Mafia BTS Wip!

Mafia BTS wip!

So I have no clue if anyone is even into BTS Mafia fics anymore, but here I am about to post. Its been a while since I’ve written, I had to defrost a bit but I do hope you enjoy this snippet 

The first  300ish words of Chapter one. 

{The way the boys found their way into the business and your life was by pure consequence, one they would be forever grateful they had to face.

Namjoon was 15, His Father had fallen ill, and had been ill for probably some. time, Joon wouldn't have known or remembered, he barley remembered his fathers face he saw him so little. What Namjoon does remember, is the chaos that seemed to surround everything, and the confusion that swallowed him whole.  He remembers the look on his mothers face as she would look at him, before plastering a fake smile on her face before he could notice.{ he always did.} It had somehow always felt like they were making decision without him, something lifechanging, something he was being completely left out of.

The RM family business had been going on long before Namjoon was even a thought, And when Namjoon did finally come around he was kept as far away from it as possible. His father was present, but also busy. Lots of “meetings” that his father would return from looking a mess, bloody and beaten, leaving a trail of blood to be found in the morning. Lots of trips they {his mother and father} would take leaving him to be watched by the caretakers, the sudden home schooling when he finished elementary, his sudden lack of friends. Joon thinks about this often, about how silly he was to not see it sooner. That he and his family were deep into the mafia, That he was a fucking heir to a fucking throne. 

When he thinks back to it now, the day his father died was one he would never forget. Not because he missed his father, no, he never got to see him on that day.  Because that was the day everything was passed on to him. The family duties, the money, the debts. All of them were his now. The day he came up with His own signature, and his very own nickname, they. his family, would never call him Namjoon again, he was RM now.}

Please PLEASE- let me know what you think, I love mafia AU’s and they say write what you wanna see. 

If you guys have any requests they are open!, I can write for BTS but I write for a ton of other things as well so please check my pinned for more info! 

sleeping on katsuki while he works!

katsuki liked to jump the gun on a lot of assignments, he’s not a slacker. so when aizawa announced a final assignment before graduation, you bet your ass he was going to finish it the day it was announced.

he locked himself in his room after school, even though you were whining that you wanted to spend time with him.

the next time you saw him was dinner, he came downstairs to eat with you before heading back up to his room.

“bye, sweets. ‘m gonna go back to work.” he kissed your cheek.

“wait!” you ran up to him and held his hand.

“can i sit in your bed until you’re done? wanna sleep in your room.”

he thought about it.

“alright. if you make a bunch of noise you’re getting fuckin kicked out.”

“deal!”

the two of you walked to his dorm, hand and hand. as you entered his room you ran and jumped on his bed, getting comfy in the sheets with your phone.

“if you’re going to watch something with sound, use my headphones, kay?” he went to sit in his desk chair.

“okay.” you said, grabbing his headphones from his nightstand.

he worked for a couple more hours, driven by his motivation to be the best.

you we’re getting sleepy though and wanted him to hold you. you didn’t think he’d work for this long.

katsuki assumed you were already asleep, surprised at the lack of noise coming from his bed.

you took his headphones off and stood from the bed, walking to him.

you ran your fingers through his hair and he looked at you. your eyes were drooping and your movements were sluggish.

“hey, baby. why are you still awake?” he questioned.

“i wanna sleep with you katsuki. how much longer are you going to work for?” you say, rubbing your eyes.

“i still have a couple more hours of work in me.”

you whine and he runs his fingers against your cheek.

“can i sit with you? miss you.” you lean into his touch.

“yeah, come on.” he turns his chair towards you, hands grabbing under your shoulders and lifting you into his lap, guiding your legs through the arm rests.

now you sit chest to chest with him, cuddling into his form.

‘well this is distracting..’ katsuki thinks, but he can’t help not caring. he wanted to be with you too.

he forces himself to continue working, determined to finish this assignment by tonight.

as he works he occasionally presses sweet kisses to your temple, caresses your cheek and slips his big hand under your shirt to trace your spine.

there’s a portion of the assignment that requires him to watch a video, so he opens the video and is met with a full blast intro from some stupid sidekick.

he jumps and pauses the video, his eyes wide and glued to you.

you whine, trying to hide your face in the comfort of your boyfriends neck.

“i know, sweet girl, ‘m sorry.” he kisses your cheeks.

“just go back to sleep, yeah?”

you blink the sleep out of your eyes, it’s late.

“kats, why are you working so late? can we go to bed now?” you ask sweetly.

he threads his fingers through your hair.

“i’m on the last part, just 20 minutes.” he reasons.

you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, lips moving in tandem and he groans softly.

“don’t overwork yourself, it’ll still be here tomorrow.” you drag your hands down his arms soothingly.

“come to bed.” you say into his jaw before pressing a kiss to it.

“fine, let’s go to bed.” he gives in and you smile into his skin, kissing it again.

he surprises you by standing with you still wrapped in his arms.

he propels the two of you onto his bed with a jump. you squeal, hiding your face in his neck.

“katsuki!” he laughs.

the two of you land with him under you to cushion your fall.

once your heart rate returns to normal after the scare he gave you, you wrap your arms around him and press your cheek to his chest.

the moment gets cut short and your heart rate spikes once again when you hear a knock at the door. eyes wide and looking at each other, the silent question stains the air…

‘is that aizawa?!’

you’d be expelled on the spot if the two of you were caught in katsukis room alone. the two of you decide to just stay silent in hopes of him giving up and walking away.

