#I realized he sleeps with the foot of his bed against the wall and his head facing the doorway.

[nastybuckybarnes]

Kingdom Fall  -  Three

Pairing: Farmboy!Bucky X Princess!Reader

Summary: When an invading Kingdom forces you to flee your home, you find yourself stranded in an enemy kingdom on a farm, and the farmboy is nothing like you thought he would be.

Warnings: Violence, Angst, Fluff, Injuries, mentions of SA, Mentions of Murder, 

Word Count: 2.3K

A/n: baddaboom shes posting another one look at me go i havent posted this much in YEARS its so strange being back. As Lisa Rowe once said ‘its good to be home!’

~*~

You awake the next morning feeling peaceful and well-rested, a welcome ache between your legs that reminds you of the night prior. 

You reach across the bed, a smile finding your lips when you feel the warm body of the man beside you. 

Peeling your eyes open, you push yourself into a seated position and look at him with nothing but softness in your gaze. 

“Good morning,” he whispers, his voice thick with sleep.

You lean forward and place a gentle kiss to his lips. 

“Good morning to you,” you reply softly. 

You roll onto your side and lightly trace over the muscles covering his chest, content to spend this time with him.

As if hearing your thoughts, the Gods decide to shatter your peace. 

There’s a harsh knock on the door that has ice shooting through your veins. 

James’ eyes dart from you to the front door, and then he’s pushing to his feet. 

“Stay here,” he murmurs, tugging on his trousers and heading toward the door. He picks up his tunic along the way, but doesn’t bother fully buttoning it. 

You slowly rise to your feet and tug on your white slip, eyes darting around the room for your sword, only for you to realize that it’s currently in the kitchen, leaning against the wall. 

If you move quickly enough, you can grab it now and hide behind the wall before he gets the door open. 

With quick feet, you do exactly that, following silently after James and grabbing your sword, then pressing your back against the wall, out of sight. 

He pulls the door open, brows frown together. 

“I’m looking for a woman. Has she come by here?” A man asks. He wears the garb of a knight, though not one of this kingdom. 

James doesn’t know much about you, but he knows that he never wants to put you in danger. And if the man standing before him means to harm you, he won’t let that happen. 

“No, I apologize,” James says easily, going to close the door only for the blond on the other end to stop it with his foot. 

His eyes are trained on the daggers on the table. More importantly, the gems decorating the hilt. 

James follows his gaze, but by the time the pieces click in his mind, it’s too late. The stranger is forcing his way into James’ little house. 

“You have seen her. Where is she?” He demands, unsheathing his sword and aiming it at the brunet. 

James raises his hands in surrender, taking slow steps back. 

“I know not who you speak of,” he insists, though he feels increasingly nervous. 

“The woman of which those daggers belong. Where is she? I will not ask again.”

James stumbles over the uneven floors as the blond swipes his sword, falling to the floor as the blade bites into his bicep. 

“Then I suppose you will have to kill me,” He says simply, though his heart is in his chest. 

“No!” You exclaim, darting out from behind the wall and sliding between the men, sword raised right as the blond swings his down. 

The two swords clash and the brunet behind you winces at such proximity to death. 

The blond’s eyes widen at the sight of you standing before him in nothing more than your nightdress. 

“Princess?” He asks, withdrawing his sword immediately.

“You will fall back,” you command, rising to your full height and glaring at him. 

His brows pull together, and he looks at the man on the ground in confusion. 

“This man has lied about your whereabouts. He knows you are here, he cannot be trusted.”

“You will stand down. A life for a life, this man saved me. I owe him a debt.”

Steve glares at you and you match the look, not backing down. 

“I could order it,” you remind him, “though we are not on my land, you are sworn to obey me.”

He grinds his teeth together but slowly takes a step back, huffing out a breath of disbelief. 

“Go check to make sure you weren’t followed. Secure the area,” you order, turning your back to him to signal the end of the conversation. 

You reach for James’ hand and help him to his feet, watching as he and Steve face off for a long moment. You turn to the blond and quirk your brow at him, waiting for him to obey your orders. 

Finally, he turns on his heel and marches outside, mumbling profanities the entire time. 

You turn back to the brunet and inspect the wound on his arm, a frown on your face at the idea of him being hurt because of you. 

“Princess?” He asks, a little stunned at the fact that you didn’t tell him you’re royalty. 

You sigh and lead him by the hand to the bathroom to clean and dress his wound. 

“It's not deep. It should heal fairly quickly,” you murmur, cleaning the wound on his arm and avoiding his eyes as you prepare to tell him the complete truth. 

“I’m Princess (Y/n) of Aresia. The third Eldest of Queen Cathana.”

His brows pull together at your words.

“Cathana the Cruel?” He asks, to which you nod. 

“Mother has many names, that being one of her most famous. It was given to her many years ago after she slaughtered the family of a man who raped my youngest sister.” You slowly bring your eyes to his. “I do not think her to be cruel for what she did. I think she was merciful, and those people were lucky that my older sister and I were not permitted to seek justice.”

He nods, entranced by the passion and fire in your eyes.

“Your King,” you sneer his title, “stormed out Kingdom. Set fire to the Palace, to the village. His aim is to take what never was meant to be his. And so I ran. I fled the city under order of the Queen. All my sisters did. We were to flee in different directions. I know not if any of them have survived. Steve... the man at the door... he is sworn to me. He has sacrificed many things to serve the royal guard, to serve me. One of the only men to ever be trusted by the royal family.”

As you explain it, it all makes so much more sense. 

He should’ve known, really. Given your clothes and your weapons and the way you carry yourself. It should’ve been obvious to him. 

“I have spent the days learning the lands, reading the maps. My sisters have fled across the continent, but I intend to reclaim what is mine. I would like to find them along the way, but I know not for how long I will be safe here.”

James shakes his head, reaching for you once you’ve finished tying the fabric around the wound on his arm.

“I would never do anything to put you in danger, that you must know,” he says, his voice borderline desperate. 

A small smile tugs at your cheeks and you nod, reaching up to hold his face gently in your hands. 

“I know that, James. But it is not you who I fear. Not anymore. Now that Steve is here, it is only a matter of time before your King realizes at least one of the Princesses is alive. I would not be surprised if he had his men searching the forests and the villages for me as we speak. I have enjoyed our time together, but I cannot stay any longer.”

His hands come up to cover yours on his face.

“Then I will go with you.”

You chuckle weakly and shake your head.

“My path surely leads to battle. You are not a warrior, James. I cannot put you in that sort of danger.”

He shakes his head, “I can learn. Have Steve teach me. I will swear an oath to you if I must, but I will not let you walk into battle without me by your side. I will follow you if I must, but I... I've only just found you, (Y/n). I will not lose you so soon.”

Your heart is warmed by his words and you sigh softly. 

“I suppose it would be helpful to have another warrior alongside us on our journey. And you know the lands better than myself and Steve. But if you are to join us, you must obey my commands.”

A small smirk finds his lips and he kisses the inside of your wrist. 

“I think last night is a good demonstration of how good I am at following orders.”

Heat blazes in your core at the memory and you shake your head at him. 

“Right. I will go find Steve and inform him that he will be training you,” you whisper, pulling out of his grip and heading toward the door. 

You tug on your dress on the way, a million thoughts swarming through your head as you make your way toward the blond soldier scouting the perimeter of the farm. 

“Steve,” You call, jogging over to him when he stops walking. 

“Yes, Princess?”

You step in front of him, looking up into his blue eyes.

“That is not how I wanted our reunion to go,” you murmur, reaching for his hand and holding it tightly in yours. 

“And how were you expecting it to go?” He questions, a single eyebrow raised. 

You look up at him then lunge into his arms, wrapping yourself around him tightly. 

He stumbles back a step then falls onto his back in the grass, arms wrapping around your protectively, always protecting you. 

“You’re alive,” you whisper, holding onto him as if he’ll disappear in an instant. He chuckles softly and maneuvers the two of you into a seated position, pulling you onto his lap and holding you against his chest. 

“I made you a promise, Princess,” he reminds you gently, rocking you side to side. 

You slowly pull away and look into his eyes, a thousand questions racing through your mind.

“Have you heard anything of my sisters? My mother? Do you know if there are any survivors?” 

He sighs heavily, smoothing your hair away from your face with one hand.

“I know that several of your sisters have survived, and your mother is being kept alive within the Palace. I know not how many members of the guard have survived, but I know they are scattered throughout the tunnels beneath Aresia and the surrounding forests.”

A weight lifts from your chest and you hug him tightly again. 

“Then there is hope,” you whisper. 

He chuckles and presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head, “So long as you are alive, Princess, hope will remain alive with you.”

You walk the perimeter of the farm with Steve, discussing all that you have learned and what you have planned so far, and he shares with you the information he was able to gather.

There’s a gathering of warriors not far from James’ farm. Steve had spent some time with them while hiding from the Lornillian guards. 

You turn to the blond when you approach the small house, holding his hands tenderly between your own. 

“James has offered to come with us. To fight alongside us. I have agreed.”

Steve blinks at you then laughs as if you told the funniest joke in the world. 

“What use have we for a farm boy? I doubt he can even wield a sword.”

You smile up at him, “which is why you shall instruct him.”

Suddenly the situation is not so funny to Steve.

“Me?”

You nod, “yes, you.”

“But-”

“We will need every sword we have, Steve. He is strong, and he is willing to fight. He has... protected me... been kind to me. I will not order you to do it, but I will let you know that it would mean a great deal to me if you would.”

He watches you for a long moment with those endless blue eyes before huffing a sigh. 

“I almost wish you had ordered it,” he murmurs, opening the door to the house and motioning for you to go inside. 

You nod gratefully and enter, smiling warmly at James.

He looks between you and Steve for a long moment before dropping his eyes to his hands, suddenly not so sure of himself. 

It’s obvious that there’s a history between the two of you, and anyone can tell how much you mean to the blond by the way he looks at you. 

How can James ever hope to compare to this warrior? Someone so strong and so brave. Willing to fight for you and die for you.

“We will begin your training tomorrow. We will use wooden staffs... branches or anything of the sort. You must learn to wield a sword and take a hit. Once you do, we will begin combat.”

Steve turns to you after speaking, his eyebrows pulled together, “when do you want to make for the tunnels? Meet with your people?”

You gnaw on your bottom lip for a moment, trying to contemplate the timeframe before you.

The longer you wait, the stronger their army will be. But it could also grant you a stronger army in the process. Give your people more time to gather themselves, gather supplies.

The Lornillian army may have the upper hand of the Palace, but you and your people know the grounds, and that is something that will be key to reclaiming what is rightfully yours. 

“We will remain for one more moon cycle. Then we will leave.” You turn to James again, reaching for his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“You do not have to join us. You have a duty here,” you whisper, looking deeply into his eyes. 

He nods, a small smile on his face. 

“I now have a duty to you, as well, Princess.”

Steve watches the exchange, his stomach flipping with unease. 

He does not like the way the farm boy looks at you. 

No one should be looking at you like that. No one but him.

[athenaholmesartistsguild]

All my Tarot Card designs

Pulled the 9 of Swords in a tarot reading recently and it inspired me to make my own card!

Check out the High-res version on my Patreon (for free!!!) Also it was available 2 days earlier than on Tumblr just letting you know kthxbyeeeeee

BTW. Hand lettering is harddddd. Just writing 'Blades' took for freaking ever! But I really like how it came out so worth in my opinion.

I tried something a little different with the shading, too! I incorporated some sharper, pen-and-ink type strokes because I like drawing squiggles to indicate tension. This wasn't initially intentional, but I think it also fits with the 'sharper' themes of the swords suit.

I did intentionally try to use cooler grays and whites for the shading. I wanted each suit to be distinct from the other visually so you could differentiate between them at a glance. The swords to me feel very cold and impersonal so I tried to make that come across in the actual art. I think I did a good job but lemme know lol.

Interpretations and my reasoning for choosing Kiryu for this card are below the cut so check those out if you're interested (I'd really appreciate it!!!)

The suffering depicted in the 9 of swords is rivaled only by that of the 3 of swords. The figure in this card is so consumed by their trauma, anxiety, fears, or worries (or even all 4) that it's nearly impossible to perceive the world outside of themselves; not in a selfish way, but rather due to the intensity of their pain.

The 9 of Swords is haunted by nightmares-- frequent reminders of their past: their mistakes, the ways they've been hurt, and the actions they could've taken to prevent all of this from happening in the first place. They've been so plagued by their thoughts that considering a future without this pain feels almost impossible.

With this card, we see the sheer power of the human mind at its most destructive. If this cycle is not broken, the 9 of Swords' pain will escalate to the 10 of Swords. This is not a sustainable cycle for anyone involved; changes must be made.

Reversed, we still see the pain depicted in the upright position, but there's a glimpse of a way out. While it's not easy to overcome your trauma or pain, the 9 of Swords at least has a desire to get out of this cycle-- to begin to heal. They've descended into their mind as far as they'd like and now they wish to venture outside themselves, back into the wider world.

Maybe they haven't healed yet, but they can at least hope that they can begin the process.

The design of this card was inspired mostly by the opening of Yakuza 2. Kiryu's plagued by the deaths of his family and is borderline suicidal because of this pain. He's having nightmares of their final moments and isn't able to be fully present in his daughter's life (Haruka's the one getting ready and cooking breakfast for the two of them).

When deciding on the background of this card, I wanted to try and depict the feeling of complete hopelessness that exists within this card. Normally, the Rider-Waite-Smith cards have backgrounds of varying complexity. I'd venture to say that the 9 of Swords is the only card where there isn't a background at all. Just the figure, their bed, and the swords, the constant reminder of their past. This person is literally incapable of seeing past their regrets and anxiety and fear because these emotions are so intense. It's haunting, in a way.

I chose to have the swords in this card pointed at Kiryu because a common theme in his grief, I feel, is that he feels that he's the one at fault. He believes that had he not gotten involved, his loved ones wouldn't be suffering right now. So the swords, rather than being passive elements lingering above, are sharpened, dangerous. They're ready to get retribution for the people that have been hurt. Unlike Kiryu, they'll inflict pain and feel no remorse.

On a lighter note, we see periods in Kiryu's life where he's able to somewhat escape his thoughts and attempt to make a happier life for himself, namely when he's running Morning Glory. This is the one time in Kiryu's life where we see him happy and fulfilled. He's still experiencing the effects of his past. He still has the habits he developed in response to this past, but he's trying to create a better life. One that he can share with his family.

What's important to remember about the 9 of Swords is that your thoughts don't have to be real. They don't have to dictate the course of your life. While it can feel like there's no escaping your pain, know that help is out there and there are others that are willing to help you.

[gracexthoughts]

intrusion 

jacaerys velaryon x wife!reader

warnings; assault, blood and fighting, break in, cursing, pretty typical for canon universe level of violence, no use of y/n or character description, men being creeps summary; from this request. two intruders, sent by the greens, stumble upon you in their search for rhaenyra and decide to take you as their prize instead a/n; i love this request sm and wrote this kinda fast so apologies for any mistakes. please do not read if any of the above is triggering to you. i put *** on either end of the physical attack on reader if you want to avoid it

The night has been restless for you. A storm lashes at the island Dragonstone towers over; rain and lightning and thunder tearing at the walls of the keep, wind howling against the window pains. Your husband, Jacaerys, is still gone after being sent to treat with some ally. He has yet to return, and you cannot help the worry that has wormed its way into your chest. The storm has held him up, you repeat to yourself, sighing as you toss in bed to lay on your back. Even though you’ve only been married for a few moons, the bed feels too large without his warmth next to you. 

Lighting illuminates the room, and the door to your chambers bursts open as thunder claps, covering the sound of the wood banging against the stone. You bolt up, hoping to see Jacaerys, but instead, you are met with two pairs of unfamiliar eyes. 

Two men stand in the doorway of your chambers, one tall and skinny, a white scar across his face shining in the torchlight, and the other short with muscles pushing against the seams of his clothing. Fear seizes your heart as they examine the room. “Who are you?” you demand sharply, attempting to cover the fear in your voice with the commanding tone you hear Queen Rhaenyra use so often. 

“That’s not the bloody Whore Queen,” the stout man grumbles in a Flea Bottom accent, lowering the torch slightly. Whore Queen, they called your mother-by-law. The Greens sent them, you realize, your heartbeat increasing its pace.

“That’s the bastard prince’s bitch,” the taller one sneers, kicking the door closed and stalking forward.

“Where’s your princeling at, girly?” the other coos, placing the torch in the sconce near the door. As they come closer, you scoot away on the bed, their eyes like rabid animals circling prey. 

“The library,” you lie, “He’s due to come to bed any minute.” Your hand slowly moves under the pillow behind you, searching for the small dagger Jacaerys insisted you sleep with since the attack on his mother by Ser Arryk. The men look at each other, evil smiles splitting their faces. 

“Just came from the library,” the shorter man sneers, stepping up onto the platform the bed sits on. 

“No bastards there. Seems like you’re all alone,” the tall man coos, biting his lip as he stands at the foot of the bed. Your fingers close around the cool hilt of the dagger as the blankets of the bed are ripped off you. You don’t move, keeping the dagger hidden under the pillows, even as the men scan your figure, only clad in a silk nightdress. 

*** 

“Leave now, and the Queen and the Prince will reward you; I’ll ensure it,” you say, your voice beginning to quiver slightly in fear. 

