Omg This Was Amazing!!!!!!

Omg this was amazing!!!!!!

hello!!! hope you’re doing great, I kinda wanna ask about Thomas x Sister Shelby if you do that ? And if you do I’m thinking she’d be smart, has a very quick tongue and she wants to get out of the Shelby business to marry the love of her life (alfie😝😍) so she fakes her death and ofc everyone is distraught and angry than after a few years Thomas sees alfie at his home and than comes his sister who he thought had died and he berates her than she says something like you’re a worse person than me always killing for money like he can’t live without a war. Also I am in the mood for a very angst ending

A/N: Hello my love! How are you doing? I am so so sorry that this has taken forever. Truthfully, I had no clue how to do this. I thought about this long an hard, and though some things I switched up, I hope you enjoy this. I feel like this got me to stretch my writing muscles, and it was really fun. Let me know what you think darling!

Run Away With Me Darling

Alfie Solomons x Fem! Reader; 3.8k words; fluff, angst

Warnings: language, contentious family relationships, arranged marriage???

It started innocently enough.

You bringing tea and biscuits to meeting rooms where the men started their schemes. Listening and taking notes alongside your ever watchful Aunt Polly. Sneaking glances at the big brute in the chair across from your big brothers.

“Thank you treacle. Yeah that’s real kind of you.”

That brute is the only man that would say thank you for the tea you bring by. And when you go to pour more for him, he’s the only man who says, “No need for that darling. Grown men can pour their own tea yeah?”

It wasn’t meant to be anything more than professional. But you should’ve known. Known from that first encounter outside those Shelby walls… you and Mr. Solomons shared a single soul… and heaven nor hell could keep you from each other’s grasp.

It was hot. London is not a tropical city by any means. But the sheer amount of bodies, activity, and warm rain, had transformed the city into a sauna. The wisps of your hair along your neck and forehead are plastered to your body. Rivulets of sweat sneak down your chest. The heat could only be described as oppressive. You were counting down the steps till you could go home.

On the one hand… it was strange having a home all to yourself. Truthfully, it was the Shelby homestead in London, where the family would stay when business needed attending to. However, when they all left, you stayed. Carrying delicate messages. Keeping a close pulse on the going’s on of the city. And perhaps most importantly… remaining a pretty show pony for the Shelby family.

You hated to admit it. But you were desperately jealous of Ada. She had the guts to sneak past Arthur, Tommy, and John. She had the foresight to marry her true love before Tommy could marry her off to the highest bidder. You had no such luck. No childhood love. No sweetheart to campaign for. The boys had made sure of it. Despite Ada and your protests, and Polly’s discrete ploys; Tommy had decided. The sweet, pure, and innocent youngest Shelby girl will be auctioned off to the richest and most lucrative partner for the Shelby Company. And she will remain pretty and docile. A prize.

The mere thought made your stomach twist and churn and burn.

You loved them. Your family. More than most love their family. But you could barely breathe under their watch. Even in another city you felt the reach of their eyes. Felt the whisperings of potential matches for your hand and womb. The sweat on your brow burned your eyes. Taking place of the unshed tears you long abandoned.

All you longed for was cold water. A cool bath. Anything to scrub off the sweat and dirt and exhaustion. However, shade covered your front door, casting a shadow over the threshold.

“Sweetheart! Been waiting a bit for you!”

No matter where you see Mr. Solomons, he seems to take up all the space. You don’t know how he is able to stand the heat, with his coat and hat and bushy beard. But he looks unfettered. Cool even. You finally felt the kiss of the breeze on your neck as you approached.

“Mr. Solomons. How can I help you?”

“You going to invite me in like a good girl?”

“I’m not in the business of inviting strange men into my home.”

“You think me strange?”

“Oh Mr. Solomons you are the strangest man I’ve ever met.”

“Makes you a little excited though don’t it? A hint of danger yeah? Big brute standing at your door.”

You stuck your chin out, staring directly into his stormy eyes. “I’m not afraid of you Mr. Solomons.”

His mouth quirks up in the corner. A twinkle in his eyes, and your breath hitched as he leaned into your space, “Oh I know sweet. You ain’t like the others ain’t ya? I saw it… the first time I laid eyes on you I knew you were different. Those boys… cold blooded little snakes… you… nah… there’s a flame in you treacle…and I look forward to see you set things aflame.”

Before you could respond in any way, he leaned away, smiling at your response. He pulled out an envelope from his coat and handed it to you, “Contract and information for your devious brother my sweet. Don’t worry, put a little something in there for you too for your trouble.”

You snatched the envelope from his hand. Unsure of how to respond to his… behavior. His rumbling laugh set a shiver down your spine, but you pushed it down as you appraised him, “This seems below your job description… don’t you have messenger boys?”

He further smirked, “I hope you’ll forgive me, that I want to keep you to myself.”

“I’m not a kept girl.”

“That you are not. Just have to inform your brothers of the fact don’t you?”

Hot shame rose in your cheeks. The envelope in your hands crinkling sharply. You felt the cool brush of gold rings on your cheek, “I have a standing dinner every Thursday evening. Let it be our little secret, hmm?”

Before you could react, a coarse kiss is pressed to your knuckles. As he started walking away, you called out, “And if I don’t show up? What then?”

He turned, with a boyish smile, “You’re not a kept woman treacle. Not my business. I’ll just send my messenger boys in my place.”

That was a year ago. Things were so simple then. Secret dinners. Secret mornings. Secret dalliances and outings around town. And when the family came to town, you placed that mask back on. Sweet, innocent, and docile Shelby girl. Ready at the beck and call of her family. And when they left, you ran right into the arms of Alfie. Because where it all started as something to feel disobedient, it grew into something deeper and more ancient. You felt your soul intertwine with his, as if it was always searching for him. In the evenings when he whispered his love for you and kept you close, you had never felt safer. Never felt more alive.

But dreams are not forever. Sooner or later the bubble must pop.

“You’ll need to come back to Birmingham dearest.”

“For how long?”

Everyone looked up at Tommy. Tommy didn’t even look up from his dinner plate, “Permanently. I’ve got a husband for you.”

Your fork dropped. Your heart stopped beating.

You faintly hear Aunt Polly call your name.

“Husband?” You whispered.

Tommy sighed, “That is what I said. High time you married, you’re old enough. Mr. Gorman has multiple factories both here and in the states, and his son is set to inherit them all. It’s a good match, it’ll be very beneficial to the company.”

“Tommy I don’t even know him.”

“You have your entire life to get to know him. Now finish your dinner.”

“So you just decided is that it? You just decided to that I’d belong to some man? Tell me Tommy… how much did you sell me off for? How much is my womb worth?”

“Watch your mouth!” Polly hissed, with Arthur wincing at the cutting words.

“I’m not going.” You stood from your chair. Preparing for battle.

“It’s not up for discussion.”

“I’m not going! You cannot make me!”

Tommy rose from his seat, John putting his head in his hands with Arthur knocking back a drink. Low. Deadly. Tommy always could command a room with his voice. Cold finger pointing at you like a deadly weapon. “You will do as you’re told. This is not about you. This is about the family. In a week, I will come fetch you. I will drag you back to Birmingham if I have to. And you will marry the young Mr. Gorman, and you will have as many of his fucking babies as he chooses. You will be rich. You will be safe. And you will be set. I am not about to argue with a child.”

You felt the tears well up in your eyes. Sorrow. Mourning. Hatred. “I hate you Thomas Shelby. I hate you.”

“You will get over it.”

You ran to your room. Weeping the rest of the night.

Because how can your body and name be given to a man, when your heart and soul belonged to another?

They left the next morning. Arthur knocking on your door to announce the departure, and trying to convince you, “He’s a good lad darling. Trust Tommy alright? Wouldn’t let nothing bad happen to ya, even though it seems like right shit. Don’t be too angry at us. We’ll all still be close. And anyway… it’s what’s good for the family.”

You didn’t look at him. Not even a hum of acknowledgment when he kissed your hair tenderly. A regretful sigh leaves his body as Arthur walked away, taking one last look at your quivering body on your maiden bed. Arthur always had a soft spot for you. Always defensive for you unlike your other siblings. He had tried in vain to get Tommy to rethink the arrangement. You didn't need to get married. The company didn't need such an alliance. They'd get by as they always have. But Tommy's sights were set much higher. He wanted that name of honor. And to get it, he was willing to play by the rules of old money. Tommy had convinced Arthur enough. Enough that you'd eventually forgive them all.

The orange sky illuminated your bedroom in a bloody hue. Your throat dry and head hot and pounding. The creaking and settling of the house had become a steady ring in your ears, you didn't even hear the bedroom door open.

"Treacle. What are you doing? Eden said you haven't left since last night. You ill?"

Maids hear everything, you think bitterly. But you couldn't be too cross with Eden. Not really.

"He's done it Alfie."