“yo bakugou!!” you hear a whisper-shout followed by more knocks.

katsuki groans and you laugh, getting up and walking to the door.

“hi kiri.” you say as you open it.

“hey yn! can i sleep on the beanbag tonight? i just watched the scariest movie ever made.”

“no!” katsuki shouts from his place in bed.

“yes, you can.” you say, sending a half assed glare to katsuki.

kirishima grins.

“thanks yn! you’re the greatest.” he says while running and jumping onto the massive beanbag in the corner of katsukis room.

you sigh sleepily and walk to katsuki, climbing into bed with him. he turns towards the wall and you accept it, he’s probably worried about showing pda. you end up turning away from him too, moving your foot back to rub against his calf affectionately.

“guys, you know ive seen you act lovey dovey before right? i’ll turn away so you guys can cuddle.” kirishima smiles.

“don’t worry about it kiri-“ you start.

“fine. do it then.” katsuki says, rolling over. he didn’t stop working for nothing! he wants to hold you!

kirishima grins at you before turning away.

you turn to look at your boyfriend. he presses his face into your neck and inhales. shifting to wrap his arm around your waist and put his other arm under your head as a pillow. he pulls you close to his chest. you look up at him and lift your hand from underneath the duvet to stroke at his cheek.

“i love you.” you whisper, quiet as a mouse as to not disturb kirishima.

katsuki grunts in response. you know he means ‘i love you too’ though, he’s just not ready to say it in front of kirishima.

“i love you guys too!” you hear from the beanbag in the corner and you laugh while katsuki grumbles about his friend, still hidden in your neck. he’s breathing deeply, trying to get every drop of the perfume you wear that wore of during the day. he can smell your lotion and the shampoo you use. he thinks he’s never smelt anything as good as you.

he kisses your neck before drifting off into a deep sleep, still tired from the hours of schoolwork he did.

The Bird Cage

Mafia!Jimin x Reader

Warnings:  Blood, Guns, Knives, Smut, Smoking (Cigarettes), Excessive Cursing, Drinking, Character Death

“Hi.” He says again, you feel a smack at your back and you groan tucking your bottom lip between your teeth as the pain radiates throughout your body. You inhale through your nose as Jimin narrows his eyes at the presence behind you. 

“Hi.” You whisper through gritted teeth. He smiles widely, his eyes disappearing as his whole face changes. He tilts his head before chuckling. 

“Feisty?” He asks Hyungkwon behind you.

“Didn’t really put up a fight, she knew what was coming when she didn’t pay up.” The man hums in amusement. 

“What do you say, kitten? Wanna come home with me?” 

You don’t reply dropping your eyes to his shoes. Just be quiet and maybe he will go away. He’s dangerous, you could feel it in your heart and in your brain. The two for once agreeing on something. You intertwine your fingers as you press your sweaty palms together. The man looks you over before looking at Hyungkwon and nodding. His hand wraps around your wrist and you look up at him uneasily. 

“I’m Jimin. You’ll be coming with me.”

Chapters as follows:

1. 

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

7.

8.

9.

10.

11.

12.

13.

14.

15.

16.

17.

18.

19.

20.

21.

22.

23.

24.

25.

26.

27.

28.

29.

Drabbles:

Happy Mother’s Day, Kitten

Sequel Book: The Lions Den

cant stop thinking about rich bf sukuna please do a headcanon or scenario

rich boyfriend sukuna . . .

ryomen sukuna who loves you way too much at least you think so. sukuna's love is sometimes too overwhelming.  way too much to be exact. It merely gets out of control; it's not always a terrible thing.

you certainly heard him almost sounding offended as he questioned, "are you suggesting i'm... too much?" you warned him just five minutes ago that you think he's over spending money for you.

you urged him to not be offend by your words "it's not a terrible thing! i promise! i adore that you give me gifts, it's just a little too much baby."

ryomen sukuna who's love language is giving. If he doesn't purchase you at least one expensive item each week, he feels like a bad boyfriend. clothing, shoes, or cosmetics. if he can afford it, what's the reason to not buy shit for his lovely doll.

on the week of your 23rd birthday. he purchased a porsche 918 spyder for you. only for his adorable girlfriend. some feel it's unjust. even you believe it to be unfair. did I mention that you lack proper driving knowledge?

you exclaim in shock, "kuna' I don't even know how to drive babe!" he mischievously grins, "are you hinting that you need driving lessons from your sweet boyfriend, pretty?" he asks slyly. 

"I mean . . . you don't need to teach me I can take driving lessons from someone else."

he scoff, "eh? who'll teach you, your friend who's a professional driver?" continuing, "not gonna have somebody sit with you the entire day teaching you about steps and directions, seen how that guy just looks at your ass bouncing once you walk away."

simply put, you don't want to burden him. you don't want it at all.

"i don't want to put too much on your shoulders, you obviously do too much for me already"

he openly laughs, "baby, shush, don't care about those silly dumb thoughts of yours. you know better than to think that right?"

"besides, i've heard that car sex is amazing."

ryomen sukuna who takes you overseas on your anniversary. the last time, he brought you to paris. posting only pictures of you in his social medias. he likes to let everyone know that you to are together. even if he doesn't particularly enjoy publicity. he sometimes takes you to dates with his friends. he likes to boast about having the most attractive girlfriend out of all of them.

ryomen sukuna who rarely gets angry. piss at others, but never at you ever at you. sukuna once lost his temper at a business party, and as a result, he rarely, almost never, takes you with him to gatherings like one.

