#she has not even been to see her family after her dark half got them in a car wreck!

[july-19th-club]

tai from yellowjackets im gonna keep it real with you folks she is NOT getting that reelection

[ireneispunk]

Pride, the Wolf, and the Dragon

Jacaerys Velaryon & Cregan Stark x female reader smut (King's Landing Handmaiden)

You were a sight to behold, merely a handmaiden yet you could command a room. And grasp the attention of a prince and a lord... on the same night?

request: (anon) 'Saw your requests are open, what about dark dom jace x sub brat reader or a threesome with the same as before but with cregan too which they're dark dom but still obsessive I don't know how these too can make sense but I hope you got my point'

w.c: 4537

c.w: canon divergent (blacks won and it is set after the dance, rhaenyra sits the iron throne, basically just did it to have everyone in one place), threesome!!! woop woop, p in v sex, oral (m & f receiving), light choking, spanking, overstimulation, dirty talk, NO use of y/n, as usual no specific features mentioned - let me know if i've missed any!

a.n: i've never wrote for cregan before but im supper happy with this! other requests made are about half done for those waiting ♡

dividers: @v6que ♡

You let out another fake giggle as yet another wealthy man bided for your attention. This type of thing always happened on big occasions, and today certainly was one. Lucerys and Rhaena’s wedding was no small occasion, every lord and lady who had supported Rhaenyra’s claim was here. I mean hells, that’s why you even had the opportunity you did. You weren’t low born, but handmaiden to the queen was a role very much reserved for high born girls. You father had risked his own life, and your families, to help Ser Erryk back into King’s Landing with a secret route he knew through Tumbleton. This job had provided you with a home in quarters you could’ve only dreamed of, and the opportunity to be around the prince. Your fingers grazed across your skin to fiddle with your necklace, you smiled up at the man in front of you, laying on your charm. Despite entertaining his dull conversation and even duller jokes for the past half an hour, you certainly did not care for him. You took advantage of the man’s position in society and every once in a while, you stared beyond his shoulder to see the prince of Dragonstone burning holes into his back. Tonight, however, was different. Not only had you caught they eye of one prince Jacaerys, but his friend from The North, Lord Stark. You could not deny the beauty the two of them shared, handsome, strong features, large frames and eyes that looked as if they wanted to consume you. The few times you looked their way, as to avoid suspicion, they occasionally whispered to one another. A small look caught your eye from your queen, Rhaenyra. You excused yourself from the conversation and walked to the other side of the great hall to where Rhaenyra and Daemon sat. From the opposite side of the table, you felt a gaze upon you, but you did not do the favour of glancing upon them.

You reached Rhaenyra’s side bowing your head before she whispered to you, “Has Lucerys’ chambers been prepared?” She seemed uncomfortable at the request.

You nodded as you said, “Yes, your grace. I can return? And make sure it is still perfect?”. She shook her head, as Daemon placed a hand upon her’s.

“No that won’t be necessary, you have done so much for us today. Feel free to keep enjoying the celebrations,” She paused to look over to her eldest son and the Lord Stark. “Though I believe there are still some who await your acquaintance.” Your mouth formed into a small ‘o’ shape before nodding. You took your leave and turned to face towards the prince and the lord. Both had already been starring at you, Jacaerys averted his gaze whilst the Stark stared you down. Once you stood opposite them at the table you gave the prince a small curtsy, before turning to Cregan and dipping into a deeper curtsey whilst maintaining eye contact with him. He raised his brow, not used to being looked in the eye by such a sweet looking girl. “Your grace. My Lord Stark, I am pleased to meet you.” You spoke confidently, introducing your name and admired the length of his arms that were visible from his rolled sleeves, “It appears the warm climate agrees with you, my lord.” This was one of your favourite hobbies, you couldn’t deny it. Compliment lords see how they respond, speak almost out of turn but not enough to turn any heads. Jacaerys’ grip on his cup tightened at your remark. For weeks since you had worked there you had tortured him. Wearing those barely there handmaiden’s dresses, the obsessive eye contact, compliments unbefitting of a lady he was not courting, drawing his baths, and offering your assistance. Everyday it was a struggle to not rip your dress from you and fuck you in front of everyone like you seemed to desire. He loathed any sort of gathering because he knew your beauty and charm would attract the attention you deserve.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by a large smack across the back from his Stark friend. “Where have you been hiding this one Jace?” He exclaimed with a laugh.

You smiled slightly, “Perhaps my lord has not been searching hard enough, enjoy the rest of the celebrations.” You smirked, turning on your heel and stepping down the stone stairs. A bewildered look flashed across Cregan’s face, as Jacaerys shot him a ‘now you know’ look. You were stopped by a rather handsome man on your way past the dancing pairs, you declined his offer to dance and made your way to the other maidens who erupted into quiet chatter, asking you about what the Stark had said.

Your final task of the night had been escorting Rhaena to Lucerys’ chambers. You held her hands in yours and promised her she would be okay, you boasted of Lucerys’ sweet nature and gave her hand a quick squeeze before stepping back behind the corner. You watched as she knocked on the door, before it opened, and she disappeared inside. You smiled to yourself as you turned to head down the corridor before coming face to face with the tall northern man once more. You gasped, raising your hand to your heart. A small chuckle left his lips as he eyed you. He did not know you all that well, but this felt like a rare feat, to catch you off of yours. “My lord, you startled me. Is there something I can help you with?” You looked at him and watched as his eyes shamelessly travelled down your body, lingering on every curve.

“Ah, yes, my lady. I appear to have gotten turned around from my chambers, and I’d hate for those fancy baths these lot make go cold.” You raised a brow at him. Sure, the Red Keep was busy, with windy corridors, but it was a fairly straightforward route from the great hall to the guest’s chambers.

You gestured with your hand to follow him the way he came, “Of course, my lord. Though you do not need to use such honorifics with me, I am not a lady of anything.” He sensed a strange proudness in your lack of title. Cregan was used to people fighting to get the next best thing, yet you were content with your lack of status.

He thought for a moment, before responding. “Then how may I refer to you?”

“However his lord desires.” You spoke with purpose, but never harshly. Every second he had of you intrigued him more.

Once you had reached the familiar door in which Cregan was given a few days prior, you placed your hands behind your back and watched him. He stepped by you and pushed the door open, he leaned against the door frame and eyed you. “So.” You watched him, waiting for him to continue. “Do you have anymore handmaiden duties for the night? Or are you available for me?” A smile tugged at your lips as you thought for a moment.

“Mmm, that depends, why do you wish to know?” Your arms folded over your chest.

He chuckled, “I’ve never had to try this hard to get a pretty girl to have a drink with me.”

You raised your brow, “Most men just ask.” He brought a hand to his chin and rubbed it against the scruff. Just as he was about to respond, someone speaking caught your attention.

“It is getting late your grace is there something you need?” You recognised one of the servants voicing out from around the corner. Out of curiosity, you stepped back to see who it was and there stood the prince himself. He looked away from you when he met your gaze.

“I will come in for a cup of wine. Just one.” Cregan’s face lit up, stepping to the side to allow you to step inside. Your eyes narrowed at the lit fire, the flames still tall. You heard the clanking of a belt and the shuffling of clothes before turning back around to Cregan. You jaw dropped slightly at the sight of him completely nude and making his way over to the bathtub in the room. Your eyes absorbed every inch of him, admiring each defined muscle, every scar, the dark hair that tufted around his chest.

You pulled your gaze away and turned to face the wall. “My lord this is not appropriate.” You voice quivered ever so sightly as heat rose to your cheeks.

“Neither is staring.” You could hear the smile in his voice. “But why waste a perfectly good bath.” You heard water slosh around as he sank into the tub. “Turn around.” Your core lit up at the sternness in his voice.

You turned to face him now that he was submerged, only his upper torso out of the water. He leaned back into the tub, sighing out as he brought his arms to rest on the sides. “Wine?” He questioned. You looked at him with a puzzled look but nodded your head. He gestured over to small table and chairs that had a jug and a few cups upon it. You made your way over, feeling his gaze locked onto you.

“When you invited me in, I thought it might be you fetching the wine.” You grasped two of the cups and the jug before turning to face him.

“Ah, well. It seemed easier to get my own clothes off first.” You raised a brow and walked over to him. You kept your eyes on his face, avoiding what was beneath the water. You used your foot to slide over a cushioned stool towards the side of the bath and sat upon it. You met his gaze once more, now eye level with him. You held out a cup to him and watched his fingers lace around it. Picking up the jug in your hands you steadily poured into the cup, before moving onto your own. You were about to take a sip from yours before he stopped you to clink cups. He did so as if you were another harsh northern man causing the liquid in your cup to slosh backwards and land over your arm and into your lap. You gasped and looked up at him with a shocked look on your face. He laughed heartily at your expression and took a sip of his wine. He heard as your cup clinked against the floor, “You may clean up with me if you wish.” He smirked, placing his cup on the ground, and gesturing to the bath. You stomach tightened at the thought of it but rose to your feet with a hum. He moved slighted and raised his hand up to you. “Stay, please. No more win spilling.” His damned handsome face spread a warmth across your body. You exhaled before taking his hand.

All of a sudden you felt him pull you down, landing bum first into the bath with a big splash that threw water over the sides. You let out a small scream feeling yourself become soaked in water. You yelled at him, splashing his face with the water in annoyance before the door suddenly opening caused his laughter and your screaming to cease. You turned around to see a very angry, then confused, then embarrassed Jacaerys. Your heart dropped as you scrambled to your feet out of the bath, you slipped slightly on the wet floor before stepping towards him. “Y-your grace!” You exclaimed, you felt exposed, the thin material of your dress completely soaked through and clinging to every inch of your body. His eyes darted between you and Cregan.

“I heard a scream, and thought I recognised it. My apologies.” He was about to turn to walk away before Cregan got up out of the tub. Jacaerys eyes widened before hastily shutting the door. Jacaerys kept his eyes firmly on the wall behind you, worrying that if his pants got any tighter it’d be noticeable. For once, you were speechless, unable to form a thought, let alone communicate it. “C’mon Jace, this is exactly how you wanted her. Naked- well almost, needy. I know she’s needy just at the sight of you.” His voice rung out from behind you. “I know you didn’t imagine sharing,” He inhaled sharply through his teeth, as his fingers grazed over your shoulder to pull your hair behind you. “But she’s definitely one who needs two cocks to put her in her place.” You face flushed, as you felt a new wetness in between your legs as Cregan’s hands sat upon your shoulders, rubbing small circles with his thumb. Jacaerys finally brought his gaze to you, he eyed your face before devouring ever inch of your body. His throat bobbed as he walked to face you.

“Tell me what you want.” He spoke as he locked onto your eyes. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, feeling as if you were in a dream.

“I want you,” You spoke softly. “Both of you.” You clarified, looking back over your shoulder to meet Cregan’s eyes.

His large hand rested on your jaw, tilting it up towards him. A shaky breath escaped your lips as his hand trailed down and rested upon your neck, his thumb tracing your throat. Cregan turned your head to face Jacaerys, his jaw was tensed, fists clenched at his sides and eyes filled with hunger. Your body burned hot, Cregan’s body pressed against you, his hard cock pressed above your ass. His grip on your jaw tightened slightly. His lips grazed against your neck up to your ear. “Undress his grace,” Your heart buzzed as Jacaerys’ eyes finally tore away from yours to fleet to Cregan’s for a second before returning to you. You swallowed, feeling smaller and smaller as the seconds passed. “Go on, like a good serving girl.” Cregan’s voice dripped with lust. Your hands made their way onto Jacaerys’ chest, he stiffened under your touch. Your fingers traced along the three headed dragon pin that held his jacket together before unpinning it and letting the jacket fall open at his chest. Cregan’s hands never once left you, tracing up and down your sides of your soaked dress, lips occasionally finding your neck or shoulder. Your eyes travelled down to the belt that decorated his waist and kept you from seeing him. You unhooked it, and pulled it from him, allowing it to clatter to the ground. Your hands pushed his coat from his shoulders and down his arms, revealing a thin cotton shirt. His throat bobbed as your hands traced to his waistband, pulling his shirt up slowly over his head. You hand instinctively touched against his chest, admiring each definition and feeling his skin burn beneath your fingertips. “I told you she’s fucking needy for you.” Cregan’s words flushed your face. Jacaerys eyed you, raising a brow to question him. You nodded lightly feeling overwhelmed with the tightening in your stomach, Cregan’s hands exploring your sides, and Jacaerys watching you like you were his prey. Jacaerys picked up your hand in his and placed a small kiss against it before placing your palm against the bulge in his trousers. Jacaerys’ hand reached your jaw, his thumb traced along your lip as his brows furrowed from your touch.

His fingers were soft, and his touch more delicate than Cregan’s, as he tilted your face to the side as if he were finally able to appreciate every inch of your beauty. His eyes flashed behind yours towards Cregan before you were being led over towards the bed. Jacaerys sat first on the end of the bed, pulling you by your hips to stand between his legs. His palm ran from your stomach, through the valley between your breasts and he rested his fingertips upon your lips while he thought for a moment. “Take off her dress, wouldn’t want the poor thing getting cold.” Your thighs instinctively pressed together. You’d never heard Jacaerys speak in a tone like this, but it was certainly a welcomed surprise. You felt the large hands of the Stark trail up your exposed back to the tie of your haltered dress. One movement later the dress was pulled over your chest and over your hips and dropped to the ground. You felt a cool chill over your exposed skin as Cregan took your hand in is. He pulled you around in a circle, admiring each curve of your form as he did so. A small ‘gods’ mumbled from his lips as he watched you. You gasped as his hands travelled round to your front, taking your breasts into his hands. Jacaerys leaned back slightly to admire you, his fingers absentmindedly rubbing your inner thighs. Your eyes screwed shut as Cregan’s fingers played with your nipples and his lips attached to your neck. “I want her coming on my tongue first.” Your eyes shot open to watch Jacaerys, a small smile playing at his lips. You opened your mouth to say something before Cregan shushed you.

“You heard the prince.” Cregan instructed. You gulped lightly, watching Jacaerys lay back upon the bed, his head of curls hitting the pillows. Cregan held your hand pulling you onto the bed. He watched as you crawled over to Jace, his hand landing on your ass with a harsh slap, causing a yelp to leave your lips.

His hand pushed you closer over Jacaerys until you were straddling his chest. Jacaerys’ hands looped over your thighs to bring your core to his face. His smirk disappeared under your mound as his lips placed small kisses on your thighs. Cregan sat beside you and guided your hand to his cock. He hissed as your hand wrapped around it and began slowly pumping it up and down. You felt as Jacaerys licked a long stripe from your core to your sensitive clit, tasting and collecting your wetness on his tongue. You almost flinched at the sensation, your hand flying up to grip the headboard. A loud moan left your lips as his tongue teased your entrance, before delving in and out of it. Cregan turned your face to him, a groan leaving his lips seeing yours screwed up in pleasure. Your hand continued to pump his cock, enjoying feeling it twitch beneath your hand when your thumb grazed the tip. You jaw dropped at the feeling of Jacaery’s tongue massaging your clit. A flurry of moans left your mouth as his lips latched onto it causing your hips to rut into his face and that familiar tightness to return to your stomach. Cregan’s thumb pulled on your bottom lip before pushing into your mouth and gliding across your tongue. You moans were supressed by Cregan’s thumb as you sucked upon it, a satisfied smirk plastering his face as your eyes fell back behind your lids. His thumb left your mouth with a pop as his hand returned to your throat. Your hand moved quicker on his cock as Jacaerys tongue worked on your clit. “You should thank his grace for his hard work, pleasing you with his tongue like this.” Cregan spoke close to a whisper, well, as close to a whisper as the Northern man could get to.

You whimpered in response, unable to form words being on the precipice of your orgasm. Cregan’s hand squeezed lightly against your throat, his rough fingers grazing your soft flesh. “Use your words when spoken to.” His tone was harsh in a way that flushed your cheeks.

“T-thank you, my prince, for kissing me.” The words fought to escape your lips as all you felt you could do was moan. Your praise causes a groan to fall from his mouth that vibrated upon your clit and fuelled him to massage it at an unbearable pace with his tongue. Your nails dug into the headboard, as your other hand left Cregan’s cock to grip his forearm that held your neck. A flurry of moans left your lips as your orgasm erupted from within you. Your thighs quivered as Jacaerys’ tongue broadly licked you through your high. A large whimper left you lips from the overstimulation causing Jacaerys to place a final kiss upon your clit. You panted as you shuffled down back to straddle his waist. Jacaerys leaned up on his elbows to see you, his hair was dishevelled, his lips plump and coated in your arousal. You leaned forward and tentatively placed a kiss on the side of his mouth, before brushing your lips against his. Your tongue swiped over his lips, tasting your wetness. You gasped as your hips were gripped and you were pulled further down on the bed onto all fours. Jacaerys smirked as you were level with his cock, his pants becoming impossibly tight.

Cregan’s fingers teased the entrance of your pussy as he leaned forward to you, “Gods Jace, she’s soaked.” Your cheeks flushed as you looked away slightly. Jacaerys’ hand found your cheek and turned you to face him.

“I want to watch as he fucks you.” He smiled slightly; his words contradicting the sweet look upon his face. A whimper left your lips as you felt Cregan’s cock rub between your folds and occasionally hitting your sensitive clit. You watched in anticipation as Jacaerys undid the tie of his trousers and pulled them down enough for his cock to spring free. It was huge and dripped with an inviting bead of precum.

Just as your lips were about to touch Jacaerys’ cock, Cregan thrusted into you, bottoming out almost immediately. You clenched at the full feeling, your eyes screwed shut as you let out a half yelp half moan. Once his pace became regular you opened your eyes to see Jace stroking his cock at the sight of you. You opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out, begging for his cock. He obliged and groaned at the sight and sensation of the tip hitting your tongue. With both of your hands propping you up on all fours you took him into your mouth bobbing up and down on the tip and massaging the underside with your tongue. You couldn’t help but moan onto his cock with the feeling of Cregan pounding into you, his length hitting a soft spot inside of you you’d never felt before. Cregan’s hands went from peppering small slaps across your ass to kneading it with his large hands. Jacaerys’ hand made its way to your hair and took a fistful of it. He was gentle as his guided your mouth further down his cock. He moaned loudly as it glided across your tongue and hit the back of your throat. The familiar pressure began to build up in your stomach, and as if he read your mind, Cregan’s pace quickened. Both of his hands gripped into your hips, snapping into you, and pushing against your sweet spot. One of his hands left you hips to reach under your and rub harsh circles into your clit. Your eyes widened as your moans got choked upon Jacaerys’ cock. You tapped the side of his thigh, and he immediately pulled you from his cock, allowing heavy pants to leave your mouth. You cried out a loud ‘fuck’ as you felt your second orgasm wash over you, your pussy clenching tightly over Cregan’s cock. Just as quickly as your orgasm passed your mouth reattached to Jacaerys’ cock, wanting him to enjoy himself too.

A few moments after your peak, Cregan thrusted a few more times before burying his cock deep inside of you and filling you up with his cum. He groaned loudly as his fingertips dug into your skin. He slowly pulled out of you and collapsed onto the bed behind you. Despite the shaking in your legs and your sensitive pussy, you looked up to Jacaerys with an idea. You readjusted to straddle his waist once more and aligned his cock with the entrance of your pussy. Jacaerys looked shocked for a moment before his hungry gaze returned. Your brows furrowed as you slowly slid down onto his cock, trying to readjust for his size. You watched as his head threw back in pleasure as your second cock of the night bottomed out inside of you. You started to move, slowly thrusting yourself upon him. Jacaerys eyes opened to watch you, occasionally looking down to his cock disappearing inside of your pussy that was now overflowing with cum. A loud groan left his lips as he internally cursed himself for not being able to last longer and savour your pussy smothering his cock. He pulled you down by your hair to meet his lips as he kissed you deeply. It was passionate, his tongue leaving little time before it delved into your mouth. You moaned against his lips at the new angle, he was managing to fill you even more. Your thighs shook with overstimulation and Jacaerys noticed before he held your hips at a certain point and began to thrust into you. Your eyes locked with his as you moaned his name. He grunted as his rhythm became erratic before holding your hips down on his cock and as you felt his seed spread within you. You rested your forehead against his as you both regained your breath. His hands ran softly down your back as he pulled his cock from you. You whimpered at the emptiness, before sitting back onto your thighs to relieve the quiver in them as Jacaerys re tied his trousers.

You heard footsteps walk over to the side of the bed, before looking up to see a fully clothed Cregan. You blushed, realising how consumed you had been in the prince to not notice. “Aren’t you both just adorable.” He spoke with a chuckle, as his hand lightly spanked your ass. You shot him a glare, moving to lay beside Jacaerys. “Easy,” Cregan spoke raising his palm. “I though you were the fire breathing dragon.” He smirked gesturing to Jacaerys. Jacaerys, turned his head down to face you, before returning a shrug to Cregan with a smile. Cregan laughed, waving you off before making his way to the door. “Sleep tight, lovers.” He smiled to himself as his hand gripped the doorhandle.

“Wait! But this is your room?” You questioned, leaning up from the bed.

He shot you a grin, “I heard the prince’s chambers have become available.” He shot you both a wink before disappearing into the corridor. You hummed in confusion as Jacaerys just smiled.

“You both confuse me.” You hummed, scanning Jacaerys’ face. He raised his arm up and motioned you to lay beside him. You huffed as you cuddled into him, your head upon his chest. He reached for the blanket that had been tossed aside and threw it over you both. His hand landed upon your side, and softly rubbed your waist.

He planted a small kiss upon your head. “I think we both did a good job at showing you what we think of you.” You could hear the smile in his voice as your cheeks flushed. You definitely knew for sure now.

[feirceangel]

How about a feyd x reader where feyd has reader watch him in the arena to gain her favor. She is impressed with him and respects his prowess. Just before a huge match what if she goes to him and leaves a hand print in paint over his heart as her token rather than a sash like the others. This fires him up/ looks super cool on his skin.

Ooh I love this!! I did my own spin on it but I hope you still enjoy! :)

Imagine | Stained (Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen)

Word Count: 1,377

Warnings: biting

Cheers rise into the polluted air on Giedi Prime, a torrent of frenzied noise which alerts you to the occurrence of yet another gladiatorial event.

You hadn't realized there would be one today. Normally, you notice the announcements and the crowds gathering to go see the festivities. You don't often join them.

Watching people fight to death. . . it's not a habit of yours.

Lately though, you've noticed how often Feyd has been mentioning his fights, never outright asking you to watch them but leaving plenty of hints.

Being from a wealthy family has its benefits, especially on a harsh place such as this. Ever since you've been here, you've tried to make the best of it and befriend as many native Harkonnens as you can.

This first, and dare you say only, friend-adjacent connection you've made has been with Feyd-Rautha.

His brother is too animalistic and angry for your liking, and the Baron is a ghastly man you do not like to interact with. Servants won't speak to you and the Mentat Piter is sickening in his sadistic tendencies.

So, to your surprise, you got to know Feyd the best out of them all.

He's brutal, yes. Menacing and violent as well.

And so alone.

Sure, he has his concubines: his pets that he plays with but soon grows bored of. And yes, he has his mockery of a family: a predatory uncle and a nasty brother.

Yet you can see past his façade of aloofness, see into his inner self. And what you see is a man forged by others into what he is now.

You see a hurting man who doesn't know anything close to true kindness.

So yes, he is wild and vicious. But there is an intelligence and cunning within those dark eyes that you have seen countless times. 

He's constantly observing, waiting for his moment to strike. He knows how to play his hand to benefit himself.

