big deal, they just don’t like heroes, that’s all.” 

“A parent is supposed to be a hero, someone who uplifts their kid’s dreams and supports them.” He was at a normal voice level now, his navy eyes locking with mine. “How could they kick you out over your dreams?”

“My parents aren’t like yours,” I whispered to him, “they don’t understand, just please keep it down.” My hand found its place on his before I knew what was happening and he froze slightly, eyes flickering down to his hand before looking back up at me. 

“You’re amazing,” he whispered. “Just know that. I would’ve died a million times if you hadn’t helped me.” 

I smiled at him, “thank you.” 

“Now please finish your soup, it’s late and if you don’t warm up you’ll catch a cold.”

"Okay."

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[silent-stories]

Brother's best friend! Noah

Pairing: Noah sebastian x reader

Summary: A man approaches you during a party and Noah can't even say he is your boyfriend.

Tw: drunk weird dude, fluff, angst.

The party was in full swing, the room buzzing with laughter, music, and the clinking of glasses. The dim lights and thumping bass created a haze that made it easy to lose yourself in the crowd.

You had been keeping an eye on Noah from across the room. He was chatting with Jolly and your brother Nicholas, his smile coming and going as he listened to whatever story they were telling. Spending too much time alone with him at the party would be suspicious, you had decided before going.

You were near the bar, sipping your drink, when a guy who was clearly a little too drunk stumbled up to you. His walk was wobbly, his grin sloppy and overconfident.

“Hey there,” he slurred, leaning in too close, invading your personal space with a breath that reeked of alcohol. “Haven’t seen you around here before. You got a name, or can I just call you beautiful?”

You tried to laugh it off, taking a step back to create some distance, but he followed, closing the gap again, his expression turning from playful to something more insistent. You glanced around the room, hoping to catch someone’s eye, but everyone seemed lost in their own conversations.

“Come on, don’t be shy,” he persisted, his tone dropping to something more suggestive. “Let me buy you a drink or…something.”

Before you could muster a response, you saw Noah weaving through the crowd, his face set in a tense, protective scowl. Nicholas was right behind him, his brows furrowed as he noticed the guy cornering you. The sight of both of them approaching filled you with a mix of relief and worry. You knew Noah’s temper could flare up in situations like this, especially when it came to you.

Noah reached you first, stepping between you and the guy, his voice was steady but brimming with anger. “Enough,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.The drunk guy squinted at Noah, clearly annoyed by the interruption.

“What’s your problem, man? Who are you, her boyfriend or something?” Noah opened his mouth to respond, the word "yes" almost slipping out, but he hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at Nicholas.

Nicholas stood there, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation. His presence reminded Noah of the delicate balance they were trying to maintain, the secret they were trying to keep.Noah’s jaw tightened, and he looked back at the guy, then at you, his eyes softening with frustration and regret. He wanted so badly to say he was your boyfriend, to claim you as his in front of everyone, but he couldn’t. Not with Nicholas right there, watching every move.

“No,” Noah finally said, his voice low and edged with pain. “I’m not her boyfriend.”

The guy smirked, seeming to take Noah’s words as a victory. “That’s what I thought,” he muttered, turning back to you. But before he could say anything else, Nicholas stepped forward, his face a mask of calm but with a sharp edge to his voice.

“Look, she’s not interested,” Nicholas said firmly, placing a protective hand on your shoulder. “I suggest you walk away before you embarrass yourself any more than you already have.”

The drunk guy blinked, clearly not expecting a second confrontation. He muttered something under his breath and staggered away, leaving you with both Noah and Nicholas. You could feel the tension radiating off Noah, his frustration palpable. Noah clenched his fists at his sides, his face a mix of anger and disappointment.

“I need some air,” he muttered, turning abruptly and heading toward the door, his movements stiff with contained emotion. You hesitated for a moment, then quickly excused yourself, following him outside.

The cool night air hit you as you stepped out, and you saw Noah a few paces away, leaning against the wall in the dark hallway next to the club, his head down, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

“Noah,” you called softly, approaching him. He didn’t look up, but you could see the tension in his posture, the way his shoulders were hunched as if he was carrying a heavy weight. You reached out, gently touching his arm. “Noah, talk to me,” you urged. He finally looked up, his eyes filled with frustration and a deep sadness.

“I just… I hate this,” he admitted, his voice rough. “I hate that I can’t even say I’m your boyfriend, that I have to hide how I feel because of—”He trailed off, his gaze flicking back to the doorway where Nicholas had been. The weight of their friendship, and the secret he was keeping, hung heavy in the air between you. You stepped closer, your hand moving to his cheek, gently coaxing him to look at you.

“I know this is hard,” you said softly, your voice steady but filled with empathy. “But you’re still here for me, Noah. Even if we can’t tell anyone yet, that doesn’t change how much I care.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath as if trying to calm himself. When he opened them again, there was a softness there, a vulnerability that made your heart ache.

“I just want to be able to protect you,” he whispered, his hand coming up to cover yours on his cheek. “To be there for you. Without hiding.”

“You are there for me,” you whispered. “Always. And I’m here for you, too.”

He sighed, his breath warm against your lips as he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a soft, tender kiss. It was filled with all the unspoken words, the emotions he couldn’t express in front of your brother, the love he felt so deeply but had to keep hidden. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, as if he was afraid to let go.

When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he whispered, “Thank you.”

"For what?" You asked.

"For being mine. Even if they don't know."

You smiled softly, your hand moving to the back of his neck, fingers threading through his hair. “Always,” you promised, sealing your words with another gentle kiss, feeling the warmth of his arms around you, grounding you in the moment.

For now, that was enough.

The rest could wait.

[eraenaa]

A Bastard's Bride, A Dragon's Desire

Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen Princess Reader Tag List

Synopsis: They have betrothed you to Jacaerys as a way of securing a line to the throne if they fail in usurping your half-sister’s crown. Your older brother Aemond was livid at the decision.

Warnings: Targcest, Mature, 18+, Submissive Aemond (kinda), Oral Sex (M receiving), Boobjob, P in V Sex, Jealousy, Possessive, not proofread

Word Count: 4,327

“This cannot go! You dare betrothed my sister to a bastard!?” Aemond screamed at your grandfather and mother. Never have you seen him so angry and agitated. His lilac eye was wide in fury, his frame rigid in rage. You did not wish for the betrothal, but you did not have the same anger that Aemond showed. Screaming and spewing foul words as if he was the one being sent as a bride for the plain prince. “My prince— you will learn to hold your tongue.” Your grandfather warned. “We understand your qualms upon the match; believe it or not, we do not wish for it. But it is a marriage that must be made.” Your grandfather sighed, his eyes going to you, who had your head downcast, ready to silently meet your fate.

You peeked a look at Aemond, heart swelling at how protective your brother was. How he would defend and voice out the concerns and fears because you did not have the courage to. You tried to reach for his hand under the table; your touch always seemed to calm him, but he was in a state of utter anger— rage at a level he had never reached before. His vision was white hot at the injustice he believed to be presented— injustice greater than when his eye was taken. For how could they be so cruel to betroth you, his sweet, smart, and enchanting little sister, to a plain and weak bastard of House Strong? “I will not stand by this union,” Aemond seethed and stood from his chair. “With all due respect, my prince, you have no say nor sway upon the marriage— complain and rage as you would; you will not change the plans made. You swallowed thickly as Aemond marched out of the chambers of the council, your mother heavily sighing at the reaction of your older brother—his reaction to your betrothal confirmed her suspicions. 

You walked to your chambers and were slightly startled to see your older brother there. Staring intently at the fire, waiting for you. “They cannot do this— they cannot be allowed to dict—“ You sighed and shook your head, sitting upon a settee and bringing a pillow to your lap. “They have the power to— I have no choice but to do as they wish,” You answered. You knew of this— you always knew you were to be played like a pawn, sold like a sheep in order for them to have a greater claim to the throne. You’ve expected this for years— you have made your peace with it. 

Aemond turned to you, his eye dark and terrifying. “Why are you not angered? Why do you only obey without even a question?” He asked, threading closer to you. “Tell me, sister… do you wish to marry Jacaerys? Is that why you said no word when they made their plans known? Hm? Are you ecstatic at the thought of being a bastard’s bride?” Your lips agape at his words— at his anger that he now pointed towards you. 

“Grandfather was right— you must learn to hold your tongue.” You whispered. “You dare insult me, brother? You dare try to dress my quiet contempt as ecstasy in being a lamb for slaughter so they can continue on with their plans,” You whispered harshly as his face threaded closer to yours. His lilac eye softened and started to fill with remorse, but you shook your head, disheartened by the words he uttered. “Get out,” You said and stood, not wanting to face him any longer. Growing hurt at your brother for thinking as such. “Sister, I—“ he tried to get hold of your arm, but you stepped away. “Leave— I wish to be alone,” You muttered, hearing him sigh before doing as you asked. 

The following day, you confined yourself to your rooms. Ignoring the knocks of your maids, sister, mother, Aegon, and Aemond, who was the most persistent of them all. Trying to bribe you with sweets freshly made from the kitchen and then the promise of jewels and dresses that your heart was completely bemused with. You ignored all their calls and focused on the betrothal made. Trying hard to have a better outlook upon it— trying to find the little positives so you would not be so completely miserable with the marriage. “Ñuha hāedar, you must eat— please.” (My little sister) You hear Aemond call; it is time for supper, and you have not consumed a meal the entire day. He called your name once more, but you ignored it, simply staring out of the window to the starry night sky.  

“I swear to the gods I will break down this door!” Aemond gritted out— trying a new tactic because his pleading got him no reaction. The prince sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, growing tired of your stubbornness. He regretted raising his voice at you— wrongfully pointing his anger at you, who was simply a victim of their desire to ensure a line of power. He could not bear it— he could not have another thing taken from him by the Strongs. He already lost his eye to Lucerys— he’d rather burn the entire Kingdom than have to lose you to Jacaerys. 

Aemond sighed in relief as he heard you unbar the door, slowly opening it to reveal your sullen self. “The cake,” Was all you said through the little gap. Aemond bit his lip and handed you the platter that held your favorite sweet. He was to speak once more, offer his apologies but you were quick to shut the door and bar it again. 