“Oh, the Queen and Prince will reward us, alright, just not your lot,” the man at the foot of the bed smiles menacingly. “Hold her down.” The man at your side reaches out for you, and you slash at him with the dagger, managing a deep cut on his arm. The man stumbles back, a raging yell from his lips. 

“GUARDS! HELP!” You scream, trying to move to the left side of the bed, but your leg is pulled back, and your arm that holds the dagger is pinned down to your side by a heavy boot, a rough hand covering your mouth and muffling your screams. 

“Shut up, idiot,” the taller man grumbles to the other, who still wails, before turning back to you, “I heard you were a feisty one,” he laughs as he hovers above you, wrenching the dagger free and bringing it up to your face. 

“Little cunt, more like,” the man you cut grumbles, glaring at you as tears of fear blur your vision. 

“You’ll be fine. Help me with her, would ya?” The two men grab your arms and legs, dragging you from the bed. You cry out as you land on the hard stone floor.

“Shut up!” One of them growls behind you, pulling you up by your hair and covering your mouth. You squirm and fight as best as you can, but the men have the advantage and chuckle at your feeble attempts as they shove you up against the wall. You cry out again as your head connects with the wall and they begin tying your hands with rough rope as you pray silently to any god who will listen.

***

Before they can secure the ropes completely, blood sprays out of the taller man’s chest as a sword splits him in two. The hands on your limbs relent as the man is pulled off you, revealing Jacaerys, sword dripping with blood, face dark with rage and hair wet with rain. 

Jace tosses the man to the floor before his eyes turn predatorily to the stockier man who draws a short sword from his belt. You watch in shock as your husband engages with the man, attacking him with more vigor and bloodlust than you thought possible for the sweet man you know. You back away hurriedly and crouch in the corner of the room, desperately trying to get as far away from the fight as possible.

A hand pulls your attention from the fight, and you flinch away before turning to see the Queen, your mother-by-law, reaching for you. Her face is soft but urgent. She goes again for your hand, pulling you to her and helping you stand. She pulls you into her, taking care the shield you as gentle arms wrap around your shaking body, not caring that the blood on your front will stain her gown. You cling to her desperately, listening to her whispers of comfort, and turn your head to see Ser Lorrent pushing the intruder to his knees in front of the Prince, his blade to the man’s throat as more guards rush into the room. Jacaerys stands over the man menacingly, his chest rising and falling with his rapid breath, blood pooling from a gash on the intruder’s leg onto the stone floor. 

“Your friend is lucky I gave him a quick death,” Jacaerys growls, glaring at the man on the floor as he crouches down in front of him like a predator, “You won’t be so. I’ll be sure to send The Usurper a message with your head, once I’ve made you pay for touching my wife.” You’ve never seen such rage in your husband before; his usually so soft and sweet amber eyes now contorted with hatred, the flames from the torchlight reflecting in his eyes as if the fire is inside him. His sword drips with blood, mixing with the blood pool on the floor and yet there’s not a scratch on him. Rhaenyra squeezes you tightly for a moment before releasing you and stepping forward. 

“Take him to the dungeons, have two guards on duty at all times, and summon the maids,” commands the Queen to Ser Lorrent, who nods and drags the man from your chambers, a trail of blood in their wake. You watch, without moving from your corner, as Rhaenyra cups her son’s face before taking her leave and the guards, and Jacaerys turns to you; all the hardness in his gaze melted away and replaced by wide eyes full of concern. He speaks your name, his voice cracking slightly at the sight of you, and you throw yourself to him. His sword clatters to the ground as his muscular arms catch you, a hand cradling your head against his chest and the other wrapped around your waist tightly. Your knees give out as the shock leaves your veins, and the pair of you drop to the floor. 

“How did-” 

“The storm made the flight back harder than I expected. I was on my way up when I found a dead guard. They’d pushed the body behind a pillar, but I still saw it. I thought they’d come for Mother again, so I ran to her chambers first. When I saw her undisturbed, I just knew,” Jace explains softly, brushing your hair soothingly, his thumb wiping away tears and blood spatters from your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, my love. I should’ve been here. I should have come here first, I-I’m going to kill them all for laying a hand on you.”

Jacaerys’ mind is reeling and he’s sure he has never been so scared as he was when he found those men attacking his wife, his love, his heart. His more violent side, one he pushes down for the sake of decency, itches to storm down to the dungeons and torture the man who dared hurt you, to make him pay for every second of pain he caused you, to fly to King’s Landing himself to find those responsible for this night and add their blood to his blade. But you need him more in this moment and he is ever at your will.

“S’not your fault,” you say softly, your voice weaker than you’d like. Jace opens his mouth, but two maids enter the room, clearly having just been woken, eyes wide at the state of your chambers. 

“Pardon, my prince, my lady,” the elder of the two says softly, dark blue eyes full of sympathy. Your husband helps you stand, his arm staying protectively around your shoulder. 

"Let us wash and try to find sleep," he says softly to you before turning to ask one of the maids to make the bed in your old chambers and run you a bath. Jacaerys wraps his dark red and still-damp cape around your shoulders before leading you down the halls to the chambers you lived in before your marriage. The familiar surroundings comfort you as Jace leads you to the couch before starting a fire in the hearth.

Soon, the bed has been made up and a hot bath drawn and your husband dismisses the maids, thanking them for their help at such late hours. Jacaerys gently helps you undress and step into the bath. Kneeling outside, he helps wash away the night's evidence, softly sponging the blood from your skin and wringing it from your hair. You lean into his soft touch, finding comfort in his presence and care. Few words are spoken between you as he cares for you but in this moment, his presence is all you want. You can sense the anger in Jace lingering under his skin, needling at his mind, but he stays by your side, whispering promises that he won’t leave you, that he���ll always protect you; your wellbeing more important to him than anything else in the world.

Once you are dressed in a clean nightgown and all blood cleansed from both of you, the pair of you crawl into bed together, your head on his broad chest, allowing his heartbeat to lull you back into a sense of safety. It is not until the first rays of light begin to shine through the curtains that you both find sleep, but you do eventually, wrapped in the loving embrace of each other.

[rafesgfs]

leaked nudes — two

pt. 1

pairings: aaron hotchner x reader

summary: you just wanted penelope’s feedback on your nudes. its hard for her to do so when you send them to your boss instead.

word count: 2k (another short one)

warnings: the word panties, stealing of shirts, reader checking out aaron’s ass, a mention of leonado dicaprio, mentions of suicidal thoughts

The next few days for him is torture.

Every time he looks at you, or even in your general vicinity, he’s reminded of the images he can never forget. Not that he’s been able to stop thinking about them, in the shower, in his bed, in his office, in the field—it was consuming him and he didn’t mind.

Aaron had resorted to wearing his darker suits, hoping they’d conceal his raging boner (an instance that only happened around you or when he thinks of you or when anyone even speaks your name). Unfortunately for exhausted cock, you noticed the change and complimented him on it, leaving him to lock himself in his hotel room and rub out a quick one.

After another unsuccessful day, Aaron sends the team back to the hotel, following them a few minutes afterward. He groans inwardly as he sees you coming out of the bathroom, knowing well enough he’d have to drive you to the hotel as the team had taken two of the SUVs back. He didn’t think he could stand another second alone with you without wanting to pin you against the wall and fuck you until the whole city knew his name.

You smiled at him as he opened the door for you, and he thinks he may develop heart palpitations with the number of times you make his heart stop—Aaron is certain one of these days his heart won’t continue and you may literally kill him with your smile.

Despite his cock stirring in his pants, the drive back to the hotel was lovely, though he can confidently say any time with you is divine. Though, he does rear-end the car in front of them when you unbutton your top, showing a white tank top under. Even worse when the seat belt tightens around you when he steps on the brake hard, causing it to accentuate your breasts, stuffed between them. He thinks he’s finally gone insane, being jealous over a seatbelt.

He opens the door for you once again, getting out of the car and the doors to the hotel. Aaron wonders if you can hear his heart beating wildly out of his chest when you link your arm through his, leaning slightly against him as you walk to the elevators.

Once you get to your room, you sigh loudly, taking off your tank top and throwing it on the unmade bed. You were feeling the effects of being unable to solve the case and being in Kansas City was like being stuck in an elevator running out of air.

After taking a shower, you realize your go bag was running out of clothes as you’ve been here for nearly a week. You were too tired to do laundry in the hotel’s laundry room and you knew Spencer was sleeping by now so you quickly wrapped a towel around your body and walked next door to Aaron’s room.

Knocking, you secured the towel around you, chuckling at the thought of flashing your boss. When he opens the door, he’s met with the sight of you in just the towel, nearly slamming the door close at the thought.

Smiling sheepishly at him, you said. “Hey, can I borrow another shirt? I don’t really want to wear another dirty one and I haven’t done laundry yet.”

It takes him a few seconds to answer, his eyes never leaving your face. Aaron nods, opening his door further. “Um, yeah, of course. Let me just see what I have.”

You step a foot inside his room as he gets a shirt from his duffel bag, checking out his ass as he had taken his blazer off, your view now unconstructed. You wanted nothing more than to have his belt wrapped around your hands instead of his pants.

Aaron gets a shirt from his bag, handing it to you. It’s blue and the material is rather thin from its usage. “Is this alright?”

“Yeah, thanks again, Hotch.” you flash him a grin, walking out of the room. “I promise not to steal this one like the others.”

He chuckles, waving it off. “You can steal as many of my shirts as you want.”

You laugh, opening your door. Truthfully, you liked his shirts better than any of yours. Most of them were faded but they still smelled like him and you often slept in one of them after stealing the first one. You preferred them to the clothing you’ve stolen from Spencer or Derek, though Emily’s hoodie was a game changer.

Thankfully, you didn't have to share rooms so you got dressed in Aaron’s large t-shirt and put on a pair of pink panties. Like the rest, the hem of the shirt fell down just below your ass, leaving you mostly covered.

Your phone buzzes as you get into bed, Penelope’s message causing you to chuckle.

Pen

I’ve been waiting not-so-patiently for these sexy pics.

Before joining the BAU, you had regularly sent nudes to the men on your roster, wanting nothing more than fun and compliments to boost your confidence. During a girl’s night, and after four shots of vodka, you admitted to Penelope you liked getting feedback on the pictures you took and in both your drunk stage, she had agreed to be one of your critics.

And while you slowly decreased your roster, Penelope was always the first person you sent them to, and she’d give you feedback based on how the picture was taken and what you were wearing. Multiple times she had asked where you’d gotten your lingerie.

So it wasn’t uncommon for you to send her nudes before you sent them to anyone. Not that you had anyone in mind to send this particular set of pictures to, but it was nice to get compliments from a friend after a long day. She was like your agent if you were famous, steering you in the right way.

Texting her you’d send them in a few minutes, you got ready to take several photos. Some included the bathroom mirror, some included you in Aaron’s shirt and two showed you completely naked. Inappropriate use of your boss’ t-shirt made the pictures hotter to you, though no one but you would know. You giggled at the thought of Aaron seeing you use his shirts in your nudes—that would be mortifying.

As if he could read your mind, your phone buzzed again, Aaron’s name popping up in the text notification. Clicking on the message, you saw he wanted to see pictures you had taken from the coroner of the most recent victim.

You’re about to send them to him when Penelope’s text pops up on the top of your screen, reminding you once again to send them. Grinning, you click on your naked images and send them before responding back to Aaron’s message about the dead body. As you click send, you put your phone on the bedside table and pick up the tv remote, putting on whatever the first show you came across.

Normally, Penelope would take about a minute to “study” the photos you’ve sent her but just as you turned the tv on, your phone buzzed, her text lighting up the screen. Frowning, you unlock your phone, confused by her text.

Pen

Ewww, why’d you send me the vic’s dead body???

Heart pounding, you tap on your messages with the blonde, heart dropping when you realize you sent her the pictures from the coroners instead of the promised nudes. You don’t bother to apologize to her when you see you’ve sent Aaron Hotchner six pictures.

And if you didn’t send Penelope your nudes …

Hands shaking you clicked on Aaron’s name, throwing your phone across the room after seeing a photo of your bare cunt in the message you sent him. It hits the wall, denting it slightly as you stare in its general direction, absolutely mortified.

What the actual fuck.

You rush towards your fallen phone, calling Penelope, face red and hands shaking. “Shit, shit, shit. Answer the phone.”

“Hey, when I mean send pictures–”

“I accidentally sent my nudes to Hotch.” you blurt out, plopping back on your bed.

“WHAT?”

Groaning, you banged your head on the mattress, wanting nothing more than to switch places with the corpse you took a picture of. “I meant to send them to you but I guess I switched you up by mistake—I don’t know, I’m really tired and I sent our boss pictures of my tits and pussy, Penelope!”

Silence meets your confession, and you only hear her breathing for a few seconds. “It’s … I don’t … What … I mean, it's not as bad as you’re thinking. Has he seen them yet?”

“How would I know?” you hissed. Pacing back and forth in your room, you bit your lip, worried. “Oh, my God. He’s so going to fire me, or worse: he’s going to want to talk to me about it instead of just ignoring it. OH, MY FUCK.”

Penelope chuckled quietly. “To be fair, they’re probably good pictures.”

“PENELOPE GARCIA.” you whisper-shouted, fidgeting with the hem of your—Aaron’s—shirt. Oh, how you wanted to crumble on your knees and die. “This isn’t like I accidentally sent them to Spence or Derek, I sent them to Aaron Hotchner. It’s like the worst-case scenario. I’d rather send my pussy to Rossi than Hotch.”

“Really? You’d rather send them to Rossi?” she questioned, amused and almost as mortified at the situation, though for different reasons.

“I’d rather send nudes to Rossi than Derek,” you confessed, running a hand through your hair. “At least with Rossi we can laugh it off but Derek would probably tease me about it until I do something more embarrassing. Oh, God, I’m so going to get fired. I might as well shoot my brains out before he tells me to come to his room to talk.”

“Or … you could go to his room and … you know,” Penelope replied, her tone flirty.

“Leonardo Dicaprio would date a woman over twenty-five years old before that happens, Pen.” you groaned, looking longly at the gun on your bedside table—not that you would actually consider it but, oh to be dead. “I’m actually going to die of embarrassment.”

Before she can reply, someone knocks on your door and you have a suspicion about who it is. You hurriedly say goodbye to the tech analysis, heart heavy as you walk to the door. You think about breaking the hotel window and jumping off from the fourth story but he knocks again, leaving you no choice but to open the door.

Aaron Hotchner stands on the other side, eyes crazed and shirt unbuttoned. You open your mouth to apologize, to make up an excuse, to do some damage control but it seems as if he has other ideas.

He takes a step forward, hands encasing your face as he kisses you. You freeze in shock, and he takes the opportunity to back you against the wall, a hand tilting your jaw and the other tangling in your hair. He bit your lip and you squeal quietly in surprise, his tongue slipping between your lips.

After a few seconds of trying to wrap your head around your boss kissing you, you kiss him back, closing your eyes as you enjoy his lips on yours. His hands drift down your back, squeezing your ass briefly before reaching the hem of your–his–shirt, pulling it up and exposing the pink panties you wore.

He pulls away, both of you breathing hard. Aaron glances down, smirking at the color of your thong before looking back at you, taking a step away and reluctantly taking his hands off of you. You don’t realize you’re whimpering, objecting.

“Do you want this?” he asks, eyes piercing and panting. He still wore his suit, but his shirt was half unbuttoned. You could see his chest peeking from them.

You nodded, taking a step closer to him, bringing you to his touch. “Yes.”

Aaron’s hands are immediately on you again, lips on yours as he whispered. “Good. Tonight, you’ll be filming my cock fucking your needy cunt instead of your fingers.”

a/n: i wanted to write smut but i gotta save my smut juices (ew) for bad ideas 2. also thank u to @callm3c0nfus3d and @gublersgibson for convincing me to do pt 2 :))))

[kyletogaz]

baby, it’s cold inside

for the #ghostchallenge - #101 - the heat goes out and it’s freezing

"dammit," you mutter as you toss and turn under your blanket, while trying and failing to get comfortable to no avail.

you're currently freezing your ass off, no thanks to the broken space heater sitting on the floor near your bed. the fucker actually had the nerve to stop working when you needed it the most.

there wasn't really anything you could do about it though, since you and simon were in the middle of fucking nowhere and there was only one working heater in the safe house. simon thought it was only fair that you take it, while promising you that he'd be fine because he runs hot. you asked him if he was sure several times, before he rolled his eyes and told you to take the damned thing before he made you freeze.

well, the space heater was fucked and you really are freezing now. putting on an extra pair of socks and a hoodie had not helped at all. it also didn’t help that the radiators throughout the place were already busted when you and simon first got there.

you stay in bed, suffering for five more minutes, before you say screw this and fling the sheets off, so you can go to simon’s room. when you get to his bedroom, the door is ajar. you lean forward to peek inside, and of course he's out like a light. you let out a small huff, before slowly pushing the door open to step inside. you find yourself standing there for a moment as you take in simon’s sleeping form, before shuffling over to his side of the bed. the moment your hand comes in contact with his shoulder, his eyes are snapping open. and then simon's half asleep and looming over you with a scowl on his pretty face, before you can even blink.

"what the hell do you think you’re doin'?" he asks, his voice rough with sleep. he’s got your body trapped between himself and the wall.