Alfie toed off his boots after the hat and coat. Sinking into the too ornate duvet. "Who treacle? What happened?"

You faced him, deep creases of the duvet threads divide your hot wet cheeks. Lashes clumped together and soaked. "Tommy... he... he finally did it. He's married me off. In a weeks time I'm to belong to some... Mr. Gorman. His father owns factories, and I suppose that's enough for my bride price."

You feel your body being gently tugged up and into Alfie’s embrace. Despite any protest from you about how it may affect his back, he shushes you instantly, “Now now my little dove. Nah you ain’t going back to Birmingham. You ain’t getting married to some prick. Nah you’re staying here with ol’ Alfie.”

You force your face under his chin, letting his unkempt beard absorb your sobs, “No Alfie it’s true! Tommy told me yesterday at dinner! He… he’s taking me away Alfie! I hate him. I hate him so much. I don’t want to marry some man I don’t even know!”

“I already told you darling, you’re not going to! It’s not happening.”

You push his shoulder, “You’re not listening to me! Tommy said-“

“I don’t give a shit what Tommy said! You’re not marrying the shit because you’re marrying me!”

Like an unpracticed magician, he pulled out a gorgeous diamond and sapphire ring. Its glimmer and fractals made it look as endless as the night sky. You felt the breath in your lungs catch, anger and fear simmering down and cooling. You dared not touch something to precious, “Alfie Solomons…”

“Was my mother’s. Gave it to me when I came back from the war. On her death bed. Made me swear that I wouldn’t give it up for any pretty girl on the street. Had to give it to the one.”

You struggled to meet his gaze, “And I-“

“The one treacle. If you’ll have me.”

He shifted you in his lap, fully facing him, “Now… I had a whole event planned out. Garden stroll. Drinks. Music playing. And I know I’m a sorry old monster and you have loads of suitor-“

“Alfie-“

“But I swear on my life treacle, you’ll never want for anything. You will have freedom to do whatever you would hope to do. We’ll go anywhere. I’ll love you till the stars go out-“

“Alfie! Yes! Yes yes yes! I’ll marry you! You silly old man!”

You pushed him back and kissed him fiercely. With all the passion you had been hiding from your family for years. Until the acidic burn of reality came down, “But what about Tommy? Alfie you hate each other, he’ll never let me go.”

Rough hands running up and down your thighs, gazing in awe at the fiery halo surrounding you. “I was willing to go in and threaten blessing or death.”

“I won’t have you put in danger for love. This isn’t Shakespeare.”

With a laugh and kiss to your fingertips he whispers, “You got any ideas? I’m all ears.”

You try to think, but kept coming across a wall. Any option you thought of ended in bloodshed. You fell into the bed next to Alfie, curling into his chest, “I wish we could just run away.”

His arms tighten around you, “What if we did?”

It would happen three days before Tommy would come to fetch you. You dismissed Eden with an oath to secrecy, and for four days you played the part of excited bride to be. Purchasing things for a new marital home, a wedding dress and new wardrobe. Who cares if the detail of the lucky husband was slightly off?

Whenever your family called, you lied happily through your smiling teeth. At first you felt a twinge of guilt. But in the end, they stood by as your brothers sold you off. They lost the right to the truth. They hated Alfie, said as much any time they came to the house. They would never understand. They would never allow it. But this was your life. And you would be damned before you were cleaved from your beloved.

The men from the distillery made regular visits to the house in the middle of the night, picking up your things to take to Margate, dropping off love letters and updates from Alfie. With each passing day, your heart became lighter. The binds lessening. Freedom was right on your tongue.

Three days before Tommy, Arthur, and John are to pick you up, the horrific news explodes through Birmingham. The Shelby home in London: set ablaze. No survivors. The beautiful bride, burned alongside her wedding dress hanging in the window. The youngest Shelby girl, an angel amongst demons, taken too soon from the earth from a horrific accident. The fire so destructive, not even a body is there for a proper burial. Just ash and a memory of that sweet face. The funeral is horrible. Wailing and weeping from all of Birmingham. Aunt Polly could barely keep it together, blaming Tommy for it all. Even business acquaintances from London and beyond come to pay their respects. The most shocking visitor, was Mr. Solomons, who paid for the funeral itself, “I’m sorry Tommy for your loss. I really am. She was a sweet girl. But… she’s in a better place I’m sure.”

And what a better place that is. White washed home right on the beach, windows open at all times, with the sea breeze billowing pristine gossamer curtains in the wind. You spend your days reading and writing to your heart’s content, strolling the beach, playing with Cyril like a child. As Alfie settles affairs in Camden during the week, he visits during the weekend, serving and worshipping you like a goddess. He never gave you information about the family. You didn’t want it. That was your old life. A you that you couldn’t recognize. Here, in this life, you were free. Free to speak. Free to argue and give your mind.

After a month, Alfie permanently moves to Margate. Home. Retired from the gangster life with enough money to live comfortably for the rest of his life, with more than enough to comfort when he’s gone.

And the years pass blissfully. Just how it was in the beginning. Kisses and dancing and laughter and arguing and love and joy. 3 years of absolute heaven, you had nearly forgotten how it all was almost taken from you.

But the past does have a way of rearing its ugly head doesn’t it?

It’s the dawn of summer. The final kisses of spring bringing crisp clean air through your marital home. Alfie had never felt better. The pain in his body had long left him, only flaring during the coldest evenings. The dark circles under his eyes have dissolved. His face and body, fuller, firmer with the glowing health of a man at peace who works for life not death. You were upstairs, searching for the a particular spool of thread you had been working with for a blanket you had spent days on. But it needed to be done soon. Alfie shifted through the records you both had been collecting. Symphonies had become his special interest in the recent months, and he was looking for a particular composition that he felt would make your heart sing.

The heavy knock on the door sent the hair on his neck stand at attention.

Only one demon knocked like that.

His eyes shifted to the stairs. He could still hear you moving things around. Searching tirelessly for that spool. You’d be missing for a couple minutes. Enough to rebuke the vile creature from the door without your discovery.

With a deep breath, Alfie tries to remember the armor of his past. The Mad Baker. Just as another round of knocks was about to come, Alfie opened roughly, “Tommy! What are you doing here? Gates of hell need their master don’t they?”

He looked thinner than normal. It’s been years since the men had seen each other, but the difference was still shocking. Those icey blue eyes even more haunting than they were at the funeral. Gaunt cheeks and pale skin made him look like a living corpse. A flicker of a flame winked behind those eyes. Hope for another fight. Something to set him aflame. “Hello Alfie. Enjoying retirement?”

“Yeah actually I am so whatever you have up your sleeve I want no part in it so if you’ll just fuck off.”

Before Alfie could slam the door, Tommy stuck his foot in the door, “Not that simple Alfie. Worlds gone to shit and it needs Solomons to set it to right.”

“Your world not mine. Now get out.”

“I’m not going to leave until you let me in Alfie.”

Your angelic voice danced on the breeze down to the front door, “I found it! Alfie you would not believe where it was! I swear I’m losing my mind.”

Tommy’s face some how went paler. As if he heard Satan’s whisper of condemnation. Alfie tried to push the door closed, but with the strength of a mad man Tommy pushed past the threshold.

Tommy almost fainted.

This must be hell.

He must have died.

It’s the only rational idea.

God chose to lock him in the home of his biggest agitation, with the ghost of his dead baby sister.

But this couldn’t be your ghost. Your swollen belly proves this.

“Holy shit.” You drop the tea cup in your hands when you see Tommy. Tommy who wasn’t supposed to be here. Tommy who saw you buried and dead.

Alfie rushes in, pulling you behind his broad frame. Through his linen shirt, you feel the ragged breath and hammering heart of your husband. You feel faint. “Tommy… you need to leave right now.”

“You paid for the funeral.”

“Tommy we can do this later but you need to get out right now. I’m asking nicely.”

“You knew she was alive… you knew.”

“She is very delicate right now she does not need any excitement.”

“You fucking made her delicate! You compromised her you fucking bastard!”

You cried out as Tommy lunged for your husband, “Stop it Tommy! Enough! Get out of my house!”

Tommy stumbled, pointing at you, “You… you’re fucking sick. You’re demented! You caused Polly a near heart attack. You are disgusting!”

You push past Alfie, who is left watching, “I’m disgusting! You sold me off to some man. And for what? To get people to see you as a big man? Guess what Tommy, you will NEVER be good enough for them! They’ll always see people like us as trash! But you don’t care. Anything to get ahead right?! You’ll stoop as low as you need to ahead.”

Tommy laughed bitterly, holding back the urge to spit, “And what about you yeah? So spoiled that you throw the biggest tantrum of the century. Whore yourself out to the Mad Baker, and get knocked up with his bastard.”

“I’d stop talking if I were you Tommy.”, Alfie snarled darkly. Fists curling in. Like a wolf ready to devour.