Despite his more undesirable traits, you'd dare call him a friend.

The cheering dies down as colourless fireworks burst in the air like ink stains. You watch them, casually leaning against the balcony railing.

Feyd finds you immediately, half undressed and still painted for fighting in the triangular colosseum.

"My lady," he rasps, approaching from behind slowly. "You did not watch the fights."

"It slipped my mind," you reply honestly. "Though I have no doubts you remain the champion, my lord."

His lips quirk upwards, "Naturally."

Your eyes roam over his blood splattered body, taking in the well-defined muscles which are decorated with paint. He's shirtless, how could you not stare?

He basks in your attention, cocky smirk never leaving his face. But it strains once you turn your attention away.

Feyd comes to lean against the rail beside you. You feel his eyes on you.

"You're coming to the next fight," he finally says once he realizes you're content to dwell in the silence.

You turn to face him with a smile, "Am I?"

His eyes narrow, voice quick and sharp, "Yes."

"You didn't ask."

Feyd tilts his head, "It's not a request."

"A command, my lord?"

"Yes," he repeats, leaning closer into your space. Your teasing tone is getting under his skin, you can tell. He's almost touching you now but you don't retreat.

This is the game you play.

"I suppose I can attend the next fight," you hum thoughtfully.  "Especially since you've requested it personally."

He backs away slowly and you force yourself into staying still even as you desire to chase after him. His close proximity is intoxicating.

As if he senses your inner battle, he grins and nods to you before sauntering away.

"I will put on a good show for you, my lady."

