#a horrible thought is conjuring in my head...

[smile-files]

okay but we can all agree: if henry saw proof of randall's death that even he couldn't dispute he would definitely just kill himself right?

[teethbomb]

gravity falls “the jaunt” by Stephen King AU

[odoraful]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 (𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭���𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬)

it's date night and the boys react to you wearing a new dress

⟡ content: zayne/sylus/xavier/rafayel/caleb x gn!reader; established relationship; complete & utter fluff; compliments & showers of affection; dresses are described (i had dress references that i thought would suit the boys' vibes hehe, but feel free to picture whatever dress you want!); ~0.5k words per scene

⟡ a/n: my first time writing for caleb GASP! it was very fun to write him but, admittedly, i don't own all of his cards (the struggles of f2p 😞), nor have i done all of his memoria/other content, so i hope i was still able to do him justice! 🥺

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𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 ⟡

Subconsciously, Zayne rose from his seat as soon as he saw you. His body somehow told him that appreciating you whilst sitting down was a horrible injustice. It was true, though. Standing gave him the proper vantage point to admire your outfit. The way the smooth white material draped around your curves and flowed down to your ankles, the fabric turning sheer near the hem. Blue watercolor-like flowers were scattered across the dress—the softness of it all made it seem like you were a walking dream. A silvery necklace rested against your collarbones, matching the teardrop gemstones that dangled from your ears.

You were still in the middle of adjusting your earrings when you walked out, not paying any mind to the effects your entrance had on your enamored partner.

Zayne’s lips parted, the air seemingly sucked from him. He blinked multiple times as if he were trying to see whether you were an illusion.

It was no trick conjured by his mind. You were real, you were his, and you were stunning.

Finished with your earrings, you looked up at him with a smile. It took every ounce of will for Zayne’s knees not to buckle and fall back onto the chair.

“I’m ready to go now,” you said, walking over to him, your heels giving a dull click against the hard floors.

“It’ll be a bit colder tonight,” was all Zayne could muster saying with most of his thoughts entangled by your appearance.

Your face immediately fell into a pout. With a disappointed sigh, you hung your head.

“Alright, I’ll go get something to cover up…”

Before your feet could even move to walk away, Zayne’s hands snaked around your waist. A short gasp fell out of you.

Beneath the thin fabric of your dress, you could feel the press of his cool fingertips. He held you in place with a firm grip, his body flush with yours. His lips brushed against the shell of your ear.

“Where are you going?” he asked, his closeness leaving shivers up your spine.

“T-to bring something to wear on top of my dress? You just said that it would be cold.”

His brows lifted, realizing the misunderstanding he caused. “I apologize. What I meant was I’ll bring my jacket for you to wear if it gets too chilly.”

Your stomach fluttered, though you didn’t know if it was due to the proximity of his body, his low voice, or his offer to keep you warm during the night out. You turned around in his grasp, meeting his gaze.

“There is no need for you to hide it beneath extra clothing if you want to show it off. You look beautiful in that new dress, my love.”

Now you knew exactly what caused those tingles in your stomach.

The direct compliments Zayne tended to give always affected you deeply. Combined with the nickname that rolled so effortlessly off his tongue, you were the one left entangled now. And he would admire you a thousand times more just to see that expression on your face.

”Perhaps I should change the color of my tie to match.”

“Dr Zayne wanting to do couple matching?” You feigned a gasp of shock, bracing a hand against his chest. “How unheard of!”

Zayne breathed a fond and quiet laugh. “Yes, I’ve been learning a lot of new things when I’m with you.”

𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐔𝐒 ⟡

“My, my, my,” Sylus sounded out as you walked into the kitchen. He chuckled in astonishment, the resonant sound warming your senses. “Don’t you look absolutely divine this evening?”

Sylus washed his hands at the sink and dried them off with a towel. He was in the middle of preparing dinner for the two of you when you made your grand reveal. Naturally, he had to stop everything to give you the attention you deserved.

“Do you notice anything different?” you asked innocently, hands tucked behind your back.

Sylus smirked. He rested his chin on his hand, indulging your theatrics.

“Hmm, let me guess… is it your hair?” he began, reaching out to tuck a strand behind your ear.

You tempered your expression, trying to remain neutral despite the corners of your lips curving upwards.

“Or… maybe your makeup?” he trailed his hand down to your cheek, lightly brushing against your skin with his thumb.

Sylus’ hand moved to rest at your back, guiding you closer to him. His gaze travelled from your head to your toes. 

“Ah, I know what it is.”

You were wearing an elegant black dress that reached your ankles—certainly fit to be in attendance at a high class function. The bodice resembled a corset, with faux boning running from the square neckline down towards the waist before disappearing before the skirt. Thin black straps tied off in ribbons at your shoulders. A necklace of silver and ruby dazzled under the warm lights of the kitchen. Contrasting with the rest of your outfit, rather than wear a matching pair of shoes, on your feet were your prized fuzzy slippers that you wore around the Onichynus base. Sylus could help but break into a smile.

Tonight’s date was a night-in after all, so comfort would be given number one priority.

“It’s this lovely new dress.” 

His compliment seemed to be amplified by the husk in his voice. You clasped your hands around his neck, pulling him nearer. 

“Correct!” you grinned. “It’s the one you helped me pick out, remember?”

He nodded. Two weeks ago you had gone clothes shopping together and stumbled upon this simple black dress. Sylus saw the way your eyes lingered on it, even after being alarmed by the price tag. You were prepared to say goodbye to it on the clothing rack. Little did you know, Sylus had already signalled to the shop assistant to have it wrapped up and sent to his home. 

“I do,” he answered, drawing small circles at the small of your back with his finger. “It seems we both have good taste.”

Your eyes darted away from his gaze. “I know you’re just making dinner for us, but I wanted to dress up a little.”

There was very little that could make the leader of Onichynus lose his composure, but the shyness on your face was enough to make him weak.

Sylus kissed your forehead. “Trust me when I say this, my dear, the gesture is greatly appreciated.”

He tilted your face upwards. Sincerity brimmed in his crimson gaze as he spoke, 

“You know you can wear whatever you want around me. Whether you dress up or dress down, you always look stunning.”

𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑 ⟡

Eyes growing wide as porcelain plates, Xavier watched with awe when you exited the bedroom. He’d never seen you wear this dress. He didn’t even know where to look first.

The white fabric ruffled in two tiers around your thighs, with loose frills lining the neckline, accentuating your decolletage. It was shoulderless, with long sheer white sleeves that extended from the dress. To complement its shorter length, you wore white lace socks that ended below your knees.

