#dark imagine

[underhousearrestblog]

Shameless | A.T.

(summary) you’re tipsy and accidentally mistake Aemond for Aegon... Aemond doesn’t mind at all...

(warnings) non-con due to Aemond pretending to be a different person and not securing your consent (reader, although drunk, “consents” to Aegon, not Aemond), a bit dark, marriage-trapping someone

(warnings) if swear words offend you, we might have a problem here...

(pairings) Aemond Targaryen x reader (main; romantic), Aegon Targaryen x reader (platonic; fuck-buddy vibes)

(genre) room-temperature smut, one-sided pining

(reminder) Y/N – your name

(word count) 5.1k

(also) reader is Rhaenyra’s child... so Aemond’s niece...

(also) DRUNK CONSENT IS NOT CONSENT, FOLKS. THIS IS DARK FICTION SO BEWARE!

HAPPY READING!

Stupid fucking loser, Aemond’s hand clenched into a fist under the table. Take your hand off before I break it off!

Right in front of him, right across the table, Aegon had you smiling at him affectionately. His right hand was resting casually on the back of your chair, dangerously close to your neck. From Aemond’s place, he could see his brother’s fingers lightly stroking strands of your hair.

You had leaned in closer towards Aegon, as he half-drunk told you something you seemed to be way too interested.

Bullshit, Aemond thought to himself, that loser couldn’t string along an interesting story to save his life...

You just wanted to fuck him.

Was it better that you actually didn’t find his brother interesting or funny, that you just appeased him to get him into your bed? Was it worse that you wanted to sleep with the bastard?

Aemond’s eye narrowed as he tried to find your motivation for this absurdity. There was no way Aegon had rumors going around about him being good in bed. He was known to be a sloppy, drunk, selfish fuck who wouldn’t give two shits about your pleasure. His brother had no charm... Were you trying to make him fall in love with you? Make him marry you?

That had to be it. There was no other logical explanation. No way you craved some drunk when there were men begging on their knees for you attention, men begging on their knees for you to pick them and allow them the pleasure of your company.

He would.

Aemond.

He would beg you on his knees to allow showing you all the ways he wanted to worship you.

But you didn’t see him. Ever since your mother, Rhaenyra, had brought and left you here, you hadn’t even looked at him twice. Not when the great Aegon “Cant’t-Fight-For-Shit” Targaryen was standing right beside him.

After his mother had introduced you to everybody, Aemond had already taken a step forward to introduced himself separately when his stupid, good-for-nothing brother had thrown out a half-conscious joke about him teaching you to drink ‘cause that’s all he’s good at. You laughed. Aegon was pleased and had given you a rare smile. Nobody else mattered, and Aemond had stepped back, watching Aegon snatching your attention.

Somehow both of you got along. It was as bewildering as it was annoying. His mother was very much pleased, and Aegon seemed to be more... neutral.

Was it wrong for Aemond to be okay with his brother falling back into bad habits and addiction if that meant that you no longer spend any time with him?

He looked away from both of you, unable to watch any longer without launching  any utensil available at his brother’s head. Accidentally meeting his mother’s eyes, Aemond realized he’s given too much away and turned his attention back to dinner.

Everyone seemed to pleased at this god-forsaken dinner table. Greens and Blacks didn’t get along too well but with the king demanding peace and two members of Greens and Blacks were practically on each other at all times, something similar to an alliance had formed for this evening.

Once the music started and his stupid nephew had asked his sister to dance, Aemond noticed Aegon flicking his eyes towards the dance floor more than once.

Don’t even dream about it, fucker, Aemond wanted to scream at him.

He was drunk. What the hell was he thinking? He couldn’t take two steps without falling flat on his face! What kind of dancer would his brother make tonight?

Aemond moved almost on a whim once he saw Aegon getting up. Due to his brother being heavily intoxicated, Aemond was able to cross the room in the time period it took for Aegon to get up.

You looked up from where you where sitting and then your eyes slid down to Aemond’s extended hand. You swallowed, watching the younger brother towering over you with such intensity. You were also quite tipsy, although not as much as your companion.

In your intoxicated state you hadn’t noticed how everyone who still sat at the table had stopped talking and had turned their whole attention towards the end of the table where you sat. Alicent looked almost scared as if she knew exactly how violently Aemond had pictured dealing with Aegon. Your father looked vaguely entertained. Your mother seemed a bit surprised.

- Are you sure your high education covered dancing, brother? – Aegon who had also stood up, no doubt to ask you to join him on the dance floor, softly laughed at his brother. – You know, you can’t learn that from b-

- Shut up, - Aemond spoke to Aegon but his eyes didn’t leave yours. – A dance, my lady?

You put your glass down and placed your hand in his warm one that completely engulfed yours. Aemond’s fingers lightly tingled wherever your skin touched his. Aegon sat back down and everyone – either bored or out of politeness – returned to their boring discussions.

You were more drunk than you thought as you miscalculated your steps and ended up almost running into Aemond’s chest.

- Sorry, - you murmured, backing up. – I don’t think I’m gonna a good dance partner tonight, Aemond.

Aemond.

Not lord Targaryen.

Not prince Aemond.

Whenever you were distracted or tipsy, you almost always called him by his name. At those rare moments he could imagine replacing his brother as your companion and friend. You never called him by a title.

His other hand, the one not holding yours, reached to steady you by your bicep. He easily towered over your height and when you looked up, he decided that that right there is the sight he’d cherish to see every day for the rest of his life.

- It’s fine, - he lead you towards where Jacaerys and Helaena already danced. – I’ll lead.

The moment you started dancing, Aemond realized exactly why this was such a bad idea. Once one of his hands went to rest on the small of your back and the other grasped your hand, he noticed how close you stood. But that wasn’t all because you were also drunk and by proxy – forgot to give enough space.

Your left hand reached under Aemond’s arm, up his back and rested on the back of his shoulder. In your drunken stupor, you couldn’t keep yourself up steady so your lightly pressed your face against his shoulder and let him lead.

Aemond’s breath hitched in his throat. You were so, so close. He only had to lean down a little bit and he could place a kiss directly on the top of your head.

- You smell so good, - you quietly giggled, sucking in a deep breath, burying your face in his shirt.

So quietly that for a second the prince thought he might’ve imagined it.

Was this how you would’ve danced with Aegon, had he gotten a chance to ask you? Would you say those same words to him?

Not unless you liked the mix of wine and sweat.

For a moment Aemond’s blood froze in his veins. Did you think he was Aegon? You were drunk enough to mistake your mother for your father.

- Who am I? – Aemond threaded carefully. – Can you say my name, sweetheart?

You looked up with a puzzled expression but not an unconscious one. As your brows furrowed, you tried to pull your hand back from Aemond’s hand but he snapped his fingers shut around it.

- What?

- Do you remember my name, Y/N? – he whispered softly.

You stared for a moment longer before bursting out laughing. It was Aemond’s turn to look bewildered.

- I’m not that drunk, prince Aemond, - you proclaimed, leaning back against him. – Everything’s just spinning and blurring.

Aemond exhaled in relief. Looking over your head, his eyes found Aegon’s who was still still nursing a glass of wine. Once their eyes met, Aemond couldn’t help but look smug.

Watch me, brother, he wanted to laugh in Aegon’s face. Watch me steal her and keep her all to myself.

Aegon either was too drunk or simply didn’t care.

What an idiot...

***

As the dinner was wrapping up and most of the family had already left, you stood up too. Your mother and father had retired early, saying that the babe could come any day and they needed all the rest they could get. Both your brothers were still at the table, so was Helaena and Aegon.

At least you thought that was Aegon.

He was watching you from his seat, as you lightly stumbled on your feet and knocked over an empty glass.

Had you been sober, you would’ve noticed that the blonde prince sitting in front of you was far too calm and stiff to be your drinking companion.

- Shall I escort you, sister? – your oldest brother offered.

You shook your head. Last thing you wanted was to fuck up his chance with Helaena after he spend the whole ride here gushing over her.

And you were prideful enough not to agree to be escorted to your room by the brother half your age who probably was too young to even see his sister in this state.

In the state you were in – everything blurring together and your body barely holding you upright – you didn’t notice the young Targaryen prince’s eyes never leaving your form for a second.

You stumbled into the hallway and the strong burst of clear air coming from the open windows gave a little bit of restart to your brain. You leaned against the wall and greedily inhaled the pleasant evening air, all the while trying not to vomit.

Hangover’s gonna be a bitch tomorrow...

- Shall I help you to your room? – a voice behind you made you jump.

- No, Jace, I’m... – your started but once the person talking entered your very limited peripheral vision, you quickly correct yourself. – Oh, it’s just you.

Aemond tilted his head, watching your unfocused gaze run all over his body. He hated when ladies of the court did that, it made him feel insecure. However, he had no problem with you checking him out so thoroughly.

- How are you okay, Aegon? – you half-laughed, lightly punching Aemond’s side. – You drank more than me!

Aemond felt freezing cold seeping into his bones. You checked him out because... you thought he was Aegon? You laughed and smiled because you mistook him for his brother?

Even now when his brother was nowhere in sight, even now he could feel Aegon’s amusement dancing around the empty hallway.

Still no chance, brother?

I’m not even in the same room, and she still chooses me? Damn.

Aemond felt a deep need to go find his drunk, undoubtedly passed out brother and threaten, plead, beg him to never speak to you again. Maybe then he could have a chance to be looked at, to be seen by you.

Everything suddenly flipped before your eyes and you felt yourself lose balance but before you could hit the ground, you felt yourself being lifted up by two strong arms and being held close to a man’s chest. You head lulled to the side and fell into the croak of Aemond’s neck.

Your warm breath tickled his skin and your messed up hair stuck to his skin, as Aemond began walking.

You weighed nothing in his arms, and the young prince narrowed his eyes. Had you even eaten anything at dinner? Or were you just drinking?

Fucking Aegon.

Aemond felt even more bitterness seep into his heart. Aegon truly didn’t care.

I would, he decided. I would make sure you are fed, warm, happy, healthy.

- Just take me to your room, - you muttered under your breath.

Aemond sucked in a breath and his heart skipped a beat only until he realized who you thought you were talking to. His good-for-nothing brother. Fucker was not even here and was still ruining everything.

- Over my dead body, - Aemond threw out and began the long walk to your own quarters.

Once he had you in your room, he carefully placed you down on your bed and grabbed a blanket to cover you. You tried to shrug it off but he knew that you’d be cold once you sobered up. He brushed few loose strands away from you eyes and bent down to kiss you.

A forehead kiss wouldn’t hurt anyone...

However, the closer he got to your half-conscious form, the more his eyes strayed to your lips. He towered over your sleeping form and then suddenly, before he could talk himself out of it, leaned in closer and pressed a kiss against your lips.

Heaven tasted like a mix of you and wine.

He closed his eyes, taking it all in. Your lips were soft and made to be kissed by him. He wanted to feel them on his face, on his neck, down his chest, around his dick.

- What are you doing? – your eyes were wide open, and Aemond immediately straightened up.

Aemond cursed himself for being foolish enough to let his temptations and greed take over for even a second. He stood completely still, hands behind his back shaking a little.

- I-I’m sorry, - his voice cracked, imagining that he’d ruined everything. – I didn’t mean-

He couldn’t finish though because in the next moment you had already risen to your feet – still obviously intoxicated but more stable due to the fresh air – and crossed the short distance between you two. With concern Aemond regarded your hooded and still very much unfocused gaze, as you rose to your tiptoes.

Your right hand slid into his blonde hair and tugged. Aemond felt himself getting harder – if that was possible – as your lips touched his neck. You kissed his skin lighty before biting him.

Aemond’s hands went to hold your waist, as he felt himsef lose more and more in your touch, in your taste, in your presence.

- You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this, - your whispered, licking a hickey you’ve just given him before looking up into his eyes. – But you never seemed interested...

You pushed him against the wall and Aemond’s hold on you tightened.

- You’re so cold all the time... – you mumbled to yourself, as you started unbuttoning his shirt. – Only nice to me when you need something...

Aegon’s a fucking bastard, Aemond thought but secretly enjoyed that both of you weren’t as close as it had seemed from afar.

He desperately waited for some morals to kick in. Was he really okay with you thinking he was his brother? Was he really that desperate to be with you, sleep with you, that he would be okay to be called by his brother’s name?

An answer came as soon as you placed an innocent, chaste kiss on his chest.

He turned you around so that now you were the one against the wall. His mouth practically attached yours and one of his hands slid into your hair, pulling your head back so he could kiss your neck. When you moaned, he felt drunk and delirious.

And triumphant.

Fuck Aegon and fuck your feelings for him. He was gonna destroy every single thing you felt for his brother...

- Aegon, - you moaned.

Aemond gathered your wrists in one of his hands and pinned them above your head.

- Don’t say my name, - he begged more than commanded. – Not tonight...

He gave you a few hickeys on your neck and breasts. He’ll enjoy you seeing them in shock in the morning. You tugged on your wrists to be released but Aemond only held them tighter.

- I fucking love this, - you whispered.

- You won’t tomorrow, - he whispered, putting his free hand on the nape of your neck before kissing you softly. – But we’ll work it out.

When you looked up at him, he thought your eyes looked clearer and gaze was less hooked. For a second, he thought you might’ve regained enough sobriety to recognize him but you only pulled your wrists free, put your hands on his naked chest and pushed him into your bed.

Climbing on his lap, you were the one who initiated kiss this time. The cold rings on your fingers touched Aemond’s skin, as you cupped his face. You kissed passionately and breathlessly, and Aemond hated that Aegon had probably felt the same kisses at some point.

Doesn’t matter, he thought to himself. You’re mine now.

He quickly flipped you over and pushed the unbuttoned bodice of your dress down to your hips. You moaned louder as his lips found closed around one of your nipples. Your hands went into his hair once again but this time he pinned your wrists against the bed.

- What do you want? – he asked, looking up at you. – Tell me what you want.

Your lips looked bruised and thoroughly kissed. As they should look. Every day for the rest of your life...

- I want, - you panted, as Aemond’s long fingers brushed against your lower lips, losing your train of thought. – I...

Aemond chuckled darkly, detaching himself from your chest.

His useless brother could never...

Would never.

- Please, fuck me, - you begged. – Please, fuck me, Aemond.

He completely froze above you. He didn’t dare to breathe. Was his mind playing tricks on him? Has he gone completely mad in the short time he spent with you?

- What did you just call me? – he asked, voice dangerously low. – What did-

Even in your drunken stupor, you had attitude. You dared to roll your eyes – no joke – into the back of your skull out of sheer annoyance.

- I’m sorry, Aegon, - you stressed his brother’s name with frustration. – You know I mess both of your names when drunk...

Aemond still stood himself still. So... You’d done this before? You’d made out drunk with Aegon but called out his name? Aemond felt rush of electricity through his body. There were evenings when he would retire to his room without knowing that somewhere in the castle you were screaming out his name in pleasure?

- That’s fine, that’s fine, - he said neither to you nor himself. – It’s all fine.

So you weren’t as unaffected by him as he had thought? You did notice him? You’ve noticed him enough to fantasize about him while in between the sheets.

Aemond felt estatic.

- Just fuck me and be done with it, - you commanded Aegon – Aemond – and pulled him down for a kiss.

Aemond flipped you on your stomach and peppered kisses down your spine. You tried to turn back around but he stopped you with a hand on your back, pressing you down into the matress.

- Stay still, sweetheart, - he whispered against your back. – I want to take my time.

- You’re annoying, - you huffed but still let him do his “enjoying”.

Aemond was nervous. Mostly, because he had never done this with anyone since that first time Aegon had brought him to a brothel and forced him to lose his virginity.

Would you notice a difference?

You probably would sober but now – even though you were fairly coherent – now you would probably assume Aegon had mastered something new from one of his nightly visits.

An insecurity he’d never felt before gripped his heart.

What if he was not enough? Good enough, satisfying enough for you? He always had the need to excel at everything but now – with you – that need to be the best you’ve ever had was overwhelming.

- Stop teasing and fuck me already, - you whined, looking back at him.

He slowly slid inside your tight cunt and pulled your back against his chest so you were forced to practically sit back against him. He wrapped his hand around your neck and pressed his lips against your ear.

- Do I fuck better than him? – he whispered, as he roughly thrusted into you again and again. – Or does that drunk moron actually knows what he’s doing in bed?

Your eyes narrowed, as he the other arm of your lover wrapped around your naked waist and pressed you further into him, continuing to fuck you fast and rough. You felt him in your stomach...

For the first time...

Ever...

Aemond licked your earlobe before leaning down to suck a hickey on the side of your neck.

- Quite frankly, I don’t care, - he said darkly into your ear. – He’ll never fuck you again.

Something flashed in your memory. The scent. It was oddly familiar.

- He’ll never touch you again. I’ll make sure of it...

Your eyes widened as you recognized the scent of your dance partner earlier tonight...

But it was too late anyway.

