#and fell asleep in the arms of his abusive father

[valleyfthdolls]

But god if I’m not thinking about the fact that Cassidy was abandoned in that fucking storage closet

[rottenfyre]

⸻ ᴛ ʜ ᴇ ᴅ ʀ ᴀ ɢ ᴏ ɴ ᴋ ɴ ɪ ɢ ʜ ᴛ ⸻

Pairing: Dark Aemon Targaryen x Fem Reader

Summary: Aemon was sworn to the Kingsguard, bound by vows to serve the realm. But his heart, his mind, and his soul belonged to one person: You.

Warning: Obsession, Targcest, Abuse.

Notes: English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

Y/N was born screaming, a tiny bundle with silver-gold hair and violet eyes, so much like his own. Aemon had stood by the door of their mother's chambers, watching through the crack as maesters and midwives bustled around. When the first wails reached his ears, a peculiar emotion lodged itself in his chest—something fierce and consuming.

As they grew, Aemon shadowed her every step. In the gardens, he held her hand to keep her from tripping over roots. In the halls, he stood between her and the brash court boys who sought her attention. When she cried, he was the one who wiped her tears and whispered soft promises of safety.

He was her knight, even before he swore the oaths.

“Stay with me,” she’d whisper during storms, her tiny fingers clutching his. “Don’t leave me alone.”

And he never did. Not when their father looked to wed her off, not when their elder brother Aegon sneered at her defiance.

When Y/N fell from a tree at the age of six, breaking her arm, it was Aemon who carried her all the way back to the Red Keep, tears streaming down his face as he whispered over and over, "I’ll never let you get hurt again."

While their elder brother, Aegon, taunted her and treated her with disdain, Aemon stood by her side, always her shield. To him, she was the only thing in the world worth protecting, the only light in the grim reality of court life.

But with time, his devotion deepened into something darker. Aemon began to watch her in ways he shouldn’t. When she laughed with other boys, his hands clenched into fists. When she danced in the Great Hall, her skirts spinning, he felt a possessive pang in his chest. He told himself it was just brotherly love, but in the quiet hours of the night, he couldn’t lie.

When Aemon took his Kingsguard vows, Y/N thought it would grant her some freedom. Surely now, as a sworn brother, he would focus on his duty and leave her be. But instead, his obsession deepened.

She could have ignored it, chalked it up to his overbearing nature, but a part of her—curious, wicked, and far too aware of her own power—began to toy with him.

At first, it was subtle: a brush of her hand against his arm, a smile that lingered a moment too long. But as the years passed, she pushed further. She let her gowns dip lower, allowed her laughter to ring louder, and relished the way his fists clenched and his jaw tightened.

“You shouldn’t look at me like that, Aemon,” she whispered once, leaning closer than propriety allowed. “It’s unbecoming of a knight.”

He stiffened, his cheeks coloring, but his voice was firm. “You’re my sister. My duty.”

“And yet,” she murmured, her lips grazing his ear, “you burn for me, don’t you?”

Aemon rationalized it as chivalry. He wasn’t breaking his vows, he told himself. He was merely protecting her virtue, her honor. When men looked at her too long, he would make them regret it. Sometimes with a glare. Other times with blood.

He began to visit her chambers late at night, his armor clinking softly in the darkness. He never touched her—not at first. He simply sat by her bedside, watching her sleep.

One night, when she was fast asleep, her lips slightly parted, Aemon found himself by her bedside. The moonlight spilled over her face, highlighting her beauty, her perfection. His heart thudded painfully as he leaned closer, so close he could feel the faint warmth of her breath. He lowered his lips to hers in a featherlight kiss. It was fleeting, but the taste of her lingered, burning into his soul.

“You’re too beautiful for this world,” he would murmur, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “The gods made you to torment me.”

Y/N was sixteen when her marriage was announced—a political alliance to a powerful lord with no love for the Targaryens.

He stormed into the royal solar, his hand on the hilt of his sword, and demanded the match be annulled.

“She belongs here, with her family, your grace.” he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

Aegon laughed cruelly, mocking him for his attachment. “Perhaps you’d like to take her to your bed instead, little brother? The Kingsguard vows be damned?”

The words hung heavy in the air. Aemon’s knuckles turned white around his sword hilt, but he said nothing.

On the eve of her wedding, Aemon found Y/N in her chambers, staring at the gown laid out for her. She turned to him, tears glistening in her violet eyes.

“I don’t want this,” she whispered. “But what choice do I have?”

Aemon stepped closer, his gloved hands trembling as he reached for her. “You always have a choice,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “Come with me. We can leave this place. We can ran away and never look back.”

Tears spilled down her cheeks as she shook her head. “You know we can’t...”

And then he left without another word. Because she was right. They couldn't.

He watched her walk down the aisle in a gown of silver and gold, her face pale but resolute. Her new husband was tall, brutish, and unkind.

Aemon stood by as they exchanged vows, his chest tight with rage and despair. When her husband kissed her, Aemon turned his head away, his fists trembling.

The first time he saw her bruises was a week after the wedding. She wore long sleeves to hide them, but Aemon caught a glimpse when she reached for her goblet at dinner. His stomach churned. That night, he cried silently, helplessness consuming him.

When the tournament was announced, Aemon saw his chance. Disguised as the Knight of Tears, he won every bout with ferocious determination. When the time came to crown the queen of love and beauty, he rode to Y/N and placed the crown of winter roses in her lap, their eyes met, and for a moment, the world stood still. It was a silent promise—a vow unspoken but understood.

“You shouldn’t have,” she whispered, her fingers brushing the roses as she tear up.

“I would do it a thousand times,” he replied.

Her husband was furious, but Aemon didn’t care. In that moment, she was his.

“He is not worthy of you,” he said once, his voice tight with barely restrained anger. “He don’t see you as I do. He never will.”

She laughed sadly. “And what do you see, brother?”

“My world.” he answered, his tone so soft it made her heart skip.

One night, Y/N came to him, her face streaked with tears. Her husband had accused her of barrenness, blaming her for their lack of an heir, though she confided in Aemon that he had been unable to perform most nights. He had beaten her so badly she could hardly stand.

Aemon held her with trembling hands, his tears falling silently onto her blood-matted hair as she wept. “He said it’s my fault,” she whispered. “That I’m barren.”

Aemon’s jaw clenched, the flames of rage barely contained within him. He didn’t trust himself to speak, so he simply wiped her tears away, his touch as gentle as a prayer.

“Please,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Make me feel something other than this pain.”

That night, his vows shattered like glass. He touched her with reverence, his hands tracing every bruise, every scar, as though he could erase them. Her moans were soft, broken things, and tears streaked his face as he worshipped her. “Forgive me,” he whispered over and over, though he wasn’t sure if he was begging her or the gods.

After that night, there was no going back. They met in secret, stealing moments between court duties and battles. Aemon would ride to her chambers under the cover of darkness, shedding his white cloak at her feet as he sank to his knees before her.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he murmured one night, his forehead pressed against her stomach as she ran her fingers through his hair.

“Then die for me,” she replied.

And he would have. Without hesitation.

When Y/N bore a son, his son, Aemon’s heart swelled with a mixture of pride and sorrow. The boy looked so much like him that it was impossible to deny the truth, though no one dared to speak it. Aemon spent every possible moment with them, pretending they were a family. He taught his son to wield a wooden sword, read him tales of noble knights, and watched as Y/N smiled at the boy with a love so pure it made his heart ache.

But their happiness was fleeting.

Her husband found out. The confrontation was brutal. Aemon returned from a ride to find the halls silent, too silent. Servants cowered as he passed, their eyes avoiding his.

He arrived just in time to see the man toss something onto the cold stone floor—a child’s head, small and unmistakable.

“He cried for you,” the man spat, smirking. “Just like his whore of a mother.”

The world turned red.

Aemon didn’t remember unsheathing his sword. He didn’t remember the screams or the sickening crunch of bone as he hacked the man to pieces. When it was over, he stood in a pool of blood, his chest heaving, his vision blurred by rage and tears.

He ran to Y/N’s chamber, desperate to find her alive, to cling to the hope that she had survived. “She’s alive,” he muttered to himself as he stumbled toward her chambers. “He was lying.” But when he found her, he fell to his knees. Her body was unrecognizable, broken beyond repair. The monster had robbed her of her beauty, her light, and her life.

“No,” Aemon whispered, his voice cracking as he crawled to her. “It’s not you. It can’t be you.” He cradled her lifeless body, rocking back and forth as the weight of his grief crushed him.

“This isn’t real,” he whispered. “It’s a trick. You’ll wake up.”

But she didn’t.

He couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t live in a world where she no longer was alive.

Aemon pressed a final kiss to her cold lips, his tears falling onto her bruised skin. “Wait for me,” he whispered. “In the next life, wait for me.”

He drew his dagger and plunged it into his chest, collapsing beside her. His last breath escaped in a whisper of her name, and when the servants found them the next morning, they were entwined in death, their silver hair mingling like threads of moonlight.

@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ

[jyoongim]

Alastor loves his mother, he protected her from his father and went on a killing spree on all horrible men.

So it only makes sense that he falls in love with single mother reader yeah? Like she killed her husband to protect her child and they both ended up in hell? And Alastor just obsessing with mother reader and her child.

I haven’t written anything in a while so this might be a little wonky but i hope i did ok

———————————————————————————

Alastor hated men that treated good women terribly.

Especially if there were children in the home.

He had lived with his mother, who put up with his father’s abuse for his sake.

Until Alastor had had enough of seeing the woman he loved abused by her husband.

Despite his mother's protests.

His mother always loved his father despite how he treated them.

Love works in mysterious ways Is what his mother use to say.

He didn’t understand what that meant…

Until he met you.

The pretty doll with a tot.

From the grapevine he learned that no one had seen a husband around or a band on your finger. 

He thought it was impossible; you were a catch!

Why was a sweet thing like you without a husband?

“Would you care to stay for dinner my dear?” Alastor asked as you got up ready to go home. You had came over to give him a fruit basket, a welcome gift as you were his neighbor.

You looked at the time surprised at how long you had stayed chatting.

”Oh Al i would hate to intrude and its past this one’s bedtime” you said gesturing to the child, who had fell asleep in your arms.

Alastor hummed. He had grown quite attached to you and the little one, he had hoped you would take his invitation and stay the night.

Soon. 

You gave him a soft smile and went home.

Alastor was the most eligible bachelor in town. All the ladies swooned after him, though he never cared for the attention, but it was different with you.

He went about his evening routine when the sound of shouting could be heard.

interesting.

From the window of his kitchen, he had a perfect view into your home.

A man was standing in your living room, hands moving animatedly.

He scowled. Ah that must be your estranged husband.

You had told Alastor a bit about the man you were married to and how much of a bastard he was.

You were frowning and standing between him and your child.

The man advanced and Alastor thought to go over but to his surprise you gestured for the child to go to their room and got in the man’s face.

The two of you exchanged words and the man raised his hand and hit you. You stumbled back, seemingly shock and looked at him with disbelief and something else.

You grabbed a nearby by lamp and smashed it against his head. The man went down and you jumped on top of him, slamming the lamp down over and over until you stood back up and there was blood on your clothes.

You covered your mouth, panic set in and you ran from the room.

Alastor’s lips turned into a smile and he made his way over.

He knocked at the door, basically bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement.

You opened the door, now cleaned “A-Al? What are you-”

He feigned concern “Heard a ruckus and came to make sure you and the tot were ok” You looked back into the house and then back at him.

”We-we’re ok” you whispered.

His brows quirked, head tilting “You sure Cher?”

You bit at your lip before opening the door to let him in.

Alastor’s eyes landed on the battered body of your husband and turned to you.

You were obviously distressed “Al he-he threatened me and then hit me and I didn’t know what else to do” you approached him,  almost pleading

”Please don’t report me. Pretend you saw nothing and keep. This between us”

Alastor approached the body. He nugded it with his shoe and smiled “Oh my dear I would never.  In fact, why not leave this mess to me hm? You look worn for wear ”

You nodded and sat on your couch and had a meltdown.

You just killed a man.

Your husband.

But you had no choice.

———————————————————————————-

“So you’re telling me that you been with Smiles ever since” Angel asked shocked.

You smiled “I mean it ain’t every day a man takes care of your dead body. I knew from that moment that he was the one for me”

After the death of your husband, you and Alastor started seeing each other more intimately. 

He had let you in on his true identity and the bond between the two of you had grown stronger.

He was an excellent father to your child. The little tot had even started calling him daddy.

But fate was cruel and after many years you died, ending up in Hell for the murder of your husband.

You had found Alastor and reunited, he led you to the hotel, where the two of you lived as a couple.

”She’s full of surprises I assure you” a radio-like voice said and you turned to see Alastor entering the lobby with your child in tow.

Yes. Full of surprises. 

For he would have killed the man himself if you didn’t.

it was only right that you were now his

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Caring enough to Kill (part 2)

Part two to this. Jason confronts Bruce and when it doesn't go the way he wants it to Danny is there to pick up the pieces.

tw: Mentions of sex, descriptions of violence, abusive relationships

----

Jason stumbled back into his safehouse, clutching his bleeding throat where Bruce had cut him. He could feel the tears trapped behind the stupid Domino mask and he ripped it off, sobbing as he collapsed to the floor. He had finally done it, he had confronted Bruce, told him it was Joker or Him and Bruce had, Bruce had attacked him! 'Because he took me from you'. So pathetic, Jason had practically begged, and Bruce had nearly slit his throat. So pathetic! to have believed he still even had a father!

He could swear the tears that fell to the floor had a subtle green glow as he wept, he felt helpless, worthless, purposeless! He could feel the Pits churning inside him, burning in his veins with grief and rage that might turn him into a monster for good. He would let it, maybe escaping all this human misery would mean he didn't care so much about someone caring enough to avenge him. Maybe he would finally just be able to kill Joker himself.

A floorboard creaked and he looked up sharply. Danny, sliding through the window after him. He gave Jason a look of sympathy and concern as he approached slowly, his back hunched and his knees bent, making himself as small as he could as he kept closer.

"One of your people saw you running and called me. Jason, what happened?" Danny asked softly, reaching out to touch Jason's face.

Jason couldn't stand, couldn't stand the care, couldn't stand a gentle touch that wasn't from his father. He grabbed Danny's wrist and twisted it, startling a scream out of Danny who so rarely cried out in pain. He shouldn't have, he didn't want to, but he was not in his right mind when he threw Danny to the floor. Danny who did not fight as Jason lashed out at him Again, channeling too much rage and misery into the person who probably deserved it least, but who always let him.

He was barely aware of what he was doing as he hit and kicked, though he knew that for once Danny was actually shielding his head, curled up on the floor. The rage broke suddenly, and all that was left was the sadness and the growing dizziness and nausea of blood loss. He backed away from Danny where he was curled on the floor and slumped into an armchair.

After a drawn out moment of stillness Danny uncurled from where he was laying on the floor, he spat out a tooth and some blood as he pushed himself up to his hands and knees. Jason noticed that he had a black eye that wasn't healing as quickly as usual, had Jason broken something? Still when Danny looked up at him it was with concern not fear.

This time when he approached it was fully on his hands and knees, creeping over to Jason again, who this time stayed still and let him, Danny knelt between Jason's legs and cupped his jaw, Jason tilted his head back and to the side, bearing his neck to Danny so he could get a good look at the injury.

Danny grimaced sympathetically and kissed the corner of Jason's mouth before flitting away to the bathroom, he came back moments later with the well stocked first aid kit and knelt by Jason again. Jason stayed still, allowing Danny to gently clean the wound, stitching it up, besides the small place where it had ruptured his windpipe so the fluids would have somewhere to go besides down Jason's throat. By the time he finished and had bandaged the wound the black eye had healed as well and besides the blood on Danny's face there was no sign of what Jason had done.

There was no sign of it in Danny's behaviour either, as he curled up on Jason's lap, leaning against his chest and wrapping his arms loosely around his shoulders. There was no fear in Danny's posture, no anger. How could he love so unconditionally? Especially someone like Jason, who so clearly didn't deserve it. They stayed there until Jason fell asleep, exhaustion winning out over everything else.

Jason woke up in bed, and confused, how had Danny gotten him here without waking him?! He must have been more tired then he realized. Danny was there too, on his side next to Jason with an arm around his waist. As soon as he felt Jason stir he sat up and reached over to the bedside table where there was a bottle of water, unopened, which he offered to Jason.

He took it and drank deeply, finishing about half before he offered it back to Danny who took a few gulps as well before putting it down and laying back down with his head propped on Jason's shoulder. "I've never seen you that angry," He murmured against Jason's skin who winced, remembering just what he'd done yesterday. Danny had showered, and cleaned Jason up as best he could so there weren't really any signs of it but still...

"I'm sorry," He murmured and felt Danny shake his head.

"It's okay. I'm not upset, just worried. What happened Jason?" He asked softly.

Jason felt tears burning the back of his eyes again and he huffed, biting his lip for a moment, but Danny deserved to know. "It was my father again. I finally asked him outright why he hadn't avenged me, I basically begged him to, even let Me kill him and witness it. And you know what he did? He slit my throat to stop me, he chose the Joker over me." Jason gave a bitter little laugh, and was genuinely startled by the snarl Danny let out, he'd never heard him make a noise like that, but it continued, a deep, inhuman growl that didn't pause even when Danny spoke, creating a dark undercurrent to his voice.

"Who is your father," He asked, and Jason felt a chill run down his spine.

"Batman, but don't confront him Danny. I don't really have a father anymore. He can't change, I'd rather focus on the things I can change."

"Like the Joker's status as living?" Danny said dryly, but the growling did ease off.

Jason winced and sighed before he looked to the side. "As much as I know the world would be better off without him, something is holding me back from doing it. I do a lot of avenging people, killing rapists and traffickers and shit. Is it so bad to want to Be avenged for once?"

"No, it's not," Danny said softly. "Does it have to be Batman, or would someone else who loves you doing it be enough?" 'Would I be enough' goes unsaid.

"Yes, that would be enough."

----------

Jason's throat healed, months passed and Danny didn't mention the conversation they'd had about the Joker. Jason threw himself into work, gaining control of more of the drug trade to make sure his rules were followed. He set up safe injection sites and rehabs. He killed corrupt police, politicians, traffickers and anyone who harmed children, cleaning out his turf in the most permanent way he could, making it safe for the kids, the working girls, and everyone else who called it home without being a Complete piece of shit.

Danny kept him from completely losing himself, dragging him away from work for date nights, meals and to get some sleep. Occasionally Jason got angry, occasionally he lashed out, but Danny never held onto those times. Danny didn't only pull him away from work though, since they'd gotten together he started participating even more in Jason's work. He was no longer just a 'goon'.

He designed himself a costume, with a pattern different shades of brown and red, a muzzle covering the lower half of his face and a colour. The first time Jason had seen Danny in the tight leather... let's just say Danny hadn't kept it on for very long, Jason Really liked the collar. Danny called himself Hyena, like it was a joke Jason didn't fully understand. He was Jason's second in command and he gave orders when Red Hood wasn't around since he knew what Red Hood would want. It was almost like being able to be two places at once and Jason was incredibly grateful to Danny for it.

The Joker still being out there was the only thing that kept nagging at Jason, and as they got closer and closer to the anniversary of his death the worse it got. He thought he might have been imagining it but he though Danny was pulling away a bit too. He was busy more often then usual and distant in a way that made Jason worry he was keeping secrets, though he had no idea WHAT they might be since his life genuinely did seem to revolve around Red Hood and his mission.

When the day of his death came Danny was nowhere to be seen and Jason shut himself up on his office to focus on work, reading reports and writing responses. Doing whatever he could to try not to think about what had happened this day five years ago, and how Joker was either not thinking about it at all, or celebrating.