You find yourself alone, wishing he had stayed longer.

~~~

It was not mentioned again, and now you find yourself in your room preparing for the event. You dress modestly, still unaccustomed to the fashions on Giedi Prime. A black dress does nicely, with your hair loose. 

You still have plenty of time before your attendance is necessary, but you traverse to the arena despite this. The hallways are as colorless as everywhere else, a maze of black and white. 

Feyd is being dressed as you enter the room. His sharp eyes betray a smidge of surprise which he masks underneath an air of haughtiness. 

The servants attending him walk on eggshells, knowing that any wrong move could cause their demise. 

"You may be dismissed," you say, addressing the servants. 

Their eyes flicker to you with uncertainty. The servants do not move until Feyd snarls, "Do as she says!"

Instantly, they are gone. 

And it's just you and the warrior. 

You approach him slowly, picking up the paint pot that the servant abandoned. Circling him, you note how his eyes never leave you, even when he has to twist his head to keep you in his sights. 

"My lord, I hope you can forgive my impertinence, showing up here unannounced."

"Don't be coy," he narrows his eyes, "You're not sorry."

"You're right," you chuckle, swirling the paintbrush through the inky paint. "I'm not sorry to see you, especially like this." 

You rake your eyes over his flesh, barely concealed by a cloth wrapped around his waist. He is truly a fine specimen of a man. 

"May I?" You ask, stopping in front of him. 

He inclines his head. He hadn't been expecting this, since you seemed intent on avoiding the fights entirely. 

You begin by painting the smaller rectangles across his chest and then move to his back. Your brushstrokes are slow, methodic.

He anticipates each cool touch as you meticulously paint his flawless skin. He wishes it was your touch he was feeling, your hands against his skin. He craves it.

Next, you adorn his abdomen, barely concealing the excitement you feel being this close to him. As you finish, he reaches for his clothes but you stop him with a hand on his arm. 

"I'm not finished, my lord."

Intrigued, he returns his arm to his side, staring you down. 

You coat the palm of your right hand with the inky black liquid, never breaking eye contact with Feyd. He doesn't stop you as you press your hand against his warm chest, right where his heart would be. 

You start to pull away, but he is quick to grip your wrist, keeping you in place. For a second, you are concerned that you went too far. Maybe this is the day he kills you for your insolence?

Instead, he lunges forward, catching you in a hungry kiss. He bites and takes, and you surrender with ease. A sense of relief and excitement floods your senses as you kiss back just as passionately.  

"It is fitting," he says once he parts from you. 

He watches as you slowly peel your hand from his skin, leaving a perfect handprint over his heart. 

"What is?"

"That you should mark me like this," he grins to reveal blackened teeth. "You are a stain on my heart."

"How so?" You're still breathless, allured by his gravelly voice. 

"All it longs for is your touch, you vixen."

You caress his cheek, "I'm just marking what I own. And once you're declared the victor, you can come claim what's yours." 

Your words ignite a fire in him and he starts forward but you step back. 

His glare is venomous, as if you just deprived him of oxygen. 

"You have a fight to win, Feyd. Shouldn't you be preparing?"

Turning, you begin to walk away. 

A rough hand snatches your shoulder, and a hot mouth is on your neck before you can blink. He bites down harshly, drawing spots of blood. The pain is expected when dealing with a man like Feyd, but it is still surprising. 

You really have gotten under his skin. 

He releases the pressure of his teeth and drags his tongue over the wound. 

"You needed a mark too, my sweet."

You turn and press a chaste kiss to the top of his head, "Go make me proud, Feyd. I shall see you in your chambers after the fight."

He lets you leave, watching with blood stained lips. 

"As you command, so it shall be."

[please like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed!]

[gracexthoughts]

the strong

jacaerys velaryon x targaryen!oc

warnings; slight canon divergence, cussing, canon typical incest, fighting, implied smut at the end (i cannot actually write smut to save my life sorry), s1ep8 spoilers ig summary; after vaemond's petition, aegon’s jesting, and aemond’s taunts, jacaerys is furious and seeks solace and advice from his step-sister and betrothed. inspired by tyrion telling jon to wear his bastardy “like armor so it can never be used to hurt'' him in the first ep of GOT (I’ve been rewatching to feed the brainrot) a/n; daenera is daemon’s eldest daughter from his first marriage, in my head daemon didn’t kill rhea and she died in childbirth just before rhaenyra’s wedding so daeny is about half a year older than jace but you can use your imagination as it doesn’t really matter.

“I dare you to say that again!” Jacaerys growls from the dancefloor. Daenera turns in her seat to see Jacaerys with his fists clenched, his eyes dark and glaring daggers at his uncle. The feast had been amicable considering the events of the day, but while the adults’ words of peace ring honest between them, animosity between the young princes, princess and ladies nears its boiling point. Prince Aegon has spent most of the evening cooing foul and crude jests to Jacaerys and Daenera about their soon approaching wedding. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Prince Aemond has added his own taunt to the pile: a thinly veiled comment on the Velaryon brothers' true parentage. 

“Why? Twas only a compliment,” Aemond defends, lowering his goblet to face Jacaerys, stepping towards him as he does. “Do you not think yourself Strong?” Jacaerys answers by bringing his fist up to Aemond’s jaw, the sound resonating through the hall. Lucerys leaps up from his seat, Vaemond’s slanders still heavy in his ears, but Aegon intercepts him, slamming him down on the table and sending food and silverware clattering from the impact. Daenera, ever protective of her siblings, leaps from her seat and wraps her arms around the eldest prince’s neck, putting all her weight against him to remove his hands from Lucerys. He grapples with her for a moment before she is ripped off by a Kingsguard. Knights separate Aegon from Luceryrs, Jacaerys from Aemond, and Rhaena pushes Baela back from leaping into the fray as well.

The Queen pulls her second son back, muttering angrily to him but he pulls away from her as Rhaenyra moves towards her sons and Daemon to his daughters. “I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family. Though it seems my nephews aren’t so proud of theirs!” Aemond continues to taunt, leveling a snide one-eyed glare at Jace. Jacaerys wriggles out of the guard’s grip and steps menacingly towards Aemond. 

“Wait, wait,” Daemon says, holding a finger up and stopping Jacaerys in his tracks, forcing him back to stand next to Daenera. 

“Go to your quarters, all of you. Go now!” Rhaenyra commands sternly, her eyes holding a warning as she stares down her eldest son and motions for the rest of her children, by blood and by marriage, to leave. 

“Come on,” Rhaena says softly, pulling her sisters along with her and out of the hall by their hands. Daenera relents with a sigh but not before squeezing Jacaerys’ and flashing him a sympathetic smile. 

“Are you alright, Daeny?” Baela asks as they make their way to their rooms.

“Fine, worried about the boys,” she mutters in reply.

“I’m sure Jace and Luke are alright, sister,” Rhaena says softly, wrapping her hand around Daeny and Baela’s arms. Daenera nods agreeing but still can’t shake the worry in her chest.

Near an hour later, a knock sounds on the door to Daenera’s chambers, pulling her from the depths of the book in her hands. “Come in!” she calls expecting one of her maids and, not bothering to stand from her comfortable position on the settee in front of the fire, turns to see who enters. “Jace,” the lady says softly as her betrothed steps into her chambers, his eyes still dark with rage. 

The pair have been betrothed for nearly ten years, the announcement made soon after their parents married, and as they grew up together they have grown a deep love for each other: a bond of unconditional trust and adoration between the future King and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Jacaerys comes to crouch in front of her, placing his hands on her knees and caressing the joint over the silk of her night gown. His tunic is gone, leaving him in just his white undershirt and trousers, Daenera’s eyes trail to the bit of collarbone she can from her vantage point. 

“Are you alright? Did Aegon hurt you?” the prince asks, searching her deep purple eyes that snap back to his face at his words. 

“I’m fine, Jace. If I can match you in a spar, I can handle myself against that drunken lecher,” she chuckles slightly, setting her book aside and reaching up to brush a stray curl away from his brow. “Are you alright?” She asks, reaching for his hand with its already darkening skin. She’d let her hair down to hang around her shoulders and even clouded by anger as his mind is, Jacaerys notices her etherealness. She has always been a sharp and unsettling kind of beauty, her eyes seeming to have the ability to gaze upon your soul, but Jacaerys relishes her softer side. The side she so rarely shows others.

“Wish I’d gotten more blows in,” he grumbles, standing and pacing in front of the hearth, his shoulders tight and face scrunched in anger. 

“Maybe you’ll have a chance before we return to Dragonstone,” she offers with a smirk. “The cunts deserve it, the pair of them.” 

“Will I never be free of this? Of these slanders that are whispered in my wake? Will they sneer at me when I sit on the throne? Ignore my rulings and snicker-” 

“Jace, breathe,” Daenera pleads, concerned with the rising panic she sees in his eyes. 

“I cannot, Daeny!” the prince exclaims, “How am I meant to be a King, a leader, when I am not respected?” 

“Darling, we are barely eight and ten, you are second in line at present. Respect will come with time. Once your mother is Queen the people will become familiar with you, with your grace, your kindness, your justness,” she says, placatingly, reaching out for his hand, forcing him to stop his pacing and look at her. “They will forget the slanders the Hightowers murmur because you will be a good and just King. Besides, it's your mother’s blood that makes you royal, not your father’s.” 

“And yet there will always be those who call me a Strong. The King cannot take every single one of their tongues,” he says with a heavy sigh, running a ringed hand through his hair in distress. Daenera considers this for a moment, knowing it is true enough, and Jacaerys sighs, turning to face the hearth, planting his hands on the stone and gazing down into the flames. 

“So make it a compliment,” the lady says after a long moment, leaning back on her arm on the settee, her deep amethyst eyes watching the prince. 

“Make the doubt of my paternity a compliment?” Jacaerys scoffs, turning to her. “How in the Seven Hells-” 

“If they shall call you ‘Strong’ no matter what, the more you rage against it the more power the slight has. The only way to take away its power is to show it cannot be used to hurt or diminish you. Take it as your moniker and wear it like armor so all know tis not a weapon they can wield against you.” 

“Jacaerys the Strong?” he asks slowly, the wheels turning behind his eyes, unable to deny the intelligence of her council. He sits down slowly next to Daenera, his eyes fixed on a point on the rug.

“King Jacaerys the Strong, First of His Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm,” she purrs, leaning towards the prince, a smirk on her lips. She watches as a firelight dances in his eyes, his pupils dilating at her proximity. 

“Hm, not bad,” he smiles, and leans down, connecting his brow with Daeny’s, running a finger calloused from years of practice with a blade across her jaw.��

“What is it?” Daenera asks softly after a moment, pulling away to look into Jace’s eyes, sensing he is still feeling troubled. 

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, not meeting her eyes. 

“Jacaerys,” she chides, cupping his face in her hands and forcing him to look at her. 

“Just… fucking Aegon… I fear he is right in his jests. I have no idea how to please you as you deserve,” Jacaerys confesses shyly, pulling his face from Daeny’s hands as heat creeps into his face. 

Daeny cannot help the laugh that escapes her lips, of all the troublesome worries that the day has brought, her sweet betrothed worries of her pleasure. Sex is not something the pair have discussed in length yet, even though their wedding is a little more than a moon away. The pair tend to flit around such topics, even when they steal secret kisses in dark corners of Dragonstone and come away with scarlet cheeks and racing hearts. 

“And now even you laugh at me!” He exclaims exasperatedly and stands to move away but Daenera quickly stands as well, stepping in front of him and stopping him from leaving. She pushes him back to his seat and kneels before him, her hands on his shoulders. 

“No, my love, I’m not laughing at you, I’m sorry. Tis just that you should not concern yourself with such worries,” she says gently, running her hand from his broad shoulder to the toned expanse of his chest, feeling his heart beating under his skin. 

“But I-” 

“I have no more knowledge on how to please a man than you do a woman, Jace,” she continues, her voice placating and soft. “We shall learn together and be stronger and better for it.” Jacaerys meets her amethyst eyes, finding comfort in the truth and lack of judgment he finds in them. “Besides, I cannot believe that Aegon knows any more than you do. He has never had any care for anything besides his own pleasures and you heard poor Helaena’s toast. He targets you because he knows you are more generous and loving than he could ever hope to be.”  Jacaerys chuckles at this, knowing she speaks true of his uncle and melts into her touch at last. 

“You truly do not care?” He asks, toying with the ends of her silver hair that brushes against his knee. 

“Shall I prove it to you, my prince?” she purrs, a teasing mischief in her eyes as she runs a hand up his chest to the nape of his neck, pulling him down to meet her lips in a kiss. He sighs into her embrace, his hands finding purchase on her waist as he deepens the kiss, his tongue darting between her lips. Realizing she is still kneeling on the floor in front of the settee, he grips her hips tightly and pulls her to straddle him, pulling a gasp from her lips which eggs the prince on. Jacaerys’ hands brush through Daeny’s hair, pushing it away from her face, and trail down her back to explore her figure; Daenera weaves one hand through his hair, tugging slightly at the roots and eliciting a groan she feels through her other hand which rests on his chest. 

Without warning, Jace stands and without breaking their kiss carries Daeny with him as he makes his way to the bed, resting her gently on the linen sheets and covering her smaller body with his. All his insecurities and rage momentarily forgotten as he loses himself in her, the only girl he has ever had eyes for, and proves to her, and to himself, just how strong a lover he can be.

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Twelve

Steve wanted everything to be ready and set up for when Eddie got back; Hopper was going to drop him over later in the afternoon.

It didn’t work out like that at all; Steve’s parents left earlier than they said they would. He got Eddie’s things out of the closet, and then was heading to the garage to get the tent, really, truly intending to use this time to get everything right for when Eddie comes back.

Steve lasted twenty minutes in the empty house before he couldn’t take any more. He just missed Eddie too much. He was too excited to see him, to bring him home, way too excited to wait hours.

Especially since every moment now felt so precious, so finite.

So he thought fuck it, slipped on his sneakers and picked up his car keys and headed to the store. He definitely needed fresh groceries ready for Eddie to come home.

It’s a fairly good thing his mother never actually cooks; she might have had questions about all the peas in the freezer. As it is Steve has to rotate between stores, he's started saying, ‘I’m doing this green juice diet thing,’ every time he gets a strange look when he pays. Even that would only fly so far before people started looking at him like he was really weird; it’s not like Hawkins is a big place, there’s not exactly a lot of options.

From the store, Steve heads to the cabin, only to find Eddie sitting on the stoop, his bag ready next to him. He grins so big when Steve pulls up.

Hopper comes out with a steaming mug cupped in his hands and an unlit cigarette sagging between his lips, “you’re as bad as each other, I told him not until four, he’s been packed since half nine. Couldn’t stop him.”

Steve kneels on the step below Eddie so they can give each other a proper hug; he feels Eddie’s chest expand in a massive sigh, and then Eddie relaxes fully against him. Steve can relate; he feels the same.

“Sorry Hop,” Steve says absently.

Hopper makes a noncomittal noise, and Steve hears the rasp of his lighter, “all his things are clean, did a load of laundry last night.”

Steve stands, but finds Eddie’s holding his hand and Steve kind of doesn’t want to ever let go of him anyway, so it kind of works out.

“Thanks so much Hopper, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you doing this.”

Hopper leans on the porch rail, “just laundry, kid.”

“You know what I mean, you’ve, you know, looked after him and I-”

“Hopper,” Eddie says, causing them both to look, “thank you,” and Eddie presents Hopper with a pine cone. It has strands of long grass haphazardly tied to it, little flowers and a couple of smalls leaves. Steve doesn’t look at Hopper’s face; he knows he will laugh if he does.

“Errr...you’re welcome.”

Steve thinks Hopper accepts his gift with grace.

The plan is to spend the whole afternoon on the couch watching movies. Eddie puts his things away; moves things around, spends an hour generally reacquainting himself with the place, Steve asks him if he wants the tent put back today, but Eddie shakes his head, clearly not worried about it. He also doesn’t want to get his shiny things back either; Steve offers to go into his parents room with him but again, Eddie seems disinterested.

He just seems to need to check where everything is before he finally settles, snuggling right up to Steve and settling his head on Steve’s chest, half cradled between Steve’s legs.

Steve knows Eddie’s missed him, Steve has missed him, too.

They don’t even pretend that night. There’s no talk of nightmares, or dark TV, or bad dreams. There’s no excuses about how it’s cold, or talk about Eddie sleeping on the couch; they brush their teeth together, and then Eddie gets into Steve’s bed before Steve does.

Steve sleeps with Eddie’s tail wrapped between and around his legs, and tries not to dwell on how much it’s going to hurt when it’s gone.

Steve walks through the door of Family Video, arms in the air, triumphant, “ayyyyyyyy!”

Robin mimics him from behind the counter, throwing her arms up too, “ayyyyyy...what are we doing?!”

“Celebrating, obviously,” Steve gets his ass up on the counter and shimmies around, dropping down on the other side, “we’re back together. The dream team.”

“The dynamic duo?”

“The perfect pair.”

“The...top twins?”

“That’s weak Steve.”

“I know, I couldn’t come up with anything good that begins with ‘T’ and I wanted to keep this going. Thanks by the way, I think we have two shifts together this week. I do not want to know what you had to do to get that-”

“Gross,” Robin slaps him in the chest with a half eaten red vine.

The bell over the door tinkles, a whole brood of excited kids coming in, looking for Christmas movies, Steve directs the mom to the right section. It’s not long before more come in, “what the hell is going on?” Steve gripes about all the little kids absolutely ruining the displays.

“Last day of school, everyone's out for Christmas,” Robin tells him as she rings someone up.

“No way,” Steve looks at the calendar pinned to the cupboard door behind the counter, “Oh. It is.”

“Yep Dingus, not long now, got all your gifts?”

“Shit Rob, I don’t have any gifts-”

“Terrific!”

“No it’s-”

“No no, terrific! With a ‘T’!”

“Oh...yeah, I suppose that was the obvious option.”

Steve gets home late, these closing shifts really starting to get to him, thinking about what the hell he should get Eddie for Christmas. He has no idea how long the whole...transformation thing…might take. Or how long until it happens. This might be the only Christmas Eddie ever has and…Steve’s going to do his best to make it amazing.

Tomorrow he’s going to drive out and pick up a real tree, get all the decorations down from the attic; Eddie likes shiny things, he should like it. Steve feels better with a plan of action, he always has.

“Eddie,” Steve calls as he closes the front door, stripping off his jacket and gloves. His ears are freezing, he should wear a hat really, but that would be a bit of a crime with his hair.

Steve can smell something; coffee he’s pretty sure, and something cooking, “Stee.”

“Hey Buddy, what are you doing,” Steve finds Eddie on a kitchen chair in front of the stove.

“Stee nine and a half.”

“Yeah, yeah I did say that buddy.”

Eddie’s carefully stirring soup on the stove top; there’s a bowl ready, next to a plate of crackers and randomly shaped cut up lumps of cheese. Well, more like hacked up lumps of cheese, but still.

Steve watches, heart sort of in his mouth, as Eddie carefully, tongue poking out in concentration, lifts the pot and pours the steaming soup into the bowl. He does it slowly, but perfectly fine, “Stee hot, ow.”

“I’ll let it cool down I...just thank you buddy, thank you so much.”

There’s a dirty knife and the empty soup can in the sink, but otherwise Eddie’s tidied up after himself. This must have taken so much effort; Eddie would have to move the chair every time he needed to reach something. Steve can’t help it, he dips, giving Eddie a soft kiss on the cheek.

Part Fourteen

[luveline]

hi can i request girl dad!aaron 🥺🥺 i am such a sucker for him, anything would be amazing thank you so much <3

hope this is okay!! —you have big news for your small family. 1.5k pregnant!mom!reader

When you first married his father, you weren't expecting Jack Hotchner to like you very much. Losing his mom so young, you wouldn't have blamed him for resenting you, or even hating you. You were like a stranger in his home. 

Things are different now. Jack lays in your lap with his head on your shoulder, and maybe he's a little too old for such a coddling cuddle, but who really cares? You love him and you love holding him, and if he wants some extra comfort tonight you're happy to give it. Plus, you have something you've been meaning to tell him.

“He doesn't have real headlights, did you know?” Jack asks. “They're just stickers.” 

You raise your brows at the car on screen. “No kidding.” You brush your fingers through his hair. He's blonde like his mom, though that blonde has turned brown the older he gets. 

“Race cars don't have headlights.”

“They don't need them,” you say. Jack smiles at you shyly and leans into your neck, clearly pleased. 

You're very, very glad that you ended up being someone he loved. It's a privilege to get to look after him, and to be his step mom. In the same way you're lucky to be Aaron's partner and Jane's mom, too. 

“Think dad's made dinner?” you ask. 

“No, he's probably just talking to your sister.” 

Yes, well. You can't blame him, nor would you want him to stop. He talks to Jane like she understands, and Jane, not even two years old, nearly brand new to the world, soaks him in. You can hear him if you strain, the dulcet cadence of his voice under the steady hum of the dishwasher. 

“That's okay, sweetheart, don't get upset,” he's saying, “it's okay. Come here, I've got you.” 

Jane starts to cry. You and Jack give one another the look, apprehensive in hoping it won't turn into a full blown melt down. 

“Honey?” Aaron calls. “Sorry, where did you put her other pacifier?” 

You kiss Jack's hair. “Sorry, bub. Wanna come with me?” 

Jack wants to stay and watch Cars. You wrap him in a throw blanket and make your way into the Hotchner kitchen, where Aaron rifles through the drawers and cabinets with Jane held snugly to his chest. “I know,” he says, “I know. I'll get it.” 

You nudge him aside. You only know where the spare pacifier is because you put away the wooden spoons last night and pushed it back. You fish for it, a ladybug made of glittery red plastic, and Jane's crying slows as soon as you pull it free. She grizzles while you rinse it, but she settles when you hand it over. 

“This is not the best, is it? The pacifiers?” you murmur. 

“She dropped her other one and it rolled under the oven. And no. Not ideal.” He pats her back gently. “As long as she stops before she gets her big teeth, she'll be okay.” 

“Do you think it's a comfort issue?” you ask. 

“No,” he says. You worry about stuff like this constantly, but he knows kids are more hardy, and he isn't worried. “Sorry for making you get up.” 

He hates when she cries; he may see his kids as a hardy bunch, but he takes their upset as a personal failure half the time. His concern for her overrides his concern for you, but in a few weeks that might change. You can't imagine him calling you to find something again when your stomach is round as a honeydew. 

You've been meaning to tell him about that, too. 

You're not secret-keeping immorally, he does want another baby, but you've been having a little bit of fun. He's gone on cases so often lately that he hasn't been able to keep track of you, or your doctor's appointments.

You watch him with Jane, and you think about him with Jack, and you know he's going to be happy. He's told you as much before. 

“My poor girl,” he says, covering the back of Jane's head with his hand and pulling her under his chin. He looks as fine as ever, tall, dark and handsome to a fault. Jane's lips smack as she sucks and digs her teary cheek into his chest. 

You can feel his gaze on you. “Is now a good time?” he asks. 

You shrug. “For what?” 

“To tell me what you're not telling me.” 

“Oh, busted,” you croon, aiming for his shoulder. 

You do as Jane had and press your cheek to his front, your eye forced shut. 

“What do you think it is?” you ask. 

He makes a strange noise. You can practically hear the possibilities for your secret running through his head. His birthday is vaguely soon, so that's what he'll settle on first. But Aaron likes to disregard the obvious as most people do, only circling back to it when there's no other lead to follow. 

“How big of a secret is it?” he asks, rubbing Jane's back diligently. She makes a happy sound, and for a moment he forgets his plight to kiss the top of her head. 

You speak quietly, carefully, because it is big, huge news. “The pamphlets say it’s about the size of a strawberry.” 

He puts his cheek to Jane's head softly, looking at you in confusion. A second, another, and his eyebrows start to relax, rise, a smile on his lips like it's too good to be true. “You are?” he asks in surprise.

Jack appears in the doorway with the throw blanket trailing behind him. “Y/N, when are you coming back to watch TV?” 

“Jack, lovely, come here. I have something to tell you,” you say. 

Aaron grabs your wrist. When you meet his eyes, he squeezes gently. “You're sure?” he asks. 

“The doctor seemed pretty certain, handsome.” You lower your voice as Jack comes to stand in front of you. “Are you happy?” 

“Happy about what?” 

You put your hand on your stomach cautiously, worried about Aaron and how quiet he's being, and if it's as okay to tell Jack as you'd thought, but that action is what gets him. “I love you,” he says quizzically, as though his being happy is totally dependent on the fact. “Of course I'm happy. This is the best secret you could've kept.” 

“About what?” Jack asks, patting your arm. 

You bend down just a bit to see his face properly. “It's a secret you can't tell anyone for a while, okay? The only people who can know for now are me, you, and dad.” 

“Can I tell Jane?” he asks. 

“Yeah, buddy, you can tell your sister,” Aaron says. 

You peer at him from the corner of your eye, both concerned and pleased to see the wetness ringing his waterline, and the tenderness with which he holds Jane close, his thumb rubbing little circles into her back. 

“I'm going to have another baby,” you say. 

Jack's jaw drops. “Right now?” 

“No, not right now! You still remember last time?” you ask with a laugh, taking his shoulders into your hands. 

“You were crying and shouting for dad to hold your hand.” He pokes your stomach. “So it's like Jane?” 

“Maybe one day, sweetheart. For now, it's just a tiny baby.” 

Jack wants to see your stomach. He's expecting a much bigger bump than you have to offer, but you explain that eventually it'll get bigger again, and he seems quite pleased. Aaron makes sure to give him a hug and ask him if he's okay, to which Jack says, “Yes, but can we have a brother this time?” 

You rub the soft top of your stomach. “I'll see what I can do, Jack.” 

Aaron commandeers your attention, kissing you more times than you can count. You don't think you've ever seen him this happy now the reality has truly set in, asking Jane in his murmur, “Do you want to be a big sister?” 

She gurgles around the pacifier, leaving drool in a line down his chest. 

“I know, honey. I'm excited too. Let's clean you up, mm? And make mommy a cup of hot cocoa…” He narrows his eyes at you. “Would you sit down?” 

“I'm only ten weeks, I'm fine.”

“She's keeping secrets from me, and now she won't do what I'm asking,” he says to Jane. “Can you believe it? Anyone would think mommy doesn't like me as much as she claims.” 

You kiss his cheek. “M'having your baby, Aaron, again.” 

“That is a compelling argument.” He wipes Jane's cheek. “What do you think? Should we forgive her?” Jane laughs. He smiles at you, lovesick. You're not sure who for. “I guess we're letting you get away with this one, sweetheart. But no more secrets.”

“None,” you promise. 

[kentopedia]

my girl dad dazai post but now i’m thinking abt pm boss dazai as a dad …

he knows the mafia is no place for a child, but then you get pregnant, and he realizes just how badly he does wants to be a dad (even if he thinks he’ll bad at it)

he swears to himself he’ll protect her from all the bad things in the world, but it’s not just him … she’s got everyone in the port mafia wrapped around her little finger. so dazai feels a little better, knowing he’s got a handful of the most powerful ability users looking out for her <3

and she can get away with anythinggg. there is a lot of “just don’t tell your mom” happening (from dazai & everyone else). she loves that everyone has a special ability, but chuuya’s is her favorite bc he can float anything ! and she is dazai’s child so don’t doubt she is a menace !! if chuuya won’t fly her in the air, she’ll start tearing up bc she knowssss it makes him feel bad >:)

dazai has a lot going on with the port mafia, but nothing is more important than you and his daughter. he puts everything aside for the two of you !! the most devoted husband and father

dazai stops, mid sentence, looking up at the sound of the door slamming shut, little footsteps sprinting across the room. he’s in the meeting room with the execs, discussing the foreseeable future of the mafia.

“daddy! daddy!” she shouts, running with something waving wildly in her hand. you’re two steps behind, her but she’s far too quick, too excited about her newest creation to stop. “look what i made!”

and though dazai is in the middle of an important meeting, his entire body language changes, and he’s turning towards the little girl, a big smile on his face. “what did you make today, cutie?” he asks, picking her up to pull into his lap.