Aemond roughly pushed you forward and you landed on your elbows, his fingers digging into your hips as he mounted you from behind. You had sobered up enough to recognize that this was not how Aegon fucked. He was never passionate about it. You couldn’t tell from just looking at him but Aegon actually preferred slower sex.

This was no Aegon.

Realization came too late because the moment Aemond’s fingers touched your clit, you felt your orgasm explode and dark dots started dancing across your vision. He let you ride out your orgasm before he pushed into you to the hilt and came deep inside you.

That was the last thing you felt before you lost consciousness.

***

Your eyes weren’t open yet but you heard voices. Whispering, angry voices just few feet away. Your body seemed to be on fire, every fiber and muscle ached. You tried to pull the blanket over your head, only to realize that all you had on you was a thin silk bed sheet.

That was new.

- You know what’s going to happen now, - an angry woman’s voice sounded somewhere close. – You were heard by dozens of servants. They know.

You opened your eyes and saw the queen standing by the door. Your head was pounding as you tried to see with whom she talked.

- I know, mother, - a familiar husky voice responded. – I’ll take care of it.

There was a pause.

- The right way.

As you dressed, you had disturbingly erotic flashbacks from last night. You were with Aegon. Surely. Blonde hair. Strong arms. No doubt there was no one else you would “accidentally” fuck while drunk.

It was no secret you and Aegon had somewhat of a fuck buddy relationship. You got drunk together. You slept together. You did stupid shit together. That was your thing because at the end of the day you didn’t love him. Didn’t even like him. Probably couldn’t tolerate him sober. Although, that theory had never been tested due to both of you never staying sober for long.

He was a nice toy, a nice placeholder, coincidentally beneficially looking a quite similar to a different man who often craved...

As you went down for breakfast, you were met with few servants giving you dirty looks. It would bother you if you weren’t so damn hungry.

Maybe they heard me and Aegon last night.

That had to be it.

Entering the dinner hall, you immediately noticed two things – your mother looked nervous and Aegon was nowhere to be found. Furrowing your brows, you went to sit down in your usual spot – next to Aegon’s seat that was empty this morning. Then you noticed that your spot at the table – where there usually would be dishes of food and glasses of drinks – was empty as well.

- Did we rearrange seats? – you half-laughed, looking at your family.

Your father gave you a look of pity, while your mother looked down. Even both of your brothers were silent.

Freaky.

The queen cleared her throat and silently tilted her head to the empty seat in front of her. In front of her and right beside prince Aemond who sat back in his seat with one hand on the table, clearly enjoying your confusion way too much.

Not wanting to create a scene and question these changes, you went to take your seat when Aemond suddenly stood up to pull back your chair for you. You stopped, surprised.

- My lady, - prince greeted, a smug look on his face – You look well rested this morning.

That was a weird statement and clearly not the truth but you brushed it off and sat down. Your eyes kept going to back to where Aegon was supposed to be.

If he was with you last night, where did he go? How did he make it back to his room drunk out of his mind?

- Where’s Aegon? – you asked no one in particular.

When no one answered you, you locked eyes with the man on your left.

He was already looking at you.

- He’s probably passed out somewhere, - Aemond explained softly. – I heard he had quite a night.

You wanted to throw out something witty or laugh but you had strong suspicion you and Aegon were heard last night so saying something right now might be innapropriate...

Where did he pass out though? When did he leave?

- With one of the servant girls...

It took your foggy brain a sizeable amount of time to process his whole sentence together. Aemond’s eyes didn’t leave your face, as you finally put the words together.

Passed out somewhere... quite a night... with one of the servant girls...

Wine on your lips got bitter aftertaste. It took you a lot of effort to swallow down a gulp. Your eyes met with the queen’s over the table. She looked at you. As a matter of fact, everyone at the table was.

You put the wine down and cleared your throat. Aegon... No, he had to be the one in your room last night...

Involuntarily a horrified realization washed over you.

The words were different...

He’ll never touch you again.

The touch was different.

The scent was different.

The man was different.

Because it was not the same man at all...

Your head snapped to your left where Aemond sat, quite satisfied with your reaction. You opened your mouth to say something but were interrupted by your mother.

- I think it’s best if we just get this over with, - she said. – The less time passes before the wedding, the less people will talk about this... incident.

You turned to your mother.

- What incident? – you asked.

It seemed like your mother had trouble putting it into decent words so she looked down again. It was your father, Daemon, who spoke up.

- People know about your... nightly endeavours, daughter, - he finished. – A wedding as soon as possible would help your reputation and serve as an alliance.

- Wedding with who? – you started to feel cold sweat cover your back. – Wedding with-

You couldn’t finish once you felt warm fingers touch the side of your neck. You knew it was Aemond before even turning your head. His fingers slowly stroked your skin and you felt a small ping of pain exactly where Aegon... Aegon had...

Where Aemond had left a hickey. Last night. When he fucked you.

- I think it’s for the best, wife, - he savored the title on his tongue. – We don’t want people saying that the man who took your virginity didn’t want your hand in marriage...

You straight up laughed, roughly batted his arm away from your neck and stood up to tower over him.

- If it’s the virginity that’s so important for marriage, I should probably marry Aegon! – you hit the table with your hand.

Aemond stood up too, and you had suspicion he only did that to gain height advantage. He leaned in closer, into your personal space, and whispered so only you would hear him:

- There is no proof of that, aside from suspicion from our families, - he chuckled darkly. – But there’s more than enough evidence for what we did last night.

You looked up at him, horrified how well he had thought everything through.

- I guess it’s a good thing both of you hid your relationship this well, - he smiled and continued talking to you in his low, husky voice. – And, unless you’re ready to publicly admit you lost your virginity to a married man, I’m afraid formally you lost it to me...

You slapped him across the face with all the strength you could muster after last night.

His head tilted to the side only a little bit. The bastard laughed.

- There’s that spirit from last night! – he said, looking at you thriumphantly. – Save it for our marriage bed, princess.

- Aemond, - the queen warned him.

In any other case, you would be horrified to have these things said to your in front of your family. Right now you didn’t care.

- You set me up! – you accused, and upon realizing that nothing will salvage your reputation in front of these people, added just as loudly. – I thought you were Aegon!

He saw a glimpse of irritation that you now recognized as familiar because that’s the look he always got whenever you spoke about his brother. Then it just as quickly disappeared and was exchanged for a smirk.

- And still you called for me, - he had lowered his voice again, as if not wanting to share too much of your intimacy with anyone. – You came for me. You screamed for me.

- Fuck you!

Glimpse of amusement flashed in his eye and only now somewhere in your brain it registered that he hadn’t worn the eye patch while fucking you. Glimpses of memories of the blue saphire solidified the fact that it was indeed Aemond who was with you last night.

- That you will too, - he promised darkly. – You’ll never fuck nobody else, wife. If you dare to attempt that, I’ll deliver his cock to your as a gift to look at while your husband fucks you...

You had no idea how much people around you had heard, and, frankly, didn’t care.

- It’s just you and I from now on, princess...

[peetasgirlfriendsblog]

dark! peeta x reader

summary: you and peeta have been friends since childhood. there's nothing going on between you guys... at least that's what you think

You and Peeta had known each other since childhood. Your moms were friends so you were friends, you know the whole deal. Years earlier you had had crushes on each other and even were each other’s first kiss. Time goes on though. You had gotten older and grown apart. Eventually your feelings and friendship had faded.

That was, until you had both transferred to the same college. Peeta moved East to a big city and you made for the South. Neither of you could cut it though. You both moved back home to attend community college. Being a little older than your other classmates and embarrassed by your failures, you clung to each other. All of a sudden it was “y/n and Peeta,” again. 

It felt good to have a platonic male friend, you thought often about how lucky you were. Sure, Peeta was cute but you were definitely over him. He wasn’t really your type. He was your boy next door bestie. The yin to your yang. One day you would piss off his girlfriend with your girl best friend antics but for now you had him all to yourself. You would never DATE Peeta though, and he felt the same…

…Or so you thought. Peeta was a loser. All he wanted was to be your loser boyfriend. He thought about you at all hours of everyday. Ever since your first kiss as young teenagers he has been completely yours. Truthly, Peeta flourished at his stuffy Ivy League college. The chance to stop obsessing over you was really doing him good. His parents were insanely proud of him, he was excelling in all his classes. As soon as he learned you were moving back home his act started. He withdrew from all his friends and his GPA dropped from a 3.8 to a 2.0. His parents were concerned.

  “Come back home and we’ll support you,” his father told him over the phone. Peeta fought hard to keep him from hearing the large grin that spread across his face.

He pretended to be surprised when he bumped into you on campus the day he began. He pretended that he wasn’t thinking about kissing you whenever you were together. But it was all an act. An act that was part of a plan that was not working fast enough for him. 

“Hey pretty boy!” you call to him from the other end of the hallway after you finished your classes for the day. 

He blushes and looks away. Even though he’s so shy he hopes that other people hear and mistake him for your boyfriend. He dutifully jogs to you and gazes at you with big eyes, “How were your classes today? Are we hanging out later?”

You giggle and nod, “Class was okay, I’m glad it's Friday. Lets go get fucked up. Are you gonna cook something for me?”

He talks to you on the walk to your car and gets in the passenger seat. Before you start driving you see him lick his lips from the corner of your eye. He seems nervous but you let it go. He had been seeming more secretly lately. That makes you feel so protective. He’s such a good, sad boy. He deserves to be happy. 

The two of you each take a hit from your bong in the car before stumbling up to your apartment. He takes his spot behind the stove while you lay across your couch and fumble with your phone. You complain to him about your recent Tinder hookup and he talks to you about the girl in his math class with huge tits. While he’s cooking you’re both knocking back drinks. You insisted on a shot to get started but now you have transitioned to mixed drinks while Peeta slowly sipped a couple beers.

He sets the plate down in front of you, “I made you a new drink too,” and he kisses your forehead. In your drunken haze you can’t bring yourself to be surprised. Whatever, I guess friends kiss each other sometimes? You thank him and dig in. You can’t help but notice him take a deep breath and jumpy shot. Well actually now you’re not noticing anything. Because the walls around you are swirling and your eyelids are getting heavy and you’re feeling a little scared and where is Peeta he needs to get you to a hospital or something.

“Peeta!” you let out and then you're gone.

When you wake up again your head is pounding and you’re feeling really confused.

“Peeta!” you exclaim, “What is going on?” As you struggle you realize you are tied. You were laid on your side with your hands bound behind your back. Your legs were bent behind you at the knee with your ankles bound. 

You were growing more frantic now, “Peeta! Peeta! Help me please!” You tried to get out of your ties but it was no help. Every move you made was forcing you into more uncomfortable positions. 

He came in through your door and suddenly you were aware you were in your room, “Oh crap I didn’t think you would wake up so soon.” Your eyes and mouth widened with realization and then he was kneeling next to your bed with his hand over your mouth. 

“Shhh, shhh,” He cooed while stroking your hair, his other hand stayed clamped firmly to your face. “It’s okay y/n, I’m right here.”

You were crying a little bit but your mind was still foggy, “Peeta what’s going on?” You noticed you were naked and started crying harder.

Peeta’s expression softened, “It’s okay baby, I’m here. I’m not going to hurt you.” His hand on your head caressed you down to the dip in your waist. “You’re so pretty,” he was so excited he was almost singing, “You’re so beautiful, I wish I didn’t have to do this, you're just so pretty.”

“Peeta you really don’t have to do this. Untie me and go home I will never tell anyone about this. It’ll all be fine, please just go home Peeta.”

He frowned and gave your ass a light swat that made you jump, “Can you stop with all that please? Just stop. This is going to be fun. You want me to do this.”

You shook your head, “No Peeta. I don’t. You’re my best friend, please don’t ruin everything.” Everything, of course, had been ruined. You were just saying anything you could to get him off you and out of your apartment.

“Enough!” He said sternly. “Now, I don’t want to hurt you. Please please please just let me have this.” His eyes went from dark to big and wide and pathetic.

You gulped, you were scared. Now you knew that he wasn’t your little Peeta. You became acutely aware of how much larger than you he was. His shirtless form was square and muscular. 

“Now…” Peeta hesitated, “kiss me.”

Silent tears spilled from your eyes. You were still tied in the same position, laying on your side. He shifted your face to the side as he tried to kiss you deeply. While you were going along with things, your heart was not in it. 

He slapped the side of your face. It wasn’t overly aggressive but it would get you to start listening to him. “Kiss me right or I'll hit you again.” You chose to kiss him like you would a boyfriend. He moaned and palmed his hard dick through his boxers.

“I’ve been saving myself for you, you know,” he muttered shyly. Both of his hands explored your naked body. At your chest he palmed your boobs and pinched both of your nipples. Gently as first but as you made small pained noises he became more rough. “I could’ve fucked that girl in my math but she wasn’t you…” As he trailed off he moved his hands lower. 

“I always knew it was going to be you,” and when he finished his sentence he quickly shoved his pointer finger inside of you. 

You shuddered at the feeling of the sudden penetration. That only encouraged him to keep going. He put another finger inside of you and began pumping at a rapid pace. You tried not to respond, something that became increasingly harder as he began to rub your clit with the wetness coming from your pussy. 

“You’re so pretty, I love you so much, I can’t wait to fuck you,” He was bent over you, fingering your pussy at a dizzying rate while desperately alternating between whispering into your ear and kissing the side of your face. 

“Peeta, no. Please don’t. It’s not too late, please just get off me.”

He rolled his eyes clearly annoyed, “I already told you we were done with all that. Now instead of making you feel good I’m going to do something you won’t like.” He huffed then moved to the other side of you. He positioned himself so that his knees were right next to your face. Though you couldn’t move too much you could look up at him slightly. 

He huffed and put the fingers he was using on you into his mouth, “You taste so good,” he smiled, “time to taste me.” He moved his boxers down a little bit and took his dick out of them. He was bigger than you thought he’d be, from the poor little boy act he was constantly doing. He tried to push it into your mouth but you kept your lips and teeth firmly closed. 

This clearly irked him really bad. “Fine.” He said shortly, “we can do this until you decide to behave.” He gave your cheek a hard smack with his erection. Then he gave you another, then another, then another. 

“Okay, fine!” You managed to get out. You opened your mouth wide in defeat. He took no time to slip his dick in as far as it could go. He groaned in delight and began fucking your throat. You could tell he had never done this before, his thrusts were sharp and aggressive. You choked and drooled all around him, that just turned him on more. 

“Oh you’re so good (y/n). You feel so good baby. Didn’t I tell you it wouldn’t be that bad? This is so good.” He was just saying anything at this point, completely overwhelmed at having the girl of his dreams to facefuck to his heart’s content. 

All of a sudden he was shoving his dick and balls all the way to the back of your throat. You sputtered and gagged while trying to get him off of you. He had you by the back of the head though and was holding you down so forcefully you had no hope of getting off. 

With you still held down he murmured cutely, “I’m sorry baby but you have to stop now or I’m going to cum. I really want to cum in your pussy so bad.” Finally he loosened his grip on you and you were able to free your head. You were sputtering and coughing like crazy, just trying to regain your breath. 

He kissed your messy mouth one more time and then crawled back behind you. He slipped his dick between your thighs and began moving back and forth. 

“You’re so wet for me baby, I knew you’d like sucking me off.”

“Peeta. I am so serious, please do not put it in me.”

“If I don’t put it in you,” he laughed sweetly and nuzzled your face, “then how would I cum inside of you?”

You let out an anguished cry as he shoved his dick inside of you. For a second he did not move, he was the happiest he had ever been. A blissful smile crossed his face and he thought about how lucky you both were right now. This image was starkly contrasted by you underneath him. You weren’t a virgin but Peeta was above average and absolutely stretching you out. You could feel the pain sear inside you and you found yourself wishing he would begin to move so maybe you could get some relief from the feeling. That thought fled your mind as soon as he began to thrust. As you might expect, because he was inexperienced, he started very hard and fast right away. He made up for it when he snaked his hands around to your front. One kneaded your nipple while the other one worked on your clit. The noises he was making were intoxicating. They almost made you forget the context of this scene. Still the occasional whimper was escaping out of you. You were really close. Because of his lack of expertise you were insanely close to cumming, only to have the feeling ripped out from under you. This happened multiple times. Finally, him rubbing your clit and fucking into you was enough to make you orgasm. The unintentional edging made it even more intense. You let out your loudest moan as he kept going. You could feel your pussy pulse hard around him. Evidently, he did too because his thrusts became sloppier and sloppier. You prayed he didn’t know what that meant.

“Did you just cum?” He asked lowly, “That’s so fucking sexy, you’re so fucking-” He didn’t even finish his sentence before he took your lips in his, biting you gently and then harder. His face twisted up tightly and let out loud, ragged breaths. His thrusts became more and more shallow. He buried his face in your neck and continued his hard breathing. You felt his dick get soft in you while he gave you a few more feeble pumps. When he finally pulled out of you you felt lots of his warm cum leak out of you. 