"dramatic much?" you say with a look of amusement, while you make an attempt to free yourself from his grasp. when simon doesn't budge, you kindly ask him to unhand you.

simon moves away from you with a grunt. you watch as he sits on the edge of the bed with his arms folded across his chest. you try not to stare at him whenever he’s like this, shirtless, muscles bulging, with his tattoos and scars on display.

because damn he looks good.

“you gonna keep starin’, or are you gonna tell me why you’re in my room?”

you shift from foot to foot, almost nervously, as you explain to him how the heat went out and you’re cold. “i can’t sleep like this, simon,” you say with a pout.

simon stares at you for a moment, before he beckons you closer to the bed, “come here, dove.” when you’re in front of him, he orders you to lose the hoodie and those ridiculous socks of yours. “you won’t be needing ‘em.”

you make a face at the sock comment, but does as he says. when you’re done, you waste no time climbing into bed and burrowing down into the blankets, while simon climbs in next you. when he settles, he reaches for you immediately, pulling you close so your back rests against his chest and your legs are tangled with his. you don’t even try to contain the soft moan that spills from your lips as simon’s body heat surrounds you. he’s practically smothering you with it.

“thank you,” you say softly, expressing your gratitude with a light squeeze to simon’s callused fingers. you feel your lips curve up into a smile when he squeezes back.

“don’t have to thank me, sweetheart. can’t have you freezing to death,” simon murmurs in your ear as his thumb brushes the exposed skin where your shirt has ridden up.

you’re not sure how much time has passed as you lay there in simon’s arms, soaking up his heat while he continues to rub gentle circles into your skin. it’s only when your eyes begin to droop, you realize that he’s been lulling you to sleep this entire time.

"would have destroyed the heater myself, if i'd known it would get you in my bed sooner," are the last words you hear from simon, before you drift off to sleep.

a/n: my contribution for @glitterypirateduck’s ghost challenge

[quaithe-seastar]

His Queen

Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Aegon are trapped in an arranged marriage, but you've both done your best to deal with it. Aegon admits to you that he has his doubts about being king. You do your best to offer him comfort despite having your reservations.

Warnings: Smut, Oral (fem receiving), Slight angst, mentions of arranged marriage, mentions of infidelity

A/n: No beta, so I apologize for any grammar and spelling mistakes.

You groan, fluffing your pillow as you turn onto your side. Your eyes beg you to go back to sleep, but your mind seems intent on keeping you awake. You slide a hand over to the left side of the bed. The sheets where Aegon rested had grown cold. You frowned, longing for his warmth. He had been here when you went to sleep, just as he has been every night for the past week.

Since becoming king, Aegon has been different. He is taking a more active and involved role, not just as king but also as a husband and father. 

A great wave of weariness washes over you, taking your energy along with it. It leaves nothing but a sting of melancholy and humiliation in its wake. Perhaps you were a fool to think Aegon had changed. Had he slipped back into his old ways so soon? Where was he now, you wondered. In some brothel on the street of silk or in some filthy flea-bottom rat pit? You shake your head, trying to stop being so pessimistic.

Slowly, you got out of bed and pulled your robe over your nightgown. You pull your hair to the side as you slide on a pair of slippers. The castle was quiet and dark, though that was no surprise considering how late it was. You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to fight off the chill in the air. Maester Orwyle believed the summer was finally coming to an end.

Your eyes wander around, lazily observing the same walls you have seen a thousand times before. Your mind turns back to your husband. The marriage had been arranged by your father and the late King Viserys. Your mother had wished you to marry the Lord of Seagard, Lord Jorah Mallister, but your father refused. What is a lord compared to a prince, he said.

Neither you nor Aegon had been happy about it. But somehow, you managed to coexist; you had little choice otherwise. Over the years, you had found yourself growing quite fond of him. He was charismatic and very easy on the eyes without even trying. Though you were unsure if he shared your feelings, it was so hard to tell. He was always off doing whatever he did with his spare time.

The sound of clinking metal echoed in the air. Your eyes land upon an alert Ser Arryk. Though the tense knight relaxed when he realized it was you. He removed his hand from the hilt of his sword and bowed his head.

“Your grace.”

“Ser Arryk,” you greet him courteously.

 “Is he alone?” You asked, gesturing towards the giant closed doors that concealed the throne room. 

You could see how the king guard tensed up again; a look of pity flickered in his eyes. It was a look you had grown accustomed to over the years. Your husband's indiscretions were well known throughout the city.

Ser Arryk nodded, “Yes, your grace.”

You take a step forward, and the knight quickly takes the hint. He pushed open one of the doors just enough for you to slip past it before pulling it closed again. The room was so quiet. Even the soft thuds your feet made against the stone floor echoed. The walk to the throne felt like it stretched on for hours. 

You could see Aegon in the distance. His silver-gold hair contrasted beautifully against the grim, gray walls of the throne room. The man stands at the foot of the steps, dressed down in his nightwear.

The iron throne was said to be made of the thousand swords of the conqueror’s enemies. Regardless of whether that was true, the throne was certainly a ghastly thing to look at.

The iron throne casts a large shadow that stops at the bottom of the steps, right at Aegon’s feet, threatening to engulf him.

“You disappeared. I was worried something had happened,” you said, breaking the silence in the room.

Aegon turned his head to look at you. He had a startled look on his face. Had he not heard you coming?

”I apologize, my queen. I did not wish to disturb you with my restlessness.” 

You fiddle with the sleeves of your robe. The title of queen was something you hadn’t entirely warmed up to yet. In truth, you weren’t sure what you thought of all of this. 

“I wouldn’t have minded. It’s better than waking up alone.”

A look of hurt and guilt washed over his face. You quickly came to regret your words.

“I'm sorry. Just forget I said anything,” you added nervously. “I shall leave you be.”

You quickly turn to leave, but before you can take a step, a voice calls out, “Don’t go!”

The urgency and desperation in his tone make you freeze. You crane your neck to look back at him. His dark eyes are wide and glossy.

“I mean,” he cleared his throat. “I would enjoy your company.”

You remain frozen, at a loss for words. He had never actively sought your company before. Aegon’s cheeks grow red, and he quickly adds, “Though you’re free to go if you wish.”

He quickly turns back around, facing the throne. You stare at the back of his head, your eyes following the waves of his hair. It had grown out quite a bit. That was also something you were not used to. He usually preferred to keep it short.

The soft thuds of your slippers hitting the ground echo in the air once more. You slowly move to stand by his side.

“Do you think I can do it?” He asked suddenly.

Aegon’s voice wavers as the question leaves his lips. You turn your head to look at him. His body is tense, and he keeps his eyes forward, not looking at you.

In a way, he reminds you of a child, your child, your sweet little Jaehaerys. He is your husband's heir now. One day, he will stand in this very spot. You wonder if he will have the same doubts.

Your eyes follow his gaze to the throne. You had wondered the same thing many times before. A deep, weary sigh escaped from your lips.

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly.

From the corner of your eyes, you can see him wince at your words. 

“I do not wish to lie to you, husband. I cannot say for certain if you will be a good king. But I do believe,” you take his hand into yours. “that you have a kind heart. And if you try, really try , you may surprise us all.”

He offers your hand a little squeeze. “I want to try. I just- I don’t know how. My father never prepared me for this.”

“No one prepared him either, yet he found his path. In time, you will too.”

An uneasy smile stretched across his lips. He shook his head slightly before lowering it. His eyes trained on the ground. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Hey,” you coax as you move to stand before him. 

Your free hand gently cups his face, urging him to look up at you. His eyes are vast and glossier than you’ve ever seen them. You can see the slight tremble in his bottom lip. He leans into the warmth of your palm. You run your thumb up and down his cheekbone. 

“You are not alone in this, Aegon. You have your small council and your grandfather, who has advised two kings bef-”

“And you?” He queried.

Aegon’s violet eyes shift back and forth between your eyes as if he were searching for something. 

“Yes,” you nodded. “You have me.”

His hands rest on your hips, pulling you closer. Soon, your chest is pressed against his. You can feel his warm breath on your face. You catch a whiff of the sweet arbor red that lingers on his tongue. Aegon lowers his head, nudging his nose against yours. Your lips just barely graze each other. 

A heat climbed up your face, making it feel like your skin was on fire. Unable to handle the growing need in your stomach, you lift yourself onto your toes, pressing your lips to his. Aegon responds immediately, moving his soft lips against yours.

This kiss was different. Different from the chaste kiss you shared on your wedding day or the sloppy drunk kisses you shared during the few times he joined you in your marital bed. 

Aegon kissed you with a desperation and hunger that you had never experienced before. Your arms wound around his neck, needing him even closer to you if possible. You let him lead you through the kiss, primarily due to your lack of experience but also because you find yourself becoming lightheaded. 

You feel dizzy like the world is spinning. You're running out of breath, lungs burning from the lack of air, but no part of you wants to stop this.

Aegon takes the initiative to pull away first. A pathetic whine passes through your lips. You lean forward, eager to feel his lips on yours again, but he doesn’t let you. He grabs your arms, pulling them away from his neck.

“Come with me,” he said, taking one of your hands into his.

You struggled to keep up with him as he pulled you behind him. Your feet sluggishly climbed up the stairs to the iron throne.

“What are you doing?” You asked as you reached the top.

“Take a seat,” he replied, not answering your question.

You eyed him suspiciously, unsure of what he was planning to do. Your eyes scanned the empty throne room, ensuring no one was watching you. A devilish smile rested on his lips as he gestured towards the throne. You hold onto his hand as you lower yourself onto the throne made of swords. 

Your body is tense, and you struggle not to let the fear of being pricked overwhelm you.

“How does it feel?”

You struggle to come up with an answer. You were frightened, but you could not deny the sense of power and strength that filled your chest. Suddenly, you could understand why so many people lusted after the throne.

“It’s ... nice.”

Aegon lets out a hearty laugh, and you turn your head away, mortified.

“My sweet little wife,” he mused, leaning down to kiss your head.

You stay silent, reeling with embarrassment. You close your eyes, wishing this was all a dream and that you would soon be back in the comfort of your own bed.

Warm hands slipping under your nightgown make you gasp. Your head snaps forward to find your husband kneeling before you. Aegon’s warm hands rest on your calves. You squeeze your legs together as tightly as you can.

“What are you doing?!” You whispered harshly, taken aback by his audaciousness.

His eyes flickered up towards yours, staring at you. “I want to try something.”

The gleam in his eyes sends a shiver down your spine.

“What?” You asked, though you believe you have some understanding of what he means.

Some of the more... bolder ladies at court loved to gossip and share stories of their late-night trysts with their husbands and paramours. You have heard a few stories about men who enjoy... feasting on their lovers. It was something you had never heard of before, let alone experienced. A part of you wondered if it was even true.

You had thought of asking Aegon about it, as he was quite... familiar with the ways of lovemaking, but you could not bring yourself to repeat what you had heard.

“Trust me,” he said, a grin reaching his lips. “I believe you will enjoy it.”

You stare at him, taking a deep breath before nodding. His warm hands slid up high, caressing your knees as he pushed them apart. You gasped, knees immediately trying to clamp shut to preserve some of your dignity. But Aegon doesn’t let you. 

He keeps a firm grip on your knees, keeping you spread open for him. Your nightgown is hitched up above your knees. The cold night air makes your skin prickle with goosebumps. The heat that was climbing up your face earlier spreads throughout your entire body. You want to close your eyes and turn away, but you cannot bring yourself to look away from him.

His eyes no longer stare into yours. Instead, his violet eyes remained focused between your legs. He glides his hands up your thighs, inching your dress higher until, finally, your cunt is exposed. But he doesn’t touch it. Instead, he moves his palms down, rubbing circles on your outer thighs.

The way Aegon touches you now differs from his usual impatient and rough approach. His hands seem almost reverent as they fondle your soft, plush thighs.

“Aegon,” you gasped as he lowered his head, pressing his lips to your right inner thigh. 

His hair fell forward, covering his face, but you believed you could feel him smirking against your skin. Suddenly, you felt him nip at the sensitive skin of your thigh. A sharp cry leaves your lips.

“‘m sorry,” he murmured against your skin as he kissed the bite.

His lips move up higher to the crook of your thigh. Your mouth hung slightly open, and a shaky breath passed through your lips. Being naked and exposed to him was nothing new, but having him so close like this was. Having his eyes and lips so close to your most intimate area was very new.

“Can you open them a bit more?” He asked, looking up at you.

You swiped your tongue across your lips before nodding. You were finally able to shut your eyes as you spread your legs wider, hoping it was enough.

“You’re perfect,” he said in awe.

A hot wetness glides over your aching cunt, making your entire body jolt. You let out a noise that is somewhere between a gasp and a cry as you try to draw your legs closed, but you're unable to, not with Aegon nestled between your thighs. His shoulders keep you spread open for his view and pleasure.

Aegon’s tongue was delivering the most exquisite pleasure you had ever experienced. He lapped up and down your folds, savoring your taste, before caressing your clit, alternating movements from up and down and side to side.

You look down, finding him peering up at you. His violet eyes locked onto you, watching your every expression, listening to every sound as he unraveled you beneath him. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, from the top of your head all the way down to your toes. All the air that fills your lungs is gone in an instant.

“Aegon- mmm,” his name leaves you like a meager whine.

His tongue works ardently between your splayed thighs, feasting upon you like a man starved. You find yourself enamored by the soft, tantalizing, wet sound his mouth is producing. One of your hands reached down, entangling itself in his messy silver waves. He moans against you, and the feeling has you arching your back. 

Your eyes rolled back as the pleasure quickly began to overwhelm you. Your chest rose and fell repeatedly, your hard nipples rubbing against the fabric of your nightgown. You did not know how much more you would be able to take.

Sinful cries and whimpers echoed throughout the throne room, but you could not bring yourself to care. How could you possibly think of anything else when your husband was sending wave after wave of pleasure through your body? 

Then, he slips a finger inside of you. 

“Aegon!” You cried out, so close to reaching your peak, yet not wanting this to end.

He easily adds another. His fingers move at a torturous, methodical pace. The pads of his fingers rub against your spongy walls, favoring that spot that makes you gasp and squeal. He catches your clit between his lips, suckling on it as if it were a treat. You gripped his head, rocking into his mouth.

You could feel a familiar heat building up in your lower stomach. The tension was almost unbearable. The world around you seemed to blur; all your senses honed in on Aegon and the pleasure only he could give you. 

You panted out curses and his name, shuddering at the warm pleasure that filled your entire body.

A groan erupts from the back of his throat, so guttural, it makes you weak. You glanced down and found him still watching you. His dark eyes entranced you, not allowing you to look away. 

Your legs and back stiffened, your stomach tightened, and your breath halted. You clamped your eyes shut and moaned out his name as you finally reached your peak. 

You remove your hand from his hair and tap his shoulder. Thankfully he pulled away with little protest, allowing your senses to calm down as your peak reached its end. Your back is aching from sitting upright for so long. You lean back a little, hoping to find relief, but the iron throne offers none. 

You're unsure how much time passes before you can properly catch your breath again. Soft fingers interlace with yours, bringing you back to the present. You blink, trying to fight off the drowsiness that is steadily creeping up on you. Aegon is still kneeling before you, with a self-satisfying look on his face.

“I told you you’d like it.”

You let out a breathy laugh and tried to push him away. However, you lacked the strength to do so.

“Just... give me a moment. Then I shall help you.”

“Mmh,” he hummed. “That won’t be necessary, my queen.”

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

He smirked and glanced down at his lap before looking back at you. You sat up and looked down to find a dark wet spot that covered the front of his trousers. Your face heated up again, and a coy smile made its way onto your lips.

“That’s too bad,” you sigh. “I was hoping we could play some more.”

Aegon’s smirk is gone, replaced with a more serious look. “I just need a moment. Then I’ll take you right here.”

You laugh at his enthusiasm. “I’m more than willing to go again, but not here. I prefer the comfort of our bed.”

Aegon nods and quickly stands to his feet. He helps you stand and holds you close to his side as the two of you leave the throne room. 

“Your grace,” Ser Arryk bows as the two of you make it out of the room.

You gulped, mortified, realizing what the poor white cloak had just endured. 

“Ser Arryk,” Aegon smiled. “The Queen and I shall be returning to our bedchamber now.”

The knight’s eyes flickered toward you before quickly averting his gaze. It was not hard to tell that the man was flustered. You shot him an apologetic smile even though he would not look at you.

“Yes, your grace.” He replied, dutifully following behind the two of you as you returned to your bedchamber. You’ll have to convince Aegon to find some way to make it up to him.

[jayparked]

𝒽𝒶𝓃𝒹𝓈𝓎 | 𝒽𝑒𝑒𝓈𝑒𝓊𝓃𝑔 | 𝓂

snippet: Then, looking into your eyes, he speaks firmly, “Before we begin, let’s establish some ground rules.”

pairing: lee heeseung x female reader

genre: smut, pwp

au: roommates, f2l

rating: explicit/18+, minors dni

word count: 4.3k

warnings: there’s a deep conversation about feelings, love confessions (YUCK)

sexual warnings: masturbation (female receiving), mutual pining, begging, rule making, dirty talk, non penetrative sex, oral (female receiving), body worship, light foot worship, the entire thing is based off getting reader off, heeseung doesn’t get off  :( , heeseung is kinda bossy, praise kink, heeseung calls reader babygirl, overstimulation, .001% of aftercare, moaning, hair pulling, marking, punishment kink?, dom/sub dynamics, orgasm…guilt?...sorry

The frustration builds quicker than you wanted, the groans coming from your mouth slipping out louder each time you feel your body give up on itself. You’re too god damn horny, but your body is too tired to properly masturbate.