The next day, you were finally forced out of your chambers. Your mother was persistent in readying you to meet your future betrothed. Having you fitted for new dresses as if you were a doll. You used to love that— you used to love spending hours discussing your visions and specificity for your dresses. You did not mind having to stand for hours whilst they took your measurements— you would even volunteer to embroider your own dress, but now the task seemed heavy. 

Aemond watched you as you were being spoken to about the plans they had made when your bastard kin was to come. He watched your sullen eyes, your deflated shoulders, your pouted lips. The rage in him started to return; he hated witnessing you be in such a state. He believed that you do not deserve to be given such a cruel fate. He believed that you deserve someone better—someone who was not a plain bastard. You deserved someone honorable and were of high standing. You deserved someone who would adore you, dote on you, spoil you, love you— you deserved to be with someone like him. Aemond clenched his jaw as you sighed heavily; your mother had ignored his wishes and pleas.

His mind was made long before. He knew he loved you more than the love a brother and sister shared. He loved you in the way of your house, in the way of a dragon— queer it must be in the eyes of the others, but he did not care; he loved you as a man would love his woman. But he was silent with his love, fearing you would not return it. Yes, he felt that you loved him, but he believed it only to be a familial kind— that it was not the same as the burning passion he had in his heart. 

Aemond lay on his bed, mind swimming in thoughts on how to save you. On how to make you his. It did occur to him that to make you his, he would have to admit the deep feelings he had and was certain of ever since he was but nine. That he would have to confess his devotion to you, his sweet little sister. He hears a small knock on his door, and he immediately knows it is you. The prince did not even stand, simply muttering for you to enter. No word was uttered as you closed the door and walked to him, who lay on his bed. Your brother was to sit up, but you moved to lay atop his chest— just like you often did in childhood. You wanted comfort, and your brother Aemond is always and you believe will forever be your greatest comfort. 

Aemond froze as you placed yourself atop him, letting your body press against his, your arms wrapping around his neck. You two did this often in childhood; whenever you felt glum or melancholic, you would place yourself atop him, and he would wrap his arms tightly around you. But as the both of you blossomed and grew into man and woman, you stopped doing such actions— growing weary and aware of your bodies. 

Aemond wrapped his arms around your waist. You were so warm and soft and plush. Your frame fitted perfectly against his— just like it always has. “I do not wish to marry him,” You mumble against his letter-clad chest, taking a deep breath to smell his scent: leather and citrus. “I know,” He mumbled against the top of your head. Aemond taking a deep breath of you— lavender and lilac invading him. 

“Perhaps I should flee…” you mused after a stretch of silence. “And go where?” Aemond asked. “I do not know… maybe Essos? I’ve always wanted to see YiTi, or I could go and find Old Valyria? Anywhere but here.” You sighed as Aemond ran his hand through your hair. Your body tingled with every stroke his hand made. “You would leave me?” He asked, and you shook your head. “No, you would come with me, of course.” Aemond smiled at your words. “Of course,” He agreed and placed a kiss atop your pretty head. You stayed in Aemond’s arms for hours— drifting off to slumber. Aemond stayed awake, wanting to savor the feeling of having you in his arms, indulging himself with the thought that you were his. 

However, as time went on and you were starting to wake, Aemond’s heart clenched at the thought of letting you go. Right then and there, he had decided. He decided to do what he never had the courage to do… he had to claim you and make it known to everyone that you were his and his alone. 

The scowl never left Aemond’s face as he and Helaena were tasked to escort you and Jacaerys. Having to watch you grow familiar with the boy they intend for you to marry made his heart wrench in jealousy— his stomach pitting in fear as he saw a small smile on your lips. Aemond resisted the urge to throw a dagger at his eldest bastard nephew when he dared take your hand to escort you down the steps of the courtyard. “You’re growing too obvious, brother,” Helaena muttered as she watched you acclimate yourself to the presence of the Strong Prince. “I do not care— let them know my intentions,” Aemond answered, holding tightly at the railing as he saw the enchantment in Jacaerys’ eyes as he spoke with you, body daring thread closer to yours. “I’m afraid there is not much you could do… they are to be bounded by blood,” Aemond shook his head, stubborn and unaccepting of their fates. 

When evening came, and supper was held for the whole of the family, Aemond stewed in anger as your place next to him was removed— moving your place to sit with your soon-to-be-announced betrothed. You took in a breath as Jacaerys took hold of your hand, a smile on his lips. But you could not focus on the joy he showed because you saw clearly the scowl on your brother’s. His hand tightly clenched around a dinner knife, his eye steady on you. 

“This is torture for you, isn’t it,” Aegon muttered to his younger brother. His eye held a spark of amusement at Aemond’s ire— but there was a tinge of concern at the uncertain look in your eyes as Jacaerys kept his hold on your hand. “Return to your seat,” Aemond gritted but Aegon kept still at his spot. “You’ve waited too long, brother… you must take matters into your own hands before it truly is all too late,” He advised. Aemond closed his eye at the temptation his brother’s words presented. “As much as I like to watch you suffer… control yourself and painfully deny yourself of pleasure— I’d rather have our little sister here with you than be with a bastard in Dragonstone.” 

Aemond gritted his jaw. “Enough, Aegon— what you suggest will not only dishonor me but our sister as well. You a—“ Aegon sighed and shook his head. “There is an opportunity for you, brother, to gain something you’ve wanted since we were children— lower your damned pride and self-righteousness and make her your own. Either that or watch her be married to Jacaerys; it’s your choice, Aemond.” Aegon warned and finally returned to his seat, leaving his younger brother silent, confused, and torn.  

You were in your chambers after the supper— you dismissed your handmaids, wanting to be left alone. You readied yourself, removing the pins in your hair as you stared at yourself in the mirror, your eyes admiring the dress made especially for the occasion. You sighed that such a pretty dress was made for the sole purpose of pleasing your future groom, whom you had no love nor fondness for. You stared at yourself in the mirror until you jumped in shock as you caught a glimpse of your older brother standing behind you. “You scared me,” You said as your eyes locked, you returning to remove the pins in your hair. 

You tried not to grow conscious at how he was in your chambers after dark, at how your dress was partly unlaced and the sleeves were starting to drape off, and you especially tried not to notice the dark look in Aemond’s eye that you could not read or process. “I have a gift for you,” Aemond said lowly, walking closer to you, who still faced the mirror, your eyes never leaving his as he approached. You took in a breath as you felt him behind you, a few inches away, but you still felt the heat that radiated from his body; you still smelt his familiar scent. 

“What is it?” You asked. Aemond wanted to smile as he saw the clear excitement in your eyes. You were always bemused by gifts and shiny things. “Close your eyes,” He dipped down and whispered. There was a hint of hesitancy in you, your skin growing with gooseflesh at the way he whispered in the shell of your ear and how his lips grazed your skin. You licked your lips as you were certain that you would recall this moment as you lay in your bed and pleasured yourself with the thought of Aemond. You were shameless to do such an act— seeking pleasure with the thought of your brother in mind. 

Aemond watched as you obeyed him and closed your eyes. His own wye flying to your lips, shiny and pink. How magnificent it must be to kiss them, he thought. Aemond is distracted as he stares at you, memorizing each part of your face. “What’s your gift?” You asked impatiently. Aemond made no answer. You froze as you felt something cold touch your bare upper chest. You peeled your eyes open, the orbs growing wide as you Aemond clasped a sapphire necklace around your neck. “Aemond…” You called in shock at the beautiful gift. Aemond took in a breath and let his fingers graze the soft skin of your shoulders, letting himself indulge and touch you in such a way. 

You finally turned to your brother, a somewhat satisfied look in his eye as you marveled at his gift. There was another emotion in his eye, something that was always present but you could never decipher. “Thank you,” You sincerely said. “Anything for you, ñuha perzys,” (my fire)

He had never called you that before. He had never addressed you with such a primal and almost possessive tone. You did not know what possessed you— why you did it. Too muddled in excitement and silent wanting perhaps, but you stood at the tip of your toes as kissed his lips. A kiss that was never meant for brother and sister— a kiss that was meant for the intimacy of man and wife. Aemond took in a harsh breath as he felt plump and soft lips against his— him tasting cherry wine and feeling a delicate frame against his. When the uncertainty left Aemond, he tried to move his arms to wrap around you— to flush you tight against him, but sensibilities returned, and you backed away. Fear trickles inside you as you realize what you have done. 

“I… I’m sorry… I should not have do—“ You could not word out the finality of your sentence as Aemond pulled you to him and smashed your lips. Holding you tight to him even though you tried to push him away, keeping your lips locked even though they should have never met. “Aemond,” You called as both of you gasped for air; his hold on you was tight and secure— painful even, but pain disguised itself as pleasure as you felt yourself grow in need with each passing moment you were in your brother’s arms. 

“You will never be his… you’re only mine.” He stated—a promise in his eye. You gasped as you felt him tear away your dress. “You want me, yes? Say it, my fire,” He whispered, tone desperate for you. “I want you… I need you,” You muttered and sighed as his lips met with yours again. “Say that you’re mine,” Aemond ordered, as his lips flew to your neck decorated with his gift. His hands planted on your shift-covered waist, not daring to move until you uttered that you were his as much as he was yours. “All yours, Aemond— never his, only yours,” You distractedly uttered as your mind clouded with the feel of his lips on your neck. That was the assurance Aemond needed to let his hands travel your frame. 

One of his strong hands gripped the flesh of your behind; the other went to your chest. Heaving and soft, the bud calling for his touch. He would have to admit, ever since womanhood struck you, he had grown tempted more than once by your tits. Especially when you have grown a fondness of wearing dresses with a lower cut, going against your mother’s orders, and proudly fashioning a neckline that exposed a tease of your bosom. A breathy moan escaped your lips as Aemond picked the bud, rolling it between his callused fingers. You’ve wanted to feel his touch for years now— deeply desired him that it started to make you grow crazed. And now to finally have him? You felt like you could come by just how his hand played with your tit and how his lips peppered kisses on your neck. 

“Tell me what you want, my fire,” He whispered in the shell of your ear as he noticed you closed your legs and whines leaving your lips. “You— I want you.” You said decisively. You watch his eye grow dark, his lips twitching. “Then you shall have me,” Aemond answered. You bit your lip as another wave of need washed over you. “Tell me how you want me,” Aemond said, giving you control. Your cheeks heat at his words, “I… I want you to lie on the bed,” You said quietly, making Aemond smirk. He dipped down and quickly kissed your lips before doing as you meekly ordered. 