He moved back a bit to get a good look at your hole and how his cum leaked out of it. He resumed his place behind you and softly fingered it back inside of you. As the realization of everything that happened hit you you began to hyperventilate. 

“Don’t worry y/n,” he kissed you sweetly, “if we’re lucky then I just got you pregnant.”

You struggled against him as he wrapped himself around you. He fell asleep with the most satisfied smile.

[macadoodlewrites]

Nighttime Crawler- dark!Peter Parker imagine

Summary: Peter Parker’s girlfriend has broken up with him, but he can’t accept that. They were meant to be together forever, and he is going to make her see that, no matter the consequences. 

Warnings: smut, swearing, non-con, somnophilia, bondage, breeding kink

Main Masterlist

Word Count: 1,343

The first thing that I was aware of as I awoke was the pleasure in my core, the rapidly growing feeling slowly igniting like liquid heat through my body. The second was that even though I had just awoken, I was rocking my hips backwards and forwards against... something, but I didn’t know what. 

The room was dark, but I knew that I was in my bedroom. I couldn’t stop the movements, needing to create friction, letting the feeling in my core grow, higher and higher, and then... it broke, and I uttered out a cry into the night. My hips bucked against whatever it was that had just helped me to achieve my unexpected orgasm.

Then I felt it.

A hand on my stomach, holding my hips down as a tongue lapped away at my slit. I twitched at the ministrations as I came down from my orgasm, and as I did so, the panic started to set in. 

I had certainly fallen asleep alone, and in the haze of freshly waking up and being bought to orgasm all within thirty seconds, my mind hadn’t quite caught up to what was happening. 

I tried to sit up and realised that I couldn’t move my hands. Slowly I tilted my head back and froze as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. My hands were pinned to the headboard, held down by a white, stringy web. An extremely familiar web.

“Peter,” I whispered, and the movements between my legs stopped. I looked down, and utter fear set in as my ex-boyfriend lifted his head to look at me. His mouth was wet - with my juices - because of the orgasm that he had forced on me in my sleep. His eyes were bright.

“Hey, baby,” he said hoarsely. “I was hoping that you’d stay asleep for a little longer.”

Peter and I had been dating for two years, but we had broken up three months ago - well, I had broken up with him. Towards the end of our relationship, it had felt like I had been dating a ghost, and whenever he did find time to spend with me, he was moody or angry. He’d never hit me before, but he could be cruel when he wanted to be. I knew that he was Spider-Man, and understood that he had responsibilities, but after he had stood me up for our twelfth scheduled date, and blamed me for it somehow, I had had enough.

“What are you doing here?” I whispered and looked wildly around my bedroom for something that I could use to defend myself if I could get free of his damn webbing. My bedside tables were empty.

“I’ve missed you. Haven’t you missed me?”

“No, Peter,” I spat, trying to muster as much venom into my tone as possible. “You need to leave.”

Something in his eyes dimmed at my words, and chills ran over every part of my body. I realised that he must have removed my panties and sleep shorts, and my shirt was pushed up past my breasts. My nipples pebbled against the night air. 

“You don’t mean that, baby. Look how much fun we’re having,” Peter whispered, and leaned down, taking my hardened bud in his mouth. His teeth clamped around it, twisting it lightly, and I gasped, arching into him. “See, you know that you want me. You’ve missed me.”

“Peter,” I stuttered. “I will scream, I mean it.”

He released me from his teeth and looked up. His wavy brown hair was plastered to his forehead. “Oh, baby, you shouldn’t have said that,” he mumbled, and before I could turn my head, there was webbing over my mouth, leaving only enough room for me to breathe out of my nose. 

True panic started to set in. I started to struggle, tried to yank my arms down from the headboard, but they were stuck hard. I lifted my legs up, aiming my knees at his stomach, but he only sat back on his legs, moving out of the way. I only now realised that he was entirely naked, his erection standing hard, pressed against his stomach.

 His eyes ran down my naked body; I could practically feel his gaze like a touch on my skin, and I squirmed, trying to cover up my modesty by crossing my legs. 

“Don’t be like that,” Peter groaned, and he reached down, ripping my legs apart. Before I could cross them again, he was leaning forwards, legs on either side of me and holding my bottom half down. One hand cupped my breast whilst the other held my cheek as he aligned his body over mine. 

I tried to speak, to yell, to scream at him to leave me alone but any sound I did make fell on deaf ears. 

“You never should have broken up with me,” he said. His face hovered above mine, his eyes meeting my frightened ones. The love and innocence that I had once seen in their chocolate depths was gone, leaving behind only the violent and dark side that I had only seen on a few unfortunate occasions. “And now, I’m going to make sure you can never leave me.”

And then he was sliding inside of me, finding no resistance as I was already dripping wet thanks to the attentions of his mouth. He thrust himself up to his hilt and let out a groan that made me clench around him. I hadn’t been with anyone else since we had broken up, and despite my mind knowing how messed up this situation was, my body had not caught up yet. 

“You feel amazing, baby,” Peter uttered as he started to rock his hips, moving himself in and out of me. I could do nothing to stop him, nothing to stop the feel of him as he hit the perfect spot inside of me - the spot that only he knew how to find. My eyes rolled into the back of my head as he started to pick up his speed, moaning behind my web gag. Peter smirked, moving his hand that had been holding my breast and placing it next to the side of my head to keep himself up. “See, your body needs me. You need me. And I need you.”

As he started to quicken his movements even more, I unconsciously started to move with him, one of my legs coming up to wrap around his slim hips. He smiled, a feral, animalistic grin as I did so, but I was too focused on chasing my high to care. My skin was fire, my mind a melted mess as he thrust. I could feel myself clenching around him, my body wanting to take every ounce of pleasure that he could offer. His hand left my cheek and reached down between us, and started rubbing my clit, increasing the waves of pleasure coursing through me. The moans I was letting out under my gag were desperate, loud and I had never made them before for anyone else. Peter knew how to play my body like an instrument, tuning it to his rhythm.

His movements started to become sloppier, more frantic and I knew that he was close, and so was I. 

“Gonna fill you up with my seed,” he murmured. “I’m going to put a baby in you.” 

And then we both came together, exploding in a wave of pleasure. He thrust up into me as he finished, leaking all his cum inside of me.

As I came down from my high, I registered exactly what we had just done. What he had done. He wanted me to be pregnant with his child.

He was insane.

“Let’s go again, baby,” he said, planting a kiss on my cheek. The look in his eyes was more frightening than anything I had ever seen as he looked down at my stomach. “You’re going to look so beautiful, carrying our child.” He met my eyes. “And you’ll never be able to leave me again.”

[traumadumpwriter]

Heavy trigger warning for abuse, SA, assault, violence, self harm, mentions of r*pe

If you enjoy please don't forget to like, repost, comment. Give me feedback! | love to hear it!

I do update more frequently and there r already more chapters on my Wattpad @/slowlychanging!

Check out the other chapters by going to the Freedom tag on my page!

Freedom: A John Shelby Mini Fic

Chapter Nine: 4311 words

Hours passed until 'Go time' finally arrived and the adrenaline was just starting to kick in for Alice. She and Tommy were sat in silence as he drove her towards the agreed location - a seedy hotel just outside of town, ran by the Turks with a grand suite that Ergin often stayed in.

The window to his suite was visible from the street below; red velvet curtains pulled shut behind the thin glass panes. Alice was relieved that to see it was only on the second floor - knowing it to be her most likely route of escape incase things went wrong.

There were blinders surrounding the property, hidden in bushes and under cars, and the plan was clear in Alice's head. She could do this.

"We'll be an hour at most." Tommy spoke quietly, his eyes staring at a figure promptly coming towards the car.

After receiving strict instructions from him for the last hour, Alice found his voice to be extremely annoying and also looked to the figure, having nothing pleasant to say to Tommy.

A tanned man in a suit eventually came to the door on Alice's side, opening it with a smile and holding out his arm for her to take. She looked back at the Shelby one more time and he sent her a nod before sending her out into the cool night air, her hand placed gingerly on the arm of the small man.

Upon reaching the lobby, he stepped away from Alice with a polite nod and she suddenly found herself surrounded by an entourage of colourful characters; even the other women emitting an intimidating energy. They were all sat around a large table, decorated with intricate cloth, drinking from ornate glasses and laughing merrily. Alice looked around and tried to work out which one was Ergin, but had no luck - all of the men wearing similar, cream suits with no real distinction from each other.

A cough from the polite assistant quickly drew their eyes upwards and although they initially looked so unimpressed, the men's faces instantly softened upon seeing Alice - stood there like an innocent doe.

"The Shelby woman aye?" One of the men stood up with a grin and held out his hand for Alice to take, to which she quickly did. His accent was thick and he exuded suaveness. "Even more beautiful than I was told." He placed a kiss on her hand before pulling away and gesturing for her to follow him. "The boss's room is just up here, I show you."

"Thank you." She replied, being careful to smile and be polite but not too much - Tommy said it was important that she came across as unintelligent and innocent but still sexual and willing; a difficult mix to nail.

As she followed his path, she could feel all eyes on her; devouring the white, corseted dress and how it draped her frame perfectly. Polly had gotten her measurements and rushed into town to get it not long after the initial family gathering, worrying about Alice not looking the part. The older woman hated the plan and it had been even harder getting her approval than Tommy had originally anticipated, but she eventually caved in and agreed to help - citing the trickery and murder of Jones Buckley to be her main motivation. She owed it to Clara after all.

John on the other hand had disappeared from the house for hours, unable to handle the rage or betrayal his family had made him feel. Hidden, he watched Alice from a distance after she first tried on the dress; practicing her gun draw with Polly in the back street whilst the other Peaky boys rushed around preparing for potential bloodshed that night. The dress was absolutely beautiful on her and he struggled to watch, stepping away after a moment whilst painful thoughts started to ravage his brain again. There was no way he would ever forgive Tommy for asking this of her, and if she got truly hurt there was no way he'd ever forgive his family for allowing it.

Now he sat in tense silence, waiting for his signal to burst into the cellar and begin the raid, desperately praying that Alice would be okay.

Meanwhile, the woman was surprised by how pleasant the Turks had been to her, although she now suspected that things would change as the varnished door to the huge suite opened.

"Ah, Ms Buckley. You look incredible." Alice cringed at the name but nodded graciously to the man in front of her; his facial hair meticulously groomed and his suit black. "Do you mind if I call you that? Or are you a Shelby now?"

His tone was mocking and as Alice studied him, she realised he was one who'd been at the campsite that day - her face almost going red from anger and embarrassment.

"I'm my own woman now, you can just call me Alice." She answered with a sultry tone, eyeing his body in a way to suggest she didn't care if he eyed hers - even though she really just wanted to punch the man.

"And your name is?"

He chuckled slightly, staring her down as he closed the door behind her with a loud bang.

"My name is Maximus, Alice." He winked and patted her waist before leaning in to her ear. She expected an uncomfortable kiss to her neck, not the menacing tone that then quietly fell from his lips. "And I don't trust you one little bit.. I don't know how you escaped your husband, but I can have you sent back to him with the click my fingers, long before any of those Peaky brothers could find you. Don't forget that - whore." He almost spat that last word before suddenly standing straight again with a smile. "Now let's go see the boss, shall we?"

Alice didn't have time to even fully process his shocking words as another door was opened and they stepped deeper into the suite. She immediately spotted the red curtained window before she even looked at Ergin or his associate; both larger men, clad in expensive suits and golden jewellery. They had glasses of wine on the table in front of them, along with a pile of cards and an ashtray full of fat cigar butts. There was an empty chair opposite them and Maximus gestured for Alice to sit on it before leaving the room, leaving the three in silence for a moment.

Now she could ponder on the sinister man's words. She tried not to believe him, to keep her faith in the brothers, but a seed of doubt had now been planted and she was starting to accept that she would in fact have to sleep with these men if she wanted to stay alive - or atleast not get sent back to Jones. She'd rather die than have that happen.

Her panicked thoughts almost started to spiral until Ergin suddenly announced something to his friend in Turkish, instantly making her alert again. He cheered as he placed down a card - obviously winning whatever game they were playing - and then finally acknowledged the nervous woman in front of him.

"Sorry, I had to think about that move." He chuckled before meeting her eyes, his demeanour instantly softening. "Wow, look at this kadin, Aylin! Even more beautiful up close."

His friend, who Alice assumed to be named Aylin, laughed and nodded as he too studied the woman - staring as if she were an object and not a person.

"What you doing with a dog like John Shelby huh? You really just a whore like his brother says? I don't believe it." Ergin scoffed, once again sparking an anxious flame in Alice's belly that she had to quickly stamp out. "And what is this Maximus says about you being some kind of gypsy whore also? You are far too beautiful. I don't believe."

Alice was shocked by the seeming interest that Ergin had in her, taking a moment to collect herself before cooly replying "I thought I was here to dance with you, not be interrogated."

That seemed to surprise the men as they laughed again and exchanged few words in Turkish before Ergin leant forward and locked eyes with Alice again.

"I think you are an interesting woman.. The scars are something I like." Alice immediately went to pull down her sleeves as she realised they'd ridden up but he stopped her, his big hands enveloping hers with ease. "No no, don't cover, I said I like."

She didn't know how to respond to that. No one had ever liked her scars. A discussion about them wasn't what she had mentally prepared herself for. Instead, she was now thinking about how she would open the red curtain to send the signal without it seeming suspicious.

"It shows-" Ergin lit a cigar and placed it to his lips, drawing her attention again "-that you are not scared of pain. At least not pain inflicted by yourself. Am I right in this?"

Alice nodded slowly, unsure of where things could go from here. Her heart was racing and her handbag felt like a tonne weight placed gently on her thigh as she thought about the gun hidden inside.

"I want you to take off the dress and cut yourself right now then." His voice had a sudden firmness to it that paralleled to the friendly tone he'd shown a second prior.

With the four eager eyes on her, Alice knew she had no choice but to undress and started to slowly pull down her dress - the undergarments also being purchased in town by Polly that day. It was all white, a corset and frilly bra with matching garters and panties. Alice felt exposed but less exposed than she should've - so used to this objectifying treatment that it almost felt normal.

She took the small knife from Ergin's large, leathery hand and moved it to her thigh, taking a deep breath before making a quick red line. Even in such forced circumstances the pain felt a relief to her, visibly so as the two men let out another laugh and Ergin quickly snatched the knife back from her.

"Wow. You really like that huh? I didn't actually expect you to do it. Maybe you are a whore. Or maybe you are just crazy." He chuckled, earning an awkward forced chuckle back from Alice before his tone went serious again and he stood up. "Now dance with the knife. I want you to cut yourself with it as you dance. I expect all clothes to be gone by time the song is finished."

Alice's stomach dropped once she heard the record playing and felt the knife being placed in her hand again. Ergin was stood against the wall next to the phonograph - right by the window - whilst his friend remained leant into his cushioned seat, taking casual sips from his wine. Her eyes scanned the room desperately, looking for some kind of help, until she saw the mini bar in the corner.

"Do you not want me to make you a drink first? I thought I was meant to do that. I'm a barmaid you know." She fluttered her eyelashes and giggled, trying to act as if she was perfectly comfortable - a real whore like Tommy had obviously tried to sell her as.

"You can make any drink you want but know that you'll be testing it before either of us drink it. We're not stupid, Alice. Know this before you try anything told to you by Thomas Shelby."

"Fuck!" She started to mentally scream at herself as she realised nothing would go as smoothly as she'd hoped. She looked at the clock on the wall and saw it had only been seven minutes, she would have to think of a plan, fast.

As she sauntered over to the corner, Ergin called for Maximus to enter the room and she knew she'd have to pour the powder into the cups before the vulture like man was watching over her shoulder. So quickly, she pulled the vial from her bra and poured the white substance into each of the three glasses before covering it with whiskey - just as his thin frame reached her side.

She played it cool, pouring mixer into each of the drinks and stirring it with an ornate, metal spoon before she felt a hand gripping her thigh, instantly making her stop.

"You see? She is not a whore. Even one touch and she freezes up." Maximus scoffed. "I bet these drinks are poison too, go on, try one little lamb. Let's see."

Luckily, the drinks weren't too poison, just a tranquilliser, and Alice knew that if she just drank considerably less than them she would stand a better chance at staying awake than the men did. At least the older ones. They already seemed pretty drunk, after all.

"Fine, I'll show you. Maximus." She hissed his name and took a quick gulp from one of the glasses, earning an amused holler from the other two men.

"And the other one too-"

"Ah that is quite enough, my boy. A frightened whore does not perform as well as a comfortable whore. You will see this in a moment." Ergin cut him off with obvious authority, although there was enough care in his tone to imply a close bond between the two - perhaps uncle and nephew or father and son.