He had explicitly said for no one but Fox to disturb him today so when there was a pounding at a door he was ready to Fucking Kill someone! Danny never knocked like that, usually he just let himself in, so he knew that wasn't Danny. He got up from his desk so abruptly he knocked his chair over and stomped over to yank the door open.

"Please don't shoot! Hyena is in trouble!" The goon at the door, Marcus he though, cowered. Marcus got along with Danny, they might even friends, he would know.

"What happened?" Jason snarled through the voice modulator on his helmet, but he wasn't about to bite Marcus' head off anymore.

"He left your turf in costume this morning, I tried to tell him not to but he didn't listen to me! We've got reports he's on his way back but the Bats are on his tail! You have a tracker on him don't you?! He's gonna need help!" Marcus said in a panic and Jason grabbed his coat and his phone.

"Ya I do I'm not going to let them touch him," Jason snarled checking his guns before he practically bolted out of the building wondering what the Hell Danny had gotten himself into.

He grabbed his grapple and headed to meet Hyena as quickly as he could. He knew Danny was fast but Bruce and the Replacement would catch him eventually if none of the others were already on their way to intercept.

He heard Hyena before he saw them, the high cackling of the manic laughter Danny tended to lean into when he was in his Hyena persona, then Jason saw him, he planted his feet on a rooftop just inside crime ally and drew his guns. He saw the moment Danny spotted him and slightly adjusted his flight so he landed on the same roof as Jason, rolling to absorb his momentum and skidded to a stop half hiding behind Jason as he grinned at the Bats who had also come to a stop on the roof across from them with the muzzles of Jason's guns trained on them.

"Sorry about this, I knew what I was doing but I don't know the placement of the cameras all over Gotham, I didn't know they saw me," Danny said, resting his hands on Jason's shoulders.

"What did you do Hyena?" Jason asked without looking away from Batman and Robin.

Danny cackled again, the Hyena laugh that made him shiver just a little. He ducked out from behind Jason and got halfway between the two groups in the stand off. He pulled the bag Jason hadn't noticed off his shoulder and reached inside. Jason could tell Danny was smiling at him from behind the muzzle as he grabbed something and pulled out... The joker's head, Jason's breathing caught in his throat.

"Happy death day baby," Danny said fondly, his voice loud enough that Batman and Robin would be able to hear as well. "Someone cares about you enough to avenge you."

It was brutal, and final, it was a decoration of love as surely as anything else and so much better then a dozen roses. Jason thought he would be horrified, fixated on the head, but the Joker was just a lump of flesh now, a horrified expression fixated on his face as if he hadn't actually expected anyone to kill him. Nothing to be scared of anymore.

"Holy shit," Jason laughed and turned to Danny, scooping him up making Danny yelp in surprise and drop the bag, the Jokers head rolling away as Jason twirled a laughing Danny. "I love you so much Cub! This is the best gift anyone's ever gotten me!" He cheered and Danny blushed all the way to his slightly pointed ears, clearly pleased.

It was the first time Jason had said he loved him and Danny felt like he had won the lottery! He couldn't control his purring as Jason put him back down, he snuggled into Jason's side as he aimed his gun and put a bullet in Joker's decapitated head just for the catharsis of it.

"Jaylad," Bruce's voice was soft and betrayed. As if he had any fucking right!

Reminded of his presence Jason's gaze snapped back to Bruce, as did his guns, pointed at Batman and Robin again. "If you're planning to arrest Hyena for this I will not hesitate to shoot. If you take one step inside My territory," Jason snarled at them. "You can take the head if you want, I don't need to keep a lump of rotting flesh, I just needed to know Someone gave a shit." He stepped forward and kicked the head like a football, sending it hurtling at Batman with pretty damn good aim as Danny cackled behind him, high and loud.

Batman caught it, more on instinct then anything, but it was evidence, it was a body, he would take it, and the corpse from wherever Danny had left it. "Now if you'll excuse us, I think we have a celebration to plan!" Jason said before he shot at them, he wasn't aiming to kill, just to make them leave and it worked. They dashed off and Jason turned back towards Danny.

"I love you too," Danny said, soft and warm, pressing himself against Jason's chest. "Now take me home and Fuck me~"

Jason laughed and scooped Danny up into his arms, letting him wrap his arms back around Jason and cling as he set a quick pace towards their nearest safe house.

Part 2.5

Part 3

Masterpost

[midnightstar-90]

A Damsel In Distress

Georgie Cooper x Fem! Reader Taglist | Request | Wattpad Main Masterlist | Other Actors/Characters Masterlist Requested Anonymously: "Hi, i was wondering if you could do Georgie cooper x reader who has an abusive father or smt and he helps her, tries to get her to move in with him to his family house and after his begging for weeks she finally agrees? Thank you if you do." Summary: When Georgie finds you on his porch bleeding and bruised, he finds the need to avenge you. Warnings: Abuse, Slut Shaming, Angst, Protective! Georgie, Not Proofread Words: 2.4K

Georgie Cooper may not be the smartest man alive, but when it came to the people he loved, he was protective of them. So when you showed up at the Cooper residence all beaten up, you were nervous.

About a year ago, your dad lost his job and ended up spending his days and nights drinking his life away. Since then, he'd found a new job, but the drinking never stopped.

As time went by, drinking led to harmless fits of rage to you and your mother hiding away in a room until your father fell asleep. Trying your best to get away from your father, you joined after-school clubs and helped tutor kids.

That's how you met Georgie.

Georgie was failing almost half of his classes, and if he wanted to stay on the football team, he had to get his F's to at least a C. So, he asked around, and everyone he talked to said that besides Sheldon, you were the one to go to. And he did.

Surprisingly enough, you and Georgie got along. The two of you worked hard, and as his grades got to where he needed them, you still kept in touch. You would have lunch with him and his friends, and sometimes join him at the movies. You two even became each other's wingman, with him giving you advice on boys and you vice versa.

All was good until the day you allowed Georgie to walk you home. Being the gentleman he was, Georgie walked you home every day, but the home he was walking you to was actually a few blocks down from your own. You told him that was your house because you didn't want to risk your father finding out that you were friends with a guy.

But today was different. You and Georgie had just left the movies and you both couldn't stop talking about it on your journey home.

"Did you see that alien?" Georgie laughed.

"Yes, oh my goodness. When it first came onto the screen I was so scared," You said, with a soft laugh.

Georgie looked over at you. Still holding the theater popcorn, he popped a handful into his mouth and began making weird creature sounds, which startled you a bit. You jumped and released a scream.

Georgie laughed harder than before and shook his head. "It's so easy," he said, talking about how easy it was to scare you. You teasingly punched him with a long grin before grabbing some popcorn.

Unknowingly, you and Georgie had passed up the house you had told him was your house and were quickly making your way to your actual home.

When you arrived at your house, your smile was gone as you quickly realized your mistake.

"Oh, dang it!" Georgie said, flinging his arms in the air in disappointment. "We passed your house."

You worriedly looked at the door to your house, ignoring the boy next to you. "You should go," you told Georgie as you noticed the living room curtains abruptly shut.

"What?" Georgie asked, confused.

Georgie looked over at you to see that the playful smile that you once wore was replaced with a sunken frown and a look of fear in your eyes. He followed your line of sight to see your home.

"Y/N, this isn't your home. I'm not leaving you to walk the streets alone at night."

Your lip quivered as you continued to stare at the window. "Georgie, go home," you muttered, but Georgie just shook his head.

"Y/N, what's going on. This-"

"This is my home, Georgie! Now please... leave."

Your fear overwhelmed you as you watched a dark figure walk past the window. Georgie looked back at you confused. He knew you wouldn't move until he left, so even though he didn't want to, he did as he was told and left.

He turned and left, only looking back when he got to the end of the street. He looked back and watched as you entered the dark house. An uneasy feeling washed over Georgie, but he continued home, waiting till tomorrow to ask his questions.

———

Georgie had only been home an hour when he heard the doorbell. He ignored the door and continued reading his magazine. He questioned who would be coming over at 10 o'clock at night. His door was cracked open as he heard his mother answer the door.

"Y/N?" he heard his mother ask, slightly worried, making his head poke up from behind his magazine. Georgie slowly stood from his bed as he wondered why you would be here after he left you at what was actually your home.

Georgie walked into the living room and froze.

You stood at the door with messed up hair, a black eye, and ripped-up clothes. Your eyes met his, and suddenly, he understood why you were so scared, earlier.

"Y/N?" Georgie called out your name as he walked over to you. You were shaking, which Mary had quickly noticed.

"Here... let's get you out of the cold and inside." Mary softly grabbed your arm and moved you into their home before closing the door. She led you to the couch and Georgie followed close behind you.

"George!" Mary called out for her husband.

A few seconds later a slightly annoyed George Cooper exited his room. "What," he said, a bit aggressively, causing Y/N to flinch.

"Oh dear," Mary said after seeing Y/N's reaction. "George, grab the first aid kit. I'm gonna put some soup on."

"Why?" George said, confused, stepping into the living room. His eyes shifted from his wife to the figure on the couch. He moved closer to get a better look at who was on the couch. When he saw it was Y/N, George was in shock. "Y/N? What happened?"

"I would like to know that as well," Georgie said, standing behind his parents with his arms crossed. He kept his gaze strictly on Y/N. Georgie was angry. Not at Y/N, but at whoever did this.

"Yes, I would like to know that as well, but can we at least stitch her up first," Mary said before leaving for the kitchen.

"Oh, right," George agreed, leaving to grab the first aid.

With his parents gone, Georgie took the opportunity to talk to you alone. He slowly stepped forward, joining you on the couch. Georgie opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, you laid your head on his shoulder as you silently cried.

"Who did this to you?" Georgie asked in a soft tone.

On the outside, Georgie was prepared to do whatever to help you feel better, but on the inside, Georgie was angry. He wanted to kill whoever did this to you. You were everything to Georgie. If he could, he'd give you the world.

You closed your eyes and sniffled before answering the boy. "My dad," you whispered. Your cries became louder, making Georgie tense up. Unsure what to do, he placed a loving kiss on your forehead and whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

He did this for a few minutes before George came back with the first aid kit and a wet cloth.

"Okay. It took me a second, but I finally found it," George said, kneeling down in front of you. "Mind telling us what happened?" George asked, as he grabbed her arm and started wiping off the blood.

You hesitated. Just thinking about what happened brought you into a spiral. But Georgie quickly calmed you down by calmly running his fingers through your hair, trying to fix what your dad messed up.

"My dad is an alcoholic," you started. "He has been for a year. And it wasn't until recently that he started getting... physical."

"Your dad did this?" George asked. You nodded, and George went back to cleaning you up.

Mary soon came into the room with a bowl of soup. "Here you go, darling?" She placed the bowl on the side table and stood next to her kneeling husband.

"Thank you, Mrs. Cooper," you gave her a small smile, before continuing. "Anyways, I started joining after-school activities to get away from all the chaos. That's how I met Georgie."

"Wait. So this has been going on since before you met Georgie," Mary asked with a frown. You nodded.

"I didn't want Georgie to get hurt. So, when he asked if he could walk me home, I told him a fake address, so my father wouldn't see him. But today, the night got ahead of us and we passed the house we were supposed to stop at."

Georgie was livid. You were so scared of your father that you lied to protect him. No one should have to avoid their own home.

"We stopped in front of my house, and my father saw."

You paused and suddenly, more tears started flooding your eyes. You tried to speak, but your throat felt tight. Georgie rubbed your back and calmly waited. It took you a minute, but you were finally able to talk again.

"I made sure Georgie left before going into the house, where I knew he was waiting for me. My dad can be unpredictable when he drinks and I didn't want him to attack Georgie."

You wiped your eyes as you kept your gaze down toward your lap.

"When I entered he was just sitting there in the dark... Waiting. When he started talking to me, I knew by his soft voice that I would be in trouble, so I did exactly as he said and answered all his questions truthfully."

You paused, taking a deep breath.

"He grabbed me by the throat and called me a "slut". But it didn't stop there..."

"Oh, lord," Mary muttered to herself.

"When he finally let go of me, he punched me so hard that I fell to the ground. Then he climbed on top of me and began to rip up my clothes. He said that if I was going to be a slut, then I needed to look the part. As he tore up my clothes, I could feel his nails ripping into my skin, hence the scratches."

You paused again, sobbing into your hand.

It took everything in Georgie not to go to your house and teach your father a lesson about treating girls, especially daughters, but he kept his composure.

"I tried to scream for help, but no one came. I saw my mom standing in the doorway, but she didn't do anything. She just stood there... watching. When my dad was done, he dragged me out of the house and locked me out. That's when I decided to come here."

"Oh, you poor thing," Mary frowned with a hand over her chest. She moved toward you and pulled you out of Georgie's arms and into hers. She held you tight as you sobbed loudly against her shirt.

"It's really terrible that you had to go through all that. You don't deserve that. No one does," George said, throwing in his two cents.

Georgie stood from his spot on the couch. "I wanna kill him!" Georgie said, making his way to the door, but he was quickly stopped by his father's grip on his arm. "We're not killing anybody," George said, but that didn't stop Georgie from wanting to go over to your house and beat the living daylights out of your father.

"I think it's been a long night for all of us, so we should all get some sleep. I'm gonna grab some blankets. Georgie, you want to help get the couch ready?" Mary asked, giving you a smile.

"Actually, can I sleep with Georgie? I don't feel comfortable being alone."

Mary was unsure if letting you sleep with Georgie was the right move. She looked over at George, who just shrugged, and then back at you. You looked so sad, and Mary just couldn't say no to someone who's been through all that.

She nodded and sent you another sad smile, which you thankfully returned. "Georgie, take Y/N to your room, and i'll be in their soon with some spare pajamas and blankets. I want to talk to your dad about something."

Georgie's eyes widened, "You aren't seriously thinking about sending her back there, are you?"

Mary was taken aback by her son's outburst. "No," she shook her head. "No, I would never say that. Just go help Y/N so your father and I can talk alone."

Georgie let out a huff, not in the mood to go back and forth with his mother. "Come on, Y/N," He beckoned you to follow him, and you did just that without any hesitation.

———

You entered Georgie's room and made a quick B-line to his bed. You carefully removed your shoes and lay down. It was safe to say that after the night you had, you were exhausted.

"I know it's a mess, but I wasn't exactly expecting company," Georgie said from across the room. He picked up some of his clothes from off the floor and threw them into an empty hamper. When he was done, he turned to see you knocked out on his bed.

Someone knocked at Georgie's door, making him flinch before turning to see who it was. Mary stood at the door, still wearing that same smile from earlier as she held onto a folded blanket and nightgown.

"I just came to drop these off," Mary spoke in a slightly hushed tone.

"I think you're a bit late for that," Georgie responded, pointing back at you as you slept soundly in his bed.

Mary nodded. "Okay, then I will just leave these right here," she placed the folded blanket and piece of clothing on the corner of the bed next to the bed.

"Thanks, Mom," Georgie smiled, making Mary's smile grow wider.

"No problem, honey," she said before making her way out of the room.

With his mom gone and you sleep, Georgie quickly got ready for bed and joined you. He lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

"I swear. Next time someone even thinks about hurting you, I won't hesitate to kill 'em." Georgie knew no one was listening, but he still continued express his feelings toward you.

"I love you," he said to you, leaning over to place a kiss on your forehead before turning off the lights and falling asleep.

If your User is in orange, I could not find you. Please feel free to contact me if you’d like to be re-added. Taglist:@buckysmainhxe , @esposadomd , @natalia12700, @siriusstwelveyears , @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @countrymusiclover , @bellarkeselection , @alexxavicry , @xivilivix, @idontknowwhat2type , @ietss

[gothamhappiness]

Being in a relationship with Bruce Wayne: a journey - Too in love to stay apart (Part IX)

It's a big series about an afab!reader who doesn't like Bruce Wayne and who still falls in love with him (he fells quicker and harder)

Reader's origin story // Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8

Warnings: no proof reading, very hard times for reader, abusive mother, depressed!Bruce, angst/comfort

You had stayed away from Gotham a lot longer than you originally thought.

You kept in touch with the kids who had created a group chat without Bruce, even though it felt off to all of them. Alfred was often sending you messages as well, half because Bruce was asking news from you and half because Alfred missed you. Your friends in Gotham were worrying about you. It was obvious you weren’t doing very well lately.

Breaking up with Bruce has been very hard for you. You were deeply in love with him. You would have loved to be able to speak with him about everything wrong right now. You needed him but it was over now. The situation with your family was difficult, as usual. You had forgotten what it was to be yelled at by your mother when she wasn’t ignoring you. You were tired, unloved, a little bit lost too. 

You just wanted to be back a few months ago, when things were doing well. You needed to be strong and to keep your head high. It was going to be alright, at least the children were still in your life. And it was truly helping you, even though it meant you couldn’t stop thinking about Bruce. 

Bruce was actually losing his mind. Each day, each night, he was feeling himself going down. He had never thought he would feel so bad again. He should have been smarter: if your presence was a new strength for him and his family, your absence was obviously a weakness and a very sensitive subject.

It had been one whole month that you weren’t together anymore. It had been one whole month, and he was struggling more and more to sleep and to eat. He was busing himself with work, all kinds of work, to not have to face your absence. Alfred was getting very worried, and the kids were keeping a close eye on their mentor, just to make sure nothing bad happened to him. Bruce wasn’t aware of any of this. He was telling himself over and over again that he could deal. But it was just a lie. And deep down, he knew it. 

More than once he had wondered if maybe he could call you, or at least text you. But he didn’t want to bother you. He didn’t want to make things even worse than they already were. The Batfamily knew about your not so dead father, but for the moment, they decided to not do anything about it. Not without your consent. And clearly, you weren’t in the right state of mind to talk to them about it. Bruce didn’t want to work on a case that would keep reminding him of you anyway. The point of plunging into work was to forget about you. Not the opposite. 

Of course, he had kept tabs on you, but it was just to make sure you were alright, nothing else. But it was another lie. And he knew it.

Bruce had been so exhausted that night, that Alfred convinced him to go to bed. His body was covered in bruises and wounds. He clearly needed to get some rest. Bruce had no idea how many hours he had stayed awake this time. Alfred and the children preferred to not count anymore. Bruce was a mess. Batman was more ruthless and violent than usual. Everyone was on edge.

But for once, Bruce actually managed to fall asleep. Usually, his mind was drifting back to you and thus he couldn’t rest. His body gave up and it was a dreamless sleep for once, no nightmare, just darkness. 

But as he turned around, he looked for you in his sleep. His arm just wanted to bring you close to his body; a gesture he did countless times. A gesture that always brought him comfort and peace. Everything was alright as long as you were by his side. 

He woke up in panic as he didn’t find your body next to his, before remembering you weren’t supposed to come back home anymore. He felt sick, so sick at the idea of not having you in his arms anymore. He couldn’t breathe. He regretted all the early mornings you tried to keep him in bed with you and he only gave you five more minutes of cuddles. He wished he had given in, each time. He had taken your presence and affection for granted. 

And now you were gone. 

Forever gone if he didn’t fix the situation.

He took his phone, and without thinking he typed a message away and sent it to you: 

“Your absence is unbearable.”

You weren’t sleeping, you were turning around in your bed, unable to find a good position to rest. There was too much in your mind. You just wanted to call Bruce. But you couldn’t. You needed to stop crying too. You took a deep breath, trying to calm down. Now you couldn’t sleep at all. You were too upset.

You grabbed your phone and decided to scroll on social medias, until it would tire your eyes enough for you to hope to sleep. You were bored and you couldn’t really focus on the screen in front of you. Until something happened. You were surprised when you saw a notification from Bruce. You were probably dreaming, you thought. You clicked on it. You were even more surprised when you read those words. You read them over and over again. You couldn’t believe your own two eyes.

You didn't know what to say, what to reply at first. Was he really missing you? Like you were missing him?

“Not sleeping or working?” you replied, you just wanted to know why he was suddenly messaging you “You probably have better things to do than messaging me right now” you added.