You blushed even more as Aemond expectantly lay on your bed; you were uncertain about what you should do; you had a faint idea of what you wanted, but you lacked the courage to proceed. You gazed at him, though the most evident thing in his lilac eye was lust; you saw his encouragement through it. You swallowed your doubts and bit your lip, moving to remove your shift before him. Aemond turned rigged as you stripped the last of your clothing for him. Leaving you bare and completely exposed. You had not touched him yet, but he could not help but let out a groan of pleasure as he saw your body. You were truly carved by the gods themselves. 

You kept your bite on your lip as you threaded closer to him, bare and moving to straddle him. You hear him take a breath, his eye scanning your body. “Take off your eye patch,” You said, willing your voice to sound stronger. Aemond froze, hesitant to do so. You waited for him; the silence wanted you to take back what you said. Aemond mustered his own courage and let himself be exposed to you. You were taken aback as you saw him fully, as you realized why he chose to give you a sapphire necklace. No word was uttered as you kissed him again. Kissed him until both of you grew dazed. Your hands moved to remove his tunic and unbuckle his belt. Your lips grew downward from his lips to his jaw, then to his neck, to his chest, until finally, your lips hovered over the wanting bulge in his trousers.

Aemond felt himself grow cold in anticipation; a moan slipped his lips as you placed a light kiss on the cloth-covered bulge. You gazed up at him, eyes locking, both desperate for more— you decided to end both of your torments. You pulled down his trousers and revealed his hard length, needing and seeking for your touch. You licked your lips and placed a loud kiss on the tip of his cock; already releasing a clear bead of liquid. You were satisfied as Aemond let out another moan— he was usually so quiet… you would think he’d be quiet when in pleasure as well. 

Aemond shuddered as you took the tip of him in your warm mouth, your tongue circling his cock. You were barely doing anything, and he already felt the urge to release. You took in a deep breath and moved your head to take as much of his long and thick cock, your eyes watering as you could not physically fit the whole of him in your mouth. You were breathing heavily as his cock slipped out your lips, your hands moving up and down his length, coating it with wetness. 

Aemond marveled at every movement you made, every flutter of your eyes, every flick of your wrist. He was certain that he was in heaven as you positioned yourself, taking his cock in between your heavy and heaving tits. Your name slipped lips, lost in utter pleasure as you fucked him with your tits. His large cock fits nicely between your ample bosom. Aemond fisted the silk sheets of your bed, his toes curling in utter pleasure as your movements fastened and as you moaned as your nipples grazed along his skin. You clenched your legs together, feeling the tightening coil of release even though it was you who was pleasuring him. 

Aemond felt himself ready for release but he could not have that— not yet. You gasped as you were yanked off, Aemond switching your positions. Now, you were the one to lay beneath him. You feel him coat himself with your wetness, his cock teasing your folds. “Make me yours,” You whispered.

Aemond groaned as his cock pushed inside your— your walls already clenched and painfully wrapped around him. You feel the prickle of tears as he tore his way through you, the blood from having your maidenhead taken mixing with the wanting essence of your cunt. You let out a shuddered breath as you feel him fill you— fully inside you and the tip of his cock hitting a place that made you forget about the pain of taking him fully. 

Aemond let out pleasured breaths as he tucked his head in your neck, deeply inhaling your scent and savoring the way you moaned his name and how you clung to him. Your fingernails scratching along his back, your hips moving to meet his thrusts. “I thought you innocent, sister— but look at you… you act like such a whore,” Aemond nipped your neck, leaving a mark for all to see. “Just for you… only for you,” You managed to say in between moans. Aemond let out a groan at how you declared yourself his— only his. 

Aemond’s thrust grew faster; your moans grew louder as both of you sought release. Aemond removed his head from your neck and admired the whole of you under him. Your tits bounced with each and every thrust, your lips parted, and your eyes rolled back in pleasure—the sapphire necklace he gave shining from the light of the moon. Aemond let out a groan through gritted teeth as he realized your hand moved to draw circles upon your needing bud, shameless as you pleasured yourself whilst he pleasured you. “Aemond… I’m— I’m,” You instead moaned, the words not coming to you as you felt yourself ready to release. 

“Scream my name when you come— let them know who you belong to,” Aemond ordered with one last thrust, you doing as he said. His name leaving your lips with the tone of nothing but sheer pleasure. Aemond gave a deep final thrust before filling you with his seed— making certain that all part of you will be his. 

That night, you and Aemond slept peacefully and satisfied in each other’s arms. Waiting for morning to come for all to see that the only one you belong to— that the only one you wanted bound to you was your brother.

[clauscielo]

⊰⊹ pure, uncorrupted

pairing: arthur morgan & virgin!reader.

summary: you are too pure, too naive. and he hates to see other men fantasizing about tainting you. so, before someone else does - he decides to do it himself.

warnings: mentions of rape/sexual abuse, past physical/psychological abuse, corruption kink, arthur takes reader's virginity, arthur is protective, but lonely and hates himself. legal age gap, oral sex (fem receiving), p-in-v sex, loving sex, creampie - english is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes!

he would never forget that day. trelawny had told them a few weeks earlier that, southwest of valentine, just a mile from the village, there was a farm: two houses and a barn. trelawny claimed there was a large amount of money hidden there, illegitimately earned by the family.   

that's why they went. micah, bill and arthur set out into the night, riding toward that farm. thieves robbing thieves.   

the family consisted of a father and two sons. they had no choice but to wipe them all out. arthur had never liked to take the lives of innocent people, but these people... they didn't feel right.   

the house was very untidy inside, grimy, and there was a padlocked door on the upper floor. while micah and bill ransacked the downstairs, he took a look at the bedrooms, and of course, kicked in the locked room door.   

you were in there. cowering on the bed, pressed against the wall, shivering and sobbing. you had heard gunshots and banging, you had tried your best not to make any noise, but they had found you. arthur was perplexed. he studied you for a few seconds, processing the situation: this family had you locked in this room. you were wearing torn and dirty rags, and your room was even more neglected. there were flies, food from days ago, and only one bed in the room.   

“it's okay, it's okay. i ain't gonna hurt you,” he finally said, slowly approaching you.   

micah arrived shortly after, and a crooked smile came across his face.   

“well look at this, morgan! i say we have some fun. bill, get up here!” his cruel words irritated arthur deeply.   

“get out of here, you foul thing! wait downstairs!” he raised his voice, and micah only let out a challenging laugh. still, he obeyed, after arthur shot him a menacing glare. 

you, still shaking and weeping on the bed, watched him. the thought that the man in front of you had protected you from the others, soothed you a little.   

arthur couldn't kill you. how could he kill you? it wasn't an option.   

“what are you doing here, girl?” he moved a little closer and noticed that one of your legs was covered in bruises.   

“i-i was... grounded,” you mumbled, between sobs. arthur frowned and clicked his tongue.   

“were those your father and brothers?” he asked, his hand hesitantly stroking your forearm, seeking to calm you.   

you nodded, hot, copious tears streaming down your flushed cheeks. he sighed.  

“they're dead. i'm sorry,” he began, and his heart shrank at your obvious expression of relief. “you can come with us, we won't hurt you. we'll take you to valentine,” he added.  

you nodded, raising your arms toward him. arthur accepted the gesture, and with his strong hands on your armpits, he lifted you and carried you in his arms, heading for his horse.   

you refused to stay in valentine that night. you begged again and again to be taken with them. and this snarling, distrustful outlaw, softened at the image of you, a forlorn young woman alone in this world that had so embittered him over the years.   

“we're taking her,” arthur said to the other men.   

“morgan! we can't afford another mouth to feed!” bill protested.   

“we're taking her,” he insisted, his tone firm and intimidating, and the others snorted.   

 it had been months since that night. you were accepted into the gang of outlaws arthur lived with, but you had a hard time adjusting. you developed an unhealthy attachment to the man who had rescued you, who you considered your hero. whenever arthur was in camp, you followed him, trying to talk to him. being close made you feel better. but he was very cold most of the time.   

“girl, really, you need to leave me alone. what d'ya want now?” he said, his tone showing irritation, when you approached to talk to him for the tenth time today.   

 your smile vanished, your expression transforming into one of pain and embarrassment. you blushed and lowered your gaze, and before you could say anything, he snorted heavily.   

 “i'm sorry. i'm sorry, i just like to be alone, you know that,” he replied, exasperated. 

 you fiddled anxiously with the edge of your blouse, pursing your lips sheepishly.  

“i just wanted to be with you for a little while,” your voice came out shaky and low. arthur's heart almost melted.   

“come,” he said, curtly, sitting down on his bed.   

“no, n-no need. i'm sorry to disturb you.”   

“come,” he repeated, louder now, as a demand.   

 you shrank back but obeyed and sat down next to him. he looked at you, his blue eyes scrutinizing your sad, anxious expression, his frown easing.   

“i can't be with you all the time,” he explained. your lip quivered, and you nodded.   

“i know. i know. i'm sorry.”  

“it's not because i don’t want to. it's because this... this thing you got with me, it can't go on,” he said, his hand stroking your hair, tucking a lock behind your ear, his actions contradicting his words. “you're gonna have to leave here someday. and if we don't stop this in time...” his words trailed off.   

“i don't want to leave.”   

“you're absolutely gonna leave. don't be silly. you don't belong in this kind of life. when you get your strength back, i want you out of here.”

 you looked at him, wide-eyed, silent.   

“don't look at me like that,” he spat, annoyed. but a second later, he sighed. “we're not doing you any good. not me, not anyone here. you understand that, don't you?”   

“i don't have anyone else. i'll be alone,” you said, your heart racing with fear.   

 arthur stroked your cheek, thoughtfully. he had grown so fond of you these past few months, that he could hardly imagine his life without you anymore. but the rational part of him knew you had no future here, not with someone like him.   

 that's why he pushed you away. that's why he tried to ignore you. he couldn't stand seeing the way you looked at him, like he was a hero, a savior. because arthur was nothing like that. arthur was a criminal, a murderer, a ruthless, bitter, outlaw with no future, someone who only brought tragedy into people's lives.   

“i don't like it when you're this mean to me,” you muttered, pouting, still hurt by how he had greeted you when you came.   