This is probably the fifth time now that you've attempted to get yourself off only to abandon ship seconds after. Your muscles ache and sleep calls to you. Despite this, every time you try to just sleep it off, the aching, painful throb from your clit keeps you awake.

It takes everything in you to keep yourself from throwing a tantrum like a toddler.

The clock now reads just after three in the morning; you let out one last frustrated breath. It comes out louder than you intended, the grunt rising in pitch before you can even stop yourself.

Moments later, your shirtless, sleep-drunk roommate opens your door, rubbing his eyes with one fist as he holds himself up with the other hand gripping the doorway.

“Are you okay or whatever? I keep hearing groaning and other weird sounds,” Heeseung sighs, slight annoyance laced in his tone.

Your eyes are wide with embarrassment as Heeseung’s sleepy eyes jolt awake as he finally sees you.

You’re laying on top of your comforter completely naked with one hand still draped across your womanhood.

Heeseung shifts his body against the door frame, the moonlight now highlighting down his face. The shadows of your air-guided drapes chase that light, new depths illuminating across his nose and cheekbones. You’re not sure why your brain is trying so hard to think of metaphors and similes, anything to compare Heeseung to, but none of them do him justice. It would be too easy to blame it on the lack of sleep. Then again, you’ve never truly let yourself look at him in this way before and it’s killing you that you can’t read the expression on his face.

In this moment, you realize you have neither fight nor flight instincts as you lay frozen in your bed, nothing willing you to cover yourself or hide from your roommates gaze.

Heeseung’s tongue pokes out of his mouth, moving slowly against his bottom lip as his eyes flick frantically from your body to the wall across the room. Raising a hand to cover his mouth, he clears his throat and brushes his thumb against his bottom lip to wipe away the remnants from his tongue.

Clearing his throat once more, his shoulder relaxes against the doorframe, his body now leaning in a very casual nonchalant way, his eyes continue to debate where to look. “Wha-whatcha doing there?” He immediately turns his body away from you after speaking, facing the wall as he aggressively rubs at the nape of his neck, his other hand back up to his mouth.

“Oh...you know...just trying to sleep.”

There’s a brief silence- minus the light flapping of your window curtains. That, and the mental beating you’re giving yourself for trying to joke about the situation at hand. There is no hiding it. You’ve been caught red-handed.

Literally.

“Y/n…” Heeseung warns, the moonlight shifting in a way that now illuminates the tense muscles of his back. 

Your heart pounds loudly within your chest. You’ve seen Heeseung shirtless thousands of times. So why is this the first time you’re realizing just how sculpted his body actually is? 

Shutting your eyes tightly, your brain moves at hyper-speed trying to figure out what to do or say next. A million scenarios flood in and all you want is to pick the option that lets you keep your roommate and not have to live with exploding embarrassment for the rest of your life.

You’re about to open your mouth and just say the first thing that comes out, no matter how brainless it may be. Perhaps brutal honesty will help you out in the end. But Heeseung beats you to the punch.

“Do you...do you need help?” His back is still turned to you so you can’t read his expression, but you can’t help but notice the way his back muscles tense.

It takes you a moment to register what he’s said. You’re finally able to move your hand away from your cunt and you slowly sit up and lay your back against your headboard, grabbing one of your pillows and hugging it tightly to your chest.

“I guess talking about it might help even though you and I have never really talked about this kind of thing before. Have you ever just been so horny and tired at the same time but you’re unable to do either of those things? I’ve been struggling for hours now trying to sleep but I can’t sleep because...you know, and then when I try to do that I’m just too tired to actually do it right and-”

“No, I mean-” Heeseung cuts himself off with a sigh, quickly followed by a slow intake of air, puffing his cheeks out as he releases it and turns towards you. He pauses, still averting his eyes before he steps towards your bed. Determination and bravery are written all over his face, despite the fact that he’s still trying to respectively not look at you.

Sitting at the foot of your bed with his body facing the door, Heeseung takes a moment before turning his head towards you, his dark eyes looking directly into yours.

“I can help you.”

A few more moments of silent eye contact passes before you finally understand what he’s trying to suggest.

“Oh...OH!” You can’t help but gasp with widened eyes as it finally clicks in your head exactly what he’s offering to you.

“Wouldn’t that,” you gulp, your face feeling painfully warm, “wouldn’t that make things weird? Between us?”

Heeseung’s jaw is tight, his muscles jutting forward as he breaks eye contact and looks back towards your bedroom door. “It doesn’t have to be weird,” he says softly, “...if you don’t want them to be. I mean, I can honestly say I haven’t ever...you know, not thought of you in this way before.” He lets out another long puff of air, knowing he’s being confusing with his words, hand grasping at the back of his neck as he tries to massage the tension away.

You feel embarrassed and flattered and excited all at once. Your roommate of three years, best friend of over ten years, has admitted to thinking of you in a sexual way.

Heeseung lets you think for a moment. But it only allows you more time to realize that you can’t feign innocence here either. There was that major crush you had on him in high school or the time you walked in on him in the shower. There’s definitely been a handful of times where he’s crept into your thoughts while you were with someone else or even times when you were alone.

There are a million things that could go wrong if you accept his offer.

Or, a million things that could go right.

“Okay,” you say bravely, moving the pillow away from your body, “please, help me.”

Turning his head slowly, Heeseung finally looks at you, really looks at you, his eyes roaming every inch of your body slowly. He inhales, his jaw clenching once more as his gaze falls upon your uncovered chest.

Then, looking into your eyes, he speaks firmly and slowly, “Before we begin, let’s establish some ground rules.”

Gulping slowly, you nod your head, trying not to think about the lack of friction going on below.

"Rule number one," Heeseung starts with a smirk, "you don’t get to touch me." 

"What?-"

"Nuh, uh." He interrupts you, holding up his pointer finger as he shakes his head, his fluffy brown hair swooshing over his eyes. Without looking, he picks up your bare feet and pulls you towards him, placing your legs over his lap as you now lay flat on the bed. His hands start to roam over your calves and down to your toes. His fingers are just barely lingering over you to the point of sending chills throughout your entire body. The touch of his skin on yours alone is sending the signals in your body into overdrive. That mixed with the tiredness you're feeling, it's making it nearly impossible to think straight or stay focused on the words he’s saying.

"I've been thinking about a night like this for a long, long time. Respectfully, of course," he adds quickly, looking back at you and giving you a soft smile. "I never wanted to do anything to ruin what we have. But damn, I really can't deny it. I've thought about making you cum over and over and over again so many times it was like a movie constantly replaying  in my mind." Heeseung continues to stroke your feet and legs sensually as he speaks. It takes everything in your power not to pounce on him.

Instead, you bite your bottom lip and close your eyes, resting your arms on your stomach, letting the deep grumble of Heeseung's voice soothe your body along with all the places he's trailing his fingers on.

“Anyways,” he says with a quirk of his eyebrow, “back to our rules.”

His domineering tone sends chills throughout your body again and you try your best to ignore the white noise ringing in your ears. 

“Rule number two: you can’t cum unless I tell you you can.”

The urge to question him again is strong, but his stare makes you shut your mouth tightly.

He knows the question is hanging off the tip of your tongue, you know that he knows. Instead of throwing you a bone, he sits there smirking at you, sitting on his high horse while also looking like he knows the punchline to the joke you’ve been waiting to get.

Finally, he beckons you closer, his pointer finger slowly enticing you in. You sit up slowly, your legs still in his lap. As soon as you’re close enough to see the dark flecks in his eyes, he leans in himself until his lips are hovering just over your ear.

“And I can be a very patient man, baby girl. We can be here all night until you finally get it right and do what I say.”

Admittedly, your first instinct is to laugh, the sheer shock of his words not fully settling in. But then, after a moment, you can tell just how much his words affected your body; your legs feel shakier, the core of your womanhood pulsates quicker, and you start to feel the dripping of your arousal moving down your thighs.

It only makes sense that your childhood friend, the love of your life, would also turn out to be the kinkiest person you’ve ever met.

It only makes sense.

“Okay...yes sir.”

The smugness on Heeseung’s face only increases.

“Good girl.”

“Are there any other rules...?” It still feels odd talking to your best friend about this. But it’s all worth it when you notice the growing tent in Heeseung’s sweatpants

Heeseung gets off the bed and moves closer to you, his hands behind his back. He appears so nonchalant and unbothered, almost like he’s ignoring the fact that he’s sporting the hardest erection he’s ever had in his life. 

It makes you nervous in the best of ways.

Removing one hand from behind his back, he places it on one of your knees, caressing your flesh gently before pushing it to the side, spreading your legs open wide to expose your dripping cunt. He nods his head with approval, biting his bottom lip hard as his eyes sweep slowly up and down over your entire naked body.

It feels like the room’s temperature went up another ten degrees.

Heeseung dips his hand lower, hovering over your cunt. Each time it looks like he’s about to touch you, your vagina pulses with anticipation, only for Heeseung to deceivingly pull away at the last second.

“Please, Heeseung…please touch me, I just want to cum, I can’t take this anymore. I’ll do anything!”

With a slight chuckle, Heeseung humors you, leaning his body down closer to yours and dips one of his fingers down, lightly petting the tops of your folds.

The small touch makes you shiver, your hips bucking up towards his hand. The amount of juices he accumulates on his fingers in a short amount of time exposes exactly how needy you feel. 

“Only because you asked so nicely.” And with that said, Heeseung's fingers glide past your folds with a heavenly amount of pressure, soaking in your sweet juices. Your head falls back against your bed and you wish you could sink in deeper; into the bed, the room, into him. He's murmuring something in your ears, but your mind is too focused on what's happening to your body, there's not enough mental capacity in there to comprehend words at the moment. The urge to reach out to him and feel his skin against the palm of your hand spurs deep in your chest, but not strong enough to act upon. Instead, you let your eyes flutter shut, sighing blissfully as he continues to massage and soothe your bud.

Heeseung continues a slow, sensual pace, one that you could arguably fall asleep to. It feels like every stress cell in your body slowly floats away with every stroke of his fingers.

"Just like that? Hmm?" You hear him say.

"Hmm?" You manage out, your voice sounding weak and far away.

"I just didn't think you would react to me that quickly. Or intensely."

You open your eyes and look at him. Heeseung is propped up on one elbow, his hand cradling his jawline. His other hand continues to make brushstroke movements in between your folds. He looks at your vagina with wonder, and like he has something more to say.

But you're too tired and enjoying him too much to ask.

Moments later, Heeseung is picking up speed, beckoning your undoing.

You don't feel ready to give up the warmth you feel with his touch, not ready to reach the top and climb back down.

You can’t take it anymore. The pressure building is too intense and you need something sturdy and stable to hold onto.

Screw his rules.

Grasping onto Heeseung's shoulder, your fingernails dig into him as you bite down on your bottom lip, fighting desperately at the orgasm crashing down on you.

"There you go, baby. That's it. Come undone on my fingers." Heeseung's sweet demeanor is long gone as he watches you with sinful eyes.

A small moan leaves your lips as you let go; your legs shake vigorously underneath Heeseung's grasp and you feel the painful twist of a muscle spasm deep in your hamstrings.

Short gasps are all you can manage in response, your mind feeling more awake than before.

And in that brief pause between ministrations, your mind increases its speed tenfold, your thoughts now clearer than ever.

This is your best friend you're laying in front of. The same guy you used to collect bugs with when you were younger, the same guy you were embarrassed in front of when he found out you started wearing a training bra.

And you just came in front of him.

"I'm so sorry, Heeseung!" you cry out, sitting up quickly and burying your face in your hands as you fight back hot tears from falling down your cheeks. "We can forget this ever happened."

Heeseung is quiet behind you as you imagine yourself shrinking into a spec of nothing.

Then, tenderly, his hand is on top of yours, coaxing it away from your face. And you let him do it.

Heeseung holds your hands in his, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles before whispering, "Did I do something wrong?"

Immediately you want to scream no, but your words catch in your throat as you look at him. Heeseung’s bottom lip is jutting out slightly and he's avoiding your eyes as he continues to try and comfort you. And then you remember that this isn’t some random stranger. You know him. You know him more than anyone, hell, sometimes you know him more than you know yourself. And right now, this Heeseung in front of you is just as embarrassed and emotional as you are.

"No," you say bravely reaching out to press your palm to his cheek, turning his face towards yours, "I don't regret it at all. I'm sorry, I just-" you sigh and lean back, struggling to find the right words to say while fighting against your own embarrassment, "-I just never thought we would get to this point. And to hear you say all those things you were saying? I just don't understand. Why didn't you ever tell me? Why me to begin with?" That's when you realize where all of this insecurity of yours is coming from. Heeseung has been with gorgeous people in the past, gorgeous, successful people. And the thought of him liking you? It must feel like a step down for him.

But the way his face softens as he sighs, bringing your hand back up to his face, has you second guessing your initial judgment of him.

"It's always been you, Y/n. Ever since we first met. How could I ever for a second not want to be with you? You're my best friend, the person I go to for comfort. And because of that, I was always afraid to tell you about my feelings. Because just being in your life as your friend and your roommate, that was more than enough for me. And this doesn't have to go anywhere if you don't want it to be. But…truthfully, I want it to go somewhere. Hell, Y/n, I want to be with you. But if you don't want to be with me like that? I'll be okay."

His words swirl around your body, not quite processing into complacent thoughts. There are about a million different emotions coursing through your veins, and each one is battling to come to surface. 

It feels selfish, the position he’s put you in. Because now, it’s all on you. Your choice will determine how your relationship with Heeseung changes forever. And, let’s be real, no matter what happens after this moment, things will never be the same. The weight of that realization is pushing you down into the mattress you sit on. You’ve avoided thinking about your best friend in this way for so long it’s hard to tell if what you’re feeling has always been there or just here temporarily, clouded by the high of a mind-blowing orgasm.

On the other hand, there’s excitement, joy, happiness, relief all bundled into one giant heart floating around you. Your best friend, the person you’ve been attached to for over a century now, is confessing his feelings for you.

It’s time to be honest with yourself.

You’ve been in love with him this whole time.

Heeseung waits patiently while you figure out exactly what to say, playing with your fingers and tracing unknown shapes across your hand in the meantime.

You’re too tired for words, too tired for thoughts, too tired for almost everything it seems. 

Well, everything, except…

You lean forward slowly, placing your weight on your hands as you close the space between you and Heeseung and place a tender kiss on his lips.

Heeseung sighs and closes his eyes, putting your hand over his heart and completely melts into your touch.

How could you not do the same?

All of the tiredness, all of the frustrations from before Heeseung entered your bedroom, it was all worth it to get to this moment. And you’d go through it every night for the rest of your life if it meant you got to kiss him just like this.

The kiss deepens quickly, your mouths moving with an intensity you’ve never experienced before. Without thinking, you let your body take full control, not second-guessing any natural movement. So you let your hand find its way to the nape of Heeseung’s hair, delicately pulling at the ends until his neck is forced back and a moan ripples through his throat. It was so unexpected and out of character, but you like having this control.

It doesn’t last long, though. Heeseung quickly comes to his senses and knocks you onto your back, pushing you with one hand on your chest. He chuckles low and menacingly, his eyes staring deep into yours.

“What did I say about touching?” His voice is so low you swear you can feel it rumbling in your chest.

Heeseung doesn’t allow you enough time to answer. Before you can even open your mouth, his tongue is attached to your lips.

But not the lips on your face.

Your eyes immediately roll back as his tongue writes beautiful nothingness against your cunt and you desperately want to reach out and grip his hair again. Thinking there’s a possibility he wouldn’t notice, you reach and tangle your fingers in his locks. Almost immediately, your hand is batted away with a low warning growl from Heeseung as he continues to work his tongue against your sensitive bud. You groan in protest, but obey, somehow able to restrain yourself and settle for gripping the sheets instead.

The tongue movements start slow, but it seems you’re not the only impatient one here, despite what he may have said earlier. Heeseung picks up speed as he laps up your juices, his hand snaking up to insert a few digits inside you. His other hand is gripping one of your hips, his entire forearm pressing against your pelvic bone, holding you into place. His grip on you only seems to make your body want to shake more.

“You that close already, baby?” Heeseung lifts his head up for a moment, your juices glistening on his mouth, cheekbones and the tip of his nose. It seems like a sight you would only have in your dreams. It’s hard to believe this is happening in real life.

“Answer me,” he commands, eyes narrowing, but there’s a tinge of softness behind his words.

“I can’t help it.” You pant out, “Been building up all these years now. I could have come just by you touching my shoulder.”

Heeseung chuckles at this, slowly pumping his fingers in and out of you.

“You can cum whenever you want, baby. I’m not going to stop you,” he says casually.

Almost...too casually.

But you don’t think twice, you’re too tired to think twice. Quiet moans slip past your lips and Heeseung takes that as his cue. His fingers move faster, scissoring inside your body as his nose brushes against your clit.

It’s almost too easy to come undone.

White hot heat spreads throughout your body as everything around you starts to shake. Heeseung is watching you with careful eyes as you orgasm the fastest you’ve ever orgasmed in your life.

Your breathing only gets heavier as you come back from your high. But then, a blissful pain makes your thigh muscles jolt, a new wave of uncontainable cries escape you.