Either way, the younger man shut up immediately and stepped back, watching intently as Alice handed the drinks to the men. She now knew it was time to perform and stepped over to the phonograph before Ergin would stand up again to do so, earning a thankful laugh from his fat face as he and his friend lazily gawked at her.

As she gently placed the needle onto the record, she was careful to lean against the window and shift the curtain open - even it was only slightly - knowing that would be enough to let the boys below know the bosses were distracted.

That short feeling of relief was quickly replaced by the anxiety she'd been pushing down as the music started to play and she knew she couldn't postpone the dance any longer. Almost all forms of self harm had always been extremely appealing to Alice until this moment, awkwardly trying to cut her skin whilst remaining sexy and moving on beat. The men didn't care though, excited as she cut off her garters, corset and bra leaving only panties by time the song finished. Her mind had been miles away, not really seeing anything in the room as she danced, so when the trance ended with the music, she was relieved to notice their two cups empty although Maximus' remained full.

"Very nice, but remember what I said? All clothes off-" just as Ergin's instruction struck another deep pang of fear into Alice's chest, a loud bang followed by some shouts came from downstairs and all attention was averted.

"What the fuck was that? Max you go look!" Ergin demanded and the younger man immediately complied, shooting Alice a sharp glare before racing out of the room. From that point on everything moved fast. Too fast for her to properly comprehend.

All of a sudden, Alice felt a heavy force against her face and went flying to the floor, taking a second to realise that Ergin had hit her and was now bent down beside her. The woman could already feel the small amount of tranquilliser making her drowsy and so she knew that he would pass out any minute now - he had to - she just had to hold him off until one of the blinders arrived.

"What have you done, whore? What did you put in Aylin's drink? And what was that bang? You and the blinders have come up with some plan! What is it?" He grabbed her by her hair and pulled her face so that it was inches from his. Out the corner of her eye she could see that his friend had passed out so she just prayed that he would too - but he didn't.

"I said what have you done?" He repeated himself louder, spit flying from his mouth onto her face before he struck her again, once again sending her body to the floor.

She groaned in pain this time and struggled to move away as Ergin towered over her. There was blood all over her body already from the cuts she'd made, now some leaked from her mouth as her lip started to swell and she knew her face would be bruised the next day.

"You really think I drink a drink made by a Shelby whore?" He scoffed before kicking her hard in the ribs, earning another painful groan. "I may be fat and old. But I am not stupid."

From her position on the floor, Alice tried to take the knife off the table but Ergin quickly grabbed her hair again and dragged her around the room, to the chair she'd originally sat on. Memories of Jones flashed agonisingly through her brain every millisecond and she started to really hate Tommy for putting her up to this - yet hate herself more for agreeing to do it. John was right; she did love putting herself in danger. That was until the consequences of the danger hit her like they were right now.

"If he dies, I promise you will regret it very much." As Ergin spoke he placed bullets into a silver pistol, shaking and dropping some as he did.

Although his thick accent was still intimidating and booming, Alice realised he wasn't as powerful as he seemed and was in fact scared or at least nervous.

She looked around desperately for something to defend herself with, slowly regaining her hope; until she saw her handbag and felt a powerful surge of adrenaline. Just as he finished loading the weapon, Alice reached for the bag and pulled it to the ground with her, bloody hands desperately fumbling for the gun inside as she heard the violence downstairs.

"Hopefully that's the Blinders I can hear and not the Turks." Her thought was cut off by Ergin grabbing her again, this time by her neck, and pinning her against a wall. He squeezed tight and stared into her eyes as he did, watching the hope drain from them as the air did from her lungs.

She was almost convinced that these would be her final moments, staring into an ugly face - just as she had been with Jones so many times. Gradually, her body was going limp in his hand, her limbs feeling heavy as she thrashed against him, scratching and spitting like a wild animal.

"You planned ahead for this huh! What is the antidote for this poison? Tell me now!" He shouted, loosening his grip with wide eyes and letting her catch her breath for a second.

Her head was pounding and dizzy but it still worked fast.

"It's, it's in my dress. Sewn in. A small vile." She choked out, the noises downstairs getting louder and her body getting heavier.

As soon as the words left her mouth he dropped her and rushed to the crumpled white velvet by the phonograph, looking worriedly to Aylin before starting to desperately rip at the material.

"You stay there whore or I will kill every single member of the Shelby family, you understand?" He barked with his back facing her, but soon froze as he heard a gun cock and felt the metal pressed to the back of his head.

In that half minute, Alice had managed to get herself up, grab her gun and quietly slink over, leaving a trail of blood behind her on the already red carpet. There were few thoughts as she placed the gun to his head, only one real loud one that screamed "Fuck you!" He didn't deserve a chance to explain himself, he was a pig and now he was going to die.

"There's no antidote. It's not poison, it's a tranquilliser. Your friend would've been fine, you stupid fucking-"

"Please!" He cut her off with a loud beg but before he could let out another word she pulled the trigger - a loud bang echoing through the room.

It didn't move in slow motion like Alice thought it would, instead it was quick and sudden; skull fragments flying and a heavy thud. She'd never taken a life before and it was easier than expected.

Meanwhile downstairs, John heard the gunshot and even amongst the fighting in the lobby, he knew that it came from the suite. His blood immediately ran cold. The Blinders were winning and the Turks were massively outnumbered, but he felt no sense of victory until he knew it was Alice who fired that shot. He looked around the reception desperately, bloodshed all around him, until he spotted a waiter cowering in the corner - obviously not paid enough to be dealing with this.

Eyes wide, he grabbed the man's collar and shouted "Ergin's suite! Now!" to which the man immediately complied, taking him to the hidden staircase that lead directly to the exclusive room.

However, John hadn't been the only one to hear the gunshot. Maximus was already halfway up those stairs when he heard it, running as he reloaded his own weapon and prayed to God that his uncle was alive.

Upon opening the door, he was enraged to see Ergin dead and Alice stood with her gun to Aylin's head, about to shoot the passed out man until he suddenly tackled her, throwing her to the ground and pinning her down with bared teeth - foaming like a rabid dog.

"You fucking bitch!" He shouted, a guttural, grief filled scream as he started to violently shake her shoulders, banging her head against the floor. She was struggling to stay awake at this point and could feel herself slipping into darkness between each painful bump to the head. Still, she tried to fight back against him, punching, screaming and spitting. It was no use though.

He was in a trance like state, mad with grief, rage and shock, turning him into a complete animal with enough strength to break the girl's neck if he wanted despite his skinny frame.

"You evil fucking slut." He hissed, holding both her hands above her head with just one of his whilst the other groped her chest with such force that she screamed in pain. "You think you had it bad with the gypsy scum? Just you wait little girl." He dug in his nails so hard it drew blood, running them down her chest and digging into the fresh cuts made during her dance. There was definitely at least one broken rib he pressed into too, the pain becoming so intense that Alice could barely breathe as she cried out for help.

His hand finally reached her underwear, ripping them off in one swift motion despite her attempts at kicking him away. The feeling of his sharp nails drawing so close to her privates filled Alice with pure terror. A horrific scream left her lungs, followed by a loud sob.

But then suddenly he withdrew and his body was no longer on top of hers - giving her an immense sense of relief. That was until she heard John's voice calling her name and realised the psycho was going after him now.

"He's got a gun, John!" She desperately cried from the floor, her vision fading and not even certain her voice was loud enough for him to hear. She couldn't lift her head or keep her eyes open anymore, all she could do was listen as bullets started flying, empty shells flicking onto her naked body but from who she couldn't tell.

The room fell silent and there was a thud, sounding similar to the one Ergen made when he'd dropped dead earlier - instantly putting Alice's heart in her throat as she prayed it wasn't John's body she heard.

Apart from her own breathing and her heart thudding, she could hear nothing.

"Alice?" His thick Birmingham accent broke the silence and the woman instantly let out a relieved sob, alerting him to her position in the room and he immediately bolted over.

"Fuck." He muttered upon seeing her, more blood than skin visible, and quickly bent down to her side, ripping off his jacket to wrap around her. "Where'd they get you?"

His hands desperately searched her body for a bullet wound, shaking as he struggled to distinguish each injury from the next.

"Alice, where'd they get you?" He repeated, his voice cracking as his worst worries had seemingly come true.

"I-I'm not shot, John." She spluttered, almost laughing with relief. "They made me try the drink. I'll be fine."

Those were the final words she had the strength to say before passing out, much to John's incredible panic as he tried to shake her awake. It was after a few seconds of panic that he decided to believe those words - or at least try to - and he grabbed a blanket to wrap the woman in before rushing down the stairs with her in his arms, holding her tightly against his chest.

It only took a minute for him to get outside and into the closest getaway car, throwing himself into the passenger seat and shouting "Fucking drive!" to Isaiah.

"But Tommy told me to-"

John swiftly pressed his gun to the younger man's head, his pupils maniacally thin and sweat dropping profusely from his forehead.

"I don't give a fucking shit about Tommy! Fucking drive!"

This time the boy immediately complied, stepping on the gas and speeding away as the remaining blinders started the fire that would eventually burn the entire Turkish hotel to the ground - only leaving ashes behind.

[xxdreamersdesirexx]

Imagine your angry villain or killer F/O letting you soothe them when they’re in a mood.

Even if they’re shaking with rage, they let you come up behind them, put your arms around them a plant a kiss on their neck.

Whatever they need, you know what to do for them. Whether it’s pouring a drink, lighting a cigarette, drawing them a bath, or letting them do what they like with you… Anything they need, they know you can provide.

[p3sephone]

You can’t say no. (Dark! Bucky Barnes)

Summary: you work in the Stark Tower and you enjoy your routine, until someone comes up and you catch their attention. Avoiding him won’t be enough. 

Warnings: explicit violence (not heavy but still there), future implied non-con, anxiety, misoginy, self-blaming and victim blaming. If you do not like these themes or you’re a minor, please DO NOT read this since it’s only 18+. 

Note: I hope you enjoy this work. Feel free to let me know what you think and to show your support in any way you’d like. <3

                              »»————-　☠　————-««

You entered the building, trying to put on your usual glowing mask. You were always known as the kind employee, the one who offers you a coffee or a hand if you see someone down in the dumps, the one who differs from the others because you don't seek competition.

 You found that this environment in terms of competition was already toxic in its own right, and at the beginning you believed that you would not have come very far in the Stark Tower. On the contrary, that behavior of yours was noticed and rewarded. You have been rewarded for your hard work and collaboration, for your dedication to your work. Gradually you have made more and more career, managing to reach the highest ranks: the Avengers. For heaven's sake, you didn't collaborate directly with them, but given the location of your office it was much easier to see them now. You could only admire them for a few seconds before returning to your routine, which you did not despise at all: you liked your job and even more the pay. You had no reason to regret your career choice until he arrived. James Buchanan Barnes, also known as America's golden boy best friend. Now, that was a problem. Many thought that you had no problem, that you were that kind of person who was kind and helpful to everyone, and you were. You knew you were, but when you saw that metal arm covered by the man's leather jacket you couldn't help but look away and try to keep your smile. You were dealing with confidential files, so inevitably you knew what he had done. Not Bucky, the Winter Soldier, but what could change? You couldn't do anything about it. The first day he arrived you even tried to make him comfortable, offered him drinks, and stayed with him until Steve Rogers arrived, the only person he could trust. It was all right now even with Tony Stark himself, but he was still a completely out of this world man, just like Steve was in the beginning. Bucky had no idea how to adapt to the weather and just needed a little push, which was you. A few weeks later he returned the gesture, bringing you coffee to the office with a gentle smile. He knocked on your door gently, then walked in with the steaming drink in hand. He specifically chose the human one, in flesh, just to not bother you. "I wanted to, uh... return the favor, you know. You were kind, it wasn't like everyone. Most avoided me." he forced a nervous laugh, but you could see the pain of being avoided in his eyes. You knew what the others thought, you knew that despite everything the winter soldier's stain was still on him, it completely covered his personality and left an indelible label on him. You returned with a sincere smile, holding the drink in your hand. There was only a brief touch between your hands and his, yet you caught him looking at them. But it must have been a coincidence, it was probably not to overturn everything and make a bad impression. He must have been nervous, right? "Don't worry, things will work out. He'll get better." At the time you hadn't really thought about that phrase, in his past you had definitely considered it superficial, but again what could you ever tell him? Anything. You didn't know anything about that man and although I hoped for the best for him, you wanted to stay away from him. Sometimes you felt deeply hurt just for taking your gaze away from him or avoiding him when you saw his gaze turning to you. You knew it was obvious, you knew that sooner or later he would notice this. But after all, why shouldn't you? It had been a gesture of courtesy, moreover requested by Steve Rogers in person. And you were afraid. You justified yourself like this: you were human, you were afraid and you had no duty towards that man. Yet you felt so bad. So when he started to pass by your door from time to time for simple greetings, you happily responded. You felt a strange feeling in your stomach, a nervous feeling that didn't pass after several hours in the office, just because of the way he looked at you. No, it wasn't like that at the beginning: his gaze was much more distracted, he almost avoided you, then he began to gain confidence. You started to believe it was just because you were some kind of little hope for him, another little social relationship besides that with his friend and the Avengers. You were hoping it was, because you weren't ready to cross other lines soon. But apparently the choice was not up to you. Months passed and his behavior was the same, you even let your guard down. You calmed down, gained confidence and realized that maybe it wasn't so bad. The fear was passing. One day you were sitting in your office, looking at various paperwork. Suddenly your phone received a notification, which you immediately ignored. You would have continued to work had it not been for the incessant sound. You took the phone in hand, looking at the various notifications from the same person. She was a friend of yours, an Avengers fanatic. You waited months to tell her where you worked just out of fear of her reaction, which luckily she was controllable, but since then she tended to talk to you more and more about them. She didn't bother you, no.

 You could say that many of her videos of her guaranteed you the time of day, but you couldn't say the same about the ones she sent you. It could happen that passersby filmed the exploits of the Avengers, their fights. You hit play on the video ignoring the other spam messages, sighing. You were ready with a smile, thinking that even that video would be the classic of her jokes. It wasn't like that. Your smile slowly faded as you saw the winter soldier in action. The camera was mostly about him and you could see how he fought. You didn't care who the antagonists were or what they were fighting for, your eyes were fixed on that arm and how it moved. And the look, the expression, everything reminded you of that soldier in winter. It wasn't the first time you thought of the danger it would be to the whole building if the winter soldier stepped out, leaving bucky to drown in his own psyche again. Honestly, you were terrified of it. Slowly you came to mind all the attention given to you by him and anxiety rushed over you. You took a slow breath, not realizing how much you were holding it. Were you exaggerated? Sure, but you couldn't help but watch your shaking hands.

-

Days went by and you decided to change your approach, but only towards one person, Bucky. You simply made sure to change the breakfast times, avoiding the man being nearby - you avoided him more often and when you found him he was with either Steve or Sam. Either way, you felt safe. Your anxiety was less and less present and you were becoming yourself again, while maintaining a great relationship with Bucky. It seemed to you that he hadn't noticed anything, yet you saw his frustrated look when there was someone around besides you two. It was as if he only wanted you, with no one else, and that scared you. You had taken more and more precautions, despite your exaggerations. You didn't tell anyone, you couldn't do it, nobody would take you seriously. Bucky was slowly joining the full-fledged team, and you were working for the Stark Tower. You couldn't bullshit and lose your job, but your anxiety became unmanageable if you didn't control the situation, so you just tended to avoid it. You changed your routine, you no longer let yourself be found in the usual parking lots, everything was returning to normal. Until that day. You sighed wearily, feeling your feet aching from the uncomfortable heels you took from the rush that same morning. You kept your car keys, making your way to the parking lots in the back of the building. It was quite late: you used to always come home on time, but today there was a lot of material to work on and you opted to stay. With a small smile thinking about the pizza waiting for you at home you slowly walked down the stairs, making sure you don't trip over. At one point you noticed another figure on the now empty ground floor in front of you. You looked up just to see Bucky. He kept his hands in his pockets and hid his arm in vibranium perfectly. A lump formed in your throat. Had he noticed? "Hi, how - what are you doing here?" you giggled trying not to sound nervous. "Usual things, you know, actually I was… eh," she was having trouble speaking and nervously scratched the back of her neck "I was waiting for you." The lump in your throat made itself felt even more and your nervousness made you fiddle with your car keys. "Oh? You are kind, really." you just answered. You didn't know what to say because you didn't know what he wanted. "Does it bother you if I walk you to the car?" If it’s up to the car, where would the problem lie? "Of course, you are so kind even if there is no need." you giggled, getting your sure footed back and heading for the exit. He silently followed you but just his presence was enough to make you feel somehow ... baby. "You know, I, uhm..." No, you were almost at the car, he just had to shut up and it would be a day like any other. Don't say it- "I thought I might invite you to dinner one of these days." You stopped in your footsteps a few meters from your car, then slowly turned around and looked Bucky in the eye. You didn't like what you saw: hope, almost safety. He thought I said yes, but why? For the support shown? 