“mommy showed me how to paint!” she shoves the canvas into his hand, a proud grin on her face as dazai brushes away her tangled hair. “look! it’s all of us!” she says, but her l’s still sound a little like w’s, and dazai can’t help but marvel at the fact that this sweet little girl has been raised by him.

she points to herself, a stick figure with an odd-shaped head, and nothing more than two lines of dark hair. “that’s me! and there’s you and mommy!” there’s a heart painted between your heads, and it makes dazai melt, the fact that even your daughter can see all the love you have for each other.

he wants to kiss you so badly, overwhelmed by affection for the two most important people in his life.

but then his little girl is pointing to a chaotic block of red and black, painted in splatters in the corner of the canvas. “and there’s uncle chuuya!”

dazai stares at it, blinks, then bursts into a fit of laughter that has his stomach aching. there’s a little hat on top of the mess of paint, and it sends dazai into another spiral.

“let me see that!” chuuya says, grumbling as he snatches the canvas out of dazai’s hand.

“what?” your daughter asks, frowning as she pokes her dad in the face, trying to get him to stop his laughter. “is it bad, uncle chuu?”

and chuuya, who previously had a grumpy expression, softens, not wanting to break the poor girl’s heart. “no, it’s real good,” he promises, even if he’s a bit offended by the portrayal, when she made her own family look so sweet. “it looks just like me!”

dazai chokes, but finally stops laughing to himself when you flick the back of his head.

“yay!” your daughter says, throwing her arms up high, grinning at chuuya’s praise. she’s so adorable that dazai has half a mind to squeeze her tight and never let her go. “see, mommy i told you they’d like it!”

you sigh, and take her from dazai’s arms. “you were supposed to show them after the meeting.” she’s still making grabby hands at her dad as you hold her, a pout forming while she squirms in your arms, trying to escape. “sorry, ‘samu. i know you’re busy today.”

dazai leans up, standing halfway out of his chair to kiss the frown off your face. “don’t apologize, darling.” he caresses your cheek softly, before looking back at his daughter, who just wants to be nosy and listen in to the adult conversations. “i always have time for my two favorite girls.”

you smile, softening as dazai ruffles his daughter’s hair.

“i want to stay here with you!” the little girl says, and dazai laughs, closing up her fists with his palm gently as she tries to climb onto him.

“i’ll be done in just a little bit, sweetie. then, how about we have a tea party? i’ll go get you some ice cream too! but you have to listen to your mom until then, okay?”

“i’ll listen, i promise!” she squeals in excitement, and then sobers, leaning back into your arms with a serious expression. “can you bring a special guest again? maybe akutagawa this time? he hasn’t been to a tea party yet!”

dazai’s lip twitches, but he doesn’t let the smile break free. still, the mere thought of akutagawa pouring tea for his daughter is enough to have him complying with her wishes. “sure, honey. i think i can arrange that.”

[sapphiremusings]

THE GIFT OF VENGEANCE | aemond targaryen

summary: Aemond replayed this image on a loop, squirming in his seat every time he got to the part where her eyes popped out of her skull.

Two eyes for his one, and the eight years he went without his revenge.

8.5k

cw: female!lucerys velaryon, au-modern setting, explicit sexual content, dubcon, graphic depictions of violence, sadist!aemond, obsessive!aemond, dark!aemond, choking, p in v, oral sex (fem!receiving), blood kink, biting, mentions of childhood trauma, breeding kink, uncle/niece, kinda DD:DE? not that dead though… u might be able to eat…

He hears her first, that soft tittering which haunted his childhood, piercing straight into the marred socket of his left eye, down the monstrous scar she had left him with.

She sits behind him, planked between her brothers, the only daughter of his half-sister, and therefore the most beloved. Maybe Jacaerys had whispered a joke, his lips sticky against the shell of her ear, laughter bubbling up her throat at whatever inane quip he made. A part of him, the one that dominated his childhood, leaving him cowering along the sand and crying fat tears into his mothers skirts, thinks that maybe they’re whispering about him– their stoic, one-eyed uncle, whom they once taunted and teased as children. Her amusement echoes around the corners of his mind, running along every ridge of his spine and settling deep within him, into an endless pool of festering hatred.

It had been years since Aemond had seen his half-sister and her litter of bastards, but now that he has, he’s ready to never see them again. The rift between their families is slowly starting to mend, threads of green and black pulling together to stitch up the hole that was left after Laena’s funeral, and the taking of his eye. His mother, once reverent in her hatred for Rhaenyra, now holds onto her arm with a newfound longing, fingers rubbing circles along the long scar she had given her that same night, when she had demanded an eye for an eye. It was one of his fondest memories– Lucerys crying out in terror as Alicent rushed towards her holding a dagger, her darling face twisted in fear, hiding behind her mothers skirts. Even when his empty socket was throbbing with an intense pain that not even milk of the poppy could cure, he still relished in the sight.

His father had been slowly dying for years before he finally succumbed to his illness, something Aemond had anticipated every time he walked past his room, the sour stench of rot and sickness permeating through the shut doors, along with the constant beeping of medical machinery. The funeral had been just as droll as his last days, with Aegon slumped beside him, sunglasses slipping down the bridge of his nose, stinking of the bottle he had downed beforehand. Helaena was busy slouched over, peering down at the iridescent beetle that crawled around her fingers, muttering to herself, ignorant to the snorts Aegon would give and the shushing their mother hissed. And Daeron, the youngest of his siblings, was perched between mother and their grandfather, in which he had spent most of his childhood with, a good boy who listened steadfastly to the sermon. Behind him, the Velaryon siblings sat, from eldest to youngest, hands clasped together as they mourned in a way Aemond hadn’t.

Her presence seared into him, burning down to his bones, etching itself into the very marrow of him. The gods were feeling particularly cruel this day, and he listened to the sound of his niece’s sniffling, soft sobs leaving her lips in the place of the laughter he was once used to. He had wanted nothing more than to turn around, to peer upon her darling face, flushed a splotchy pink as tears streamed down her cheeks, the tip of her nose red and her brown eyes wide and watery, eyelashes clumped with tears. He imagined himself grabbing ahold of the chub of her cheeks, squashed beneath his fingers as he plunges his thumbs into her eye sockets, the white mush mixing with her crimson blood, a beautiful concoction made just for him. The thought dizzied him, and while speeches were given and prayers were sung, Aemond replayed this image on a loop, squirming in his seat every time he got to the part where her eyes popped out of her skull. Two eyes for his one, and the eight years he went without his revenge.

He remembers how those eyes, big and glimmering with a certain mischief, would peer at him with the curiosity of a doe, as if trying to figure out what made him tick. A brush of her fingers against the back of his hand, the warmth of her breath against his jaw, her gangly limbs stumbling over his own. These small tortures she’d inflict on him, only to turn and laugh in the wake of his trauma, when their older brothers would taunt and tease him incessantly. She’d trail after them, giggling at their antics with a small hand held over her mouth, the apples of her cheeks flushed red in mirth. He had hated her for it. Her ignorance hurt more than any push or shove Aegon or Jacaerys could bestow upon him.

“D’you think mum will notice if I leave?” Aegon slurs in his ear, spittle fanning across his jaw as he leans heavily against his shoulder, already in a drunken stupor. “She seems rather occupied, right?”

Aemond has to force himself not to sneer, eye twitching in annoyance as Aegon sways on his unsteady feet. His older brother has long been the family’s drunken embarrassment, but to see him act this way in front of their half-sister and her clan irritates him more than it usually would. Aegon’s beady eyes are glazed over, partly focused on their mother, who stands at Rhaenyra’s side like a leech, mouth twisted into a pitiful smile as she hangs onto every word that leaves the silver-haired bitch’s lips.

Aemond hums. “She’d notice eventually.”

He expects Aegon to stumble off, his clipped tone hinting to an end of the conversation, but instead, he chuckles. “Our little niece has grown into quite the woman, wouldn’t you say?”

The brothers watch as she chats with Daemon, their uncle and her stepfather, his towering figure dwarfing her smaller one. As Targaryen’s, hailed from Old Valyria and of an ancient bloodline, rumored to be connected to fantastical dragons, incestuous relations were once common within their family. After the turn of the century, their house which was once full of riches and immense power, halted in this practice. That is, until Rhaenyra whored herself out to her father’s brother at a young age. Despite this scandal, his half-sister steadily remained their father’s favorite, even after her marriage to Daemon and the birth of two sons.

“Come, brother. There’s no need to play shy,” Aegon snickers in Aemond’s silence, the alcoholic stench of his breath lingering under his nose. “We are Targaryen’s after all… surely you’ve thought about giving it to her. I know I have. Especially after the… incident.”

“I have no taste for such depravity.”

His brother groans, hand slipping off his shoulder as he wobbles off, unsatisfied with Aemond’s answer. Before he can leave, Aemond reaches out to stop him, leaning down to whisper in his ear. “You’re embarrassing us, lēkia.”

Aegon merely shrugs him off, stumbling over his feet as he walks out of the room, barely making it through the archway without tripping. The sight makes him grumble, jawbone tense as he grinds his teeth, returning his attention to the window, where a mess of dark curls now sits, face hidden from view. He has only glimpsed her once, when leaving the funeral, her eyes watery and nose tinted a shade of pink, tear tracks staining her cheeks. She had smiled at him. The image has been playing on a loop inside his head, a never ending reel of her pretty face and that ringing laugh, ever since he saw it.

Lucerys Velaryon has always been beautiful, he thinks. The features he has always hated in her brother– that stubby nose, the freckles along their cheeks, their dark hair and dark eyes– sneering down at him as he pushed him to the ground, were always devastating in her. As children, he had imagined she was the Maiden reincarnated, the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes on, even when she’d laugh in his misery, carrying out her small tortures with every lingering look and every brush of her skin against his. After she took his eye, her face began to haunt him for different reasons, and his dreams of her becoming his bride turned into nightmares where her laugh would echo around his head while her blade cut into his flesh once again, this time taking his other eye as well. His hatred grew into a cruel thing, festering deep inside him until it started to rot through his bones, and every thought turned violent.

Rhaenyra would send their father pictures of her and her bastards, and he’d hang them around the house, in every hallway and on every fireplace mantle. Every year, they’d have a new picture, and as if to taunt him, Lucerys’ was always hung on the wall across from his bedroom door. He has always suspected Aegon of this pettiness, for his brother would often catch him glaring at the portrait from his doorway, eye tracing the curls of her hair and the curve of her jaw. Her eyes seemed to follow him as he walked, up until he would slam his door shut, locking her away from view. His hatred, still burning bright, had mixed with a different feeling that left a tight coil in his stomach, one which twisted more and more each time he saw that damned portrait.

Her face is etched along the inside of his eyelid, forced to see her every time he closes his eye. He has memorized every freckle, every curve and dip, even the milky scar that sits near her hairline from an accident when they were children, when Aegon had bumped into her, causing her to fall and hit her forehead against a jagged rock. The sight of her blood along the stones had nauseated him at the time, and so did her tears, fat as they dripped down her cheeks and into her wailing mouth. Now, he thinks he would quite like to see her blood again, to hear her cries as he inflicts the same pain she had once inflicted on him. His pants grow tighter at the thought, but he can’t find it in himself to be ashamed.

The air in the room grows thick, and he watches as Jacaerys stands above her, hand resting on the crown of her head, fingers slowly caressing the strands. She looks up with a small smile, eyes glowing in the midday sun that shines through the window next to her. His hands curl into fists, knuckles turning white as she laughs again, the sound ringing in his ears like a persistent bell. He quickly makes his way out of the stuffy room, shoulders tense as he passes by his mother and half-sister, neither of whom have looked away from one another since their reunion. The hallway is empty, and so is the looming staircase, which he climbs in stride, farther away from the center room and her lingering laugh. Beneath his eyepatch, his empty socket begins to throb, a searing pain shooting through the wound until his vision nearly goes white, and he’s left stumbling into his room, collapsing on the bed.

His curtains are still closed, shielding him away from the blazing sun, leaving his room dark with only slivers of light shining along the floor. He lays among rumpled sheets, tugging off the leather patch fastened around his head, bringing a shaky palm up to cover the aching hole. He is used to this pain, which plagues him more often than not, but within the presence of the one who created it, it seems to swell over him like a tidal wave. He barely hears the knock on his door, and when he doesn’t answer, a few seconds go by, until someone barges in.

Even in the dark he can still make out her wide eyes and the sheath of curls around her shoulders, her steps timid as she comes to a stop at the edge of his bed, fingers curled together in a nervous habit. “Are you alright, uncle?”

Her soft voice rouses him, his palm pressing deeper into his empty socket, while he looks up at her hovering figure. Her eyes dart over his face, lingering on his hand which covers his wound, and he wonders if she is remembering how he had covered his eye that night she had taken it, how he screamed and cried atop the sand, blood seeping through the cracks of his fingers, a perfect match to the blood dripping from the dagger in her small hands. When she quickly averts her gaze to a corner of his room, he feels a smug satisfaction rumbling in his chest.

“I… I’m sorry to bother you,” she murmurs, voice faltering slightly in his silence. “I was asked to come check on you.”

He hums. “By who?”

She’s quiet, eyes flicking back at him as if she is surprised by the sound of his voice. He merely stares back, palm growing sweaty in its position. Like a deer caught in headlights, her mouth opens and closes, before she finally speaks.

“Our mothers wish for our families to make amends. Given the death of Viserys.”

Aemond sits up at this, dropping his hand to his lap, stare hardening as her eyes dart to the now exposed scar, to the gaping hole where his eye once laid. She swallows, but makes no attempt to back away or close her eyes. Instead, Lucerys draws closer, head leaning over to get a better look at her work in the dim room. His stomach churns, fingers inching towards the eyepatch that sits beside him, yet he stops himself from grabbing it. No, he wants her to see what she did to him.

“You want to make amends?” he pushes, voice raspy from his dry throat. He sits up farther, leaning closer to her hovering frame. She nods. “And how do you plan on doing that, riñītsos?”

She looks at him in trepidation, lips tugging downwards and her brows furrowing above her dark eyes. The black dress she wears is short, hem stopping in the middle of her thighs, the material tight around her waist, and his eye snags on the motion of one of the straps falling off her shoulder, resting above a small freckle. She doesn’t seem to notice, or maybe she just doesn’t care, her stare not wavering as she makes no move to fix it. There’s a look in her eyes he’s never seen before, something gleaming and intoxicating, drawing him into a pool of soft velvet. He wants to hold them, those delicate globes, in his hands, feel the warm slime of them like two marbles.

In a quick motion, spurred on by his vivid imagination, he grabs ahold of her jaw, tugging her face close to his. “Will you take out your eye, hm? Give me what’s been owed all these years?”

Lucerys surprises him. Instead of falling back in fear, she merely smiles. It’s sardonic in nature, and he watches in trepidation as her eyes flicker down to rest upon his lips. So quick, he barely registers it, yet the action shocks a bolt of lightning down his spine, and his grip on her jaw tightens in a mix of dubiety and fury. Her smile only seems to grow wider at this, as if she is aware of every thought crossing his mind, nestling their way into the mush of his brain.

“Is that what you want, uncle? My eye?”

It is, he thinks. And so much more. He wasn’t lying when he told Aegon he has no taste for depravity, always the dutiful son despite what has befell him. Aemond tries hard to wash away his vengeful urges, the stirring of his cock when he imagines his little niece writhing in pain, covered in bruises and bleeding cuts, her eyes wide and tearful as she squeals like a piglet, under the might of his fists and his knife. His thoughts have only grown darker, crueler than he cared to admit, with flashes of his suckling on her open wounds like his mothers tit when he was a babe, warm blood resting along his tongue instead of milk. Nothing would taste as sweet, he was sure of it.

With a tug, Lucerys topples over him, her body plush against his own, and he quickly flips them over, his knees up against her ribcage. Her face is flushed from exertion, her hands scrambling against his chest and shoulders, legs kicking out from under him, though her efforts are in vain as Aemond merely tightens his grip around her. Stubbornly, her lips pursed into a sour smile, she stops her struggling and stares up at him in defiance.

“Go ahead then,” she goads, raising her chin and bringing her hands up to rest against his back, fingernails digging through his shirt and into his skin. He hopes they leave marks. “I won’t scream. I won’t fight. I refuse to give you the satisfaction of my pain, uncle.”

A deep, twisted rage sits within him, rising in plumes of smoke like the molten lava from an exploding volcano, and as he glares down at his sweet niece, the image of their homeland flashes across his vision. Their ancestors once lived on the island of Valyria, a prosperous place that had been home to the largest mount, which erupted and destroyed the land, as well as all those who resided there. A few Targaryen’s were lucky to escape just a few years before, and he thinks about this luck now, bringing a hand up to wrap around the width of Lucerys’ neck. She keeps her word; she doesn’t fight back, doesn’t try to scream, even as his fingers tighten enough to bruise, cutting off her air circulation. Tears gather at the corners of her eyes, and Aemond finds himself groaning, arousal splashing over him like ice water.

He removes his hand. Lucerys gasps for air, nails no longer digging into his skin, hands now limp around his waist. Her gaze looks down, chest heaving as she slightly tilts her head, focusing on Aemond’s lap. With a flush, he realizes she’s staring at his erection, which is pushing against his trousers, its heaviness resting against her abdomen. Her eyes glimmer at the sight, pink lips tugging upwards into another smug smile, hands inching towards his thighs that are still wrapped around her. When her fingers press against his thighs, he jolts back.

She sits up with a small laugh. “I thought you wanted to put out my eye, Aem.”

The nickname, one he hasn’t heard since they were children, running along the beach together, toes nestling along the sand, salty waves lapping against their ankles. It makes his chest twinge, an ache forming under his ribs, and he quickly turns away, resting his hands on the wooden surface of his desk. “Get out.”

It’s quiet, with only the sound of their families downstairs, chatting and laughing, which does nothing to help the tension of the room. He hears her sigh, short legs twisting beneath her as she climbs off his bed, shoes hitting the floor softly. She lingers at the door, hand resting on the doorknob while her eyes burn holes into his back, willing him to say something, but he doesn’t. He merely waits in silence, solemn in the dark corner of his room, among his books and journals. It’s only when he hears the door open and shut, and the sound of her footsteps retreating down the hallway and onto the stairs, does he sit back on his bed, lowering himself down to press his nose against the spot where she once laid, the scent of her still fresh on his sheets.

*

She’s taunting him, eyes avoiding his own one-eyed stare, dark hair fanning over her face every time she turns to speak to her brother, as if she’s hiding from him. As if she hadn’t smiled as he sat atop her, hands around her neck, a threat on the tip of his tongue. Now, she sits across from him, at the far end of the long dining table, nothing but wood and various dishes separating them.

Perhaps he should’ve taken her eye when he had the chance, he thinks. In the moment, he had doubted she wouldn’t have screamed. He knows the pain of losing an eye all too well, searing and bone-deep. Despite her promises, Lucerys Velaryon would’ve cried out the minute his blade touched her skin, and their families would have rushed into the room and stopped him in his act of revenge. No, if he was to take her eye, he needed to do so in a secluded place, where no one could interrupt him.

Helaena, sitting beside him, mumbles something, her hand feather-light against his own. He looks over at her, and she merely lifts out her other palm, showing him the fuzzy caterpillar that slowly moves along her skin. He can’t help but smile, though his sister doesn’t notice as she keeps her lilac gaze on the small critter she holds, moving her hand from him to run a finger gently down its spine. Next to her, Aegon snorts in his cup, taking another swig before leaning back in his chair, a slimy grin on his face.

“Have you given any more thought to what I said earlier, little brother?”

His words are slurred, and Aemond decides to ignore him, lifting his own cup to his lips and taking a sip. In the middle, his mother sits beside Rhaenyra, their heads bent towards one another, lips pulled into wistful smiles, as if they are old friends, or perhaps lovers. Daemon had gone home, taking their three youngest with him, as well as his twin daughters, leaving his niece-wife and her two eldest in the hands of the woman they both once despised.

Aegon, never one for taking hints, continues. “If you don’t want her, I’ll be happy to show our dear niece a good time. I have hopes she’ll be… pure.”

Clenching his jaw, Aemond finally looks over at his drunken brother, giving him the attention he seemingly craves. Aegon smirks, head tipped forward as he leans over Helaena, who is still too busy with her caterpillar. From the corner of his eye, he can see their mother looking over at her eldest son cautiously, though when Rhaenyra whispers something in her ear, she looks away.

Aemond opens his mouth to respond, but is interrupted by the sound of Lucerys’ laughter, and the breaking of glass. Him and Aegon advert their gazes to the opposite end of the table, where Jacaerys stands with reddened cheeks, holding the broken stem of a wine glass. Lucerys is hunched over, laughter bubbling out of her lips, tears dotting the corners of her eyes, reminding Aemond of when he had his hands around her throat only a few hours earlier. The thought makes him shift in his seat, a sliver of heat darting through his abdomen.

“Jace… oh my God,” she stutters out, still laughing, hand lifting up as she shows the table her palm, where a shard of glass sticks out, blood trickling down her wrist. Jace immediately darts forward, grabbing her arm, tilting her hand towards him so he can inspect the wound, eyebrows furrowed in worry. “It’s fine, brother. I’m okay!”

Rhaenyra also rounds the table, cradling her daughter's head against her chest, smoothing a hand down her curls. Lucerys continues to laugh, though it slowly starts to turn into giggles, which eventually die down until she’s left hiccupping, ruddy cheeks stained with tears from her outburst. His mother had run off, and now she returns, first aid kit in hand, which she gives to his half-sister, who puts her hand on Lucerys’ shoulder, pushing her to sit back in her chair. Aemond watches as her blood continues a path down her arm, before beginning to drip onto the surface of the table, leaving small dots of crimson.

She watches with watery eyes as her mother grabs a pair of tweezers, going for the glass jutting out her skin. “Shh, it’s okay, my darling girl.”

The shard is slowly pulled out, a bubbling of more blood rising to the surface, and Aemond watches with a hard cock. It’s placed on a napkin atop the table, next to the pool of blood that now seeps into the wood, yet no one moves to clean it up. Or maybe his mother does, her scabbed fingers wiping the liquid away with a cloth, always one for cleanliness. Aemond wouldn’t know, as his eye is trained on the cut along Lucerys’ palm, as her own mother tends to it. A wipe is swiped across, turning from white to red, and then comes the gauze, which is wrapped around continuously, until the blood ceases to seep through the material. The whole time, his little niece sits without flinching, eyes watching him as he watches her.

When she’s finished, the wound now covered, the room is quiet for just a moment, before a booming clap of thunder echoes against the walls, and the sound of pouring rain pings off the roof. Jace is on his knees beside his sister, hands holding her wrist, whispering apologies in her ear, ones which she doesn’t reply to as she continues to stare across the table. It isn’t until Jace follows her gaze that she replies, before picking up her fork and stabbing at a lone carrot that sits on her plate, bringing it up to her lips as she finally looks away, giving her older brother a smile.

Dinner continues as before, and by now, Aegon has slumped over his chair, fast asleep in his drunkenness. Their mother, surprisingly, pays him no mind, and neither does Helaena, who excuses herself to her room, eyes still focused on the crawling insect she holds. Rhaenyra continuously peeks over at Lucerys, face glossed in worry, but she merely listens to her brother talk, occasionally nodding her head or laughing softly at whatever it is he was droning on about. With nothing to distract him, Aemond is silent in his suffering as he watches her, eye flickering down to her wrapped palm every few minutes, as if willing it to peel off and show him that red slice once more.

The storm has gotten worse, lightning flashing through the closed windows nearly every second, the thunder becoming so loud that it interrupts his mother and half-sisters conversation, the both of them wondering aloud on whether it will pass or continue through the night. It is already dark out, the ticking clock reading nine o’clock, and it is his mother who proposes the idea.

“Please, Rhaenyra,” her fingers rub against her scar, eyes pleading. “Stay. It is too dangerous to leave now, in the dark while it’s storming so heavily. We have more than enough guest rooms for you, Luke, and Jace to stay in.”

His mothers use of Lucerys’ nickname jolts him. Beside him, Aegon lets out a snore.

Despite her wariness, Rhaenyra agrees to stay the night, and Aemond thinks he has never seen his mother so happy before. With a huff, he stands, and when his mother doesn’t even look at him, too busy staring at his whore half-sister with stars in her eyes, he takes that as his cue to leave. He glances over at Lucerys once more, both her and Jace now watching him, their matching eyes and noses making him want to sneer. Instead, he makes his way out of the dining room, his steps heavy as he trudges up the stairs, head throbbing in tune with the pattering rain.

*

He can barely sleep, his body restless as he tosses and turns among rumpled sheets, nose twitching against the scent of her that still lingers. Aemond swears he can feel her, even as she sleeps just down the hall, and his skin is slick with sweat, a pulse running through his swelling cock. He teases himself, brushing a hand between his thighs, coiling away when he only gets harder, silver hair sticking to his flushed face as he lays there with the heavy weight of shame bearing down on his chest. His only solace being the plip-plop of the rain against his window, the storm now passed, leaving only that soft sound in its wake, soothing along his headache.

Something wriggles beneath the skin of his chest, insistent as he sits up, looking around the dark room, a warning bell ringing within his ears. When he looks out the window, a flash of white crosses his vision, and for a moment, he thinks the storm has started again. It isn’t until he sees her curls, slightly damp and sticking to her shoulders, does he realize that it’s her, not the storm. She walks across the backyard, towards the small woods that sits behind their estate, clad in nothing but her nightgown. Without thinking, Aemond is slipping on a shirt and his shoes, his steps rushed as he sneaks down the stairs and out the backdoor, gaze trained on her retreating figure.

The rain is merely a drizzle now, yet it still dampens his clothes and hair, leaving raindrops along his skin, as he walks between trees, swiping at hanging branches and leaves, holding his breath as he stalks after her. She doesn’t seem to hear him, as she continues on, not faltering in her pace. The path she’s leading looks familiar to him, and he realizes that it’s the same path they used to trek as children. It leads to an old lake, full of tiny fish and swampy water, which they used to dare one another to jump in, all too afraid of what lurked below the muck. When they make it to the clearing, Lucerys doesn’t hesitate to walk up to the bank, standing along withered stones and tall weeds. The sight of the water stops Aemond in his tracks, a memory rushing to him like a vision.

It had been the hottest summer of their young lives that year, and they all spent it among the trees, lounging under the cool air the shade provided, playing trolls and goblins. When they had first discovered the lake, it was Aegon who pushed Aemond in. He had flailed within the dirty water, pale arms splashing through algae and brine as he gasped out for help, not yet knowing how to swim. Jace and Aegon had stood on the bank laughing, and to his horror, Lucerys had disappeared. It wasn’t until she rushed out from the trees, Uncle Daemon in tow, that Aemond was saved, laying along the grass and coughing up water and vomit, shivering under the stares of those around him, Daemon’s hand hard as it slapped his back. His mother had scolded Aegon, who swore he didn’t remember that his younger brother couldn’t swim, and he only became more cruel in his anger after she grounded him.