"one more time this moron looks at your tits, im punching him." he whispers in you ear for you only to hear, "huh?" you cluelessly asked.

"look at this old pervert keep looking. annoying the shit out of me."

you take a second to look at the middle age man sharing the table with you and sukuna who now is talking to some other business man if you assume.

"he looked?"

"he looked."

sukuna scorns at the man. he hates it. h e dislikes it a lot. s s much as he admires his girlfriend's beauty, he despises the way perverted men view he.

he keeps whispering mocking the guy, "should I knock your pussy out in front of him to show him that he doesn't have the right to look? or should I poke both of his eye with this fork?" sukuna jokes only for you to laugh at his notion.

the best thing to do is probably to ignore him, "let's just leave, baby," you say as opposed to further indulging sukuna's anger.

ryomen sukuna who hates when you guys are apart from each other. it really is a horrible nightmare for him. sukuna just thinks it's too boring without you. 

he wanted you to move in with him even in the early stages of your relationship. he really is down-bad. h e argues that if you stay with him the majority of the time, having an apartment is pointless. If you give it some thinking, it's not wrong; it's just that moving in is too quick of a decision. eventually after a few more of sukuna's whining you moved in.

though he's always away he makes his presence known by sending you flowers on the days that he's gone. And when he comes back, he will have the most infamously expensive gift for you.

ryomen sukuna who hardly ever opposes you. he genuinely hates it. w hen you did quarrel and he felt that he was wrong, he patches things up by giving you a sweet night where you could do whatever you wanted.  oh, and gifts again aren't forgotten of course. sukuna might have even spent more money on you than on himself. t o his credit, what seems to be his is also yours.

ryomen sukuna who thinks that his love is made to give to you. you often joke about him being your sugar daddy, he laughs along thinking it's funny too. you can't do anything about it. it's sukuna's happiness. for sukuna that's all he can think that love is. he's not vain, he knows that he's not keen to relationships, the man just loves you as he is. so be his good girl and accept all the love he gives you, won't you? 

"baby, do you mind taking birth control? i'll pay for it."

this has been sitting for a while, so happy i finally finished it 😭

Hi! I saw that your requests are open, if it's ok and within your rules, I can ask, Aemond being obsessed with his half sister (daughter of Aemma and Viserys), who defended him after the Driftmark incident, along with Alicent

Aemond Targaryen being obsessed with his half-sister would include:

A/N: I feel horned to wright you ask, my dear anon! I'm deeply sorry, I think maybe run a little out the topic, but nevertheless, I hope you enjoy it! Also, PLEASE, READ THE WARNINGS!

SUMMARY: the journey of Aemond Targaryen, trying to have a taste of the forbidden fruit: his own half sister.

WR: f!reader, reader has long hair, violence, murderer, fire, mentions of groping, non-con groping, Aemond being Aemond. Once again, PLEASE, READ THE WARNINGS!

WORDS: +4.2k

Being the second daughter of Viserys and Aemma meant getting the utmost care and affection from your dear father, the king.

Also meaning being completely despised by your older sister’s ex best friend, Alicent, now Queen of the seven kingdoms.

Alicent done everything to make sure her kids hated the blacks as much as she did, poisoning their minds with paranoias and conspiracy thoughts; however, none of this seemed to change the mind of her second son, Aemond.

Being considerably older than him, you, Rhaenyra’s younger sister, were the prince’s object of affection, much to his mother distaste.

You’ve always thought how cute your half-little-brother clung to you at every royal event or sought your presence at the Red Keep.

Since he was just a kid, you couldn’t help but indulge on his clingy tendencies.

Without fail, Aemond always ran to your comfort when he was feeling too overwhelmed by Aegon’s bullying, burying his face on the space between your shoulder and neck.

You would calmly soothe him down, rubbing his back and lightly rocking him side to side.

However, time proved to be harsh, making you face a cruel dilemma.

It was night at Driftmark, everyone were supposed to be sleeping, yet, the shouts put everyone on their feet, looking for the commotion.

You slammed the doors open, facing little Aemond being stitched up by the maester.

You gasped, horrified, running to his side, but you were violently shoved by Alicent, who were throwing daggers with her fiercely gaze.

“You, stay away from my son!” you wobbled a few steps back. Aemond seeing this, got up from his chair, yelling at his own mother, but unfortunately got even more hurt in the processes by the pinching of the needle.

“Sweetheart, calm down, I’m here—“ “Don’t touch me!” Aemond shout out, slapping his mother’s hand away from him.

Viserys, trying to keep the situation under control, asked to Alicent to let you pass, which she complied with resistance.

Seeing her son immediately hugging your waist while rubbing his cheek on the fabric of your nightgown, made her bitter. This was supposed to be her job, giving comfort to her son on this difficult situation; not her rival’s sister.

After all the commotion and Rhaenyra being stabbed by Alicent, you were tasked to stay with Aemond on the nursery, again, by the prince’s begging and to his mother distaste. One more time, Alicent felt rejected by her own son.

Her only wish were to let Ser Cole stay with you at her son’s bed, fearing that Rhaenyra, who were sleeping at the nursery as well, attempted against the prince’s life.