It was the embodiment of flirty and sweet, only made more so by the twirl you gave him.

“You got a new dress,” Xavier observed.

He walked over to meet you, a smile blooming across his face as you toyed with the ruffles at your neckline.

“Mhm, I did! How do I look?”

Xavier ran his fingers down the sleeve, feeling the material. He trailed the length of your arm, the light touch leaving goosebumps in its wake, until he reached your hand.

“The color is just like starlight.”

Lifting your hand up to his lips, he gave your knuckles a tender kiss. It was almost a scene from a storybook—a prince boldly showcasing his affection for his lover. Though, rather than a castle, you were standing in his apartment on his blue striped rug. It didn’t matter. For you, it was a fairytale nonetheless.

“You look radiant,” he said, looking up at you with admiration and… something else.

Xavier straightened himself and inhaled. Unexpectedly, he leaned over and began unlacing his shoes, taking them off his feet. Your face contorted with confusion. Whatever he was doing now was a stark difference in tone from the previous moment you just shared.

“Xavier… what are you doing?”

He neatly lined his shoes up on the edge of the rug on the wooden floorboards.

“Can we change the date to just staying in?” he asked.

“Huh? Why?”

His answer came in the form of pulling you into a hug and collapsing on the sofa with you. You gasped in surprise. Cupping your face in both his hands, Xavier began to kiss you. Starting from your forehead down to your cheeks. In that fraction of a second each time he pulled away, he eyed you—your expression a mixture of surprise and delight, the way your chest rose and fell in that ruffled dress. He continued his affectionate ambush, his gentle lips leaving your skin warm and rose-colored.

“Xavier!” you cried out, bursting into giggles.

Though you had your hands on his shoulders, you didn’t give much resistance, letting your partner shower you with kisses.

“We’re going to be late for our reservation—mmph!”

He finally reached your lips, slowing his movements, letting himself savor the faint sweetness from the gloss you applied. You too almost got lost, brain clouded by the familiar and tempting sensation. Xavier felt your hands tap his shoulders and he pulled back to find your lips in a pout.

“You know we’re never going to leave if we stay like this.”

Xavier sighed resignedly. “Okay, okay, we’ll go.”

Nodding his head he rested his forehead on your shoulder, as if it took all his strength to move away. “I just couldn’t help it. It’s hard to resist kissing you when you look like that.”

𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋 ⟡

Being a denizen of an underwater kingdom meant Rafayel had seen many pretty sights in his life. But, none would compare to when he was looking at you. Especially now when you walked into his studio wearing a new dress. His lips curved into a smile, unable to contain the wonder on his face.

The dress was made of a taupe-coloured chiffon with red flowers and olive leaves patterning the fabric. From the open window of his studio, the light breeze made the flowy material flutter around your legs. The waistline ended just below the bust, with a heart-shaped neckline that gave the perfect space for your shell necklace (given as a present from Rafayel himself). Your white sandals tapped against the floorboards, ready for your evening by the beach. 

“Is there a special anniversary I’m forgetting?” Rafayel asked, placing his hands on his hips. “Why am I receiving such a lovely gift?” 

You chuckled, speaking with a playful lilt, “Sometimes there’s no reason for nice things to happen. I just thought I’d try on something new.”

He approached, holding your hands in his. The swirl of violet and pink in his eyes gleamed with splendour. “You look beautiful, like you just stepped out of a painting.”

“You can thank Aunt Talia,” you said. “She helped choose it for me when she visited Linkon.”

Rafayel shrugged, though, there was pride in his voice as he spoke. “It’s easy to pick when you have a perfect muse like yourself.” 

With his hand still in yours, Rafayel stretched his arm outward, creating distance between you two before leading you towards his chest. You twirled into his arms like a ballroom dancer, the skirt of your dress dancing along with you.

He wished he had something to record your laugh in that moment—the pure delight in your voice. Perhaps he could keep it in a seashell for him to hold to his ear whenever he missed you. More of your giggles erupted when he swung you out from him once again. This time, when he pulled you in, he braced an arm around your back, dipping you. 

His face was inches away from yours. He looked at the pink dusting your cheeks, the sparkle on your eyelids, and the giddiness in your smile. The statement remained true. No other sight could compare to you.

Lifting you back to standing position, he kept his arms encircled at your waist.

“The fabric of the dress flows just like water,” he commented. “And the colour compliments you so nicely.”

Rafayel appeared entranced, as if he was staring at a rare artwork sitting in an illustrious gallery. Studying your features with that same painter’s eye. 

“You’re giving me that look again.” You lightly poked the tip of his nose with your index finger. “Am I to be the inspiration for your next piece now?”

He shook his head in amusement. “Cutie, you should see the margins of all my sketchbooks.”

“You’re always an inspiration to me, every second of every day.��

𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐁 ⟡

Waiting for you to come out of your room made Caleb’s stomach flutter in anticipation. It wasn’t dissimilar to the very first time he tried flying. The sudden change in speed and altitude. That momentary weightlessness before everything dropped. He didn’t realise being at your apartment in Linkon City, waiting to see what you were going to wear for the night, would provoke the same feelings as being in a fighter jet. He covered his face with his hand in an act of controlling himself–conscious of the effect you had on him. 

The moment ended when he heard your door click shut. Caleb turned around from staring at the photographs on the wall to finally see you.

At a first glance, the dress was simple–made of a silky material with no embellishments, and two thin straps at the shoulders. However, in the light, your green dress shimmered with iridescence. The gold that shone through the fabric shifted with every step you took towards him, ever changing depending on where the light was hitting you. 

Caleb folded his arms, his eyes shamelessly wandering up and down. A slow and intentional gaze that ensured he could memorize the image he saw before him.

You were practically beaming at him, and his own heart leapt from his chest.

“I don’t recognize this from your wardrobe. Is it new?” His question came out almost breathless. 

“It is, how observant of you,” you chirped. “What do you think?” 

You took one more step closer until he could reach out and feel the material for himself. It was smooth and delicate under his touch. He let it slip off his fingers before looking back at you, completely transfixed. 

“You look gorgeous,” he breathed. The earnesty in his voice made your pulse skip. 

“You know,” Caleb circled around you, hands at his back. It seemed as though he wanted to admire the dress from every angle, “any person in their right mind would want to get close after seeing someone as cute as you.”

Without you realising, he had actually cornered you against your wall of photographs.

He placed his left hand against the wall beside your head, satisfaction plain on his face. You puffed out your cheeks in mock annoyance at Caleb’s sneaky position switching. Only you got to witness this mischievous, boyish side to him. 