As he remembers the look on Lucerys’ young face, pinched in worry, cheeks flushed pink and bright eyes teary, he thinks perhaps he had just imagined that part. It was what he once dreamed most of; his niece caring for him. He knows this is far from the truth, as she spins around, arms held out in front of her, gaze locked on his lingering figure. Her lips curl into a sweet smile, and she wiggles her fingers, as if she is beckoning him over. Aemond finds that his rage has made another appearance, replacing his pondering with a rising fury as he makes his way towards her, swaying on her bare feet, her grin brighter than the full moon in the sky above them.

He reaches out for her, hands tight against her arms, and he watches with a curious gaze as her flesh pebbles beneath his touch, her damp skin dotted with raindrops and gooseflesh. Her head is heavy as she beams up at him, eyes hazy with sleep, her lashes fluttering under his stare. She whispers his name, lips plush around the word, dropping her head to rest against his thumping chest, nose nuzzling along the cotton of his shirt. For a moment, Aemond allows himself to revel in her warmth, his own nose resting within her hair, dark curls tickling his cheeks, and he inhales deeply, the smell of lavender and honey and rain intoxicating his senses. Lucerys presses herself closer, and as the minutes tick by, he realizes she has been sleepwalking.

Aemond has only heard tales about Lucerys’ supposed sleepwalking habit. Years ago, according to Rhaenyra, Lucerys had nearly walked out the top window in her room, her eyes open wide in an unwavering stare, bare feet pressed against the sill. It had taken Daemon picking her up and carrying her to her bed to get her to safety, and the next morning, when asked about what had happened the previous night, Lucerys hadn’t a clue what they were talking about. Daemon took to installing locks on all the windows around their home, and after that, Aemond hadn’t heard much else about his niece’s sleepwalking. He figured it was a thing of the past, something she has grown out of in the shedding of her adolescence.

Now, she stands slumped against his chest, breathing steady and her lips parted as soft sighs and snores escape her throat. The rain picks up, drizzling harder than before, and a rumbling of thunder is heard along the horizon, yet Lucerys looks peaceful in her slumber, even as Aemond’s grip on her becomes tighter. A twisted part of him thinks about how easy it would be to hurt her now, as she lays in the mercy of his hands, the same in which once easily wrapped around her throat and squeezed until her face was red. Another part of him, one much darker and persistent, wishes to slip the thin straps of her nightgown down her shoulders, to suckle on her pert nipples which press against the sheer satin, to dip a hand between her supple thighs and caress the hottest part of her.

Her neck is bare, and as he looks down, he realizes with sudden certainty that there is no one here to stop him. The moon is aglow, locusts buzzing within the grass, an occasional hoot from a lone owl, and they are in the middle of the woods, in a place unknown by anyone but them as children. She is pliant within his hold, lashes resting against her cheeks, heartbeat steady within her delicate chest. It is something he had once dreamed of, swathed in sweat-soaked sheets, cock spent along his taut stomach. And with a single dip of his chin, he is able to press his lips along the skin of her neck, right below her thrumming pulse.

She doesn’t stir, not even as his lips form a path down to her collarbones, the bones jutting out just enough for him to bite around, the feel of it between his teeth making him groan. His tongue slicks against the mark, dipping into each indent, before making its way up to her jaw, where he nibbles and sucks on the skin. His hands have moved to rest upon her hips, but as she starts to slip from his grasp, he wraps his arms around her waist, pressing her close to him once more, her breasts plush against his soaked shirt, nipples scratching between them.

He barely hears the gasp. “A-Aemond…?”

Her hands come up to his shoulders, pushing frantically as he bites down on the skin of her jaw, the sharp ache making her yelp. When he tastes blood, he finally softens, lips now wrapped around the skin, tongue lapping over the small wound. As Lucerys continues to squirm, fingernails now digging into his skin, he wrestles her to the ground, hands squelching in the mud beneath her as he holds himself above her, lips stained with a single drop of blood.

“Where are we? How did…” she trails off, realization clicking as she takes in the dark sky and the pajamas she still wears. Her eyes are glossy as she gazes up at him, the mark on her jaw shining like a beacon, encouraging him to press himself against her again. This time, she doesn’t struggle, still confused as she looks around the clearing, catching sight of the familiar lake.

His cock is pulsating as it rests between them, and he barely notices as he cants his hips to rub along her clothed cunt, white-hot pleasure shooting up his spine, making him close his eye and press his lips to her throat once again. Her breath hitches at his movements, her own legs unconsciously spreading wider, opening herself up for him to rut against her like a hound in heat. Shame twinges within his brain, yet Lucerys wraps an arm around his back, as if encouraging his ministrations, and he forces it to the back of his mind as he digs his fingers into the slick mud, hips rocking faster. She whines out, “Aem.”

In a frenzy, he brings a hand up to paw at her dress, tugging down the straps until he bares her breasts, mud staining the fabric and her skin. His lips are quick to wrap around them, going back and forth between the two, before slipping a pert nipple into his mouth, groaning at the taste of her. He imagines them swollen with milk, her stomach round with his child, her hands smoothing down his hair as he nurses from her, her sweet liquid warm as it pools in the pit of him. He grows harder at the thought, teeth nibbling at the bud, his body weight crashing atop her as he brings his other hand over to caress her other breast, fingers tweaking the lonely nipple. Her back seems to arch beneath him, her own hips matching the rhythm of his, her breath hot against his head.

“Please,” she whispers, tugging at the strands of his hair. When her pulling becomes harsher, he allows her to tug him up, her mouth agape as she tilts her chin, searching for his lips. She kisses him, wanton as she juts out her hips against his, hands frantic as they run down his shoulders and under his soaked shirt, nails scratching along his skin. Her tongue slips over his, and he thinks she tastes like the sweetest poison, of cherries and arsenic.

He pushes himself up once more, knees digging into the earth beneath him, and he doesn’t think as he rips off her dress, pulling it down her legs in one swipe. Her underwear is purple, a pretty shade of lilac that reminds him of his own eye, with a little rose in the middle, now stained with mud and grass as she writhes, trying to hide the patch of wetness that seeps through the dainty fabric. Aemond is quick to lean down, pressing his nose against her navel, the smell of rain and sleep tainting her flesh, and he gives her a small lick, from her belly button to the hem of her underwear. She whines, bare chest heaving as she looks down at him, eyes pleading underneath a cloud of wariness, brows furrowed as if she is fighting a battle within her mind. When he comes face to face with her clothed cunt, he doesn’t hesitate to press his tongue against the spot of her arousal, the cotton soft along his tongue as he laps at it, trying to taste her slickness.

“Iksan jāre naejot qogralbar ao,” he grits out over the rain, his cock aching as he lays flat against it, head still between her thighs. “Yn jaelan naejot sylutegon ao ēlī.” (I am going to fuck you. But I want to taste you first).

He doesn’t ponder over whether she knows High Valyrian, the language of their ancestors, but when she lets out a moan, her head nodding against the ground, a sense of pride settles within him. He pulls the last remaining piece of clothing off, bringing his hands to her thighs, which he pushes up so that her knees are pressed against her chest, leaving her wide open for him. A groan leaves him at the sight of her wet cunt, and when he lays his tongue flat against her pearl, he nearly creams his pajama pants at the pulsing of her and the taste of her arousal. Like a man starved, his tongue laps over the whole of her, licking and sucking as she writhes and moans, a flush starting from her chest to her hairline washing over her like a veil. His hips grind into the earth below him, his eye focused on her wet face, strands of her dark hair stuck to her cheeks and across her gaping lips. He thinks she might look even prettier like this than when she cries.

She’s wanton in her moans, head lolling back and forth, eyes squeezed shut as Aemond presses a finger into her wet cavern, his own eye fluttering shut at the tightness, a ring of soft muscles clenching down. His tongue focuses on her pearl, which throbs as he flicks and presses against it, engorged in its pleasure, and as he crooks a finger up inside her, her hips buck up in a spasm, though the grip he has on her legs, which still press up to her chest, stops her from moving. A loud whimper leaves her lips, and her peak comes quickly, her arousal gushing around his finger. When she finally calms down, going slack under him, he pulls his finger out and immediately licks her cream off it, before going back in to clean up her now sensitive cunt.

Her fingers tangle within his hair, tugging to pull him off her as she wriggles under his licks, and when he finally pulls away, her grip is strong as she whines before he gives in and rests his weight above her, lips hovering her own. Her tongue comes out to lap at them, small kitten licks that grow more greedy, until she’s slipping between them and pressing him close to her. She groans, perhaps at the taste of herself on his tongue, her hips already jutting back up against him, brushing over his aching cock, desperate for more like his own ravenous whore. His hands are quick as they push down his muddied pants, cock springing up against his soaked abdomen, bringing the head to rub along the seam of her. Lucerys seems to tense under him at the feeling, but he pays no mind as he presses the tip against her tight hole, still slick and warm even after her peak.

“Aem-“ she gasps out, hands against his shoulders, eyes wide in fear at the feeling of his cock pressing into her. “I…”

He slams his hips flush against her with a grunt, a yelp escaping her quivering mouth, fingernails digging deep into the cotton of his shirt. Tears immediately start to stream down her flushed cheeks in rivulets, soft sobs building up within her closed throat. Aemond has never felt such dizzying pleasure, white hot and shooting through every nerve in his body, until he feels like he’s aflame. He doesn’t falter as Lucerys cries, his pace fast and deep, pulling out until just the tip of him remains, before slamming back in, his sack slapping against her ass. When he looks down, he can see her blood on his cock, and the sight of it, as well as the confirmation of her virginity, makes him grow frenzier, tongue running along her salty cheeks, moaning at the taste of her tears. He wants to bite her, to draw blood, to taste the very marrow of her.

A growl leaves him as he bites down against her wet cheek, the chub of it soft between his teeth. Her hands are quick to shove at his chest, though her moans and the sounds of her slickness, sticky against him, makes him believe his sweet little niece likes it just as much as he does. When he pulls away, he revels in the sight of the marks he left, bright pink and sure to turn a purple-blue after. Her sobs slowly turn into hiccups, which turn into moans that she tries to hold back with a bite to her lips, but when Aemond wraps one hand around her throat, they turn into gasps. He squeezes hard, holding for just a few seconds, before slackening his grip, letting her breathe if only for a moment, hips digging painfully into the back of her thighs with every thrust.

“You’re h-hurting me, uncle,” Lucerys cries out, doe eyes red from her tears, peering up at his grunting face above her own flushed one. “Kostilus.” (Please).

“Mazemilā ziry hae se sȳz byka līve iksā,” he sneers, bringing his body down to rest against her shivering frame, arms wrapping around her back, slick along the mud. He presses her flush to him, and she is quick to hold onto him, legs curling below the crook of his arse. “Mirre ñuhon.” (You will take it like the good little whore you are. All mine).

Her moans are sticky against his neck, lips brushing along the damp skin every time she opens her mouth, the sounds ringing in his ears above the pittering of the rain and the grumbles of occasional thunder. His fingers scratch down her back, hips stuttering as her cunt squeezes around his cock, warm and slick and unwilling to let him go. When she pulls her head up from its spot against his neck, hands scrambling to rest along his jaw, bringing his face up to look at her, eyes zoning in on the empty socket where his left eye once sat, it is then that he realizes he didn’t put on his eyepatch. He nearly shrinks into himself, jerking his chin away from her grasp so he can sink his face back against her hair, but she doesn’t relent. Instead, her fingers trace along the jagged scar, lips open in awe as she admires the work of her own hand.

Lucerys presses her lips right below the gaping hole of his eye, tongue gentle as she licks up the length of his scar. With her mouth resting just above the dark cavern, she whispers the words he has always wanted to hear, “I’m sorry, Aem. Iksan vaoreznuni.” (I am sorry).

He pushes her down to the wet ground once more, head slamming into the slush below, and she lets out a squeal, hands scrambling to push herself up. His hips snap into hers, palms tight against her wrists as he holds her down, vision a red haze. It isn’t enough. Her apology means nothing to him now, all these years after. Years spent mourning the loss of his eye, ruminating in the humiliation and injustice of that night, listening to the whispers of his classmates as they pondered over what sight sat beneath his leather eyepatch. Years of sharp pain shooting through his empty socket, of headaches that never went away, of dreaming of the one who caused this agony, her pretty face and that ringing laughter. Nothing she can say will ever be enough.

Tears stream down her pink cheeks, repainting the tracks left previously, her moans now gasps of pain and pleasure. He sits on his knees, her ass across his thighs, hips lifted upwards as he fucks her pliant body, like his own little doll. Her hair is matted with a mix of rain and mud, lips quivering and her eyes squeezed shut, a flush of shame and arousal settling across her bare chest. She looks so beautiful, so much like that young girl who has haunted his dreams since they first met, when she was just a babe and he a little boy who couldn’t yet form a sentence.

One of his hands slides up her bruised wrist, to rest along the gauze-covered palm, drawn to the wound that will scar her. His fingers dig beneath the wrap, lifting it up until the cut is bared, and as he feels her clench around him again, a breathy moan leaving her lips as her release washes over her, he leans his head down to lick along the seam. Dried blood flakes away, and as he presses his wet muscle harder, the cut reopens, blood blossoming out of it like a stream of water, which he doesn’t hesitate to lap over. His own release hits him like a tidal wave, the taste of her blood intoxicating him as he presses into her with one final thrust, his other hand going to grab onto her waist, thumb brushing against the bulge of his cock in her abdomen. She lays motionless as he uses her, until only small dots of blood remain along the reopened wound, and his cock has softened inside her, his seed hot against her womb.

Aemond rolls off of her with a grunt, hissing as her spent cunt seems to grasp at him as he pulls out. Between her thighs is a mess of blood and semen, a mix of their essences wet along his cock, and he almost hardens at the sight. He brings his fingers up to gather the pooling of the liquid that seeps out from her hole, roughly pushing it back in with a groan, her whimper sending another wave of arousal down his spine. She twitches beneath him, and when he is confident that his seed has stuck, he removes himself from her, rolling over onto his back and gazing up at the full moon, no longer covered by storm clouds. Beside him, Lucerys is quiet, only an occasional sniffle, and it seems like they lay there for hours, not speaking, not moving. Just waiting, three eyes focused on the night sky above them.

When she finally gets up, he watches with a hazy eye as she pulls on what remains of her nightgown, now a tattered, muddied mess of silk. She starts to walk off on shaky legs, but she pauses, turning back to look down at him.

“It was an accident, you know,” her voice is raspy, throat sore from the moans and cries that left her lips that night. “We were kids… I thought you were gonna kill Jace. I didn’t know. I’m so sorry, Aemond.”

He doesn’t say anything. She waits a few more moments, before finally walking off, her figure disappearing among the trees, leaving him alone by the still lake. He brings his fingers up to his lips, still wet from their mixed concoction of semen and blood, and takes his time licking them off. The taste is enough to slowly fill the gaping cavern in his chest, one full of rage and violence, images of his niece's body beneath him, naked in the moonlight, flushed from head to toe, racing through his mind in a kaleidoscope of memories.

Perhaps it was enough. Her apology, those saccharine words that dripped from her tongue like honey. He thinks maybe he can forgive her.

An eye for her innocence, for the blood that stains his cock and teeth.

*

a/n: this is crossposted to ao3 (user finalgrls)! kinda the darkest thing i’ve written so far, but it’s definitely the work im proudest of. i’d LOVE any feedback, even if it’s negative <3 i hope u enjoyed!

[silent-stories]

𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝟑 𝐀.𝐌

Pairing: Eddie x F!Hopper!Reader (adopted or not)

Summary: Your dad would never approve of your relationship with Eddie, so you sneak out for a night walk in the woods with him.

00.13 a.m

"Where are you going?" Eleven's voice reached your ears as you got out of your bed trying not to make the slightest noise that could disturb the silent night.

You turned around as your bare feet touched the wooden floor, and you found your little sister sitting on her bed looking at you quizzically and half asleep, her wavy hair falling over her eyes.

You sighed, staring at the window you'd intended to jump down that night, the moonlight was filtering through the glass and reflecting off the floor as you walked over to El's bed. "Can you keep a secret like a good sister?"

She thought about it for a moment. "Am I not a good sister?"

"What? No, of course you are, it's just that... Dad doesn't have to know, okay?" You explained, whispering and hoping that Hopper in the room next to yours was snoring loud enough to drown out your voices.

El nodded.

"I'm seeing a boy."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Is he the boy with pretty eyes you were talking about last week?"

You froze, either El was a very smart kid or you weren't paying attention at all when you were talking about Eddie with her. "Yeah...yeah he is."

"Why Hopper doesn't have to know?"

"Because when your dad is a cop and your boyfriend has already been arrested three times, family dinners might get a little awkward."

El nodded, thinking silently. "Why was he arrested?"

"The first time because he caught him selling dr..." You stopped, thinking that these weren't things El should have known, cursing the thousand questions he could every time in your mind. "It's not really important."

"He's not a bad guy, is he? Hopper says he only arrests bad guys."

A corner of your lips lifted at the thought of El worrying about you. "No. Absolutely not. A lot of people think he is but...he's not. He's sweet and...he cares about me."

A smile appeared on the girl's lips. "He's like Mike!"

"Like Mike?" You scoffed. "He's way better than Mike."

She laughed, shaking her head.

"But it's very important that you don't tell dad, okay?"

She nodded. "Okay. Good luck with the boy with pretty eyes."

You giggled, bringing a hand to ruffle her hair. "You are the best sister ever."

You pulled on the boots you'd left in the corner of the room and grabbed a jacket off a chair.

El waved to you as you slowly opened the window and sat on the edge, breathing in the fresh but not too cold air of the night.

You waved back to her and smiled before jumping out the window, your boots making a soft thud as they hit the wood of the porch.

You looked around for a moment, enjoying the silence of the night which wasn't really a silence, after all.

You could hear an owl in the distance, the croaking of frogs and the squealing of some of the small animals that lived in the woods. Two bats flew over you one after the other almost as if they were playing and you instinctively ducked so as not to collide with them.

You looked around, searching for the spot among the trees and bushes where the path that would take you to where Eddie told you you would meet started.

You breathed in the air that smelled of moss and wet grass. Then, after taking one last look at your house, you went into the woods.

00.39 a.m

When you saw him, his back was leaning against a big old looking tree, he was wearing a black shirt with a red flannel over it. As soon as he saw you a big smile appeared on his face as he walked towards you.

You'd always loved the way his face lit up whenever he saw you, as if just your presence made him happier.

It was night and probably someone would have been frightened to see a figure in the woods walking towards them, in the dark of the night illuminated only by the light of the moon, but not you, you would have recognized him even without the slightest light.

"Hey, princess. I almost thought your dad caught you." He said as he reached up to you and his lips met yours in a quick but soft kiss.

"Baby, you know I love you-"

"But?" His expression suddenly turned concerned.

"But you could have chosen a more recognizable place, I walked around this fucking wood for half an hour before I found you." You chuckled before pushing him back towards you, placing a hand behind his neck as your fingers tangled with his hair. "But you're worth it."

When your lips parted, Eddie looked at the tree he was leaning against some moments bofore. "But I described this tree to you perfectly!"

You rolled your eyes. "No, you told me it looked like Treebeard from the Lord of the Rings. And trust me, even though I've read it dozens of times it wasn't that easy to find."

He chuckled as he put his arm around your shoulders and started your night walk.

"Did you just say you've read The Lord of the Rings dozens of times?"

You huffed but raised an arm to intertwine your fingers with his. "That wasn't the point."

When you felt his fingers brushing your face, you turned your head towards his hand to leave a kiss on his knuckles.

A smirk was on his lips now. "I knew my girlfriend was a nerd."

1.26 a.m

"She has hair like yours, but her ears are pointed, because, you know, she's an elf. She's kind and always willing to help her companions but it's best not to make her mad because she's also a ruthless killer who won't hesitate to cut your insides to pieces if you do hurt her family." Eddie continued to tell you about his latest DnD campaign, describing the new characters in great detail, his arm still around your shoulders as you continued walking through the woods, following the path.

When you went out at night to meet him in the woods like that, sometimes you were afraid that you would get lost and that you would never be able to get out again, but then you always remembered that you had Eddie by your side and that if something like that happened he would turn him into a another one of your adventures.

"Her eyes the exact same shade as yours and-"

"Wait…did you base one of your characters on me?" You asked with a smirk.

"Maybe?" His uncertain tone let you know that the sincere answer would be yes.

"Well, what an honor, I wonder if-"

A sudden rustle coming from the bushes in front of you made you stop, your last words echoing in the silence of the woods.

"Did you hear that?" You asked, your voice reduced to a whisper.

"Yeah." Eddie's arm was softly pushing you behind him, as if to protect you from some possible danger but you stopped him and stayed beside him even after his glare.

"What if it's a wolf?" You asked as you continued to stare at the bushes moving.

"There are no wolves in Indiana."

"How do you know?"

"I've never seen one."

"Yes, because they usually hide behind bushes like that one."

When the snout of a weird animal popped up in the branches, your grip on Eddie's arm loosened.

"Oh, it doesn't look like a wolf."

A raccoon scrurred towards you, sniffing the ground probably looking for something to eat.

"Hey Buddy!" Eddie exclaimed as if he was saying hi to an old friend.

You brought your arms to your sides. "What? Do you know the raccoon?"

"I think it's the same one who's always hanging around the trailer area. Sometimes I leave him food." He explained with a smile on his lips as he knelt down and the raccoon approached him curiously.

"Eddie, it could carry some disease."

"Oh, shut up. Look how cute he is."

"All right, Snow White, go ahed. Don't come complaining to me when you have rabies." You commented as Eddie patted the raccoon's head like it was a puppy.

Eddie Munson.

The boy that people thought was a cult leader who worshiped the devil.

The boy who tried to hide his true feelings and his soft side to protect himself, creating an armor around himself, through which only those who really knew him could see.

Eddie Munson, who was called a "freak" by almost every single Hawkings resident, was kneeling in the mud to pet a raccoon, claiming he was "cute".

When he stood up, you instinctively pushed him towards you for a kiss, his lips were warm even if the night was cool.

He smiled. "What was this for?"

"Because you are so fucking pretty."

He scoffed. "Pretty? I'm not pr-"

He didn't have time to reply that your lips were on his again."Don't argue with me."

A kind of squeak, after a few minutes, made you separate.

Between your feet, walked four little raccoons, their black and white muzzles pointed at you, as if asking what the hell you were doing in the woods in the middle of the night.

"I think your raccoon is a mom."

Eddie chuckled when one of them tried to climb up your leg, falling after a few seconds.

"Who is Snow White now?"

"Oh, shut up."

2.00 a.m

"I don't wanna do that anymore." You said as you sat next to Eddie at the foot of one of the trees around Lover's Lake.

The moonlight reflected off the water surface creating an atmosphere of complete calm and the croaking of the frogs was all around you.

Eddie turned to you with a worried expression, you could almost see his anxiety suddenly rise and you cursed your choice of words.

"Are you breaking up with me?"

"No!" You exclaimed, perhaps a little too quickly. "No, absolutely not. I meant hiding."

"Hiding?"

"Going out at night, you know. I want to tell my father about us." You explained.

A gust of wind rustled the leaves and nearly drowned out Eddie's only word. "Oh."

"Is that a problem?"

"Not for me. It sure will be for him though. I don't think he likes me very much." He added the last part with a not-quite-genuine chuckle, probably thinking back to all the times he'd been arrested before.

"Eddie, I love you. So he'll get over it."

He pulled you closer to him, until you sat between his legs, and planted a kiss on your head as you rested your back against his chest. "I love you too" He murmured. "But I'm not sure your family would approve."

"Oh, my sister already knows about us." You commented, saying it like it was nothing important, but waiting for his reaction.

"What?"

You raised your head slightly towards him, your nose brushed his cheek.

"She caught me sneaking out." You explained. "But she said she's happy for us."

Eddie let out what felt like a sigh of relief.

"Good, because I don't want the little girl with superpowers against me." He chuckled.

"I would protect you with my life." You were joking, even though what you were saying wasn't too far from reality.

He giggled when you dropped a few kisses on his neck, since you couldn't reach his face from your position.

"And what about your father?" he asked after a few moments.

"He's never even given you a fine. And trust me, he usually gives a lot of them. I think he kinda likes you already."

"But he put handcuffs on me once."

"And you ran away and kept them."

His laughter echoed through the trees as his chest vibrated against your back. "I did."

"No, but seriously." You added. "I wanna tell him. And if he doesn't approve, fuck him. I'm happy when I'm with you."

Eddie held you tighter, but, as always, careful not to hurt you, enjoying the last few moments together before you both have to go home.

"He's really gonna put me in jail, this time."

You chuckled, shaking your head.

"I'll post bail."

3.14 am

You knew something was wrong when you saw that the light in your room was on.

Getting in from the window, you found yourself in front of Hopper, sitting on your bed with his arms crossed over his chest and the most pissed expression ever.

"I swear I didn't say anything!" El exclaimed, sitting cross-legged on her bed. You knew from her almost desperate tone that she meant it.

"You are up early this morning, aren't you?" You asked with a half laugh, trying to defuse.

"There are two options." He said curtly pointing an accusing finger at you. "You're either a werewolf or you owe me an explanation."

You thought about it for a moment.

"I am a werewolf?"

Not even El could hold back a laugh.

Tags: @jacklesdeanvessel @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat @michaelfuckinglangdon

[gadriezmannsgirl]

Hey! So I thought of this idea for Gavi, where yall have been dating for a while but he doesn't know exactly what date your birthday is and he ends up forgetting,but the reader doesn't mind because she's had bad experience with birthdays

This req has almost over a year, I'm truly sorry for the wait😭 but life's been pretty busy right now and I haven't had the time to sit down and write something😭😭 also, not prooferead😭💀

Calendar -P.G6

Summary: Your boyfriend doesn't know your birthday and you don't mind that, either.

"Amor"

"Mhm?" You grunt eyes not leaving your book

"Can I ask you something?" You hum letting him know you were paying him attention "You won't get mad?"

"It depends" You simply answer "Probably not. What's up?"

"When's your birthday?"

Right there, you froze. You let the book on your lap and looked at your boyfriend.

You and Pablo have almost a year and half dating, he was the sweetest, most caring, responsable, respectful guy you've ever known. He knew and remembered every single detail of you and of your relationship, so it took you by surprise to hear that he didn't know your birthday.

However, you didn't felt any kind of dissapointment or anger, your birthday was just another day and after your 6 birthday, you stopped celebrating it because of a bad experience, so you were just confused.

"You don't know when my birthday is?" He slowly shook his head

"I... don't" He said, you could see the nerves on his face, he was waiting for you to get mad.

"It's ________" You reply looking at him, you smiled softly "Better now?"

He repeated your birthday date under his breath only to gasp.

"That was two weeks ago!" You nod "¡Joder! ¿Como puedo ser tan mal novio?" (How can I be such a bad boyfriend?) "Venga, let's get dressed to have some dinner. I need to buy you a gift, two in fact, one for the lateness and the other for your birthday. We also need to set tomorrow a small party with our friends and family. I need to buy a cake for you as well-"

"Nononono. What are you talking about? No need"

"What do you mean there's no need? Of course it's needed! It's your birthday, we don't turn 20 every single year, we need to celebrate it"