Now at the ward, with a damp cloth, you cleaned the caked blood on Aemond’s hair. Brushing your fingers through his locks, you said “Some day, you will have the most beautiful silver hair of the kingdom.”

“Do you like… my hair?” the now one eyed prince asked, thanking the gods the lights weren’t strong enough to show his flaming cheeks.

You laughed, delighted by his cuteness “Of course I like, silly! Unfortunately, you’ll have to take a lot of baths to wash away the reddish stains.”

Aemond took a mental note to never cut his hair ever again.

“May I ask you something?”

With a gentle smile, you agreed “Of course!”

“Why did you defend me? Why didn’t you defended your nephews?”

You took a moment to pick the most appropriated words “Even though I’m very disappointed at your words, I would never wish any harm to come for any of you.”

Sensing the drop of your mood, the prince asked what happened. Sighing, you explained “Me and my sister will leave the Red Keep, Aemond.”

The little prince’s life turned upside down. Widening his only eye, he begged for an explanation, trying to cover his wobbly voice.

“Me and my sister talked and we decided that Red Keep is no longer safe for us.” “What do you mean?! I have Vaghar! The biggest dragon in the seven kingdoms! I can protect you!” he fisted your arms, as if you were going to vanish in front of him.

You lightly chuckled, petting his cheek “I appreciate your efforts, my brave prince, but our family is in the verge of a war. Leaving and letting things calm down is the best decision for now.”

“But…I don’t want you to leave! Take me with you, if needed, but please, don’t leave me alone!” now full crying, he caged you on his frail embrace, sobbing uncontrollably.

Returning his hug, you brought him to your lap, taking extra care to not touch his fresh wound “My little prince, you know I can’t bring you with me, your mother would kill me. It do hurt me to separate from you, but you must understand that there’s no other way. Besides, there’s nothing stoping me from visiting you or sending you ravens!”

Aemond stoped crying, now just enjoying your warm embrace as long as he could “But it won’t be the same…” “I know, my love, but it’s just a provisional measure. I’ll reunite with you sooner or later.” You said finally, kissing him gently on the top of his head.

The next morning, everyone prepared for your sudden departure. Rhaenyra informed you it would be better if you leaved as soon as possible, which Aemond strongly disagreed.

Out of the castle, your dragons waited for you, already equipped with everyone of your belongings. Turning to say good bye to your favorite prince, you and Aemond shared a hug; obviously with everything monitored by Alicent.

Seeing you flying away shattered his heart in a billion pieces. It felt like he couldn’t breath, as if a hole opened up on his chest. He felt lonely. Never wanting to feel this way ever again, Aemond promised that the next time he saw you, he wouldn’t let you go.

The years passed. Every single day, religiously, Aemond wrote you a letter, informing you of everything he did or planned to do in the day.

You happily read all of his letters, glad to know that the young boy was not as depressed as you thought he would be due to your departure.

So, as fast as you could, you wrote him back as eager as him, alway commenting something he told on his own letters, just so he knew you read and payed attention to every single word he draw on the paper.

But, after a few months, Aemond stopped receiving your letters. It came to a point where he would spend all day pestering the servants interrogating the whereabouts of your letters.

Completing a whole month of no news about you, Aemond snapped. He destroyed his bed chambers, breaking the furniture, slashing the curtains and ripping his book off the shelves.

Ser Cole and Harold were sent to contain the enraged prince, who kept screaming and kicking, while the Queen tried to reason with her son.

When the prince stopped slashing around and started to cry, Alicent cocooned him on her lap, “She promised” he murmured between sobs “she promised she’d never leave me…”

Years passed. Daemon and Rhaenyra, now husband and wife, travelled to King’s Landing to defend Jacaerys and Lucerys right to the iron and driftwood throne. Not passing this opportunity, you flied along with them to the Red Keep.

It’s been a long time since you received a letter from your favorite little-half-brother. You were a little hurt at the beginning, but then you started to be a little reasonable: maybe he was busy with Vaghar or his training. So, you opted to send Alicent letters asking for permission to visit her son. Unfortunately, you never got a response.

After the coldly reception of Alicent and Otto, you accompanied your two nephews to the training grounds.

Immediately, you spotted a man with wide shoulders and a beautifully long silver hair cascading his broad back. He was sparring against Ser Cole, your sister’s late knight.

Making Criston surrender, applauses erupted from the grounds. “Well done, my Prince.” congratulated the knight, still panting “You’ll be winning tourneys in no time.”

“I don’t give a shit about tourneys” he dismissed Criston’s flattery “Nephews, have you come to train?”

Aemond turned to Lucerys and Jacaerys, but he was caught by surprise when his eye landed on you.

Ethereal as ever, your now longer hair was braided expertly on a beautiful bun, assenting your features. The heart of the one eyed prince beat uncontrollably inside his chest.

Sensing his eyes upon you, you greeted him “My prince, it’s been a while.”

Aemond, not knowing how to carry with the conversation, agreed “Yes, it’s been, my dear half-sister.”

Seeing the interaction between the royal family, the crowd started to dissipate. Jacaerys e Lucerys left the training grounds as well, glad that the prince’s attention was not on them anymore.

Now all alone, you approached the eye-patched prince “Can we talk?” not taking no as an answer, you locked your hands on his arm, making Aemond get stiff.

So many years has passed, but you still caused him the same effect. Silently, the prince enjoyed the innocent contact, loving the felling of your torso rubbing against his toned arm.