“I guess I’ll have to keep a lookout tonight,” he whispered in your ear before kissing you on the cheek.  

“Don’t worry, I’ll stay right by your side,” you reassured, patting his head. 

“Mmm, that’s good to hear.” He leaned into your touch, lips curved into a soft, nostalgic smile.

“I remember you weren’t too fond of wearing dresses when you were younger.”

“That was a long time ago,” you commented, brushing your fingers through his dark hair to tidy it up. “Things can change.”

He caught your hand in his, interlocking his fingers with yours. Warmth radiated through your palms. 

“Then, I want to see you in more pretty clothes like this,” he said. “Let’s go shopping tomorrow, I’ll get you anything you want.”

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[beloveds-embrace]

(p2 of john price x reader who basically manifests him into her life)

It turns out that Captain John Price is, unfortunately, not a fever dream conjured by stress and blackberry pie. He is very real, very present, and very much making himself at home in your cottage.

The next morning, you wake to the unmistakable sound of your mother cooing like a particularly smitten dove. Your heart sinks as you stumble out of your room, still trying to rub sleep from your eyes.

There, at your kitchen table, sits John- completely at ease, like he’s been your husband for years. He’s drinking your favorite tea blend, bulky frame almost dwarfing the chair, and he’s listening attentively as your mother babbles on about your so-called “devotion.”

“Oh, she was absolutely heartbroken when she thought you wouldn’t come back,” your mother gushes, practically swooning, and your father nods his sagely alongside her tale. “You should have seen her, sitting by the window with her knitting, sighing over those letters. I’ve never seen a girl more in love. My poor daughter!”

John hums appreciatively, lips twitching into that insufferably smug smirk as he glances over at you beneath his equally insufferable beard and mutton chops. “Could tell from the letters,” he says, eyes practically sparkling. “All those sweet words. Such a lucky man I am.”

You grit your teeth, feeling the vein in your temple throb. “I was trying to avoid Thomas.” You mutter, but your mother (thankfully) doesn’t hear you over the sound of her own gleeful rambling.

“Oh, and when she baked those little honey cakes just because you said you liked them! I told her it was too much, but she wouldn’t hear of it.”

You freeze. You most definitely did not bake any little honey cakes. Your mother, bless her meddling heart, is getting so caught up in the fantasy she’s started making things up. You shoot her a glare, but John is already giving you that half-lidded, knowing look.

“Honey cakes, eh?” he rumbles, sounding far too interested. “Didn’t know you were so sweet on me, lovey.”

You snatch the teapot from his hands and pour yourself a cup, resisting the urge to pour it over his head instead. “Don’t get used to it.”

Your mother beams, entirely oblivious to your silent war. “Well, I’ll leave you two to catch up. So happy to see you’re finally together!” She bustles out the door, humming cheerfully, and drags your sagely smiling father along with her.

The moment she’s gone, you whirl on John, a fierce glare on your face. “What are you doing?”

He leans back, stretching leisurely, his grin nothing short of wicked. “Having breakfast with my wife. Not how I pictured it, but it’ll do.”

You scoff. “I’m not your wife.”

Price shrugs. “Your letters say otherwise. And your mum’s convinced enough. Can’t exactly leave you now, can I? Wouldn’t be right.”

Your mouth opens, then snaps shut. It’s as if your own trap has snapped back at you, jaws clamped tight around your life. You cross your arms, glowering, and think of something else to say. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, barging in here like you own the place- drinking my favorite tea blend, too!”

He just looks at you, eyes twinkling. “Funny. That’s not what you wrote. Said you missed me. Said you’d make me the sweetest of teas. Said you just couldn’t wait for me to come home.”

“That was fiction, you horrible man!” You hiss, but he just chuckles, entirely unbothered.

Otjer than John, though, you also had another problem that was also caused by him; wedding preparations, the bane of your existence as you’ve come to realize.

Some people look forward to their wedding day- the flowers, the vows, the promise of a life shared. You, however, never pictured it like this, and never expected your “fiancé” to be a man who waltzed into your cottage like he owned it, dropped a stack of letters on the table, and declared himself your soon-to-be-husband. You certainly never imagined he’d take to it so naturally, like he was born to sit at your breakfast table and make himself comfortable with your family.

Your mother, thrilled to bits and practically floating on a cloud of matrimonial bliss, has begun planning the “official” ceremony. Blissfully ignoring your protests (and your thinly veiled threat to elope with the next traveling bard) because she assumes her sweet, beloved daughter is just nervous, she’s already halfway through arranging the entire affair. John, meanwhile, seems to find the whole ordeal oh so terribly amusing.

You find him at the kitchen table one afternoon, carving a piece of wood into something vaguely useful. He’s taken over the end seat- like he’s the head of the household now, of all things, and your father merely laughs sagely- and seems perfectly content to whittle away while you stew in frustration. His coat hangs on the back of the chair, sleeves rolled up, revealing the strong forearms that seem permanently smudged with wood dust and effort.

The door bursts open, and your mother flutters in like an overly enthusiastic magpie, clutching swatches of lace and muttering about floral arrangements as if the fate of the world depends on which flower goes where.

You can practically feel your sanity slipping through your fingers like the flour dust you use in your baking.

“Oh, I’ve spoken to Mrs. Beech about the flowers- she says lilacs would be perfect for the bouquet. Don’t you think so, John?”

Fuck you, Mrs. Bitch-

John doesn’t even look up, his knife still scraping curls of wood from his project. “Lilacs. Sounds nice.” He says with that slow, sure nod of his, like he’s contemplating the tactical advantages of the flower choice even though you just know he has no fucking idea what flowers lilacs are and just knows them by name, not shape.

You glare at him as if sheer force of will could make him combust. “You’re not helping.”

He finally lifts his gaze, an eyebrow raised, amusement curling along his lips, while your mother now frets and flutters around your father. “Don’t think your mum would take ‘no’ from either of us, love.”

You slump back in your chair, arms crossed tight against your chest, trying to will away the traitorous warmth blooming in your stomach. Curse him and his voice. “… I was hoping to at least have a say in my fake wedding.” You mutter in the end.

“Now, now,” he drawls, leaning closer, his voice dropping to that familiar rumble that makes your stomach do a little somersault- so much worse (better) than his usual voice. “A proper husband lets his wife plan the details. I’ll just stand there lookin’ pretty for you.”

Your jaw clenches. You open your mouth to retort, but your mother interrupts with another idea- apparently, she’s already been thinking about colors for John’s suit. “John, you’re so thoughtful! And I’ve been looking at suits- do you prefer navy or charcoal? I do think charcoal brings out the blue in your eyes.”