"Pablo, I don't celebrate my birthdays" You state grabbing his hands and trying to calm him down

"¿Cómo que no celebras tus cumpleaños?" (How's that you don't celebrate your birthdays?)

"I just don't. Ever since I turned 6"

"But why is that?"

"I had a bad experience at my birthday party" You shrug shaking your head

"Puta madre" He cursed making you smile "I didn't know that"

"That's weird. I thought you asked my mom everything of me" You joke with a smile on as he grips your thigh

"I asked you some things too" You laugh

"I almost got lost in my birthday party. It was in the park but I walked and walked far away from the party, my mom and dad were attending the invited so my aunt was the one who had to look out for me and she did until her attention drifted to a kid who had fell from the swing"

"I spent around 5 hours lost in the park, it started raining and it got dark quickly, I was crying and shaking from the cold. My parents found me and I could only grip myself to them so bad. I didn't wanted to spend the rest of my birthday there, I didn't even wanted to eat the cake nor open the presents, nothing. And that day I couldn't be separated from my mom, I glued myself to her"

"It sounds pretty stupid but I was so afraid of them not being able to find me and stuff. So I just kinda stopped celebrating my birthday because it reminds me of that not-so-good time"

"It's not stupid, amor. And I'm sorry"

"Why are you sorry for?"

"I didn't know about that and also I made you remember it"

"It's ok, baby. You didn't know but now you do"

"Can I just give you a small gif and an ordinary cake then?" You smile

"I'll make a small exception for you and only this time" You kissed his lips standing up "Where are we going for dinner?"

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviymarcsbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld @http-isabela

[forestdeath1]

Canon Sirius through quotes

Part 3. Harshness and toughness (and how Sirius Black differs from James Potter). It's long. Really long.

Sirius isn't a soft crybaby. His harshness (and even cruelty) goes beyond the silly teenage pranks we usually see in fanfiction. Sirius is often either whitewashed by newer fans or overly demonized by anti-Marauders fans. Sirius has a tough exterior but a heart of gold. He's not childish and had to grow up early, though he can still be quite fun.

‘Do you know, I still have trouble believing it,’ said Madam Rosmerta thoughtfully. ‘Of all the people to go over to the Dark side, Sirius Black was the last I’d have thought ... .’

"Of all the people to go over to the Dark side, Sirius Black was the last I’d have thought" – this shouldn't be taken literally. Rosmerta saw many others regularly, Dumbledore, Lily, Remus, and many others, and out of all of them, Sirius Black was the last who could turn to the Dark side? Seriously? Did Sirius walk around with a halo and angel wings?

One trait that is always emphasized in his appearance is his haughty, bored look.

Rosmerta speaks metaphorically, not literally. She saw Sirius once a month or two when they went out to Hogsmeade to have fun and drink. In those moments, Sirius was lively, funny and noisy (especially lively after running away from home), and perhaps he even flirted with Rosmerta in a childish manner, melting the heart of the adult woman.

Sirius can be funny, although his humor is always edging towards dark:

"Imagine wasting your time and energy persecuting merpeople when there are little toerags like Kreacher on the loose.’ 

Ron laughed but Hermione looked upset. 

‘Sirius!’ she said reproachfully. ‘Honestly, if you made a bit of an effort with Kreacher, I’m sure he’d respond. After all, you are the only member of his family he’s got left, and Professor Dumbledore said –’ 

‘So, what are Umbridge’s lessons like?’ Sirius interrupted. ‘Is she training you all to kill half-breeds?’

Moreover, he interrupts Hermione, not letting her finish her point. He sharply outlines if he doesn't want to listen.

"the stuffed elf-heads on the hall wall wore Father Christmas hats and beards"

Dark humor.

‘Kreacher is cleaning,’ the elf repeated. ‘Kreacher lives to serve the Noble House of Black –’ 

‘And it’s getting blacker every day, it’s filthy,’ said Sirius.

Here he responds with a clear "Black" shade. His mother also loved to talk about filth.

‘Sirius – it’s me ... it’s Peter ... your friend ... you wouldn’t ...’ Black kicked out and Pettigrew recoiled. ‘There’s enough filth on my robes without you touching them,’ said Black.

And again. And here’s his mother:

‘Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness! Half-breeds, mutants, freaks, begone from this place! How dare you befoul the house of my fathers –’ 

‘Stains of dishonour, filthy half-breeds, blood traitors, children of filth ...’

Sirius desperately wants to be unlike the Blacks, but he is still Sirius Black.

‘I thought it was the perfect plan ... a bluff ... Voldemort would be sure to come after me, would never dream they’d use a weak, talentless thing like you ... it must have been the finest moment of your miserable life, telling Voldemort you could hand him the Potters.’

Sirius's humor isn't the only harsh thing about him. Even though here he has a reason – after Azkaban he met James's traitor – his way of speaking reflects his overall personality. The way one speaks is a mirror of personality, even if Sirius has PTSD, it only exposes even more vividly what he might control in a calm state.

‘Nasty temper he’s got, that Sirius Black.’ (Peeves)

At the same time, yes, he can be cheerful and infect everyone around him with his cheerfulness. If he's in a sombre mood, he creates a quite oppressive atmosphere around him that everyone feels. Just as with a good mood – everyone feels it.

Harry could not remember Sirius ever being in such a good mood; he was actually singing carols, apparently delighted that he was to have company over Christmas. 

-

Sirius tramping past their door towards Buckbeak’s room, singing ‘God Rest Ye, Merry Hippogriffs’ at the top of his voice. 

-

Sirius’s delight at having the house full again, and especially at having Harry back, was infectious. He was no longer their sullen host of the summer; now he seemed determined that everyone should enjoy themselves as much, if not more than they would have done at Hogwarts, and he worked tirelessly in the run-up to Christmas Day, cleaning and decorating with their help.

But the ability to be cheerful is in no way connected to being very harshn at the same time. This is precisely the case with Sirius.

Of all the Marauders, only Sirius is really harsh and can be truly dangerous (the author wrote about him, “The best-looking, most rebellious, most dangerous of the four marauders”). James was also a bully, but he's not harsh, despite the fact that it was he who pulled down Snape's trousers. Why? I think Sirius was already aware of what they were doing. James – not. Without awareness, it's too early to speak of any harshness and cruelty. Sirius had this awareness and still continued to do it.

Let's consider the reactions of Sirius and James in comparison.

‘Who wants to be in Slytherin? I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?’ 

Sirius did not smile. ‘My whole family have been in Slytherin,’ he said.

‘Blimey,’ said James, ‘and I thought you seemed all right!’ 

Sirius grinned. ‘Maybe I’ll break the tradition. Where are you heading, if you’ve got the choice?’

A small note: Sirius didn't even react to James's "I'd leave", even though he knew his whole family was from Slytherin, and he was likely to go there too.

James lifted an invisible sword. ‘“Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!” Like my dad.’ Snape made a small, disparaging noise. James turned on him.

‘Got a problem with that?’ ‘No,’ said Snape, though his slight sneer said otherwise. ‘If you’d rather be brawny than brainy –’

It was Snape who starts the confrontation on a personal level. James in his insults in this memory refers to moral qualities. "Who wants to be in Slytherin?" Only bad people. He is prejudiced against Slytherin because Slytherin is evil. Voldemort is gaining momentum. The first Muggle-born Minister was recently ousted. Attacks are happening here and there. Dark forces are growing. More and more of the pure-blood society talks about "Mudbloods" not belonging in this world. And "amazingly", they all turn out to be from Slytherin. James sees himself as a noble knight "James lifted an invisible sword", and he is against Slytherin not so much personally as against the moral component of Slytherin.

‘Where’re you hoping to go, seeing as you’re neither?’ interjected Sirius.

James roared with laughter. Lily sat up, rather flushed, and looked from James to Sirius in dislike.

Sirius immediately strikes at Snape's personality. Sirius is sharp-tongued, self-assured, and likely accustomed to considering others below himself. He probably assessed James as his equal right away. Brave, cheerful, sincere.

'Come on, Severus, let's find another compartment.'

'Oooooo...'

James and Sirius imitated her lofty voice; James tried to trip Snape as he passed.

'See ya, Snivellus!' a voice called, as the compartment door slammed...

James tried to trip Snape. James most often uses physical/magical force. He trips Snape, he pulls down Snape's trousers, he uses most of the spells on Snape in SWM. But it's Sirius who goes after Snape's personality. It looks like James has concocted a "noble justification" for his behavior and attitude and punishes Snape for existing just as he is.

Sirius, on the other hand, hardly uses magical/physical force in memories; he finds painful points in Snape's personality – from character to appearance, intentionally demeaning his personal traits.

Moreover, it was Sirius who focused on Snape's appearance. No one, except him, places such an emphasis on Snape's unattractive appearance and his untidiness.

'Snape's always been fascinated by the Dark Arts, he was famous for it at school. Slimy, oily, greasy-haired kid, he was,'

Very vivid epithets. Sirius is very eloquent when it comes to demeaning someone he dislikes.

Moreover, it's James who's the attention seeker. It's James who plays with the snitch, drawing attention, glancing at the girls by the lake, and ruffling his hair to show everyone how cool, strong, brave, and awesome he is.

After five minutes of this, Harry wondered why James didn’t tell Wormtail to get a grip on himself, but James seemed to be enjoying the attention. Harry noticed that his father had a habit of rumpling up his hair as though to keep it from getting too tidy, and he also kept looking over at the girls by the water’s edge.

While Sirius, likely, isn't much interested in societal validation. Sirius is more reserved, with firmer boundaries, he's not as interested in public adoration as James might be.

Lupin had pulled out a book and was reading. Sirius stared around at the students milling over the grass, looking rather haughty and bored, but very handsomely so.

This is a typical expression for Sirius – bored and haughty. He spent nearly five full years in Gryffindor alongside James, and the bored and haughty expression is still with him. It's not just a random trait in his character – it's one of the pillars of his personality, reflecting his attitude towards random people around him.

‘Put that away, will you,’ said Sirius finally, as James made a fine catch and Wormtail let out a cheer, ‘before Wormtail wets himself with excitement.’

As I've said, Sirius cuts with his words without a knife. They've been studying together for five years, been friends with Peter, and he jokes about Peter like this. I think they all joked about each other in the same way, just James's "jokes" are blunt and probably he just says whatever comes to mind, whereas Sirius's are more subtle and hurtful.

Moreover, when people say this is the only episode we know of bullying by James and Sirius and that it's the worst in their history, that's not correct. This episode is the worst in Snape's life. And not because they pulled down his trousers. But because he lost Lily forever that day. This episode, likely, was quite typical for the Marauders. They were in a good mood, had finished exams, Snape just happened to pass by, there were no obvious reasons for this bullying. Harry sifted through their detention records, and there were many, very many, and how many more when they weren't caught?

Sirius got bored, and there they decided to "have some fun."

‘I’m bored,’ said Sirius. ‘Wish it was full moon.’ 

‘You might,’ said Lupin darkly from behind his book. ‘We’ve still got Transfiguration, if you’re bored you could test me. Here ...’ and he held out his book. 

But Sirius snorted. ‘I don’t need to look at that rubbish, I know it all.’

I won't discuss The Prank here, many have written about it. In general, Sirius doesn't show empathy in everyday interactions even with Remus. Sirius has a heart of gold, but his shell, especially as a teenager – tough, harsh, sharp, and cutting. The grown-up Sirius interacts with close people much more politely, though he still occasionally shows his harshness (for example, with Hermione).

‘This’ll liven you up, Padfoot,’ said James quietly. ‘Look who it is ...’ 

Sirius’s head turned. He became very still, like a dog that has scented a rabbit. 

‘Excellent,’ he said softly. ‘Snivellus.’

I don't want to justify Sirius and James, but for context – Snape is fascinated by the Dark Arts, hangs out with future Death Eaters (= fascist), and they have mutual dislike from the first year. No, the act is immature, but James justifies it in his head exactly like this – Snape is bad for him, so anything goes, and anyway, "so what?" Sirius doesn't need justifications. He's just bored.

Even when James uses all the spells on Snape, he still glances at the lake:

Snape lay panting on the ground. James and Sirius advanced on him, wands raised, James glancing over his shoulder at the girls at the water’s edge as he went. Wormtail was on his feet now, watching hungrily, edging around Lupin to get a clearer view.

Why look at the girls by the lake when you're humiliating someone, if you know you're doing something really bad? James genuinely sees himself as a noble knight, deserving of admiration. Moreover, many do admire him (''Students all around had turned to watch. Some of them had got to their feet and were edging nearer. Some looked apprehensive, others entertained. Several people watching laughed''), and Lupin mentioned several times that James was popular at school.

‘How’d the exam go, Snivelly?’ said James. 

‘I was watching him, his nose was touching the parchment,’ said Sirius viciously. ‘There’ll be great grease marks all over it, they won’t be able to read a word.’ 

Again, Sirius harshly targets Snape's personal traits, including his appearance.

‘You – wait,’ he panted, staring up at James with an expression of purest loathing, ‘you – wait!’ 

‘Wait for what?’ said Sirius coolly. ‘What’re you going to do, Snivelly, wipe your nose on us?’ 

And again – Sirius strikes with words.

Snape let out a stream of mixed swear words and hexes, but with his wand ten feet away nothing happened.

‘Wash out your mouth,’ said James coldly. ‘Scourgify!’

And James responds with a spell to what? Snape's insults. He says ‘Wash out your mouth.’ He appeals to the moral side of the issue.

‘I don’t need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!’

‘Apologise to Evans!’ James roared at Snape, his wand pointed  threateningly at him. ‘I don’t want you to make him apologise,’ Lily shouted, rounding on James. ‘You’re as bad as he is.’ ‘What?’ yelped James. ‘I’d NEVER call you a – you-know-what!’

This also proves that James is sure he's doing everything right. James is like a volunteer in the allies' army against the fascists, a brave Gryffindor, and his sword is to cast spells on anyone he deems not fitting his moral standards.

‘Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you’ve just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can – I’m surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK.’

And from the outside, it looked like this.

‘What is it with her?’ said James, trying and failing to look as though this was a throwaway question of no real importance to him. 

‘Reading between the lines, I’d say she thinks you’re a bit conceited, mate,’ said Sirius.

And Sirius understands it all too well. Who he is, who James is, and what Lily thinks about it all. Sirius knows about James's crush on Lily and finds it even funny that she rejects him. Likely because Sirius understands that they often cross the line. I don’t think Sirius could have stopped Potter. I don't even think Sirius wanted to stop Potter. He found it all funny. Azkaban, on the other hand, softened Sirius in his interactions with others. It knocked down his pride and arrogance. Showed him that life can be unfair and you don't need to act like a haughty jerk who thinks the world revolves around them.

At school, Sirius was more about psychological bullying, while James was about the physical. Given that James and Sirius were very popular at school and within their house, their bullying was likely directed mostly at Slytherins or at arrogant jerks like themselves who they just "didn't like."

And the adult Sirius understands that they were “arrogant little berks.” And he’s “not proud of it,” but his next words speak for themselves:

“ I think James was everything Snape wanted to be – he was popular, he was good at Quidditch – good at pretty much everything. And Snape was just this little oddball who was up to his eyes in the Dark Arts, and James – whatever else he may have appeared to you, Harry – always hated the Dark Arts.”

Sirius justifies James while simultaneously praising him. Justifications always imply a partial denial of guilt. Someone fully aware of their guilt doesn’t seek to justify or be justified. Of course, Sirius said this for Harry's sake too. To ensure Harry didn’t think his father was just a bully for no reason. His father was actually “on the side of good,” is what Sirius wants to convey. About himself, he remains silent. But he doesn't miss the chance to insult Snape again “little oddball.”

Even Remus, as an adult, sincerely justifies James.

‘She started going out with him in seventh year,’ said Lupin. 

‘Once James had deflated his head a bit,’ said Sirius. ‘And stopped hexing people just for the fun of it,’ said Lupin.

 ‘Even Snape?’ said Harry. ‘Well,’ said Lupin slowly, ‘Snape was a special case. I mean, he never lost an opportunity to curse James so you couldn’t really expect James to take that lying down, could you?’ 

‘And my mum was OK with that?’ 

‘She didn’t know too much about it, to tell you the truth,’ said Sirius. ‘I mean, James didn’t take Snape on dates with her and jinx him in front of her, did he?’

Lupin finds a genuine justification for James. The concept of “violence in any form is bad” isn’t fully grasped by them. They follow an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Lupin even was ready to kill Peter, and he insisted that war is not a playground and that killing is sometimes necessary in war. Remus, though gentler and kinder, and preferring not to engage in conflict, genuinely wished Sirius and James hadn't bullied anyone at school, but yet, he still reconciles with all they do and even justifies James.

In Sirius's mind, James may have acted like a fool, but Sirius doesn’t genuinely condemn it. He just thinks they were too arrogant. And Sirius’s behavior after Azkaban (how he became gentler with others) indicates he truly realized – you don't need to belittle everyone you dislike or even like. Yet, Sirius’s harshness, even after Azkaban, didn’t disappear; it was just redirected towards what he genuinely hates.

‘Professor Snape was at school with us. He fought very hard against my appointment to the Defence Against the Dark Arts job. He has been telling Dumbledore all year that I am not to be trusted. He has his reasons ... you see, Sirius here played a trick on him which nearly killed him, a trick which involved me –’ 

Black made a derisive noise. 

‘It served him right,’ he sneered. ‘Sneaking around, trying to find out what we were up to ... hoping he could get us expelled ...’

Remus's reactions are much softer, but Sirius’s reaction, even years later, is harsh and even a bit cruel. ‘It served him right.’ Because it's an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.

However, Sirius’s harshness still occasionally breaks through even towards his close ones when he slightly loses control over himself after Azkaban.

‘You’re less like your father than I thought,’ he said finally, a definite coolness in his voice. ‘The risk would’ve been what made it fun for James.’ 

‘Well, I’d better get going, I can hear Kreacher coming down the stairs,’ said Sirius, but Harry was sure he was lying. ‘I’ll write to tell you a time I can make it back into the fire, then, shall I? If you can stand to risk it?’

Sirius calls themselves “arrogant little berks,” but the peculiarity of Sirius’s arrogance is that it's due to his personal qualities, not external “glamour”.

 ‘I, a spy for Voldemort? When did I ever sneak around people who were stronger and more powerful than myself? But you, Peter – I’ll never understand why I didn’t see you were the spy from the start. You always liked big friends who’d look after you, didn’t you?’

He despises Peter for groveling, for weakness, for the same reasons he despises Regulus, considering him a soft idiot. Sirius’s arrogance was never built on finances or blood purity, on popularity, on playing Quidditch, not on his name, although the family dynamics undoubtedly influenced his pride. But overall, his arrogance is of a different level – that of a rebellious spirit, a very strong person, not like the Malfoys. Lucius Malfoy is intentionally depicted as the complete opposite of Sirius Black (in character – the most rebellious of their pure-blood circle and the most sycophantic, and in appearance – black and white).

Sirius and Kreacher's story demonstrates that Sirius does not forgive those he hated and can carry hatred through the years. People usually soften over time, but Sirius has an excuse – Azkaban. Nonetheless, the behavioral pattern remains unchanged. Azkaban does not change the essence of people, it makes certain traits more vivid and pronounced. Sirius became calmer towards the people around him who help fight against evil, he toned down his arrogance and pride (even towards Snape, he no longer hurls insults first, it’s Snape who insults Sirius first), but Sirius became even harsher towards those he hates.

‘Sirius was horrible to Kreacher, Harry, and it’s no good looking like that, you know it’s true. I’ve said all along that wizards would pay for how they treat house-elves. Well, Voldemort did ... and so did Sirius.’

Harry had no retort. As he watched Kreacher sobbing on the floor, he remembered what Dumbledore had said to him, mere hours after Sirius’s death: I do not think Sirius ever saw Kreacher as a being with feelings as acute as a human’s ...

And he himself demonstrates this repeatedly:

At which Sirius, ignoring Hermione’s protests, seized Kreacher by the back of his loincloth and threw him bodily from the room.

Dumbledore believes Sirius showed cruelty to Kreacher through his indifference and neglect. That is, Sirius could shut off his empathy towards a being, despite generally being friendly towards house-elves.

‘He (Sirius) regarded him (Kreacher) as a servant unworthy of much interest or notice. Indifference and neglect often do much more damage than outright dislike… Sirius was not a cruel man, he was kind to house-elves in general. He had no love for Kreacher, because Kreacher was a living reminder of the home Sirius had hated.’

Sirius was not evil. But the neglect emanating from him was very cruel, harsh, and cold. Sirius can shut away all the good within him towards anyone he despised – “And whatever Kreacher’s faults, it must be admitted that Sirius did nothing to make Kreacher’s lot easier –”

‘– comes back from Azkaban ordering Kreacher around, oh, my poor mistress, what would she say if she saw the house now, scum living in it, her treasures thrown out, she swore he was no son of hers and he’s back, they say he’s a murderer too –’

‘Keep muttering and I will be a murderer!’ said Sirius irritably as he slammed the door shut on the elf.

However, Sirius likely never killed anyone, even while serving in the "Order."

Regarding his family and even Regulus, Sirius is also harsh. Even if he, like any child, deep down loved his family, it doesn’t matter because his real words and actions are very harsh and aimed at severing ties. The possible love for them deep down only further highlights his harshness and readiness for confrontation.

“I hated the whole lot of them: my parents, with their pure-blood mania, convinced that to be a Black made you practically royal ... my idiot brother, soft enough to believe them”

Likely, he’s ashamed of them, and his hatred also builds a wall between them and himself.

‘Does it matter if she’s my cousin?’ snapped Sirius. ‘As far as I’m concerned, they’re not my family. She’s certainly not my family. I haven’t seen her since I was your age, unless you count a glimpse of her coming into Azkaban. D’you think I’m proud of having a relative like her?’

And at the same time Dumbledore about James:

‘I knew your father very well, both at Hogwarts and later, Harry,’ he said gently. ‘He would have saved Pettigrew too, I am sure of it.’

I don’t know how true this is (though likely, the author speaks through Dumbledore here), but considering that Harry himself is a character whose main traits include the ability to understand and forgive others, perhaps James had this to some extent too. But Sirius lacks the ability to forgive, and this is deliberately shown in the book – that he suffered precisely because of his excessive harshness.

In conclusion, Sirius's harshness and toughness is not just teenage arrogance; it's directly a trait of his personality, something that cannot be overlooked when talking about the canonical Sirius, not his sugar-coated substitute in fandom. Sirius had to grow up very early, and all this left its mark on him.

Of all the Marauders, only Sirius is really harsh and can be truly dangerous.

But Sirius was not cruel in a moral-ethical sense, or more precisely – ideologically. There's no reason to believe Sirius is constantly drawn to the dark side or that he's amoral. His constant fight against his family suggests instead that he formed high ideals within himself. No, Sirius is not amoral; he has difficulty with empathy (especially in childhood), a tendency towards aggression and cruelty (mostly in childhood, he controls himself quite well as an adult. Well, for Sirius Black quite well), arrogance, but he very well understands what is right and what is wrong.

‘She’s got the measure of Crouch better than you have, Ron. If you want to know what a man’s like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals.’

[primeofprimes115]

A Cold "Treat" - Supergirl x Male Reader

Note: Smut 💕

Art by Krysdecker

For the last three months of Y/N's life, everything has been life changing for him in a lot of ways he couldn't describe at all, to say that he was the luckiest boy on Earth, was a true statement in many the many eyes of males his age to say at least.

All his life had been ups and downs, mostly downs but he always seemed to power through them, even the most overwhelming moments in his life, despite feeling rather vague about his life, all he wanted was an escape from the misery that was his day-to-day life, just something that could uplift him in the dark.

His mother was one of those people, especially after his dad mysteriously passed away, she raised him all on her own, working off on the money she had from a dodgy family, though some of the family were genuinely nice people deep down, the other half were something else entirely.

School was rough, through middle to high school, he had the normal-ish, school experience, just with the added down-sides to it, dealing with the wrong people mostly, he had friends, not much, but he definitely had friends.

College was like a breath of fresh air, it was like he could finally breath once again, no more having to deal with shitty people, no more having to deal with teachers who were mostly plain disrespectful or unfun, who would berate you for being two-minutes late or under the ten-minute mark. No more having to deal with wannabe cool people who think they're the toughest in the world.

College was something... New, despite the costs of having to go there in Metropolis, he was more than happy to have been to somewhere fresh and new, than having to deal with low-life people who thought everything mattered to them.

His life began to take a turmoil at this point, with some ups and downs along the way, his life got interesting but not as interesting as a year later in College.

One day, he was just walking down the street, not wanting to live in a Dorm like any other student would, but he was on his way to College when all of a sudden? He walked into a scene of danger, the city threatened by a super-villain, identity confirmed it to be Metallo, an infamous villain that belonged in Superman's rogue gallery, this was Metropolis after all.

And who was at the scene also? Superman's cousin, Supergirl, renowned for her strong will and outgoing personality and friendly nature, unless you piss her off, was fighting Metallo at the scene in Superman's absence. She was seen protecting citizens from a rampaging Metallo who wanted nothing more than revenge on Superman, vowing to kill Supergirl to spite the Man of Steel.

Supergirl was resilient in her efforts to stop the rampaging Metallo, but thanks to Kryptonite? The Girl of Steel would soon fall under the overwhelming effects, making her nauseous and weak, giving Metallo and edge to the fight.

"I'll give Superman your regards on my behalf" Metallo said to spite her, she tried fighting back a little longer but soon fell to her knees with the Kryptonite in his chest fully exposed to her as a beam shot out, hitting her across the road and into a civilian's parked car.

He remembered hiding, hiding and watching how the fight was going down, seeing Supergirl being knocked down like that was heart-wrenching to watch, after all the good she's done for Earth, despite what many people say about her to downvote her, he wasn't one of those people... He once praised Supergirl for her efforts, after all... She saved him a few times before which was over a year ago just before his day into College, and even before that.

"I-I won't...!" the girl struggled to keep her words up, the Kryptonite weakening her further as Metallo walked closer, the light in his chest growing greener, charging up.

"Time to die, girly!" John Corben sneered before he felt a rock bounce off of his head, making him grunt in annoyance.

"Leave her alone!" turning around, he heard the voice of a boy that threw a rock at him, noticing him standing across the street with a brave attitude.

"Big mistake, kid" Metallo groaned, before his attention fell to the boy instead.

"Oh shit" Y/N cursed out before Metallo went straight after him instead.

This was enough of a distraction for Supergirl to recover from being weakened by the Kryptonite, while Y/N was facing a near-death experience at this point in time, with Metallo out to kill a nineteen-year-old boy, just because he saved Supergirl last minute by attacking him.

The Girl of Steel pulled a plan out of her cousin's book and ripped a manhole out from the ground nearby and proceeded to track down Metallo chasing the kid, she thought how stupid it was of the boy to put himself in danger, let alone...

He sounded familiar to her, as if she had seen him before once or twice, she hadn't struck conversation with him before, but all she knew him as was this "handsome boy".

Soon, she found Metallo cornering the boy in a lone alleyway, soon flying on down to get his attention.

"Hey! Leave the charming guy alone!!" she shouted out at him, gaining his attention before the Girl of Steel melted the manhole cover onto Metallo's chest, just like her cousin once did a few years back.