“Long ago, you stopped sending me letters. Why?” you asked, bluntly.

“You never answered them, so I stopped writing.”

Stopping in your tracks, looking straight into his eye “The few that I received, I answered them right away. But suddenly, you stopped writing. Why?”

Scoffing, the prince replied “As I said before, my dear half-sister, you stopped writing, so did I.”

“I never stopped trying to reach you out, Aemond. I even sent your mother a raven, but she said you did not want to see me. So I ask again, my dear prince, why did you put me on arms length?”

Immediately, something clicked inside the Targaryen’s prince head. Obviously it was the doings of his own mother; she never liked you in the first place. But Aemond thought that, at least, after the incident at Driftmark, Alicent would warm up to you, but apparently, he thought wrong.

His blood started to boil. How dare his mother try to stay in the way between you two? His nostrils flared up; he locked his jaw tightly, gritting his teeth.

Feeling your soft hand, now smaller than his, interlocking your fingers pulled him away from his enraged state “Aemond, what—“ “I’m really sorry about this misunderstanding.” he apologized, engaging a hug.

Got by surprise, you hesitantly put your hands on his back, slowly giving into his embrace.

Aemond finally felt at peace. Feeling your hands around him and how his toned arms circled your waist, almost made him forget of his rage against his mother, almost. Sniffing your scent for the last time, the prince left you, promising to talk and explain everything to you after he was done with his business.

Dropping his reassuring smile, the prince stormed into the keep, going straight to his mother’s bed chambers.

Not even greeting Ser Cole, Aemond locked the doors as soon as he passed through them, only listening to the knight’s knocking.

Hearing all the commotion, Alicent beelined to her living room, facing her second son “Aemond? What are you doing here? You can’t enter my bed chambers like that, what if—“ “Spear me from your lecture, mother.”

Feeling shocked by her son’s harsh words, she continued “And this is how you speak to your mother? Your queen?”

Aemond smirked, mockingly. Suddenly, the young man caught his mother by her throat, lightly lifting her from the floor, letting her balance herself on her tiptoes “Don’t pull the ‘your Queen’ card right now, mother. If you haven’t noticed, my patience is running thin.”

Alicent fisted her son’s wrist, trying to sooth his grip. Seeing that he not even bulged, she cried out “Aemond, plea—“ “As I said before, my patience is ending. I’ll give you one chance, and believe me when I say few got this benefit: did you barred my half-sister’s letters?”

The queen’s eyes winded, but she stayed silent, probably paralyzed by fear. Seeing her state, Aemond did not needed a verbal answer: just looking at her gave away her guiltiness.

He let her break free, making Alicent instantly tear to the ground, coughing and gasping for air, uncontrollably.

Aemond’s jaw was tightly shut. Feeling betrayed by his own mother, he started to rant “You knew how important she was to me, and still, you deprived me of seeing her and did not even let me get news from her! You left me in the dark, and you saw how it was killing me, but even so, you did nothing!”

The prince’s voice escalated along with his rage, which was increasing with time. Feeling the need to take his anger on something, he threw the coffe table against the wall, making the Queen gasp in horror.

“Aemond,” she tried to reason with her son “I did this only to protect you! I thrust her as much as you do, but you must understand that the circumstances—“ “Don’t you dare lie to me again!” he slammed his hands on another table “Admit you were jealous of her, of her proximity to me. You always despised her, there’s no need to lie!”

Rilling up as well, Alicent exploded “Of course I always hated her! She’s Rhaenyra’s sister, Aemond! She would do anything to help her kin! To stole your brother’s throne!” with tear cascading her cheeks, she continued, approaching her son “And of course I was jealous, Aemond! You’re my son! Mine! But you never ran up to me when you were sad, hurt or happy! It was always her! Even at Driftmark, when her own nephew stabbed your eye, you ran up to her! You didn’t even let me accompany you at the nursery! And—“

Sobs interrupted her speech. But now that she started to talk, she was not going to back off “Do you think she genuinely loves you, Aemond? Like I do?”

The prince looked at her with warning eye “Watch your tongue.”

Feeling bold, Alicent continued, not listening to her son’s threat, facing him fearlessly “Don’t you ever thought that, maybe, she just treated you well to do this? Put you against me? Your own mother? Don’t you ever thought that she’s as cruel, manipulative and a whore as much as her—“ “Don’t you dare talk about her like that!”

Aemond pounced on her mother, now fully strangling her. His knuckles were white with his bruising grip, eye completely fogged by hatred. His nostrils was flaring up, teeth gritting madly.

With the little oxygen that lasted on her lungs, Alicent was able to call out to Ser Criston Cole, who immediately opened the doors, running to save the Queen.

Along with the knight were Otto Hightower, who coincidentally were passing by his daughter’s corridor.

“What in the seven hells happened here?” the hand lord exasperated, demanding an answer.

“We had a heated discussion, father” Alicent explained with her voice sore due to her son’s strangulation.

Sensing he wouldn’t get no more details about the incident, Otto coughed, as if putting an end to the matter “I was going to remind you of tonight’s dinner, which begins on a few minutes. Our king decided to attend it, so I was going to ask my Queen to ask her children to be on their best behavior.” Otto gave Aemond a meaningful look.

“I don’t care what this discussion was about. What matters is that this behavior can’t happen again during the dinner. Are we clear?” Alicent silently nodded, while Aemond stayed motionless by his grandfather speech.