You were so awful, you felt so bad. He had been through so much and you would have loved to have been a part of the classic romance where you ended up being, but it wouldn't have been like that. Bucky was a good person, but he wasn't your person. "Bucky, I... I'm flattered, but I don't think there can be anything more than a professional relationship." you tried to keep a steady posture but seeing her gaze change into something unknown made you deeply destabilize. You waited for a minute, what seemed like infinity, for an answer from him. All you saw was a disappointed and irritated expression on his face, and that almost seemed like an invitation to leave. You nodded your head briefly, heading even faster to the car. For a miserable moment, you thought he was going to be okay. You managed to get to the car, put in the keys and open the door. 

You were literally about to enter, one leg yes and the other almost. Then you were ripped off by the arm and the door closed with a loud click. You hissed in pain from gripping his arm, watching the hand that held him. He was in vibranium. You held the scream in your throat and looked at him in pure shock, looking into his angry eyes. "You offered me that drink, remember? You pay so much attention and then, what do you do? You ignore me, hm?" he challenged you to speak again, approaching dangerously and trapping you between his chest and the door. You swallowed hard and let a lonely tear fall. You wanted that fucking hand of vibranium out of your skin. Away from you. "Let me go, please." He didn't like that answer because you were yanked further. He brought his face close to yours so that your noses touched and the pressure exploded. You started crying and sobbing in fear of him, desperately trying to get your hand off your arm. Bucky finally understood the problem. He actually got it, but he didn't want to believe it. "Stop, stop..." he continued to whisper softly trying to calm you down. He tried to be kind, sweet, like you but he failed miserably. "I said stop!" he screamed in your face, terrifying you. You are paralyzed with fear, unable to do anything but look him in the eye. He sighed heavily, looking down at the ground as if he were the disappointed one. "Tell me, just tell me where the problem is and I'll solve it... mh?" he murmured softly, tried to caress your face with his hand in flesh, still holding your arm with the other. He moved even closer while maintaining eye contact, planting a short and almost imperceptible kiss on your lips. "I beg you." he whispered to you and in other circumstances it would almost have been splendid. Almost. "Your... your arm, you- you scare me." These words came out of your mouth, spontaneously. You didn't even do it on purpose, you didn't think about it, you just said it. You were finally free from that incessant thought. Even then you couldn't help but feel bad, but heck it was you. For better or for worse, it was you. Bucky didn't answer you, not right away. You stayed with your eyes on your shoes rather than looking him in the eye and he didn't like it. You felt the grip on his arm disappear and you were infinitely grateful for that. You sighed shakily, hoping he would drop you off in those parking lots. Suddenly you couldn't breathe and your gaze was violently shifted to his eyes. Your neck was tightly gripped by his vibranium hand and his face was filled with anger and hatred. Pure hate. You couldn't breathe, you no longer felt your feet touch the ground. You were desperate to grab hold of his arm and reach for his face, but it was useless. After a few seconds he let you go, but you knew it would be enough to leave you bruised the next morning. You coughed hard and tried to crawl away, realizing that even a car wouldn't be useful to you. Nothing could help you against him, you had seen the videos. You knew him. Bucky grabbed you and against your every protest he dragged you to the passenger door, holding tightly the keys he had picked up from the ground during the assault. He opened the door and literally threw you into the car, then you saw him get on the driver's side. Before you could try to open the door and escape, it was blocked. There was no longer any escape from whatever your fate was. You sobbed desperately, ready to beg him but he didn't want to hear any of it. He looked at you with a glacial gaze, approaching you again. Suddenly you became quiet, curled up and terrified. Bucky liked it, it was a great payoff for what you told him. "I don't know what jumped into your head when you said those things, but I assure you that everything will change from this night on. It will be for the best, like you said, and I won't hear that bullshit anymore." his tone was even sharper than his voice. He began to drive and your blood ran cold seeing that he knew the way to your house, without even having set it on the GPS or asked for it. He knew everything. He caught your gaze and just taunted you. "I would have asked you months ago, the old way. Flowers or chocolates, not like the bullshit I see today. I would have done it right, woo, cinema but you had to go ahead and tell me something like that. As if I had chosen it, this." he pointed to his vibranium arm, but you were even more surprised by him acting like he was the victim. You still felt that hand on you, around your neck. "I never said you chose it." you muttered bravely, sniffling. "But that doesn't mean I can't say no..." The last part came out even more subdued, but he heard it anyway and deliberately mocked it. "That's the point honey. You can't say no, not after repaying those attentions and snubbing me after months and months. I was tired of chasing you and I was tired of your lousy routine. You work, come home, have dinner, stay up until and sleep late due to some romantic movie and start over? You need someone in your life to fix you up, and that's me. Like it or not it's me, and our new beginning will happen tonight, I'll make sure your mind if you remember it well. "

[fenrir-wolf-of-gotham]

Imagine your f/o eating your body after you die because then you’ll be together forever.

[the-bar-sinister]

Imagine your villainous F/O pulling you into their lap, and putting the blade of a knife to your throat.

[verilyshippable]

killing is something he must do, and finding a lover does not stop him in his tracks.

still, he notices the (although muffled) screaming bothers you. he knows you at this point; you helped him a little in the actual action of killing. he looks into soundproofing, dedicating a room to his... hobby. he makes sure his victim project is knocked out before he enters his lair.

it's the little things that count.

[underhousearrestblog]

Promised and Kept | A.T.

(summary) per your sister’s wish, you come back to King’s Landing for you nephew’s coronation, only to realize your once innocent and clueless nephew has completely changed

(warnings) Targaryen incest, reader is Alicen’t sister but around the same age as Aegon due to her being born once Alicent had just gotten married to Viserys (so a few years older than Aegon)

(warnings) explicit descriptions of dead bodies and blood

(warnings) nothing too explicit but there are some slight indications of sexual nature

(pairings) Aegon Targaryen x reader

(reminder) Y/N – your name

(genre) fluff, lukewarm smut

(word count) 5k

(also) usage of she/ her pronouns and the lady Hightower title

(also) as always in my imagines, this particular Aegon is not a r*pist or an abuser (or an alcoholic, for that matter)

HAPPY READING!

I would love to see you at my dear son Aegon’s coronation. It’s taking place in two days’ time and I’m sending an escort. Your presence would be highly appreciated, dear sister.

Lovingly, your sister Alicent

You closed and opened the paper again and again. However, there was no point in overthinking her words, as you had already accepted and left for King’s Landing. News of Rhaenyra and Aegon fighting over their right for the throne reached your side of the world rarely. You knew just the basics.

What you knew for sure though, was that your nephew’s coronation was most definitely your sister’s idea. Aegon you knew didn’t want to rule. He had expressed it tons whenever you spent time together, almost always relieved his older sister would be the one to rule. So if anything had changed, it wasn’t definitely wasn’t due to your nephew’s wishes or actions.

Everything seemed dead, once you entered the court. There was no greeting party but that was to be expected. You suspected that your sister would still hold a grudge because you had left her alone and lonely as soon as the position of a mapmaker had opened overseas. A small part of you suspected Aegon’s hand in this too – he too was to be expected to hold a grudge over you leaving. Out of all the children Alicent had, you had been closest with her first-born, you being closest to age and all... Whenever you tried to write to him, you only ever received letters from your sister, apologizing for her son and suggesting that you don’t waste your time writing him anything.

The greeting party could’ve been excused but there was also nobody else in sight. You threw a questioning look at your escort, and he nodded towards the entrance.

- I’m to escort lady Hightower to the main hall, - he indicated that you should go first. – The king has requested an audience.

You almost laughed at the formalities. The king, meaning, your nephew? That was probably Alicent. You suspected your sister would probably play cards through her son’s hands. That might’ve been for the better.

Halls inside were dead and quiet as well. No soul in sight. Not even a servant. Had there been an accident? A recent death? A battle or something? No blood anywhere, no decapitated bodies or wails of pain though.

- When was the coronation? – you questioned, rolling open your sister’s letter to check over once again. – Wasn’t it supposed to be today?

Your companion nodded, looking straight up.

- It happened this morning, - he continued to lead down the hall.

You stepped up closer to the young man and grabbed his upper arm, stopping him in his tracks.

- Then why was I even invited? – against your better judgement, you were offended. – It’s clear that I’m not welcomed here...

The young knight didn’t even honor you with a look or nod. With his other arm, the free one, he pushed against the heavy wooden door, and it opened up with a loud creak.

- Quite the opposite, sister, - you would’ve recognized that voice in your sleep. – The coronation was planned in a rush. You are always welcomed here.

Your sister stepped before you – older, more mature but still familiar and welcoming. She smiled, and you, even tired and spent after the long trip, couldn’t help not doing the same. Once she saw you smile, both of you moved almost on muscle memory, making the last few steps and hugging each other.

She sighed into your hair, and you closed your eyes, finally feeling peace after such a long time. You hadn’t seen – or felt – anything similar to family in such a long time. This was a nice change of pace, even if it wouldn’t last for long.

Feeling the small hairs on your neck stand up, you looked over your sister’s shoulder, searching for the source of your unease.

There he was. Your Aegon. Or, more precisely, a small fragment of your Aegon. Hair seemed shorter but otherwise about the same. He was, as always, dressed in green. No doubt, his mother’s work.

But that was no nephew of yours. His eyes – ice cold and cruel – and posture – no longer carefree, now stiff and straight. Yeah, he was a king alright. There was nothing left of the boy you once knew.

His eyes didn’t leave yours, as they sometimes did whenever you, both young adults, looked at each other for too long. He would almost always be the one to cave, become frustrated and flustered. Now his intense gaze bore right through you, through your clothes, straight into your bones.

Alicent stepped back to take a careful look on you. She was talking about how you’ve grown into the finest woman she had ever seen or something along those lines, unaware of her son standing up from his throne and making his way to both of you. You, on the other hand, felt frozen into the ground, unable to move or even blink, for that matter. You felt like a prey, being cornered by a familiar predator.

- And these materials, - Alicent gushed over your cloak. – One of the finer ones, I hear. I’m glad you’re doing well. Money-wise, I mean.

You were sure it was no secret to anyone here how you were able to afford to live in luxury. After all, a mapmaker, no matter how good, wouldn’t pay that well.

- Now, now, mother, - Aegon looked smug, standing closely behind his mother’s shoulder. – I hear hunting criminals pays well, - his eyes didn’t stray, and even though they seemed friendly, his tone was abrupt and cold. – How’s that husband of yours, by the way?

You involuntarily flinched. You had married about four months ago. Had even invited your sister, who didn’t even bother to answer. Only your other nephew, Aemond, had given any answer by sending a wedding present in form of a green-themed necklace. Signing it with his and Helaena’s names only.

That was a clear enough message.

You cleared your throat, unable to meet anyone’s eyes. Being such a sceptic of marriage in general and very much against your sister’s marriage, you felt as if you had betrayed yourself to a degree. Lifting your gaze up, you were met with sympathy from Alicent and smug arrogance from Aegon.

Never be ashamed of things you had to do to survive, Alicent’s words found their way through, and you lifted you chin up.

- He’s doing very well, thank you, - you challenged him to say something bad about your decisions. – We don’t see each other much during the weekdays. He’s mostly away at sea. But he writes to me sometimes and-

- I have a present for you, - Aegon turned his back on you, not letting you finish.

Apparently, hearing that you actually didn’t hate your husband was disappointing to him. Or boring.

He lifted his arm towards two men, carrying a rather large chest.

- Manners, Aegon, - your sister turned towards her son. – I wanted to hear more about my brother-in-law.

That was clearly not true but you appreciated her standing up for you.

He waved his mother off and turned his attention back to you, grinning. Something in your stomach churned.

- I acquired this about a day ago, - he smiled, indicating towards the chest at his feet. – I thought it would be the perfect gift for the return of my dear aunt.

You looked to Alicent for help but she seemed just as bewildered. Aegon opened the giant clasp in front of the wooden chest, lifted up the lid and in one swift movement kicked the box over, spilling its contents on the floor at your feet.

Spilling, as in...

You felt something warm soak through the bottoms of your footwear, just as you felt bile rise from your stomach.

The next thing you heard was Alicent’s gasp of horror, as you leaned over and emptied your stomach. The acidic taste in your mouth made your eyes water. Or maybe that was just an excuse because you didn’t want to admit you were crying.

Crying over...

The dead body of...

- Is that...? – you asked in a raspy voice, unable to pull your eyes from the decapitated form on the floor.

‘Form’ was a stretch. The head was separated from the rest. There was a leg right by your foot. Everything was covered in blood. In the blood of-

- Your dear husband, of course, - Aegon proclaimed, grinning. – We wouldn’t want him to miss a family reunion.

Everything seemed simultaneously blurring, spinning and speeding up. Your hand shook, still in your sister’s grasp. Instead of looking at the dead man at your feet, she had focused on a spot over your shoulder. Only the fluttering pulse in her neck gave away her horror.

Nobody dared to say anything. Nobody dared to breathe. The few people that were in the throne room – mostly knights, Alicent, all her children and grandchildren – were silent.

You looked through the window at the sea, trying and failing to gulp down your tears. You felt Aegon’s intense eyes on your cheek but refused to give him the satisfaction of your attention.

It was long overdue to admit that you didn’t love your husband. You didn’t even like him. You certainly didn’t respect him. You tolerated him.

Your marriage had never been a happy one. He earned well, he had connections and didn’t want children – three things you wanted, needed and couldn’t give him anyway. Marriage for a woman of your birth – a disgraced Hand’s bastard child – was the only way to ever achieve anything. As long as it looked okay on paper – and in people’s eyes – it would do.

Your husband, though a good provider, was a nasty drunk and wasn’t above raising his voice – or hand – if he ever felt the need or urge to do so. In any other case, in any other life, you would be ecstatic to see his corpse – god knows you’ve dreamt of finishing the job yourself.

But in this case, in this life, this – his very dead, very bloody corpse – was bad.

Very bad.

Everything that made your life, you comfort and your opportunities, was tied to your husband. And all of those – your life, comfort and opportunities – now, just like your husband, were pulled apart on the floor.

- YOU SPOILED, LITTLE BRAT! – your voice boomed through the hall as you lunged for your nephew.

Your hands went around his throat, as you tried to cut off his air supply. Somewhere behind you your sister was screaming at you to let the king go. Some servants screamed out.

Aegon, however, looked only a bit of out breath. He had grown quite a lot, and your hold on his neck only made him a bit breathless. As you pushed him back against one of the pillars, he laughed at your efforts. Now, a head and a half longer than you, Aegon had the strength and height advantage. His laughter only made your blood boil more and you doubled down.

Somewhere right behind your back, heavy steps closed in.

The kingsguard, you thought, expecting, at the very least, to be thrown down on the floor for harming – or trying to harm – their king.

Aegon’s eyes shifted to where the sound came from, and they turned cold instantly.

- You touch her, and I’ll gut you myself, - he spoke to one of his guards, then his eyes shifted back to your face. – Let her tire herself out on me...

Even Alicent didn’t try to intervene, her voice repeating pleas to let her son go.

Seeing that this attempt was futile, you tried a different approach. You took your right hand away from his neck and punched him right below the left eye.

That took Aegon by surprise. Only for a small second though because then his lips stretched into the most genuine smile you had ever gotten from him.

- Damn, - he sounded actually impressed. – This is fun!

You took a step back, your energy and anger leaving your body, leaving you empty. Everything was useless. This was useless. If Aegon wanted to make your life hell, he would. There was no doubt about that. As the king, he had the capacity to completely destroy anyone’s life.

- What did he ever do to you? – you hated the tremble in your voice. – WHAT DID HE EVER DO TO YOU?

Aegon’s eyes were completely black, he was trying – and succeeding – to drown you in them.

He stepped close enough so that only you were able to hear his words:

- He took something he had no right to take, - his fingertip brushed over your lower lip. – He had to pay for that.

He motioned two of his guards towards him. As they approached, he lazily strode over to your husband’s dead body, knelt beside the mess and searched for something. Once he found it – you tried not to gag, as he lifted up your husband’s ripped-off right arm – he looked it over. Then he pulled something off one of your husband’s fingers. Once he had cleaned the blood off the tiny thing, you recognized a wedding ring. The same wedding ring you had slid on your – now dead – husband’s finger at the church.

Aegon smiled, as he lifted the ring higher up and carefully examined it.

- He won’t be needing this anymore, - he said more to himself than to you, then looked at you, his gaze sliding down to where the bottom of your green – why did you think it was a good idea to wear green? – dress was covered in blood, - take lady Y/N Hightower to her room.

You took a step back as the two knights took one forward.

You needed to leave. Right now.

Was your carriage still outside?

- You can go with my guards, peacefully and with your fragile pride intact, or I can carry you, - his eyes gleamed, as they slid over your trembling figure. – Which one do you think I’d enjoy more?

You swallowed hard and kept your chin up. He quietly laughed at your need to always come out prideful.