All she had to do now was fly him up into space, hopefully to knock him out due to a lack of oxygen up out of orbit, now that the Kryptonite was contained, with Metallo cursing out the girl's efforts, trying to fight back, Supergirl was persistent and blasted off into the air, leaving Y/N alone in the alleyway, having to get over the fact that she just called him 'charming' right in front of him.

Soon enough... The boy was just making his way over back to College after having his life ended by a supervillain, but he was stopped by Supergirl calling him out and landing a few feet in front of him, after handing Metallo over to Stryker's Island, to be imprisoned once more.

"Hi" she shyly waved at him with her arms within her gold/yellow outlined red cape, with a cute little smile on her face after greeting the boy.

"Oh? H-Hi there" Y/N waved back at her, feeling rather tensed but surprised to see Supergirl standing in front of him, albeit her floating off the ground a little just to look taller. Her being 5'5 and he, 5'10. "Look, if this is about me putting my life in danger to save you, you... Don't need to say it, it was kinda dumb for me to do-".

"Who said you were dumb to do so?" she asked him softly, making him reconsider what he was saying as she landed on the ground softly, with dust scattering away from her red boots, approaching him. "You did what you thought was right, you're not in trouble or anything" she giggled softly... Oh that giggle, it would send a boy to the stars hearing that.

"Oh? W-Well... Haha" he tittered. "I-I uh... Well... *clears throat* You don't need to thank me, I was just... Y'know?" he shrugged, looking away from Supergirl's eyes for a moment to recollect his thoughts... He would surely not want to get lost in such gorgeous eyes like hers.

She was a superhero, he didn't deserve to get attention like this from one superhero, yeah she saved him a few times before, but that was different. They had no interaction before, which only made him more awkward.

However, Supergirl smiled brightly, letting out a small, soft giggle. "Well... I'm thanking you anyway~♥" she said before doing the unthinkable, floating off the ground and kissing his left cheek, making his face go redder by the second as he blushed hard. It was nothing more than a small and simple kiss.

It was soft and gentle, just like her more friendly nature, ticklish like her golden locks.

"You mind if I fly you to College?" she asked, despite him being lost in what had just happened.

"What?? How did you-?" he stopped himself, still blushing red across the cheeks as he laughed nervously. "Of course you probably know that" he chuckled to himself, keeping his eyes off of her to regather himself.

"Is that a yes?" she asked softly and genuinely. Y/N built his courage to look at her again and saw a gentle look in her face, a caring look in her eyes, a sweet sense of interest in her smile.

From that point on? He began to smile...

Three months... Three whole months had been the most interesting point in his life since then...

Another surprise had awaited him that following week of speaking to Supergirl for the first time face to face, he remembered it clearly... She went ahead to pick him up and fly him back home to his own living space and soon after, she asked him out on a date, 'something casual' she put it, but Y/N knew from that point on...

They were meant to be... He didn't know why, but the genuine look in her face, making sure he was alright every day, checking up on him when she could, she was caring, sweet and kind, completely different from what the internet points her out as. She was this willing to ask him out on a date and like any normal person? He accepted.

It was still all crazy to him... He was dating... No, now he was the boyfriend of Supergirl, or he'd soon learn to know her by another name or two.

Kara Zor-El, who is just Supergirl.

And Linda Lang... No wonder she looked familiar! She was the cute girl in College! No wonder why he caught her staring at him a few times. Who would've thought Linda Lang was Supergirl in disguise? Just to keep a close eye on him during College, blending in with the students.

Since dating Supergirl, or Linda for that matter, he's gotten to meet new people, heroes in other words who both appreciated and were kind enough to allow Y/N to hang out with them with or without their costumes, capes and so what, most notably a few Teen Titans that Kara got along with very well.

Those last three months were held special and dear to him, Supergirl most notably changed his life and perspective on life for that matter alone, she showed him a lot more than he could fathom to realize, the responsibility.

Despite his ups and downs during College and all his sleepless nights... Kara would support him regardless, help him feel more relaxed and happier. He was head over heels for Kara at this point, like she was with him. Around this time, Kara happily moved into Y/N's apartment, bringing more than just her, she brought her cat, Streaky into his life, who warmed up to him in no time.

Currently however, the two were holding hands, walking down the busy streets of Metropolis, Y/N having his Summer break for College for the next twelve-to-fourteen weeks, Kara was more than happy to have him be on break for that amount of time.

Kara was in her disguise as Linda Lang, wearing her glasses after she had flown him through the city for a little bit as Supergirl.

Usually every morning, Kara would be the first to wake, seeing her boyfriend cutely snoring away before she begins to get ready for the day ahead, every morning, she puts on her midriff suit and sets out to patrol as Supergirl. Going to every corner of America to scope out any danger and put an end to it.

It had been like that for her for a while now but she couldn't be more happier anyway, since Superman was mostly absent from Metropolis nowadays, she offered to take over by keeping Metropolis safe, while Superman was needed elsewhere from time to time, he reluctantly agreed and it had been like that for the past few months.

Once her patrols were finished? She'd return home, always in time to see her boyfriend waking up either by Streaky or by her own action of climbing on him, while she still wore her suit. It was sure a sight to see Supergirl straddle him which ended up in him kissing her every time, which was exactly what happened this morning.

She also decided to get him breakfast from the local bakery, his favorite bakery in that regard.

Y/N soon took notice of the street they were walking in on, the same street he once saved Kara within from Metallo three months back, soon chuckling at remembering that day.

Linda notably took notice of his little chuckle, pulling a look of interest into why he chuckled.

"What's got you chuckling??" she asked softly, Y/N looked at her and smiled.

"Oh well, just thought back to the day I saved you from Metallo, this was the same street you fought him in" Y/N pointed out his reason, surprising his girlfriend after she notices.

"Oh yeah, it is" she giggled soon after. "Not far ahead, I thanked you and kissed you on your cheek" she then reminded him before kissing him on the same cheek, pushing up her round, Harry Potter looking glasses after the gentle kiss.

"That was surely a moment that's still in the back of my mind" he smiled more at her, holding Linda's hand tighter, through the crowded street ahead. He used to always have anxiety walking through a street like this alone, social anxiety.

But Supergirl, Kara, Linda had brought down that level of social anxiety since they began dating, before being committed into a relationship.

"Who would've thought that we'd tie the knot not long after?" Linda said with a teasing smirk, noting out their first time doing it in bed last month, following them announcing their relationship to their friends, and to Y/N's mother, who supported him.

His mother doesn't know that his girlfriend is Supergirl yet, but he was going to tell her when the time is right, his mother was already worried enough as she already was three months ago after having a near-death experience from Metallo.

"Our first time having sex? Yeah... That's a night I'm always going to remember" he purred to her, making Linda bite her lip just thinking back on it.

She remembered screaming out his name in pure satisfaction, the feeling of being able to feel so good, of having her walls being broken down by just a mere human. The hickeys, the kissing, the note of consent on one another of taking each other's clothes off.

More notably, she was in her costume for their first time, and she ended up being naked not long after before she felt him inside her, she found it extremely hot hearing him ask to take off her skirt and shorts, along with her boots and crop top with the cape still attached to it. 

It turned her on just thinking more about it. "I'm always going to remember that night~♥" she smirked, staring right at him as he looked at her with a smirk on his face.

"Y'know, if you wanna go at it again, all you have to do is ask" he softly cooed at her before softly laughing.

"Oh, I'm planning to" she winked, as the two continued walking down the busy street on their day out, without any crime for Supergirl to stop currently.

Not far ahead, Linda overheard something with her super hearing, some people ordering ice-cream just not far from where they were.

It was a pretty hot sunny day today, Y/N was only dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, wearing nothing but his sneakers with ankle socks, Linda on the other hand, had her hair tied back with a hair-bobble, while she wore her traditional zipped up hoodie and ripped jeans, hiding her superhero attire underneath as she wore her red boots, the gold-V-shaped part being covered by her jeans.

"Ohhh! There's a guy selling some ice-cream! We should get some" Linda said with a craving for a vanilla ice-cream. C'mon!" she began to drag him toward the ice-cream stand, smiling away.

Y/N began to chuckle at Linda's cuteness, being dragged along towards the ice-cream stand up-ahead of them. "Couldn't wait for my answer, could you?" he asked.

"I already knew what your answer was gonna be, hun" she winked back at him. "Besides, your body could use a cooldown, can't exactly use my... Y'know?" she done a imitation of her freeze breath power with her lips, knowing she couldn't do it within the public while in disguise.

"God, I love it when you read me like a book, it's so hot" he purred and smiled with a small tint of pink appearing across his cheeks, while Linda kept her smile at him, dragging him by the hand gently.

It weren't long until Linda had brought her boyfriend over to the ice-cream stand, waiting their turn to order, Y/N couldn't help but imagine Kara in her superhero attire, the midriff that showed her abs, her petite belly that showed her abs. Oh how it turned him on just thinking about it - with her hair billowing behind her just like her cape, as she'd lick her ice-cream, it was just a thought but it turned him on just thinking about it.

"Hun?" Linda's voice brought Y/N out of his little daydream.

"Uh... Yes?".

"What flavor do you want? I'm going vanilla, plain too" she asked, informing him on what she's picking also.

"I'll go for what you're having" he smiled, as their turn was next.

"Hi there!" Linda greeted the man within the ice-cream stand with a small wave, while holding her boyfriend's hand. "Two plain vanilla ice-creams please" Linda reached within her wallet and pulled out ten-dollars each. "Keep the change too, it'll be fine" she insisted the man who went to work.

Linda took notice on the way Y/N was now looking at her, she couldn't help but look into his eyes, madly in love with him while he was staring her down with some slow blinks, both smiling at each other.

She then softly giggled before leaning toward him. "I've got you covered" she whispered to him with a teasing wink.

Y/N wondered what she meant by that, little beknown to him... Linda knew what he was thinking, she could imagine him fantasizing her in costume, licking her ice-cream cone away, she really could read him like a book, she didn't possess mind-reading powers, even if she did? She wouldn't need them to know what he was thinking.

Soon, their ice-cream was being served to them, Linda thanked the man after politely taking it from him, she handed her boyfriend his ice-cream cone and the two walked off, with the girl holding him by the hand again as she was taking him somewhere where they couldn't be seen.

Y/N would soon find himself being flown up into the sky, with Kara holding her arm around his waist, she soared through the air, until she brought him to a rooftop with an amazing view. He felt his feet touch the ground soon after, recognizing they were on-top of a building where Kara usually stashed her Linda Lang disguise, safely out of reach and hidden from sight from anyone but her... And her boyfriend in other words.

"Here, hold this for a sec" she handed him her own ice-cream cone, as she began to take off her disguise, pulling off the hair-bobble that she tied her hair back with before removing her glasses.

Y/N could only stare at her as she began to take off her hoodie, revealing the S on her crop-top before her cape was freed behind her, picked up by the soft winds just like her golden hair.

Y/N was licking his ice-cream during this time and chuckled as soon as he saw the crop-top being freed. "Y'know? The ripped jeans with the midriff works really well" he brought to her attention.

"You think so?" she asked as she took them off next, freeing her blue skirt which billowed and showed her red shorts underneath the skirt.

"Yeah... It sure does" he nodded, licking his ice-cream more before handing Supergirl's cone back to her.

"Hmm, I'll consider it an idea" she smirked, before beginning to lick her ice-cream next. Looking at her boyfriend passionately as she did so, beginning to levitate also off the rooftop.

The next few minutes, with Kara licking her ice-cream cone while levitating, Y/N soon found himself staring right at his superhero girlfriend, getting lost in the moment of watching her lick her cone.

Her tongue twirled around the cold treat, licking it profusely, even turning the cone around to get the vanilla taste all around her tongue, before using the tip of her tongue to get a long lick.

He began to realize what Kara had said earlier while down on the ground, that she had him 'covered'? Was this what she meant?

Levitating up in the air, licking away at her ice-cream as she stared down at her ever-loving boyfriend, her cape and hair being picked up by the wind as she only looked down at him, licking at her ice-cream cone with a suggestive look.

Just to turn him on by making obvious moves with just her ice-cream, teasing him with her tongue over a frozen beverage? He was already getting turned on by it alone, even by her muscles alone which she demonstrated 

Supergirl then bit her lip while taking a look at Y/N, licking her lips after getting some of the ice-cream on the top of her lips, before she noticed the boy's ice-cream was beginning to melt after he had done nothing but stare at her while she was eating her ice-cream in a suggestive manner to tease him.

Y/N imagined having his manhood sucked by her the way she was licking her ice-cream, her tongue twirling around the top, using her mouth to nibble the cold treat before she licked her lips. Imagining she'd do down to town on his shaft made him feel hot and horny.

"Oh, Y/N. Your ice-cream is melting" she brought to his attention while giggling away.

Y/N looked at his ice-cream and right away began licking it, laughing softly while doing so. "Sorry, you uh... Well, caught me off guard with... Well..." he couldn't even finish his sentence without blushing hard.

Kara gave him a teasing smirk and soft laugh, floating on down toward him to plant a kiss on his cheek, her lips were cold from the ice-cream itself, which seemed to cool him down a little bit more.

"There'll be more after this~♥" she whispered into his ear, continuing to eat her ice-cream as she made it noted that she knew what he was thinking, she didn't need him to tell her what he wanted, she could see it in his heart and eyes alone.

She continued to lick her ice-cream and Y/N did too, proceeding to turn him on and tease him much more with her ice-cream and tongue, she even went far as to give him a wink and bedroom eyes.

'God, she's turning me on even more' he could say to himself. He didn't think this is how his day would go, though lately he had been a little stressed out, there were many things that were his escape from reality, but Kara was one person that kept him stable, she was his main pillar in life since she made herself known into his life. 'So fucking hot' he thought to himself while staring at the Girl of Steel licking her cone.

It was all he could think of within the next minutes, eating their ice-cream away with each other before finishing.

Once Y/N had finished and so did Kara, she proceeded to fly him all the way back to their living space, with only one thought in mind...

Giving him a cold "treat" to remember, to give him a good time after teasing him for the last twenty-minutes. To think he was turned on? She was also turned on just thinking about sucking his cock and then riding it until he and her finish together, with their juices flowing with one another, just like last time.

Y/N was a little hot, it was a little hotter than it was yesterday, but he wasn't sure if it was because he was turned on or if it was just because of the weather.

(Smut begins)

"I know you've been thinking about it" Supergirl spoke in a lustrous tone, placing her boyfriend back onto his feet after flying on through the window of their shared home.

"About what?" he pretended to not know what she was talking about, making an obvious smirk that he knew exactly what she was on about.

"With a smirk like that? You can't play dumb" she teased, pulling him by the collar of his T-shirt. "Otherwise, I'd say your heartbeat says your lying" she lustfully giggled, pulling him into her lips, passionately kissing him next, their lips beginning to smack off each other slowly.

"Mmm" Y/N moaned into the Maiden of Might's lips in unison, her hands were on his chest as his hand sneakily groped her breasts just over her House of El glyph on her crop-top, making her let out a little cute noise.

"If you want to play that game?" Kara mumbled into his lips as one hand began to slip into his shorts and boxers, getting a gentle grip onto his shaved manhood as it increased in size upon her touch. "Be careful what you wish for~♥" she made a notable remark with a suggestive tone into his ear.

"I know what I'm wishing for~♥" he purred to her, feeling Kara's hand poke and and explore his cock within his boxers, biting his lip at her hand examining his length as his bump increased.

Supergirl let out a giggle through his lips as their kiss continued, before turning into a little make-out session for just a few more minutes, until Kara had enough and immediately dropped down to her knees, looking straight up at Y/N while biting her lip.

She then began to untie his shoes, so he could kick them off, untying one at a time carefully so she didn't accidentally ripped the shoelaces with her bare strength, his shoes were pretty a lot of money after all.

One by one, she untied the knots, letting him take off his shoes before looking straight up at him while biting her lip suggestively, giggling away as her hands drove up to his shorts.

"I turned you on a lot earlier, didn't I?" she cooed.

Y/N nodded in complete silence, in awe at the sight of Supergirl on both her knees, slowly taking off his shorts before they were dropped at the end of his feet, for him to kick away as she moved to his boxers next.

A very noticeable bump was seen, earlier she used X-ray vision to get a good look at it while they were having their ice-cream, she couldn't stop thinking about it since then.

A suggestive smile sprang across the girl's face as she was slowly pulling down his boxers, his shaft now exposed to Kara Zor-El who smirked at the treat ahead of her as she licked her lips.

She smiled right up at him before taking a lick up the shaft, making Y/N shimmer and squirm a little, with her tongue still cold from the ice-cream they had earlier.

"Ohmygod" he said in a fast manner as Supergirl took his cock into her mouth. "Your tongue is cold, holy shit that's so good" he breathed out as Kara giggled while beginning to suck him.

She bobbed her head forward slowly, twirling her tongue around his shaft while she bobbed forward and backwards.

Her eyes stared right up at him, seeing a look of satisfaction spread across his face as her cold tongue twirled and danced around his shaft, before a pop sound came from her mouth, taking his cock out of her mouth.

She began to give him a little hand-job, using a little bit of her super-speed to satisfy him a little more, which seemed to be doing more than satisfy him, it made him moan her name.

Kara had once used super-speed before during their first time, notably using her super-speed as a vibration to stimulate his cock which worked as a hand-job in a way and she used it a few times to even satisfy herself by playing with her pussy.

"Ohhhh Kara!" he moaned her name again, rocking his head back while Kara pleasured him with a smirk across her face.

"You gonna cum?" she asked him.

"If you c-c-continue u-using your... SSSSSuper ssspeed, then yyyeah" he stammered, giving Kara the pleasure to stop and take his cock back into her mouth, using her tongue on the tip of his cock, twirling and dancing around it.

Her tongue still cold, from an icy treat, she continued to satisfy him more with a tongue still frosty as the arctic in the North-Pole.

Y/N proceeded to take off his T-shirt, getting a little sweaty by the minute as Kara continued going to town on his cock, looking straight up at him with a smile that could brighten the heavens.

"You taste so good" she whirled and purred toward him, wanting to satisfy her boyfriend more by complimenting how good his cock tasted, it sounded nasty but he didn't let it bother him, she looked and seemed satisfied though.

His eyes then rocked back as Kara took it deep into her mouth next, gagging a little on his cock hitting the back of her throat, her saliva coating his cock all around as she took it deeper again. A giggle escaped her throat as she smiled brightly right up at him.

She once again took a long lick up his shaft, coated by her saliva and the coldness of her tongue, she continued to lick the top of his shaft, just like she did with her ice-cream cone earlier, giving him a satisfying feeling and view as she slowly drove one hand into her skirt and shorts and began to play with her pussy, inserting two fingers in her which she moaned a little in pleasure.

And she was doing this while still in costume, which only made it more better that Supergirl was sucking him off.

"Ohhhhh KaRRRRaaaa, fuck meeeee" Y/N moaned in ecstasy, being pleasured by his superhero girlfriend since it had been a month from their first time having sex. He wondered how Kara knew what she was doing.

If he had asked, she'd probably say that she was Supergirl, of course she knew what she was doing.

A little soft giggle escaped Kara's throat as she continued licking the tip of his juicy cock, some pre-cum now leaking as she took notice of it, wanting to not put it to waste, she licked up the pre-cum that was leaking.

She thought it wouldn't be as satisfying to even lick it up but it wasn't as bad as she thought it would be, before she made a pop noise again with his cock escaping her mouth, twitching a little as a little more pre-cum leaked out.

"You want me to fuck you?" she brought to his attention, she was already planning to fuck him regardless, but she took what he said earlier to heart.

"Y-Yeah, I was hoping you'd say that" Y/N purred, giving Kara bedroom eyes before she stood up and kissed him on the lips, starting a make-out session as she levitated off the ground a little.

Her tongue danced with his next, with him beginning to fight for tongue dominance, still tasting the vanilla ice-cream they both had earlier.

Supergirl moaned into Y/N's lips as she began to fly him over to their bedroom as Kara thought about keeping her costume on this time, she once overheard him fantasizing over her keeping her suit and cape on while they were going at it in bed, it turned her on thinking about it around that time, and now this was a perfect opportunity.

Once Supergirl reached the bedroom, she put Y/N down onto his feet, the only part that wasn't complete naked and pushed him gently onto the bed while she giggled and he chuckled.

"I know you've been fantasizing about me keeping this on while we fuck" she brought up to his attention, making him blush while he smirked.

"Because I just love staring at your abs, babe" he made it known to her. "And you're also so fucking hot when you wear that~♥" he eyed her up and down as Kara could only smile in satisfaction, it was all she wanted to hear him say.

His cock twitched for her to sit on it, him making it twitch himself as she licked her lips just already thinking of fucking him senseless, of her being fucked senseless for that matter by riding him for a change.

"I want to fucking ride you, you dirty boy~♡♡" she said with a lustful tone, making a suggestable remark much to his surprise by what she called him.

"Ohhhh, I love it when you talk dirty to me~♥" he purred as he sat up toward her, his hands driving up to her skirt and shorts, where his hand felt her red and gold outlined shorts. "May I?" he asked to remove them.

Kara gasped in surprise and smiled at him, nodding for him to go on ahead and remove her shorts.

With the green light given, he began to slowly take off Kara's red and gold shorts, while looking back at her a few times and giving her a suggestive smile. Kara bit her lip as she felt her shorts reaching down her legs.

Before long, her short shorts soon went down to her boots, giving her the opportunity to take them off before she could begin to fuck her boyfriend.

She took her boots off before lifting her feet over the shorts that were dropped down from her skirt by Y/N who watched her in ecstasy, Kara proceeding to show her boyfriend the shorts before throwing them to the side with her giggling softly.

Once again, she pushed him gently back down onto their bed, climbing on top of him next as she then hovered her pussy over his cock after getting a good grip on it.

Supergirl looked at Y/N for approval to have her guide his cock into her pussy, he gave the nod and instantly, a shade of pink spreaded across Kara's face.

"{Oh fuck!}" she said with pleasure in her native language, Kryptonese. "Oh! Ah! Yeah!" she moaned out loud, beginning to bounce on his cock up and down gently.

The afternoon sun shined on through the curtains, illuminating off of Kara's suit and perfect petite body.

"Ohhhh Karrra" Y/N groaned her name, feeling her walls clench around his cock as she bounced up and down, up and down, and wouldn't stop doing so.

Her bounces were slow and gentle, she was trying to be careful of her own strength on the other hand, not wanting to break her boyfriend in half since she was a full-blood Kryptonian, it was said she was stronger than Superman.

Faster? It's been proven before.

But stronger is still something she and her cousin still contemplate to this day, she can do anything her cousin can, but her willpower is pure and intent, she once used a Green Lantern ring as proof which requires a ton of Willpower.

"Mmmmm" Kara rocked her head back slightly, moaning in pleasure, it definitely felt much more better than it did the first time, the feeling of his cock inside of her walls, penetrating her as she continued to rode him like riding a bull.

She grinded and bounced more forcibly, her flesh smacking and making contact with his with an audible smack as the two moaned in unison.

Y/N opened his eyes to look into Kara's as she looked back down at him, her cheeks blushing pink with pleasure as her mouth was wide open, her moaning intensifying as the two began to laugh softly at one another.

"Ohhh fuck me, Supergirl~♡!" Y/N said with a dirty attitude, staring straight into Kara's eyes as she smiled, drunk on his cock before the two began to make out with her leaning down on him.

She bounced her ass up and down, up and down, grinding on his manhood and wasn't stopping anytime soon with his hands on her ass, groping her perfect ass cheeks, small audible claps happening as the two continued making out.

"Mmmm, yeah!" Kara moaned into Y/N's lips, the two fighting for tongue dominance soon after again as Y/N began to steady himself and began bouncing his waist up into her as her ass clapped down on him. "Ahh!" she moaned out, surprised by the effort from her boyfriend.

Supergirl pulled her lips away from him so her boyfriend could breathe, and so she could look at him in the eyes, a ecstatic smile creeping up her face while her mouth hanged open. "Hahaha" she laughed softly with her ass cheeks slapping off his thighs softly and gently.

Y/N bit his lip while he looked at Kara in the eyes, she looked so gorgeous and he couldn't stop staring into her baby blues, her cape and skirt bounced around as she continued bouncing and their flesh slapping off each other with the boy giving some effort to thrust up in her in unison of her bouncing.

"Jesus, Kara... You. Are. So... B-Beautiful" he said in between thrusts up into Kara's pussy, with Kara giggling in pleasure after his words left his mouth, her hands explored his chest and soon she used his chest to support herself.

This gave him the opportunity to once again, grope Kara's breasts, his eyes soon tracing out the S on her crop-top, meanwhile, Kara grabbed one end of her red and gold outlined cape and then the other end before wrapping it around her and onto Y/N's chest, lifting it up a little to wrap herself a little too as she smiled down at him.

It was then Y/N lifted Kara's crop top up a little, witnessing her perfect tits jiggle up and down along with her bouncing as he went to grope them, to satisfy her further with him massaging her breasts.

"I. Love you. So much" Kara blurted out, drunk on his cock still as she continued bouncing with a rough intent now, knowing he can take it just like last time.

"I love... You too. My sweetheart" Y/N managed to say out to her, feeling a rising tension in his cock with it twitching more inside of her with every bounce she did on it, her walls began to get even tighter as well... Which meant one thing.

She was coming close to finishing and so was he, but not yet...

Her moans soon turned softer each passing bounce she done, their flesh bouncing off each other more violently as her tongue hanged out of her mouth with her eyes rolling back for a minute, some saliva dripped down from her tongue and onto Y/N's chest as he stared at her passionately.

He never thought this would be his life going forward, being the boyfriend of Supergirl and getting to fuck her when the opportunity would come by, now being his second time having sex with her, and it seemed to be better than last time.

Being rode upon by the Girl of Steel was hot in his eyes, just watching her bounce on him while her hair, cape and skirt bounced and billowed with her as a pink blush sprung violently across her cheeks just set it up perfectly, to think this was what he once fantasized since the first time, he felt more than happy right now.

He felt free...

"{Oh fuck me, I'm all yours!} she said in her native language once again, he didn't know what she meant but it sounded good and pleasuring, let alone, it sounded hot to him.

"It's so fucking hot when you speak in Kryptonese" he knew it was her native language, he wasn't an expert at it but Kara promised to teach him one day.

"Remind me to teach you some after this!" she managed to say before letting out a big moan of pleasure. "Ohhhhh fuuuuck!!" her tongue once again hanged out her mouth with her eyes rolling back.

Y/N on the other hand rocked his head back in complete pleasure, his face clenching with satisfactory enjoyment with Kara's walls beginning to tense up even more than before, wrapping around his cock like a big bear hug but with a pleasuring feeling.

From once he thought Kara could break him in half? She was surprisingly good at controlling her strength during this, she always feared about having sex with a normal human could come with repercussions, but she was proven wrong with her first time with Y/N, though she still had to keep her strength in check, just in case. 