Later, the whole house Targaryen sat at the fancy dining room. An uncomfortable silence dominated the group, tension so thick it could be cut by a knife.

King Viserys, as usual, tried to reason with his family that was bound to break in two, yet only he denied to see the truth “With that being said,” the sick king, with the help of his loyal wife, stayed up “me and my dear second daughter discussed and agreed that, in the name of peace, she shall be betrothed to her half-brother, Aegon Targaryen.”

Aemond’s heart stopped beating. The whole time, his infuriated gaze was directed to his mother, who would avert her own with all of her might; but now, he gazed incredulously to his father. He didn’t even notice when he stood up from his chair, flying to his mother’s throat.

Caos broke loose in the room. The king was immediately withdrawn from the scene, leaving Daemon alongside the others guards to separate the infuriated prince from the Queen.

On the other side of the chamber, you saw how animalisticly your dear little half-brother acted. He was no longer that sweet boy that easily cried with his older brother’s bullying: now he was a man, and a very dangerous one.

You cried hopelessly: how things take a turn like that? You thought that agreeing to the betrothal, you could finally reunite your family, but instead, here you are, seeing who was once your favorite person in the world trying to kill his own mother.

Even though Aemond were the best swordsman on the realm, he were not able to defeat Daemon and all of the Keep’s guards. “Lead the Prince to the dungeon. Tomorrow morning we will discuss with the small council what shall be decided of the prince’s future.” as Otto commanded, the guards escorted Aemond, who was now unconscious.

You offered yourself to accompany Alicent to the nursery to check upon her bruised throat. As expected, Ser Cole went along, only a few feet away from you.

“I’m so sorry with what happened, my Queen.” you morned, while helping Alicent walk through the hallway “I know prince Aemond since he was just a little kid. I would never expect such a horrifying act from him. It seems like I don’t even know him anymore.”

Moaning in pain, Alicent commented “I think both of us never truly knew him.”

Getting to the nursery, seeing the state of their Queen, the maids promptly took and laid her on a bed reserved to the royal family.

Staying by her side, she started to softly cry “I never should have tried to stay between you two, you know?”

Trying to stop her crying, you gently brushed her messed hair out of her face “Shhh… I must confess I don’t know what you are talking about, my Queen, but you shouldn’t be blaming yourself for what happened.”

Giving you a saddened smile, Queen Alicent continued to apologize “I appreciate your kind words, my dear, but I do have a portion of guilt on Aemond’s behavior.”

Gulping, you finally asked “If I may ask you: what could you have done to make him have such a reaction, my Queen?”

Seeing your confused eyes and caring acts, she confessed “I barred all of your letters to prince Aemond, and I also lied about him not wanting to see you.” your heart clenched, but still continued to sooth her hair down.

“And why would you do that? What would you gain from it?”

Alicent nipped her lips “I was afraid and jealous. My paranoia took over me. I was convinced that you were only being nice with my son just to destroy my family. Also, I’ve always envied how close you two were. Aemond never loved me like he loves you.”

“Nonsense, my Queen. Aemond always told me how he wished to make you proud. That’s why he’s so dedicated.” you brushed her off, with a little giggle.

“Well, it can also be true, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he tried his best just to impress you, my dear. My son’s crush on you didn’t go unnoticed by me back in the days.” she too giggled, remembering how flustered the boy got when others brought you up. Obviously, back than she disapproved vehemently, but seeing how caring you are, Alicent couldn’t blame his son for falling for you.

“You are so gentle and caring, I don’t blame my son for falling for you.” she looked straight into your eyes “I’m sorry for making things come to this point. If I never have felt insecure and suspicious of you, things would may be different.” she sobbed once again, feeling regret consuming her soul.

“Don’t blame yourself, my Queen. You did what you thought was right to protect your son.” you embraced her, like you used to embrace Aemond. Feeling her tears stain your dress, you let Alicent pour her heart out.

Calming a little, she sat up, encasing your hands between hers “Now that I know your genuine feelings, I must apologize for misjudging you. Yet, now that I know my son’s true colors, I’m afraid I’ve put you in danger my dear. I don’t want my son to rot on a cell, but my heart wouldn’t bear to bring you anymore harm.”

Your reassuring smile faltered. If Aemond was able to hurt his own mother, you feared what he could do to you. But even so, a part of you still believed he would never touch you.

Cupping your cheeks, Alicent continued “Now, listen to me, dear. It’s clear that Aemond is completely obsessed with you, and he won’t stop until he gets what he wants. We must take this opportunity, and send you as far as we can!”

You looked perplexed at her “Wait, but what about my betrothal? And my family? You?! What makes you so confident that Aemond won’t go after you for answers?”

Grunting in frustration, Alicent still insisted “We and the council will figure something out. Please, let me help you scape, as a form of apologizing for all the caos I brought to you.”

With the Queen’s begging, you couldn’t help but agree with her plan. Unfortunately, your conspiracy plans was cut short due to the shouts coming outside the nursery.

“Fire!”

Smelling the scent of smoke, you looked terrified at the Queen who ordered “Fast, we must reach the outside!”

Throwing her arm o your shoulders, you and Queen Alicent stumbled through the flaming hallways, crumbling with the fire.

Finally reaching the gardens, you could breath properly, coughing out the smoke off of your lungs. Once again, your feelings of security was throw out the window when you heard a loud roar.