“I’d rather be his whore than be a part of any family of yours. You can’t leave well enough alone. Murdering and slaughtering for some honor so quick to tarnish and fade away. You tried to lock me away, never taking a care to what I wanted or thought. But you can’t do that to me anymore. I’m a Solomons, and I carry his child. You can’t touch me.”

Tommy settled, steel washed over his face. “They have a right to know.”

“You all have a right to nothing. I’ll see the family when I’m good and ready.”

His eyes shift to Alfie, “You are evil incarnate. You are cursed.”

No sign of mirth reaches Alfie’s eyes when he smirks, “Careful Tommy. You know what they say about curses. Especially when you curse family.”

Without another word, Tommy storms out. As soon as the door slams, shaking the lamps, you let out the breath in your heavy lungs, “Holy Shit”.

Your knees give out from under you, and cold shakes roll through your body. Alfie grabbed your body, helping you into a chair. “Settle my love it’s alright he’s gone. What do you need? Baby ok?”

“No I’m ok thank you my love. I just… I need air. I can’t believe he came here. He knows. They all know.”

“Hush darling, breathe for me, settle your nerves, you don’t need to worry. They know but they can’t touch you. You’re my wife and they can’t get to you. You are your own woman. You are safe.”

“But what are we going to do. What if they come?”

“Then we’ll deal with them. I’ll have some boys come in, set up a watch. We won’t be caught off guard ever again.”

You nodded. Trusting the words of your husband. You felt an affirming kick in your ribs. The rushing of your heart. You had paradise for three years. You couldn’t run forever, no matter how far you got. The bell had finally tolled, and it was time to face it.

Blood of Two, Joined as One

Pairing: Jacaerys x twin sister reader

Tags: sibling incest, smut, public sex, painted table sex, p. in v. sex, voyeurism (Daemon walks in)

Wordcount: 2,490

As you and your twin Jacaerys work through your frustrations at being left on the sidelines of the war, Daemon walks in and challenges you to finish what you have started.

Jacaerys Masterlist

Ash in the wind, that was how Jacaerys felt as the bastards were brought down to the pit to face divine justice—and they had, for the most part, and most of them had been punished for their arrogance. Jace knew he was being cruel in his thoughts, but his cruelty only equaled his sorrows.

He had refused to see it, to witness the potential ascent of lowborns towards glory, only one step away from his own birthright, which was now being refused to him.

For years he had strived to prove the rumors about his parentage to be wrong, or falsely founded—he had trained with the sword, learned High Valyrian, forged a deep bond with his own dragon, a green-winged beast that had been born to him. Now he felt all this had been in vain, and that his claim to his own inheritance would be washed away like footprints in the sand, blown away by the wind or smoothed over by the waves.

Jacaerys also admitted he felt no small amount of fear for his siblings, the three dark-haired dragonriders that came after him—two now, his mind corrected cruelly, and it made him want to cling to his brother and sister, but Joffrey was hidden away in the Vale and you were cold to him these days, and distant.

He knew he had only himself to blame, as he had been so solely focused on his own losses and frustrations that he had forgotten to consider yours. Rhaenyra had been even more protective of you than she was of him, refusing you to leave the island, and he had been inclined to agree with her.

Now he understood how undermined you had felt, and how deep it must have cut, coming from your twin no less. The two of you were the equal parts of a whole, and he had grown up knowing you would be his queen one day. Yet when the time had come to welcome you at his side and allow you to take part in the war as he had—going behind Rhaenyra’s back to secure passage to the Stark armies, standing up to her at council—he had refused you. 

The loss of Luke had only highlighted how fragile life was, and how devastating Vhagar’s strength could be, and it had carved a pit of utter terror into his heart that he would lose you as well, if you were not kept away from it all. 

The hour was growing late, but he had refused to attend supper with the new dragonriders, leaving that role to Baela and no doubt to you, but as he paced the Painted Table hall, trying to channel his frustrations, it was your voice that interrupted the whirlwind of his thoughts.

“Jacaerys?” came the call, and he turned to see you approach gently, as you would a spooked horse. He had never admitted to it, but the way you resorted to his full name more often than not made his spine shiver and possessiveness curl in his stomach.

“I thought you would be at supper,” he replied as you took the last step into the cold room, the hearth having been extinguished. The candles on the table were cold as well, and he scratched at the hard wax drippings on the edge of it.

“I said I would check on you,” you replied gently, but not as warm as you could be, as you came to stand beside him.

“I am sorry,” he whispered, and your hand on his arm did soothe him slightly. You leaned against the table, almost sitting on it while he stood facing it, his head low between his shoulders—it would only take you a breath to lean in and press your temple to his, but you did not.

His dismissive behavior these last few weeks had wounded you, and you blamed him for that streak of arrogance he possessed that only came out at the worst times. However you saw no use reprimanding him for it, as you could tell his personal sorrows were torment enough.

“Mother looked aggrieved, I can tell you had words for her,” you offered, and Jace gladly accepted the space you held out for him to relieve himself of his burdens.

“What are we to become, if anyone may lay claim to our inheritance?” he hissed, but it lacked his earlier fury. Instead his words were wavering, much like his resolve, and he found himself yearning for comfort rather than an argument. 

You pressed your forehead to hiss, humming soothingly as he took a trembling breath. Your hand slid down his arm to his hand, which was flat on the table, and the feeling of your skin did calm him slightly.

“Allow me to stand with you, from now on, and we shall defend our birthright together,” you said, and his answer came in the form of a slow, deep kiss. Jacaerys had a tendency to make great declarations, which you found both sweet and incensing, but at this moment his lips spoke instead of his words as he pressed into you firmly.

He sighed as you accepted him, melting into his kiss and reciprocating his sudden passion. His plump lips and agile tongue made you shiver, even more when he stepped aside as pressed against you, nudging your knees apart so he could stand between them. 

The both of you folded into the familiar embrace that had often been yours this past year, since your coming of age and subsequent betrothal—his hands found your waist as yours slid into his hair, his slim hips slotting perfectly in the cradle of your thighs.

Your breaths were hot and loud in the empty hall as you parted for air, but soon it was taken from your lungs again as your twin’s hand followed the crease of your hip to the inside of your thigh, pushing past the lapel of your dress. “Jace,” you sighed.

“I’ve longed for you these past few weeks, I need you,” he murmured, his dark eyes searching your face—for comfort, for approval, for answering desire, you could not say.

“Surely not here,” you inquired.

“Everyone is at supper. No one shall come to fetch us,” he said slowly, allowing you the time you needed to make your refusal known, but you did not, and instead your knees parted wider over his hips. “Don’t you long for me?”

You swallowed the last word of his question with a passionate kiss, your fingers tightening in his mane of rich curls, and you surprised yourself with how eager you were. It was true, you had yearned for him perhaps just as much as he had for you, and this disconnect had left you feeling unmoored, like a boat barely floating upon choppy waters.

“You know I long for you, always,” you replied, and your confession was met with the utmost enthusiasm. 

You were less expressive than your twin, less prone to declarations from the heart, and your words seemed to have sparked a fire within him—he reached below your smallclothes to press his thumb in tight circles over your pearl as his mouth fastened to the side of your neck.

For a long minute you allowed yourself this simple pleasure, that of his undivided attention, rocking your hips into his hand as he pressed himself to your inner thigh, seeking friction. “Quickly, then,” you conceded when two of his fingers slipped between your folds and into you with ease. 

Jace’s hand was slightly wet as he unbuckled his belt, pushed his doublet aside and unlaced his trousers—you both panted into each other’s mouth, your tongues curling together almost obscenely until he pushed into you in short, tentative thrusts.

The illicit nature of your embrace seemed to incense him and you loved this newfound boldness in him, even though he remained careful and patient as he took you, going for slow, shallow rolls of his hips. You took what he gave you, sitting fully on the table and clinging to his shoulders for leverage, your own hips grinding into his to seek pressure at your pearl.

The slow, quiet rhythm that was usually that of your coupling was familiar and still immensely satisfying, but you could tell there was a fire under Jace’s skin that such an embrace couldn’t reach—he was still shy and too correct sometimes, but your own lack of experience hindered you, and you were unsure what to offer him instead.

“Jace, maybe we should—” you started before a quiet noise interrupted you, in hindsight perhaps that of a door sliding across stones, and the two of you froze. Trembling and unable to keep his breath steady, Jacaerys shut his eyes in frustration, and the both of you waited, no doubt expecting the sound to be a solitary one.

However, quiet footsteps echoed in the hall and before realization and panic could set in, the swaggering figure of Daemon appeared from behind the staircase.

“Well, well, now I understand why there was no one to greet me in the pit,” he chuckled, and you hid your face in your twin’s shoulder as he cursed aloud, reaching for his doublet to hide himself when he would pull away. “Don’t be shy, there’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“If you would give us a minute,” Jacaerys stammered.