The last thing you saw before turning away to leave, was Aegon sliding your now dead husband’s ring on his own finger.

***

You were left to your own company for most of the day. Servants came and went, leaving you food you didn’t tried, bringing you dresses you didn’t touch and preparing baths you refused to take. You spend most of that time, exploring your colorful, little prison, trying to find a way out. The only way out though – the huge, open windows – would result in your certain death if you were to try.

Around dinner time – you had lost the ability to tell correct time but, given that you arrived early in the morning, it had to be an early evening now – the door opened again. You expected another line of servants bringing you shit you didn’t want but instead were greeted by the king himself. He closed the door, and for a long moment both of you just stared at each other. Then he quickly took in the unused bath and untouched food and clothing. When he looked back at you, he looked slightly irritated.

- Do you think starving yourself will help?

You shrugged apathetically.

He sighed as if he was the one dealing with an immature child. He took three large steps to end up in front of where you were sitting in a large, soft armchair. Aegon put both his hands on the armrests and leaned in closer. You leaned your head against the headboard to get away.

- You will eat everything that they brought you, then you’ll take a bath and put on any dress that you favor.

You snorted and turned your head away in an attempt to dismiss him. His fingers grasped your chin and roughly yanked you back.

- If you don’t, I’ll bathe you myself, pick the most revealing piece of clothing I can find in this castle and will make you sit on my lap, while I feed you by hand in front of our entire family.

- I get it, Aegon, you’re pissed I left, - you struggled in his grasp. – But killing my husband, someone who had done nothing to you, is taking it too far.

- He’s not your husband anymore. His filthy, undeserving body has been buried in the dirt where it belongs, - he sneered. – By all means, you’re a widow now, dear aunt.

In the dirt where it belongs.

Something sounded so familiar in those words.

- And you’re wrong, - Aegon leaned in closer, closing his eyes, as his lips touched your cheek. – I’m not pissed you left. I would’ve given you the freedom to explore your wishes and interests. I’m pissed you broke your promise.

I’m giving you the freedom to explore your wishes and interests.

You blinked. What was he-

- You promised you’d be by my side if I was ever forced to be king, - he whispered, resting his forehead against yours. – You promised you’d only ever marry me. You promised your hand to me.

Criston Cole is dead, killed for disrespecting the heir and is buried in the dirt where he belongs, was written in one of the first letters.

I’m giving you the freedom to explore your wishes and interests, was written in the very first letter.

If it makes you happy, you are free to tell Aegon I’ll never break our promise. There is only one person I’d ever give my hand to and that’s him, you had written back.

In one of your letters.

To Alicent.

Your eyes widened.

Aegon towered over you, watching you piece things together.

- It was never-

- No, dear aunt, in all these three years, you have never, not once, written to anyone else other than me, - he explained. – Letters from my mother were written by me. Gifts sent in my brother’s and sister’s names were from me. The art supplies for your maps with your father’s name on them, all me.

An unspoken question laid in your eyes.

- And, yes, even the letter inviting you here was from me.

He gave you a warm and welcoming smile.

- From now on, everything you eat will be mine, every piece of clothing you wear will be bought by me, every book you’ll read will be acquiered by me. And everything you are will be mine as well.

Your eyes slid over his frame, stopping at his right hand. Your dead husband’s wedding band was proudly slid on Aegon’s ring finger. He followed your eyes down with his own.

- Once you’re done eating, I’ll send the servants in once more for your bath. You’re gonna take it like the obedient good little girl I know you can be, - he assured. – Then you’re gonna put on a dress and come down with no tantrums.

You wanted to laugh into your nephew’s face. It was such a short time ago when he would be the one throwing tantrums and acting like a spoilt brat.

He kneeled down before you and slid his palms carefully up your thighs, resting them on your hips for a second before sliding them back down.

This put both of you around the same height – you sat on a chair and Aegon crouched down on the floor. Still, he had few inches on you. You carefully, to not anger him, took his wrists into your hands and moved them to rest on the armrests. His palms had burned a tingling path on your upper legs.

Once you moved to release his wrists, he quickly flipped the script and engulfed your own with his fingers. Not hurting. Just holding.

- I think you’re smart enough to understand that I would never hurt you, - he whispered, words sweet but tone cold. – That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t hurt people you care about.

The unspoken threat was left in the air. There were only few people you cared about, and all of them were here – in King’s Landing, in this very castle. Your sister, his mother, and your father, Aegon’s grandsire.

He had made it clear that he would spill more blood – his own blood – to get what he wanted.

- We have so much to make up for.

Emotionless and apathetically you obeyed him. You ate, and even though food was one of the most delicious you’d ever tasted, you could only stomach few bites, gagging every time your husband’s decapitated body flashed before your eyes. You send the ladies away, bathed alone and then picked the first dress you saw.

All, of course, green.

Once you entered the hall, every person in it turned to face you. Everything was so formal. You tried to search for your sister or Aemond or perhaps Helaena but they seemed nowhere to be found. Aegon was standing at the furthest end of the crowd. Alongside with your father.

You felt a sudden rush of relief and even allowed yourself to smile. You had a difficult relationship with your father but he never let you down whenever you told him of a problem of yours. If anyone could make Aegon release you, it was him.

You rushed towards your father but the closer you got, the more your stomach dropped.

This was all wrong.

Aegon’s genuine smile.

Your father’s downcast eyes.

Alicent being nowhere to be found.

You abruptly stopped, seeing a small, delicate knife in your father’s hands.

Was Aegon planning on killing you too?

Oh shit.

Worse.

This wasn’t an execution.

This was a wedding ceremony.

Doors behind you closed with a loud bang. You looked around frantically, searching for someone – anyone – familiar to aid you but all you found were strangers.

You jumped, feeling Aegon’s fingers wrap around your wrist. He looked even taller now with his crown and all... You tried to pull away your hand but Aegon quickly grabbed the back of your neck with his other one. He leaned close enough for only you to hear and calmly explained:

- It’s done, sweetheart, - the calm he felt wasn’t contagious. – You will become my wife. Today. Right now.

You shook your head, eyes brimming with tears.

- Shhh, - he lovingly kissed your forehead and gathered you in his arms in what probably looked like a love-filled hug between a wife and a husband. – It’s all gonna work out, wife. I’ll make sure of it.

Your father cleared his throat in an obvious manner to interrupt.

Aegon rolled his eyes.

- We should probably start, - your father stammered out.

Your father had always said how much he later on regretted arranging Alicent’s marriage and how he would never ever force you, his youngest, to marry against her will. He was the only one who supported your marriage because you chose your own spouse.

What had Aegon promised him? Or worse – what had Aegon threatened to do? Your father didn’t dare to look you in the eye.

The ceremony was quiet and short. Aegon carelessly cut open his palm but took his time with yours, trying to make as small of a cut as possible. His large palm engulfed your own, blood – mostly his – dripping down from your intervened hands on the floor. Once it was done and your father had announced both of you married, Aegon’s bloody hands slid in your hair, pulling you closer for a kiss.

It was demanding and rough. Aegon put three long years of anger, longing, sadness and betrayal into that kiss, not caring that the high lords and ladies were witnessing everything. Once he had gotten his fill and his hands slid out of your hair, one of the council members threw out:

- Now about the bedding ceremony. Your wife has been previously married so she’s obviously not pure, though you could still perform the ceremony out of tradition and-

- Leave, - Aegon had taken a silk cloth and gently cleaned off blood from your neck where his hands had left it. – I want no part in it.

The council member looked over his shoulder for help from other guests. Nervously turning back, he tried to negotiate.

- But the tradition states-

- Get the fuck out of my sight before I coat my wedding sheets in your filthy blood, - Aegon spat out, addressing the council member. – I needed you here as witnesses, not as the annoying cunts that you all are.

The guests were frozen on spot.

- OUT! – Aegon’s voice bellowed, making you flinch.

As people hurried for the door, you slowly tried to make your way out as well. You were able to take two steps before your husband’s hand wrapped around your upper arm. He roughly pulled you into him, burying his face in your hair.

- Not. You, - he said, wrapping his other arm around your waist. – We have a wedding feast to attend.

You were a bit surprised that Aegon actually wanted to do something formal but you’d take a feast over a bedding ceremony any day so you quietly went with him. About three halls later, you realized that he was not leading towards the dining room or even the kitchen.

- Aegon, where are we-

- I requested the food to be brought to my - our - room. I didn’t want to share our first meal as husband and wife with anyone else.

There was no way he was not talking about sleeping together, right? This was Aegon. That was why you were even more surprised when the door opened to show an actual feast – actual food and drinks – placed on a large dining table in the middle of his room.

Your shock must’ve showed on your face because Aegon threw you an amused glance and quietly laughed.

- Don’t worry, wife, I will not bed you until you’re begging me to do so, - you wanted to interrupt to swear it’ll never happen but Aegon continued. – Though I believe it won’t take much begging, I’ve imagined this exact scenario every night for at least three years.

You sat down at the end of the table and watched you husband cut the cake and serve you a large piece. Then he opened wine and poured you some, all the while nudging you to eat. Due to nerves, eating wasn’t as enjoyable even though food was delicious. After two glasses of wine you realized you had made a mistake – you had lost your focus of Aegon. You found him sitting next to you, watching you with uninterrupted focus.

How long has he sat like this? Watching. Observing.

He wasn’t even eating.

He hadn’t even served himself anything.

You carefully chewed food:

- Aren’t you going to eat anything?

- I’ll wait for you to finish, - he encouraged you to continue eating with a nod towards the plate. – Eat.

You swallowed and pushed the plate aside. Your hand already reached for the glass but you changed your mind last minute. It probably wasn’t a good idea to be tipsy around Aegon.

- I think I’m done, - you quietly announced.

Your husband calmly nodded. Then he stood up, stepped beside you, turned your chair to face him and leaned down to kiss you on the lips.

This kiss was a chaste one. Innocent. Affectionate.

Next thing you felt was a strangling feeling around your right wrist. Your eyes shot open and you looked down to where you wrist was tied to the arm of the chair. Using your surprise, Aegon quickly grabbed your left wrist to repeat the action. You tried to buck free from his made-up prison but the restraints wouldn’t budge.

- What the hell is the matter with you? – you shouted.

Of course. Of-fucking-course, as soon as a glimpse of gentleness showed itself in Aegon, he doubled down in possessiveness.

He look down at you and smiled. Tied. So helpless. So pretty. There was not one flaw he could find. Not that he spend a lot of time looking for one.

- I think it’s time for my feast, dear wife, - Aegon said, as he dropped down on his knees in front of you.

- What are you-

Objections and confusion subsided, as your husband started lift the skirts of your wedding gown. Aegon’s hot breath burned your skin, as he kissed his way up your legs. His right hand grabbed the back of your left knee and he roughly pulled you forward in your seat. The coldness of his wedding ring – the same your dead husband wore – sent chills down your spine every time it touched your skin.

It felt so wrong. So dirty. Your ex husband was just murdered in cold blood few hours ago. Now his murderer was on his knees in front of you, feasting on every inch of your skin.

As if guessed your thought process, Aegon spoke up from under your gown:

- I wish I could’ve fucked you right there, in your husband’s spilled blood, - his raspy voice and hot breath against your inner thighs made your eyes roll back. – Even more, I wanted to keep him alive long enough for his last memory being his wife cumming for another man. His wife screaming for another man.

His fingers slowly entered you, as his lips wrapped around your clit. An involuntary moan fell from you lips. Aegon chuckled against your core.

- I never imagined you’d be this sensitive, - he half whispered, his fingers slowly moving in and out of you. – I love it.

You were no virgin by any measure, being married previously and all, but your previous husband didn’t care much for pleasing you. Aegon seemed to find great pleasure in teasing you. In enjoying you.

When either by accident or intention his fingers hit a sensitive spot deep inside you, you moaned out louder. You’d be embarassed if you could string together two words at this moment.

- Aegon, I’m-

- No, you’re not, - he roughly pulled his fingers away. – You’re not allowed to cum until your king allows it. Be a good little wife and obey your husband.

You wanted to scream in frustration, being so close to pleasure and it being taken away. You opened your mouth to cuss him out, when you felt his tongue delve right where his fingers were just mere seconds ago.

Words died on you lips, as your head fell back against the chair. You wished your hands had been free so you could press your mouth shut so Aegon didn’t get to hear your whimpers. You bit your lip so hard it hurt but the pain was still nothing compared to the upcoming pleasure.

- I’m not hearing you, wife, - Aegon pulled few inches away from between your legs. – If you want to cum, I suggest you start begging.

Self-respect was overrated anyway.

- Please, Aegon, - you whined, your voice breaking. – Please, make me cum.

His lips wrapped around your clit once more, pleasure growing one moment and ceasing the next.

- If you really want it, you should call me by my real title...

He sounded so careless, as if he didn’t care either way whether you came or not. On the other hand, you were slowly losing your mind tied to a chair and forced to endure his torture.

At any other moment, you would’ve thought twice before calling Aegon king but it didn’t matter now. You could always pick up the pieces of your broken pride afterwards.

- My king, - your voice was small, as you begged. – Please.

All he did was chuckle, sending small bursts of air through your core.

- That’s not who I am to you, - he corrected.

Then it dawned on you what exactly was that he wanted to hear.

Your heart skipped a beat for the first time in a very long time.

- Please, make me cum, - your own voice was dark with lust, as you added, - husband...

Aegon’s breath faltered against you for a second.

- Fucking finally, - he whispered, before delving right back to his feast.

As his lips sucked on your clit once more, you felt yourself fall over. All you could do was call Aegon’s name and try not to lose consciousness, feeling your husband’s rough fingers imprinting themselves on your thighs.

After what felt like eternity, you felt the pleasure subside. Your fingers were lightly shaking, still tied to the chair. Aegon rose up from beneath you, his lips glistening with your arousal and eyes black, filled with lust and desire.

All you could do was stare at him with wide eyes and pray he just untied you and left you alone. Or maybe fearing he’d do exactly that...

He slowly licked his lips, tasting you on them once more. Then he started untying your still shaking hands, all the while your eyes didn’t leave him face.

Was this all? Are you expected to leave?

Did you want to leave?

Did he want you to leave?

- Aegon-

- Do you want me to fuck you tonight? – he lifted his head to look at you and asked casually.

Even though the inner battle was quite intense, you definitely weren’t ready for that. Your thoughts were still jumbled inside your head, and you wanted to think about everything before making any further decisions.

You slowly shook your head, afraid of his reaction.

- Ok, - he said softly and leaned in to kiss you on the forehead. – Get ready for bed.

As you stood up and turned to leave, Aegon cleared his throat.

- You’re sleeping here, - he clarified. – I meant what I said, from now on you won’t leave my sight. Or my bed. You’ll be my dutiful wife and my most precious possession. My honorable queen and my dirty little whore.

He had changed so much during these years.

- We have a lot of time to make up for, wife.

[macadoodlewrites]

Dangerous Love - Part Twenty-Two (Rafe Cameron x Routledge!Reader)

Summary: Avery Routledge is John B's cousin, and she has just moved to the OBX - just in time for a treasure hunt. But with John B keeping secrets in order to protect her, he pushes her into the arms of the Kook King. She becomes tangled with none other than Rafe Cameron, but will she realise how damaged he is before it is too late, or will he ruin her before she can get away?

Warnings: death, smut, dub-con, non-con, toxic behaviour, abuse, kidnapping

Ships: Rafe Cameron x OC, minor!JJ x OC

I do put trigger warnings at the beginning of each chapter, but please read them again as there will be some triggering content in this chapter.

Main Masterlist

Dangerous Love Masterlist

Word Count: 2.5k

I woke up and the side of my head was throbbing, as if I had walked into something hard forcefully. I rolled over, reaching for my phone before opening my eyes and realising that I didn't recognise where I was.

It was a bedroom, larger than my own at The Chateau, with cream walls and a matching carpet. All of the furniture was dark wood, including a wardrobe, chest of drawers, bedside tables, writing desk and chair. On the desk was a stack of books, including some of my personal favourites. There were no windows.

I sat up quickly, ignoring the pounding in the side of my head as I did so. Where was I?

And then it came rushing back. The airstrip, Peterkin's death, Rafe and Ward threatening to shoot John B, but thankfully he had gotten away. I hope that he was with JJ, Pope and Kiara.

But none of these thoughts answered my question.

But then my answer walked through the door.

I heard a sliding lock and then a key in a second lock before the door creaked open, and in walked Rafe. He closed the door behind him, then locked it, placing a silver key in his pocket.

"Rafe," I whispered. I shimmied back on the bed, pressing myself against the headboard, tucking my legs up to my body. He watched my movements, looking down at me through his long golden eyelashes.

"Don't be afraid, Avery. You're safe here."

"And where is here?"

He walked over to me and sat at the end of the bed, placing his hand on the bed. His signet ring glinted off the warm light hanging from the ceiling. "You're at my house. This is one of the bedrooms in the basement of the mansion."