John glances at you, his lips twitching in a barely suppressed grin. “Whichever makes her happy, ma’am.”

You’re torn between strangling him lightly and strangling him harshly. The worst part is that he doesn’t even sound insincere; he just leans back, all relaxed confidence, like he was born for this domestic chaos just as much as he was built for fighting in ward. You try to glare again, but your resolve falters when he shoots you a quick, soft wink.

Your mother, oblivious to your internal crisis, claps her hands together, now planning the guest list. You sink lower in your chair, wondering if you’d survive being exiled to the woods. John, ever the menace, just gives you a look that promises he’d happily follow you even there and maybe build you a cottage so he can show off those arms of his.

A few days later, you’re back in the kitchen, trying to reclaim some semblance of peace by kneading dough with a vengeance. You don’t even know what you’re baking anymore- scones, maybe? Bread? At this point, it’s less about the final product and more about taking out your frustrations on something pliable and innocent that won’t screech for its life.

John wanders in like he owns the place (again), smelling like the outdoors and freshly chopped wood. He leans against the doorframe, arms folded across his chest, and watches you with an amused glint in his eyes.

“Another batch of sweets?” he drawls, leaning against the doorframe. “Didn’t know you were so dedicated. Those famous honey cakes of yours?”

You shoot him a glare. “They’re not for you.”

He raises a brow. “Oh? Someone else in line to be sweet on you?”

You huff, too tired to argue. “They’re for your men.” You snap, your hands practically mauling the dough now. Almost strangling it, to be honest.

A little smile spreads across his face, almost fond. “Didn’t know you were so sweet on them too, love.”

You huff, flour smudging your cheek as you try to actually shape the dough. “They’ve had to put up with your grumpy ass, haven’t they? Thought they deserved a treat… and mum said to, anyways- so don’t get ahead of yourself.”

Before you can blink, his hands slip around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. His chin settles on your shoulder, scruffy beard tickling your skin. “You keep spoilin’ them like that, they’ll think you fancy ’em.”

You squirm, but his grip tightens, his breath warm against your neck. “Can’t have that, can we?” His voice is a growl, low and deep. “Better make sure they know who you belong to.”

Forget somersaults, your stomach actually flips. “They know,” You mutter. “Doubt they’d go against their own Captain.”

He hums, nuzzling your temple. “Good. Only one man gets to come home to your bakin’.”

You manage an eyeroll despite your heart pounding like a trapped bird. “You’re ridiculous.”

His lips brush the shell of your ear. “You like me that way.”

When he finally releases you, it’s only to snatch a fresh scone off the tray, biting into it with that satisfied grin of his. “Perfect,” he murmurs around the mouthful, nodding his approval. “But I’ll make sure to tell the lads you made ’em for me.”

You narrow your eyes, unimpressed. “What are you, five?”

“Nah. Just a man who likes showin’ off what’s his.”

When he reaches to take another scone, you smack his hand away and he just laughs, the sound rumbling low and warm. He stays with you after that, bothering and pestering you like a stubborn pustule, until all of the scones have been baked and cooled.

And when he kisses your cheek before heading out the door, tipping his boonie hat with a teasing, “Be good, love.” You realize that maybe- just maybe- you should have strangled him when you had the chance.

As revenge for upsetting your stomach, of course.

[ducksido]

Hellooo this is my first time requesting, I rewrote this like 20 times. Could you do Overbolt boys x horribly dressed or just lazily dress reader? Like the reader will just pull up to a function looking like Adam Sandler or everyone will be formally dressed and reader is just there in their pajamas. Please do not feel pressured to do this it’s just a silly idea I had and I am sorry for my horrible grammar

Riddle The moment you stroll into the grand hall—where everyone is in their tuxedos and gowns—wearing ratty pajamas with cartoon prints and slippers, Riddle nearly chokes on his tea. His eyes widen in disbelief. “S/O, did you forget there’s a formal event?” he whispers, cheeks flushing scarlet, half embarrassed, half amused. But then, his ever-stoic expression softens. He quietly reaches over and squeezes your hand. “Well, if you’re comfortable, I’ll be by your side no matter what you wear.”

Leona Leona’s usual intense glare shifts into something oddly proud when he spots your mismatched socks and a hoodie two sizes too big. “Finally, someone who doesn’t take this fancy nonsense seriously,” he mutters, a small smirk tugging his lips. Without a second thought, he slips off his own dress shoes and switches to his boots, pulling you toward the edge of the crowd. “Come on, let’s find a spot where you can chill without worrying about all these posers.”

Azul Azul’s eyes instantly narrow at your appearance—socks with sandals? Seriously? His mouth twitches, struggling between horror and disbelief, but he quickly regains composure. “You do realize this is a high-profile event, right? People will talk.” He clears his throat and offers a rehearsed, but genuine smile. “Allow me to escort you—and maybe shield you from any rumors.” He stays close, adjusting his own cufflinks with a flourish while trying not to trip over your pajama pants.

Jamil Jamil arches a brow as you stroll past the elegantly dressed crowd in your oversized graphic tee and ratty joggers. He crosses his arms and sighs, “You always have to be different, don’t you?” But then, a teasing grin spreads on his face. “Well, I guess that’s what I like about you.” Without hesitation, he slips his blazer off and drapes it over your shoulders, making you look just a bit less like you rolled out of bed. “There, that should do.”

Vil Vil almost gasps, clutching his chest dramatically when he sees you in your fuzzy slippers and worn-out hoodie, surrounded by the perfect, stylish crowd. “Oh no! How could you betray fashion like this?!” he exclaims, his voice a mix of horror and disbelief. But then he laughs, genuine and warm. “You’re my adorable little disaster. Come here.” He swoops you up for a quick hug, smushing your messy look with his perfect glam. “You’ll always be the star of my heart, no matter what.”

Idia Idia watches from the sidelines, intrigued rather than horrified, as you show up in an old band tee and sweatpants. “Honestly, you’re lucky this isn’t a cosplay event or I’d be more impressed.” He adjusts his glasses and smirks. “Comfort over style, huh? I get it.” He shuffles over and offers you one of his oversized hoodies, which you accept gratefully. “Now we match. Looks like you just leveled up in style points, in my book.”

Malleus Malleus’s usually cold, regal demeanor flickers with confusion as he notices your disheveled appearance — pajamas with a blanket scarf wrapped around your neck. His crimson eyes blink once, twice, then soften. “Why would you come to an event like this dressed so... casually?” he asks quietly. You shrug with a sheepish smile, and unexpectedly, Malleus lowers his head and gently nuzzles you. “Your presence alone outshines any outfit.” Then, almost imperceptibly, he conjures a shimmering cloak around you to blend elegance with your comfort.