“Come on now, show me what you’ve got,” Daemon said in a low tone, approaching slowly, almost prowling. “You were bold enough to start fucking her here, surely you’re bold enough to finish it. Or finish her, at the least.”

You hid your face in Jaceaerys’ shoulder, but he could tell you weren’t wary—simply waiting, no doubt curious of what he would do. Your knees tightened around his waist as Daemon made an amused sound and cocked his hip on the edge of the table. “I heard about what our queen has been up to upstairs,” he spat, visibly displeased and perhaps even disgusted at the prospect. “Is that why you’re hiding here, defiling the table where she plots her war?”

At those words you slowly pushed back from your twin’s shoulder, lying back until your weight was resting on your elbows—Jacaerys hissed as you moved, the angle of your hips changing, your core clenching despite yourself. 

“Show me what you’re made of, boy,” Daemon said, almost challenging. “Your sister certainly knows what blood runs through her veins.”

At that Jacaerys looked upon you again, your dark hair spilling on the tabletop like dark rivers, your eyes fixed on him as you waited, curious to see if he would finally unleash the fire you could feel rushing beneath his skin.

Yours was flushed a dark pink, from your cheeks down to your chest, but your gaze was almost daring—you hooked your legs behind his knees, pulling him in, and there was an air of arrogance to him as he went back to the slow rhythm you had been enjoying before Daemon’s interruption.

He pushed himself forward, one of his hands coming to rest flat on the table, giving him more leverage as he thrusted into you, and soon your breaths picked up again, strangely incensed by your unexpected witness. It was barely a minute before he was interrupting again, his words almost biting.

“She’s your future queen, fuck her like she deserves,” he said like an accusation, and to your delight, Jacaerys rose to the bait.

He had never been anything but tender and gentle, hiding his baser urges in the fact that you were promised to each other from birth, a right given to you by the womb you had shared, rather than your family’s decisions. Even though your mother refused to have you married until the war was over and she had ascended her throne, you fully belonged to the other. 

You were bound together, but not by a formal betrothal, rather by the laws of the Gods, of nature itself. You had entered this world together and would leave it together—and Gods willing, you would reign together in-between. In the meantime, your mother had meant for you to wait until you could be wedded as her heirs, and for your union to be witnessed by all the lords you would rule over one day.

“I would not hurt you,” your twin said, reaching where your bodies were joined to press his thumb to your core in counterpoint with the rocking of his hips, perhaps to soothe the sudden sharpness of his thrusts. 

You shook your head, stretching your back on the table until you were fully lying on it, and you closed your eyes to the sharp heat that rose in your stomach—pleasure came to you in sudden waves rather than a mounting pressure, almost like the crack of a whip every time Jace bottomed out. Beads of sweat were making curls stick to his temples and you would have licked them if you could raise your back, but you were speared to the spot by this newfound vigor.

Pride burst in your chest at his demonstration, and you could tell the same feeling was spurring him on, strangely eager to prove he was indeed of dragon blood, and able to claim his sister with enough force and assurance.

You matched him thrust for thrust, rocking your hips into him until your pants morphed into whimpers, and you clapped your hand over your mouth, lest they turn into wails.

However Daemon ripped your arm from your face and held your palm flat to the table. “Let them hear,” he thundered. “Let these mongrels hear what it sounds like when true dragons claim one another.”

Jacaerys made a wounded sound at that, and you lost yourself to the darkness of his eyes, and the two of you didn’t need words to speak. Your betrothal had been consummated time and time again, up until his peak when he always pulled out, spilling his seed on your stomach—this time he would not, and the mere prospect was enough to make the tension at your core snap.

You held his gaze as your peak took over, long enough to see his own eyes close as his mouth dropped open and his hips faltered, his contained moans turning into rough groans as he spent himself inside of you.

Your head fell back on the hard table as you panted, your knees falling open once more as you unhooked your legs from his. At your side, Daemon released your hand and turned without a word, barely a satisfied hum. 

You were left wondering what the point of this show of force had been as Jace bent forward and rested his forehead on your chest while he chased his breath. 

“You shall be married before you fly out to war and be stronger for it,” Daemon announced over his shoulder as he climbed the steps leading to the royal quarters. “I will see to it myself.”

Dividers by @/saradika

Thank you to @thenameswinter99 for her support ♡

Please consider reblogging if you enjoyed, this is how we keep stories alive on this platform. Likes and comments are equally appreciated.

Comment to be added to my Jacaerys masterlist.

Jacaerys Taglist: @aegonswife @hobisinterlude @bunbunbl0gs @brevlada24

@thenameswinter99 @v0relino @jacesvelaryons @cookiesnfeesh

@maeriontargaryen @multyfangirl

As someone who lost their father to cancer I feel this is very important to share. Please vote in 2024, and vote for those who care more about the people rather than bullshit politics.

(I don’t typically talk politics or world affairs but this hit me hard.)

Intense Car Ride | Malachy Granger

summary: your boyfriend picks you up from school and heading back at you place to have dinner with your parents—which happens to be the first time Malachy would met them, until his drving was interrupted.

themes/warnings: smut (18+), the reader is 18 years old and Malachy’s 24 years old, age gap, cursing.

Malachy was inside of his Sabb 900 car waiting in front of a high school that his girlfriend attended. He looked down at his watch checking the time, it was 3:29, and it was only one minute until you got out of school. He heard a faint bell sound and saw kids coming out of the school building.

You quickly pushed the door open and hurriedly walked to search for your boyfriend’s car. Luckily, he parked in front of the school and you spotted it quickly. You saw him smile through the window, which caused your stomach to fill up with butterflies.

He saw you run towards his car and being a nice boyfriend pushing the door open from the inside of the car. You opened it all the way and got inside the car, closing the door right behind her.

“Hello bunny,” He greeted, he called you bunny because whenever you see him you jump like a bunny.

You grabbed him by the collar and kissed him on the lips, not caring about the students watching them. Malachy was caught by surprise but he did not mind it all. He rubs your cheeks with his warm hand and your lips while still kissing his girlfriend.

“I missed you.” You pulled away from the kissing, licking her lips. Malachy gazed at your lips wanting to continue but needed to drive. “Me too, let’s go.” He said to you.

You nodded and sat down properly as she put on her seat belt. Malachy started his car engine and looked at you to see if his girlfriend had her safety belt on. He looks forward to the street and then drives away from the school before school traffic begins.

It was going to be a long drive since you were heading to your place usually after school you guys would head over to his place, and hang out for a while before he took you home. Today was different because Malachy was finally going to meet your parents and have dinner with them.

Your parents knew about Malachy being 5 years older than you. But they don’t mind it all as long as you are happy in the relationship.

“Do your parents know that I am 24 years old, I don’t want them to think a 24-year-old is dating my 18 daughter.” Malachy was nervous to meet your parents. When you brought up that your parents wanted to have dinner with you and your boyfriend.

He was shocked by the words that were coming out of your mouth. He has not met your parents, even though he drops you off later in the day and then drives away.

"Have I ever told you the story of how my parents met?" you asked Malachy, resting your hand on top of his as he gently rubbed your thighs, causing your school shorts to lift back and forth.

Malachy quickly looked at you and gave you a look ‘how is this relevant’ before eyeing back to the road.

“Well, my mother met my father when she was 16 when he was 20. They both started when she turned 18.” You told him. Malachy somehow felt relieved and took a breather. “They are going to love you.” You happily said to Malachy.

You still saw how intense his body was, you did not him to be so intense. You eyed down to his lap where the pants zipper were. You undo your seat belt and turn your body to the side as Malachy’s falls off your thighs.

“What are you doing? Put your seat belt back on, bunny.” Malachy glanced at his girlfriend but you ignored him.

“You seem intense, let me help you.” Your hand guided down to his zipper where. Malachy felt you unzip his pants.

“Bunny, I need to focus on driving.” He lets out a shaking breath trying to focus on the road.

“Then focus.” You looked up with a pleading look and Malachy couldn’t deny it.

You unbuttoned his pants and tugged down with Malachy's help, he lifted his waist making a much to pull off his pants. Not down but down enough for her to take out his member.

Malachy tried to focus on the road but still could not help on get hard to the point that he was oozing in his underwear draws. You slowly take out his cock to see it hard as a rock and his cum already slowly dripping down. You licked your lips at the sight of it.

He could feel the cold breeze of his air conditioner. He quickly hits off the conditioner not wanting to feel the cold breeze and he felt his girlfriend’s soft hand on his cock. Malachy hits his head back on the seating, closing his eyes from the pleasure. You grab the hold of his cock and you opened your mouth then slowly take his cock inch by inch.

Malachy squeezes the steering wheel and continues driving. You bopped your head up and down taking his cock all in, his cock was hitting up your throat. You took it like a champ on going down on him. He hears your small sounds coming out of you making him more horny.