“I said I wouldn’t stop you if you wanted to cum,” Heeseung devilishly proclaims, his fingers moving faster than ever inside you, “but that didn’t mean I was gonna stop.”

Your eyes shut tight as you pull at the sheets gripped tightly in your hands, too afraid to speak because of the moans you’re currently swallowing back. Small whimpers make it out as you desperately try to focus on anything other than the torture you’re going through.

“Aw, don’t be like that, baby,” Heeseung coos, focusing almost all of his attention on your clit now. “Let it all out. I want to hear that pretty voice of yours. Tell me how good I make you feel.”

There are no logical thoughts left in your brain. All you know is that you’re desperately exhausted and it’s taking too much of your energy to fight against the natural cries your body wants to release as this overstimulation continues.

So, you let go.

“Fuck!” you finally cry out, your chest rising and falling quicker than ever as the moans release deep from within you, “That feels so good! I’m gonna come again- I’m gonna- I’m gonna-”

A small scream is all you can manage as the pressure in your core finally releases. You thought your previous orgasm was intense? Nothing will ever be able to top this one.

“Damn that was fucking sexy.” Heeseung stands and wipes his face with the back of his hand.

Your legs are still trembling and it feels like every muscle in your body is frozen in place. Warm liquid coats your inner thighs and drips down onto your sheets.

“Did I just…?” You ask with shock. Heeseung chuckles and nods his head, walking towards your door. He pauses with one hand on the doorframe, looking back at you with a proud smile.

“Hell yeah you did. Have you ever squirted before?”

“No, never,” you whisper, but Heeseung is already out of the room. Your eyes flutter shut, sleep threatening to finally take over.

Heeseung returns with a towel, throwing it so it lands right beside you.

“Goodnight, babygirl,” he whispers, leaning in to kiss your forehead.

“Wait!” You call out just as he reaches the doorway. “What about you?” You point at his very obvious erection.

Heeseung waves you off casually, “We’ll have plenty more nights of fun in the future. But for now, sleep. Don’t worry about me.” He winks. “I can take care of myself just fine. Get some rest. Goodnight, Y/n.”

Before Heeseung even closes the door, your eyes are shut, sleep finally welcoming you into its arms.

a/n: thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed :] if you did please reblog and leave a comment!

© all rights reserved. do not copy, modify, translate, or repost. jayparked 07/30/24

[thefailedabortioon]

|| Carlos de Vil & a crush • X F!Reader

warnings: n/a

authors note: it isnt mentioned who your parent is its up to you for that! mb if its messy i havent written an x reader in like an eon LMAO.

summary: carlos de vil tries to deal with a crush and has his first interaction since first seeing her. (alternate title: jay is an amazing wingman.)

word count: roughly 900 words

A red ball bounced off the wall of Carlos’ and Jay’s shared dorm. Dude chased after it, tongue sticking out as he panted. When Carlos received the ball back, it’d been completely soaked in dog slobber, earning a disgusted groan from him.

“Ugh, Dude.”

“What? I don’t have hands for paws!” The Brussels Griffon retorted.

Carlos rolled his eyes and turned over to Jay, who’d recently set up a little punching bag for training. It’s all he ever came to the room to do besides sleeping.

“What am I gonna do, man? Do you think she even likes me?” Carlos had recently taken a sudden interest in a girl that’d passed by him in the Great Hall… flowing dark hair, elegant clothes (she actually managed to make the uniform look good), and her face. God, her face. Carlos could stare at her for days. She’s seriously all he’d been thinking about.

“Chillax, she probably doesn’t even know your name.” Jay realized what he’d said and stopped hitting the punching bag for a second to look at his woeful friend, “Or… she does! And she’s curious about you too!” He tried to keep his spirits high and uplifting, surprising behavior for the guy if Carlos was being honest.

“I’m doomed.”

“Just talk to her, you coward!” Dude yipped, beady black eyes piercing into Carlos’ own. “You need to get to know her name first before you start thinking way ahead, you know?!”

Jay cut in, “Wait, you don’t even know her name?!” He cackled, running his both hands through his hair in amusement.

“Shut up! Oh my, God!” Carlos threw a pillow towards Jay, hiding his face behind his hands.

“It’s pathetic. Really!” Dude barked out, making biscuits on the pillow Carlos threw at Jay.

Carlos turned to his side, facing the wall. He hugged himself tightly, crossing his arms over his chest for comfort. He brought his knees down, letting his legs hang from the foot of the bed.

It didn’t take a while for Jay to finally take pity on him. He sat beside Carlos on his bed, muscular arms resting behind his back. “Sounds to me you really… like her.” If it wasn’t any more obvious. Jay snickered to himself. “What if I lend you a hand?”

At that, Carlos immediately shot up. “What?! What’re you going to do?! Talk to her?!”

“No, you idiot! You’re talking to her.” Jay said with a smug smile. Carlos wasn’t too fond of the idea, what if he messed up? What if the wrong words slipped out? Everything and anything could go wrong!

“No. No! I can’t! She’ll hate me!”

“Carlos.” Jay pulled Carlos to face him, hands gripping his shoulders, his eyes dug deep into Carlos’ own, staring back intensely at two circles of brown. “Man. The hell. Up.”

The other let out an exasperated groan, pulling away from Jay’s grip to let himself fall back flat on the bed.

It shouldn’t have been that hard, right? Jay had already given Carlos a set of questions he can start off with, scribbled messily on the palm of his hand. So the conversation can go smoothly from there.

He turned to look at Jay who hid in a potted plant not too far behind, an earpiece tucked under his long hair. Carlos also wore an earpiece, a lot more visible than Jay’s but it shouldn’t matter.

Jay gave Carlos an assuring thumbs up signal as he ducked down in the leaves.

Carlos took a deep breath, raising a fist to knock against a dorm room, when suddenly it swung open violently, revealing you. The De Vil boy had nothing to say, words getting stuck in his throat.

You both continued to stare at each other before you finally broke the awkward silence. “Uh, can I… help you?” You asked tentatively, fixing your hair at the sight of a visitor.

“Ah- Y-Yes! Uhh…” Carlos swallowed a large lump in his throat, eyes darting back and forth towards a large potted plant and the girl that stood before him. Her. “I’ve… I’m sure I’ve seen you around before, I never c-caught your name though.” He finally spoke, peaking not-so-discretely at his palm.

You gave him your name uncertainly, “And you are…”

“C—“

You cut him off abruptly with a snap of your fingers, “Carlos De Vil! Yeah, I’ve heard of you.”

Carlos winced, “What have you heard about me exactly?”

“Oh, uh…” You hesitated in answering, fidgeting with your fingers, “Not much. You play Tourney right? You’re on the team?” Carlos lit up at the mention of the sport.

“Yeah, yeah! I play! Do- Do you?”

“Um, they don’t allow girls on the team.” You smiled sheepishly and god, did Carlos almost faint on the spot.

“Right…”

“Is that it?”

Carlos paused, dusting his clothes off and straightening up. “Yeah- That’s- That’s all.”

You tilted your head to the side in curiosity, as if waiting for Carlos to say more, but you shrugged and closed the door behind you, excusing yourself. “It was nice talking to you. Bye.”

You shot him a grin, and you could swear his cheeks started turning pink. A giggle only left your lips as you walked past the boy and a mysterious potted plant that suspiciously had a familiar beanie thrown over it. But you paid no mind and strolled away. Cute.

requests are open!!

[freyarabbit]

Mᴇɢᴜᴍɪ ғɪɴᴅs ʏᴏᴜ ᴄʀʏɪɴɢ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ</3

[Tears, crying, fluff, no mention as to why reader is crying since i want the situation to fit into why YOU'VE been feeling down lately, kissing]

Megumi stirs around in his sleep, in between being asleep and awake. Subconscious. His eyes opened, lashes irritating him a little by interfering with his vision in the already mostly dark room. Rubbing his eyes before sitting up on the bed, he only stared at the wall in front of him for a bit, before realizing how thirsty he was.

As he reached his hand out to the bottle of water on his bedside table, his ears caught onto something. Something he found lovingly familiar. Your voice. Quietly drinking the water, he got off his bed, one foot after the other, trying his best not to make noise.

He approached the wall that separated you and him from each other, pressing his ear to it, only to have his heart stop for a moment. What is this? He heard those heartbreaking sobs, followed by breathy gasps and sighs. You were crying.

This isn't good.

His mind ran hundreds of thoughts through him. What should he do? Leave you alone? Give you space? Talk to you about it in the morning? Or just forget all of this and go back to sleep?

No...no... He cursed at himself for even thinking of leaving you alone. He already knew you well enough to know, that when you cried like this, you wanted someone to hear you no matter how much you tried quieting yourself down. That someone being him, specifically.

So there he was, grabbing the spare key to your room that you'd given to him with pleasure, and making his way to you, unlocking your door without a second thought.

Entering inside, his eyes darted around to look for you, seeing you on your bed, your cries having halted, as you looked up at him with wide eyes, your eyes red and tired. Your lips quivering, those adorable red swollen lips. He wanted to kiss you and tell you everything would be okay. Which is what he was going to do.

"Baby, what's wrong?"

You tried replying, but it was impossible without giving away how much you had been crying even more, as in your voice, it was evident.

"Tell me. Please."

He said please, getting on your bed, but that "please" didn't exactly sound like a plea though. You tried holding those tears back your best, but it simply didn't work, melting as his fingers contacted your skin. His touch had you defeated, your tears rushing out continuously, without a break, as you hugged him swiftly,crashing into his chest and calling out his name.

"Megumi...!"

Your tears stained his shirt, but that wasn't even something he thought of, only wrapping his hands around your waist. But it wasn't gentle, it was a tight hold. Not enough to hurt you, but enough for you to know that he wasn't gonna let go anytime soon.

He pulled you into his lap, as he rested his back against the bed frame, not even loosening his grip for a moment, letting you cry it all out.

He saw how exhausted you were with the way you hiccuped and shook in his arms, he knew that asking you what was wrong right now would be stressful for you. So, he just stroked you hair, before lifting your chin up gently.

"You can tell me everything tomorrow...Just sleep now. You'll be okay." He kissed your lips, making you whimper as he slid his tongue from right between them. That one sensational kiss turning into comforting little pecks on your forehead.

You nodded, nuzzling into him as your mind drifted away to sleep.

You slept like a little baby in his arms, making him think twice before deciding to rest your head on the pillow. He placed your body beside himself, before wrapping his strong arms around you, keeping you all to himself, his brows furrowed thinking about what could've happened to make you end up like this.

And there you both were, asleep in that one bed together, tangled with each other.

As long as he was around, you'd never stay hurt.

Was crying while I wrote this because some stuff happened, so I guess you could say that this piece is filled with emotion.

[sophrosynesworld]

Yeah, Best Friends (Pt. 3)

Part One: Katsuki Bakugo calls you during a panic attack seeking comfort.

Part Two: Drunk Katsuki Bakugo admits he's in love with you.

A relentless pounding in my head makes me wince as the hangover hits. Nausea washes over me, and I groan, slowly opening my eyes. Squinting against the morning light, I reluctantly roll out of Katsuki's ridiculously expensive bed. I hate to admit it, but for a $15,000 bed, it's like sleeping on a cloud.

I glance around his bedroom. Shelves line one wall, displaying All Might memorabilia. His desk is spotless, and even his shoes are lined up perfectly at the foot of his bed. On his bedside table, his All Might wallet and car keys lay next to a small framed photo of us. The faint sound of clinking pans and hushed voices drifts down the hallway, signaling someone is in the kitchen. The smell of cooking food makes my stomach growl, reminding me how hungry I am.

Lingering in the room all day doesn't appeal to me, so I tiptoe down the hallway. The sounds from the kitchen grow clearer and I realize it's Bakugo and Kirishima talking.

"Come on, Bakugo! Just ask her out already," Kirishima's voice is insistent.

"Shut up, Shitty Hair. I don't need your advice," Katsuki snaps back, his tone irritated. "And get out of my apartment. She's going to wake up soon."

I peek around the corner and see Kirishima leaning against the counter, grinning. Katsuki, on the other hand, looks as if he's ready to throw Kirishima out the window.

"Seriously, man. What's the worst that could happen? She says no? Big deal," Kirishima persists.

Katsuki's eyes narrow, and I can almost see the steam rising from his head. "I'm not interested in your stupid dating advice. Now, get lost."

Kirishima chuckles, clearly unfazed by Katsuki's threats. "Alright, alright. But seriously, think about it. You're too wound up. Getting laid might do you some good."

I hesitate for a moment, debating whether to interrupt or retreat back to the room. But before I can decide, Katsuki's eyes flick over to where I'm standing.

"Oi, what are you doing sneaking around?" he barks, his scowl softening slightly when he sees me.

Kirishima looks my way, eyeballing my sleepshirt and instantly recognizing it as Katsuki's. Eijiro's grin widens. "Hey there! Sleep well?"

I manage a small smile, stepping fully into the kitchen. "As well as I could, considering the circumstances."

Katsuki rolls his eyes. "Great, now both of you are annoying me. Kirishima was just leaving."

Kirishima raises his hands in mock surrender. "Fine, fine. I'll leave you two alone. But seriously, think about what I said." With that, he gives me a wink and heads for the door, leaving me alone with Katsuki.

"So," I begin, trying to break the tension, "who's the lucky girl?"

Katsuki's scowl deepens, but I can see a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. "None of your business," he mutters, turning away to busy himself with whatever he's cooking.

I can't help but smile. This is going to be an interesting morning.

As Kirishima's footsteps fade down the hallway, I move further into the kitchen, my stomach rumbling in anticipation. Katsuki is already at the stove, his movements efficient and precise as he works on breakfast.

I glance around, trying to find something useful to do. "What can I help with?" I ask.

"Just sit down and try not to get in my way," Katsuki grumbles, clearly annoyed this morning. He tosses a few herbs into a bowl and then starts cracking eggs.

Ignoring his suggestion, I grab a knife and begin chopping some random vegetables I find on the counter. "So," I venture, "what's Kirishima going on about? Who's this girl?"

Katsuki stiffens slightly, his focus still on the stove. "I told you, it's none of your business."

"Come on, Katsuki. I'm your best friend. You can tell me," I coax, hoping to lighten the mood. "You never talk girls with me."

He sighs, finally looking over at me, his eyes narrowing. "It's just someone Kirishima thinks I should ask out. He's got this idea that I need a girlfriend or something."

"Well, do you?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

Katsuki shrugs, clearly uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. "I don't know. Maybe. It's not that simple."

"We don't have to talk about her. You'll share once you're ready."

He grunts in response and goes back to cooking. As we work side by side, I can't help but think about the night before. Katsuki, drunk and vulnerable, had confessed that he loved me. The memory sends a shiver down my spine. Did he mean it? Does he remember? So far, he hasn't mentioned it, and I’m not sure if I should bring it up.

"How'd you sleep?" he asks suddenly, breaking the silence.

"Good," I reply. "You have a comfy bed."

He chuckles, a rare sound that warms my heart. "Yeah, well, don't get used to it. I don't usually let freeloaders sleep with me."

"Freeloader? Me?" I feign indignation. "I seem to recall you begging me to stay."

Katsuki freezes for a moment, clearly not remembering that portion of last night.

"Yeah, yeah," he mutters, his face turning slightly pink as he looks away.

As we finish cooking and sit down to eat, the tension lingers in the air. Katsuki seems more snippy than usual, snapping at small things and fidgeting with his food.

"Hey, Kats," I begin, trying to sound casual. "How about we do something fun today? Maybe hit the beach?"

He looks up, a bit surprised. "The beach? Why?"

I shrug, smiling. "Why not? It's a nice day, and we could use some fresh air. Besides, I love the ocean."

Katsuki considers this for a moment, then nods. "Fine. Takoba?"

"Sounds perfect," I agree, feeling a surge of excitement. "I'll go get ready."

An hour later, we find ourselves at Takoba Municipal Beach Park. The sun is shining brightly, and the sound of waves crash against the shore. I quickly set my beach bag down and meet Katsuki by the water's edge. He’s already shirtless and ready to dive in, his usual scowl softened by the sun and sea breeze.

"Ready?" he asks, a hint of a challenge in his voice.

"Always," I reply, grinning.

Without another word, we both run into the water, the coolness a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the day. We swim and splash around, laughing and teasing each other, the earlier tension forgotten. We're back to being normal.

After a while, we take a break, floating lazily on our backs and looking up at the clear sky. "This was a good idea," Katsuki admits quietly.

"I'm glad you think so," I reply, glancing over at him. "We should do this more often."

He nods, a smile crossing his face. "Yeah, maybe."

I shift in the water before swimming out deeper into the waves.

"Where are you going?" Katsuki hollers at me but I don't answer, letting the salty waves carry me further. The gentle roar of the ocean muffles his voice, but I can still catch the irritation in his tone.

After a few moments, I hear water splashing behind me. I turn around to see Katsuki cutting through the water, closing the distance between us. He reaches me quickly, a playful grin on his face.

"Trying to get away from me?" he questions.

I laugh, treading water as I meet his gaze. "Just enjoying the ocean. You should try it," I tease, splashing a bit of water in his direction.

Katsuki narrows his eyes, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Don't tell me what to enjoy!" he retorts, splashing me back.

"Bet you can't catch me," I challenge, diving beneath the surface. The cool water envelops me as I swim deeper.

I surface a few yards away, gasping for air and grinning. My eyes scan the water, searching for Katsuki. I feel a splash behind me and turn just in time to see him diving after. My heart pounds with excitement as I take off again, swimming as fast as I can.