"Oh-Oh fuck!" Kara dug her nails into the fabric of her red and gold outlined cape. "Y/N, I-I" she moaned and stammered as her juices began to squirt out after ten-more-minutes of non-stop bouncing and grinding on her boyfriend's manhood. "I'm cuuuummming!!!" she cried out loud, tears brimming near her eyes as her blush deepened, her toes clenching as she let her juices flow and spread like a water-fountain, some of her juices bursting out of her pussy while she kept bouncing up and down on his cock, and onto his pelvis.

"Oh, fuck I'm gonna cum too!" Y/N felt the pressure rising in his manhood, twitching inside her, she could even feel it in her twitching.

After a few more bounces and thrusts, he let his juices fly inside of her next, Kara gasped in shock as Y/N moaned out in little notions before a big groan escaped him, signaling that he finished in her.

His eyes opened soon after finishing, staring right up at his beautiful girlfriend before Kara leaned down on him and kissed him straight onto the lips once more, he breathed a little heavy but Kara didn't seem to be breathing heavily, Kryptonian Physiology and all her powers said it all.

She found it cute to hear him out of breath after just bouncing on his cock for the last twenty-to-twenty-five minutes. It was a cute sight to behold too with him out of breath from it all after thrusting up in her too.

Their make out session continued for another two-minutes before Supergirl pulled back for Y/N to breath again with his eyes opening slowly along with hers.

She looked so elegant, so perfect, yet she chose him... She chose him to fall in love with, he wasn't perfect, but Kara wasn't perfect also, she's said it herself before.

He was lucky... It was all he could say.

"How was that for a cold treat huh?" she called back and joked before giggling away, Y/N softly laughed at her as they stared into each other's eyes.

"I'm all yours, Supergirl... I'm all yours" he said to her with a sweet tone of sense, making her smile as she plopped down next to him, with his and her juices escaping her entrance. Her long cape spreaded out over the bed and underneath her, some of the fabric landing on Y/N's torso 

"And I'm all yours too, don't ever forget that, hun~♡" she smiled, placing a hand on his cheek as she sat up a little, continuing to make out with him for the next few moments they spent together...

________________________________________________________________________________

Fin...

Word Count: 7366

[justtwotired]

could you write something in which the reader discovers that regulus has become a death eater, and everything that comes with it ? except they're in a relationship or have feelings for each other !

i love your writing, thanks <3

Yesss, of course! I don’t know what pronounce you’d have wanted but I’m going with a F!reader for this one, you can always ask me to change it ofc🤍

His dorm was empty as they laid cuddled up in his bed. She felt him starting to relax more as he was half asleep. He didn’t notice her fiddling with his sleeve.

She clipped the button of, and then on again. She pulled on it and turned, she didn’t really know what she was doing, she was a bit bored and not tired.

Her eyes caught something under his sleeve and slowly she started to pull the sleeve down as her eyes got big.

Regulus’ half conscious mind suddenly picked up on what’s was happening and shot up, grabbing his sleeve and pulling it up as he got out of the bed.

She did as well. “What was that?” She demanded to know. “Amour, listen-” he tried as he turned to her to meet her hardened gaze. He never told her about his family’s plans, he didn’t know what she was making of the story, but he knew it was bad as she had never looked at him like this.

“Regulus what was on your arm?” She knew what it was, she just wanted to hear him say it, see if he regretted it. “Y/n I promise it is not what you think.” He said as he felt his voice crack and tears started to fill his eyes but he just blinked them away.

“It isn’t what I think? So that wasn’t the dark mark on your arm?” She huffed sarcastically. “Please just hear me out, love.” He took a few steps towards her and she did one step back.

“You have two minutes.” She said and he noticed she herself was really trying to keep the tears looking in her eyes where they where.

“I didn’t want it, alright, I always knew I would be forced to get the mark, I just believed it would be when I turned seventeen, I thought I could run for it- they just took me by surprise last summer.” He looked away from her and she just watched him.

She didn’t know what to answer, she also didn’t know if she should believe him. She blinked and then turned on her heel towards the door. He didn’t waste a second and grabbed her wrist to stop her.

She turned back to him with a small glare. “Let me go, Regulus.” She said trough gritted teeth. “Please say anything else.” It was almost as if he was begging, and for a second, her gaze softened as she had never seen him this vulnerable.

The second didn’t last long as she pulled her arm towards herself in a weak attempt to break free, but they both knew he was much stronger then her. She pulled again and then used her other hand to try and pry his fingers of her.

He took her wrist with the other hand and she suddenly noticed, his grip wasn’t rough at all, he was just holding her almost lovingly.

“Reg, please.” Her voice cracked and she sounded almost miserable, then she looked him in the eyes for the first time since finding out. His grip weakened… and then he let go of her.

“I am so, so sorry.” He whispered and the first tears rolled down his face, her face softened again, never in her life had she seen him cry, she had never see him this vulnerable.

It almost made her pull him in for a hug… almost.

She didn’t know what to do, she wanted time to think, wanted to leave and take a very long walk over the grounds.

“I’m sorry, Regulus.” She said and then left the dorm.

———

On Monday, three days later, she arrived at her history of magic lesson and sat down in her assigned seat, the lesson starting soon after, yet the chair next to her staid empty.

She turned around in her seat and looked at Barty behind her. “Where is Regulus?” She whispered. “In our dorm, he hasn’t left his bed since Friday.” He whispered back.

“What? Has he even been eating?” She asked and he shook his head. “We brought him food but he never ate it, we thought you would know what happened.” Evan decided to take part of the conversation too. “Yeah, he did mumble something about you in his sleep- it was actually the one only time he slept, I don’t think he has slept at all after that.” He said honestly.

Her eyes grew wide and then she sighed. “That absolute moron.” She said and stood up, leaving the class. Not that Binns would find out anyway.

On her way to the dungeons she stopped by the kitchens where she asked the house-elves for some food which they happily provided.

Muttering the Slytherin password, she stepped into the common room and then walked to the sixth years boy dormitory. She opened the door, to which he did not react at all.

“You’re a bloody asshole you know that.” She said and he looked up at her in surprise and shock. “Y/n.” He said with a small sigh and she walked over to his bed. “You can’t just stop eating and sleeping, do you know how bad that is for you? You could have ended up in the hospital!” She scolded as she handed him a sandwich she got from the kitchen.

He just stared at it and then at her. “Well go on, eat it, otherwise I might push it down your throat.” She told him and he hesitated but took a bite anyway. It didn’t take long before it was all eaten.

“I’m sorry about Friday, it’s just- I needed some time to think and hadn’t thought about how unfair it would be to you. I understand that you had no choice, but I guess I was just scared.” She sighed and something in his eyes broke.

“You where scared of me?” He asked, it was the first time he had spoken to her since she came barging into his room. “No! Not of you! Just what this would bring for the future, I was scared for you, scared for what would happen to you.” She admitted and he relaxed a bit.

“I’m sorry for not telling you. I will be alright, Y/n, everything is going to be fine, I promise.” He said and she looked up with a small smile.

“Can you do one thing for me?” She asked and he nodded hastily. “Yes, of course.” He quickly said. “Great, get some fucking sleep you blithering idiot.” She said and he breathed out a laugh.

He pulled her by the arm and made her lay next to him. She cuddled up to him and it didn’t take long for either of them to fall asleep.

[brokenpieces-72]

Home for Holidays

Monster! 141 (mostly Soap) x Hybrid female Reader (jackalope/wendigo)

This is a continuation of the previous fanfic on my page. The only context you need it that the reader is teenager. Mentions @diejager reader character Hunter and is based on designs by @bluegiragi

CW/TW: Mentions of trauma, abuse, family trauma, punishment, origins of wendigo, crying, angst, let me know if I’ve missed anything.

Soon enough Holidays come around and there are no signs of your handler returning to base. Which means you’ll likely be alone on base on the holidays. It’s not the first time so that’s okay but you do get jealous when plans are brought up in conversation.

“So what’ll you be doin lass?” Johnny asks. His friendly face becomes a small frown when you shrug.

“Maybe I’ll just stay on base with Ghost…not sure what else there is. Nowhere to go really…” You say shrugging. Johnny’s brother side comes out in full swing, not just for you but for Simon as well. He knows Simon uses the holidays for his own needs, and doesn’t really stay on base the whole time. Leaving you behind didn’t feel fair to him. Not only that but it’s not fair to you, to have to sit in your room by yourself bored out of your mind.

Johnny makes some calls after that and soon learns there’ll be some paperwork but he doesn’t care. It’ll be worth it.

Nikolai comes to pick people up to take home, and Johnny has you already packed and it basically bouncing on your bed to get you to wake up.

“Come on wheels up lass!”

He’s carrying the duffel you had when you came and hands it to you.

“But-“ you’re half awake as you try to protest.

“No questions. Come on.” He says and you both get on the helicopter. Rudy and Alejandro say good bye to you before you leave and give you a gift to open on Christmas as does Gaz and Price. Ghost sees you off and you tell him you hope he enjoys the privacy.

Johnny takes you to his hometown, and when you land he explains that he made some calls home. And then to Laswell, and the program and few others to make sure everything was sorted.

“Ma didn wantya to be alone. Just know you’ll be put to work still…got dat?” You nod and he takes you to his house after you land, where you meet Soap’s mother and Soap’s older brother. His mother comments a bit on your appearance saying you look a little pale and could afford to put on a couple pounds. Soap gives her a look but you shake it off saying you have been. She gives you a warm smile and helps you find your room.

You have a good time on your leave and it feels a little odd to you. Your family was way different, but Johnny’s is cozy and kind and teasing. You join in on jabs at him, and help around the house as best you can, learning more basic skills like cooking and chopping wood. Johnny takes you to a few different places around, along with his brother, and you even meet a couple of his football buddies. They’re friendly and tell you some stories about Johnny. They ask about the ears and antlers. Johnny lets you answer how you choose, whether it’s as a jackalope or a wendigo. At some point he leaves you with his friends to take care of something and when he comes back, he sees you talking and having a good conversation with them. It’s hard to imagine you were once this simple, shy, apologetic kid and now you had grown into a friendly, healthy teenager.

One night you and Johnny take a minute to relax on a bench before continuing your walk home. The two of you had just left his friend and their partner at a store, and the walk home would be long. Johnny could handle walking in the dark but wanted you to be safe too. You both look out at the street lit up by garlands of lights and shop windows. It was good to finally take a break after all the walking around. You watch people go by and notice body language you didn’t often see on base. Couples holding hands, kids running and skipping, snowballs being thrown, parents swinging their kids. You lean against your knees, following Johnny’s sitting position.

“Are all families like this?” You ask. Johnny notices where you had been looking and shrugs.

“Nah all of em. The good ones are.” Johnny ponders for a moment before inquiring. “Take it you didn ave that.”

You shake your head.

“Wha were they like?” He asks. You go very quiet, and he pays closer attention. It’s not an easy subject, your parents were mean and obsessive over your hybrid features. You were outcasted and isolated. Christmas was a rough time, as you would see people happy outside but never felt the same way.

“…they…they used to yell at me. Sometimes hit me.” You confessed. Johnny looks at you. “It kept escalating… sometimes it was burns or no food for a day. Then one day they grounded me and put me in the basement.” You pause for a shaky breath feeling your throat tighten up. Johnny lets you continue at your own pace. “They gave me raw meat and told me there was nothing else…”

You’re shaking recalling the horrid memory of how you became a wendigo. Your family wasn’t normal and your parents weren’t sane. You only found out how insane they were when it was too late. How cultish they could be.

Johnny doesn’t need you to finish, and instead moves closer to you on the bench and holds you tight. The tears just come down and you nestle into his winter jacket. You feel a gloved hand on your head keeping you close.

“You didn do anythin wrong.” He tells you over and over, tucking your head under his chin. “You’re a good kid. Don’ forgae ‘at.”

You finally pull away after a while and he asks if you’re ready to keep going. You nod, he gives you his arm to cling to while you head home. There are still tears but your face is stinging from the cold, and you’d rather be inside. Johnny tries to change the subject or make some jokes with you. He gets a couple giggles for his dad jokes. When you finally get back, Johnny’s mother notices your tears and gets you some water. She doesn’t ask about it and lets her son handle everything while you curl up on the couch with him watching Die Hard.

You feel more and more comfortable snuggling up to Soap, and he you. He’s taken to calling you ‘pup’ and ‘whelp’. When you walk in to relax with him he offers to shift for you so you can have a soft pillow to rest against. It doesn’t take long before his brother and mother are friendly with you too, spending some alone time with them as well. His mother has taken a shine to you, often asking for some help in the kitchen or showing you cute videos she found online. There’s a couple of Facebook posts usually involving the Grinch or Peanuts cartoons that you find cute, and smile at.

His mom expresses concern multiple times about your wardrobe, noticing you wear the same items in a row.

“If ya wouldna mind me askin dear, didn ya wear that shirt yesterday?”

“Y-yes. Is that bad?” You ask.

“No no of curse not, it’s a nice shirt, but doncha ave other clothes?” She asks. When you shake your head she sets down whatever she is working on. It doesn’t take long for her to check if any of her sons’ old clothes will fit you. The clothes are a little baggy on you, even with the couple extra pounds you’ve gained while staying there but they’ll work. Especially since they’ll likely get torn anyways when you back to base. Honestly his mother is glad they’ll be put to use, and they’re some of the few clothes she has that are intact since Johnny’s form often rips his clothing.

Christmas Eve comes around and Soap is up early for his workout and his mother is up for her meal prep.

“Aye ma? Canna ask you somethin?” Soap asks quietly, not wanting to wake you or give you the chance to hear him.

“Yes?”

“Whatcha think of the lass?”

She takes a moment to think about it.

“Lovely child. Takes after ya a bit moore than I’d like.” She teases. Johnny smiles before unloading a bit on to his mother. “They don’t ave anywhere else to go after this, unless Price keeps em. So it got me thinkin uhh…” his tail twitches awkwardly as she takes note of his tone. His mom has seen how her sons’ tails react when they get a certain way. Before he can ask she answers the question.

“I think ya need to think this over some more. I wouldna mind it… but she’s got as much of a say as you do. Honestly she’s a lovely lass, and I know you’ve taken a shine to her. More than a shine, yer practically her brother. You’ve told me what she is, and I have no qualms but ya better be here for her too. I’m not dealin’ with a hybrid under my roof, alone and at my age.”

“I will ma, thank you.” Johnny decides to bring it up later when you guys head back to base.

Christmas comes and it’s overwhelming for someone unused to large close gatherings. Johnny and his brother make it a habit for at least one of them to stay close to you. Their relatives ask tou questions and get to know you. You don’t unload like you did with Johnny, but when your past comes up you do respond.

“Well my adoptive parents were pretty bad, so after that my social worker put me in the program for rehabilitation and relocation I guess.”

When you get the chance you slip away to take a breath, and relax a bit. The whole situation is crazy after being on a such an isolated family. The holidays weren’t exactly great for you, and sometimes you were alone to open gifts by yourself. The gifts were strange too, often in the form of weird books and strange toys. Looking back, to any normal person the gifts should have been red flags. Johnny finds you soon enough, and asks if you just want some time to yourself.

“This is normal? Spending holidays like this?” You ask. He nods.

“Never got ‘at back ‘ome.”

You shake your head. Johnny isn’t one to show vulnerability but damn you make it hard.

“Fairly normal. You open your gifts yet?” He asks. “Come on we’re about to start opening them.”

You get up and follow him, carrying the gifts you got from the 141 into the living room, and sit down. Anyone seeing the scene would know you were out of place, as everyone was either human or a werewolf. Johnny’s mom sits by you, and has a gift for you too. You open it and you laugh, finding a hoodie for Johnny’s favourite football team. Johnny looks over and basically cheers seeing the hoodie. The gifts from the team are a journal and some stationary and a sketchbook. They’re simple gifts sure but they’re better than anything you had gotten before. They were yours.

Next couple days you spend collecting and drawing around the area. You take the journal everywhere, writing about the things you see and draw your own ideas.

During a visit to a restaurant you notice some humans and draw them as hybrids, giving them tails and wings. Any common or ugly looks from other humans go ignored as you focus on the pencils and paper before you.

Your journal gets filled with cards, photos, stickers, scribbles and a couple of miscellaneous items you find like leaves, flowers and feathers. It’s not long before items are poking out from between the pages marking your progress. You write plenty of thoughts, and even a couple stories about the items you find.

[cressidagrey]

The Starlight Princess: Prologue

Summary:

There is a Pool of Starlight in the Spring Court. A piece of the Night Court that has no business being in the land of Eternal Spring. So how did it come to be?

Or: How the Spymaster of the Night Court starts hearing a voice, realises that no, he is not insane after all, frees a princess, kills a High Lord…and finds his mate all at the same time.

Warnings:

Discussion of a flirtation 300 years in the past, Discussion of the Death of Rhys' Mother and Sister, Feyre being nosy, Cassian serving all the gossip

(thanks to @tsunami-of-tears for the dividers!)

“Can I ask you a question?” 

If Feyre could still ask him that question, Cassian was pretty sure that he was definitely not hard enough on his High Lady. 

They were back to training, even hard-won peace was not a time where one could slack off…and Feyre had wanted to return to it after the pregnancy with Nyx and everything that had happened. 

So…Cassian got to teach his High Lady. 

And his curiosity was piqued now. “Yes, of course,” he responded carefully.  What was this about now? What question did Feyre have for him? 

“What was her name?” Feyre blurted out and he stared at her. 

Of all the questions, she could have asked of him, that one was not one he had expected. 

“Whose name?” Cassian asked. Who was she talking about? What name didn’t she know? What name…

“Rhys’ sister,” Feyre clarified. “What was her name?”

Oh. 

That question…

Well, he understood why she had come to him with that question. Though it did surprise him that Rhys had never…never even mentioned her name to Feyre. That he had never…

Cassian remembered her. Of course, he did. Even centuries after her death, she wasn’t somebody Cassian would ever forget. Not just because of who her big brother was, but because…

He would never forget seeing her unattached head. 

He would never forget Rhys’ screams of utter turmoil and terror. He would never…He would never…He would never forget that cold wrath on his face…Would never forget everything that happened afterwards…How Rhys had become High Lord, his ascension overshadowed by the death of his sister and mother…and his father…a whole family snuffed out. 

And for what? 

But even without all of that…Cassian would never forget her. 

He would never forget the girl seemingly glowing with magic, the perfect princess, controlled within an inch of her life. 

There had only been very few things that could crack that perfect facade…

His brother had been one of them. 

“Seren. Her name was Seren,” Cassian answered the question finally, his voice hoarse. “Rhys never told you her name?” 

It didn’t lay quite right with him. But then, if there was one thing that he had…realised centuries ago, then that everybody grieved differently. 

Some took comfort in talking about the fallen…and then there were some who didn’t speak of it at all. 

Cassian had seen both. 

He could understand both in a sense. 

And Rhys���in a lot of ways, he fit the second. 

“No. He has talked about her…sometimes…but…” Feyre shook her head. 

“Her name was Seren,” he repeated again, for one moment fondly remembering her as a child. She had been…She had been beautiful. A spitting image of Rhys in a sense, the same dark hair, the same startling violet eyes…her magic dancing on her skin, and her innate abilities on display. The older she had grown, the more she had reigned all of it in. He still didn’t know if it had been her father’s fault or if she herself had realised that she was putting herself at risk, by showing her abilities that obviously. 

 “She was also called the Princess of Starlight by the people of Velaris…When she was a kid, she used to glow with magic,” he continued with a soft smile. 

She had been stunning. 

Still half a girl, not yet a female grown the last time he had seen her, over a year before her death…

She hadn’t deserved her death. But then who did? 

Nesta had reminded him of her often…The similarities were definitely there. Both had been more blunt than anything, though that habit had been beaten out of Seren by her father until she acted like the princess she was supposed to be. But he had never managed to break her will. Iron-willed and with a spine made out of fucking adamantium…Seren had been a sight to behold. 

“Did you know her well?” Feyre asked him curiously, but he shook his head

“I did know her, but I wasn’t…I was never that close to her…by the time she was…by the time she was born, we were all adults. She was just 17 when she died. Rhys was in Illyria...I was a grunt in the army…The one that was closest to her was Azriel,” he recounted. 

A noise of surprise escaped Feyre. 

“Azriel?” she repeated, surprise colouring her tone. 

Cassian nodded, swallowing. It was something that was unspoken, never voiced aloud. 

But Azriel had taken her death the hardest, giving himself the fault for something that wasn’t his fault.

Then, Azriel had already been Spymaster. And Cassian knew…Cassian knew that Azriel still thought that his shadows should have been accompanying Seren and her mother when Tamlin and his brothers had ambushed them. 

Azriel still thought that he should have known that this was a possibility…should have been aware of the risk. Should have prevented it from ever happening. 

“He used to work for Rhys’ father,” Cassian said quietly. He didn’t want to even imagine the horror of these years for Azriel. He knew that this was still something, centuries later, that Azriel muddled through. “And I always…” Cassian broke off, not daring to voice it aloud. 

“What?” Feyre asked curiously. 

“They were close,” he finally said quietly.  “Seren was three weeks shy of her 18th Birthday when she died. I always wondered if…if she had made it…if three weeks later, the mating bond wouldn’t have snapped for them.” He had had that thought so often over the centuries. 

Wondered if Seren’s death hadn’t taken away every chance of a mating bond his brother had…a chance at happiness. 

Feyre stared at him, blue eyes wide. 

“Was Azriel in love with her? What about Mor?” she asked, quietly, and Cassian shrugged. 

“I don’t think he ever would have allowed himself to act on it,” Cassian said carefully. “She was a princess and he was just an Illyrian bastard. But he would have given his life for her. Do not doubt that for a second, Feyre. She was so young when she died. Too young. And Azriel would have never allowed himself to act on whatever he was feeling…And even if…Mor and him…He knew that that would have never worked out. He knew that then. And I think that after Seren died, he just clung even tighter to Mor.”

Mor was still alive. Mor was the only one that Azriel could still protect because in his mind he had failed horribly with Seren.

“Seren was…she was pure political capital,” he said darkly. “Her father was very much aware of that. He would have married her off to any other court in this land…and a mating bond with Azriel wouldn’t have stopped him. He was already planning on it…The perfect princess with starlight dancing at her fingertips…and daemati abilities that make you and Rhys look like a bad magic trick humans conjured up,” he recounted with a snort. 

Nobody had ever stood up to Seren’s mental abilities. None. 

“She was better at it than Rhys?” Feyre asked, a small smile on her face and Cassian couldn’t help but laugh softly. 

“Even Rhys was powerless against her. He may had more magic…but Seren wasn’t to be underestimated. She plucked thoughts out of your head without anybody noticing. It was…startling. And even her own father knew…” 

“Knew what?” Feyre asked as he hesitated. 

“He knew that one day there was going to come a time where his children would topple his throne…a day where Seren and Rhys would join forces…and not even the cauldron could have helped him then.”

[shitsndgiggs]

I hope that you're having a good day.... and I have a request if you would like to consider it... so here is the thing.... what about kenan yildiz x reader who has like physical characteristics of Snow White... and when she goes to the one of his matches... and kinda gets famous because she is his girlfriend.... fans and his teammates start like to tease him but in a cute way about reader called a Snow white by his fans in real life... this is a personal request of mine.... because my friends have nickname for me a Snow white...

Sending you lots of love and positive energy ❤️

HIS SNOW WHITE - KENAN YILDIZ

In which Kenan’s girlfriend gets a new nickname

Kenan Yildiz x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

The stadium was electric with excitement, the crowd's roar echoing through the stands as I found my seat.

It was my first time attending one of Kenan's matches, and I could hardly contain my excitement. As I settled in, I noticed the curious glances from those around me.

Some were whispering, others pointing subtly in my direction. I was used to the attention my appearance garnered—I had often been told I looked like Snow White with my fair skin, dark hair, and bright red lips.

Today was no different, but the attention felt more intense than usual.

Kenan had given me a ticket close to the pitch, ensuring I had the best view. As the players warmed up on the field, I spotted him almost immediately.

He caught my eye and waved, a wide smile spreading across his face. I waved back, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks.

The game was thrilling, with Kenan playing exceptionally well. Every time he made a great play, I found myself cheering louder than anyone else around me.

By halftime, the people sitting near me had started to engage in conversation.

"You're Kenan's girlfriend, right?" a young woman next to me asked.

I nodded, smiling. "Yes, I am. I'm Y/N."

"Wow, you really do look like Snow White," another fan said, and soon, more people around us joined in, complimenting my looks and expressing their admiration for Kenan. It was overwhelming but in the best way possible.

As the second half began, I noticed some of Kenan's teammates glancing up at me and whispering to each other. A few even pointed in my direction, grinning widely.

When Kenan scored a goal, he looked up to where I was sitting and blew a kiss, earning cheers and playful jeers from his teammates.

After the match, I made my way to the area where players greeted their friends and family. Kenan was surrounded by his teammates, all of whom were in high spirits after their victory.

As soon as he spotted me, he broke away from the group and jogged over, pulling me into a tight hug.

"You were amazing!" I exclaimed, hugging him back.

"Thanks, Snow White," he teased, winking at me. "Seems like you've made quite the impression."

I laughed, shaking my head. "I guess the nickname is sticking."

Just then, a few of Kenan's teammates approached us, wide grins on their faces. One of them, Weston, nudged Kenan playfully. "So, this is your Snow White, huh? She's even more beautiful in person."

Kenan rolled his eyes but smiled proudly. "Yes, this is Y/N. And yes, she’s my Snow White."

Another teammate, Timothy, leaned in conspiratorially. "Kenan, you've got to bring her to all our matches. She's clearly our good luck charm."

I blushed, feeling a bit embarrassed by the attention. "I don’t know about that, but I’ll do my best to be there."

Kenan squeezed my hand, looking at me with a mixture of affection and amusement. "See? Even my teammates know you're special."

As we made our way to the car, more fans stopped us to take pictures and chat. Many of them addressed me as Snow White, which Kenan found endlessly amusing.

"You know, I think you might be more famous than me now," he joked as we finally got some alone time in the car.

I laughed, shaking my head. "I highly doubt that. But it’s sweet how everyone’s been so welcoming."

Kenan reached over and took my hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. "They can see what I see—how amazing you are. I'm so lucky to have you by my side."

We spent the evening celebrating with his teammates, who continued to tease him about his "fairy tale romance." Despite the playful jabs, it was clear they were genuinely happy for us.

Kenan never missed an opportunity to show his affection, whether it was a gentle kiss on my forehead or a protective arm around my waist.

Later that night, as we finally headed home, Kenan turned to me, his expression soft and full of love. "Thank you for being there today. It meant the world to me."

I smiled, leaning in to kiss him. "I wouldn't have missed it for anything. And who knows? Maybe this Snow White will bring you even more good luck."

He chuckled, pulling me closer. "As long as I've got you, I know I’m the luckiest man in the world."