His hand slowly went towards the back of your head and helped you go faster. His stomach was twisted and turning feeling that his cock was going to explode in your mouth. He needed to stop before getting into a crash and parked in the middle of the road turning off the engine of his car. It was a good thing that no cars around them.

Your boyfriend lets out a groan and moans, it’s like music in your ear, he starts lifting his hips and thrusting into your mouth. Tears dropping drop your cheek. He let out a loud moan shooting cum into your mouth. He breathes deeply and tries to calm down. You lift from his cock and swallow his cum and looked at him with her innocent eyes.

“Bunny,” Malachy smirked and grabbed your waist placing you on top of his lap. He lifts your skirt slowly with his large hands and reaches for your black lace underwear.

“Fuck me.” You whispered into his ear. That’s all he needed to hear from you.

He pulled your underwear to the side and guided it down to his cock that already harden. You let out a whimpering sound feeling his member sinking into your clit. He watched you gape your mouth open, allowing him to down your mouth with his tugging.

You rocked your hips back and forth before bouncing on his cock. You moved your mouth down to his neck ducking his neck. Malachy helped you jump harder and faster onto his cock making his car bounce in the rhythm of your jumping.

You and Malachy were at your peak when your eyes saw the back of the car window to see a cop car driving your way.

“Shit, cop car.” Both of you guys and hissed as you lifted from him. You quickly out into your seat and sat down putting your seat belt back on. You wipe your mouth with your long sleeve shirt making no cum left on your face.

Malachy pulled up his pants and dragged down his shirt then quickly started the car before he could start the car. Cop car puts on the flashing lights blue and the sound, and Malachy curses out loud. He glanced at the side mirror to see the cop walking over to the car.

The cop reached over to the window and knocked on the window. Your boyfriend rolled his window and the officer leaned over to the level of the window revealing himself to you and Malachy.

“Sir, you are parked in the middle of the road, you do know that?” The Officer asked him. “Yes, I do know that, officer,” Malachy responded to him. He was silent a few seconds later.

“May I both see your IDs please?” The Officer ordered. You sighed and reached over for your backpack to look for it. Malachy reached for his wallet which was resting on the cup holder.

He gave his ID and you gave him yours. The Officer looked at the IDs and looked back at them.

“I’ll be back.” He stated walking off with your IDs in his hands to his police car.

“Fuck,” Malachy cursed in his hands, nervous as hell. Hoping he does not question why an 18-year-old girl was alone with a 24-year-old man.

“Mal, it’s going to be alright. I’ll just tell him that you’re my uncle.” You suggested to him, he snapped his head to you. “I am not going to lie to the Officer.” He tells you.

Malachy saw the officer walking back from his research.

“Mr. Granger step out of the car please?” The Officer asked Malachy nodded in response taking off his seat belt. You watch him get out of his seat. Shit.

The Officer how nervous the man was. Was there something he was hiding from or hiding something?

“Put your hands behind your head.” The Officer ordered Malachy. He couldn’t believe this was happening to him, was he getting arrested for having an 18-year-old girl?

When Malachy placed his hands back off his head the officer saw that his button and zipper from his pants were down.

“Fix your pants.” Malachy looked down at his pants forgetting to zip it back up. He quickly shifted his hands and zipped up his pants.

The Officer turned him around grabbed the cuff from his belt and cuffed his hands. Malachy was going to be arrested and go to jail. You saw what was happening and quickly got out of the car. He saw you get out of the car and he did not want you to interfere.

“Daddy, you’re scaring him.” You blurted out, Malachy's eyes widened after hearing you calling the officer.

“Come on, it’s hilarious.” Your father answered as he un-cuffed your boyfriend from the handcuffs. “W-wait you her father?” He stuttered in his words.

“Yeah. It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Y/F/N.” He greeted Malachy extending his hand out for a shake and your boyfriend shook his hand.

“I have to get back to work. Here, I’ll see you guys back home.” He gave you the IDs back and kissed your cheek before heading back to his cop car and driving away.

Malachy and you headed back to his car and got inside. He rubbed his head trying to process what just happened to them.

“Your father is a cop!” Malachy spoke up and you hummed. “Oh god, he knows I was fucking you in this car.” He adds on.

“This dinner is going to be fun.” You giggled and your boyfriend looked at you. Malachy couldn’t help but laugh also and then started driving to your parent’s house.

——————————————

reblog • like • comment • follow me for more content like this <3

God I love Ron sm

hey umm ane fandom have this bc I actually folded to rins cuteness 😔👉👈 mephisto did a magic trick and the twins are 18yo here 🪄 established relationship, rin x reader.

A seemingly peaceful day has come around again.

A well-deserved, peaceful day, if you will - after the battle with Satan, a night full of sleep made Rin’s blood flow with a lot more vigor.

That’s why currently you’re straddling your boyfriend’s hips and watching him do absolutely nothing, but laying down with an arm over his eyes.

Rin’s chest gently rises and lowers, his other hand firmly holding you by the waist; for many, it’s boring. But for both of you, it’s finally, finally boring, instead of something happening yet again.

But doing all that nothing makes you act up on your intrusive thoughts - one of which being assaulting Rin in the best way possible.

You take Rin’s hand off your waist and intertwine it with yours, but he doesn’t say anything or moves an inch - he only begins to tightly hold your hand in his, smiling a little bit to himself. His tail swishes once in a while on the side of the bed, tickling your shins once it brushes against it.

In attempt to remove the arm draped over his face, you press a tiny kiss on the exposed part of his skin; still, the half-demon doesn’t budge, but lets out a happy whine, or at least that’s what you assume it is. He gives your hand an affectionate squeeze, but nothing beyond it.

That’s it - that’s when you’re no longer patient and begin your attack.

You take his arm off his face and again intertwine it, but Rin only furrows his brows and yelps at the sudden sun light gracing his eyes. While he moans agonizingly at the sudden intrusion, you kiss his eyelids gently, then his forehead, and the tip of his nose.

“Aww, look at you, practically glued to my face,” Rin tilts his head on the pillow as he opens his eyes and pulls you closer by your connected hands, lips smiling so much they show his massive teeth ever so slightly.

“So what if I am? Should’ve kicked Satan’a ass sooner, loser!”

You knew the topic was still heavy - Rin’s head was still going through the lives that have been lost - but he seemed to have cope a bit better with humor.

“Ha?! No way! I’m not a loser, if anything, you’re a loser if you’re still dating me!” He exclaimed proudly, smirking at you and blowing a nasty raspberry on your interlaced hand.

“Oh shut up, you brat!”

“But we’re the same a—”

Rin’s sentence was quickly cut off by your lips peppering kisses everywhere on his face - his cheeks, forehead, ears, the corners of his mouth, even the nubbins of his developing horns - meanwhile his tail attempts to stop you and wraps around your waist, failing miserably. Rin’s giggles and pleadings to slow down and stop filled the room, but you only kept going - at this point Rin’s gently wrestling with you to get you away from his face.

You knew he could just flip you on your back like a bag of potatoes and get on top. He also knew that - but he finds your tries to keep him in place way too adorable to actually do that.

“Alright, alright, fine, I surrender!” Rin admits while still laughing, his fangs on display and slightly making your head spin from the… rather unholy activities, effectively distracting you in the process. After a short while of rest for both of you, your face hovers over his own for the final time, looking in his beautiful, sapphire eyes and wiping the happy tears from his eyes.

Rin’s the one to close the distance between you by pulling your chin and connecting your lips in a soft kiss, then moving his hand to cup your cheek and caressing it with his thumb.

“Ew.”

Too bad none of you heard the doors open.

Yukio looks at you two with a grimace on his face, sparing himself from the scene in front of him and quickly diverting his gaze to the bag he’s holding. Rin and you pull away in the meantime, the older twin giving the younger a dirty look and an eye roll.

“Have you heard about knocking, dumbass?”

“I did knock, Rin. Maybe if you weren’t that busy making out in the broad daylight, you would notice, dumbass.”

“Makin— what?! We weren’t doing anything, four eyes!”

Yukio only raises a brow and looks at you, then at Rin, and then back at you.

“Surely.”

“For real! I promise! Ugh, just admit you’re jealous, damn,” Rin speaks the end of his sentence way quieter and pouts adorably, the pink dusting his cheeks making you laugh.

It’s good to have Rin back.

“I heard that!”

It’s good to have Rin and Yukio back.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ 𝐌𝐲 𝐝♡ve 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀

Pairing: Unhinged Aegon x Therapist Reader part 2

Summary: after your last session with Aegon, you always feel him behind your back, when you were at home you could feel him here. And when your next session come, everything just got worse...

Warning: dead animals, just a little sex scene, minors DNI.

˚꒰♡꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language and I wrote this at 2 AM alone in the home. So I'm sorry if it's not good, I was scared and I couldn't think. Here's Part 1. Hope you enjoy!