[jaegerbby]

➳ triggered

--͙[ken ryuguji x female! reader]-͙-

╰┈➤ word count; 12,944

╰┈➤ rundown; in all the years you've known draken, he has only loved one girl but that doesn't mean he'll let you be with someone else.

╰┈➤ caution; TOXIC DYNAMIC. possessive! toxic! draken, dubcon/coercion, fwb to something more?, parental character death, tw/emma (lol), manhandling, emotional manipulation, abusive undertones, threats with a gun, mentions of suicide, slight mitsuya x reader, alcohol mentioned, face fucking, oral sex (m&f), unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, cervix fucking, belly bulge mentioned, baby trapping, impregnation, use of the word slut. draken is a literal head case in this. he gets mad when you call him draken (as he should?)

not proof read !

you almost drop your phone when the nurse tells you about your mother's condition. "ma'am, are you there?" your lips tremble, a hum leaving you because you do not trust yourself enough to speak.

"she's in room 34, level 12. you'll be further informed when you arrive." you swallow hard, feeling your chest tighten. "thank you." it is all you can manage to say before you end the call.

your relationship with your mother is strained to say the least but the thought of her bleeding out all alone makes you sick. the last memory she has of you is bitter words.

you hurriedly pull on jeans and a shirt draken left. his scent is enough to comfort you. you dial his number while running down the stairs of your apartment complex.

the cold air meets your skin and it seems all your impulsive actions are foolish.

"ken!" you are too emotional and you need him here. you can hardly keep yourself sane, every thought in your head is blaming you. you are not the best person, you know that but did you deserve something so cruel?

"what's wrong?" the sound of his deep voice alone, makes you relax. you grip the fabric of your his shirt. "my mom is in the hospital." your words come out in a flurry, jumbled and confusing.

you cannot quell the panic that fills you.

"hey, calm down." it is soothing, draken always knows what you need.

"breathe." you take deep breaths as he guides you, clutching your chest and nodding though he is not here to see. "now, tell me what happened. i'll come."

somehow, you feel lighter, "my mom's in the hospital... can you take me?"

"give me five. don't worry, okay?" you hum shakily as you slump on a bench and bury your face in your hands.

you sit there, cold and tired. you wish you could let yourself be consumed by sleep and this would be a bad dream.

that in the morning you would not have this guilt weighing on your shoulders.

the words 'five minutes' spiral in your thoughts because it certainly felt like hours. you fidget before messaging him. one after the next, asking where he is, if he is coming, why he lied.

though, it is left unanswered. he does not reply much less open it. your lips tremble, squeezing your fists so tightly you almost break skin.

you do not want to cry but it is all getting to you. as much as you fight it, you break.

loudly sobbing, roughly drying your face but it is coated with fresh tears a second after.

you keep telling yourself that he will come. you conjure up some stupid excuse for him because he never does it himself. it is times like this where you wonder if anything he said was genuine.

you need him here and he let you down. you should have expected it, he did it before. for someone who was more important that you, who would always be more important than you.

"yn?" you are sure you look horrible with blood shot eyes and messy hair. you are not able to move, simply staring as mitsuya parks his bike.

he is so kind, you do not deserve it. he hurriedly steps towards you, his eyes softening when a fresh stream of tears slip down your face.

"are you okay?" he tugs off his jacket, wrapping it around you before he kneels down and grips your hands. he immediately rubs them with his.

he tries to make you warm but all you feel is cold.

you should not ask, you are hurt enough but it is on the tip of your tongue.

it slips.

"where's ken?" you mumble when he guides you to stand. your eyes staring up at him, wide and tear filled.

"draken? he's with emma," it hits you like a freight train and it hurts more because you knew. you got the answer you were expecting but your chest still aches.

mitsuya's large palms cup your cheeks, swiping at the tears. his face coated in worry, "why are you crying?"

"my mom's in the hospital. can you take me? please." you are cut off when he tugs you against him. gentle as he strokes your hair and tries to ease your pain.

you sob into his chest, every part of you feels broken. your fists tangling in the fabric of his t-shirt and you press against him more. it should be draken.

you hate how desperately you wish he was holding you instead.

"i will, don't cry." he mutters into your hair, squeezing you before he lets you go. his fingers lace with yours as he guides you to his bike.

your head is filled with tumultuous excuses, anything to make you believe ken has a good reason.

he does not, he never did. not a word leaves you as mitsuya drives. even though your hands grip his clothes, desperately searching for something to keep yourself afloat.

when you are at the hospital, you feel like you are out of your body.

"i'll wait for you outside," mitsuya says, releasing your shoulders, having taken you to the room. the sight of your mother laying in bed unconscious, countless tubes and machines connected to her.

you fall to your knees, begging, pleading for her to get up. she is all you have left and you hardly see her.

you grasp her hand, you were seldom given that opportunity before. she is as cold as it is outside, maybe the weather was preparing you to feel her skin.

she is as cold as she acted to you your whole life and yet you cry for her to wake up. scream that she would at least open her eyes and tell you to stop your whining. she does not.

your heart breaks for the second time that night.

---

ken <3: come over

yn: not in the mood rn

ken <3: i just want you here

you thought he would at least apologise but when has draken ever?

he does not acknowledge it, he moves on like you mean nothing. like your feelings are none of his concern.

you were friends before this.

all this arrangement showed was how little he valued you. you know he loves emma and you know he is just fucking you. he would never feel more. not when it comes to you

you always see the hearts in his eyes whenever emma comes around, sometimes you wish he would look at you that way. others, you wish you never got involved with him in the first place.

it is so easy to be swayed when it comes to him. it is almost embarrassing how easily he can get you to give in.

you tell yourself you will leave the sorrow for the morning and you find yourself at his apartment.

you hate the way he smiles when he opens the door for you.

you hate how good he looks in that stupid tank top that is fitted to his body like a second skin.

you hate how he wraps you in his arms and presses a kiss to your cheek like he did not break your heart just last week.

you shrug him off, pulling the thin jacket from your shoulders and sitting on the couch.

"why'd you cook so much?" you mutter, watching him huff as he drops down next to you. you wish you could move away because he is too close.

he is in your space. his thigh is against yours. when it comes to draken, you are too weak and you have long known it would be your downfall.