“i know. forgive me,” he whispered, looking at your hand. he wanted to take it, to feel it, but didn't dare to.   

 weeks passed. arthur hated the way the men looked at you. micah, especially. that sick, deranged bastard. he mocked your innocence, your naivety.   

“well, i've been dying to deflower that little lassie, the new one. ever since we saw her at the farm i been saying we have fun with her, but morgan won't let us,” protested micah, sipping from his bottle of whiskey, one night by the fire.   

“do you think she's a virgin?” javier replied with curiosity.  

“please!” interjected bill, laughing. “that girl doesn't even know what screwing is.”   

 “of course she doesn't. i told her to blow me the other day and she just looked at me with those dopey eyes of hers,” micah cackled.   

 arthur overheard the conversation and felt his insides boil. listening to those nasty old men, talking so crudely about a young, proper lady like you, made him sick.   

 “what the fuck are you talking about?” arthur snarled. he snatched the whiskey bottle from micah's hand and faced him, with an annihilating glare. “if you ever talk about her like that again, you better make sure i don't hear. or i'll cut that throat of yours so you never say a fucking word again,” he said, his voice low and intense, getting micah to turn away, letting out a nervous laugh.   

 he retreated to his tent, furious, and was startled to find you there. he put his hand to his chest and shook his head. “what are you doing here, you want to scare me to death?” he wheezed, anger still boiling inside him.   

 you looked at him with a smile and showed him a flower crown in your hands. “look what i did,” you declared, proudly, your eyes on his, perhaps seeking approval in his expression. he eased back and couldn't hide a soft smile, gentle and loving. he took the floral diadem and placed it on your head.   

 “beautiful,” he whispered. you blushed heavily and pressed your lips together, excited.  

“i was reading and in the book, it explained how to make it and what flowers were ideal for it. i think it turned out really pretty,” you explained.   

 “yes. it looks very pretty. but you should be sleeping,” he scolded you.

 “i'm sorry. i was excited and wanted to wait for you to come back,” you defended yourself. he smiled.   

 he couldn't help but bring his hands to your face. you were so precious, so candid and credulous. and those abhorrent men were talking about deflowering you just a few minutes ago... it made him feel like throwing up.   

the affectionate gesture surprised you. your cheeks grew warmer. “what's wrong?” you asked, uneasy, and he dropped his hands to either side of his body.   

 “nothing. nothing,” he huffed, rubbing his face with his hand, frustrated, confused.   

 he knew he didn't do you any good. but how could he let you go? the world was full of disgusting men like micah. men who wouldn't hesitate to hurt this girl he had come to love.   

 he pushed past you and sat down on his bed.   

 “i want you to keep away from micah no matter what, do you understand? whatever he says to you. you stay away. and if he bothers you, you come and tell me immediately,” he said, without looking at you, his tone stern.   

 you didn't answer, you just nodded. you would do anything this man asked of you.   

 “are you sad?” you asked, moving closer to him. arthur was slow to answer, still not looking you in the eye.   

 “yeah. i am,” he admitted, sighing. you sat down next to him, and hugged him, trying to comfort him and also, seeking solace.   

arthur wanted to push you away, to scold you for invading his space, to urge you to leave him alone. but he couldn't do that anymore. he didn't want you to leave, and each and every time he had asked you to stay away, he had betrayed himself. he let himself enjoy your touch, your scent, and your warmth for the first time. he closed his eyes and leaned in slightly, sliding his arms around you.   

 “forgive me for being a sorry son of a bitch to you,” he whispered, very remorseful.   

“it's okay. forgive me for always being annoying.”   

 “you're not annoying. don't ever say that again,” he replied, his chest vibrating against yours every time his husky voice made itself heard. “i've been a real jerk.”   

 you fell silent. you didn't understand what this was about. and arthur was grateful for your ignorance. he wouldn't know how to comfort you, how to make you forget those nauseating words if you had heard how you were spoken of before.   

 “i need to lie down, sweetheart. i'm very tired,” he mumbled, pulling away a little. the affectionate nickname made your heart skip a beat. you nodded, watching him lie down, his expression one of displeasure.   

 “can i stay with you?” you whispered, fearful that he would say no. but he nodded without hesitation, and you settled in next to him. his heart was about to burst out of his chest. he let you snuggle up to him, and his arm slipped loosely around your waist.   

 “gonna stop by saint denis tomorrow to run some errands. wanna come with me?” he asked, and you looked up at him, your eyes widening with excitement.   

 “really?” arthur let out a chuckle and confirmed. “yes, please. i'd like that very much.”   

your excitement stirred something inside him. he felt a warmth in his chest that he had never felt before. such a sweet being like you...and your father and brothers had you locked in a filthy room, only to be discovered by men who just wanted to fuck you and leave you stranded. what would have become of you if he hadn't gone and robbed that farm with the others that night?   

“okay, sweetheart.” he used the nickname again, which made you grin like a fool. “i'm gonna sleep now, okay?” he said, and stretched his arm over you, reaching over to the bedside table to put a glass over the candle to put it out.   

 you pouted, and rested your head on his chest. “okay,” you whispered back, closing your eyes.   

 arthur was trying to hide it, but he was so nervous. it had been ages since he'd been this close to a woman, let alone a woman such as yourself. his pants had started to tighten since you first curled up with him, though he tried to act normal, his heart pounding in his chest.   

innocently, you ran a leg over his thigh, sighing. his arm tightened around your waist. he was restless, tense, and kept shifting his posture every few minutes.   

 inevitably, his eyes opened in the darkness. he couldn't sleep.   

“i like being like this with you,” you whispered when you noticed he was still awake. “it gives me... this nice, funny feeling in my tummy,” you added, and arthur let out a shaky sigh.   

“oh, yeah...?” he replied, absently, your words replaying in his mind.   

 “yes... it always happens to me when i'm around you,” you confessed, your candid statement making his cock grow harder in his pants.   

“don't get used to it,” he growled. you looked up, saddened.   

 “don't you like being like this, together?” you asked, your voice low and apologetic. arthur exhaled hoarsely.   

 “too much, darlin'. too much,” he admitted, without looking at you. he was getting carried away.   

 you slid slowly onto his lap, and his breath hitched.   

 “what in the world are you doing?” he whispered. he panicked, feeling your pelvis right on top of his erection, which he had been trying to hide all this time.   

 “i want to be real close to you,” you whispered. “do you mind?”   

 he looked at you with pleading eyes and shook his head, he was speechless. he tried to push you away, but his hands wouldn't move.

 “the book talked about this too... about men, women...” you began, your voice shy as you explained.   

 “no. we're not doing this, girl,” he protested. but he didn't really mean it. the least he wanted right now was for you to get off of him.   

 “please...” you begged. “i just want to know how it feels.”   

 his face was burning, his cock throbbing desperately in his pants, needing urgent relief. so you were indeed a virgin.   

 this wasn't right. he wouldn't take advantage of you.   

 “why?” you wanted to know.   

 “you're a virgin,” he declared, in a low gasp. you didn't respond, just shrank back a tiny bit, with shame. “my god, you're a virgin... no, i... i can't. i can't.” he covered his face.   

 arthur had never been with a virgin before. let alone a virgin with a life like yours. were you even aware of the importance of what you were asking? 

 “oh, don't do this to me, please,” he whimpered, his hands sliding over your thighs, down to your buttocks. you blushed and let out a sigh of pleasure, rolling your hips against his, trying to ease the burning between your legs. arthur let out a low moan, his eyes half closed, his cheeks red.   

 “baby... we can't... not with me,” he whispered, desperate.  

“i want it to be with you,” you murmured. and he had no more strength to resist.   

“do... do you want me to put it inside you?” he asked, pressing his pelvis against yours, making you feel his whole erection, warm and big against you.   

 “yes, please...” you begged.   

 “oh, sweetheart...” he swallowed, flustered. it had been so long since he'd last had sex, and now he had a beautiful, untouched woman in his lap, begging to be fucked. it felt like a goddamn dream. and he felt disgusting about it, but he was so turned on by the idea of taking your virginity. he felt like a hypocrite.   

 his hand slid down your ass cheek and under your nightgown. his fingers reached for your panties, his arm around your leg to touch you.   

 “you're so wet,” he murmured. he closed his eyes for a moment, the heat feeling a little overwhelming. “take off your nightgown, baby.”   

 obedient, you removed the garment slowly, remaining in his lap, your body covered only by your bra and panties. arthur exhaled, salivating, his gaze gliding over every inch of your exposed skin.   

 “you are exquisite,” he said to himself, almost as a reproach. he shouldn't have to be doing this. but he couldn't stop. he just couldn't. he began to unbutton his shirt. “can i see your tits?” he asked, rhetorically, since he knew that without complaint you would take off your bra. and so you did.   

 his lips and tongue immediately landed on the soft skin of your breasts, after having devoured you with his gaze for a few seconds. his lips left kisses, his tongue caressing and frolicking around your nipples. you moaned and stirred on his lap, immersed in pleasure and desperate for more.   

 he removed his shirt, and eagerly, unbuckled his belt. 

 “gonna get on top, it may hurt a little this way,” he whispered between kisses. you nodded, and let him grab you by the thighs, your arms around his neck as arthur changed position.   

 he laid you down gently, and his hands crawled up your thighs, spreading your legs. his eyes lowered to your crotch, the fabric of your underwear was visibly wet.   

 “darlin'... i'm not gonna last. haven't done this in a long time,” he said, his hands shaking a little, he was so horny he could barely think coherently.   

 “i-it's okay,” you murmured sheepishly.   

 he knelt between your legs, and placed soft, warm kisses on the sensitive skin of your thighs, moving closer and closer to your center. he kissed your pussy over your underwear, and pressed his face to it, inhaling your scent.  

“delicious,” he purred, closing his eyes, sucking and kissing over the fabric. his hands, big and strong, squeezed your flesh, eager to feel you. his right hand traveled down to your crotch, pushing aside the annoying material of your panties. “what a pretty little pussy,” he growled, and glued his mouth to it, licking between your warm wet lips, sucking on your clit, devouring you like a hungry man.   

you moaned, your legs trembling. his hands pressed against your thighs, spreading them wider, and when his fingers left your panties, they again came between you and his touches.   

 “fuck,” he hissed in frustration, and roughly, he yanked them off you, sinking his face back between your legs, parting you wide and devouring you with both intensity and desperation. 