Immediately, Vaghar stomped on the Keep’s wreckages, spitting fire at the only way out of the garden.

“Shit.” Alicent cussed, trying to stand up doing to the impact of Vaghar’s landing “We are cornered!”

Feeling despair pumping on your veins, you tried to run anywhere, getting the Queen’s wrist.

However, sensing her stillness, you turned back, facing Alicent being impaled by Aemond’s sword.

Letting out a gasp of horror, you let go of her wrist, trying to run away, but you stumbled, falling to the floor.

Retrieving his sword and cleaning it, Aemond tuck it on his belt again, now approaching you warily. “There’s no need to be afraid. Now no one can stop us from staying together.”

“You killed her…” you stated, still in shock, while gazing at her dead body a few feets away from you.

Cooing at you, like you used to do to him when he was still a child, he tuck a strand of hair that stubbornly stayed on you face “I had to, or else, they wouldn’t let us be together. Now we are free to do as we please; we could even marry.”

“…marry?” you repeated his words, dumbfounded “but, I’m already betrothed to your brother, and I never saw you in—“ “Shhh… there’s no need to worry your pretty little head about this right now, okay? That drunkard is no longer of our concern, I already took care of him.”

Still petting your hair, you scrambled with your words “I-But… I don’t want to marry you! You were my little brother, remember? I could never see you in that way!”

Aemond let out a joyous laugh, too excited to finally have you all to himself to be angry at your denial “Don’t worry, darling; you’ll have enough time to you recognize me as a man, and in the future, as your husband.”

You didn’t react when the prince’s lips crashed hungrily at yours. In your catatonic state, you could only think about how your life came to this moment, being fervidly groped by the man you once adored. Your family was dead. Now, you were all alone with your little half-brother, who claimed you as his. Realizing your future, you could only cry silently.

       𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐰𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐭         

starring ⭒ kishibe ⭒ fem reader

tags ⭒ fluff ⭒ age gap ⭒ suggestive scenes ⭒ pet names (for kishibe: old man, dear) ⭒ size difference (reader is smaller than kishibe) ⭒ 1.7k words

note ⭒ started making the banner, had a breakdown, bon appétit 🫠 ⭒ big thank you to the dears @akicore and @blueparadis for beta reading!

𝟏 ︱ THE CONFESSION

“I like you.”

You’re seated next to him in the quiet of a meeting room when you blurt it out. He’s slouching over the wide table, tapping the surface with his fingers, a hair’s breadth of patience left. When he hears you, his fingers stop. Then he turns to you. “Why?”

He retains his lax expression. He’s noticed through your gestures—your habit of lacing your arm around his as you walk, your common act of sitting too close to him (like you are at present). Always him and no one else.

“I’m just an old man. You’re a charming young lady.” He adds.

“Give yourself some credit, old man,” you say, eyeing him casually, resting your cheek on your palm. “Sure, you’re rough around the edges, but I like that about you.”

He always thought your affection was platonic, a young devil hunter doting on her eldest senior. It didn’t necessarily help—if there was anyone who knew best what happened to the good ones, it was him.

He’s certain he won’t ask you to stop anytime soon, though.

“What do you say?” you ask.

“I say you’re crazy,” he responds.

“Is that a no?”

He deliberates as he gazes at you. “No. I like crazy.”

Intrigued by his answer, you reach for his scar, grazing it with the pads of your fingers. His thin beard scratches your palm. His fixed stare tells you he’s waiting for a motion.

The space between you recedes until your lips touch.

You know the taste of whisky and menthol cigarettes, but not when they came from his mouth. Not when he was written all over them.

They taste better like this.

When Makima walks in, you’re settled comfortably on his lap, and your lipstick smears the edges of his mouth. You both turn to her with alarm, the faces of two people caught.

“What’s this?” she smirks, then she turns to you. “I’m surprised. You never struck me as the antique type.”

𝟐 ︱ THE LIFE

When Kishibe was alone, he would come home late at night to inebriate or ​sleep his inebriation away. His apartment was empty whether he was in it or not; every space seemed cold and hollow, void of anything worthwhile. He refused to stick around for long periods of time.

Now it’s a dresser crowded with makeup products, a closet with nude-colored bras and panties, and a bathroom drain clogged with hair.

It’s also button-ups of contrasting sizes in the washer, big and small dress shoes in the genkan, and the empty side of the bed pleasantly filled.

He’s never felt warmer in his home.

“Eat your fruit, old man,” you lean over the armchair he sits in with a plate of sliced apples in your hand. You offer him a genial smile along with it.

His eyes reflect the motions of what’s on TV as he accepts the plate. “I don’t think you should keep calling me ‘old man,’”

You sit on one of the chair’s armrests. “How’s ‘baby’ sound?”

“Anything but that,” he says plainly, feeding the first piece of apple he picks up to you.

You chew loudly, uttering in between, “Master?”

“You’re not my student anymore,”

“Kishibe?”

“That’s just my name.”

“Hmm,” your tongue protrudes from your cheek. Then you tip your head toward him, “Dear?”

You see it in his pause: the slight curve of his lips, indicating you’ve hit the jackpot.

“I like that.”

𝟑 ︱ THE INTIMACY

“Oh dear,”

Your bare skin rubs against dark sheets as you shift sideways, your head throbbing, a soreness between your thighs. The air you’ve woken up to reeks of liquor and sin.