“Can’t sleep without you” Bruce replied right away; he was too tired to even think anymore.

He was just so relieved to be in contact with you again. He felt like a wave of relief crashing over him already. “Why aren’t you sleeping either?” he added, always worried about you

“I don’t know if you noticed but things suck lately” you replied

“I know”

“I’m surprised you stayed away from my father’s adventures. Or you are just keeping things low enough for me to not notice you?” you asked

“Didn’t want to do anything that might upset you even more” Bruce said “But I’d do anything for you”

You scoffed at such words

“Oh yeah? Didn’t notice”

“Come back home, and I’ll show you” he promised

“I thought we weren’t meant to stay together.” you replied

“I never said that” Bruce tensed up

“You never said the opposite either” you were ready to put your phone away, the conversation was making you feel sick

“I love you.” Bruce instantly replied

And you instantly called Bruce who answered just as fast. You stayed quiet for a little while, the both of you. You didn’t even know why you called him.

“Talk to me” he finally whispered

“You’re the one who hasn’t been talking to me. I needed you to tell me you loved me a month ago. I needed you to reassure me we were fine.” you argued back

“I… I didn’t realise it. I’m sorry.” Bruce hummed, his throat tighten

“Why tell me all this now?”

“Because I can’t live without you. You are my sun, my hope and happiness.”

You stayed silent after those words, you felt your mind calming down for an instant.

“I really need you too” you admitted

“I know things are complicated with your father… We’ll deal together when you’ll be back in Gotham.” he promised

“I should come back to Gotham at the end of the week. Come get me at the station” you asked

“Of course, I’ll be there”

“And yes for a date” you heard Bruce smile

“Anything you want, my love”

--

PART 10

--

Taglist for all my work <3

@blublock404

@wind-canoe

@silverklaus

@couldeatthatgirlforlunch

@tatsuri-zomushiki

@navs-bhat

Taglist for Bruce Wayne <3

@alishii

Taglist for this series <3

@Esposadomd

@moraxussy

@resident-cryptid

@legendarypiratecheesecake

@randomnamedmira

@elleclairez

@mindless-rock

@lumiqou

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@c3liaaaaa@nickey-diano

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet Cute - Law's Story - 9

Source for pic

The Great Pretender 9

Word Count: 4512

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Law is a soft dom; you have bratty tendencies (not all the time); voice kink; praise kink; cursing; very suggestive behaviour and innuendo from the start; sexual tension; teasing; so much flirting; romance; slow-burn; fluff; slight angst; mature audiences (though explicit NSFW moments will be properly tagged on the chapter); possessive Law; protective Law; soft Law; teasing Law; manipulative Doflamingo; inappropriate Doflamingo; fake relationship trope; only one-bed trope; reader has some anxiety issues; reader is a control freak and perfectionist; modern day AU; Mention of ex mentally abusive relationship;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Law (your father's doctor) start to build a flirty friendship because of your father’s procedure. So much so that when he’s invited to Baby 5’s wedding (his cousin), he asks you to be his date. His uncle Doflamingo - who is filthy rich - is very adamant on finding a suitable wife for him. Seeing as he wants to avoid that, he asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for the weekend.

Masterlist |Chapter 8| | |Chapter 10🔞|

Your soft, steady breaths are like music to Law’s ears. After shedding all the tears you had in you for that bastard, you were so tired that you immediately fell asleep, curled up against his chest.

Where you belong.

Law closes his eyes tightly, trying to gather his thoughts. This was all supposed to be fake and he couldn’t hold his feelings together for one freaking weekend. He knew it was dangerous when he asked you to do this, he knew that sometimes boundaries blur and bend and things that weren't supposed to happen, happen. Like it obviously did.

He had been so rattled by his uncle - he should have foreseen that he was going to use Monet, it was so obvious! - so insecure about your feelings, and about himself, about how he was believing every word out of Doffy’s mouth and distrusting you. Knowing you were there for him but not knowing for sure if you would leave him for more. Just like Monet had. 

He let himself lose control, and his feelings for you stirred violently like a storm. You are so much more than just a ruse for him. You are special. You make him feel things he long forgot how to feel, to see life in colour again, instead of just black and white. You make him plan for a far-off future and want to be more. More than just a doctor, more than part of the Donquixote family. More.

And he almost threw that away just to hear you say that you belong to him…

“I’m yours, all yours Law.”

You’d said it. Without the signal. The words had come out of your mouth and they rang so sweet in his ears. He’d been thinking about it, even before he asked you to be his fake girlfriend. Of how it would feel to have you by his side, to call you truly his. But he’d soon forgotten that fleeting dream. He didn’t have girlfriends. He wasn’t built for relationships, that dream had been shattered a long time ago. 

Yet, now, watching you sleep peacefully in his arms, feeling the pang of hurt and the slow spread of the embers of anger, after hearing you speak about the relationship you had with your ex, realisation hits him like a blow to the nose.

He really wants this - you!

Everything you have to offer him: every smile, every taunt, every giggle and glint in your eyes. But he also wants your broken pieces, your sadness, your sorrow, your guilt and your shame. 

He’s a genius. He can help put you back together, support you on your path until you become stronger and sturdier. By his side. 

A soft whine and a hiccup escape your lips as you take a deep breath, your body still tired and reacting to all the tears you’ve shed, and Law pulls you closer to him. 

He can’t help but notice how well you fit into his arms, as if you were moulded just for him.

Moulded. Fuck.

This is what’s keeping him awake, ultimately. It’s not just you in his arms. It’s the fact that you spent four years of your life in a fucked-up relationship with an asshole who didn’t appreciate you. Worse than that, he made you feel small, unimportant and disposable.

Law feels like punching something.

He uses surgery hours as an outlet for his frustration and anger. There is something about the steady tick-tock of the clock, the light beeping and buzzing of the machines, the ventilator breathing air into a patient's lungs and his steady hands making precise surgical cuts. Something that climbs the borders of saving lives and transcends him.

It's a way to control his own life, to bring steadiness and calm into an otherwise chaotic mind. Because as cool and collected Law always appears, inside there's a raging beast waiting to be unleashed. 

And the sight of your tears, your vulnerability, your broken - shattered - mind makes the beast roar and rattle its cage, demanding to be let out, clamouring for blood. 

Law shuts his eyes even tighter, smothering away the remnants of fury forcing their way out of his system. He places his nose near your head and inhales your shampoo, a scent so characteristically yours that does more to cage the beast inside than ten straight hours of surgery ever could. 

He realises you didn't tell him the name of your ex. Law can very well add two and two together, so it's quite clear that he knows, or that you think he might know who your ex is. You've let slip some details: his father is a powerful man and owns a big company, though you didn't tell him what kind of business the company is in. You said he frequented a lot of events, so he's from an influential family or, at least, has a lot of money. He's from Grand Line City, though that fact is basically useless since it's an overly populated, bustling city. 

This doesn't narrow it down much. Assholes with a lot of money are a dime a dozen. He doesn't even have to go too far, Doflamingo is just in the other wing of the mansion. 

With a sigh that screams finality and closure, Law lets it go. If you didn't mention it, it’s because he doesn't need to know, or you don't want him to. Both perfectly valid reasons. He also didn't want you to know about Monet. What a fucking mess. Now you know and your purpose didn't waver one bit.

As sleep finally claims him, the last thought on Law's mind is that his trust in you wavered, but it's now built up so high that he's willing to bet everything he owns on how you won't disappoint him. Not even if Doflamingo brings his big guns. 

Whatever they may be. 

-*-

You don’t dislike mornings. They might not be your favourite thing in the world, but they aren’t the worst. Sometimes you like to spend a few extra minutes in bed, lazing around because there is nowhere softer than your bed. 

Except today you aren’t in your own bed. 

Yet, you have never felt safer or more content than at this exact moment. Even without opening your eyes, your brain clicks into place and you know why. Law. You remember him holding you, though you don’t really remember falling asleep. 

With a contented sigh, you open your eyes and see a pair of soft amber orbs gazing at you. He seems so bare without his stern gaze, it’s a sort of vulnerability - you notice - but not like the unhinged one he showed you last night. This vulnerability doesn’t stem from pain or sorrow… it’s… affection?

“Morning.” He whispers and you smile.

You don’t remember being this entangled with him when you fell asleep. You only had your head on his chest now, it would appear that sometime during the night, you shifted and draped your leg over his, arms hugging his torso tightly.

You should let go.

There’s an annoying voice in your head telling you this is wildly inappropriate, that it’s crossing some kind of unspoken barrier, yet he doesn’t seem uncomfortable with the proximity and you’re experiencing bliss. So you don’t move. Not yet, at least.

“Morning.” You say back to him. Your voice is still throaty and scratchy and, for a moment, you can’t remember why it’s like this, until images of Ichiji flash through your mind, erasing your smile and darkening your gaze.

Law shifts slightly and you think you’re overstaying your welcome so you start to move. Instead, he pulls you tighter, his hand tipping your chin to keep you looking at him. “It’s all in the past, okay?” His fingers climb and graze your ear, where your earring would be if you were wearing one. The signal. “You’re with me now. I’m the only one allowed in your mind, sweetheart, understand?”

He uses that velvety voice, laced with a hint of authority and you clench your thighs instinctively. He might’ve said that for the purposes of your fake relationship, but he’s right. Ichiji is past and he has no more right to claim space in your mind. 

“Use your words, you know I like to hear you speak.” The drawl in his voice is more pronounced in the morning, you notice, raspier, sexier. Just another fact to add to the never-ending list of things you now know about Trafalgar Law. What will you do with all that information when you inevitably part ways?

You take a deep breath, blush and look to his chest before opening your mouth, but the words remain frozen in your throat when his whisper tickles your forehead. “Eyes on me, sweetheart.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck! It’s too soon for these games! And you're pressed so close to him that you’re sure he can feel the way your nipples hardened at his gentle command. Yet you’re compelled to do as he says so you look up, lips parted, small, panted breaths escaping them and flushed cheeks. There’s a hint of something in his gaze, something darker than lust, bordering on obsession, but you dismiss it quickly.

“I understand, Law.” You reach and use the signal in his ear, just a faint touch, but he doesn’t stop your hand, so you let it fall down and trace the curve of his perfect jawline, then your ghost of a touch moves to his neck and collarbone. You see his throat bob up and down and the fact that you might be affecting him exhilarates you, so you press on. Your fingers trace down his T-shirt and follow the shape of his pecs, lingering on the nipple and he hums low, not quite a warning, he must be enjoying your touch. “I will only be thinking about you…” Your eyes drop to the way his chest heaves slightly and you catch your lower lip with your teeth to contain a satisfied sound.

The hand he has on your back climbs up and he entangles his fingers in your hair, gripping them and tilting your head gently so you can return your gaze back into his eyes. You let out a gasp, they’re dark with desire. “And what will you be thinking about, exactly? What will I be doing in that pretty little head of yours?”

Your leg is still entangled with his and you have to fight your desire to shift and straddle him, but your fingers keep going lower. They trace his abs now and they’re as firm as a wall. Your head starts to fill with deep fantasies about what Law could be doing to you in your head, but they’re all so real and consuming, and you’re both in such an already vulnerable position, that you know any spark can ignite this flame between you, so you swallow hard and sigh. 

“Kissing. You’re kissing me.” That should be safe enough, right?

Wrong.

Law grabs your hand just as you - unconsciously - hook a finger on the waistband of his pants. Boundaries, boundaries! Stupid decision! Yet he doesn’t say anything, he simply rolls you over, his knee slotted between your legs, just as you were before, and he raises both your hands above your head. His eyes devour your surprised expression as a lone gasp leaves your lips. 

“You know what to do to get me to kiss you, don’t you, sweetheart?”

Beg.

“Please, Law…” You don’t even try to fight it. He’s watching you with hungry eyes, hair unkempt into perfection, a sleepy, dreamy look on his features and you need him to kiss you.

“Please what?” He leans in, his lips brushing softly against yours, and your hands twitch instinctively, but he’s holding them in place. His other hand presses slightly against your neck, feeling your pulse racing under his thumb.

“Kiss me! Please kiss me, Law, pl-mmmph.” He swallows your pleas as his lips crash against yours.

You can feel him pressed against your thigh, and the thought makes you moan softly into his kiss. He uses that opening to take your tongue in his and deepen the kiss. It’s desperate, it’s lustful, it’s-...

Knock, knock, knock.

Over.

Law grunts and rolls off you, recovering his voice way faster than you ever could. “Who is it?” However, you can detect a hint of impatience and annoyance. 

“It’s me!” Cora answers and Law sighs. He gets up, slightly adjusts his pants, and, checking back to see if you’re covered, opens the door with a scowl. “Morning, Law! I’m so sorry to bother you two so early, I really am!” He does sound sorry. “Baby 5 wanted to let everyone know that she moved the brunch one hour earlier because she has games planned for after and she doesn’t want anyone to be late. Especially you two.” He lowers his voice. “She loved your girlfriend, Law! We all did.”

You blush and smile to yourself. You must be doing something right, then. Law’s family liked you. Well… maybe not Doflamingo yet, but you don’t need him to like you, you just need him to leave Law alone. 

When Law speaks, his voice is warmer. “Sure thing, Cora. We’ll get ready soon. Thank you for letting us know.”

“Anytime! Ouch!” You hear the sound of glass tinkering and something crashing before Law sighs and Cora says ‘I’m okay! It was just a vase!’ 

When Law closes the door, you’re already up and heading towards the bathroom. “I’ll be ready soon.” You state before closing the door. 

Slumping your body forward, you grasp the porcelain of the sink, taking rapid, shallow breaths. What is going on? You two keep using the signal and saying things like ‘If this were real…’ yet, you’re thinning the borders of the boundaries, mixing emotions and lust and sorrow from your past. You should stop.

For both your sakes, you should stop.

Perhaps you should not touch each other outside the pretence in front of Law’s family. Because he kisses you with such ferocity that it’s as if you’re his. Like you belong to him, though you’re just friends. But are you really just friends?

This tension and attraction keep building and expanding and there’s only so much space to take before it explodes, consuming you both. 

And by all that is sacred, how you wish to be consumed by Trafalgar Law. You want to give everything of yourself to him, to drown in his golden gaze, to be lost inside his kiss, to feel all of him within you. 

Could it be so wrong, if you gave in to your desires? You’re sure he wants you too… It's mutual. But… would it be too complicated, emotionally?

You sigh and start to work on your morning routine. You’ll just have to get through this weekend without entangling yourself further. Once you’re both out of this stifling, constricting environment, you’ll deal with whatever it is you share.

Or might share.

-*-

As with dinner last night, brunch and the afternoon games require a semi-casual fit and you select another cocktail dress. The rehearsal dinner is formal, though, so you and Law will have to change before dinner time. 

“You look stunning.” Is his usual compliment, one you should already be accustomed to but, as you become more aware of the growth of your feelings for this man, the more flustered you get. “You don’t have to worry, I won’t let Doffy mess with your head today.” Law seems much more composed this morning. Maybe after the initial shock of interacting with his uncle again - and now that Doffy doesn’t have the same ammunition as he did yesterday - Law won’t let himself be rattled by his provocations so easily. 

“Maybe I should say the same?” You smile and he grunts back an agreement. “So, brunch and games? What kind of games?”

Law sighs as you both exit your room, his hand holding yours, just as he did yesterday. Yet, today, you can’t help a tingle of electricity from climbing up your arm at his touch. ‘Tell me you’re mine.’ You have to shake your head to get rid of your thoughts. You’ll never be able to forget those words. 

Just four words alone can undo you. 

“Who knows what games… Baby 5 is all about internet trends and Pinterest aesthetics. I’m sure it’s something boring, dumb and flashy.” You giggle at his silliness as you both descend the steps. Baby 5 told you yesterday that more guests would be spending the day at the mansion as part of the wedding festivities, so you’re already expecting more people, about a dozen more or so, as is usual in rehearsal dinners. But as soon as you step outside to the garden, you gasp. There have to be about fifty more people than yesterday. It already feels like a small wedding. 

Does Law know all of these people? 

Pressure starts to build in your temples as you think about all the people you are now required to fool. What if you can't do it? What if someone knows Law from childhood and asks you a question you don't know how to answer? Can one question alone crumble this facade?

Biting your lower lip and squeezing Law's hand tighter, you start to mumble about Law's education growing up, and private tutors, as well as all the extracurricular activities he took in high school. Will it come up? Probably not, but it's better to be prepared and-... 

“Relax.” Law's soothing voice against your ear makes you whimper and shiver. He startled you since you were so deep in thought, but your reaction wasn't about the jump scare. It was the tingling that's still warming your skin, the electricity that shook you to your core. How are you going to survive two and a half more days of this tension? 

You take a deep, steadying breath as Law squeezes your hand back. “You've got this, sweetheart.”

“We’ve got this.” You correct him and he chuckles. 

As you delve deeper into the party, you get a good look around. The garden is huge and luscious, with abundant greenery and beautiful flowers. The white and golden tents where the rehearsal dinner and the eventual wedding will be held tomorrow, cast an ethereal feeling over the scene, a sort of fairytale-like feeling. Brunch is being served outside the tents, on a small patio. There are rows of tables with every food imaginable and your stomach rumbles just by looking at it. 

“Hungry?” Law asks with a chuckle. 

“Yeah.” You whisper. “It's been an eventful night. I could eat!” Crying makes people hungry, apparently. 

You and Law make your way to the buffet and fix yourselves a plate, all the while Law keeps introducing you to people: family friends, investors, business partners… He knows everybody. It's overwhelming. The way he handles these people makes you wonder why he doesn't want to follow in Doflamingo’s footsteps. He'd be wonderful at it, he's a natural, though you notice he seems a bit stiffer than his usual self. As a doctor, he’s so much more at ease and it dawns on you that it’s most likely because he loves what he does. 

Law's speaking with an important investor a few feet away from you, and you find yourself staring at him, a strawberry dangling over your lips as you take him in: tanned skin, golden eyes, sharp features and beautiful dark hair. Fuck. He's perfect. You bite the strawberry and suck, your eyes darting to his lips and thinking about the smouldering soul-shattering kisses you shared yesterday and this morning. 

“Oh, to be a strawberry, right now.” You swallow hard and stifle a cough, having been brought out of your fantasy world by a whisper near your ear. A cold, shiver-inducing whisper. 

“Doflamingo, sir!” You gasp, trying to regain your composure and shake away the cold chills that linger on your skin. 

“What was that pretty head of yours thinking about so seriously, princesa?” He hums low, his figure hunkering down over you, making you feel small and trapped. But you are intent on not letting him get to you. 

Squaring your shoulders you train your smile back onto your lips. “I was just observing your nephew, sir. It's like he's in his element speaking with investors. He has a lot of business savvy.” Your smile softens as Law locks eyes with you, his gaze hardening as he sees Doffy next to you. 

Doffy's chuckle is cold and calculated. “Cariño, I know he's perfect for the job. He just never wanted it. Maybe you can convince him?” Your head whips to the side as your eyes bore into his. You can see the red glinting behind his sunglasses and it's like it's piercing straight into your soul. 

“I would never.” You relish in the way Doffy's smile falters. He was probably waiting for you to cater to his needs, trying to please him. “Law is a gifted surgeon, a wonderful doctor and very passionate about his job. He might be good with business matters, as he's good with everything he sets his mind to, but it's not his calling.”

Law approaches and catches the ending of your speech. His hand slithers and takes hold of your waist pulling you against him. The way he smiles at you warms your heart and you lose yourself in his gaze once more. 

You are so doomed. You're in way too deep. Going back to being friends after this is going to destroy you. 

“You're right, sweetheart, as I've told my uncle repeatedly.” Law's smile as he rests his eyes on his uncle is as surgical as his operations. To his credit, Doffy's is as intimidating as the man himself. Somehow you have the perception that you're standing in the midst of a battle from a war that started long ago. And you feel very out of place. 