"i know you haven't been eating." he scoops some of the rice and lifts the spoon to your mouth. you wish your heart did not flutter, that he was not able to break you down and build you up with such little fanfare.

you let him feed you, silently hurting at his smile. how it reveals his sharp k9s and that stupid chip in his front tooth that he got when you were kids play fighting.

you reach for the bowl and draken's expression falters. he swallows before running a hand through his dark hair. all he does is watch you eat, he tries to make conversation but your answers are brief. you wish he tried harder, that he tried when you needed him.

there is no excuse to give when you are finished eating. you are about to stand when draken stops you.

your body still responds to his touch, jitters wash over your skin. he always has some effect on you.

"you've been avoiding me. you know i don't like that," he is annoyed, it is eerie how calm he is physically when his voice sounds so threatening.

he does not have any right to be mad at you. your face sets in a scowl, "well, i don't like being lied to." you should not provoke him and from the way his jaw clenches, you can tell you are treading on dangerous territory.

"what?" his head tilts. you did not want to fight with him, you never fought with him for years.

there are so many things you let him get away with but it was never this deep. it never hurt you this badly. you have gone too far to stop now.

"you lied to me," you should have been done with him from that night on but when have you ever been able to leave draken alone? you are upset yet you are here, in his apartment looking him dead in his eyes and for the first time he looks angry with you.

"it's been a week, why are you still mad?" he has never looked at you with such an expression before. not with such narrow eyes or such a piercing glare.

"because you told me you'd come! you said you'd be there." your body feels hot with anger as you stand. "you said not to worry. well guess what, my mom isn't here anymore. you were right, one less thing to worry about."

your blood is boiling. for the first time his presence does not calm your nerves. instead, the longer you stare at him, the more infuriated you feel.

"don't blame me, you never got along with her when she was around. i didn't cause that." his lips pull back, he roughly grips your arm as he leans down to level your gaze.

"it's my fault because i waited for you. you always disappoint me but i waited for you." your finger presses into his chest. it is accusatory because the one behind your broken heart is at the end of your nail.

"you're being dramatic." he scoffs, tongue in his cheek while he looks away from you.

"am i? you're the one who said you'd come for me but what happened?" you shove at his shoulder when he rolls his eyes and remains silent. "what happened, draken?" the glare he sends you is deadly.

"did emma call? did you forget all about me the second she called your name? did you run to her when i'm the one that needed you?"

he breathes hard, you swear you see steam coming from him. he grips your upper arms and roughly shakes you.

"yes, you fucking know that so why do you keep asking?" he says it despite all the years you have known each other, regardless of any moment you have together. like all of it is insignificant.

it stuns you for a minute. you knew, yet it still makes your heart ache to hear him say it. you lose your composure entirely for that minute.

he loves emma and you are just a girl he fucks on the side. draken does not care for you any more than he needs to, emma is always going to be his priority.

you did not hold a candle to her flame. no matter how much you dream about it, you do not think you ever would. you grit your teeth, pushing his arms away and stumbling back.

"don't look at me like that," he sighs. his hands swipe over his face before they settle in his hair and he grips at the roots. he is incredibly conflicted, it is typical for him to draw you into his arms when that expression is on your face. though he has never been the reason behind it before.

your ears feel like they are ringing, you are struggling to hold back the tears that fill your eyes. you hate him, you wish you did. hating him is momentary, it is fleeting. your hate never lasts.

"you're a fucking asshole and i hate you." all you both want from this moment is to hurt each other.

"yeah right. say that the next time you're sucking my dick." he sneers. your eyes flicker, face contorting in disgust.

you feel sick. you wonder why you are still here. you truly do not want to throw away all those years you spent by his side. but what good is there fighting for something that can never be?

you hurriedly gather your things with one fleeting glance over his living room.

you swear this is the last time you will be here.

maybe one last grace is what you need to get over him.

draken breathes heavily, holding your wrist as he tries to bring you into his arms. for the first time you fight it, that is all it would take to break your resolve.

"fuck off!" he stares at you in shock. those pretty eyes are blow wide, you never shout at him. "God knows what was going through my mind when i agree to fuck someone like you."

you shove at his chest but it does not move him in the slightest. all it does is relight his anger.

he nears you despite how many times you try to distance yourself. "i don't need you. you think it would make a difference if you left?" cause at the end of it, you know emma is the only one that matters to him.

every word is clear, he enunciates it all because he wants you to be in pain, he wants you to go home and cry over him like you always do.

your whole body tenses, teeth grinding together because you can practically feel the ache in your chest grow more intense. you can feel your heart tear apart. why do you always get hurt in the end?

"fuck you, draken." that is the last thing you say, maybe it is synonymous for 'it's over' but you have never truly been done with him.

you push past him and it is only so easy because he lets you. he lets you leave, you wish he would stop you. you are stupidly hoping he will pull you back to him and tell you he is sorry.

unbeknownst to him the tears are already falling down your cheeks as you storm out of his apartment and slam the door. it feels like you are suffocating, like a second longer in that hell hole would asphyxiate you to death.

you cannot stand the thought of being around him right now yet you know if he apologises you will fall back into his arms.

you feel like throwing up all the food you ate. you feel like he ripped your heart from your chest and tore it to pieces. you flinch at the sound of him cussing, broken glass and stomping emanate from behind the door.

the closer it gets, the more your heart aches. you do not want to see him, you do not think you can handle being near him right now.

your breath shakes as you turn on your heel and run towards the staircase. you desperately needed to be anywhere but here.

--

you stare at the door while your heart is in your throat.

"baby, open up." he bangs on it and you sit curled up on the couch wondering if seeing him is worth the pain that will follow.

tears stream down your face when you shut your eyes. "are you seriously not going to let me in?" he raises his voice, roughly twisting the knob and sucking his teeth. he huffs in exasperation.

"i'm sorry, okay? i'm sorry, just open the fucking door." draken speaks lowly. he does not want to alert the people in your apartment complex.

you are stupid.

for him at least because you do as he says.

you barely turn the lock and he forces it open. you see him and all you remember are the things he said last night.

"fuck, how much did you cry?" his thumb strokes beneath your swollen eyes.

you shove his hand away, "why are you here?"

"c'mon, baby, don't be like that." he always ruins you like this. when you try to get away all he does is bring you back.

and you go.

you go because draken fills your heart and no one compares to him. you have known him for far too long to ever let go.

his large palm cups your waist to guide you a few steps back and he shuts the door. he tugs his jacket off, placing it on the hook like that is his designated place.

like he belongs here.

"i wanted to see you." he draws closer. "i needed to see my girl." the tears come again. perhaps they never ceased. you are not his girl. not when he already has one.