When you open your eyes, you’re greeted by the old scars on Kishibe’s broad back. He turns to face the ceiling with his eyes still closed, his gray hair sticking out at the sides. “What?” he asks groggily, another layer of gruffness to his voice; it was like that in the morning.

“Did we . . . ?”

His eyes flutter open. He looks down, raises your shared blanket to peek under it, then puts it back. “Looks like it.”

You groan and roll to the other side, facing away from him. “I can’t remember a thing,” you rub your face with your palms.

“I can remember some things,” he faces your side and shifts closer, wrapping his arm around your bare waist, pressing his front to your back. His chin rests on the crown of your head.

“Like what?” you put your hand over his as his fingers caress your stomach.

“Your pretty face,” he murmurs lowly. “Your pretty sounds.”

A breathy chuckle escapes your nose. “Was I good?”

His palm flattens on your stomach. Then it glides downward, to the middle of your thighs, leaving a streak of warmth in its wake. Your lungs feel compressed in your rib cage.

He lingers there, and your mind falls into a one-track state, absorbed in the bliss of his motions.

“So good,” he indulges in your mewls, presses himself to you further, and you squirm.

𝟒 ︱ THE FEAR

For the majority of his life, Kishibe had only seen people die, die, and die.

With you working in the same field, the thought of you joining those people inevitably crept into his mind. It’s another reason to drink, another reason to lie awake at night with a head full of troubles that drown out the sound of your light snoring.

You’re never out of his sight when you’re working together, and you’re never at peace when you’re not. Your cellphone has never received so many calls in one day.

One night, as he undresses on the edge of the bed after a day at work, you straddle his lap. You drape your arms around his shoulders, over his half-undone button-up, and regard him with a tender smile.

He shouldn’t be bothered when you’re a heavenly sight, but the thought creeps into his mind again. He could lose this smile through your line of work. He could lose this existence if you weren’t careful.

For once, he wears his heart on his sleeve. “I think you should resign.”

Your smile falls. There’s no returning from this.

He continues, “Don’t worry about supporting your family. I’ll take care of it.”

Your eyes cast down to his loose necktie. You take it between your fingers and rub the silk. You deliberate for several moments, and the longer he waits, the louder the thumping in his chest resounds.

You meet his eyes with resolve, smiling again. “No.”

He opens his mouth to argue, but you continue, “Look, I know I’m not as strong as you are. Nobody is. But I can take care of myse—”

“I know,” he interrupts. “I’m not saying you can’t. I just want you to—”

“Be safe?” you cup his cheeks, leaning closer until your noses brush. “I know, dear.”

He breathes you in. He notes the growth of your pupils before pressing a kiss to your lips. “I can’t lose ya.”

“You won’t,” you kiss him, too, and linger on his lips. “In fact, I’ll stick around for so long that you’ll get sick of me.”

His heart settles. In a wave of relief, he takes you into his arms and stands. He kneels on the bed, sets your head down on the pillow, and swallows you with his frame. “You’ll get sick of me first,”

𝟓 ︱ THE RESOLVE

“Do you wanna get married?”

Your eyes grow, then shift from the ceiling to set on him. You lie together in bed; sweat sheens his forehead, and his bare chest rises and falls rapidly, like yours. But he sounded calm when he asked, and he looks calm as you observe him.

He turns his head to you. “If I die, everything I own will be yours. I don’t have much, but I’d like you to have all of it.”

In your pensive silence, your breathing eases. You shift your body and face his side, propping your head up on one elbow. “You make it sound like you have to convince me to marry you.”

He replies with a semblance of hope, “Is that a yes?”

You hum in brief thought. “Do you have a ring?”

He pauses, then says, “Not at the moment.”

“Then no,” you switch sides curtly, facing your back to him. He saw it coming.

You meant it lightly. But the following night, as you drink with your colleagues, your several calls to him go unanswered.

Your beer glass sweats in your hand. You wonder if it has to do with your rejection, or worse: What if something’s happened?

Your anxiety branches out, multiplying thought after thought: Should I have accepted his proposal the first time? Was that his last chance to ask me? My last chance to say yes? Are his possessions ever going to be mine like he hoped?

Your colleagues watch you closely, wanting and attempting to assure you that he’s fine. But they know as well as you do that you can never tell.

Then gray hair sticks out of the curtains, a head lowered to fit into the doorframe, and the first pair of eyes he meets is yours.

You’re on the verge of tears with your phone pressed to your ear. You put it down abruptly. “Where the hell were you?”

He trudges toward you, to the end of the low table where you sit alone, and kneels at your side. “Are you drunk? Why are you crying?”

“You weren’t answering my calls,” you sob, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand, looking down abashedly.

“I was getting you something,” his hand disappears under his coat. “It was hard to pick.”

He holds a small velvet box out to you and opens it, prompting a collective gasp from your colleagues. “Will you say yes this time?”

The ring matches his silver hair; its tiny stones adorning the sides of the center stone resemble the long scar on his cheek. Your glossy eyes reflect its luster, blurring with the spill of more tears. You nod at him.

Cheers rip through the silence of the room and disrupt the peace of the establishment. He slides the ring into your finger, presses a kiss to your hand, then your lips. “I’ll never leave your side.”

You sniff and smile against the brush of his thumbs under your wet eyes, the tender kiss he lays on your forehead. “I’ll take your word for it.”

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