“Ah, indeed nephew, you have. But we shall discuss that matter further some other time.” He places his hand near his heart again as his gaze pins you down and you shiver in Law's arms. “Princesa, you're welcome to join me at my table.” He picks up a bowl of strawberries and raises his eyebrow with a lustful smirk. 

Your face flushes so hard that you fear you might combust on the spot. All you trust yourself to do is shake your head, but Law's hand is already pulling you away. “Thank you Doffy. We politely decline.”

-*-

“There's so many people here today…” You murmur as Law pulls you by the waist, a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. “And they keep staring. People don't really expect to see you with a girl, Law!”

Law grunts and keeps pulling you until he finds a small empty table where you both sit with your food plates. 

“That's not it, sweetheart.” His voice seems strained. 

“What's not it?” You flush under the scrutiny of some investors you saw Law speak with earlier and fidget with your hair. Is there something wrong?

“They're not looking because they don't expect to see me with a girl nor because there's something amiss with your appearance.” He brushes your hand aside, releasing the hair you managed to trap back in your hairdo to how it was. “It's because you're breathtaking.” He sounds annoyed as he says it, and yet you still blush deeper. 

“Shut up, Law.” You sound like a petulant child. But a flattered one. “You're wrong.”

“Sweetheart, I'm never wrong. And these people should learn that staring at what's mine comes with a cost.” He growls as his eyes squint and you can't help a flutter from twisting your stomach. There's that word again: mine. You should feel angry at him for being this possessive, instead, it makes you feel safe and protected. Like he can keep all that can harm you away from you. 

“I'm yours, Law?” You can't help the words from fleeing from your mouth. 

‘I'm yours, Law, all yours.’ You'd said the words. 

The corner of his lips curls as his piercing eyes pin you to the spot. “You are for the weekend.”

Push, keep pushing so you can lose control. 

“How about after?”

His throat bobs up and down and he takes a long gulp of his coffee. “We’re supposed to go our own way. Go back to being friends.” The strain in his voice is nothing compared to the clenching in your chest. 

Push some more. Push. Even if your heart is clenching, your mind keeps telling you to go on. 

“So you won't mind if I date another man?” Law's coffee cup almost shatters with the force he bangs it against the table. Your lips part to let out an amused gasp as the flutter in your belly increases tenfold. 

To his credit, after a dark shadow passes across his eyes, Law quickly regains his composure. “Let's talk about that after this weekend, shall we?” The slight sharpness of the usual velvet of his voice doesn't go unnoticed by you. 

Can you push a little more until he gives you what you want? 

But what do you want, really? To see how far you can push him until he makes his claim? Until he pins you somewhere and claims your lips with his? It's embarrassing how much you want to get lost in him again, how easily you'll fold if he so much as looks at you a certain way. 

This hold he has on you is scary. And so exciting. “Why not now, Law? I could start networking…” You glance at the guests with a glint in your eye, successfully bothering Law so much that he starts fidgeting with the buttons of his shirt. “So many choices.”

You are still finishing your sentence when Law hooks his hand beneath your chair and drags it all the way next to his with a very loud screech. He only stops when his face is inches from yours. “Say that again, sweetheart. Say it while looking right into my eyes.” He sounds a little bit unhinged, maybe you’ve pushed far enough. 

Or have you? 

You touch his earring lightly while a smirk graces your lips. “I'm just stating the obvious, there are so many single-...” You don't finish your sentence because his hand tangles in your hair, pulling you and capturing your lips with his and it isn't in the innocent way he pecks you when in public. It's in the very fiery, soul-shattering way you’re already growing addicted to. 

“Law…” You whisper when he finally lets go, after Baby 5 and some of the younger guests start to cheer you on, your ears as red as a tomato. 

“Gotta let them know you're taken, sweetheart, they keep staring.” Your lower lip is still tingling and burning from the contact as he smirks at you. 

Then he continues to eat the food on his plate as if he hasn't just rocked your world in front of all the guests. 

And he didn't use the signal. 

-*-

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @jqperi @rainbow2312 @ren-ni

|Chapter 10🔞|

[moonlightazriel]

When no one hears your calls /// Eris X F!Reader

Summary: When the unbearable feelings of her mate start to mess with her life, Y/N decides to put an ending to their misery.

Warnings: Torture and abuse, Beron being the bastard he is.

Word Count: 3K

Notes: Yeah, i missed writing for my baby Eris. And I'm warning in advance that reader is Azriel's sister and he's mated to Gwyn in this, so please, if you don't stan Gwynriel, scroll past it.

Main Masterlist

She weeped, the feelings flooding her chest too overwhelming to keep controlled. It started with small waves of anxiety, increasing to pure agony, pain erupted through her chest. She tried to keep the tears from spilling, but now she sobbed, broken pleas for it to stop leaving from her parted chapped lips. 

“Tell me what’s wrong, let me make it stop.” Azriel begged his sister. Holding her broken frame in between his arms.

“It hurts so much Az, it’s not fair.” She managed to speak in between the sobs that got more hysterical. The shadowsinger just held her tighter, seeing her in such distress broke him, she has always been his greatest weakness. 

“Here, take this.” Gwyn offered, her warm hands holding a mug towards the female. “It will help you sleep.” Azriel nodded to his mate, taking the mug from his hands and bringing it to his sister’s lips. He forced the content down her throat, watching as the tea slowly worked, her body relaxed and the tears stopped and she fell asleep against him.

“Thank you.” He said, and Gwyn squeezed his shoulder in a reassuring grip. Azriel grabbed Y/N, taking her to the guest bedroom that Gwyn had set for her, placing her sleeping form carefully on the bed. The red headed female grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the living room again.

“I don’t understand.” He breathed. “She has had these episodes since the High Lord’s meeting, it doesn’t make any sense.” 

“Maybe she’s sick?” Gwyn suggested and Azriel shrugged. 

“I took her to Madja, and she’s been as healthy as ever. There’s nothing wrong with her besides that.” He looked towards the room, to the shadows guarding his sister as she finally rested. “I don’t know what to do.”

“We’ll find a solution Az, I know that.” Gwyn smiled at him, and he pulled the female for a hug. 

“I pray to the Mother that you’re right.” She kissed his temple and he closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of her love soothe his heart. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 

Whenever an episode approached, it always had small signs indicating it, the uncomfortable feeling in her chest, the rapid breathing and the dizziness like someone hit her in the head with full strength.

She hated that she worried her family so much, but not every time she was able to control how her body would react to it. It angered her how they would look at her with such pained expressions, how much Azriel wanted to help and she didn’t even knew how to ask for his help. 

So everyday, Gwyn would take her to the library and she would search the cause of her troubles, her nose glued to the pages for hours until her vision was blurry and her head was pounding. She never felt such agony, only when her half brothers and her father ripped her wings from her back, making a small cut and pulling it until the skin gave up and she blacked out due to the blood loss. 

It was Azriel shadows who helped them, sneaking supplies to their cell until they could get rid of the infection that almost killed her and healed his hands. She was glad for them and her brother, they saved her. She always tried to be as less of a burden as possible to not worry Azriel, but now she knew he was distressed about her situation, so she wanted to fix it, for her and for him. 

Shadows gathered in a corner caught her attention, she got up, despite not being able to hear them, they always tended to her and her needs. As she approached the shelf, the shadows disappeared, leaving only a copy of an old dusty book behind. She pulled the book out, blowing the dust off, sneezing a bit in the process. Allergic just like Cassian. 

She plopped herself in her seat again, scanning the book cover, no name, no nothing, this sparked her curiosity. She opened the book, in a fancy handwriter she could read “MATING BONDS: The complete guide for the matters of the heart.” She smiled at the title. 

Just like her brother, she was sometimes too shy to ask about things. Besides having her past lovers, mating bonds are something she was never that curious about. So she sat there, reading the whole thing with attention. If the shadows thought this book would help, she was sure it would. 

“Sometimes, strong feelings can leak through a one sided bond. And the other mate can feel it just as clearly as they would if the bond was shared by both mates.” That passage stuck with her, and she organised the books back on the shelf as she saw Gwyn approaching. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 

“How do we know if the bond snapped or not?” She blurted at the dinner table, the eyes of the inner circle turning to her.

“Well, it’s different for everyone and you would mostly just know.” Rhys said, looking at the female, the three Illyrians treated her like they were her brothers as well. So, the three have been looking for ways to help their little sister to get rid of those episodes. 

“What if the bond had snapped for me and I just didn’t know it was it?” She inquired again and Azriel turned to his sister, his shadows stopping to look at her curiously. 

“Do you think you found your mate?” He asked, eyebrow raised, who she thought she was mated to?

“I found this book that said that feelings can leak through the bond.” The couples nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, it’s very common.” Feyre replied.

“That’s the only explanation for what’s happening to me.” They all stopped for a second. “These emotions are not mine, but they’re strong enough for me to feel it.” Suddenly it all made sense.

“I pity your mate then.” Nesta said with sincerity, whoever it was, was going through great pain for her to feel it so intensely. 

“Me too.” Feyre agreed. “But as for the bond, you can feel like a tug in your soul, like no one else matters to you anymore besides that person.” The High Lady concluded. 

“Do you think you ever felt like this?” Elain asked and the female nodded.

“Yeah, I think I have.” 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 

She couldn’t sleep, her mind filled with too many memories to rest. But one in particular caught her attention, and she closed her eyes, focusing on that memory until she could see it clearly.

“I didn’t know the Night Court had such beauties by their side.” His voice purred, and she turned around to see the well dressed autumn male. He had a smirk adorning his lips, his hair slicked back, leaving a clear view of his face.

“The autumn males aren’t that bad either.” She sheepishly replied, eyes glued to his amber eyes. Eris Vanserra was a dangerous male, as her family had alerted her, but what a beautiful disaster he was. Stealing her breath away and making her lose all of her focus.

“If you ever give me the pleasure of your company, I'll show you how bad we can be.” He winked at her, leaving her standing still in the hallway. It was Nesta who found her, looking at nothing, frozen in place as her chest sparkled with life, like she was taking her first breath of fresh air after getting out of her father’s dungeon. As she was finally free. 

She kicked the covers away from her body, not caring about her clothing as she winnowed away. It was him, he was what was troubling her so much. She just needed to ask him to stop whatever this was and she would go back to normal. The shadows covered her as she sneaked through the Autumn Manor. 

Everything was pitch black, and she just followed the shadows, taking her to the only illuminated room. She pushed the door open, spotting Eris by the bed, looking in a small mirror as he stitched a very ugly wound in his chest. His eye was purple and his lips were bruised. 

“Who did this to you?” She breathed, her hands shaking in anger, how could someone do it to another being? She saw how cruel people could be and she dedicated her time to protecting those who couldn’t protect themselves. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked startled, dropping the mirror from his hands and wincing in pain. Surprised to see her there, and even more curious to know why she was there.

“I came here to talk to you.” She walked closer to her. “Here, let me help you.” Eris raised an eyebrow towards her, what was happening? She picked the needle from his hands, her warm skin brushing against his, it was a nice feeling. He didn’t say anything as her soft touch rested against his heart, while her other hand worked on closing the wound.

She finished the stitches, reaching for the bowl of water, taking the cloth and with one hand she lifted his chin, eyes locked together for a second. She started to work on the dried blood that smeared across his lips and nose. He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch and letting her take care of him. 

“What do you want to talk about that was so important that you invaded my room in the middle of the night?” He watched as she got away from him, sitting in one of the comfortable chairs in the corner of his room. She pulled her legs close to her chest. 

“I wanted you to stop.” He leaned forward.

“Stop what exactly?” She took a deep breath.

“With your overwhelming feelings, it’s been a fucking trouble to me. But you’re clearly going through something, so if you ever need me, don’t hesitate to reach out.” Eris sneered.

“Why would I ever seek your help?” He watched as she got up, her expression serious as she held the doorknob. 

“Because who’s better to help you than your own mate?” And with that she left. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 

Mate. 

Mate.

Mate.

She was his mate. Her words got caught in his mind, she had no reason to lie to him. But he also had no reasons to believe her, he just did. He chose to believe that the female who came to him in the middle of the night and showed him more kindness than his own flesh and blood was telling the truth.

So when another round of torture was over, he winnowed to her house, he had memorized the address she had sent to him. He could barely hold himself together, so he almost collapsed on top of her as she opened the door. She looked like she had been crying as he managed to take a look at her face, and he wondered if it was his emotions that led to that.

“I didn’t know where else to come, and I didn't want to be alone.” She didn’t laugh nor mocked him, she just nodded and left the room. He could hear her, moving around in a hidden room, he wondered if she regretted offering him shelter. 

All the doubts died down in his throat when she came back, leaning to help him stand, guiding the way towards a bathroom. She sat him in her toilet and helped him out of his clothes. He sank in the water, trying to ignore the fact that he had to be naked in front of her, she looked like she was trying her best to ignore it as well.

“I put some numbing herbs, to help with the pain.” He nodded, feeling very thankful for her kindness. “And I have some of Azriel’s clothes here if you don’t mind. Yours are very dirty and could infect your wounds.”

“I would like that, thank you.” She nodded, getting out of the room and only appearing again to drop the clothes. Eris sighed, feeling his body relax and his wounds starting to close. As the water got cold, he got out. He felt weird wearing the Shadowsinger’s clothes but nothing about this situation was usual for him. 

“I figured you’re probably hungry.” She placed a plate in front of him, no one had ever taken that much care of him before. “I didn’t cook it, Feyre told me it's a way of accepting the bond.” She smiled and he could swear that all the pain and sadness was lifted from his chest with that bright smile directed to him. 

“Yeah, we don’t want you accepting this bond by accident.” Why would she want to accept a life tied to him?

“Yeah, we have to get to know each other first.” She giggled, taking a bite of her own food. “You don’t even know my favourite colour!” Eris laughed, feeling the sound reverberate through his chest, how long it was since he truly laughed with someone? 

“Do you plan on accepting?” He asked, testing the waters.

“To be honest, I think about it, but as I said. First we get to know each other, we think about the bond later.” Eris nodded. 

“Does your family know?” He dared to ask, assuming that they didn’t, or else Azriel would have already threatened him. 

“They do!” He looked at her in shock. “They weren’t happy at first, but they respect my choice.” 

“Did you tell them?” He gestured towards himself and her smile faded.

“Your secret is safe with me, it’s not my story to tell.” He swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Thank you, for everything.” She smiled again.

“Nothing to thank me for.” He grabbed her hand, rubbing circles with his thumb.

“I have everything to thank you for, you just don’t know it.” They finished the meal and she got up to do the dishes, he quickly pushed her away. “It’s the least I can do.” She nodded.

“I’ll get the guest room ready for you then.” That night Eris slept like he hadn't slept in ages, soaking in the comfort of her home and her affection. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 

Her fingers started to shake, and that wave of anxiety came, as overwhelming as ever, it has been a whole month that she didn’t feel it, but Eris still came up to her beaten every week, she knew he was holding back his pain for her. But today, it was just as unbearable as it was when he didn’t know about it.

She gritted her teeth, clenching her fists under the table. The dinner went nicely, everyone engaged in conversations and smiling. She couldn’t ruin it, not again. But it was too late, as tears started to stream down her face.

“Are you okay?” Gwyn asked. Concern lacing her delicate features. Y/N shook her head, a scream ripping past her lips and scaring the whole family, Azriel was by her side in a second, tending to her. 

“What’s wrong?” It wasn’t pain that filled her veins tonight, it was anger. The house shook with her power. She screamed in rage, if she didn’t act now, he was going to get killed. She grabbed the truth teller away from her brother.

“This ends tonight.” She announced before she winnowed away. The pain guided her, towards mouldy walls and putrid floors, the smell of blood making the air rancid. 

He groaned, the pointy blade opening his flesh as it was dragged across his skin. He tried to hold back his pain but it was too much tonight, the ash in the weapon making everything more painful. He tried to hang on for her, for the life he wanted to have with her, for everything they haven’t lived yet. But it was too painful to keep going. 

The cell door was forced open, with unruly hair, wet and red cheeks, holding a blade in her hands, his guardian angel came. The blade being pushed into Beron’s neck, blood splattering against her face. She pushed the blade to the side, Beron’s head being detached from his neck, his lifeless body collapsing to the floor. 

“Hey! Open your eyes.” She demanded, kneeling in front of him, cradling his face in between her hands, and in that moment, the bond in his chest sang with life, welcoming her unmistakable love for him. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 

The first thing he saw was the black curtains of her guest room. And the looming presence of the Shadowsinger himself, watching him intently. His body didn’t hurt anymore, all that was left was the warming feeling of the bond alongside his soul. 

“Where is she?” He asked, sitting straight up in bed, his muscles felt tingly from being in the same position for long.

“She’s out in town, getting some things.” Azriel sat in the chair facing the bed. “How are you feeling, Eris?” True concern filled his voice.

“I’m fine, she saved me.” He could never forget this.

“Use this gift she gave you to make her the happiest female alive.” Azriel said, and Eris knew this was the closest of his blessing he would ever get. “Keep her safe.”

“With my life.” The male promised. A door opened somewhere and her soothing voice filled the room.

“I’m home!” She announced, and it took her a few minutes to go to his room, pushing the door open, she watched him. Blinking the tears before rushing to him, jumping on top of him. He held her, and he felt  her lips pressed on his. His heart beated faster, as he retributed her kiss.

“Hey, stop that, that’s gross.” Azriel groaned, and she parted their kiss, laughing to her brother from Eris’s lap.

“You’re no fun.” She complained, showing him his middle finger. He rolled his eyes and left the room. “What do we do now?” She asked, but Eris didn’t want to think about the chaos that awaited for him at home, so he looked her in the eyes, sending all the love he could down the bond and asked.

“What’s your favourite colour?”

[shadowdaddies]

Hellooooo 🫶🫶

I have another request if that's alright :)

Can you do one where Az meets his mate in an Illyrian camp but she's pregnant with another males baby(a male she was basically sold to by her family like a forced marriage) and he finds the guy and beats the ever loving shit out of him and whisks her away to the House of Wind and just worships her? But can you make it like soul crushingly angsty?

Thank you and you don't have to if you have to many reqs rn 🫶🫶

whew this is a long one and tbh it could've been a whole series. It's quite angsty but with a very fluffy ending. It's a different writing style for me so idk how I feel about it but I hope you enjoy it💜

New Hope

Azriel x f!Reader

Warnings: depictions of DV/abuse, some suggestiveness, non-sexual nudity

The first time Azriel saw you was in Emerie’s clothing shop. You had convinced your father to take you to her store for your engagement dress, an agreement he begrudgingly made in exchange for your cooperation in the marriage. 

You were browsing through the fabrics, eyeing a lapis blue silk piece when Azriel entered, the cold air rushing in behind him sending a shiver down your spine. The door closed, yet the breeze continued, whipping around you erratically. Confused, you looked up from the fabrics to see a blushing shadowsinger watching in horror as his shadows swarmed you, dancing and weaving through your hair and clothes. 

The giggle that left your lips at the scene made Azriel’s heart leap in his chest, the male breathless as he was struck by the sight of the most beautiful female he had ever seen. When you turned to face him, the shimmering fabric in your hand reflected the light in your eyes, and time stopped. The world tilted on its axis as a thread in Azriel’s chest snapped, and he understood who he was looking at. His mate.

Just then, your father grabbed your arm, drawing you out of the moment as he tossed the blue fabric to Emerie, declaring that it would be sufficient for the engagement dress. Azriel’s heart sank in his chest. Of course the cauldron would have him meet his mate when she was already engaged to someone else. 

It was then that the shadowsinger made the decision - that as long as you were happy with your husband, he wouldn’t interfere. However, after that day, Azriel found himself inventing every excuse to venture to Windhaven, just to see you and make sure you were okay. 