That night, sleep came slowly to Y/N. The room felt colder than usual, the darkness pressing in from all sides. Every creak of the floorboards, every gust of wind against the window sent her heart racing. She pulled the blankets tighter around her, trying to convince herself that Aegon’s words had just been that—a mind game, an attempt to unsettle her. But the weight of his gaze from earlier lingered like a ghost in the room.

He didn’t actually watch me, she thought, squeezing her eyes shut. He was just trying to freak me out, trying to get into my head. That’s what he does.

But as soon as she closed her eyes, she imagined him standing outside her window, staring in at her with that unsettling intensity. She quickly opened them again, staring at the window across from her bed. The curtains fluttered slightly in the breeze, and for a moment, her mind played tricks on her, imagining a shadow behind them.

There’s no one there, she repeated to herself. He’s not here. He can’t be here.

She forced herself to roll over, turning her back to the window. But that only made her feel more vulnerable. What if he was watching her now, right behind her? She cursed under her breath, her skin prickling with the sense of being observed.

He’s not here. You’re safe. He just wanted to mess with you. That’s all.

But the thought looped in her head, becoming harder to shake. Every sound in the house became magnified—the creak of the pipes, the hum of the fridge, the rustle of leaves outside. Everything felt threatening. She tried focusing on her breathing, counting each inhale and exhale, forcing her mind to calm.

You’re a professional, she reminded herself, staring at the faint light coming through the crack in the curtains. You’ve dealt with difficult clients before. He’s no different.

But deep down, she knew Aegon was different. He was more than difficult—he was dangerous, unpredictable. The way he looked at her, the way he spoke about that dove, about watching her through the window... it was unsettling in a way that no other client had ever been. And that was what made it so hard to shake.

Hours passed before she finally drifted into a restless sleep, her mind plagued by half-formed dreams of shadows and cold eyes staring through the night.

The next morning, she walked to her office with a persistent unease in her chest. The street felt too quiet, and she found herself glancing over her shoulder every few steps, expecting to see Aegon trailing behind her. But there was no one. Just the usual early morning foot traffic—people heading to work, students with their heads buried in their phones.

He’s not here, she told herself again, quickening her pace. He’s not following you. You’re just being paranoid.

But every time she turned a corner, her heart leapt into her throat, expecting to catch a glimpse of his familiar figure. She tried to shake off the paranoia, but it clung to her like a second skin.

When she finally reached her office building, she sighed in relief, stepping quickly inside. The familiar scent of the lobby, the hum of the elevator, the bright, sterile lighting—everything felt like a small refuge from the gnawing anxiety that had been following her all morning.

But the moment she stepped into her office and closed the door, the unease returned. Her eyes immediately darted to the window, checking for any sign of movement outside. There was nothing—just the trees swaying gently in the breeze, the distant sound of traffic.

He’s not watching you, she reminded herself for what felt like the hundredth time. He’s just trying to scare you, and it’s working. Don’t let him get to you.

But even as she tried to focus on her work, her mind kept wandering back to Aegon. His strange, possessive words about the dove. The way he described wanting to clip its wings, to keep it trapped and close. It echoed in her head, too close to how he might feel about her. She shuddered at the thought, her fingers trembling slightly as she reached for her coffee.

Later, as the day turned to evening and she walked home, the unease intensified. The shadows stretched longer, darker, and with every step, she felt like someone was just a few paces behind her. She forced herself to keep walking, telling herself not to look back.

He’s not there, she repeated, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. It’s just your imagination. He’s not following you.

But the urge to turn around became too much. She quickly glanced over her shoulder, her breath catching in her throat.

No one. The street behind her was empty, save for a few distant cars and pedestrians.

Her heart raced as she turned back, walking faster now, nearly breaking into a jog. She couldn’t shake the feeling, no matter how hard she tried. The shadows felt alive, watching her, waiting for her to let her guard down. And it was getting harder and harder to convince herself that it was just paranoia.

When she finally reached her apartment, she slammed the door shut behind her, locking it quickly. Her hands were shaking as she leaned against the door, trying to calm her breathing.

It’s over. You’re home. He’s not here. You’re safe.

But even as she said the words, she didn’t fully believe them. Every creak of the apartment, every shadow cast by the dim evening light seemed to take on a new, more sinister meaning. She jumped at the slightest movement, her nerves frayed beyond reason.

As she sat down on the couch, she glanced at the window, half-expecting to see Aegon’s face staring back at her from the street below. But it was empty, just the soft glow of streetlights outside.

He’s not watching you, she repeated to herself, her voice barely a whisper. He’s not watching you.

But the creeping feeling of being observed refused to leave, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that somewhere, somehow, Aegon was watching—waiting for the right moment to make his next move.

A week had passed since their last session, but it felt like months to Y/N. Every day, her unease grew, festering like a wound that refused to heal. The feeling of being watched never fully left her; shadows felt longer, eyes sharper. No matter how much she told herself it was just in her head, there was always a faint whisper of doubt in the back of her mind.

Now, sitting in her office once again, facing the man who had been haunting her thoughts, she forced herself to breathe. Aegon was different today. His usual agitation, the relentless tapping of his leg and biting of his nails, was absent. Instead, he sat eerily still, his eyes fixed on the wall to her left, as if he was watching something that she couldn’t see. His lips moved faintly, a soft, tuneless whisper escaping them. She strained her ears to catch it but could only make out fragments of sound—a hum, almost like a lullaby.

The silence in the room felt thick, oppressive, and she had to fight the urge to shift in her seat, to break the suffocating quiet.

I have to ask, she told herself, steeling her nerves. You have to confront him about last week. You can’t let him think he can do whatever he wants.

She took a deep breath and spoke, trying to keep her voice calm, even though her heart was pounding in her chest. "Aegon, last time we spoke, you mentioned something… odd. You said I looked good last night… in my pajamas." Her voice faltered slightly at the memory, but she forced herself to continue. "I need to ask, what did you mean by that?"

Aegon didn’t respond. He didn’t even seem to hear her. His eyes remained glued to the wall, his lips still moving faintly, whispering that strange song to himself. His hands rested on his knees, the skin pale and bruised, nails ragged from relentless chewing.

"Aegon?" she pressed, her voice tightening as her nerves frayed. "What did you mean?"

He stopped humming, but his gaze remained unfocused, distant, as if he were somewhere far away. After what felt like an eternity of silence, he finally spoke, his voice flat, devoid of any emotion. "Sunfyre died this week."

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. "Your… your cat?"

Aegon nodded slowly, still staring at the wall. "He was my only friend. The only one who understood." His voice was monotone, lifeless, as though the words were being dragged out of him.

"I’m… I’m sorry to hear that," Y/N said cautiously, watching his expression for any sign of reaction. But there was nothing. His face remained blank, his eyes never leaving the invisible point on the wall.

"He was beautiful," Aegon continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "Golden fur. Like the sun. That’s why I called him Sunfyre. He was always warm. Always there."

Y/N swallowed hard, unsure how to respond. There was something deeply unsettling about the way Aegon spoke—as if he was detached from the world around him, floating somewhere she couldn’t reach.

"And now," he murmured, his voice taking on a strange, almost dreamy quality, "he’s gone. And there’s just… noises." He finally blinked, but his gaze remained distant, as if the room had become too small for him. "The noises never stop."

"What… what noises?" Y/N asked cautiously, her fingers gripping the armrests of her chair, trying to steady herself. Something in the pit of her stomach twisted.

"Them," Aegon replied vaguely, tilting his head slightly as if listening for something. "The whispers. The sounds in the walls. They’re everywhere now, you know? After Sunfyre… they got louder. He used to keep them away, but now there’s nothing. Just them. Always talking. Always laughing." His face twitched for the briefest moment, as if suppressing a shiver.

Y/N’s heart started to race again, an icy chill creeping down her spine. "Aegon… have you… have you spoken to anyone about these noises? Has this been happening for a long time?"

"They’ve always been there," he said in the same flat, detached voice. "But it’s worse now. It’s like they’re closer. Watching me all the time. Telling me things." His eyes, still glued to the wall, seemed to glaze over. "I try not to listen, but sometimes… sometimes they make sense."

Her throat felt dry, but she forced herself to ask, "What do they tell you?"

Aegon’s lips curled into a slow, unsettling smile. It was the first time he’d smiled since he entered the room, and it was chilling. "They tell me the truth. About everything. About you."

Her blood ran cold at his words, her mind racing as she tried to keep her expression neutral. "What… what do you mean, Aegon?"

"They tell me how beautiful you are," he whispered, his eyes still locked on that invisible point on the wall. "How you care about me. How you don’t want me to leave. They tell me how you wear that soft panty to bed. The one with the little flowers on it."

Her heart stopped. How does he know? How?

She felt light-headed, her vision blurring at the edges as panic surged through her veins. "Aegon… how do you know what I wear?"

He didn’t answer. Instead, he tilted his head again, listening, as though someone was whispering in his ear. Then, with an eerie calmness, he said, "The voices see everything."