I paled, suddenly feeling sick. "And why am I here?"

He shifted along towards me, an odd smile on his handsome face. "Because you love me. You admitted it and I knew you weren't lying. I don't care if you only said it in the moment to save your cousin's life. I knew that you weren't lying. I know you too well, sweetheart."

"It's not true," I whispered, my voice hoarse. The pounding in my head wasn't going away. No surprise there. Ward was a strong man and his anger against me letting John B get away was immense.

"See, the thing is, Avery, I know that it is. I might have acted a little hastily yesterday, but I know that you'll forgive me."

“And how do you know that, Rafe? After everything that you’ve done?”

He chucked a low laugh, one that used to bring a smile to my face. “You said so yourself. You said you could forgive me for it all if I let your cousin go, and I did. I knew that you were saying whatever you could to get me to spare him, but I also knew that you meant it. I know you too we’ll. You’re too open with your emotions, always wearing your heart on your sleeve. And you told me everything with how you were looking at me back on the air strip. I knew you were scared, but I could still see your love for me in there.”

He had read me like an open book. It was like every thought in my head was on show to him, no matter how much I wanted to try to hide it from him. I shook my head at him.

“No,” I sobbed. “Rafe, please let me go.”

He moved even closer to me, closing the distance between us on the mattress.

“And now I just how much you love me, it only makes me want to protect you more. My father is angry at you and me for letting John B go, but he can see how having you here will work to our advantage.”

I scoffed at him. “I’m your insurance again?”

A small nod. “That’s how my dad sees you. You know that I think of you as so much more than that.”

“And what happens when John B goes to the cops and tells them everything? That you murdered Sheriff Peterkin? I will be useless to you and your dad.”

I waited for him to lash out at me. To hit me again. But he only reached over and wrapped one slim-fingered hand around my ankle, tugging my leg away from its curled up position against my body.

“I think you hit your head a little too hard, sweetheart. I didn’t kill Peterkin. John B did.”

I stared at him, open mouthed and gaping. And then I slapped his hand away harshly and bolted from the bed.

“How dare you,” I breathed. “How dare you try to pin this on him. He is innocent. You are a murderer.” He stood up also, hands clenched at his sides and I remembered the words he had said before I had passed out. No, Dad. I have a plan, okay? We will be fine. “It was your idea, wasn’t it? You’re the reason that that your father will blame John B.”

He shrugged, taking slow steps towards me. “My father is a smart man. He would have come up with the idea eventually, without my help.”

“You said you would spare his life.”

“And I did-“

“No you didn’t!” I screamed, rushing at him and slamming my fists against his solid chest. “They will arrest him and he will be locked up for the rest of his life! Peterkin was the sheriff! The cops will give him the death penalty if they get the chance!”

Rafe let me continue hitting him for a moment longer before one hand came up and wrapped itself around my wrists and the other placed itself on my chest, just below my throat. “I didn’t kill him. I did as you asked. My hands are entirely clean.”

“You are a murderer and a monster! How could I have ever thought that I loved you?”

He snapped. I’d been expecting it but it somehow still took me by surprise. He spun us around and shoved me away from him, my body flying into the bed. He slid himself over me, holding me down.

“Let’s get this straight, sweetheart. My father wanted to dispose of you - similarly to what your own mother wanted to do. Ironic, right? The only reason that you are here and safe is because I wish it. So do not piss me off. Let’s stop with the name-calling, shall we?”

I spat up at him, watching as it landed on his cheek and ran down his skin. He wiped it away, the anger replaced with a terrifyingly blank expression.

“I told you that in confidence, Rafe. How dare you.”

“And I haven’t told anyone else. But you need to know what will happen to you if you don’t have my protection. Everything I am doing is for you. You owe me.”

It was all I could do to bite my tongue, not scream up at him, claw at his face. I would only lose. He was stronger than me, had all of the power over me.

“I don’t owe you shit,” I hissed.

“I think that you do. I think I spared your cousin’s life. I’ve kept your secrets. I’ve done everything for you. So now it’s time for my reward.”

“What-“

He cut me off by gripping both sides of my flannel shirt and ripping it open. The buttons went flying as it flew apart, and my chest, only covered in a lacy blue bra, was bared to him.

“No, no, Rafe, no-“

“We were interrupted yesterday and I’ve been hard just thinking about how I could have taken you on that deck, in front of anyone who might have walked past.” He leaned down, his nose brushing mine. “You should at least appreciate the privacy that I am allowing you-"

So caught up in what Rafe was trying to do, I hadn't heard someone unlock the door and enter the room. But they subtly coughed from behind us - Rafe froze above me, and then turned to look over his shoulder. As he did so, I was allowed a view of who it was. Ward.

He stared at us with those piercing blue eyes with alarm.

"Rafe, what do you think you're doing?" he asked, surprisingly calmly, but I couldn't miss the cold fire in his stare aimed at his son. "Get off of her."

"Get out!" Rafe yelled, involuntarily squeezing the hand around my neck.

"I won't ask you twice, son."

They continued to stare at each other, before Rafe took a deep break and slid off of me. I quickly gathered the remains of my shirt and wrapped them around myself, covering my chest and bra from Ward. Thankfully, he still wasn't looking at me, he only had a hard glare for his son. I sat up, sliding back to the headboard, trying to move away from both of the Cameron men.

"What are you doing here?" Rafe spat. His cheeks were flushed and his hair dishevelled.

"I thought that you would care to know that Sheriff Peterkin is dead."

It was a blow straight through my chest. I'd known - I realised that now - no one bled as much as she did and survived, but I had try tried to hold a little hope. Hope for John B. Hope for myself. I finally noticed the dried blood on his hands. Sheriff Peterkin's blood.

Neither of them were smiling, but I could feel their relief thrumming through the room. If Sheriff Peterkin was dead, there would be no one to contradict their lies. Only my cousin. But who would believe him over Ward Cameron, king of the Kooks?

As if to hone the nail in the coffin, Ward added, "And there is a warrant out for John Booker Routledge. The police department has called in the FBI to assist in their search for him. By nightfall, he will be behind bars for the crime that he commited."

At this I sneered at him. "Who are you kidding, Ward? All three of us were on that airstrip. Don't lie for my benefit. I know what a monster you are. What you and your son did. Rafe killed the Sheriff, and you can lock me up, but the truth will come out. Sarah was there. She saw everything."

The truth was that I didn't know if Sarah Cameron could be trusted. I knew that she cared about John B, but did she care for him enough to turn against her family? I didn't know.

"My daughter will stand with her family, Avery."

I almost believed him, but I saw the way he swallowed heavily. He wasn't sure of Sarah's loyalty either.

"Now what am I going to do with you? I admit, keeping you here will keep your cousin away. For now. This little arrangement can only last for so long."

I couldn't help it - I looked at Rafe. He was glancing between myself and his father, panic taking over his handsome features.

"Dad, what are you talking about-"

"I'm not going to kill her, Rafe. But she can't stay here. Her friends will find a way to look for her."

"What are you suggesting?" Rafe asked, taking a step towards me. I curled further in on myself and watched as he noticed. Watched as he took in my movements.

Ward shook his head. "Nothing yet. But I will think of something. But for now -" he walked towards his son, pointing a finger at his chest - "you will not touch her, Rafe. We have enough problems at the moment without you assaulting her and god forbid, getting her pregnant."

It was like I didn't exist, for the amount of attention Ward was paying me. I couldn't even find it in myself to be grateful to him for his warning to Rafe. I hated him too much. He was dooming my cousin to a death sentence, and me to whatever fate he felt was most suitable.

They stared each other down, blue eyes locked on each other. Finally Rafe, nodded, barely a tilt of his chin. Ward looked him over, then looked at me. His eyes, thankfully, did not travel down to the remains of my shirt.

And then he left, leaving me alone with Rafe once again.

"He won't kill you, Avery."

"No, you're the only murderer here," I spat.

He clenched his fists at his sides, still standing as he was at the side of the bed. This was new. Rafe never tried to control his temper. I had witnessed that first hand on multiple occasions.

"I did what I had to do for my family-"

"And you doomed mine in the process!"

"I'm not going to argue with you, sweetheart. My father won't kill you, but we will figure out what we can do. You're not leaving me. Not again."

"I would never have left you if you hadn't tried to attack me."

"You slept with someone else."

"You attacked me before I ever told you that. Don't try to make excuses."

He had been looking down, taking deep breaths, but he finally looked at me. The flush was gone from his cheeks and his jaw was clenched tightly, but that wasn't what frightened me. No, it was the cold, dead look of his eyes.

"You love me still. And I love you. That will never change. You came to this island, with your fiery opinions and sweet smiles. You were so vulnerable. You needed me to take care of you," he breathed. "None of this would have happened if you had never come to the Outer Banks. All of this is one you."

He started walking towards the door as I sprung up from the bed.

"Are you fucking delusional, Rafe? Ward stole the gold! You shot the Sheriff! You and your father are holding me against my will! None of this is my fault, you psychopath."

He unlocked the door, the set of his shoulders tense. I lunged at him as he opened the door, but he was ready for me. He turned, his hands clasping my wrists before shoving me backwards. I fell to the floor, the remains of my flannel shirt loose and open as I breathed heavily, hatred coursing through me.

"Call me a psychopath or a monster if it makes you feel better. But you are also mine and you are not going anywhere. The rest of your life will be with me, so you better get used to it and stop fighting me. Or things could get very bad for you."

A choked laugh escaped my throat as I stared up at him. "What else could you possibly do to me?"

A cruel smile graced his full lips. "Let's hope you never have to find out.

And then he was gone, leaving me laughing to myself, feeling like I was starting to lose my mind. Rafe Cameron had taken so much from me. And now this. He was trying to blame me for this entire situation.

He was delusional. Crazy. Insane.

I couldn't let him make me that way too.

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[traumadumpwriter]

Heavy trigger warning! This story includes heavy themes of ab*se, r*pe, self h*rm, mental illness and violence.

You can check out the other chapters by going on the Freedom tag on my page!

All likes and comments are massively appreciated

Freedom: A John Shelby mini fic

Chapter Seven: 5217 words

Alice had stayed leant into John's side for the whole walk home, his arm on her waist making her feel safe in the dark Birmingham streets. They were both still covered in blood, illuminated in the occasional fire or streetlamp - but of course no passerby dared to question them.

John felt extremely protective of Alice, wanting to get her home as soon as possible and away from the preying eyes of men. He was hardly surprised that David was stupid enough to have attempted the vile act - having an intense dislike for the man instantly upon first glance - but with him, Tommy and Arthur in the building; that was incredibly stupid.

"He's lucky he's still fucking alive. Should've bloody killed him. Shouldn't have let Alice get her hands dirty. Should've taken her into the back room and then shot the cunt myself." His thoughts began to fester and he started to feel irritation and self doubt until Alice's voice broke the still air.

"You know, one of the first nights I came back, I had a dream about you." She sounded amused; like she was telling a joke rather than admitting a deep subconscious desire. "I only ever really had nightmares, so I took it as a sign."

He wanted to tease her, to ask if it were dirty. But he found himself unable to talk as her rapid mood swings once again left him temporarily dumbfounded. He didn't know wether to comfort her or be scared of her.

Alice on the other hand, was just happy to be in John's arms; the nightmare of that day quickly fading from her mind as she focused on the handsome man, unaware of his stress.

"I was in the caravan, dark and alone. Then I was falling, like the floor just disappeared or something, and suddenly I was on the high street, surrounded by all these people... I was trying to get through the crowd, away from my husband. He was chasing me and I was shouting out for someone to help me, but no one did." John's eyes flicked from her lips to the pavement ahead as she spoke, intently listening to each word but also paranoid of any man who drew too near.

"Then you were there.. And you took my hand. And everything was okay." She playfully scoffed before looking up at John. "Do you ever dream?"

He sighed. On any other day the realisation that he'd seeped into her subconscious as a knight in shining armour would surely give him quite the kick, but today was a bad day. He was tired and stressed out; his mind going from one bad place to another. And her question didn't help, it seemed tedious compared to the real troubles on his mind.

"Yeah. I dream." He replied bluntly. "Bad ones usually."

His annoyance was clear in his tone and Alice immediately stopped walking, crossing her arms.

"Why are you angry? Is it me? Did you lie?"

He turned to her with an equally annoyed look. "Lie about what?"

"About being okay with what I just did."

Another sigh escaped his mouth although this one was more of a groan as he looked down at her subtly insecure face.

"No, I'm not exactly feeling fine and dandy about you doing Blinder work, nor you slitting your wrist in front of us like it were nothing.. But I didn't lie, the cunt had it coming." He answered.

"So why the mood then?" It was almost like she hadn't heard anything that had come out his mouth other than 'I didn't lie' - it was all she'd asked for after all.

"Because of what I just said. You shouldn't be doing blinder work, it ain't right." His voice got louder before going quiet again as he started to rant more to the sky than to Alice. "I should've gutted him that first night he was in there giving you hassle. Then he would've never had the chance to bother you tonight. And I should've taken that bloody knife out of your hand before you did anything stupid."

"You shouldn't blame yourself." She cut off his ramble and stepped towards him, gesturing to continue their walk home. "I liked it."

He hesitated before putting his arm back around her; feeling almost uncontrollably submissive to her gaze. But he did it nonetheless and started to walk again. The house was only a minute away.

"Yeah I could see that." He let out an awkward tut. "And that's not the point."

"So, what is the point?"

There were a million and one points. All of which he knew would fall onto deaf ears. Alice clearly wasn't feeling particularly receptive that night and she could be hard to get a point across to on her good days. The only thing that really, truly mattered in that moment was that he had her in his arms and she was safe.

"It doesn't matter." He grumbled before sliding the key into the front door. "Just don't fucking cut yourself again, you could've hit a vein or artery or something."

He didn't look at her, instead choosing to focus on the door when he spoke those words. It made him feel awkward, giving an instruction like that to her as if she were a child.

"It's not like she'll listen anyway." He thought sourly but then she suddenly stood up on her toes and planted a short kiss on his lips, changing his tone instantly.

"If it makes you feel better I won't cut my arms." Looking up through her thick lashes with genuine, palpable care, John let the knot in his stomach loosen slightly and a smile tug at the corners of his lips.

"Or just don't cut anywhere." He said with another sigh before softly planting a kiss on her forehead.

This kiss was longer as he held her for a moment, taking in all that had happened that day from start to finish; it had been a blood soaked one and he needn't think of anymore.

"I suppose you'll be boiling the water for a bath." He said once he pulled away. "Given the state of you and all."

Alice would've usually scoffed or rolled her eyes at such a comment but she could tell that John was feeling sensitive so she refrained from it, instead smiling up at him with star filled eyes. There were a few spots of blood on his face - light splash back from David or herself - but mostly it was his hands and shirt that were stained red.

"Yeah I was gonna. You too I'm guessing?"

"Yeah. I'd invite you to join me if you weren't such a danger to knobs."

This did earn an eye roll, playful though as they finally stepped in the front door.

"Yeah yeah. Count yourself lucky."

—————

A few weeks later and that incident had put some more pep in Alice's step. It had made her feel stronger and prouder - more back to her old self.

She'd even bragged about it to Ada, about how she could've killed the man in a swift move if she'd wanted but had shown the restraint to not do so. Her friend had mixed feelings about the whole situation, as did Polly who'd heard of it through Arthur.

The matron of course said nothing about it to Alice; mostly stewing silently on her worries for the girl and the guilt it brought. There had been one time she'd discussed it with Tommy in his dimly lit office.

"You three just let her cut her wrist, then you didn't even kill the bastard who tried force himself on her. What if she'd gone too deep and bloody died?" She hissed, watching Thomas take a deep drag of his cigarette as he thought over her words, his face devoid of emotion as per.

Finally he replied "But she didn't" earning an irritated tut from his aunt.

"Do you even care? You know that your brother is completely in love with her and is no doubt going to ask to marry her. Does that mean nothing to you?"

Another sharp inhale of smoke before he spoke, meeting Polly's intense gaze.

"You're not the only one who made a promise, Pol."

"But I'm the only one who seems to bloody care about keeping it!"

Ada on the other hand had expressed direct concern to Alice but it fell upon deaf ears as she insisted she was fine and that her self inflicted injury was "no big deal."

When Alice wouldn't listen, she vented to her husband instead. He'd been around more as the summer ended and autumn drew near, buying Karl and Ada new warm hats and gloves and it almost made Ada forget how much she hated him when he was away. It wasn't until she told him about light details of the David incident that she remembered why she hated him so.

"At least she can defend herself." She had protested to Freddie, after ranting and shortly regretting it as he called Alice a litany of insults.

"The girl is a fucking psycho. You need to stay away from her. And keep her away from Karl!" He'd demanded, causing a huge fight between the two.

Meanwhile, John had been trying not to worry about her but struggling not to. The image of the woman slicing her wrist with no apprehension, no fear, no reaction, had embedded itself in his brain and with it a litany of new fears.