One day, you approached him in town. He was shocked that you recognized him, both of you unaware of the draw that you felt towards him.

~~~

The marriage was loveless. You knew that your husband didn’t truly care for you from the moment you met, but it was an advantageous arrangement for both families that you be wed. It broke your heart to learn that you would be married for anything other than the love you dreamed of as a little girl, but you clung to hope, and believed that you and your husband might learn to love one another over time.

That never happened. After the wedding, a new side of your husband revealed itself. At first, he shocked you by raising his voice, making callous and cruel comments - but that was nothing new for you as a female in Windhaven. Life was lonely, often times you found yourself crying silently until you fell asleep, terrified as your husband became increasingly aggressive, and sometimes violent. 

It was one day that you poured the milk out of the window at home to give yourself an excuse to head into town for more, when you saw Azriel. You had noticed the shadowsinger around Windhaven far more over the past months, and you were grateful for his presence. Although you didn’t know him, seeing him around gave you a sense of calm that you couldn’t describe - the world was a little less lonely. Unsure of what invisible force was guiding you across the street to where he stood, your feet acted of their own accord as you found yourself standing a foot away from Azriel. 

“Hi, Azriel,” you greeted, a pleasant smile on your face. Despite the freezing temperatures, the feeling of those shadows dancing through your hair brought you a joy like you had never felt before. 

Hazel eyes widened as the spymaster looked at you with surprise. “You know my name?”

You giggled, the sound like music to Azriel’s ears as you nodded. “Of course, everyone knows who you are.” You didn’t include how often you had thought of him since that day in Emerie’s shop.

The two of you started up a friendship after that. The highlight of your day was when you were able to escape your husband, finding your best friend in town - the male in the shadows who always made you feel seen. Azriel was kind, unlike any other male you had known, his warm smile always making you feel safe. 

And then you were pregnant. You cried, unable to find the energy to leave your house for days when you learned you were going to have a child. Growing up, dreaming of having a family of your own, you never envisioned that it would be like this. Your husband came home from the tavern to find you crying, smacking you across the face with the back of his hand. When you cried harder, he hit you again. The tears only stopped falling when your vision finally faded to black, and you lay unconscious on the floor.

You awoke the next morning, pain radiating throughout your body. The glance you dared in the mirror wasn’t necessary to tell you how you must look, but it was confirmation. Dried blood trailed from your nose, black circles under your eyes from the pressure of how hard he hit you. 

Silver lined your eyes, but tears would not fall. A new sharpness edged your expression, mirroring the resolution you felt inside. This male would never make you cry again. You quickly left the house, headed towards Emerie’s shop in desperation for help. You didn’t care what it would cost you - your child deserved a better life than Windhaven.

~~~

Azriel almost fell to his knees when he saw you for the first time in nearly a week. He had accepted the fate that you no longer needed his friendship, that you were happy with your husband. But when his shadows whispered to him that you were injured, cobalt siphons glowed as the shadowsinger barely leashed his concern. 

A lump formed in Azriel’s throat when he took in your appearance. The scarf that you had pulled over your nose to cover most of the bruises didn’t disguise the scent of your blood - or your pregnancy. He hardly registered that you were carrying that male’s child, his main focus on what happened to you. 

His heart might burst at how your eyes lit up when you noticed him in the street - how you ran to him, your body so small compared to his as you wrapped him in a hug. That bursting heart shattered when he heard your wince as he hugged you back. “What happened to you?” Azriel murmured, deathly quiet.

You swallowed, looking up at him with those beautiful eyes that had turned his world upside down that day in Emerie’s shop - those eyes that now seemed so hollow, missing the life they once held. Unable to find the words of last night’s events, you could only manage to tell Azriel, “I need to get my baby out of here. I can’t... my husband will never be near this child.”