"You're not getting away that easily!" Katsuki shouts, his voice carrying over the water.

I laugh, glancing back at him. "You're too slow grandpa!"

We weave through the water, darting around each other in a playful game of cat and mouse. I dive under the water again, trying to put some distance between us. The ocean feels alive around us, the waves buoying us up and pulling us down.

I surface once more, farther out this time, and look around. Katsuki is closer than I expected. I squeal and try to swim away, but his hand wraps around my ankle, pulling me back.

"Got you!" he declares triumphantly, his grip strong but careful.

For a moment, we just float there, his hand still on my wrist, our bodies close in the water. I look into his eyes, the playful glint replaced by something more intense, more serious. My heart pounds in my chest, and I can feel the heat rising to my cheeks despite the cool water around us.

"You're not getting away that easily," he murmurs, his voice low.

I smile, leaning in a little closer. "Maybe I don't want to get away," I whisper, my eyes flicking down to his lips and then back up to meet his gaze.

Katsuki's eyes widen slightly, and I can see the conflict in them. He's always so guarded, so tough, but in this moment, he's considering the possibility.

Before he can overthink, I press my lips to his. The kiss is tentative at first, testing, but when he doesn't pull away, I deepen it, pouring all the unspoken words and feelings into the touch. His grip on my wrist tightens, and then his other arm wraps around my waist, pulling me closer. My legs instinctively wrap around his waist, intertwining our bodies into one.

The world fades away, leaving just the two of us, floating in the endless expanse of the ocean. His lips are surprisingly soft, and I can taste the salt of the sea on his skin. He kisses me back with a fervor that takes my breath away, his usual brashness tempered by something tender and raw.

When we finally break apart, we're both breathless, our foreheads resting against each other.

"You're full of surprises," he says, his voice husky.

I laugh softly, leaning away to brush a wet strand of hair away from his face. "So are you,"

For a moment, we just stay there, holding onto each other, the waves gently rocking us. The beach, the sun, the world—all of it fades into the background, leaving just the two of us, connected in a way we've never been before.

"I guess this means you don't mind me sticking around," I say, a playful note in my voice.

Katsuki chuckles. "Yeah, I guess not," he admits, his grip on me tightening slightly. "Just don't get used to it."

I grin, leaning in to kiss him again. "Too late," I whisper against his lips before capturing them once more, feeling like I've finally found where I belong.

It finally happened! Did you guys enjoy this series?

Tags: @beekeepingageissome @emmab3mma @bakugouswh0r3

[of-many-fandomss]

jake seresin being drunk and coming home to the reader and it's basically just really cute and full of fluff!!

My first top gun blurb!! (I’m so mad I had to rewrite this cause it deleted the first time and it isn’t as good this time cause I don’t remember what I wrote)

—————

Jake was vaguely aware of the fact that he reeked of alcohol, but he couldn’t really find it in himself to care as he stumbled through the short hall towards his bedroom, making a small game out of trying not to hit the walls in his drunken state.

Rooster had just dropped him off at home after a ‘guys night out’ at the Hard Deck for their first week off in a long time that may or may not have ended in one too many beers. Originally, he had insisted on staying home with you, to which you laughed and practically had to tackle him out the door to make sure he went to enjoy himself with his friend.

Clumsily, Jake flailed around for the handle, but stopped short as soon as he threw the door open. A person was sitting up against the headboard of his bed, eyes widening a little bit in surprise as they looked up from the book they held open in their lap.

A small smile formed on your lips at the sight of him standing in your doorway looking around in confusion, noticing right away that he was slightly drunk.

“Hey, honey-“

“Who are you?” He hissed in a whisper, “What are you doing in my house?”

The grin widened on your face when you realized just how drunk he was, and you feigned confusion, deciding to play along, “What do you mean?”

He sighed patiently, “Listen, you look lovely, but that’s my girlfriends spot you’re sitting on. And I really love her, so you need to leave.”

“I am your girlfriend,” You smirked, sliding off the bed and striding across the room until you were standing right in front of him, knowing full well that the two of you had been happily married for just over two years. But you also knew from past experiences that mentioning that would send your husband into a whole different spiral of emotions in his drunken state.

His eyes squinted at you until his mouth dropped open in realization and he relaxed, “Oh, darlin’ thank goodness your back,” His southern accent was thicker than it normally was when he was sober, “There was this women on your side of the bed, but I told her to get lost because I love you!” He stated proudly.

“Good job, honey,” You cooed out your praise, bringing his arm to rest around your shoulder so that you could lead him into the bathroom.

You sat him down on the closed toilet seat and made your way over to the sink to get him a cup of water, his eyes trailing after you in adoration the whole way, before you came back and handed it to him, “Drink all of this for me, will you, honey?”

“Yes, ma’am,” He murmured, causing your lips to quirk up slightly.

“I’ll be right back, I’m gonna go get you something more comfortable to wear for bed,” You gave him a quick kiss on the top of the hair before leaving the bathroom.

He frowned after you, rocking back and forth against the seat and waited for you to return.

You barley even stepped foot back into the room a moment later before he sprang up and came barreling towards you, wrapping you into a bone-crushing embrace tightly, burying his face into your hair, “Thank goodness your back!” He gushed, “I missed you so much when you were gone!”

Laugher bubbled up inside you as you wrapped your arms around your husbands torso in return, “I wasn’t gone that long, Jakey.”

“It was too long,” He whimpered back.

Carefully, you pried his hands off of you after a moment and handed him a stack of folded sleep clothes you had just taken out of his drawer.

“Can you get changed?” You asked, to which he nodded his head excitedly and whipped around, accidentally knocking over the half full cup that he had placed on the ground in the process.

“Oh, here, I got-“

“I got it!” He interrupted you excitedly, not even hesitating to shed off his shirt and bend down to start mopping the water off the floor with it.

You blinked once at his toned back, chuckling slightly to yourself at how fast he had reacted to reveal his bare top to clean up a small pile of water.

He stopped suddenly, smirking up at you, “Unless you would rather take off your shirt and do this,”

That at least emitted a loud laugh at you as you shook your head at your cocky husbands antics and helped pull him to his feet once he was all done cleaning up his mess.

You helped him put on the rest of his pajamas- mostly just making sure he didn’t fall into the bathtub- before taking his hand and starting to pull him to the room so that you could both go to sleep.

You were stopped though at a tug of resistance you felt on your arm, and you looked back to question Jake, only to find him frowning down at your intertwined fingers.

“What’s wrong, honey?” You asked worriedly.

Slowly, he lifted your hand to reveal none other than the breathtakingly beautiful, shiny ring that he had used to propose to you with a couple years ago, “You’re cheating on me?” He asked quietly, a look of nothing but devastating heartbreak on his face.

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly before your eyes widened, remembering that you had let him believe that you were still boyfriend and girlfriend, “No, no, Jakey! You’re my husband! We’re married!”

His eyes snapped up to you as his bottom lip quivered and tears began to sine in his eyes, “We are?” He addled quietly.

You quickly took his face between your hands and made him look you in the eyes, “Yes! We’ve been married for two years now!”

Automatically, as if nothing had happened, his features cleared of all sorrow and he grinned at you with a lovesick expression, “Oh, that’s good.”

You threw your head back with a laugh, continuing your journey to the bed, “Yes, that’s very good.”

Even as you helped him slide under the covers, he never once took his gaze off of you, and as you tried to move to get the light switch, you felt his strong but gentle grip stop you once more, “You’re pretty,” He commented, gaze wide and childlike.

You had to physically stop yourself from laughing, knowing that it would do nothing but upset his feelings because he never called you pretty. It was always gorgeous, stunning, beautiful, sexy- not pretty.

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” You teased, unconsciously moving a hair out of his face.

“Nuh uh!” He exclaimed, shaking his head back and forth widely, “Only you!”

Your heart melted right then and there and you bent down and placed a lingering kiss on his forehead, “Thank you, Jake.”

Yet again, you tried to go and move, but his hand was still to let go of yours, so you turned back to him to see what he needed.

His eyebrows were furrowed as he looked at you, “What about me?” He demanded.

“What about you?” You asked in curiosity.

“Am I pretty?” Within his tipsy state, he wasn’t even joking, making the situation that much funnier.

You chucked slightly, placing a soft kiss on the tip of his nose, “The prettiest,” You promise.

“Nuh uh!” He protested once more.

“And why’s that?” Your eyebrows rose.

“Because you’re the prettiest,” He said in a ‘duh’ tone, “I’m the… second prettiest!”

You laughed again, squeezing his hand lovingly, “The second prettiest it is, then.”

This time, he let you turn off the lights, and by the time you turned back to the bed, his breathing had already evened out and his chest was falling up and down steadily.

[milliesfishes]

⋆౨ৎ𝓗𝓪𝓵𝓯 𝓛𝓲𝓯𝓮⋆౨ৎ

[fem reader] contains: depression, animal abandonment pairing: billy the kid x fem reader summary: you aren't the same after you were kidnapped author’s note: I'm half dead, I hope this is good <3 Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

The sky was dark, the grayness of it expanding as far as the eye could see with the promise of rain. It painted everything near in a melancholy shadow, like the world was a ghost of itself.

This was not the way Billy had hoped to bring you home.

As he ushered you through the open space between his horse and the house, standing like a figure in the distance, he noticed the door was ajar. The miniscule detail heightened the already-present guilt inside him, but he pushed it down deep, instead focusing on you.

Rubbing your shoulders comfortingly, Billy ensured your steps were steady as he guided you up the stairs, nudging at the gap in the door with his foot to open it without letting go of you. The deafening quiet of the house met his ears, and he nearly cringed at the emptiness of it. Billy had really only ever known these four walls to hold light and laughter and love, three things always associated with you. The girl under his arm was a mere notion of that, nothing more.

Images of you tied, gagged, and crying invaded Billy's vision, and he tried to shake them away as he shut the door behind you. The last day had been tumultuous, overflowing with worry. Memories didn't come forth, only brief images accompanied by emotion. He'd ridden like mad trying to find you, cursing the roots of the ones who'd taken his girl away from him.

He didn't want to think about that right now. About the bloodbath that had ensued, about the sight of your fear-stricken body taut in his arms. Blinking once, Billy re-twined his arm around you, rubbing your side and dropping a kiss to your silken hair. Still soft after your whole ordeal.

You turned to face him, and he went numb at the look in your eyes. Stolen joy, replaced with an awful replica, a renewed safety that didn't fill near the space of what had been taken. Billy squeezed your hip, lifting his hand to trace the apple of your cheek. "It's okay." They were the only words he could think to breathe into the tension of the air.

The gentle padding of little footsteps descended, and the next thing Billy knew, the body of your cat, fur dark as midnight, was rubbing against his legs, weaving in and around them like the path of a river. A smile crossed Billy as he realized, and he looked to you somewhat excitedly. "Look, sweetheart, it's Fish. Bet he's missed you."

Your body gave a jolt when the cat nudged his furry face into your calf, as if to ask where you'd been. Billy's face fell into worry when you didn't bend to scratch Fish's ears or pick him up as he'd thought you would. Instead, your face was pressed to his chest, fingers clenching the leather of one suspender in an attempt to pull him closer somehow.

Fish seemed put off, sitting on his hind legs and craning his neck up as he meowed. All Billy could do was look helplessly at the little creature over your shoulder, fingers caressing the length of your spine as he attempted to inject comfort into you through his touch. After such a spot of trauma, he'd thought, hoped that your beloved pet would bring you some semblance of normalcy.

The afternoon bled into night, darkening the corners of the earth and further leading you into dread for the sleep ahead. Billy managed to coax you into bed, your spot between his arms beckoning. He promised that you didn't have to sleep, but it'd do you some good to at least lie down. Holding you, he tried to ignore the angry welts where the ropes had stung at your wrists, the marks for which there was no balm except time.

Your eyes were open, hair spread across his chest like a splayed, outstretched wildflower. He sifted his fingers through it, letting the quiet linger. He wore no shirt, knowing how much you loved having his skin right against yours. Maybe it would inspire sleep; that feeling of being comfortable.

Billy hated feeling helpless, but there was hardly anything else to do. there were things floating in your mind that he couldn't fix. There was very little to resolve with his capabilities. For now all he could do was hold you, guarantee your safety.

There was a little mew, and then light pressure on the mattress as Fish sprang up onto the bed. Normally it was a routine- Billy would fix himself against your back, arms slung around your waist, and Fish would curl up on your other side. You'd been falling asleep with him like that for longer than Billy had known you, and so when he began to occupy the same bed he simply adjusted himself around it. It was a cozy thing; the image of you cuddling with both him and the cat.

Right now, your stomach was pressed to Billy's side, ear resting on his heart. Fish pushed his head against your back, wanting you to turn around. But you were still, seemingly immune to the cat's wishes.

After a few tries, Fish gave up, opting to pad over to Billy's side and slump defeatedly by his hip. He lifted a hand, trailing his fingers over Fish's head, trying to convey that you didn't mean it, that you just weren't feeling your best. The poor creature didn't even know what happened.

All he knew was that his favorite person in the world was refusing to even look at him.

Everything about healing is arduous. If it happens too quickly, it didn't happen right. Billy tried to keep this in mind as he marched through every day, holding your hand through some, but carrying you most.

The nightmares. Every time you drifted into sleep, Billy hoped it would be a longer stretch than the previous night before you were inevitably woken by strains of the subconscious. He'd hear the familiar strains of sniffling, feel teardrops rain on his chest, and just know.

"Shh, sweet girl," Billy murmured one night after a particularly harrowing dream, fitting his palm under your nightdress over your back and hoping the heat of it would bring you down. "'S okay. I've gotcha. You're safe, I'm here."

You gasped, letting out a little sob that broke his heart. Billy dressed you in his arms, fingers falling over you like the petals of a flower kissing the bud. He held you tight, his body a shelter to your internal storms. It was a strange thing to hide from something inside by gravitating outward.

What truly saddened Billy was the clear contrast between your former and current being. When he'd met you, it was as if you were the goddess of spring herself, a sunbeam fallen to earth with the sole intention of brightening it. He swore flowers sprung up in your path, everything you touched glittered.

Now you were somber, retreated into the oceans of your own feelings. How swiftly your demeanor had changed in the wake of the horrible event of your kidnapping. With every crystally pearl that slipped from your formerly bright eyes, every shudder that racked you when he extended a comforting hand to your arm, he wished he hadn't been so swift in ending the lives of those who'd persecuted you. They deserved something slower, a twisting knife so they knew exactly what they'd done.

He reached for your waist, pulling you to sit on his lap and lower your head to his shoulder. Stretching a palm across your back, Billy began to tilt his body back and forth, rocking you soothingly and whispering, "Was just a dream, baby. 's all over now. You're gonna be okay." You let out a shuddering gasp, burying your face in his chest as the aftershocks of your nightmare shook your body.

Fish sleepily lifted his head from where he was sleeping at Billy's side, seeming to notice your distress. He arched his back in a stretch that nearly made him vibrate, pressing his cheek to your elbow. The touch made you stiffen, and you burrowed further into Billy, avoiding the cat's touch. That same stab of secondhand guilt cut him, and he exhaled softly, digging his nose into your hair. He wasn't the only one saddened by your troubles as of late.

Days pooled themselves, saving up to become weeks, and Billy was worried by your state. The nightmares continued, disturbing your sleep sometimes multiple times after dark. Aside from that, you were nearly a ghost when the sun was up, hardly lucid, tethered to the rock of that horrible day when you'd been taken.

You were rapidly losing weight, your skin paling. He was diligent about feeding you, but you ate very little. The pillars of your light were burning out one by one, as much as he could see you didn't want them to.

Drawn and quiet, your days were filled with the sound of silence. You occupied yourself half-heartedly with light tasks, and it instilled an ache in him- how diligently you tried to resume normalcy. He watched you sew and read and prepare meals, trying to resume your life as it was before. But all it seemed to do was push you further adrift in your sorrow.

Even the simplest of tasks, like brushing your hair, could send you into a fit of tears. That time, he'd heard the hairbrush clatter to the floor and sprang to his feet, racing to your side and gathering you in his arms. You were falling and he was trying desperately to hold you up.

The situation with Fish only grew worse. You outright refused to interact with the poor cat at all. He meowed at you for love and you ignored him, not even turning your head.

The poor cat would come pitifully to Billy after each rejection, tail metaphorically between his legs. Fish was long used to being shown nothing but love by you, and this sudden turn must have been jarring for him. It was a strange thing for Billy to behold as well. The sight of you cuddling the cat, even giving him kisses, was as ordinary as the sky's color before the events of your kidnapping. Things had changed, and not for the better.

Every night, Fish reattempted to resume the routine with you, meowing and trying to lay against you. And every night you would turn away from him, your back a cold declination.

He would have thought you were being cruel. But he knew you were hurting, that the pain was creeping in and making a home in your bones. The woman he loved wouldn't hurt anything on purpose. And so he took up the duty of comforting your cat, holding you with one arm and scratching Fish behind the ears with his opposite hand.

One night as you were lying facing him on the pillows, head nestled in the crook of your arm, you murmured, "You don't need to supervise me all the time, you know. You could go back to work."

Billy lifted his head, his thumb stroking the inside of your elbow. "Not when you're not feelin' well," he whispered. "Sweetheart, I'm tryin' to take care of you."