He always knew that she was unpredictable and he always knew that she'd done things like that as a kid, he'd seen it for gods sake.

But seeing it now was different. It wasn't a distant shock anymore; something that could be ignored and left for someone else to deal with. Instead it was at the forefront of his mind as everyday he realised more and more that he really loved this woman, she wasn't just some fantasy anymore - and as much as he wanted to hurt any man who dare even approach her - she was her own biggest threat.

"I just don't bloody get it." He sighed to Arthur after a long day at the shop. Alice was still serving pints from the bar and chatting merrily to customers whilst the two spoke in their booth.

"Why the fuck would you want to do that shit to yourself? It's like she don't care if she dies or not!"

Arthur also sighed, wanting to comfort his brother but having no good answers.

"I don't bloody understand it either." He muttered before taking a big gulp of his drink. "Maybe one day it'll make sense."

"Nah." John quickly protested with a scoff, his eyes remaining fixed on the wooden hatch in the wall, like she would reappear through it at any moment with a fresh drink. "She hides things. I don't even wanna know what she does to the rest of her body-"

Arthur let out a rude chuckle to interrupt him, banging his drink down on the table before proclaiming "What, you mean you're this soft for a bird and you ain't even fucked her?" with a typical manly leer.

John shot him a sharp glare, tutting and nodding sarcastically as he started to feel a defensive anger rush to his head like air to a balloon.

"Look, don't fucking talk about her like that, alright?" He aggressively raised his voice, much to the somewhat surprise of his brother.

Then all of the air was gone. He was at a loss for words again, as too often seemed to be the case with Alice.

"She ain't like that.. she- she-" John started to stammer and then paused for a moment, trying to condense all his thoughts into one sentence. It was through scouring his mind that he suddenly remembered the rage he'd had for Jones and how he was the one who made her like this. He was the one to be blamed.

"The fucking scum bag who took her.. he did some real rotten stuff that I don't think she's ever gonna forget." John finally finished with a bitter sneer before downing his drink.

"Well why haven't we bloody blinded the cunt?" Arthur retorted.

Another frustrated sigh fell from his brothers lips.

"I fucking sent Johnny Dogs on the trail. Can't bloody find him." He answered shortly. "And if Johnny can't find him, how are we gonna?"

"Bloody ask her mate."

"She don't talk about none of that.. but I wanna make things serious. I think she's my one." His demeanour became more solemn as he confessed to his brother.

Whilst their conversation got more intense, Alice was on the other side of the wall blissfully unaware. It had been fifteen days since the incident with David and John had spent most nights with her since. When the clock hit eleven and Alice was closing the pub, he'd turn up at The Garrison to make sure she was walked home safe. Or if the path was clear, they'd end up talking for hours between free liquor and passionate kisses.

She hoped that tonight would be one of those nights, daydreaming amongst pouring drinks. But alas, John kept ordering and ordering yet never inviting her in which struck her as peculiar, especially as the night drew to a close.

"Are him and Arthur really just getting wankered by themselves on a Tuesday?" She thought, slightly amused despite her disappointment.

John answered her internal question by suddenly slamming open the cubby door, drawing all attention to the brothers for a second before everyone meekly returned to their conversations. His eyes instantly went to Alice's and a smug smirk crossed his lips once he saw that she too was intensely watching him.

It was like she could read his mind, a blush forming on her face as she realised he'd caught her staring. Not that it really mattered, but his smirk made her feel like it might.

He stepped over to her with a drunken swagger, going straight behind the bar and grabbing her hand.

"John! What are you-" She started to ask but he leant in close and moved his other hand to the small of her back.

"Arthur will close up. Come with me." He whispered in her ear, sending a quick wave of shivers down her spine. The smell of liquor on his breath almost sent her into a panic as a reel of bad memories flashed before her eyes, but that panic was quickly subsided by John's comforting, tobacco and cinnamon laced scent swinging her back into reality.

"Okay." She nodded and squeezed his hand to which he immediately grinned and pulled her away, swiftly leading her through the front door and out into the street.

There was an apparent gleam of excitement across John's face - something that made Alice giggle and her stomach flip.

"Where are we going?" She called to him from behind as he pulled her forward.

He carried on pacing through the road without a word until they reached his automobile and he smirked "We're going to go dance."

"I've not got a dancing dress, shoes nor any makeup! You've given me no time to prepare." She tutted, although a smile did remain on her face.

"You don't need none of that looking lovely as you are."

After slight persuasion, John swung the car around to Ada's so that Alice could borrow something more appropriate to wear, impatiently beeping outside as he waited.

Inside, Ada was rummaging through her wardrobe and chatting excitedly to Alice as she held Karl - much to the silent displeasure of Freddie who was just laid on the bed listening to their gossip, knowing an argument would later ensue.

When Alice finally stepped out of the house clad in a black, sequinned dress that rested a few inches above her knees, John's jaw almost dropped and the beeping immediately halted.

"I've not got anything on my face, done nothing to my hair." She complained, placing her work plimsoles in the backseat before sliding into the passenger side. "I look a bloody mess."

The man didn't immediately respond, mentally noting her statement as ridiculous and becoming distracted by the vision before him. His eyes ran down her legs slowly and sweetly like sticky toffee, a smirk twinging at the corners of his lips when he finally reached her borrowed shoes and saw the three inch heels attached to them. It was then that his eyes went back to hers and he finally replied with a smug expression.

"You look fucking gorgeous.. and I'm the one who gets to show you off tonight, how lucky am I?" He grinned, making Alice blush and giggle.

"You're such a gentleman John. It's a wonder no one else got to you before me." She doted and he almost drunkenly said the same back to her before quickly closing his mouth, remembering 'someone did get to her before me.'

He tried to laugh it off and think of something else to say but Alice noticed his awkward change up and it only took her a few seconds to suss out what words he'd stopped himself from saying.

"You're gonna have to show me the ropes of this dancing business-"

"You were going to say the same to me until you remembered my husband, weren't you?" She cut him off plainly, once again earning an awkward silence from John as he scraped his brain for what to say back.

"It's okay. I know I'm damaged goods." She continued with a scoff before a playful smile sprung from her lips and she lightly tapped John "I was just kidding. What's the sour face for?"

He was annoyed now. Why did she have to say stuff like that? And then have the nerve to expect anyone to be okay about it?

"But you weren't kidding and even if you were, it ain't funny Alice. And why do you still call him your husband? Ain't like he earned that." John hissed but Alice still remained amused.

"Does it make you jealous?" She teased.

John tutted and pulled a disgusted face. "Of that cunt? Are you fucking serious?" His volume raised slightly and his eyes sent daggers, sending a sudden pang of anxiety through the previously cocky woman.

Still though, she had to keep up a facade so she stayed cool, staring back at John with an equally intense gaze.

"What's it matter if I was?" She raised an eyebrow.

That visibly annoyed him more.

"Stop fucking doing this, Alice! You can't just say shit like that and expect me to say nout about it! And then all of these fucking bullshit answers and riddles when I ask you anything! I'm trying to help you, I wanna help-"

"Well I didn't ask for help!" She interrupted him sharply. "And it's not like you tell me anything about how you're feeling or what you've gone through!"

John was visibly taken aback by that.

"See. You think I don't know, but I do. I see it. The war in your eyes. The war you've carried on fighting even after coming home. Why don't we talk about that? Why don't you tell me how you truly feel right now?"

Thick silence filled the car, Alice brewing with irritation whilst John sat motionless in thought, trying to compile the right sentence from the many words jumping around his head.

"Not so easy when it's about you, is it?" The woman broke the silence snidely, crossing her arms.

John instantly replied this time, an answer finally coming to him and leaving no space for quiet as he plainly said "So you wanna know how I feel right now then?"

All of the hope that had been sucked from Alice in the moments prior was now making a slow return. His eyes locked onto hers were showing a vulnerability he'd never shown, so she almost smiled as she quietly responded "Yes. Tell me."

"I feel like, I want to take things further.. but you've still got secrets and a husband... and I feel like he still owns you." The words struggled to come out, feeling as bad to say as they were to hear.

Alice's heart had been lifted and then crushed all within a few seconds.

"John.. I... He's dead to me." She stammered, feeling stupid and rejected, trying to hold back a wave of emotions.

"Say his name then. Or the name he gave to you."

Another thick silence.

"Exactly. He ain't dead to me. You can't even say his name it scares you that bloody much. I-I've got to kill him Alice." John's tone was intimidatingly serious but went soft towards the end as he saw her demeanour crumble.

For some reason, tears started to fall from her eyes upon hearing that. Maybe it was the fact that John cared that much about her; the intense realness of his emotion, or maybe it was the overwhelming fear of the man they were speaking of. Either way, she was more embarrassed than ever and quickly turned to open the car door but John stopped her, lightly grabbing her arm and pulling her towards him.

"Stop it John, I'm a bloody stupid disgrace and I need to go. Find another girl to dance with." She quietly cried, looking down to avoid meeting his gaze as she gave his pull no resistance.

It pained him so much to see her like this; full of self hatred and suffering because of something done to her by an evil person. The conversation had sobered him up and he'd lost most of the confidence that he'd been building up with each bottle in the hours prior.

However, he knew he still needed to say it - he still needed to tell her the truth. Arthur's earlier words rang through his head; "Tell her before it's too late, before she leaves again or does something unfixable to herself!"

He took a deep breath, placing his hand on her shoulder and squeezing it.

"Look at me, darling." He said quietly and she slowly lifted her head, her glistening eyes meeting his steely ones.

"You're none of those nasty things you say about yourself... I fucking love you, Alice. I've been dreaming of you ever since you left and I don't wanna dance with no one else... I recon I want you to be my wife someday-"

Her heart jumped into her throat and the world felt frozen. Did he really just say that? She was too shocked to even smile, instead interrupting him with a wide eyed "Really?"

"Yeah. Of course. Why wouldn't I?" He grinned before nervously adding "Is that not what you want?"

Finally, she was able to relax and grin, her tears quickly drying up "Of course that's what I want" moving her hand to cradle John's face.

In the dim light, they shared a slow and passionate kiss, fingers intertwining and heartbeats racing. The romantic atmosphere was cut short though by John pulling away and sighing "But as I said before; it's all someday. There's some things I need to do first and killing that bastard is one of those."

Alice scoffed.

"Why? Because he's still my husband in the eyes of some questionable God? Or because he took a part of my body? 'Cus if that's why, you've got a long list." She was regaining her confidence and talking nonchalantly, unintentionally sending a dagger into John's gut.

"It's because I fucking love you Alice, didn't you hear me? And I'm gonna kill every fucking bastard who ever laid a finger on you. You understand?" His irritation was bubbling again despite his straight face and it suddenly began to make sense to Alice; John's desire to kill Jones.

Was this love? The real love that she'd only ever dreamed of or read about? Was she really lucky enough to have a man care for her this much?

And It's not like she didn't also have a deep desire to see Jones dead. But she never expected anyone else to care, let alone this much.

There were so many worries racing through her mind though, the fear of seeing Jones again, the worry that they wouldn't find him and therefore John might refuse to be with her. The pressure was immense.

But with a sharp inhale and quick dab of her eyes, the brunette nodded and declared "I'll help you find them, but I want to be the one to kill him."

—————

Despite the earlier intense conversation, by the time they reached the club, the mood was cheery and playful again. Both felt completely enamoured by each other, hands constantly intertwined or roaming further onto their bodies - especially as they danced. The club was quite busy; small and cosy with warm lighting and yet having an air of snobbery, like it were a secret club that the pair shouldn't have stumbled into. They didn't mind though, ignoring the whispers and looks as they laughed the night away.

John's words kept repeating in her head, giving her butterflies as she looked into his eyes and pictured being his wife. His protective arm and gentle patience had finally made her feel unconditionally safe with the man- along with a couple drinks - and she found herself uncontrollably lustful for him; even more so than she'd been before.

Now she felt ready. He'd said he loved her for goodness sake. There's no way he'd hurt her.

With a grin, she removed her arms which were draped loosely around his shoulders and grabbed his hand - this time being the one to lead him out of the building.

"Why we leaving beautiful? I's about to get us another drink." John mumbled in her ear, planting kisses to her neck between each word.

"Because I love you. And I want you." She replied, looking straight ahead as they headed towards the automobile.

John's steps almost halted. It had slightly upset him earlier that she didn't say it back, but he'd managed to keep it hidden as her emotions felt more important than his. Even as they'd danced and kissed, he'd secretly been worrying that he'd confessed too soon and she didn't really feel the same way.

A satisfied smirk set across his face once her statement had fully settled in; the spark in his belly now a full fire. He beamed and span Alice to face him, planting a big kiss on her lips before they climbed into the car.

"Where are we going?" He swallowed, Alice's hand teasingly trailing along his thigh.

"Yours, I guess." She smirked confidently, taking her hand away from him to grab a cigarette from the small compartment in the car.

He instantly missed her touch and craved to feel it again, almost feeling like he was being deprived of oxygen. It only took a second for him to put the keys in and start speeding down the road.

Upon reaching John's house, the two were attached to each other even before opening the front door; one of John's hands running down Alice's back whilst the other fiddled with his key.

Once the large door was open, Alice practically shoved him inside; giggling before lacing her fingers through his as he lead her to his bedroom.

The house was small and quiet, only the sounds of their footsteps being heard until they reached the bedroom. She'd passed out on his sofa after talking into the late hours on a few occasions now, but she'd never gone upstairs.

Alice looked around the room slowly, it wasn't much less bare than the room he had at the family house - beige walls and a wooden floor with aged furniture, decorated by the occasional photograph or doily.

"You like it?" John spoke from his sat position on the edge of the bed, snapping her attention back to him.

When their eyes connected she felt her stomach flip and the butterflies she had return tenfold.

"It's okay." She laughed slightly "Could do with some more things on the wall."

"What kind of things?" He replied, his eyes hungrily running up and down her body but his tone suddenly becoming awkward.

Alice realised that she was going to have to initiate whatever happened next - John was obviously either too intimidated or trying to be a gentleman. In truth, it was a mix of both.

"You don't care about that. Let's fuck." She shortly answered with a smirk, shocking John for a second before a heavy wave of relief rushed through him and a grin crossed his face.

She quickly moved to straddle him and his hands instantly started to roam her body, small moans escaping his mouth as their crotches started to grind against each others.

"Take off the dress." He mumbled after a minute, releasing his hands from her arse and his lips from her neck.

"You have to get undressed too. I don't want to be the only one exposing myself." She insecurely returned, earning a smirk from John.

He undid his shirt and pulled off his trousers with no issue, whilst Alice stood awkwardly beside the bed - still fully clothed.

Once he noticed her seeming uncomfortableness, his smirk dropped into a concerned frown and he asked "What's up with you?.. If you want to stop we can stop."

"No. It's not that." Alice quickly replied, swallowing at the sight of his chiseled chest leading all the way down to the bulge in his underwear. "I- I, I just don't know if I'm going to look good."

It made him sad to see the beautiful woman so full of self doubt.

"I wish you could see what I see" He tutted "cus' you're the most gorgeous woman I ever known."

The sincerity in his eyes and voice made her blush and she looked away before starting to unzip her dress, mentally building herself up again. Every second she took to pull it down felt like a minute for John and when the fabric finally dropped he couldn't tear his eyes away.

Her body was as heavenly as he'd imagined, especially as she slowly removed her bra. But his fears were true; she was covered in brutal, angry scars and not all of them looked self inflicted. There were also relatively fresh red lines marking her thighs.

Those weren't things that needed addressing in that moment though, in fact he'd expected it, so he quickly pushed the thoughts away and focused back on her beauty. His hands and lips quickly found themselves back on her body as she moved to straddle him again.

"Fucking hell Alice, you are fucking beautiful." He looked up from her breasts to her face, planting a long kiss on her neck and moving a hand to kneed one of her breasts whilst the other held her waist.

A quiet moan escaped her mouth and she giggled slightly as she started to grind against him. Her mind was focused on nothing but John and his on her. She too felt enamoured by his body, impressed by his skills in the bedroom and the way he made her feel at ease - even as he finally penetrated her.

The night lasted a while until they eventually fell asleep in each others arms, completely exhausted, comfortable and happy.

[volturilovers]

A snippet of my upcoming imagine

He rushed to her as fast as he could when the guards told him. He knew how the darkness or one’s mind can affect someone

[imagine-effed-up]

“oh i get it u really like f/o” no u don’t get it. u’ll never understand how much i wanna rip that man apart with my teeth. i wanna butcher him and package his meat and sell it. my god i am deranged

hey anon where's ur butcher shop I'll buy some :3

[the-purvashadha]

"Would you peel an orange for me?"

I would peel a pomegranate for you.

[namespara]

If Cazador ever commented on Astarions companions (instead of just ignoring them which ultimately leads to his downfall) he'd be pretty flabbergasted to see the durge he definitly has heard of innit