The venom in your voice as those last words left you told Azriel everything he needed to know. “Do you trust me?” You nodded, still clinging to Azriel as tight as you could without hurting yourself. He pressed a kiss to your hair, wrapping you gently in his arms. “I’m going to get you to a home and a healer.”

~~~

No sooner had the words left his mouth than you found yourself engulfed by shadows, spirited away to a cozy living room in a large, warm home. “Welcome to Velaris,” Azriel whispered, gently turning you around to face the view of a beautiful city unlike that which you’d ever seen. The sun was setting over the mountains, casting a pinkish hue across the sky and you thought you must be in paradise. “Come on, I’ll take you upstairs to clean up.”

Azriel took your hand, helping as you slowly climbed the grand staircase up to a luxurious bedroom. It was tidy, with a massive bed and a seating area around a hearth, a crackling fire casting a warm glow over the room. The space smelled like rain and cedar, and you realized that you were in Azriel’s bedroom. 

Grief hits at the worst times, and in the strongest waves. And it was grief - for your old home, for your child’s life with a father, for any hope of what you dreamed your life would be - that overcame you as you crumpled to the ground, sobs tearing from your body as Azriel knelt in front of you. 

Finding the courage to look up, you found hazel eyes watching you with a tenderness that you had never felt before, and the breath left your lungs as the cord snapped in your chest. Azriel let out a noise between a laugh and a choked cry as scarred hands held your battered and bruised face. “You... You’re my mate?” The words left you in little more than a whisper, the hope behind them more dangerous than you could allow yourself to feel. 

With a soft smile and a somehow softer touch, Azriel brushed the hair that had fallen into your eyes, tucking it behind your ear as he nodded. “I promised myself that I wouldn’t intervene as long as you were happy, but I will be here for you. As a friend, or whatever you need. I am yours, and I will care for you and that baby as much or as little as you want me to be. I am here for you.” 

His words ignited something in you - a hope that the love and the family that you had dreamed of was possible. Without another thought, you pulled Azriel into a searing kiss, his eager reciprocation the validation you needed as you allowed yourself to enjoy this moment. You pulled away, forehead resting against Azriel’s as you breathed, “I want you. In every way, I want you, Azriel. You are the best thing in my life, and I don’t want to part from you.” 

Azriel’s smile was brighter than the sun. “You have me,” he whispered, “and I will spend the rest of my existence loving you.” 

You couldn’t tell how long you stayed there, holding each other on the floor of the bedroom before Azriel dared to interrupt the moment. “I have a bath ready for you in the other room.”

Looking to him with mock offense, you gaped. “Are you saying I smell, shadowsinger?” 

The laugh that left his lips fueled you with enough joy for years to come, Azriel leaning forward to kiss the tip of your nose. “Not at all, but the healer, Madja, is coming soon, along with Rhys and Feyre. I thought you might want to clean up before Madja tends to you, and I will bring you some clean clothes.” 

Azriel helped you up, the male respectfully looking away as you undressed and stepped into the tub, immediately relaxing your aching muscles. You giggled at his propriety, reveling in the twitch of Azriel’s wing at the sound. He cleared his throat, announcing that he would wait in the other room when you winced. 

Azriel whipped around, his eyes wide as he searched you with concern. Giving him a weak smile, you slowly lowered your arm that was reaching for the soap. “I don’t think I can wash my hair myself. Would...you be able to help me, Az?”

He swallowed thickly, giving you a slight nod as he mutely moved behind you. You laughed slightly at his obvious nerves. “I’m not shy, Az. Don’t worry,” you promised. He seemed to relax slightly behind you as his hands lathered your hair with soap, gently massaging it into your scalp. You bit back the tears that threatened to spill as you realized no one had ever taken care of you like this in your life - instead reaching your hand up, Azriel meeting you halfway as he held it, lowering to press a kiss to the bruised skin. 

Angling your head back, you looked up into those hazel eyes, pulling on his hand in silent request. Azriel leaned down to kiss you softly, but you wanted more, deepening the kiss as you pulled him further. Azriel stumbled, catching his balance as he almost fell into the water. 

He chuckled, sitting back up to rinse out your hair. Azriel’s eyes darkened as he scented your arousal, shaking his head at the smirk that played on your lips. “As much as I would love to pleasure you right now, Rhys just informed me that they are almost here.” He walked around to the side of the tub, crooking one finger under your chin. “And when I do make love to you, I plan to worship you until my body gives out.”

A shiver ran down your spine at the promise, your mind struggling to stay focused as you took the towel from Azriel and stepped out of the bath. You got dressed, sitting down on the bed just as a knock sounded at the door. The High Lord and High Lady entered, waving off your attempts at formality as the healer introduced herself.

The High Lady - Feyre - as she insisted you call her, stayed with you the entire time as Madja tended to your injuries and checked on the baby. Azriel stood in the corner with Rhysand, the two males talking in hushed tones. 

Madja cleared you and the baby, giving you several tonics to take for your injuries and told you that she would be back in another week to check on you and the baby. Feyre and Rhysand didn’t linger long, Madja insisting that you needed the rest and that the “chit-chat” could happen later. 

You patted the space next to you in bed, inviting Azriel to come sit, and laid your head on his chest as you let your eyes drift shut. “Az, what were you discussing with the High Lord? If you don’t mind me asking.” 

You felt him tense behind you for a moment, silence hanging in the air as Azriel seemed to weigh his words carefully. “Rhys has been made aware of what happened to you, and we’ve made sure that those responsible will not be responsible for any further pain, to you or anyone else.”

As understanding dawned on you of what Azriel meant, you were surprised at the lack of sorrow you felt for your husband and father. Rather, you felt a deeper peace for the first time in your life, as both you and Azriel brought your hands to rest on your womb, a silent promise that your baby would have a better childhood than you had. That together, you had a renewed hope for a better life.

[star-wrote]

I'm in love with your moodboards for Daryl! they're so beautiful to look at 💗 can I request angst for Daryl? maybe something like Daryl had a nightmare about his mother or a nightmare about his father and his childhood and the reader tries to comfort Daryl who's crying in the reader's arms <3

Dream of Me

ao3 link

Characters: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader | Pre-Saviors Alexandria Era

A/N: @liliesdiary omg thank you so much! i’m fan-girling so hard bc i love your account and moodboards too!! sorry this request took so long, lovely. i hope you enjoy!<3

Warnings: descriptions of child abuse, fire, hitting, belts, nightmares, smoking and then putting cigarette out on skin, comfort, angst, fluff

Word Count: 1415

Daryl’s face stung.

He was sure if he were to look in a mirror, his cheek would be an angry red color. He brought his hand up to feel the cut created from the belt buckle, wincing and jerking his hand away fast from the pain that blossomed from his touch. Blood covered his fingertips.

Daryl hates when his dad marks his face. He’d much rather it be his back, like usual; somewhere he could hide the damage. When his face gets messed up, his mom makes him stay home from school. Daryl loves being at school; away from his father and the pain that he causes.

Typically, Daryl would stay down and wait for his father to be done beating on him. But not today. Maybe it was the overstimulating pain, or the alcohol on his father’s breath, or the way his dad was standing over him, laughing. Whatever the cause was, didn’t matter. Daryl stood up and wormed his way out of his father’s grasp, running to the room that his mother stayed in during the time that his dad got like this.

He banged on the locked door. “Mama! Let me in, please!”

Daryl looked behind him to see his father round the corner of the hallway. He seemed to have grown ten feet tall and his stomps shook the walls of the house. Daryl was about to sit in front of the door and take what he was about to get, when the door opened and his mother pulled him inside. She shut and locked the door quickly.

Daryl wrapped his arms around his mother as she took his face in her soft hands.

“Aw, what happened to your face, sugar?” She asked him as if she didn’t hear the crack of the belt against his face.

Daryl watched as she pulled out a cigarette and lit it. His eyes widened as she brought it to her mouth.

“No, wait!” Daryl yelled out.

It was too late. His mom somehow caught on fire from the cigarette she was holding.

Little Daryl ran into the corner of the room and put his hands over his ears to drown out the sounds of her screams. Sinking to the floor, he let out a scream himself.

Daryl opened his eyes to a dark room, quickly wiping away the tears he felt on his cheeks.

He looked over at you lying in bed next to him, your features soft like an angel that fell asleep on a cloud. Gentle breaths fell from your slightly parted lips, sending a wave of relief over Daryl due to the fact that he didn’t wake you. He would feel guilty if he had.

Daryl snuck out of bed, grabbing his box of cigarettes and the lighter that were on the table next to the bed. He walked through the house like he would if he were hunting an animal; soft steps and quiet breathing. He opened the front door and let out a sigh when he exited the house and closed the door without a sound.

He walked over to the porch swing, lighting his cigarette as he sat down with a grunt.

Daryl thought of you. The first time he had a nightmare while sleeping next to you was at the prison, just a couple of nights after you two moved into your own cell. It had been about something similar, Daryl’s crappy childhood, but you only knew bits and pieces about it back then. Now, you know about most of it. About the torture he suffered at the hands of his father. About his mother dying. About Merle being either gone, on drugs, present and kind, or present and mean.

You knew that Daryl had nightmares, but he didn’t talk about them with you. Sometimes you wouldn’t wake up when he had them. Other times you did wake up. Daryl always felt bad on those nights. You would ask if he wanted to talk about them, but he would just dismiss you and sneak away somewhere to process on his own.

Which is what he was doing now. Processing. He smoked his cigarette until it was almost nothing. Then, he put it out on his hand, hearing the sizzle of his own burning flesh.

That was what you saw when you quietly opened the front door of the house, a deep sadness filling your veins as you thought about what your boyfriend had to go through on his own. You opened the door all the way, trying to make enough noise so that he would hear you and not be startled by your presence. You watched as he tossed what was left of the cigarette into the bushes and wiped off the top of his hand that was covered in ashes.

You close the front door, walk up to the swing, and motion to the bench. “Can I sit?”

He looks at you with a hint of guilt, but nods anyway.

You both sit in silence for a moment before he speaks.

“Had a nightmare.”

You nod your head. “I thought so.”

You knew he would probably say no, as he always does when you ask him if he wants to talk about it, but it was a habit to let him know that you’ll always be there to hear him talk.

Before you open your mouth to ask him the usual question, preparing for him to shrug you off and go off to his bike, he nods his head at you.

“Yeah, I wanna talk ‘bout it.”

You tried to hide your surprise, but your eyebrows raised before you could stop them. Luckily he wasn’t looking. Instead he was looking at the heart you carved into the arm of his side of the porch swing, no doubt preparing himself to talk about his nightmare.

He takes a breath and releases it before speaking.

“Was about my old man. And my mama.” He grabbed another cigarette and lit it, taking a long drag before speaking again. “My dad was hittin’ me and stuff. Got up and ran to my mom and hugged her. Then she caught on fire in front of me.”

You listened to him talk, soaking up every detail.

Daryl took another drag before talking again. “Wasn’t even how it happened. Didn’t even see ‘er die or anything. Just got home and the house was on fire and she was dead.”

You nodded as you watched him breathe in the cigarette. His breath out was shaky, his hands even shakier.

“But jus’ now, in the nightmare, I could hear her screams.” A tear fell from his eye. “Don’t know how my brain can come up with somethin’ that realistic if I ain’t never experienced it before.”

You grabbed his cigarette and put it out on the seat of the swing. His eyes finally met yours and he started sobbing. His breaths were sharp inhales and sniffs, and tears fell freely down his face.

“Oh, baby.” You said as you tugged his face into your neck, as if keeping him there would shield him from any pain that the world had to offer.

His tears soaked your shirt, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was comforting the man who wept in your arms.

“M’ sorry.” Daryl hiccuped out.

“Shh, there’s no reason to be sorry.” You ran your fingers through his hair.

You two sat like that for a little while until his tears stopped and his breathing calmed. Your hands never stopped running through his hair.

He pulled away from you and wiped his face, looking at the rising sun that started coming over the walls of Alexandria.

“Hey,” you said as you got his attention, “don’t disappear. You aren’t a burden, and I’m thankful that you trusted me enough to share.”

He nodded and grabbed your hand, pulling it to his lips to kiss your palm. “Thank ya, angel.”

You smiled at him with nothing but adoration in your eyes. He was glad to see it, worried that you would look at him differently after his breakdown.

“Let’s go back to bed. Rick can go on without us for one day.” You said as you got up, leading him back into the house.

It took some convincing, but Daryl let you spoon him. You kissed his back as he relaxed into the bed.

“Dream of me.” You whispered into his shoulder.

He fell asleep smiling with images of you in his head.

[heathermason6060]

Daryl Dixon x f!Reader: Together Apart Ch.2

Warnings/Mentions: History of abuse, neglect, strong language, mentions of character death, alcohol and drug abuse, ptsd, shared trauma, reader is cold, angst, fluff, eventual smut

Summary: Reader gives friendships a try, and the first signs of Daryl changing start showing after unexpected tragedy.

Notes: I love writing Merle and early season Daryl, I hope they're in character!

"I'm ten seconds away from blowing his goddamn brains out."

"Not worth the wasted bullets." Daryl watched as Shane stalked back up towards the Greene house. You scoffed and rolled your eyes when you saw him stopping himself from slamming the door, at least needing to respect Hershel gave him some restraint from being a complete piece of shit. You weren't sure how long that would last though.

"Can't fucking stand these people Daryl. He looked like he wanted to kill me."

"Ya called 'em a homewrecker. The hell'd you expect?"

The days would go by without pause, no matter how you all screamed and cried for just one minute, one minute to get it together and breathe. Everything was constantly changing, and it ended up making you colder. 

The Greene farm was a nice place. You enjoyed the chores you took on there, you got to work with the horses, the cows, and the old barn cat. He'd end up passing away after a while, which would have really upset you if it hadn't been such a peaceful death, he just fell asleep with a stomach full of deer stew and never woke up. 

Andrea's strange half admiration and half disturbed likeness to you strengthened at the time on the farm, which you didn't know how to handle. You'd always wanted a girlfriend, ever since your first one in 6th grade ended your friendship. Your mother had shown up to pick you up from school, so high on Percocet she could barely keep her eyes open. She rear-ended the father of your friend, he got pissed, she spit in his face, and he called the police. ‘My daddy says I can't hang out with trailer trash like you anymore.’ She'd told you the next day. 

You secretly liked the way Andrea looked up to you. It was nice having a woman think highly of you, or any adult for that matter. She would often ask for shooting practice, and you even let her try out your bow a few times. 

She kind of fucked up your budding friendship when she shot Daryl. If you hadn't been so busy helping him get up into the house you would have shot her in her foot, and that's not an exaggeration. You wanted to stay up in that room with him until he fully healed, willing to sleep on the floor just so you'd be with him at all times, but the insecure fear of being seen as weak and clingy prevented you from doing so. You were out in the woods most of those days, hunting or killing any dead you ran across.

It was almost humiliating the way people would update you on Daryl’s condition. At first it was just Rick letting you know he’d be okay, but then it was Maggie and Hershel updating you on his eating habits, how much he ate, when he ate, he was only in bed for a couple of days, but it felt like weeks. Each time someone would tell you the miniscule details of his day you’d respond the same way, ‘Why’re you telling me? I’m not his mamma’. If you could look past the embarrassment of feeling like a worried child, you would be grateful. 

Andrea unknowingly made it up to you when you heard her bitching at Lori in the kitchen once, apparently having enough of her ‘a woman's place is in the kitchen making life worth living, leave the guns to the men' spiel. You complimented her afterwards. 

“Been real sick of that shit.” You had said as you loaded your Ruger pistol. “She's lucky it was you who said it, I think I would've punched that bitch in the face if she said that bullshit to me.”

Andrea was almost too stressed over the Beth situation to fully appreciate the gravity of your praise. She nodded as she looked over the field, eyes squinting against the bright afternoon sun, her arms crossed over her chest. “All my life I've heard that kind of thinking from men. It's different when it's a woman telling you that you're not worth the same as a man. Especially when said man lied about her husband being dead and got in her pants right after.” 

You smirked, stuffing your gun into the back of your jeans as you looked her over. “Wanna go kill some dead people?” 

“Oh, god.” She groaned dramatically. “That's the best idea I've heard all week.”

After you lost the farm, you wound up at an old prison. That was one of the rare times you had allowed yourself to try and be positive, and forced yourself to make friends, although it was obvious all your relationships were strained. Andrea was the only person who had ever made an effort to get to know you, and she was gone. 

Shane’s death didn’t affect you much, truthfully you were glad Rick killed him. The constant tension and heated arguments drained you just as much as Dale’s annoying humanitarianism. You attempted being friends with Lori, Hershel, Carol and Beth, despite the young girl being your polar opposite. She was soft, pretty, sweet and bubbly, you were hard, mean, vulgar and distant. 

Which might be one of the reasons your relationship with her had started to work. Beth saw you as a challenge, like a mean feral cat, and deep down you saw her as a possible redemption. If you could become friends with Beth, the sweetest girl with the kindest heart, you could do it with anyone. 

Lori never trusted you, so you never got far with her. She would look at you with this look on her face, like you were always seconds away from cutting her baby out of her stomach or some twisted shit. You had cursed her out once for said expressions, calling her a stuck-up bitch who thinks every woman that isn't her is beneath her. She died a couple days later, and a part of you that you couldn't push away felt like shit about it, for a very long time.

The whole Governor shit was a pain in your ass. But it was a blessing in disguise, because he was the reason you were reunited with Merle. 

“I want to come.” You stood your ground, grabbing your Ruger AR-15 from its spot on your cell wall. 

“I said no, we’ve got enough concerns, we don't need to be worrying about you.” Rick tried to speak in a hushed tone, his intentions good, not wanting you to feel embarrassed if the others heard you being denied. They knew you seethed at the prospect of being told what to do. You didn't work well with others, that was glaringly obvious.

“I don’t need you to worry about me.” You hissed, tugging the heavy gun over your back so the strap dug into your shoulder. 

Rick repeated your name, using his angry father tone, and that seemed to work. Your shoulders drooped and you growled out a few insults under your breath. You missed when the group members had more say in the way things were. Rick had become more authoritarian after Lori died, and it never affected you until that day. 

When they got back you were waiting at the door, pacing like a mother in those movies whose children had stayed out too late. Your eyes brightened as they filed into the prison, you saw Maggie and Glenn were back, and Michonne had returned as well. 

Your anxious smile slowly faded as the door closed behind them, counting two missing bodies. 

“Where…?” You breathed, looking between Rick and Maggie, your heart racing. 

Rick started having a goddamn mental breakdown after that, screaming at the walls and pointing his gun at things only visible to him. Tyrese, the newcomer, and his group fled, and a part of you considered it as well. If Daryl and Merle were dead, you had no reason to stay. Especially not with Rick behaving like a fucking maniac and no one speaking to you. 

True to your nature, you abandoned the prison in search of the Dixons. You knew they couldn’t have truly left, they would never do that, they'd never leave and forget you. Especially Daryl. He had promised to you one night after you fully secured the prison, that he was the one thing in your life that would never change. He’d never die, he’d never leave, he would always be there. Not in those exact words, of course, but in his own way.

He had stayed true to his promise. You found the two of them on their way to the prison, traveling through the same trails you’d originally used to find the place. 

“Thought I’d never see you two assholes again.” The apocalypse had made you more skilled at hiding your true emotions. You came off as playfully irritated, a contrast to the way you were barely keeping tears at bay. 

“Awww,” Merle teased in a condescending tone, faking a pout, “You miss us?”

“No. Rick’s group makes you seem like a peach though.” 

“Our group.” Daryl’s voice had taken on a strange edge as he walked ahead of you down the trail. “Those are our people now.”

You glanced at Merle to see he was outwardly displaying your same reaction, rolling his eyes and silently mimicking his brother's words. 

No matter how happy you were to see the two of them, Daryl’s reply echoed in your head for a long time. He meant what he said, you could tell by the way he spoke. He was changing, you hadn’t noticed it until that day, he wasn’t the same Daryl from Atlanta, the Daryl you knew. You swallowed your retort and followed him back to the prison. 

The Governor shit was really a pain in your ass after that day, making your earlier experiences a walk in the park. Through the tense days you found yourself around Merle more, the two of you discussing the prospect of just getting the fuck out of there in hushed voices, despite you both knowing Daryl would never abandon Ricks group. It was like he had some sort of unknown obligation to them, something you couldn't decode for the life of you, no matter how hard you tried.

“You're gettin’ real close to bein’ a bonafide pussy, boy.” Merle had said one day, shoving his finger in Daryl’s face. You stayed silent as they argued, biting at the soft skin inside your cheek. 

“Why? Cause I ain't jus’ lookin’ out for myself no more? Cause I actually give a shit about these people?” Daryl standing up to Merle wasn’t a familiar sight, and it made you feel emotions you really weren’t comfortable with. 

“It’s making you weak, brother.” Merle urged, nearly slicing his own scalp when he went to put his hands on his head, the heat of the moment causing him to forget his right hand was now a weapon. “Can't you see it? I ain’t gonna let you die for these sheep.”

Daryl would soon come to regret his last interaction with his brother. You, on the other hand, were lucky enough to have had some peaceful final moments with him before he vanished. 

“Dude, that's my fucking bed!” You shoved Merle away from your mattress, groaning when you saw it shredded and ruined. You’d have to go to the other cellblock and get another, if he hadn’t already paid those cells a visit. 

Merle sat on the floor breathing heavily through his mouth, resting an arm over his propped up knee.

“The hell you do that for?” You grumbled, kicking a chunk of bedding out of your cell and into the hallway. 

“Hopin’ to find some contraband.” 

“Dude, you could’ve just asked me. Holy shit.” You grabbed one of your bags from the corner of your room and began to dig through it, finally pulling out Merle’s old stash bag. HIs eyes lit up and he practically jumped for joy, snatching it out of your hands.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?” He grabbed your face with his hand and noisily kissed your cheek, making you groan and shove him off. “Oh sweetheart. Whooo! Daryl know about this?”

“No, didn’t want him to know. I’m better at making shit last than him.” You replied. Daryl didn't like drugs the way Merle did, he had his run in with meth and its consequences and he was strong enough to quit and not touch it again. Other drugs were a different story though, you suspected the speed and painkillers would be gone by now if he had known you were the one who stole it.

He fished out the group of smaller baggies he was looking for, full of various shades of white in different textures. He groaned like he just creamed his pants and leaned over, planting another dramatic smooch to your forehead.

You stayed with him on the floor of your cell as he got high, and eventually he left to go ‘clear out the walkers in the tombs’, something you were happy to sit out on. He told you to stay back and you laughed, teasing with a ‘it's all yours, tweaker’. 

Even though your last moments with him were pleasant, you never forgave yourself for not accompanying him. 

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams @my1fx

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

To Love You (Platonic Yandere!Child x Monster! Reader)

Chapter 2: The men in his life

[part 0, 1, here]

CW: femme bodied GN Reader, vulgar language, mentions of abuse, infidelity, unintentional manipulation

Stepping out of the shower felt no different than stepping into it. The wetness was felt, as the water was absorbed into their skin, but just as they could not feel the cold outside, they could not take comfort in the warmth of a shower.

Their home was.. quaint. (Reader) had to learn the concept of an apartment from their newly adopted son (the disgust they felt when they looked out at the building and believed the family lived in a hotel was visible on their face), and although they had their reservations, it wasn't nearly as pathetic as they assumed it would be. They had lived in poverty before, in a space larger than this, however there was electricity and heating; there was more fresh food than (Reader) knew was possible of storing, there were plants and plenty of clothes. Everything was very advanced, and it seemed as though life was much easier to live than before (even if they needed assistance with activating the shower).

Leaving faint footprints on the fake wooden floor, (Reader) saw family portraits both hung up and in standing frames on random shelving. Avery sleepily teetered over towards the monster, instinctively reaching out to grab their hand.

"I... did a truly terrible job of recreating her."

"Hm?"

"I look nothing like your mother."

Avery's hand flexed open for a millisecond before squeezing tighter. His face was scrunched in confusion, like his inability to process his own emotions was upsetting him. "I'm okay with that."

I'm sure you are. (Reader) glanced from Luanne to the man smiling next to her. But will he?

"What is your father's name?"

"Michael."

(Reader) picked up the drowsy child. His hair still smelled like the woods. "Is he a good man?"

The boy sagged, melting into his new "mother's" arms. "I mean, yeah? Mom yells at him a lot though.."

His room was decorated with comic book posters and action figures on every surface. The bed felt luxurious to the monster, and the blanket was expertly made, with intricate characters dyed into the fabric. They would later learn that it was a mass produced comforter, but at that moment it made them wonder who bought such an obviously expensive bed set for a child. If it was the mother, then why? She seemed to despise her son. And if it was the father, then that seemed to be a sign of good luck for (Reader). A kind and loving husband would probably be more welcoming to a previously hostile wife if "she" suddenly became equally as kind and loving.