"It must be exhausting." You shifted on your side. "Constantly watching me." Your words were spoken dully, with little tone and even less volume.

Letting out a breath, Billy propped himself up on an elbow, searching your eyes. He held your hand between you, running the pad of his finger over the bump of your knuckles. "Exhausting? No. Never. But I'm worried, darlin'. 'bout you."

You turned on your back, staring at the ceiling. "I'm fine."

The flat delivery of your words was almost worse than if you'd screamed them. He let out a humorless laugh. "Sweeheart, you ain't been fine in weeks. You won't eat or speak...you won't even pet your cat."

His words rendered you silent, and you searched the ceiling as if it held the answers to life's greatest questions. Fish chose this moment to leap onto the bed, pawing at your thigh. Something seemed to snap in you, and you swept a hand out, pushing him away. "Stop it, Fish."

Billy frowned, sitting up and letting the covers fall to his thighs. "Baby, don't take it out on the cat. He ain't done nothin', just tryna give you love." Fish approached you again, and you huffed, turning away. Billy shook his head, his heart clenching. "Honey, c'mon now."

You sat up and drew your legs to your chest, like two spindly branches folding in the wind. Burying your face in your knees, you took in a shaky staccato breath, nails digging into your skin. Billy reached out a hand, rubbing it up and down your back. Your behavior had long since crossed over into the territory of being out of character. It was as if a ghost had inhabited the space you once took up.

He was well aware of what you were doing, even if it wasn't purposeful. Shutting out the world, pushing him away. You were a spectre lying in the bed where his sweetheart used to sleep. Billy sat there in silence, recalling how many times he'd attempted to maneuver you out of yourself again. And he wondered if that version of you was even still there.

Then you sniffled, lifting your head and reaching out for him. He could read the early signs of tears, sense the ache that resided within you. And in an instant, all doubts ceased. His girl was still in there. She had to be.

Billy's arms encircled you, pulling you tight into his body and tucking your head under his chin. When your face was buried in his chest, your body began to shake, little tremors cutting through your being. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I love you." Your voice was edged with sobs the way curtains were with lace.

The words tore right through him as if he were the page of a book, and he pressed his lips into your hair. "Shhh...don't apologize. I love you too, I love you so much. I just wish you'd let me in, my love. Let me help you."

"I don't wanna hurt you..." you choked, trembling under his gentle touch. "I can't get better..."

"Hey...that ain't true, baby," Billy whispered, his brow furrowing. "You can-"

"I don't deserve to get better," you sniffled. That sentence broke his heart worse than anything that had happened thus far.

Billy drew you close, nuzzling his cheek against your head. "My love, you deserve every good thing in the world." He pulled back for a moment, tilting your tearstained face up so he could see your eyes. "'n gettin' better's a damn good thing."

Your lower lip trembled just slightly, and Billy stroked your hair. It was devastatingly clear how badly you were hurting. So he gave you the only thing he truly knew how to do. Love.

He swaddled you in his arms, and you clung to him, nudging yourself close. Stroking your waist, Billy eased gentle kisses into your hair. "I'm here," he murmured. "I ain't goin' anywhere, sweet girl. 'm here."

Fish didn't even try to go to you that night. He just went straight to Billy.

Like a flower, you had been withering, petals stiffening and crinkling, floating down to the ground at your feet. He could see how frozen you were in your sad metamorphosis, clawing desperately at your own skin to get out of it.

He saw it in the way you looked at Fish, curled up against his leg. It was obvious how awful you felt about your maltreatment of the cat, but you were too lost in the waves of your depression to pull out and fix it. Billy grasped at the shreds of you left behind, tried to piece them together and show you the beauty of them.

He saw it in the way you clung to him, the love you felt a facet of yourself you'd never let go of. And he was glad for that, more than anything. It gave him hope. Love could solve anything with time and patience, he knew.

And so, he gave it tenfold, covering you in kisses and in cuddles. He made sure to hold you tight in the morning, especially after a rough night, whispering his love for you over and over again. Though he tried to hide it, his affections held a desperate edge. With every touch he seemed to whisper, please come back to me.

Over time, little signs seemed to reveal themselves, signs you were getting better. It was like seeing the first sparkle of a lake at sunrise, like witnessing a flower open its petals. You began to come to life again. He didn't comment on it, worried it would cause you to retreat back into yourself or tease out any worries. Instead, he continued to love on you.

He noticed you standing on the porch at sunset one evening, looking out into the cloudy sky streaked with orange. There was a light sheen of rain drizzling over the earth, and you seemed transfixed by it. Billy leaned against the doorway, silently watching you extend a hand, tentatively letting the rain kiss your fingers.

Then, slowly, hesitantly, a tiny smile twitched at your lips.

It was like seeing the sun after a storm, like the first sign of hope in a crisis. Billy felt it hit him like a bolt of lightning, bubbling in his chest and threatening to spill over. His eyes stayed glued to you, sure it was a trick of the light, a flicker that would fade into black.

But then you turned to him, corners of your mouth turning up more by the minute. And he couldn’t hold back anymore.

Billy moved forward, bridging the gap and pulling you into his arms, crushing you against his chest. He kissed the top of your head, emotion welling up in his being and overflowing into his actions.

You slid your arms around him, seeming confused. “Billy? What is it?” The rain was pouring harder, beating against the roof of the porch in the same rhythm as his heart.

Hope was coursing through him in a river. He was too overwhelmed to speak for a moment. When he finally found his words, all he could manage was “You’re…you’re smilin’.”

Your features softened. “Oh, Billy.”

His fingers tangled in your hair, heel of his palm on your cheek. You tilted your head up, nudging your nose against him. He saw daylight in your eyes, something golden and bright on the horizon. Billy felt like it was the first time he’d ever seen you, like he was a younger man dizzy under the spell of new love. And he let himself get hit over and over again.

“My sweet girl,” he breathed, searching your eyes. “My baby…”

You lifted yourself on your tiptoes, brushing your lips gently against his. Billy pressed his body to yours, holding you close as you smiled into the kiss. He caressed you like your body was built from gold, breathed into life by angels.

The sight of you smiling, kissing him, the beginnings of light brightening your entire being, spurred his actions, and his mouth dragged against yours, holding you in a kiss that stopped time. He pressed little pecks to your parted lips. “My sweet girl…my beautiful girl…”

You held to him, body practically melting against his. Arms encircling your waist, Billy breathed easy. Tilting your head up, you murmured, “You never gave up on me.”

“Never,” he responded instantly, nudging his lips to your forehead. “You’re a part of me. Lettin’ go of you would be like lettin’ go of my heart.”

“I wouldn’t have blamed you if you did,” you whispered, cheek on his shoulder. “I’ve been exhausting. And difficult. And unresponsive.”

“You were hurtin’,” Billy shook his head, lavishing another kiss to the border of your hairline. "You went through a bad thing. Anybody woulda reacted the same way."

"But I hurt you," you whispered, horror outlining your words. "And I hurt Fish..." Saying it out loud seemed to weaken you, and Billy held fast to your figure. "I pushed him..."

"Hey...hey, sweetheart, it's okay," Billy said softly, caressing your cheek. "It's okay. Me 'n Fish knew it wasn't personal. We knew our girl was in there somewhere." His hand traced the line of your jaw, reveling in the sight of the beginnings of healing. "We knew you'd come back to us. And even if you didn't, we'd love you anyways."

Every word that poured from his lips was knotted with sincerity, painting an idyllic picture that seemed to wash over you. The rain was slowing down, and you were breathing steady, and Billy swore he could see your soul glowing from the inside out, as if you were stardust. He wouldn't have been surprised if you were.

Between the sheets, your phantoms were stilled for the night, and you laid peacefully in his arms, like the space between them had been carved to fit you. Your name was the title of his story, your handwriting in the margins, your pen underlining his captivation. A week ago he would have thought this an illusion. His girl, happy beginning to seep back into her veins where it belonged.

The familiar thump on the mattress signaled Fish's nightly arrival, and he padded over to you, meowing curiously and half-heartedly rubbing his cheek to your shoulder. Billy exhaled softly, preparing to comfort the cat from your actions borne of grief.

But you reached out a hand, tracing a finger under Fish's cheek and smiling when he began to purr, stretching his neck so your nail would scratch the sweet spot on his neck. You shifted in Billy's arms, so your back was to his chest and his arms were folded over your belly.

Your movements were careful, almost as if you were waiting for the cat's forgiveness. But Fish curled around you like nothing had changed since the night before you were taken, the pleasant vibration of his purring filling the air. Breathing a laugh of delight, you held the cat close to your chest, stroking his head as you eased back into your place.

Billy felt his heart swell at the sight, and he squeezed you to his chest, kissing your temple and taking in the picture he'd have burned into his eyes for eternity if he could. The rough terrain was smoothing out, the seas ahead were tranquil. Spring was resting its soft hand upon the earth and you were healing bit by bit, washed anew by the rain.

All was right with the world.

[topsytervy]

Safe - Leon Kennedy

synopsis: After returning from a mission, Leon wants to make sure you're safe.

word count: 883

warnings: Leon sneaks into the reader's house, a teeny mention of injury, like one swear word, grammar/spelling mistakes.

*Please don't sneak into people's houses, thanks. I don't condone it. *

~~~

Leon quietly unlocked the door to your apartment, slipping inside and closing the door silently. 

He always felt weird doing this, coming in during ridiculous hours of the night after missions. 

You had given him a spare key to your place after you had slipped in the bathroom one time, stepping out of the shower while Leon was on his way over to pick you up for a date, smacking your head off the side of your tub. Leon had kicked in your locked door after you hadn't opened the door when he knocked or answered his phone call, finding you unconscious on the bathroom floor which sent him into a panic. 

You handed him the spare key when you got home from the hospital, telling him to use it in the future and not his foot but you were grateful he did break down your door to help you out. 

Leon didn’t come in to be creepy but sometimes, sometimes, when he was getting back at stupid hours of the night and he didn’t want to wake you with a phone call -which was his usual method of making sure you were alright when it wasn’t two in the morning- he would come over, checking to see that you were there, sleeping in your bed, perfectly fine and looking peaceful as ever. 

He just needed that reassurance that you were safe. That’s the only thing he wanted in life. 

Still in his tactical gear, he made his way down the hall as silently as he could, knowing your entire floor plan like the back of his hand. 

As he approached your bedroom door, Leon lightly pushed it open, eyes immediately going to your bed that was pushed against the wall in the corner, laying in the middle but slightly closer to the wall, your back towards him. 

He let himself relax a bit at the sight, staying there for a couple of minutes to burn this into his mind so he wouldn’t have to think about the horrors he just endured. 

You were here. You were safe. Nothing could hurt you. 

Leon snapped back to reality when he saw you roll over, eyes opening slightly before you jumped, eyes widening as you pushed yourself against the wall. 

Leon tensed, a feeling of dread taking over as he realized you had just caught him, in your apartment, without your permission, at 2 AM, just staring at you. 

He froze as he imagined the next few moments playing out in his mind. You’d yell at him, calling him a creep and telling him to get out of your life, to stay the hell away from you. 

He watched as you put a hand to your chest as you let out a breath, his mouth going dry as his mind desperately tried to think of a way to explain himself. 

“Jesus Leon,”  

“I’m sorry. I was just- I’m leaving,” he said quickly, turning away but your voice stopped him. 

“What? Why?” He turned to see your eyebrows furrowed and Leon felt his heart swell as he watched you lift your comforter slightly, “come to bed.” 

Leon hesitated, “I don’t know, princess. I haven't really showered yet, so I smell and I- “  

“Leon, I haven't seen you in almost two weeks and it's late and I just want to spend some time with you even if it's just us going to bed. I’ll be damned if a little BO is going to stop me from cuddling with my boyfriend.” You told him. 

Leon sighed as he stepped into your room, unlacing his boots and sliding them off, setting them by your desk before taking off his tactical gear and draping it over the back of your chair, taking extra care to put his gun and knife on your desk. 

He made his way over to your bed, you scooching closer to the wall so he could climb in, a smile on your face as he slid under the covers next to you, the denim of his jeans brushing against your bare legs. 

You cuddled into his chest, letting out a hum of approval as you felt Leons body relax, his eyes closing as he took a deep breath, letting himself bask in your warmth and presence, feeling the lack of sleep from his mission finally catching up to him. 

“Missed you, bubs,” you whispered, pressing a kiss into his shoulder. 

“Missed you too, princess.” He slurred, sleep approaching him fast as his eyelids got heavier with each moment. 

He felt you starting tracing random shapes on his arm as you mumbled, “you’re here, you’re safe, nothing can hurt you,” over and over. 

You didn’t know exactly what Leon’s job was, just that he worked for the government and whatever he did would take a toll on him negatively and was considered highly dangerous. He appreciated that you respected the fact that he couldn’t tell you anything and that despite not knowing anything about the terrors he went through, you were there to provide comfort and take his mind off it.  

Leon dropped his lips to your head, pressing a kiss there as he pulled you impossibly closer. 

He was safe and, most importantly, you were safe. 

Those were the only things that mattered to him. 

~~~

[golbrocklovely]

hunger // colby brock

A/N: this may or may not be based on a daydream i've had for a while. or honestly, a fic that i would love to write a whole story to but probably never will. vampire colby will always be my favorite. hope yall enjoy and lmk what you think ! happy haunting !

prompt: you wake up in an unfamiliar place. seeking shelter inside of a castle, you suddenly realize that everyone you know is a vampire, and you are the only human around. no one is going to save you, especially not the prince. || fem!reader x colby brock

trigger warning: angst, cursing, waking up in an alternative universe, you and snc are/were friends, and now… they don't know who you are, vampire!prince!colby, blood drinking, mentions of manipulation powers (but they don't work on you), being aggressively manhandled a bunch, you are treated like shit by everyone for the most part, weird flirting???, overall some sexual undertones, passing out/almost dying, twist ending?

word count: 2970

I was running as hard and as fast as I could through the thick forest. I had no recollection of how I got here. The last thing I remember was going to bed, then suddenly I awoke surrounded by trees as far as my eyes could see. I wasn't even in the same clothes I went to sleep in. I was now in an off-white dress that stopped just above my knees, sprinting bare foot through the woods. I could hear voices around me, almost getting closer any time I would stop. It's like they were toying with me, forcing me to run any time I felt like stopping. My feet were on fire, most likely bleeding, but I couldn't stop. I knew that if I did, I would be done for.

I would have screamed out for help, but it almost felt as if doing that would draw attention to me; attention that would get me sooner killed rather than saved.

I squinted up ahead, a clearing coming into view. A huge dark grey building of some sort was getting closer. All I had to do was get to it and maybe I would be safe.

I prayed that this was a dream, and I would soon wake up, but as the cuts in my feet told me otherwise. This was no dream. This was real, and I just needed to keep going.

I finally rested against a tree for a moment right at the edge of the building's property. As I caught my breath, I realized this was no ordinary building - it was a castle. Stone walls rose high into the sky, tiny windows adorning the tops of the towers. The doors to the castle were unguarded, at least from the outside, and the big iron doors beckoned me in. Seeking shelter or help was my only option. I knew staying in the forest wasn't safe. But something in me churned at the thought of what could be beyond the castle walls.

I trudged over to the doors slowly, glancing around me. No one was in sight, and I couldn't hear anything from outside to indicate there was life inside. But there had to be.... right?

I grabbed the handle, pulling open the door with all of my might. Medal cranking noises sounded off, reverberating inside the room. I stepped in and closed the door, turning around. No one was there. Not even a whisper of a soul.

I walked up the carpet that led to a thrown, embellished in gold and black accents. The plush carpets felt amazing against my sore feet. I observed the massive room, noting the other doorways and stairs leading to who knows where else in the castle. The marble floor sparkled in the light coming in through the stained-glass windows. There were gorgeous paintings hanging along the walls, assumingly of past rulers. What was odd was how almost gruesome the paintings were - depicting beheadings and blood and gore. Not only that, but every single ruler had red eyes. Some even had blood dripping from their mouths.

One painting in particular caught my eye. It looked recent, and the man was sitting on the same thrown in this room. His was not as gruesome as the others, but something in his eyes was colder than all the rest. He didn't have to have the blood or gore to come across as scary. He just was. But his face... it looked eerily familiar to someone I knew. Someone that was my friend.

There was no way it could have been him. It had to be someone else.

"Hello, precious child." A voice rang out sinisterly, causing chills to run up my spine.

I spun around, my eyes landing on a man. He was tall with dark hair, and his clothing was formal and royal in dark blues and blacks. His eyes were almost neon red. His wicked smile gleamed in the light; fangs sharp as knives glaring back at me.

That couldn't be right...

"Boo." Another man's voice whispered behind me. I jumped, ready to scream, but a hand covered my mouth. An arm wrapped around me tightly, almost taking the air out of me as he squeezed. The person holding me laughed maniacally, finding it hilarious as I struggled against his hold. He was taller than me as well, and from the corner of my eye I could see his dark red hair hitting his shoulder as he held me.

"Now, now, Theo. You know how he will feel about us playing with our food." The man in front of me stated nonchalantly, slowly walking towards us.              

"But Alek... she smells so good. It was so much fun chasing her outside," Theo snickered behind me. He pressed his nose against my neck, breathing in my scent deeply. "God, what I would do for a bite of her right now."

"I know it was, but you know what Samuel will say." Alek rolled his eyes, placing his hands on his hips, "And not to mention what he'll tell the prince."