"you've seen me, you can get out now." you should know better.

but you do not know when to leave and draken does not know when to let go. he tugs you in.

you hate to be near him as much as you love it. he holds you flush against him, tilting your head back to keep you looking at him. he is horrible. "you get so mad over nothing." you wish you could hate him.

despite you struggling against him, he is unmoved. just like he always is.

"you're so pretty." his plush lips spread in a heart quickening smile. your fingers tighten in the fabric of his shirt, hoping and wishing him away although you are unable to push him back.

"stop imagining emma." he looks almost irritated when you say it.

"don't be stupid." he has to bend down to press his lips to yours. they are soft, like cotton candy fluff. it takes everything in you to not reciprocate as he kisses you without relent. though you are not responsive he sucks down on your bottom lip, nipping the flesh as he pulls away.

"you don't want to kiss me anymore?"

you shake your head and hurt crosses his face. his jaw clenches but desperation is written in his eyes.

"i want you to leave, draken." he flinches, a scowl on his face but he lets you go and you stumble back.

"i make you a little mad and suddenly i'm draken to you?"

"you don't get it, this is done. whatever this was."

he comes closer, at least he tries to. when you back away he seems stunned. "no it's not." you wish he did not know it so well that you are a fool for him.

"baby, what do you want to hear?" he grips your wrists to pull you in again.

"draken, it's done. i'm done, okay? i'm tired." you sob. you want to press your face to his chest and weep your pain away but he is the cause. he is the reason for it all but he is the only one you want comfort from.

"if you're tired, let's sleep. we're not done." he brings you to his chest, presses wet kisses to your cheek like he is not breaking you. "you want me to say sorry? i'm sorry. see, it's better now."

"it's not. just leave. gosh, just get out, draken." you shove at his chest but you swear a part of you dies when he lets you go.

"you want me to get out? fine. when you're done throwing this stupid tantrum and you come running back, i won't listen." his face is covered with anger.

he turns his back, the further he walks away, the more suffocated you feel.

he hears you crying.

it hurts, it hurts, it hurts.

it is gut wrenching and heart shattering.

whether you see it or not, draken is crying too.

---

if draken does not hurt someone, he surely is going to break something. he can feel the glass straining under his fingers. he grips it tighter the longer he sees you with mitsuya.

you are here, looking like the prettiest doll in the world and you are not with him.

you are in blue, the dress clings to your perfect body and a ribbon is laced around your ponytail.

you are wearing blue and so is he.

truthfully, you and draken can never get rid of each other.

he sees you sipping on some fruity cocktail because that is all you ever drink. he loves looking at you, he always looks at you but he can see mitsuya too.

he can see how he leans closer to you, how his smile only grows wider when you laugh at something he says. he can see mitsuya draping his arm around your seat and being so attentive when draken knows he is the only one that should be around you.

why are you letting mitsuya so close to you? you were with draken for a long time, he was the only one right?

he only fumes more when mikey, emma and just about everyone around him agrees that you and mitsuya would make a good couple.

he sees red.

your eyes flicker to draken despite your attempts to ignore him. his hair is draped to a little below his shoulders, his shirt is fitted and from here you can see the rings on his fingers.

you see all those things, you see ripped jeans and black boots. you see emma practically sitting on his lap. you do not care.

you do.

you came to the conclusion that he is not willing to put her in danger.

but he is willing to be a danger to you and your heart.

"is it okay if i touch you?" mitsuya's hand hovers over your waist. you nod while sipping your drink. "you can say no." he quickly follows.

"i don't mind."

he sends you a smile and his hand softly caresses your waist.

"are you doing better? if you need to talk, i'm here for you." he is sweet, he has always been. mitsuya has never been a bad friend to you.

"thanks." you down the rest of your drink before turning to face him. "i'll be fine someday." your head screams at you for lying. draken is here and he is not with you. he is with someone else.

he has always been with someone else.

"i know things have been hard since." he pauses, his hand grasps yours. "since everything but i'd still like to see you. you can still come around like you used to."

his palms are so soft, draken's are not. draken's hands have callouses, they are rough and for some reason they feel like they were meant to touch you.

you consider mitsuya, he is your friend. your eyes glimpse over his features. his thumb strokes your hand and you have just begun to appreciate the feeling of someone other than draken when it is ripped away.

the one holding your wrist feels right even though it hurts.

draken towers above you, he sends mitsuya a stony look before he pulls you up and his hand squeezes your waist.

like he wants to overwrite any other person. like he needs to reclaim the places that are only meant for him and not for another man to touch.

you melt. you thaw like ice and turn into liquid. draken pulls you alongside him and you follow.

you have to take quick steps because his are much larger than yours.

once you are outside of the club, the silence is a stark contrast to the loud music. draken breathes heavily, brushing his hair back.

"were you fucking him?" you flinch when the words come out. that was the last thing you expect him to say.

"i'm not dealing with this, draken." you shake your head but he grips your waist. he holds your body and gathers you in his arms like he always does.

"stop treating me like a stranger." his voice strains. "tell me if you were fucking him on the side."

"you're terrible." tears prick your eyes. he has the audacity to accuse you when he has never been yours. he never gave himself to you.

"you did? was he your back up if i ever stepped out?" his fingers squeeze hard enough to bruise. "i never stepped out on you, not once."

"no, draken. i'm not like you." he is destroying you. whether he knows it or not. you are sure he knows it though because draken knows you better than anyone else.

"then why were you with him, why did you let him touch you?" you try to push him away, you really do. all you want is to lay in his arms and all he does is argue with you.

"who are you to ask me that? we're done, remember?" he grits his teeth, burying his head into your neck. draken breathes in your scent and lets it intoxicate him. you intoxicate him.

"we're never going to be over, baby. not you and me." he kisses at your exposed skin. it makes you want to cry more than you already are.

"you have emma." your voice trembles. you tremble. you feel like you are a tower of cards and you are about to collapse entirely.

draken leans back to meet your eyes, his gaze trails over the tears in your pretty eyes and the pout on your lips. his nose nudges yours and then he kisses you.

he kisses you and you feel him everywhere, all at once. you feel him in his palms gliding down your body. you feel him where his tongue claims your mouth all over again. in the spit that is messily exchanged as he sloppily kisses you.

you feel your blood growing hot enough to warm you completely. he pulls away to repeatedly peck your cheek.

"let me go." you brokenly whisper.

"we're going home, okay? i'm taking you home cause you're my girl."