Y/N’s hands trembled as she gripped the chair tighter. "Aegon, I need you to focus. What do you mean the voices see everything?"

"They watch. They’re always watching," he replied, finally turning his head to face her, his gaze locking onto hers. His eyes were wide, unblinking, and filled with a strange, manic intensity that made her heart lurch in fear. "Just like I do. Just like I watch."

The room suddenly felt much smaller, the walls closing in around her. She couldn’t breathe. She wanted to run, to leave, but her legs felt frozen in place.

"Sunfyre used to keep them away," Aegon continued, his voice a low murmur now. "But he’s gone. Now there’s just me. And you."

She couldn’t speak. Her chest tightened, her thoughts a jumble of fear and confusion. She had to end the session. She had to get out.

But before she could move, the clock on the wall chimed, signaling the end of their time.

Aegon stood up slowly, still smiling, his eyes never leaving her. "I’ll see you next week," he said softly, his voice dripping with a sickening sweetness.

And with that, he walked out of the room, leaving Y/N sitting in her chair, frozen in place, the echoes of his words reverberating in her mind.

The voices see everything.

The second Aegon left her office, she felt the walls pressing in, the whispers of doubt clawing at her. She packed up quickly, her hands trembling as she stuffed her notebook into her bag and threw on her coat. All she wanted—needed—was to get out.

By the time she reached her apartment, her fingers shook as she fumbled with her keys, her heart still hammering in her chest. As soon as she was inside, she slammed the door shut and bolted it, leaning her back against the wood as she tried to steady her breathing.

It’s just in your head, she told herself, her voice shaky and uncertain. He’s just a patient. He’s just trying to get under your skin. He’s not watching you… he’s not.

But the fear lingered. His words replayed in her mind, twisting around her thoughts like a poison.

With trembling hands, she pulled out her phone and dialed the number she knew by heart. It only took two rings before she heard the familiar voice on the other end.

“Hey, babe,” her boyfriend, Jacob, answered. His tone light and warm. “Everything okay?”

“No…” Y/N’s voice broke as the word slipped out. “Can you come over? Please. I—I need you.”

He didn’t hesitate. “I’ll be right there.”

The next twenty minutes felt like an eternity. She paced around her apartment, trying to shake off the weight pressing down on her chest. She kept checking the windows, the corners of the room, every shadow stretching a little too far, every creak of the floorboards making her jump.

When the knock finally came, she practically ran to the door. As soon as she opened it, she fell into his arms, her body trembling with the weight of it all.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Jacob murmured, holding her tightly. His hand gently stroked her hair as he guided her back inside, shutting the door behind them. “I’m here. What happened?”

She pulled back just enough to look at him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “It’s… it’s Aegon. My patient. He—he said these things and I don’t know, it’s just… he knows things, things he shouldn’t know.”

Her voice broke as she recounted the details, her words spilling out in a frantic rush. She told him everything—Aegon’s strange behavior, his fixation, the way he talked about her. The voices. The watching.

Jacob listened, his face calm and reassuring as he nodded. “Babe, I think you’re just stressed. This guy… he’s messing with you because he knows it’ll get to you.”

“I don’t know…” she whispered, wiping at her eyes. “It felt so real.”

“I know, I know it did.” He pulled her close, resting his chin on the top of her head. “But you’re letting him get in your head. He’s trying to make you scared, but you can’t let him win, okay?”

She nodded against his chest, her tears soaking into his shirt. “You’re right. You’re right… it’s just in my head.”

“That’s all it is,” he said softly, his hands running soothingly down her back. “Just some creepy guy trying to push your buttons. But you’re stronger than that. You can handle it.”

His calm, rational voice slowly chipped away at the terror inside her. She breathed deeply, letting herself believe his words, clinging to them like a lifeline. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I needed that.”

“I’m here,” he whispered back, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Always.”

The tension in her chest began to unravel as she melted into his embrace. Slowly, the fear that had gripped her all week loosened its hold. He was right. Aegon was just trying to get under her skin. Nothing more.

He pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on her shoulders. “How about we forget all about this guy, huh? Let’s just relax.”

She nodded, letting out a shaky breath. “Yeah… yeah, that sounds good.”

Without another word, he took her hand and led her toward the bathroom. The warm steam from the shower enveloped them as they stepped inside, the water cascading over their skin, washing away the remnants of the day’s tension.

He pulled her closer, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. She responded, her hands sliding up his chest, the heat of the water matching the growing warmth between them. His touch was gentle but sure, his hands slowly roaming over her body as he deepened the kiss.

In that moment, the world outside didn’t matter. Not Aegon, not the fear, not the shadows that had haunted her all week. There was only him, the steady reassurance of his presence.

As they moved to the bed, their wet skin still warm from the shower, he kissed her neck, his hands sliding between her legs, slowly caressing her. She gasped softly, her body responding to the comfort and distraction he offered.

He kissed her deeply, and as his hands roamed over her, she closed her eyes, letting herself forget everything. For just a moment, she let herself believe that everything was okay.

The weight of Jacob's arm draped over her gave Y/N a sense of temporary calm, her mind finally lulled into a fragile state of rest after the events of the week. The sheets clung to their bodies, still damp from the shared heat, their limbs intertwined in a way that made her feel, for the first time in days, safe. Protected.

But that safety shattered in an instant.

A loud crash from the other side of the apartment jolted them awake. The sound of breaking glass ripped through the silence like a scream, sharp and sudden. Y/N shot up in bed, her heart pounding so fast it felt like it would burst out of her chest. Her boyfriend sat up beside her, his hand instinctively reaching for her.

"What the hell was that?" he whispered, his voice low, urgent.

"IーI don't know," Y/N stammered, already pulling the blanket around her naked body, her hands trembling as she clutched the fabric tightly. Fear crawled up her spine like a cold hand, squeezing her chest. Something was wrong. She could feel it.

Jacob swung his legs over the side of the bed, grabbing a nearby lamp as a makeshift weapon. "Stay behind me," he said, his voice grim as he stood, leading the way out of the bedroom.

They crept down the hallway, the air thick with tension, their breaths shallow and uneven. The soft click of the floorboards under their feet was deafening in the oppressive silence that followed the crash. Y/N tightened the blanket around her, the fabric dragging across the floor as she followed behind, her senses on high alert, every shadow on the walls seeming to twist and warp into something sinister.

The moment they stepped into the living room, the metallic tang of blood hit her like a punch to the gut. She froze.

"Oh my God..." her boyfriend whispered, the words barely audible, as his gaze swept over the scene before them.

Doves. Dead doves, strewn across the floor like discarded dolls. Their once-beautiful white feathers were soaked in blood, their delicate wings from their bodies, limbs twisted at unnatural angles. Some of them were headless, their necks bent at grotesque angles, the floor slick with their blood. Their wings were now broken, shredded, discarded in small, crumpled heaps.

The smell was overwhelming, suffocating. The stench of death and blood filled the air, thick and coppery, clinging to their skin like a second layer. Y/N gagged, one hand flying to her mouth as bile rose in her throat. Her eyes were wide with horror as she stared at the carnage before her.

It wasn't just the doves.

The walls were splattered with blood- thick, dark red streaks of it, smeared in long, jagged lines. Words. Horrible, terrifying words written in the blood of the doves.

"MINE"

"LEAVE"

"ALWAYS WATCHING"

The writing was erratic, desperate, the letters dripping down the walls like some kind of twisted arning. The word “MINE" was repeated over and over again, sometimes scrawled so large it stretched from floor to ceiling, other times tiny, scratched into the plaster as if done by someone who had lost control.

The words clawed at her brain, a primal panic bubbling up from the depths of her mind. They weren't just words-they were a threat, a message, twisted and dark, filled with rage. Her chest tightened, her breath coming in shallow gasps as her eyes scanned the room, wild and terrified.

"What the fuck.." her boyfriend whispered, his voice trembling now, his grip tightening around the lamp. "What the fuck is this?"

Y/N's legs were shaking, her knees threatening to buckle beneath her as she stumbled backward. Her eyes darted to the window, and that's when she saw him.

A figure in the shadows, standing just outside the glass, watching her.

Aegon.

His pale, hollow face was half-hidden by the darkness, but his eyes一those wild, burning eyes一were locked onto hers, unblinking. There was something feral in the way he stood, the way his lips twisted into a sickening smile as he stared at her, his head tilted at a strange, unnatural angle, like a predator stalking its prey.

She opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out. Her throat was dry, her voice stolen by the sheer terror of the moment. Her body felt frozen, paralyzed, unable to move, unable to breathe.

Her boyfriend's voice cut through the fog of her panic. "What is it? What do you see?"

She tore her eyes away from the window, grabbing his arm with trembling hands. "He's here" she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath. "He's outside... it's him..."

Her boyfriend whipped his head toward the window, but by the time he looked, Aegon was gone. The shadowy figure had vanished as quickly as it had appeared, leaving nothing but the echo of his presence behind.