"Screw them both! We found her first. We get first dibs." Theo growled bitterly, gripping me harder.

"Her fear is palpable.... that makes her blood all the more yummy." Alek's eyes danced across my body, his gaze lingering on my neck. "I not only thirst for your blood, sweetheart, but you.... have made me lascivious."

"Fuck you!" I spat, thrashing forward in Theo's arms.

Alek reeled back and slapped me, my face almost slamming into Theo's shoulder. "What a depraved mouth on such a tiny, little thing. For that alone I should drain you dr-"

"Are you two done yet? Because it is exhausting hearing you speak sometimes." Another voice cut through, sounding all too familiar.

All our heads turned towards one of the entrances. Standing there in all his glory, was Sam. My friend. But he looked... very different. He was a vampire, much like Theo and Alek. His hair was slicked back, and his clothing was similar to theirs, except in red and black with silver accents. His eyes were on me, but there was no sign he knew who I was.

My eyes widened at the sight of him, my breath hitched in my throat. "S-Sam?"

He cocked his head, raising an eyebrow at my voice. "How informal of you." He glanced at Theo and Alek, "Release her."

Theo's arms dropped me, my body almost crashing to the floor. Sam suddenly appeared in front of me, his hands grabbing at my wrists. He kept me close as he looked into my eyes. He searched my face for something, but I couldn't tell what it was.

"What is your name?" He asked calmly.

I thought for a moment of saying it but held my tongue. I grimaced at him, remaining silent.

"Oh, so now the wench has no words?" Alek snapped, grunting behind me.

"If I were you, I would be more like her." Sam narrowed his eyes at them both, "You as well, Theo."

"What did we do?" Theo barked, whining.

He blinked, annoyed. "You had plans to hide her away and feast upon her. You know the rules. The prince gets first taste."

"But we hunted her down. We found her in the forbidden forest." Alek argued, his voice hanging like venom in the air.

"And you allowed her into the castle when you should have been standing guard. You let a human in just to be food. We do not run our kingdom like that anymore." He gazed over at Theo, his voice just as pointed, "And your little comment, Theo… you are lucky King Henrik is not around. That sass alone would have gotten you beheaded instantly."

"May he rest in peace." The men behind me mumbled.

Sam finally turned back to me, a polite smile that did not reach his eyes resting on his face. "Where are my manners? My apologies. We were having a conversation. Now again, what is your name?"

I turned my head away, not knowing what else to do.

Sam hummed, his one hand leaving my arm. He brushed a finger against my turned cheek, forcibly turning my head back to him. "I'm doing everything in my power to remain kind to you. Don't push your luck."

"Fuck. You." I whispered harshly, a quiet tear streaming down my face. I didn't even realize I was close to crying, or that tears had welled up at all.

"You have guts, sweetheart. Too bad those with guts are killed first." Sam spoke softly, but with a vicious tongue. "The prince will be here shortly. Hold her."

Theo and Alek each took an arm of mine, holding me tightly. I tried to shake them off, to no avail. In a loud booming noise, the doors behind the thrown opened widely. A tall man walked through; his head held high. His eyes narrowed at the sight of all of us. Royal garb adorned his body, all black with gold detailing. As my eyes fell upon his face, my mouth gaped at him. It was Colby.

"What the fuck?" I uttered, stunned.

"Is that the only word you know how to say?" Colby questioned coolly. He stopped in front of me, taking all of me in for a moment. "Ever since you stepped foot into my castle, all I've heard from that pretty mouth of yours is 'fuck'."

"Bow before the prince, harlot." Theo hissed.

They dropped me onto my knees, forcing me down. My knees banged against the marble floor, a wince falling from my lips.

Alek snickered, getting low and near my ear. "Right where all human women belong."

Alek suddenly began to choke, his hold and Theo's letting me go. I picked my head up to see Colby choking him, his hand tightening to an almost death grip around Alek's throat. He looked bored, glancing around the room unamused. "I am exhausted by the two of you and your crude comments. Not only did you hunt this poor girl for sport, but now you have left me with no other choice but to use my powers on her or take her life. Cleaning up your fuck ups is the last thing I want to be doing."

"But sir, she just-!" Alek gurgled out.

"Speak another word and I will snap your neck like a toothpick, so help me God. Do you understand me?" Colby's cold voice made the hairs on my body stand on end.

"Yes, Prince Cole." Both Alek and Theo nodded.

Colby released Alek, his attention turning back to me as if he hadn't just choked out a man. "Now.... let me get a good look at you."

He bent down, his hand cupping my face gently. His gentle touch surprised me, my eyes fluttering. He studied me, his striking blue eyes taking me in.

"How come your eyes are blue?" I inquired lowly.

I heard Sam let out a soft laugh, Theo and Alek remaining silent.

An almost smile came to his lips. "My eyes are only red when I'm hungry. But I also have a lot of strength so I'm able to hide when I am hungry."

"Are you... hungry?" I gulped.

"I knew the moment you stepped into my castle because of the cuts on your feet. So yes, I am very hungry, darling." He gazed directly into my eyes, a sort of playful tone I was used to coming through. "Why, are you offering?"

My cheeks heated up from his intense stare. Dear heaven above, this was not the time to be blushing!

"You always knew how to make the ladies swoon, Prince Cole," Sam teased jokingly. "Maybe you can get her to say her name."

He turned his gaze back to me. "You haven't said your name yet? Why is that?"

"Is it really all that important if you plan to kill me?" I remarked rudely.

"I don't have to kill you. That's a last resort option," he replied sincerely. "So, why don't you tell me your name?"

"After everything I just went through, I'd rather not." I deadpanned.

Colby's gaze caught mine, his eyes flashing red. "Tell me your name, now."

I felt an electric surge course through my body when our eyes met, something deeper than just surface level. I could almost feel him in my body, in my soul, for a moment. But once the current dissipated, I was left still not wanting to say my name.

"No." I dissented.

All the men around me stepped back, mumbling incoherently. For the first time since he came into the room, Colby looked startled. Almost scared.

"How is that possible?" Sam questioned, amazed.

Theo whispered. "Witchcraft."

"There's no way your powers didn't affect her!" Alek exclaimed.

"Quiet," Colby hushed everyone, scooping me up firmly. He pushed me onto his throne, barricading me in with his arms. His eyes narrowed as he glared down at me. "How were you able to do that?"

"Do what?" I gasped.

"Block my powers. I come from the longest living vampire lineage in history, spanning thousands of years, and somehow.... my powers have no effect on you." He scanned me once again, his eyes lingering longer on my exposed skin. "You are nothing more than a human."        

"Lucky break, I guess." I sneered.

Colby scowled; his voice low. "Don't play cute with me, darling. You will not survive if anymore quips fall from your mouth. I am a patient man, but an indignant ruler."

"I don't know! I don't even know how the fuck I got here! I woke up in the forest and ran from those two lunatics and now I'm here getting berated by a bunch of vampires! You tell me how this make sense." I ranted, getting close to his face.

Sam chimed in. "Cole, she might be telling the truth."

"There's no way. Clearly she is a witch of some type. Or has her own abilities that are somehow stronger than mine. She might be a spy from our opposition." Colby argued, gesturing towards me.

"So, our only option... is the last resort." Sam breathed, glancing at me hesitantly.

I was going to die. There was no way around it.

Theo whined, "If you're going to kill her, can we please have a bite of her, sir? We are the ones that caught this intruder and-"

"You were the ones that let her in!" Colby thundered, his eyes red.

I jumped out of the throne, running towards the open doors behind me. I barely got close, being taken suddenly into Colby's strong arms.

I screamed, pleading with him. "No! Please let me go! I'm not a spy! I- Please!"

"There's no use fighting me, sweetheart. This is the only option left." He spoke calmly.

I shook in his arms, doing my best to fight against his hold. "Please don't do this to me! No, Col-"

"I will make it painless and quick if you want." He assured.

I raged, thrashing back and forth in his arms. "Fuck you! Let me go!"

He pulled my hair so my neck was on full display for him to bite into. "What a pity. I'm sorry, sweet girl. There is no other way."

Colby's teeth sunk deeply into my neck, my body freezing against his. The shock of the bite sent my body into overdrive, tears flowing down my cheeks as I begged for my life.

Sam, Theo, and Alek watched as Colby drank from me slowly. Theo and Alek glared but gazed at my neck hungrily. Sam observed, a sad expression coming across his red eyes.

Colby pulled away from my neck with a sharp inhale, an almost moan. "Oh Lord, her blood is divine. Unlike anything I've had before."

He plunged his teeth back into my neck, my eyes drooping from the blood loss. He sped up his motions, draining me faster. I kept trying to fight, but my limbs grew stiff and tired. My tears had slowed down and my voice wasn't as loud as it once was. I was inching closer to death. Black dots filled my vision.

"Please, Colby. Stop." I whispered, my breaths extremely shallow and labored.

He froze at the sound of his name. He removed his mouth from my neck, spinning me around in his arms. The world doubled, tripled, in my vision. My head whirled as I felt like I was falling.

He brought me down to the floor softly, cupping my face just like he had before. "What did you call me? Say it again, darling. Say it!"

"C-Colby. Pleaseeee." I slurred, my eyes unable to stay open.

The last thing I saw were his blue eyes, deeply worried about me.

~~~

"Take her to my bedroom, call Magnus. Tell him to heal her, quickly. Now! And if you harm a hair on her head, I'll stake you where you stand." Cole ordered, glaring daggers into Theo's eyes.

Theo took Y/N into his arms, running her up to Prince Cole's room hastily. Alek followed suit, disappearing with him.

Samuel grabbed onto Cole's shoulder, pulling him out of his thoughts. "She called you... Colby. But the only person that ever called you that was-"

"My mother. And she passed when I was a child. There's no way anyone knew of that name, but her." Cole's breathing picked up, his mind racing a million miles a second.

"Do you think this is the sign she meant to send you? She told you all those years ago she would send someone just for you." Samuel responded, looking into Cole's eyes.

For the first time in hundreds of years, Cole was unsure. And he would never admit it to anyone, but he was petrified too. "I-I don't know. But I have to find out."

[dotster001]

The collapse one was really good! Can I get riddle, Cater, Azul, malleus, and Kalim too?

CW: burnout (obviously), passing out from burnout, References to drinking/overdrinking in Kalim's part

Part One Part Two-Malleus is in here

Riddle's overblot is a textbook case of gifted child burnout I'm not projecting. How! Dare! You! However, you don't learn anything until the third or fourth breakdown. Not projecting. So while he's better, he's not super aware of your feelings and mental state. He tries! He's just not good at it yet. 

So when you're homework load gets exponentially higher after you hit a wall in your studies (due to not knowing anything about this fucking planet) he thinks you've got this under control. Plus he's got his own homework, and his job as housewarden, so he's kind of just hoping if you need help, you'll just outright come to him.

Then he finds you passed out on his bed, face pressed painfully into your books. He panics. Probably runs to get Trey, because he has no idea what to do.

Trey checks you out, then says you'll wake up on your own time, he should just let you rest for now. Riddle tucks you in, then kisses your forehead, and spends the night sitting on the floor, leaning against the side of his bed, hoping you'll wake him when you're up.

You wake up to see your sleeping queen, his  neck in a position that will definitely be sore when he wakes up. You coax sleepy Riddle into the bed with you, and you snuggle the rest of the night away. 

He's pretty smart, so he's been trying to distract you from your stress for a while. If he thinks you're getting too tense, in comes Cay Cay to save the day! But he's about to learn that "distraction" only works for so long.

You're doing homework, while sitting in his room. He's been editing a photo of the two of you, as study buddies, for the past hour, and telling you he'd be right with you every time you asked for him. It's not that you need the editing, but the lighting on him is just off enough…

Once he finishes, he turns to you triumphantly, only to see you snoozing away on your textbook. It's so cute that he has to take another picture! He's so lucky to have you and get to experience moments like these!

It's after the picture, when he tries to gently wake you enough so you can at least get to his bed for the evening, that he realizes you're non responsive.

He panics and does the first thing that comes to mind. Call Trey. Trey calms him down over the phone, then tells him to stay in place until he gets there. He arrives and helps Cater carry you to the hospital wing, where the nurse says that you over extended yourself, and that your body took matters into it's own hands. He sends Cater to get a snack and drink so that he can feed it to you when you wake up, and tells him it'll be best if you stay here for a while so he can ensure your body recoops.

Cater sits on the edge of his chair for hours, his phone scarily unused as he just stares at you. Once you wake up, he wraps you in a hug, explains what happened, and then waits on you hand and foot. He's much more of a nervous mother hen about you from now on. But you know he means we'll.

He's one who it would take a lot for him not to notice. He has had his own collapses, in the time he's spent making himself into his ideal person, many of his tactics not entirely healthy. And he works very hard to make sure you never go through that yourself.

But let's say he's been busy with the opening week of the second lounge location. And he'd normally have the twins…um…observe you from afar, but they are also busy with opening week buzz. So the most he sees of you is a kiss on the cheek in the morning, before he runs off.

Enter a certain crow. To Azul, it doesn't matter what the task was, or how important it was. What matters is that he got a call in the middle of the day that you had passed out in alchemy, and he happens to have lots of dirt on the bird he can give to the school board. When he sees you laying on a medical bed, non responsive, and a sickly color, all he sees is red.

He trusts the nurse to take care of you while he handles some…business…and he and the twins take a trip. Based on what he was told, he has plenty of time before you'll wake up.

When you wake up, Azul is sitting attentively by your side, stroking your hand, the twins standing by the doors. He sends them to get you food and water, and stands patiently as the nurse checks you over. The next several weeks, he keeps you in his room, and treats you to anything you could possibly want, freaking out a little every time you get up. He's just so benevolent, but if you truly want to pay him back, he'll offer a great deal. All he wants is to hold you and remind you of your worth.

O sweet oblivious baby. He has no idea the workload you are dealing with. Partially because when he invites you to a party, you always come with a smile on your face. So the thought that everything you're dealing with is too much…it just never occurs to him.

And he still doesn't really get it. You're asleep at the party, and he's pretty sure you're either worn out, or drank just a little too much. So he sits next to you to stand guard, and potentially snuggle if you wake up and sleepily ask for him.

It's not until Jamil, who is carrying a trash bag full of empty cups and wearing a scowl on his face, points out that you look off, does he start to even question anything. He asks Kalim a lot of questions, and it's through answering that he starts to come to the conclusion that maybe you're not too tired/drank too much. He kind of just stares at Jamil with wide eyes. He has no idea what to do.

Jamil sighs heavily, and scoops you up, carrying you to Kalim's room. He tells Kalim he'll make you some tea, and gives him a cold cloth, telling him to place it on your forehead, and the back of your neck if you start to get hot. He comes back with the tea, assuring Kalim it has healing properties, and then leaves the rest to him.

Kalim watches you for hours, but eventually he falls asleep, his head resting on your stomach. You wake up to him there, drink the tea you assume is yours, and then feel immediately better. You run your fingers through his hair, and he smiles and mutters something happily in his sleep. You smile at him, and drift off into real sleep.

The Asim family donates enough money, the next week, to allow Crowley to hire an assistant.

[arkieve]

Constellation | @jegulus-microfic | word count: 439

Regulus wakes up to James’ watchful gaze. Slow and bleary-eyed, he moves to face him. James is looking down at him, arm propped up, and cheek pressed against the palm of his hand.

There’s something about that look. Regulus is slow to realize the weight of it, but once it settles, he goes still. 

“What is it?” He almost wants to cover James’ eyes and tell him to stop looking at him like that.

“Nothing,” comes James’ response and his voice is infinitely clearer than Regulus’, bearing no trace of sleep. Exposing him.

James has been up for a while, watching Regulus sleep.

It’s early morning. The birds are chirping their song and the sun is slanting through the blinds, painting the walls of their bedroom and bringing its warmth into their bed.

James runs a hand through Regulus’ locks, softly, reverently, moving an errant lock from his face and behind his ear. It’s futile work, as it falls right back where it was. Regulus blows air at it in response, and James smiles.

He moves, running his hands through Regulus’ hair, past the nape of his neck and settles on the vast expanse of his exposed back.

James traces the spots and freckles scattered across Regulus’ back with a careful finger, barely touching as he moves it along. 

“Even here,” he breathes, “there are constellations.” It’s barely a whisper, entirely to himself, as he continues to thread the marks together along his path.

Regulus leaves him to it, suppresses the where else in me do you see stars? that burst through the tingling in his stomach at James’ ministrations.

After a while, James starts tracing a familiar pattern, less soft now, covetous rather than reverent.

J F P

“Stop that,” Regulus says, failing to keep a reprimanding tone.

“Stop what?”

“Marking me.”

“I’m not marking you. I’m connecting the stars.”

J…F…P

“How awfully convenient that the freckles on my back spell out your initials.”

“It’s not all freckles; there are a few pimples here.”

Aaaand the show is over. Regulus rolls onto his back and pushes James down onto his pillow. He goes without a fight, a stupid grin on his face.

“Good morning to you, too.” 

“I hate you.”

“You should tone down the sappiness, it’s getting to be too much even for me.” And before Regulus decides to chuck his pillow at him: “Breakfast?”

“Pancakes.”

James snorts. “Not if you’re making them.”

Regulus helps him off the bed with a push of his foot on James’ ass, and cocoons himself.

“You burn them one time,” he grumbles to himself, burrowing into the pillow that smells like James.