Avery's tired eyes became unfocused as (Reader) tucked him in.

"Will you still be here when I wake up?"

(Reader) thought of Luanne. Her slightly crinkled skin under her eyes in the photos on the walls. The bright red lipstick on the bathroom counter and the perfume bottle in the medicine cabinet that reeked like her jacket and the skin she owned as (Reader) tore open her body.

"Yes." They were beginning to feel that they were just as confused as Avery.

This family was just a cover. And this family would eventually be nothing more than a meal.

But despite that, they still sat on his bed until the child fell asleep.

(Reader) almost went to investigate their own bed, when the front door opened very softly and slowly. Someone was sneaking in. They calmly changed direction in the hall, silently entering the living room to meet their new husband, who was quietly attempting to remove his shoes.

The monster watched him, his awkward movements as his heart loudly beat in his white collared shirt, and they felt a sense of unease. This was, clearly, Michael. It was the same man from the photographs. So why was he tiptoeing into his own home?

Michael took a shaky breath, calming his anxious heart, when he turned around and saw his wife, nearly experiencing a heart attack.

"Jesus, Luanne! Why're you just standing there?" His tone was accusatory despite the warm smile he had on his face. "I'm sorry I'm late, I got held up by that prick Donnie. Made me stay late to fix some fuck up that the new kid made.."

As he, loudly, approached the monster posing as his wife, they could smell him; and suddenly everything made sense.

He didn't even blink as he stared into his wife's eyes. There was no flicker of discomfort, recognition in his expression.. Michael couldn't tell that there was something off about Luanne.

His shirt smelled like chemicals and fruit and plastic and alcohol.

He leaned in to kiss (Reader).

They were used to kissing humans.

They never once enjoyed it.

But it was something they had to do.

To blend in.

However, when Michael opened his mouth it wasn't just cheap wine (Reader) could smell. It was slightly acidic. And they reared their head away in disgust.

Of course a man like this wouldn't have ever noticed that his wife was abusing his son.

"Your breath smells like another woman's cunt." They still expected Michael to finally notice that they weren't his wife, but even after hearing their voice it didn't seem to phase him.

"..Not this again." He abruptly spun away. "I just got home after a long day, can you not act like a crazy bitch for five fucking minutes?!"

He tossed his keys onto the little table by the front door as aggressively as he could without "throwing" them.

"I work so hard for you and Avery, and all you do is complain. How is that fair to me? You promised you wouldn't bring this up again, and yet here you are-"

"Avery and I were in an accident today." (Reader) cut him off. They didn't really want any sympathy from him, they just didn't want to listen to his pathetic moaning.

Their words seemed to shock him out of his tirade. "What? Is he okay?"

"Yes. However, I have a concussion.. the amb-u-lance doctors said that it was normal to experience some mild memory loss." They hoped their face appeared sincere. "I'm sorry. I thought I smelled something.."

Michael didn't seem to notice that his wife's speech had changed drastically. He reached out in a sympathetic manner, cupping their face with his hand.

"If it's that bad, why didn't they take you to a hospital?"

Ah.

"They suggested I go if my confusion worsens or if I developed any new symptoms."

He sighed through a grimace. "Well.. I'm glad you're alright."

(Reader) contemplated eating him.

"I see you've already showered.. why don't you go to bed, I'll be there in a second?"

You disgust me.

"I'm going to lay down with Avery. I'm still a little shaken up after the accident."

"How did it-?" Michael sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. We can talk in the morning."

He reached out again to hold (Reader), and it felt like mold growing on their skin when he planted a kiss on their forehead. His grip was tight on their shoulders, as if to prove that he could kiss them whenever he felt like it and they had no choice.

No; Luanne had no choice.

(Reader) flashed him a smile. He only smiled back.

What a prick.

They silently left the cheating bastard and returned to Avery's bedroom, where they could hear from his breathing that he had woken up and was doing his best to pretend to sleep. "May I lay down for a while?"

He didn't respond but scooted over to make room on his twin sized bed. The child was so small that it didn't cause much cramping to lie beside him.

"Avery?" It was plain curiosity. But a curiosity that was not appropriate when taking to a child. "Why didn't your father stop Luanne?"

Avery opened his large baby like eyes, staring up at (Reader's) unblinking ones. "What do you mean?"

"Did he ever ask you about your bruises?"

"Yes." He answered automatically before pausing, trying to recall a time when his dad may have noticed how mean his mom could be, and realizing that there was none. Every argument they ever had was about them. They were never about him. "No."

(Reader) wondered why they were probing their son. Maybe, deep down the know what they were doing: driving a wedge between them so (Reader) could eat the boy's father without regret. Yet, it didn't feel that way. They wanted to know. They were curious.

"I am not a human."

"..I know."

"My sense of smell is much greater than yours. As is my hearing."

"Really?"

They pulled Avery into a hug, whispering "I can hear your father's heart from the kitchen."

Instead of fear, this revelation seemed to excite the boy. "Really?!" He theatrically whispered back.

"I can smell.. a raccoon outside, climbing a tree."

A small gasp before a "You are a hero!" squeaked out of Avery.

"Avery." Their voice turned serious. "I can smell another woman on your father."

His breathing hitched. "What does that mean?"

".. Your mother was a very bad person for what she did to you. And your father.. he should have noticed what was happening."

Silence thickened between the two. The concept that his father failed him settled into Avery's tiny, six year old brain. Everything felt very complicated, and it was wearing him down. He felt more exhaustion than he felt in a very long time. "Will you protect me?"

(Reader's) mouth moved before the thought formed in their mind. "Yes."

After a very loud, one sided argument about the trashed vehicle, the monster was taking their new boy to school via the city bus. They understood that a motorized carriage must have been expensive, but their survival felt more important. On top of the irritation from an unnecessary "conversation" with their "husband", it stressed out Avery, who appeared to be distant with his father.

The city bus stunk of piss. It was disgusting, but Avery seemed impressed.

"Mom, there's my school!" He jabbed the window, pointing at a very large building,

"Is this a private institution?"

"Inst- insti- tush- ...no, it's a regular school?"

His face lit up with pride when his mom complimented his school, "It's impressive."

That is what they said, however, after exiting the bus and entering the school grounds, there was a very stern looking man glaring at (Reader) from the steps. He was about Michael's age, shaved bald sporting thick framed glasses and was smartly dressed. Upon seeing his frightening stare, they gently squeezed Avery's hand to catch his attention. "Do I know that man?"

"Yeah, that's Mr. Knight.." Avery sounded very quiet. "He's the counselor. He came over for a visit a few weeks ago."

"Why?"

"I don't know?" He lied.

The serious man's face completely changed when Avery drew near, cracking into a large, lopsided and toothy smile. "Good morning, Mr. Avery! How ya doin?" His voice was impressively deep, but (Reader) was more impressed by the fact that they had just realized there were children and teachers of all races entering the same building. They allowed themselves to smile widely, feeling a moment that was close to satisfaction: having been so many people, it was like joy and revenge all at once to be in the future.

But their smile fell when they looked back at the counselor, and recognized the emotion plastered on his form.

He saw (Reader's) smile, and he could tell that it was different.

He was not like Michael, who was so blind to his wife that he did not notice the change; this man saw their smile, and felt the fear, disgust, confusion, and discomfort that humans felt when they saw a fake human.

The uncanny valley.

Mr. Knight visibly shuttered before returning to his previous anger. "Good morning, Mrs. Jones." He spat out the name like it was vinegar. "I see you're personally escorting your son today."

(Reader) focused on keeping their face neutral.

Avery responded before the creature could. "We got into an accident. The car is getting fixed, so we took the bus."

Worry filled his dark eyes, returning his attention to Avery. "An accident? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, but Mom hit her head."

The sympathy he expressed was so plainly fake that it felt spiteful. "Well. Hopefully your injury wasn't too severe?"

(Reader) smiled again.

It made perfect sense. This man hated Luanne, Avery's real mother. But that woman was dead.

"I'm feeling much better now, thank you."

He involuntarily shivered at their voice. Even though he had no way of knowing that the mother was actually an ancient boogeyman forgotten by time, he clearly could feel it.

And while they respected that there seemed to be one adult who cared for Avery, they recognized that Mr. Knight would potentially be a headache for them in the near future.

[huffelpuff210]

Ours Part 2 Soft Dark Alpha Stucky x Omega Reader

Ours Part 2 Soft Dark Alpha Stucky x Omega Reader

Warning: withdraw, anger, dark themes, kidnapping, drugging, held against will, confinement, forced relationship, manhandling, past abuse, 

Your senses slowly start drifting back, 

“Jesus Bucky how much of that did you give her? She’s been out for two days,” You hear a male voice, 

You can smell they were Alpha’s and you could feel your heart rate spike, You didn’t like Alpha’s, they terrified you, they made you uncomfortable. 

“The exact amount Tony told me to give.” You hear another voice, 

“Well obviously his math was off.” You hear the other voice say 

You slowly turn you head trying to wake yourself, 

“Steve.” You hear 

and suddenly it got quiet, 

You were trying your hardest to open your eyes but it was proving to be a bit more difficult.

Your heavy eyelid slowly flutter open, and you are now staring at an unfamiliar ceiling, 

“Thank god she’s finally awake.” You hear next to you, 

You slowly turn your head you saw two men, one had dark hair icy blue eyes and a metal arm, 

He smelled like pine, and cinnamon, it was almost intoxicating, the other man had sandy blonde hair and blue eyes, he smelled like the forest right after a rainstorm, 

these two were Alpha’s you were still in a bit of a daze,

“Good afternoon sleeping beauty you’ve been asleep for a few days, we were starting to worry.” The blonde says 

Then everything registered 

These two were Alpha’s and they kidnapped you, the terror running though your veins, 

You jump out of the opposite side of the bed, backing away from the two, your legs still a bit shaky, 

“You- You-” You couldn’t even speak you were so terrified, 

“Easy Omega were not going to hurt you.” The dark haired Alpha says with his hands up meaning peace, but you don’t trust these men, you don’t trust any Alpha, 

You could feel your heart pounding against your chest as it rose and fell rapidly, 

As you look around the room not entirely sure where you were. Memories of your past come flooding back, your father, whipping you with a piece of bamboo, just to cause you pain, your brothers holding you down as you cried, 

The small room, you feel your green eyes glow the icy blue as you start to panic, the two alpha’s look at you in shock and in their shocking state you make a run for it, bursting out of the room, past the living room and out the main door where there was more hallways, you run left your breathing, shallow and ragged having a panic attack as you were running you smelled many Alpha’s in the building, you find a stair well running as fast as you could down the stair well, while you were panicking at the same time, what did these Alpha’s want with you, you were on pills that block your smell, why did they kidnap you? 

suddenly someone jumped from above blocking your path, making you back up and look as small as you could possibly look it was the man with dark hair, you back into a corner, 

“P-Please don’t hurt me.” You say with a shaky voice, 

“No one is gonna hurt you doll.” He says approaching you cautiously 

You slide down the wall looking up at him, you’ve heard those words many of times, from your father, He was a ruthless Alpha, he blamed you for your mother’s death and always treated you as an object not a person, 

And because of that you didn’t want to be in the clutches of an alpha, but here you were terrified trapped like prey, helpless to do anything, panic taking over all your training in self defense forgotten, you were paralyzed in fear, your heart hammering against your chest, 

“look doll, no one is going to hurt you but you need to calm down, your on a verge of a panic attack.” He says 

you can still feel your eyes glowing the electric blue that your father said were disgusting that he would love to dig them out of your eye sockets. 

“Watch. In through your nose, out of your mouth, Deep breath in slow breath out.” He says 

Sadly you listen to what he says, you feel yourself calming down, your eyes turning back to their green color, 

“Good doll your doing good.” He says with a smile as he is kneeling in front of you as you look into his eyes and look down quickly, 

They only want one thing from you. 

“Now why don’t we go back to the room so we can talk?’ a voice to your left says it was the man with blonde hair, you have no idea how long he was there you were too much in a panic to notice, 

You hesitate, 

“You don’t really have a choice in the matter doll, we are just giving you the option to walk.” The man with the dark hair says, 

You stiffen and swallow thickly, you nod slowly standing up, they both walked aside of you, 

they both were massive compared to you, nothing but muscle you stood no chance against these alpha’s even if you used self defense against them, they would break you in half like a twig, 

the three of you arrive back in the room, it was massive, you didn’t notice before since you were in such a panicked state, 

“Now let’s sit and talk.” The blonde says with a smile as you stood there still in disbelief that all of this was happening. 

[winchesterwild78]

An Unexpected Friendship pt 2

Master List

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Reader’s daughter, Jensen’s children

Warnings/Trigger Warnings: mention of domestic violence, mention of character death, 

A/N: This is a short story written in collaboration with @cheekygirl2309. In this story the reader is a widow who has a 4 year old daughter. She’s dating a very abusive man, so she enrolls her daughter in preschool to keep her as shielded as possible. At the preschool we find her daughter has made friends with a set of twins. At pick up one day the reader realizes the parent of her daughter’s best friend is none other than Jensen Ackles. A friendship forms, and decisions are made after a particularly nasty fight with her boyfriend. 

No disrespect to Jensen or his family. This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life.

This chapter got a bit long….sorry.

Minors DNI 18+

Jensen arrived home late. Jared was sleeping on the couch when he came inside. “Hey Jar, wake up man.” Jensen said quietly. Jared stretched, “Oh hey man. How’s Y/N?” 

Jensen’s head hung slightly, “Not good man. He almost killed her. She’s in a medically induced coma because he beat her up so badly.” Jared’s mouth fell open, “Damn man. I’m sorry to hear that. How’s her daughter?” “She’s okay. She’s going to be staying with Y/N’s best friend.” “That’s good. At least she has someone she knows.” “Yeah, she’s friends with Arrow and Zep. They are in the same class, I just wish there was more I could do to help both of them. I know Arrow and Zep really like Jazmyne.”

“Well man, thanks for watching the kids for me, you should head home.” “Yeah, of course, and Jensen, I do hope Y/N’s gonna be okay. No one deserves what she went through.” Jensen just nodded in agreement, his words caught in his throat as he thought about how she looked in the bed. He had never understood how someone could do that to another person. It upset him, and made him so angry.

After Jared left, Jensen crawled into bed. He had to be up in a few hours to take the kids to school. He tossed and turned most of the night. His heart ached for Y/N and Jazmyne. The fear in her voice when she called him, the look on Jazmyne’s face and how she clung to him, and how bruised and battered you looked in the bed. All of it playing like a record in his head. 

He finally fell asleep for what felt like ten minutes before his alarm went off. Jensen grumbled as he turned off the alarm and crawled out of bed. He jumped in the shower and got dressed. 

Walking through the quiet house his mind drifted to his late wife. She was not only an amazing wife and mother, but an amazing person. She would volunteer at JJ’s school, while juggling working at the brewery, other projects she worked on, and holding down the household while Jensen was away filming. When she got pregnant with the twins after years of trying, her and Jensen were ecstatic. She went to every appointment, asked every question she could think of and made sure they were ready to bring home not one, but two newborns. 

When she died during their birth, Jensen’s soul was crushed. His arms full with their newborns, but empty at the same time. Family and friends rallied around him to help with all three children, but he was lost. His wife, his partner, the love of his life, was gone. 

He didn’t know why Jazmyne’s father wasn’t in the picture, but he was sure it had to be something significant. Now you were dealing with Robert and his abusive nature. Jensen didn’t understand why he felt so protective of you so quickly. He hardly knew you. 

About an hour after he got up the kids were awake and ready for school. He took JJ to school first and then the twins to school. Walking towards the entrance he saw Jazmyne and Nichole. The twins ran to Jazmyne and Jensen chuckled. 

“Good morning Jazzy and Nichole. How are you two today?” Jazmyne’s eyes went wide when she saw Jensen. Nichole offered a soft smile. “Hey, can I talk to you after drop off?” Nichole asked Jensen. “Of course. I wanted to talk to you too.” They walked the kids in and agreed to meet at the coffee shop around the corner to talk. 

Once at the coffee shop, Jensen got the coffees and Nichole grabbed a table. “Hey, thanks for meeting with me. I just wanted to tell you thank you for everything last night. I’m sure it wasn’t how you expected to spend your evening. I’m sure by now you know Y/N was in an abusive relationship with a guy named Robert. She ended it with him and he came back. I feel so guilty for not doing everything I could to get him away from her. He didn’t start out hitting her. Then she’d show up with bruises and marks. Her late husband, Josh, would never have laid his hands on her.” 

Jensen sat there listening and taking in everything she was saying. “So how did Josh pass?” Jensen finally asked. “When Jazzy was almost 2 he got hurt in an accident at work and was killed. I didn’t think Y/N would ever recover. He was the love of her life. She got so depressed and lonely we thought we were going to lose her too. Then one day we showed up and she was up and smiling. I know she was putting on a show for us, but I think eventually she got a little better. It took us forever to convince her to go out on a date, and then she ended up with this jackass.” 

“I’m so sorry to hear she lost her husband. I lost my wife when she gave birth to the twins. I’m still not over it completely and I don’t think I ever will be. Is there anything I can do to help Y/N, Jazzy or you?”

“Honestly, you being there for her and Jazzy is great. I’d definitely like to plan that play date. Jazzy is going to need as much support as possible. She’s going to miss Y/N and she won’t understand why she can’t see her.” 

“Yeah, I get it. Hopefully she heals quickly enough and Jazzy can see her. I know they are very close.” 

After about thirty minutes, Jensen and Nichole parted ways. Nichole was headed to Y/N’s house to get some things for Jazmyne, Jensen was headed to the hospital. 

Walking down the cool hallway, the air thick with the unmistakable smell of a hospital, Jensen’s heart pounded in his chest. Since he lost his wife, hospitals always brought back some anxiety. So being here brought it all back. 

Jensen stood outside your room for a minute. He took a steady breath and started to open the door when a nurse approached him. “Um excuse me, are you family?” Jensen turned and he saw a flash of recognition in the nurse’s face. “Oh hi, yeah. I’m her boyfriend.” 

The nurse’s face flashed with anger and panic. “I don’t think I can let you in her room, sir.” She said looking up at Jensen. Jensen knew what she was thinking, “Oh no ma’am, I’m not the one who did that to her. That was her ex, Robert.” “Still, I need to check with the police officer before I let you in.” 

“Yes ma’am, I understand that. I’ll wait here.” Jensen gestured towards the empty chair outside your room. She nodded and walked towards the desk.

Jensen saw her look over at him while she was on the phone. Then he saw her nod and hang up. She walked over, offered an apologetic smile, “Thank you for waiting, Mr. Ackles. You’re cleared to go in. I’m sorry.” Jensen stood and smiled, “No problem ma’am. I appreciate you keeping her safe.”

She nodded and Jensen walked into your room. He took the chair closest to you and reached for your hand. Taking your hand in his, he rubbed soft circles on the back of your hand while he talked to you. “Hey, Y/N. I just want you to know Jazzy is safe. Nichole is keeping her and I’ve told her if they need anything to let me know. They are still looking for Robert. There’s a warrant out for his arrest, so hopefully they catch him soon. I wish I could make all this go away and you and Jazzy were safe. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” 

Without thinking, Jensen stood, leaned over your bed and placed a kiss on your forehead. He felt a pull towards you and it scared him, because he hardly knew you. 

You had been in the hospital for a little over a week. It was late at night and Jensen was getting ready for bed when his phone rang. “Hello?” Jensen said cautiously. “Oh hey, Jensen it’s Nichole. I really hate to ask you, but could you watch Jazzy. I just got an emergency phone call from my sister. I have to go out of town for a few days. Y/N has no other family here and I don’t know what to do.” 

Jensen immediately said yes. “Yeah, can you bring her over here? The kids are already in bed. I can get her set up in my guestroom for now.” “Oh Jensen, you’re amazing. Thank you. I am so sorry for this. I know you’ve been pulled into this whole situation and now I’m dumping Jazzy off on you.”

“Hey, Nichole, you’re not dumping her off on me. I offered and told you if you needed anything to let me know. I’m fine with it as long as you think Y/N will be too.” “Oh yeah, she would. Can you send me your address? We could be there in less than 30 minutes.” “Yeah, sure. The gate code is 05301202. Just shoot me a text and I’ll make sure I’m downstairs to help you bring her in.” “Thanks, Jensen. See you soon.”

Jensen walked into the guest room and sighed. He had forgotten it was full of boxes and things he needed to donate but hadn’t had time. He didn’t want to wake the twins up so he decided to make a bed on the floor of his room. 

A few minutes later he got a text from Nichole that she was there. He went downstairs and opened the door. She was carrying Jazzy, who was sleeping in her arms. “Want me to take her?” He asked. Nichole shook her head. Jensen carefully took the sleeping child out of Nichole’s arms and carried her upstairs. He laid her down on the floor bed and covered her up. 

Walking back downstairs he helped Nichole bring in Jazzy’s things. 

“Jensen, thank you again for helping. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do. My flight leaves in about an hour so I can’t stay long. Please keep me updated on everything with Y/N. I’ve already called the hospital and told them to contact you with any updates. I’ll be in and out of the hospital back home helping and dealing with my grandmother.” Jensen placed his hand on Nichole’s arm, “It’s fine, you go take care of your family, I’ve got your girls. I promise.” She hugged Jensen and then left. 

Jensen crept upstairs and checked on all the kids before crawling into bed. He heard Jazzy’s soft snores and occasional whimper. His heart hurt for her. He knew she missed her mom. His children would do the same thing in their sleep, especially around special days, like birthdays or Mother’s Day.

Jensen finally fell asleep after having his mind race for what felt like forever. When his alarm went off he carefully got up and looked over at Jazmyne. She was still sleeping, and curled into a ball. He grabbed his stuff and tiptoed to the bathroom to get ready. 

As he came out he saw the little girl stir awake. Her eyes wide, taking in the room. “Mommy?” Her little voice filled the quiet room. “Hey Jazzy, Auntie Nichole had to bring you here. She had an emergency. You’re going to stay with me, Arrow, Zeppy and JJ until your mommy is better.” She looked at Jensen and nodded. “Like a sleepover?” She asked. Jensen smiled softly, “Yeah, sweetie, like a sleepover.”

A few hours later Jensen found himself back at the hospital sitting beside your bed. The nurses would come in and check on you and him. He would tell them he was fine and didn’t need anything when they asked. Finally the doctor came in and Jensen was out of his chair. He extended his hand, “Hello Dr. Fitzpatrick. It’s good to see you this morning. How’s she healing?” Jensen asked as he gestured to you. “Good morning Mr Ackles, she seems to be healing. We are going to draw some blood this morning and do some scans. See if she’s healed enough to start taking her off the sedation medication.” “That sounds perfect, thank you doctor.”

The nurse came in and drew some blood while Jensen watched on. He sent Nichole a text to check on her and let her know what the doctor said. She didn’t respond yet, so he figured she was busy. He hoped the next time he sent her a text it was to let her know you were awake and okay.

Jensen waited in the room for you to return from the tests. A few hours had passed and they were finally bringing you back in. He had been talking to Jared off and on all day. Jensen even called Clif to get some advice on how to keep you and Jazzy protected. 

He was on the phone with Jared when the technician was wheeling you back in. “Yeah, she’s back now. Hang on a sec, Jar.” The tech told Jensen the doctor would review all the tests and be in shortly to go over it. Jensen nodded and thanked him. 

“Well that sounds promising, I hope she’s going to be okay. Are you leaving soon to get the kids?” Jared asked. “Yeah. I’ll leave in about an hour. I hope the doctor is here before then.” “Hey, Jensen, why don’t we bring the kids over and we can all eat dinner and the kids can play together. I think that would be good for Jazmyne and you won’t be alone.” “That sounds great, Jar. What can I do or buy?” “Nothing, Gen and I will take care of everything.” “Okay, thanks brother.” “Yeah, no problem, and if you need us to grab the kids we can.” “Okay, thanks. Talk to you soon.” 

Jensen sat beside your bed, holding your hand. He watched your chest rise and fall, and listened to the steady beep of the machines. Jensen felt drawn to you. It confused but excited him. He’d never felt an instant connection with someone, an instant need to protect them. Like he does with you. Even with his late wife it took him a while to open up. 

There was a soft knock on the door that pulled Jensen out of his thoughts. It was Dr. Fitzpatrick. “Good afternoon Mr. Ackles. So I’ve reviewed her blood work and the scans we took. There isn’t any internal bleeding, no injuries to her brain and her ribs and other broken bones are starting to heal. I don’t see why we can’t start bringing her out of sedation. We can start the process immediately. She still has a long road to recovery, and will need to stay here at least another day or two, but I believe she’s going to be okay.”

Jensen smiled, stood and shook the doctor’s hand. He called Jared and told him what the doctor said, “Jar, I really want to be here. Do you or Gen mind grabbing the kids from school. I’ll call the headmaster and let her know you can get Jazzy too. I really appreciate it man.” “Hey, no problem. I’m glad she’s going to be coming back soon.” “Me too, thanks again Jared.” 

Jensen sent Nichole a text to let her know what the doctor said. She replied that she was excited and to give you her love. 

Jensen sat right beside you as the sedation medication was removed. They told him it could take a few minutes or a few hours for you to start waking up. He nodded and kept watch. 

When you began to stir about an hour later and your eyes started to flutter, Jensen was on the edge of the seat. “Hey, Y/N. That’s right sweetheart, open those eyes for us.” Jensen encouraged. 

Your eyes fluttered open and confusion began to fill you. Your voice was very weak, but you managed to speak. “Jjjensen, what are you doing here?” He stepped closer to you and placed his hand on your shoulder, “Hey, Y/N. I’m so glad you’re awake. You’ve been missed.” “How long have I been out?” “Over a week, but don’t worry Jazzy has been well taken care of. Nichole had a family emergency so I offered to take her. The twins have loved having her at the house.” 