 “i'm going to put my fingers in, okay?” he warned, looking down at you, his beard wet with your juices, his cheeks red. you nodded, your gaze clouded with pleasure. his ring and middle finger teased your sensitive, dilated entrance. slowly he slid them inside, feeling the rough texture of your insides tightening around his thick digits. he moved them slowly inside you, curving and massaging your insides lovingly, while his tongue and lips fed on your juices and moans, sucking on your sensitive, sweet spot.   

 “you're so tight,” he gasped. he pulled away briefly, to pull down his pants. his cock sprung, flushed and swollen, eager for the delicious relief only you could bring him. “look how you got me, baby...” he whispered, wrapping his member in his left hand, squeezing it slowly. “how you get me, always.”   

 your pussy clenched around nothing, feeling emptier than ever. “please... arthur,” you whimpered. he looked at you, unsure, was he really doing this? you deserved better than this. something so much better than this.   

 but the urges in his body were too strong, they absolutely ruled him. he placed his cock against your center, gripping it firmly, and rubbing its tip between your lips, pressing lightly as it met your entrance, tiny but eager.   

 “darlin’... what the hell are we doing?” he said, sliding in just the tip, which was thick enough to make you whimper. “ow... baby.”   

 you felt so full. you looked down, and you could see his thick member, disappearing inside you. your pussy throbbed and squeezed him, unable to adjust to his size. he was huge.   

 before he got it all in, arthur had to pull it out a little. “you're too tight,” he let out a pitiful whimper. “i'm gonna cum.” he added with embarrassment.   

 he pulled out, taking a deep breath. he leaned down to kiss you. he kissed your lips lovingly. god, he'd been so rude, not kissing you all this time. he relished your lips, and you could feel the wetness of his beard against your chin and cheeks. he penetrated you again, and this time he entered you somewhat more easily.   

 “enjoy, sweetheart... just enjoy,” he whispered, watching your face contort in pleasure. he had to close his eyes, imagine the horses, the flowers, the bees, the smell of the barns, or he would cum right there, inside you. he pushed it all the way in, his tip pressing against your cervix. “does it hurt, honey?” 

 “no, no... i... it feels so good...” you moaned. you felt so full, his cock was so thick you felt like there wasn't an inch of you he wasn't touching right now. every little movement of his hips, pressing against yours as he nestled his face into your neck, made you shudder.   

 “fuck... yes, squeeze me like that,” he begged, closing his eyes tighter, starting to move his hips, his hands squeezing your thighs and pressing them against the bed, spreading you wide to penetrate you deeply. “thank you, thank you...” he gasped hoarsely.   

 your small hands clung to him, your nails sinking into the flesh of his back, his big, strong back, as his whole body enveloped and filled you.   

 one of his hands slipped between your bodies, and he began rubbing your clit, each thrust making his member bury itself deep and hard inside you, your tight body giving him no respite.   

 “please tell me you're close. i can't hold on much longer,” his voice sounded strained, cracked. the bed creaked beneath you, his hips slapping against your ass every time he bottomed out inside you. 

 “yes, yes, please don't stop,” you whimpered. his hot, sweaty skin clung to yours, the heat under the sheets thick. his smell, salty and masculine flooded your nostrils, and his cock filled you, again and again, your snug cunt squeezing, sucking him deeper and deeper inside.   

your orgasm was intense. you trembled beneath him, your cries and mewls getting louder, and you writhed, your pussy milking him dry. arthur frowned in concentration, letting out soft grunts and whimpers as he moved within you. he came too, couldn't help it, his legs quivering as well. his thrusts became ragged and desperate, his eyes rolled back slightly as his cum filled you, hot and thick. "oh, god," he whined quietly. his strong arms hugged you closer, pressing you tighter to him as he left you completely full of him.   

 “d-darling,” he gasped, shuddering on top of you, his strokes slowing, until he stopped. his hands, scratchy from work and guns, slid over your sweaty skin and squeezed your breasts and hips, before holding you tight. “don't leave me, please.”

[justwinginglife]

I'm so not helping your overflowing request box, but like, can I get a big brother Narumi Gen with f!reader and hoshina?

Narumi goes absolutely feral everytime hoshina flirts with Reader so he does it more and more just to push his buttons (but also because he likes us)

I'm just gonna combine this request with @imthecosmicbasball's request to have a part two to my "Thicker Than Blood" fic. Cuz I can and I'm lazy. Part one here.

Gen had just gotten you back. He had finally gotten the family he had always wanted, the little sister he could shower with adoration. And he did shower you with it. Now that he could show his emotions freely, he never stopped spoiling you.

He’d buy you anything and everything you wanted. At first, he’d sneak it into your room (which earned him snarky comments from Hoshina, claiming he was a pervert, “this isn’t one of those incest animes is it?”) and leave the gifts lying somewhere you’d find it, denying that he ever bought you anything. He was happy just to make you happy, he didn’t need you to know he was responsible for the growing pile of gifts in your room. But then he got tired of Hoshina claiming credit for them so he started flourishing them in front of you, waiting for your praise, for your thanks. And when you freely gave it to him, he adored you even more.

He had just gotten you back, and he wasn’t about to let you go now. He was making up for lost time. So then why did stupid fucking Hoshina always get in the way??

Gen thought that his whole dramatic declaration in the hospital would be enough to gain some leeway with Hoshina, but Hoshina was on his ass even more, now that he knew the two of you were related. His usual, bothersome teasing had turned into relentless, aggravating taunts. If Gen was even a minute later than he said he’d be when meeting up with you, Hoshina would make snide remarks about how that wasn’t very “brotherly” of him to be abandoning his only sister like that. And when Gen learned how to cook so he could make a nice dinner for you, Hoshina stole a bite of your food (Gen had only made enough for you and him) and gagged on it, saying if your job didn’t kill you, his cooking would. Gen hated him making jokes about you dying. He would never let you die under his watch. Maybe Hoshina wasn’t good enough to protect you, but he was. 

His growing frustration with Hoshina continued, as Hoshina kept poking his stupid bowl cut into every conversation Gen tried to have with you, stealing you away at the last second, tossing out some lame excuse about how you had to go train or how Captain Ashiro wanted to see you (Gen even made the effort to check in with Ashiro, because of how frequently she supposedly "needed you"- she never needed you at all, that damn bastard). Then, eventually, he didn’t even have an excuse anymore. He’d just say, “Yeah, Narumi, I’m gonna take her anywhere but here, with you. Just cuz I can.” If you weren’t so in love with his stupid smile, Gen would punch it off his face. 

But the thing he hated the most -though he’d never admit it to you- even more than Hoshina being a dick was Hoshina being a gentleman. 

If Hoshina was just a dick, Gen could claim that he wasn’t good for you. He could whisk you away, convince you to see the truth. But the unfortunate truth was that Hoshina was actually a good guy. He was a dick to Gen but a sweetheart to you, and though Gen hated him immensely, it was hard to deny that he took good care of you. But did he have to love on you so frequently and so explicitly in front of him??

It drove Gen crazy that every time he visited, Hoshina was attached at the hip to you. He’d be kissing at your neck or playing with your hair or massaging your shoulders. And you’d continue your conversation with Gen as though Hoshina weren’t literally trying to meld himself into your very being. Did he think if he touched you enough he’d become part of you?? Why did he touch you so fucking much?

Once, he even had the audacity to slap your ass in front of Gen. Shortly after, Gen broke his hand and you scolded Gen to no end. When you left the room to get an ice pack, Gen smirked at Hoshina (who had just previously been putting on the “wounded animal” act for you and was now glaring daggers at him like a feral beast) and whispered to him, “Guess you won’t be getting her off anytime soon.” 

Hoshina returned his smirk with a cocky “I’m ambidextrous, motherfucker, I could get your little sister whimpering with either hand. Matter of fact, I could do it no-handed, with just my tongue if I wanted. If she begged. And she begs so nicely.” He winked. Gen would’ve punched his eye out too, but you came back into the room, a suspicious look on your face. 

“Just telling your big brother about our evening plans, dear.” Hoshina purred. 

You raised an eyebrow, unaware you had made specific plans with Hoshina that night, but didn’t pursue the conversation further, eager to treat his hand. 

And then, when you’d visit Gen at his place, even if Hoshina wasn’t with you, he’d make sure to send you on your way with his marks all over you. Marks that made Gen uncomfortable, marks that distracted him thoroughly as he tried to make you tea (he almost poured hot water on his own hand trying to fill a cup for you). The marks continued to plague him even after you left, sending a shudder through his body as he imagined a smug Hoshina laying his claim on you purposely to piss him off. 

He knew Hoshina loved you, but unfortunately for him, it was an added perk for Hoshina that loving you just so happened to annoy Gen. 

Gen had missed all the years of you waddling around, just learning how to walk, all the years clinging to him when a movie was too scary or a thunderstorm was too loud. He had missed comforting you when you lost a tooth, he had missed showing off his strength and might to you when you were afraid of the monsters in the closet. He’d missed everything. You didn’t need him anymore. Maybe you never would’ve needed him. But he wanted the chance to act like a big brother for once in his life. And he didn't want to miss a second more.

So he spent his days butting heads with your boyfriend, vying for your attention, and that just became routine. Your two favorite men, constantly trying to out-love you. 

Years later, when Hoshina would ask him for his permission to marry you, Gen would choke on his shock at how respectable Hoshina was finally being, but he’d reluctantly give his blessing. He knew you would be taken care of.

And besides- if you ever wanted a divorce, Gen had the money to burn.