"I don't see anything," he said, his voice laced with confusion andfear. “There's no one there."

"No-no, I saw him!" Y/N insisted, her voice rising with hysteria. "He was there! I swear to God, he was right there, watching us!"

He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her as she trembled violently. "It's okay, it's okay. We'll call the cops. Someone broke in, this... this is some fucked-up shit, but we'll figure it out. He's not here anymore."

She nodded weakly, her mind spinning with confusion and terror. Her eyes kept darting back to the window, expecting to see those cold, unblinking eyes staring back at her. But the space was empty now, just an expanse of darkness and the dull glow of streetlights outside.

Jacob pulled out his phone and dialed the police, his voice low and urgent as he explained the situation. Y/N barely heard him, her thoughts swirling in a chaotic whirlwind of fear and disbelief.

The words on the walls seemed to pulse in the corner of her vision, the blood dripping down in slow, thick rivulets: MINE. LEAVE.

Her stomach twisted into knots, her entire body shaking as she collapsed into the nearest chair, her legs giving out beneath her. The doves lay scattered around her feet, their lifeless eyes staring up at her, empty and soulless.

She couldn't escape it.

No matter how hard she tried to convince herself it wasn't real, that Aegon wasn't capable of such madness, the truth was there-painted in blood across her walls.

This wasn't just in her head. This was real. Too real.

“There’s not much we can do without evidence,” one of the officers had said, his voice neutral but with an edge of doubt. “But we can check on him, just to ease your mind.”

And so, at 3 AM, Y/N, Jacob, and the two officers found themselves standing outside the grand Targaryen estate. The imposing house loomed before them, bathed in the glow of the moon, its towering facade as cold and uninviting as the man who lived inside. Y/N’s heart was pounding in her chest, her skin crawling with unease as they rang the bell.

It didn’t take long for the door to open.

Alicent stood in the doorway, her face pinched with confusion and irritation, her robe wrapped tightly around her. She looked from the officers to Y/N and her boyfriend, then back again. Her eyes narrowed slightly.

"Officers," Alicent greeted politely, though her voice held an edge of irritation. "May I help you?"

Y/N’s voice shook as she stepped forward. “It’s Aegon. He’s been stalking me—he came to my apartment tonight. He left… dead birds everywhere, and he wrote on the walls with blood. He’s been following me. Watching me.”

“I’m sorry, but what is this about?” Alicent’s eyes flicked between Y/N, her boyfriend, and the officers. “This must be a misunderstanding.”

“No, it’s not a misunderstanding!” Y/N yelled, her voice breaking as tears welled up in her eyes. “He broke into my apartment. There were doves—dead doves—and blood… He’s been following me, watching me! He’s dangerous!”

Her boyfriend squeezed her hand gently, trying to pull her back, but she yanked away, pointing toward the door. “You have to believe me! Aegon is sick—he needs to be locked up! He’s not right in the head!”

Alicent’s face hardened. “That’s impossible. Aegon’s been here all night.”

The officers exchanged uneasy glances, unsure how to proceed.

Alicent’s eyes flicked to the officers, her mouth pressed into a thin line. “My son would never do something like that. He’s not… unwell. He’s just dealing with some personal things.”

Y/N’s heart hammered against her ribcage as rage and fear bubbled inside her, her voice rising as she lost control. “He’s a fucking psycho, and he’s trying to ruin my life! He’s stalking me, and you’re just covering for him!”

“Ma’am,” one of the officers cut in, stepping forward to intervene, “let’s all remain calm. We’re here to investigate, but we need to speak to Aegon himself.”

At that moment, the sound of footsteps echoed down the grand staircase.

Aegon appeared, descending slowly, rubbing his eyes as though he had just woken from a peaceful slumber. He wore a loose-fitting T-shirt and pajama pants, his blonde hair mussed, his expression calm, and his movements casual, almost lazy. He looked nothing like the manic, disturbed man Y/N had seen just hours before.

“Is everything alright?” Aegon asked, his voice quiet, soft, laced with concern. His eyes scanned the group, lingering on Y/N for a moment before turning to the officers. “What’s going on?”

Y/N felt a wave of nausea wash over her. How could he look so normal? She knew what he was—she had seen him, heard his madness—but now, he was playing the part of the innocent. She could feel herself unraveling, her emotions spilling out uncontrollably.

Her blood boiled at the sight of his calm, innocent facade. He wasn’t the same Aegon she had sat across from in therapy—the one who whispered disturbing things and stared at her with dark, empty eyes. This Aegon seemed so harmless, almost apologetic, as if none of the horrors from earlier could be traced back to him.

"Do you know this woman, sir?" one of the officers asked, gesturing to Y/N, who was on the verge of collapsing under the weight of it all.

Aegon blinked slowly, his expression softening into something almost pitiful. “Yes, she's…my therapist," he said, his voice low and even, a hint of sadness laced into his words. "But…I'm not really sure why she’s here.”

One of the officers stepped forward. “Sir, we’re here following a report. This woman has made some serious claims about your involvement in an incident tonight. We just need to ask you a few questions.”

Aegon’s face contorted into an expression of confusion, concern knitting his brow as he blinked at the officers. “I don’t know what she’s talking about,” he said, his voice even, smooth. “I’ve been here all night. I haven’t left the house.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, her eyes going wide. “What? No—no, don’t act like this! You know exactly what you did, Aegon! You’ve been following me! You were in my apartment tonight! I saw you!”

Aegon shook his head slowly, his eyes filled with what looked like genuine confusion. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding. I was home all night. I would never do something like that.” He turned to the officers. “I’ve been going through a hard time. I recently…broke up with my girlfriend, and I started seeing Y/N to help me deal with the depression. But…I don’t know where all of this is coming from.”

“He’s lying!” Y/N screamed, stepping forward, her whole body shaking with anger. “He’s making it all up! He’s dangerous—he’s not the person you think he is!”

Aegon didn’t flinch. Instead, he stepped closer to the officers, his face calm, composed, but his voice took on a vulnerable tone. “I think… I think maybe she’s upset because I didn’t reciprocate her feelings.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in horror. “What the fuck are you talking about? That’s not true!”

Aegon glanced at the officers, feigning embarrassment. “She…she made some advances during our sessions. I told her that it wasn’t appropriate, but I think she may have misinterpreted our relationship. Maybe she’s just mad that I didn’t…you know, return her feelings.”

Y/N’s world spun. The rage and helplessness surged inside her like a storm, the bile rising in her throat. “That’s a lie! You’re lying! You need to stop lying!” She lunged forward, her hands reaching for Aegon in a desperate attempt to stop him from spinning the truth any further, but her boyfriend grabbed her, pulling her back.

“Stop it, Y/N!” he pleaded, holding her tightly as she fought to break free. “Just stop!”

Aegon’s face twisted into something almost sad. “I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want to ruin her reputation, but…I’m worried about her. I think she’s struggling with some personal issues, and that’s why she’s saying all of this.”

The officers looked back at Y/N, their expressions unreadable, but she could feel their judgment. It was like a weight pressing down on her chest, suffocating her. They didn’t believe her. No one believed her.

“You’re fucking sick!” Y/N screamed, her voice cracking as tears streamed down her face. “You should be in a mental hospital! You—” She was hysterical now, her words a broken mess of sobs and fury. “You did this! You—”

“Ma’am, we need you to calm down,” one of the officers said sternly, stepping between her and Aegon. “We’ll handle this, but we need you to calm down.”

“I’m telling the truth!” Y/N cried, her voice raw and desperate. “He’s dangerous! He’s going to hurt me! He’s—”

But no one was listening. Not her boyfriend, not the police, and certainly not Alicent, who stood behind her son, a look of quiet satisfaction on her face as she watched the scene unfold.

Aegon rubbed his eyes again, stifling a yawn as if all of this was just an inconvenience, just a bad dream he would soon wake from. “I just want to go back to bed,” he said softly, looking at the officers with pleading eyes. “I promise I’m not who she says I am. I just…I just want to move on.”

The officers nodded, exchanging a glance before turning back to Y/N.

“I think it’s best if we leave now, ma’am,” one of them said gently, but firmly. “We’ll follow up on this, but…for now, you should go home and try to get some rest.”

Y/N’s heart sank. She had lost. She had been defeated by his lies, by his calm demeanor, by the illusion of normalcy he had created.

Her boyfriend wrapped an arm around her, guiding her back toward the door. Her legs felt like lead, her body drained of all strength, her mind clouded with fear. But as they stepped outside, she turned back for one last look at Aegon.

And that’s when she saw it.

His eyes were wide now, bright and burning with a terrifying intensity. He stared at her, unblinking, a slow, twisted smile creeping onto his lips. And then, with a single finger pressed against his lips, he made a silent gesture.

Shhh...

Should I make a part 3?

@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.