Tears filled your eyes, “Why are you being so kind to us?” “Because that’s what you do when someone needs help.” Jensen smiled gently at you. “So, Y/N, how are you feeling?” “I’m very sore, and just heartbroken. I can’t believe I let him in our lives. My sweet girl had to see some of the abuse. I’m so stupid and weak. I didn’t want to be alone anymore, so I allowed this monster into our lives. How do I keep her safe when I can’t keep myself safe?”

“You tell her that some people are just mean and those people will try and find your weakness. You work like hell to protect yourself, and when you can’t, you lean on those that can. You tell her that there are more kind people in this world than there are mean ones. Those are the people she needs to surround herself with. People like her mother. People who would do anything to keep her safe and protect her from evil. No matter what. Y/N, you’re not weak or stupid for letting someone like Robert in your life. You’re human, and Jazzy will see that. Above all she will see your strength, the strength to make him leave and then fight like hell to survive and stay here for her.” 

Your tears were flowing down your face at Jensen’s words. When he took your hand in his, and wiped away your tears, you leaned into his touch. He was so kind and gentle. Everything you’d heard he was. 

The next few days you had to stay in the hospital were brutal. You’d asked Jensen not to bring Jazzy to see you there. You didn’t want her to see you weak and hooked up to things. He kept her at his house and you got to FaceTime her at night. 

The last night of your hospital stay you were feeling excited to leave, but even more nervous. You’d be going home, and Robert was still out of jail. The police hadn’t been able to track him down and that scared you. Jensen assured you that you and Jazzy would be safe. 

After your FaceTime call with Jazzy, you settled in to try and sleep. Jensen was busy getting all four kids ready for bed. The twins and Jazzy were running around and playing, while JJ was picking out the book for the night. 

After baths, brushed teeth, and pajamas, Jensen had all four kids pile in his bed so he could read. 

After the story was over Zep asked when Y/N was coming home. “Well, she gets to go home tomorrow. I know she’s really excited about it.” “Daddy, since Jazzy lives here now is her mommy coming here too?” Zeppelin asked with his big eyes twinkling. “No, Zeppy. Jazzy doesn’t live here. She’s just been staying here.” All four children’s faces hung in sadness. Jensen chuckled, “Oh come on guys, you knew Jazzy was just staying here while her mommy was getting better.” “We know daddy, but we want her to stay forever.” Arrow added to the conversation. Jensen sighed, “Okay guys, we will talk about this later. It’s time for bed. Come on.” 

The kids got into their beds and fell asleep quickly. Jensen sent you a text.

Jensen: Hey, the kids are asleep, they were upset Jazzy isn’t going to live here forever. 😂

You: Hey, that’s funny. Maybe we can schedule playdates and sleepovers if that’s okay with you. I know Jazzy would love it.

Jensen: I was thinking the same thing. 😀

You: Good. I owe you so much for taking care of her and being here for me.

Jensen: No you don’t. If I was in the same situation I have no doubt you would do the same thing. 

You: Oh absolutely. I adore your children. They are so sweet and kind to Jazzy.

Jensen: I’ve definitely tried. It’s been hard, but I’ve had some great support.

You: That’s amazing. So can I ask you something?

Jensen: Sure

You: If I’m out of line or you’re uncomfortable, just tell me, okay?

Jensen: Of course. 

You: After your wife passed away how long was it until you started dating again?

Jensen: I went on a few dates, I’d say about 2 years after she died. Nothing worked out, but that doesn’t mean I’m not open to it. My focus is on the kids, so if it happens it happens. 

You: I understand that. Robert was the first guy I dated since Josh died. I was scared to let someone in, and now I’m sitting in the hospital because of him. 

Jensen: I get that, but you can’t let him ruin your chance at happiness again. You and Jazzy deserve to be loved and taken care of.

You: Thank you, Jensen. So do you and your beautiful children. 

Jensen: Thank you. I’ll come pick you up from the hospital tomorrow when you get released and take you home if you want me to. 

You: I appreciate that, Jensen. I could always take an Uber to get home.

Jensen: Absolutely not. I’ll pick you up and drive you wherever you want to go. 

You: Okay, well I’ll see you in the morning. Good night, Jensen.

Jensen: See you tomorrow, and good night, Y/N. Sweet dreams.

You: Sweet dreams, Jensen. 

Jensen put his phone down and climbed into bed. He looked down at the little girl sleeping on the makeshift bed and smiled softly. His heart warmed thinking about her and her mother being in his and his children’s lives. The two of you were already starting to mean something to him. He couldn’t shake the feeling, the need to protect both of you, to be with you. 

Jensen laid down and sleep finally washed over him. About 3am he was startled awake by the sound of crying. He leaped out of bed and found Jazmyne crying in her sleep. She woke up, saw Jensen and leaped in his arms. 

Jensen sat on the floor holding her and rubbing her head while he rocked her. “Shhh, Jazzy. It’s okay. You’re safe.” 

Jazmyne’s hands clung to his shirt and her face was buried in his chest. She continued crying and whimpered out “mommy”. Jensen’s heart broke. 

“Mommy’s okay, baby girl. She’s going to come home tomorrow and she can’t wait to see you.” Jazmyne shook her head no. Jensen was a little confused, “What’s no, baby girl?” “I not go home. Mommy not go home. He hurt mommy there.” It made sense to Jensen. She was scared to go back home because that’s where Robert had been when he hurt you. 

“Shh, baby. I promise you I will keep you and mommy safe.” Jensen said as he rocked the scared little girl. She clung to his shirt and wouldn’t let go. He tried to lay her down on her bed and she cried and held on tighter. He stood, holding her close and laid her down on his bed. He grabbed her stuffy and handed it to her, and laid down. As he got comfortable, Jazmyne curled up beside him. Soon her soft snores filled the room. Jensen drifted back to sleep.

The next day after Jensen got the kids to school, he arrived at the hospital to wait for you to be released. “Good morning, sweetheart.” Jensen said as he walked into your room. You looked up, smiled and said, “Good morning to you too. Here to bust me out?” You chuckled. “Absolutely.” Jensen flashed his killer smile. 

The nurse came in not long after Jensen arrived. She unhooked your IV and the cardio machine. “Go ahead and get dressed, and I’ll get your discharge paperwork together.” You nodded and Jensen stepped to the side of the bed. “Let me help you up.” He said offering you his hand.

You took his hand and as you stood, you stumbled and he caught you. Looking up into his eyes your breath hitched and you bit your lip. Feeling your heart beat wildly in your chest. You steadied yourself and thanked him softly. He nodded as you walked into the bathroom.

You looked in the mirror and saw your battered and bruised face and body. Oh my god. Look at me. Get it together Y/N, there is no way that gorgeous man out there could ever look at you in any way other than a friend, especially now. 

You tried to push the thoughts of wanting to kiss Jensen out of your head and get dressed. Your body was in so much pain and covered in bruises, it hurt to even breathe. You wondered how you’d be able to take care of Jazzy, especially with Nichole out of town. You took a deep breath, you knew you’d figure it out. 

About an hour and half later you and Jensen were at your house. You had no idea what you’d find when you got there, but you were surprised to find out that after the police finished with their investigation Nichole came and cleaned up the house for you. 

Jensen helped you to the couch and you sat down. He could tell something was bothering you, but didn’t want to push. Then your tears started to fall. 

Jensen pulled you in his arms, “Shhh, it’s okay. You’re okay. You and Jazzy are safe. I promise. I’ll keep you two safe.” You leaned back and looked at Jensen, his green eyes scanning you. He cupped your face and wiped your tears away. You leaned into his touch. 

Without any thought you leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his lips. When your brain finally caught up to what you were doing you quickly pulled away. Flush filled your cheeks, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry Jensen. I don’t know what came over me.” 

You started to get off the couch but he touched your hand, “No, Y/N, please don’t go. That was fine. You have nothing to be sorry about.” His hand on your arm felt so good. You looked at him, sat back down and apologized again.

“Jensen, you’ve been nothing but kind to me and Jazzy. I’m sorry if I put you in an awkward position. I really don’t know what came over me.” Jensen leaned forward, his eyes flicked between your lips and eyes. You leaned forward until your lips ghosted each other’s. Jensen closed the rest of the distance and kissed you. His hand tangled into your hair as he deepened the kiss. Jensen’s tongue ran across your lips, asking for entrance. You parted your lips and your tongues began an intricate dance of dominance. 

You moaned into the kiss and felt fire ignite in your body. You hadn’t had a kiss like this since Josh. When the need for air became too much, the two of you pulled away. “Wow.” Was all Jensen could say. You smiled and nodded. As he started to lean back in to kiss you there was a knock at the door. 

Jensen groaned and stood to answer it. He looked back at you and smiled before he opened the door. You smiled back, but as soon as he opened the door your smile was replaced by a look of horror. 

Jensen turned to look at the person at the door as you said, “Robert.”

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[yandere-romanticaa]

Honestly I love the idea of dabi gaslighting you into being crazy for him, because it mixed the two camps yandere dabi gets written as, the first being cruel and awful with darling as a plaything, the second being softer with darling as a fragile doll. Personally I think it's a little bit of both, because Dabi is no where near a good man, but the idea he'd completely abuse darling just the way his father did to his mom, seems to hypocritical. Instead framing it like Dabi hates the vulnerability but sorting accepting it hatches a plan where if he can slowly but surely convince you that you are the crazy one, you somehow need him, that you'll need him and that's more stable than love and when he's that insurance he can trust you enough to be softer and all you'll be is grateful. It mixes his love with the awful means he chooses to take it, since he can't be vulnerable enough to trust love but taking it is what a villain can do

I just can't see him as the 100% sadistic bastard which some fics portray him to be. While I do agree that sadism would be a big aspect of his character, there would be times when he would just. Hold you. Cling onto you.

It's weird when it happens for the first time. You've been alone for a few days and then Dabi is home. He kicks off his shoes and wordlessly makes his way towards you. He reeks of ash and blood but you find it difficult to focus on that when you feel the scorching feeling of his arms enveloping your frame.

You still as Dabi gently rests his forehead against the crook of your neck. You feel the staples of his marred flesh against your own as he uncharacteristically inhales your scent.

"...I missed you." he mumbles in a tone so quiet that if he weren't sitting so close you could have sworn that you made it up. As much as he makes fun of you, Dabi loves your fragility. He loves just how easy you are to break but he has the fire power to ensure your safety. The thought makes him giddy like a schoolboy but he's sure not to show it.

His glee would give you an inkling of power over him. He doesn't want that.

As time goes on, it starts becoming hard to judge Dabi properly as a person. You slowly unveil the truth over the ages you spend with him and, to be frank, you are lost at how you ought to see him.

It really is his father's fault for turning out the way he did. The man hardly ever spoke about his feelings but one evening a fuse broke and he told you everything. Your horrified reactions only added more fuel to his hatred as you held him in your arms, by your own volition for once. He proudly boasted how he lost the ability to cry ages ago but the pools of blood leaking out of his eyes told you a different story. The scarlet liquid stained your white t-shirt, the splotches a grave reminder of this evening.

In that moment, you were not speaking to Dabi but rather the lost little boy who could never be good enough. He made your heart swell with all sorts of colorful feelings.

By the time he fell asleep, you were still wide awake, terror running rampant in your heart with the realization that you started to fall for your captor.

And in no time, Dabi picked that fact up. Let me tell you, it made his life so much easier.

Whenever he wanted to prove a point he would just thug at your heartstrings and make you feel like a fool. He has done so much for you, is this how you are going to repay him? Depending on the severity of the fight he might threaten to burn you, but that would be a last resort.

Dabi would like to keep you in one piece, thank you very much.

He is awful and he knows it. But he's just gone too far, he is too attached to you. If you were to ever leave, he would simply go haywire. It has gotten to the point where he needs you like air but you will not have a single clue about that.

The less you know, the better.

[ripdragonbeans]

Through The Worst // modern!Aemond x Reader

Summary: You're reminded just how much Aemond loves you.

TRIGGER WARNING!!! Self injury, in depth description of panic attack, talk of physically abusive family

CW: p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, oral f and m receiving

The starry sky has always been your companion, through the good and the bad. You take a deep breath and smile. You think of all the good in your life, your boyfriend, Aemond. Aemond, the light in your life.

Like him, your family wasn't the most stable place in your life. Fights between your parents were frequent and you had to protect your sister from more than one attempt of violence against her. When it came to you, though? You would gladly endure the pain if it meant your sister was safe.

When your mother left you and your sister with your father it was terrible. If he was angry you and your sister would find another place to spend the night. If you two were caught off guard, you did all you could to prepare yourself for a terrible night. Sometimes it was keeping food away from you, sometimes it was a beating. But it was never too much, or somewhere that could be seen by anyone else. All the hits were strategic, easily being covered by a regular t-shirt.

While your body almost never scarred, as bruises were the only injuries that would mark your skin, scars remained nonetheless. Unfortunately, those were your own doing.

It was never intentional, you would tell yourself. And it was true. Some people would see them and automatically assume that you wanted to die but that wasn't the case. If anything you just wanted to feel something.

Growing up in that household on top of not being at the best school was not a good combination. Classmates were cruel to you, whether you knew it or not. With such a kind heart you gave everyone the benefit of the doubt. Even the guys who dated you as a joke or who just wanted to add you to their body count.

Once you were old enough to get out of the house, you did. You tried to bring your sister with you but she refused. She believed that if she stayed with your father she could help him. You tried everything to convince her not to stay but she wouldn't budge. So you left home without her.

You felt someone lay down next to you in the grass. Immediately you could tell it was Aemond. You gave the sky a small smile before turning over to face him.

“Couldn't sleep?” You asked him.

He shrugged. “I was restless. I know you can't sleep sometimes so I figured I'd check in on you. You weren't in your room so I came out here.”

If you were anywhere else you'd be sharing the same bed but since you were spending the summer with Aemond’s siblings you had your own room. While his mother wasn't around you knew it would be a bit much if she heard her son was sharing a bed with someone, even with them being in college, even with his own girlfriend. So, you stayed in a room, not too far away from Aemond's, but still too far in your own opinion.

You cupped his face with your hand and ran your thumb across his cheek. “You know, I miss you at night sometimes. Even if we've spent the whole day together.”

“I miss you too, my love.” He placed his hand on top of your and kissed your palm.

You closed your eyes, content with his presence. For a while you two just lay there in the grass underneath the night sky until Aemond got up and pulled you up.

“I think it's time for bed. We can sleep in my room tonight,” he whispered.

“Oh, getting rebellious, are we?” You joked.

“No, I just want you to fall asleep in my arms tonight. Is that okay?”

“Of course it's okay.”

A gentle kiss graced the top of your head as the two of you went in for the rest of the night.

That night you slept peacefully wrapped up in Aemond’s arms. When you fell asleep he was there. When you woke up he was there. His soft snoring brought a sweet smile to your face as you brushed his hair back with your hand. His hair was also so neat, you felt somewhat blessed to see it unkept and so…comfortable.

When you saw his eyelids begin to flutter open you peppered his face with kisses.

“Good morning, my love,” you whispered in his ear.

He chuckled. “Don't do that or we may not get out of bed.”

“Do what?” You asked innocently.

He gave you a knowing look. “You know what your whispers do to me.”

“Well maybe I want that, I'm just trying to get you ready.”

“Congratulations, it worked.”

Aemond captured you in a passionate kiss. His hands ran up your body to capture your tits over your shirt. It was a flimsy shirt, but it was still too much. Aemond circled your breasts with his hands, getting closer and closer to your nippes. You whined against him and arched your back to get closer. He took advantage of that and snuck his tongue in your mouth. The feel of him adding more and more. Your hands went to his hair and you pulled him even closer.

Aemond smiled at your eagerness and gave in, running each thumb over a pebbled nub. He had been teasing you so much you felt yourself clench at his touch.

After torturing you like this a few more times, each one causing louder and louder whines, he finally relented and pulled the shirt over your head. Free from the barrier, Aemond dipped his head down to take a bud in his mouth.

“Fuck, Aemond,” you whispered.

You reached down and felt him hard under his briefs. You palmed him as he lifted his hips to meet your hand. He was just as needy as you.

As he switched from one nipple to the other you tugged down his briefs just enough to free him. Hard and red at the tip, you got excited just looking at it.

Aemond released you with a pop before pulling you into another kiss. He was about to slip off your panties when you stopped him.

“I want to taste you first,” you told him.

You skipped his briefs off all while keeping eye contact. His eye never left yours. They widened as you dipped your head down to lick the head. Just that small touch had him buck into you. You gave his head another tiny lick and he groaned.

“Take my cock, my girl. I want to see your face stuffed.”

You gave him a sly smile before taking as much of him as possible all at once. You've done this enough times to be used to the stretch. Of course, you still need to warm up before taking *all* of him.

His precum was salty on your tongue and you loved it. You swirled your tongue over his head while bobbing your own head up and down. Raising your eyes, you could see Aemond gripped the sheets and tried to keep everything in.

You hummed, causing vibrations to go through him as he flung his head back in ecstacy.

“If you don't stop I'm -”

The words spurred you on. Hallowing your cheeks and bobbing faster, you wanted him to spill himself inside you. You wanted to taste him, all of him.

“Fuck!” He spilled into your mouth and you swallowed each drop. You let him go with a pop and crawled over to him.

Aemond brought his hand to your face and wiped away a dribble of his cum that was left on your lip.

“My turn,” he said before flipping the two of you over.

You landed on your back, sprawled over the bed. Aemond gave you a mischievous grin before settling himself between your legs. He hooked an arm over each thigh to keep you from moving away.

“I don't think that's necessary -” you began to say. “Fuck!”

His head was fully between your thighs and he was languidly lapping at your folds. He was slow and deliberate with each flick of his tongue and it drove you mad. He moved his focus to your clit and sucked on it, making you whimper. You pushed your hips up to meet him in a desperate attempt for more. You could feel Aemond smile against you as he sped up his flicks and licks. You were nearing your peak, you could feel yourself tightening but he wasn't going to let you off that easily. He pushed two fingers in, making you groan in surprise and pleasure. He pumped you with his fingers hard and he felt so damn good. Curling his fingers, he found your sweet spot.

“Aemond - Aemond, please, I'm gonna -”

“It's okay, baby. Let go. I want you to soak my hand.”

At his words the building pressure crescendoed into its peak. Blinding white pleasure was all you could see. Pleasure was all you could feel. Aemond didn't stop, he fucked you with his fingers all the way through your orgasm. He didn't stop until your body had stopped shaking. Gently pulling his finger out, he placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I can't wait to fuck you,” he whispered.

“Then why are you waiting?” You taunted.

Aemond growled then quickly flipped you over on your stomach.

“You want to be fucked? I'll fuck you.”

He teased you, playing with your entrance with the tip of his cock. You whimpered and tried to press back into him.

“So desperate for my cock. Don't worry, you'll get what you want.”

You could hear his smile but you didn't care. He was so close and you needed him inside you. In a quick motion, Aemond sheathed himself inside you. That glorious stretch shot through your body. As many times as he's fucked you, you know you'll never get completely used to the size of him and you welcome it gladly.

Relentlessly he pounded into you, each thrust hitting that perfect spot. You loved it when he fucked you like this. It felt so perfect.

His hands gripped your hips to move you in time with him. There would be bruises from how tight he was holding you but it was something you loved.

Soon, a hand was brought around to play with your clit. You writhed against him but it was no use. You orgasm was building and building and the extra stimulation only made it rush to the surface even more.

Aemond pulled you up so you back was flat against his chest.

“Does this feel good, my love? My cock slamming into your pussy?”

“Yes, yes - fuck!”

“I need you to come for me. Can you do that?”

You mumbled out an answer.

“Aw, my baby has gone dumb,” he teased. “Let go. Come for me.”

He brought his other hand up to a breast and pinched a nipple. With a scream and the arch of you back you came undone on his cock. Aemond fucked you through it, chasing his own peak. Soon, he emptied himself inside you and the two of you collapsed on the bed.

You heard a soft laugh.

“I will never get used to that,” he whispered.

“Neither will I.”

He pressed a kiss to the back of your head before pulling himself out. You complained at the emptiness but he was quick to placate you with a warm towel to clean up.

Once the two of you were clean, Aemond gathered you into his arms and held you close.

“I love you, all of you.”

Those were the last words you heard before falling back asleep.

Screaming. All you could hear was screaming. It wasn't anyone around you; it was yourself. You hated this. You absolutely despise yourself when it happens. No control. None.

And you couldn't get it back.

It was nothing, it should've been nothing.

When you woke up you knew something was wrong. Your nightmare shook you and soon you were snowballing into a panic. A panic you couldn't stop.

When you saw that Aemond wasn't asleep next to you, you freaked out at the absence of him. Thoughts poured in from everywhere, being about everything. Maybe you were just a joke to him, just like how all the others used you. Maybe your father showed up to take you back.

You shut your eyes and pulled your knees to your chest. Rocking yourself back and forth, you tried to calm down, but to no avail.

“Aemond,” you whispered, “please come back. Please, please.”

Slowly, you began to dig your fingernails into the sides of your knees. You could feel the indents that were forming and almost wished to break skin and draw blood. Drawing blood was the only way you could feel something. Only then was the pain enough to even feel a hint of something.

You took your nails and drew them back and forth. Soon, you created a groove in your skin. You moved faster. You were desperate. You needed to feel something now or you were going to scream. While you continued to scratch you absentmindedly began to hit the back of your head on the headboard.

Two things now.

You could almost feel two things.

Looking down at your leg you saw that you broke skin. You couldn't help but smile at your achievement, sick as it was, horrible as it was; but you didn't care.

Feel. All you need it to feel.

Your snowballing thoughts soon turned into memories.

A group of girls laughing at you in the hallway.

Your first boyfriend telling you it was all a joke.

Finding another boyfriend making out with someone else.

The first time you slept with someone, thinking they cared but later laughed in your face when you asked what happens next.

Your father getting more and more aggressive as he steps closer to you.

The fear in your sister’s eyes as you take the blame.

Your father’s fist flying into your gut.

Your sister. Choosing your father over you.

It was too much. Your fingernails and the headboard were not enough for you to feel. You needed something more. You hated yourself for thinking this way but it was the only comfort you had then and the comfort you go to now.

Aemond still wasn't back. You tried to hold on for him. You knew he was coming back even if your jumbled mind told you otherwise.

“I'm so sorry,” you whispered as tears fell.

There was nothing you could do to make yourself stop. Instead, you got up, wrapped a blanket around yourself, and began looking for something, anything, that was a little sharp.

Keys. Aemond’s keys. Your eyes widened when you found them and you were quick to grab them off the dresser. Taking them in your hand, you began to scratch yourself back and forth. You were beginning to feel more and it was ecstasy. Tears tumbled down your cheeks as you let out a dry laugh. You were so focused on what you were finally feeling that you didn't hear the door open. Or hear him come behind you.

Aemond placed his hand on top of yours to stop the scratching.

“Take a breath, love.”

You stopped scratching but you were now shaking. You could barely get the words out. “Too much, Aemond. I'm so sorry.”

“There's nothing to be sorry for.”

He opened your hand and got you to drop the keys into his own. You stood there, frozen, as he put it away. He came up to you and put your hands in his.

“What happened?” He was concerned and his head was racing but his face remained soft.

“I…I don't know. I woke up, you weren't here, and I just started spiraling.”

“You had a panic attack because I wasn't next to you when you woke up?”

“No! It's not your fault!” Tears began to well up once again. “It's my head, it's my father, it's all those people in my life. They haunt me, Aemond. I've tried to erase them but whenever I get a little scared it all hits me again.”

You began to pull away from him and he let you, giving you the space to think and breathe. You bring yourself back to the bed and curl up.

“I love you, Aemond. I do. And I'm so, so sorry I'm like this. I hate it. I hate my head. I hate my father. I hate my ex’s. Hell, even to an extent I hate my sister for choosing our father over me. Everything hurts me and I hate it!”

Silence.

“Please say something,” you whisper.

Aemond sat himself down on the bed. “May I hold your hand?”

You nod and let him take your hand in his.

“No one's ever going to hurt you again. I promise you that on everything I believe in.” He brought your knuckles up to his lips and gently kissed them. “As long as I'm with you, I swear.”

You closed your eyes and finally took a deep breath. “It's so much and I wish it wasn't. I've been working so hard it all crashed.”

“And that's okay, love. No matter what, I will be next to you.”

You pushed yourself closer to Aemond, seeking his warmth. Once you were close enough, he wrapped you in his arms and kissed the top of your head.

“We'll stay in here all day if you want. Just us,” he offered.

“Just us,” you echoed. As blissful as that thought was, you shook it off. “No, we should go out. I think I need to go somewhere else.”

“The park then? Or we can watch a movie?”

You cocked your head in thought. “Let's go for a walk, Aemond. I need to see the world again.”

“My love, I'll give you the world if you ask.” He tilted your head up and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. While there was no heat, there was still passion.

Passion, and the promise of undying protection and love.