[satoshy12]

Heir of a Tyrant

Upon discovering that Danny was the rightful inheritor of both the Crown of Fire and the Ring of Rage, Vlad executed a de-aging scheme by instructing Skulker to poison and attack Danny. The poison transformed Danny into a child, rendering him too young to claim the throne. As an older Halfa, Vlad intended to seize the position of Proxy and rule the zone with Danny as his ward. Jazz, however, could not allow this to happen and fled Amity Park with her newly-turned toddler brother. As Jazz attempted to flee, she landed in various cities, yet Vlad's followers persisted in their pursuit. Fortunately, even though the heroes typically disregarded Amity Park, they were now determined to safeguard them. From Wonder Woman and Superman to the Flash and even the Green Arrow and Black Canary, along with Martian Manhunter, they all came to their aid. It was heartwarming to see how ecstatic little Baby Danny was whenever an alien or space hero appeared, while he was utterly uninterested when a mundane hero was around. Green Lantern won him over by mentioning that he was a Space Police officer and part of the Airforce. Danny found nothing wrong with this Space is Space! Jazz believed that Wonder Woman was somewhere in the middle since Danny liked her but not as much as the Alien Heroes. Nonetheless, he did not detest her or find her dull. Jazz believes it might have something to do with Pandora. In a meeting of the Justice League, the heroes gathered to discuss recent events they had encountered. To their surprise, each of them had encountered a green monster that they had to fight. The alien heroes in attendance spoke about how cute the toddler was that they had seen, as well as his red-haired caretaker. This caught the attention of Wonder Woman, Superman, Green Arrow, Black Canary, and Martian Manhunter, who were surprised to hear about the others' encounters. Batman spoke up and asked why the monster was hunting the toddler and the babysitter. Shazam explained that they were beings from the Infinity Realm, and that he had heard about this place from the Gods. However, he suggested that John Constantine might know more. When John Constantine confirmed what Shazam had said, the group turned their attention to the captured Vulture, hoping to get some answers. They learned that the toddler was actually the heir of Pariah Dark Throne, and that the Ghost had been sent to capture him and bring him to their boss. Their boss wanted to take the toddler's crown and control the Realm for himself, by making himself Danny's guardian.

As they learned by Shazam, Zatanna and John's shocked faces, Pariah was a Evil Dark Tyrant that was sealed by Ancient for a good Reason too. And someone who wants to take his place would be the same, the most important thing at the moment would be to find the duo and protect them, and make sure that the Boy will not grow up to be a Tyrant or be used to take control of armies and realms.

All the Planning the Justice League and Justice League Dark did for the weeks, was to be kicked out as Bruce saw the tiny toddler Black Haired blue eyed toddler and just changed the whole plan to just adopt the Duo.

[azrielsdove]

Love and Loss: Ch.5

Warnings: Angst, Suggestive, 18+

Ch.4 Here | Ch.6 Here

***

As if Rhysand couldn’t get any more insufferable, he was refusing to get rid of the marriage bond. You had taken to wearing long sleeves, covering the tattoo that symbolized your love for so many years. He was doing it to further upset you, annoyed that his brothers came to your aid. In his mind, everything he did was justified and as their High Lord they should have been on his side.

It took you a week to recover from his attack on your mind, plagued with awful nightmares whenever you tried to sleep. Madja had ended up giving you a sleeping daught, knocking you out for two days straight. You welcomed it, wishing you would never wake.

Azriel and Cassian had decided that one of them would remain by your side at all times. You were getting tired of their constant protectiveness, but you appreciated them more than they would ever know. They could have allowed you to die at Rhysand’s hand that night, standing by their brother as always. Instead they went directly against him, saving your life in the process. You knew they were being punished for their actions. Cassian had told you how he was trying to send them away on different missions, missions they both refused. On more than one occasion they had come back bruised and bloody, a sign of the High Lords anger.

Azriel was sitting with you in the private library, the two of you reading quietly. He was surprised you wanted to return to this room, that you still took comfort in it. You had explained that you refused to let Rhysand take all joy away from you. So he sat in the armchair across from you, a shadow whispering over your skin from time to time.

Your eyes were focused on the book in your hands, but your mind was lost in the memory that had been pulled from you the night of the attack. When you told Azriel about Rhysand, and the strange way he reacted. You had been replaying that afternoon over and over, remembering the way you he avoided you for months after that. It left an uncomfortable feeling in you, like there was something you didn’t know. Rhysand had been ever more charming after that, finding you that night to press harsh kisses on your skin. He left countless marks over you, claiming you as his. Then you thought it was endearing, romantic. Now, you weren’t so sure.

You weren’t sure if anything Rhysand ever did or said was real. As angry as you were at him, you struggled to believe your entire marriage had been a lie. A lie to, he said, ‘dangle over Azriel’s head’. You were beginning to understand there had always been more at stake, and that maybe you chose the wrong male all those years ago.

Your gaze moved up from your book, looking to the male sitting across from you. You took in the way his leg was propped on top of the other, one large hand resting on it. Your eyes traveled up his massive arms, focusing on how tiny his book seemed in his giant grip. His eyebrows were furrowed, hazel eyes moving as they read the words in front of him. You stared at the sharp angle of his jaw, the lip he was biting on as he read. The shadows swirling around him sped up, running through his hair and down his neck at the notice of you. You were overcome with desire for that to be you, to run your fingers down his neck. You imagined the sounds he would make as you touched him, the way he would moan your name when you sucked-

“Hello? You okay over there?” His words broke you out of your heated daydream, your legs squeezing tight together. You couldn’t help the low blush the covered your cheeks, coughing slightly.

“Uh, yea. Sorry. I was just, thinking.” You got out, shoving your face back into your book. You were confused by the sudden lust for your friend, and embarrassed that he had caught you staring at him.

“Okay,” he chuckled, sensing your lie. He turned back to his book, but your eyes didn’t dare move up to him again. What was going on with you?

***

Azriel’s POV

Fuck, he cursed, watching the blush spread over her cheeks. He shifted slightly, trying to cover his hard-on. He hadn’t excepted her to be looking at him like that, pupils blown wide and mouth slightly open. It took everything in him to not jump across the coffee table and take her on that sofa, make her cry out his name for everyone to hear.

He pulled his eyes back to his book, trying to push the filthy thoughts away. He was used to thinking them about her, he would admit. However, he was not used to her thinking them about him. He knew exactly what was going through her mind while her gaze roved over him, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He couldn’t help but think back to all those years ago, when he should have stopped her from going with Rhys.

He had a bad feeling when she had told him Rhys was courting her. Something stirred in his chest, a warning to protect her. He knew his brother was aware how he felt about her, and yet he still chose to peruse her. It seemed most unlike Rhys at the time, to be so blatantly disrespectful to him. The words on the page blurred as his mind went back to that day.

He flew directly to Rhys, certain that she had to be misunderstanding his intentions. He rushed into his study, pulling him out of whatever important documents he was reading. “Az!” Rhys greeted warmly, smiling at him.

Azriel did not return the warmth.

“What are you playing at?” He demanded, shadows flitting about anxiously.

“Excuse me?” Rhys asked, expression turning cold.

“You’re courting her now?” Azriel’s voice was hard, barely keeping his anger in at the wicked smile Rhys threw at him.

“Is that a problem, brother?”

“You know that it is.”

“Do I? All you said is that you think there is something between you. If she wanted you, why would she choose to go with me?”

Azriel’s temper flared, his wings spreading as his anger ran through him. “Why go after her, Rhys?”

He took in the cold eyes and cruel smile on the High Lords face, unable to believe this was the same male he had called his brother all these years. “I like a challenge, Az.”

“She isn’t a game, Rhysand.”

“Not her. You. How far are you willing to go to get the girl?” Azriel glared at the teasing look on his face, wanting to rip it off.

“I will not interrupt her happiness with you. If you truly love her, I will stand down.”

Rhys laughed. “Ever the gallant male.” He stood, walking around the desk to face Azriel. “I don’t love her yet. I do, however, love making you mad. I love the sounds she makes when she’s under me, I love the way she moans my name. Would you like to see, brother?”

Azriel’s mind was blank with rage. He hadn’t even realized he had lunged at the other male until the two of them tumbled out the window, wings beating furiously as they fought in the air. “You are a dirty bastard, Rhysand!” Azriel bellowed, the wind whipping between the two of them wickedly.

“You can do better than a little no-one fae!” Rhys yelled back, laughter on his lips.

“I won’t let you treat her like this!” Azriel went for him again, missing by an inch as Rhys dodged his grasp.

“I treat her wonderfully. She feels loved and happy, does she not? She’s certainly beautiful enough to be the wife of the High Lord, wouldn’t you agree?”

“You disgust me.”

“Ah, but do I? Would you not do anything to have her as your own? You understand the draw she has, the desire to taste her.”

One of Azriel’s shadows hit Rhys square in the chest, causing him to fall back in the air. “You don’t deserve her.”

Rhys flew back up, annoyed at this argument. “Are you going to be the one to break her heart? Tell her i’m just playing her? You can’t deny her happiness is real, you know I will keep it that way. Do you really want to destroy her perfect little world?”

Azriel paused, the words ringing true. There was no way to prove how Rhys was acting now, especially not when she believed him to handpick the stars in the sky for her. She was in love with his brother, and he couldn’t stop it. “You think you could love her one day?” His question came out hoarse, emotion taking over him.

Rhys looked almost pityingly at his brother, flying back to land on the window in his office. “I could,” he said honestly. “What may have started as a way to get under your skin is turning into something true. She really is quite amazing, Az.” His voice was softer now, a vulnerability shining through. Azriel hovered in front of his brother, a pang in his heart at his words.

“Promise to make her happy. Don’t ever let her find out why you went after her in the first place.” Azriel said, crossing his arms. If his brother was going to act in this way, the least he could do was try to preserve her peace.

“I will. Always. Don’t ruin this for her, Azriel. I need a strong female behind me, but also one who respects and listens to me. She’s proven to be that. She’s perfect for what I need. Letting her become unhappy would destroy what i’ve created.” Rhys said, leaning back on the window frame.

Azriel nodded, still uncertain about this situation. “I will be close by if she needs me.” He said, a threat to his words.

Rhys gave him that horrible wicked smile, a tease in his eyes. “She won’t. She will be too busy screaming my name whenever you’re around.”

Azriel shook his head, forcing himself out of the memory. He was a damn fool for letting Rhysand manipulate him like that all those years ago. He had still believed he wasn’t worth anything back then, that no one would ever love him. It was only rather recently he had begun to think otherwise. He was ashamed of his past self, regret flowing through him. He wished he could go back in time and take her far, far away from this court.

Maybe it wasn’t too late for that.

***

Reader POV

You laid awake that night, staring at the high ceilings of your room. The shadow Azriel kept with you floated about, twirling delicately through the air. You felt a crushing sadness, the truth about everything taking over you. You hated how much you missed Rhys. He was always so in tune with your emotions, knowing the exact perfect thing to say in any situation.

You couldn’t help but wonder if that was all part of his horrible game.

The tears slid down your face, silent and full of pain. You had never imagined a life without him. To you, Rhysand had been your everything. He was your husband, your High Lord, the joy of your life. You two had been discussing children before he was taken Under the Mountain, ready to take that next step together. You couldn’t tell if you were sad or happy that your attempts hadn’t yet succeeded by the time he was gone.

The little shadow came down, sliding across your damp cheeks. You knew it was alerting Azriel, letting him know something was wrong. You didn’t have the energy to wave it away. You were drained, tired. Your anger overshadowed your pain most of the time, but when night came the ache in your chest made itself known. You felt as if your heart was ripping itself in two, screaming at the hurt of it all.

Your bedroom door burst open, Azriel rushing to your side. You didn’t even move to look at him, having no will to do so. He silently slid into the bed with you, wrapping his arms and wings around you. He kissed your hair, a murmur of “I’m so sorry” falling from his lips. His embrace reminded you of how it used to be, before you got tangled up with the High Lord. The two of you used to fall asleep close together nearly every night, finding a comfort in each other you hadn’t had before.

You began to drift off at his soothing presence, tears slowing. The thought you’d been having too often lately circled your mind, leading you into sleep. You wanted to ignore it, the implications it held too frightening for you to deal with right now. Had you overlooked what had been right in front of you this whole time?

***

Ahhhh I love this chapter!!! Please let me know what you think <3. Thank you for all your love and support on this story, it means so much that so many of you wait for each chapter to come out !!

Taglist: @amara-moonlight @tothestarsandwhateverend @onlyangellh @hnyclover @greenapplesaucepi @just-a-social-casualty-1 1 @heyyitsnat21 @mirandasidefics @bubybubsters @mybestfriendmademe @thaynarajejheje @brujitafantomatico @justdreamstars @thisblogisaboutabook @lees-chaotic-brain

[myladysapphire]

My Lady Strong (VI)

Aemond had always been protective of his neice, obssessed even, insiting on keeping her sheltered, and purley his, he never let her stray far and following the incident at Driftmark, Aemma was rarley without Aemond as her shadow. How will the kind, sheltered girl fair in the dance of dragons?

word count: 3,100

CW: MDI 18+, toxic relationship, manipulation, mommy issues, bullying, co-dependancy issues, self harm, not beta read.

Fem!oc x dark!Aemond Targeryen

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part

disclamer:  i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and  fire characters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all characters are his except for my OC

A/N sorry its been so long! forgot wehat direction i was going in with this story so going off the few notes i had left about this chapter! might be a few changes ive made from the last few chapters, but hopefully it all makes sense! but this story is gonna get dark and sad!

Aemma had been pacing back and forth for the last hour, nerves clear on her face as her mother and brothers were set to arrive in only a days time.  She hadn’t spoken to her in what had felt like forever, and she had no idea on what too expect. She thought that perhaps she might have done something but thinking back on the countless letters she had written, she could not think of a single thing she could have possibly said. Perhaps taking Aemond’s side at Driftmark, or perhaps refusing to leave his side after the fact. 

She had made her complaint to Aemond, the morning after they had reconnected, he had simply laughed, “oh Aemma, do you really think your mother cares about you? She happily sent you of to wed me the second it was suggested.” He said as he brushed her hair for her, having dismissed her ladies so they could break their fast. “if she cared about you she would have demanded I got to Dragonstone, not you here, she simply wished to be rid of you.”

Aemma looked down, she refused to believe it, her mother had always preached how she was her favourite child, then again, after Driftmark her mother did just send her away, she would have visited her more or asked her to visit if it was true. “Really?” she asked tears in her eyes.

“oh of course” he smirked, “but do not worry dear, soon enough you shall be my wife and she will no longer have to even act as if she cared for you, and you will not have to care for her either.”

She shook her head, and looked up at him, meeting his smirk in the mirror “do you think she loves me still?”

“no” he replied instantly.

A tear fell from her eye “do you love me?” she near begged.

Aemond’s smirk widened, his eyes twinkling, “of course” she turned her head, and he instantly gripped her chin, “and you love me, don’t you?”

“no” she replied. His grip tightened slightly, “I do not know what it is to love Aemond, but perhaps…once we get to know each other more.”

He frowned. “We have known each other our who lives”

“Yes, but these past years we have been distant, I know nothing of you”.

“And whose fault is that” he said stepping away, “was it not for that bastard I would still have my eye! And you would love me!”

She stood up, following him, “how does-“he stopped her, turning around quickly to face her.                     

“Because it does!” he almost whined, “you were mine! And then you were handed to me on a silver platter and yet all you have done is whine about your mother and your stupid brothers!” he took a breath, allowing her an opportunity to speak.

“I begged to stay with you Aemond, I defended you and –“

“And you begged them to stay also!” she looked at him, she had never told him of the conversation with her mother.

“How do you know that?” she asked bewildered. “and what does that have to do with anything?”

“everything!” after what they did to me, to YOU! And you wanted them to stay” he shook his head, “I went to find you, I needed you and you were begging your mother to stay? Do you think I could forgive you?”

“Aemond-“ she was crying now.

“these past years I have grow into the man I knew you wanted, not the silly little boy you grew up with, but the man you need, my mother has been nothing but a mother to you, and yet you still crave that whore and those bastards”

“I’m sorry Aemond. “she said, reaching for his hands, “your right, I am so sorry, I just wanted my muna, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” She caressed his hand, “but I didn’t want too lose you or her and yet I lost you both!” she whined, “I needed you too!” she cried, wrapping her arms around his waist.

She needed him. Aemond smiled, “goo. because I am all you will ever and have ever needed.” He said holding her to him, “your mother is here in formality over, and at the end of the week she will be nothing to you, I will be your everything, your husband, your protector, your Aemond.”

“And let me remind you sweet Aemma, that without me you would remain Lady strong, a princesses bastard. And yet you betrayed me, begged for our tormentors to stay and if that had happened do you think I would have been able to devote these past five years to becoming your protector, to become the man you desired?”

She shook her head.

“They were cruel to you, hated you. All because your mother favoured you, do you think they will have changed?”

She shook her head again, and started to think back, growing up all she had ever wanted was to marry Aemond, and have him be her protector and never have to see Jace and Luke again.

She had thought that after Driftmark she would never get that Aemond, he had changed the second that eye was taken from him. He became cold and cruel and there was even whispers he was mad.

“but-“she started to speak, a part of her felt like he had turned into them.

He had tormented her for years and now he seemed to be perfect for her. It didn’t make sense.

“But what?” he asked, suddenly moving closer to her.

“you have been cruel, ignoring me then you started to torment me, sending me the heads of Aemma’s roses, as if you were threatening me.”

He shook his head, “I don’t know what your talking about”

“yes you do!”

“no Aemma, your confused, I sent you Aemma’s roses, to show I was thinking of you , and I never cut there heads of” he laughed, “and I only ignored you as I felt so hurt by what you did”

“i- but you cut of-“ she shook her head, “I-I I’m so confused, Aemond I- perhaps I should ask Cassandra, she has a better memory than me –“

“no Aemma, your just misremembering, you’ve always had trouble with remembering things” he said, “and do you not trust me?” he said sounding sad.

she shook her head, “of course not- I, just I thought you hated me for whatever reason and now I must have thought your acts were of torment and not …love” she said unsure.

“it okay Aemma, I know you struggle and I know you have always had difficulties with things” he said softly, “I was hurt and scared you would hate me too, I should have been more upfront, it is all my fault” he said, pulling her into a hug, “I know you are sorry, and I am too”/

He wasn’t, he loved the look on her face when she opened the box of cut of Aemma’s rose heads, loved the way she was scared, but he also realised years of ignoring her had made him seem untrustworthy, and he feared he made a mistake, he had a new strategy to play. At first he wantec her to be scared and run to him for help, but it seems her ladies and beloved Cassandra had gotten in the way of that plan, and made him the villain.

He supposed he had to get them out of the way.

Since that conversation, Aemond had made sure she did not leave his side.

Saying how he missed her dearly, and realising how much he needed her and pushing her away had hurt him more than it hurt her.

She had felt so badly for him, and before he knew it they were back to their old habits, were she went he went, she would even ask him too choose all her clothes, even serve her dinner.

She forgot how simple life was with Aemond, how happy and easy he made her life.

And Aemond was loving it, he loved getting to control every detail about her, she would dress how he liked, believing it her choice to let him pick, she would follow him everywhere, meaning he no longer had to follow her.

The only problem was that her ladies maids were still in the way. They ere there when she woke, and dressed, giving question stares as he would enter her rooms, whispering in her ear about things Aemma would never reveal.

He wasn’t jealous just angry.

He had been hurt all those years ago and ignored her because he wanted to be better. Become the best possible Aemond, become her protector and a man who would never again loose his eyes to is silly little nephews, and someone who would never let them hurt Aemma again.

And it was blatantly obvious that his ignoring of her head made her annoyingly close to her little friends.

He had hidden letters from her mother the first year, then they came less and less, before stopping altogether. He would allow a few of Aemma’s letters to be sent, not before reading them himself. He wanted her too feel isolated, but that had failed, and now it would be too suspicious for Aemma to receive the letters her mother had sent over the years, especially as he had read them all and hated the love his sister had for her daughter, hated that no matter how hard he wanted to hide it, her mothers return would only pull them apart once more.

So he realised the game of isolation needed to change and to get ride of the Ladies he must earn their trust, so he wooed them, by sitting in at their gatherings and showing undivided devotion to Aemma, there was still the issue of Cassandra Baratheon. She despised him, and he here. She was brash and loud, and Aemma’s best friend. 

He wasn’t jealous, no, not at all. Not jealous of the way she effortless laughed at her jokes or talked to her without having the perplexed and wanted to please look in her eyes that’s she did with him.

He watched the bitterly as they chatted the day away. She seemed to light up around Cassandra, and he hated it.

“Are you nervous about you mother and brothers return?” Cassandra asked, sipping her tea.

“yes, especially my mother” she sighed, stirring her tea “I did receive a letter from my brothers this morning” she reviled, much to  Aemond’s surprise. He had ordered all letters addressed to Aemma be sent to him straight away, how this had escaped him – “I had waited in the ravenry for a reply for my letter, and one had just arrived when I got there.” She reviled, answering what Aemond was wondering.

“what did it say?” Cassandra and Aemond asked simultaneously.

“Luke and Jace were asking about how I am , and saying they were sorry if their actions in our youth  and wish for us to reconnect upon there return.” She replied.

“you will do no such thing” Aemond spoke, standing up.

“And why not?” Cassandra asked, clearly unhappy at Aemond.

“because of how they have always treated her!2

“oh please, they were children!” Cassandra spoke, now standing alongside Aemond, “ they have apologized and wish to know there sister, and from what Aemma has told me, I and my sisters have done far worse to each other than they did to her!”

Aemond scoffed, “please, they were bullies, they locked her in the black cells!”

“they- they what?” Cassandra asked, no looking towards Aemma.

“i- its true they did, but they have apologised incessantly since then.” Aemma said, trying to diffuse the situation, “they are my brothers, and they.. they said sorry”

“You still have nightmares Aemma” Aemond spoke, now moving back to his seat and taking her hands in his.

This perplexed Aemma she had never not once told Aemond of her dreams, especially of that night, he himself had always felt partly responsible for it, having taken so long to find her, and having left her alone that night. “what?” she asked, “I never told you about my dreams…”

Aemond flinched sightly, realising his mistake, and Cassandra herself took on an angry expression, “how do you know of those dreams Prince Aemond?” she asked, moving herself closer to Aemond and Aemma, as if to protect her.

“i- she is to be my wife, I only took a concern when the guards said she would often wake screaming.” He said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“but that still-“ Aemma started, slowly removing her hands from Aemond.

“don’t concern yourself too much Aemma I simply stood guard to ensure you did not try to harm  yourself.”

Aemma flinched, Aemond cant know about that, no one does. Not even her maids. She had always kept her arms covered, he cant know.

Her eyes betrayed her, showing a scared expression, an expression both Aemond and Cassandra took to be scared about hurting herself.

“I – I” she stuttered, “I don’t know what you-“

“don’t worry Aemma, nothing bad happened, and your brothers wont get anywhere near you” Aemond spoke.

Aemma nodded, trying to mask her own fear of Aemond potentially knowing her secret to make it look like she feared her brothers.

Her parents were set to arrive on the morrow, and All Aemma could do was twist and turn. Dreams had been plaguing her. Ever since the black cells she has been getting premonitions, dreams of what was to come, dreams that have come true.

She supposed she was lucky, Helenas dreams caused her to speak in riddles, some even called her mad. When in truth Aemma was the one who was mad. She scratched and bleed as she dreamed, tearing at the skin on her arm. Her hands felt like they were soaked in blood, her nails turned red, as she scratched and teared. She dreamt of herself, she was married with children, but one was dead. She killed him. She must have, blood was on her hands, on her dress her face. Her other children cowered in the corner, flinching away from her.

“a son for a son!” she woke up gasping, the words ringing in her head.

Her bed sheets were stained in her blood, her arms scarred. The wounds from her last dream only just having healed.

She couldn’t help it, it was if her only escaped from her dreams was to harm herself. Perhaps it had been the three years of isolation she had felt so alone, where the dreams controlled her. She would send days and days tuck in the loop. Until one day her mother wrote to her of needing alliances and how her and Alicent had chosen her ladies. Her ladies had saved her, Cassandra specifically. She would wake her up, help her dress, and for once Aemma had a reason to escape her dreams. But then Aemond’s neglect and ignorance of her had turned cruel, calling her “my lady strong”, a name he had only just stopped calling her.

But something haunted her as she paced around her chambers, Aemond’s torment had put a stop to her dreams, the dreams were there was no dancing dragons, or no blood-soaked hands and gowns. Instead the dreams were of dragon snapping dragons neck, storm soaked nights and screams. And then since this week her nightmares have been full of crying, begging and blood. And now this.

It seemed no matter what her life would be full of tears and screams, and death.

“Aemma.” Cassandra said, walking into her chambers, alongside the rest of her ladies, Cerci Lannister, Cerelle Costayne, Margaret Fossway and Rosia Tyrell.

She had not slept since being awoken from her dreams, she had bathed and dressed, applied ointment to her scares, and had proceeded to pace her rooms nonstop.

She was worried, her mother would be here soon, and she had no ideas what she would be like.

She knew nothing of her, and she feared her mother may no longer love her. And well she was nervous about her wedding, and the wedding night. Aemond and Alicent had told her about it in the past week, and she was scared. And she just needed her Muna.

“how are you feeling?” Cersi asked.

“I am nervous” she admitted.

“of course, you will be wed on the morrow, you are bound to be nervous” Margaret added.

“well i-“

“but think, you will get to marry someone who loves you!” Rosia gushed.

“yes you are so lucky!” Cerelle complained, she had received news yesterday of her father engaging her to some man who had been married twice before and she had never met.

“oh Cerelle, he’s old hell probably die before you can wed.” Aemma said nonchalantly, and Cassandra laughed as she watched Aemma gasp at her own words. “sorry, just today the first time I will see my mother and brothers in years. I’m nervous”

Cassandra grabbed her hand, caressing home gently, “it’ll be okay, I’m sure.” She then looked to Cerelle “ and Aemma’s right, he’s what eight and seventy, he could croak at nay moment!” they all laughed, and for the first time that day Aemma’s mind was finally taken of what was to come.

She stood in the courtyard wating for their arrival, alongside her stood alone, Alicent having to have leave only moments ago to take care of something. She had done all her wedding planning with Alicent, she had comforted her when she cried over her mothers lack of care over her wedding, and visiting her despite her countless letters over the years. But Alicent seemed nervous, as if she was waiting for something or scared of something, and even more so when she had to leave.

After a few moments a carriage finally arrived in the courtyard, and her mother was the first to step out.

She wanted to run to her, to hug her and tell her how she had missed her. But her dream, it rang in her head.

“A son for a son” that all she could hear, and a voice in her head told her it was her mother’s fault, that her mother would force her to kill her son. She didn’t want to think it, but her mothers face, her blood soaked hands and a headless child was all she could see.

She made her way slowly walking down the steps the greet them.

“muña, lēkia” she greeted, a smile gracing her face. “welcome home”

next part

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to be added to Taglist

[qu1cks1lversb1tch]

Being their older sibling would include | HC's

Includes: Charlie, Angel Dust, Alastor

Warnings: super supportive sibling energy, Valentino, murder/accessory to murder, implied abuse in Alastor's part (mentions of his father)

Let me know if anyone would want a part two and what characters — I didn't know who else to do

Charlie

Being the one who is more involved with Hell's politics and inner workings — especially after Lilith vanished without a word, essentially making you the public face of the Morningstar family.

Being the one to support Charlie's dream, regardless of what everyone else thought.

Being the protective, untrusting, and sometimes overbearing/overprotective one — but only because you love Charlie and don't want anyone to take advantage of her kindness and naivete more than they already have.

Being the one to put your foot down when your father waltzed in, talking about how sinners were all horrible and undeserving of redemption. Some were undeserving. . . But others were just human souls who needed a little guidance — a little motivation. Proof things could get better.

Being the one she went to for any problem that she knew Vaggie couldn't help with.

Being the one to make her laugh the most when she was feeling down.

Being the one she takes to Heaven with her (along with Vaggie).

Being the one that Heaven's didn't want to piss off — you were every bit your parents and more. That scared them.

Being the voice of reason when it came to fighting back.

Being the one to stand with your little sister, shoulder to shoulder as you fought alongside her to help preserve a dream that she worked so hard for.

Being the one to pick up all the pieces that your father, Vaggie, and the residents couldn't.

Being the one to play dress up with her and have tea parties when she was little.

Being the one to teach her how to dance.

Being the one to sing her back to sleep during a particularly bad storm when she was much younger.

Being the one that boyfriends and girlfriends sought to appease.

Angel Dust

Being the oldest out of all the children and the only one to survive long enough to see the age of forty.

Being the one who mourned him the most.

Being the one to take care of minor injuries when he was a careless kid.

Being the only one to give him a choice.

Being the one to kill your father twice, for all the horrible things he put you and your younger siblings through.

Being the only family member to keep in contact once you made it to Hell.

Being the one who hated Valentino the most. You saw him and just knew he was no good. You had no idea what your baby brother saw in him.

Being the one who urged him to take up the offer Charlie gave him. He deserved so much more than what his life and afterlife gave him.

Being the one to go with him, just to make the moving transition easier.

Being the fiercely protective one — you'd be double damned if anyone thought they'd hurt your brother and get away with it.

Being the one to comfort him after a long day. He claimed he didn't need it, but the way he always melted in your arms said otherwise. He was Anthony with you, not Angel Dust.

Being the one who sent untraceable, anonymous death threats to Valentino that exploded in his face with glitter bombs when he opened them.

Being the first one to notice the positive change in your baby brother and knowing it had something to do with that grumpy bartender that he drunkenly went on about one night.

Being the one to stand by his side. Always.

Alastor

Being the most sane sibling (not by much), but least forgiving.

Being the one to protect him from your father the best you could.

Being the one to tell him stories that your maman told you as a child — ranging all the way from fantasy and myths, all the way to true tales that had been passed down from generation to generation.

Being the one to dispose of your father's body when Alastor finally snapped and killed him. You didn't know what you were doing, but you worked quickly in hopes that the mess would be gone before your maman woke up. It was. . . But it began a cycle.

Being the one to take over household chores after the mysterious disappearance of your father, which meant you were the one to clean the bloodstains out of Alastor's clothes.

Being the one to convince him to take it down a notch — you didn't mind him taking out his father's sleazy friends, but at the rate he was going, he was going to get caught, and you only had so much time on your hands to hide evidence and remove those hard stains.

Being the first to die of an unknown sickness, not even a decade after your maman died of old age.

Being the one to greet Alastor in Hell.

Being the one to rise to power beside him — just two siblings who thrived on the screams of those who had done far worse things than kill a dozen or so people and hide the bodies.

Being the only one aside from your mother that could keep him in check.

Being the only other one he'd hate to disappoint. He was insane, yes, but if you were mad at your brother for anything serious, his smiling facade cracked.

Being the one to look for him after the battle and find him in a state of disarray that reminded you all too much of the childhood you endured for eight years before his birth.

Being the one to bring him back from the edge. Some days you reminded him too much of your mother, but other days it was comforting to hear a voice similar to hers.

Being the one to know who has his soul, but being sworn to secrecy. . . Not that you'd tell anyone anyway. It wasn't your business to tell.