---

when draken gets you into his apartment, he pulls you flush against him. his hands coax over every curve of your body. "i missed you," his nose nuzzles your cheek and you tense under his touch.

it is difficult to be mad at him and being this close is only breaking your resolve further. you push at his chest but all he does is tighten his hold until you can feel the hard, defined muscle of his abdomen.

he is too tempting.

he laughs though it is not very amused. his large palms, grip your waist before they drift to the hem of your dress and slip beneath it. "you're all dressed up and it isn't for me."

"it's not like that." you cannot protest much because draken grips your jaw, forcing you to look at him. the angle he tilts your head at is incredibly uncomfortable.

"it is, you got this pretty for him." your eyes roll, an annoyed noise leaving you. it did not make sense to dispute it, not when he already came to some conclusion in his head.

his hands cup your face, the thick of his thumb swiping over your lips, smearing the lipstick. "your makeup looks so pretty." his tone of his voice is indecipherable. you cannot seem to understand him these days. you barely have the will to try.

draken cannot stand the idea of you thinking about another man. it does not sit right with him that you got this pretty and went out with someone else.

draken does not need you to do all this for his eyes to be on you. he leans closer and you do not resist, you cannot.

not when his hooded eyes meet yours and your lips brush together. you need affection, his affection. you can not deny that no matter how hard you try to.

his tongue slips out to wet his lips before he tilts his head and kisses you. it is rough, it is desperate, it does not make sense. why does he kiss you like this when he does not love you at all?

he hums into your mouth, tongue slipping inside to brush over everywhere he has already been. places he always comes back to.

your hands bunch his shirt, eyes squeezing shut because you regret it but you still kiss him with the same burning need.

you pull away breathless, turning from him because it is obvious you are not done like you said you were.

"fuck," draken rasps, leaning in again to suck at your bottom lip. his cock pulses at the way you whine. he wipes at the saliva with his thumb before pressing it against your tongue.

"wanna fuck your mouth." you swallow hard, eyes fluttering. you should not, you know you should not but just this? you just need this much and you will leave.

"gonna be a good baby and let me?" the depth of his voice makes a shiver travel down your spine. how can you refuse when he talks like that?

draken never needs much to sway you, regardless of how stubborn you act. you grip his wrist, pushing it away and he is about to grab you right back when your smaller palms trail down his chest.

the corners of his mouth pull up, "there's my girl." it is drawn out and all too smug. his tongue swipes over his teeth like he finally got what he was waiting for.

your fingers dip into the rivets of his chest and abs. he is all hard muscle where you are soft. you slowly situate yourself on your knees, your hands resting on his thighs.

you are eye level with his erection that was straining in his pants since the moment he laid his eyes on you. he is still smiling, he missed the sight of you between his legs.

each and every time he got to see you look up at him like this, it plagued his mind. you keep watching as his dexterous fingers flex, unbuckling his belt and undoing his zip.

"fuck," his hands fidget, his whole body seems to be vibrating. he tugs his shirt up, his deep v-line framed by the waistband of his boxers is revealed to you.

"did you miss it?" he stares at you the second he pushes down his pants enough to let his cock out. it looks painfully hard. it is slightly curved, just the sight of it makes your insides ache.

he is too big.

draken is bordering on perfect. maybe that is why he is such an asshole. your finger swipes over his slit, pre oozing in thick droplets. your eyes trail from the swollen brownish head to the veins that trailed along the underside.

"i did." your confession comes out breathy, thighs clenching together almost on instinct. he hums, holding his length at the base, breath hitching at the sudden contact.

he presses the tip to your lips, the glossy finish of his pre looks better on you than that stupid lipstick. "open," he sighs quietly, focused on the sticky strands of your spit and the way your tongue squirms under the weight of his cock.

"fuck." his lip pulls back in a grin, he is pretty, especially when he has that expression on his face. your mouth encloses the bulbous part, your slick muscle laves around his slit and a low moan reverberates through ken's chest.

your mouth is too warm, too wet. it feels too good around him. the silky walls of your cheeks and the way your tongue always seems to be heated. how could you expect him to not be addicted?

you pull off, saliva dripping down his length and staining your face. you always got so messy, draken's jaw slackens when you run your tongue along his length before taking him back into the wet haven of your mouth.

you sink down on him and tears prick at your eyes because it is so much. your hand grips what you cannot fit before removing your mouth with a sniffle.

he is in awe at how little your hand always looks when it is grasping him. how much softer it is than his, how it struggles to wrap around him properly.

you jerk up and down his length, swallowing hard. there is an excessive amount of saliva in your mouth. you look up at him and he cups your face. your lips come around his cock, gradually hollowing your cheeks to take him more. the salty taste of his pre is in your mouth, somehow you missed it.

half of his cock is within the confines of your mouth and it seems draken was waiting until you could not retort.

"i hope you can still take me... or maybe you got used to less." his jaw locks, the thought of mitsuya getting his claws into you makes ken sick. your eyes flick up to his, streams of tears down your face. your lipstick all smeared.

ken wants it stained around the base of his cock if he is honest.

maybe then you would know it is only for him. his hand tangles into your hair, gripping the roots as a deep groan escapes him. he watches his length disappear past your lips, the walls of your throat fluttering around him, pulsing.

all the muscles squeezing his length make his hips stutter. perspiration coats his skin and his adam's apple bobs with each of his gasps as he sinks more of his cock past your lips.

it takes a while before your cute nose is pressed to his abdomen, nuzzling the short hair. he sighs, the silky walls of your tight throat are wrapped around him like it is only his to claim.

he lets you get used to it, holding you to his base whilst your tongue wriggles beneath his cock and the heat of your mouth covers him entirely. your hands tightly grip the fabric at his thighs, eyes fluttering continuously before they finally stare up at him.

almost like you are waiting for him to use you. he thinks your eyes should not look that wide nor that innocent.

maybe it is because they never changed even as you have grown. as long as draken has known you, you have never had anyone. he wants to be your someone.

his free hand wraps around your neck, there is a prominent bulge from his member and the feel of it beneath his fingers makes him shiver.

"bet you like having me in your throat like this." he practically whines. "fuck, m'agine you're choking on my dick like a slut." he anchors his hand in your hair before he slowly thrusts. he thinks the way your shoulders tense is too cute.

low moans leave him, he grows louder as his speed increases. he cannot leave you alone, not even if he wanted to.

he does not want to.

his head tilts back, he can feel your muscles moving along him, he can feel your tongue trembling at the underside.

your mouth is so slick with him it is easy to glide his length in and out of you. his abs strain, the veins on his abdomen appearing more. there is an impeding feeling inside him.

wet sounds fill the room as he fucks your mouth, the way he dreamed of during those days without you. he wants this back so badly.

he wants you.

tears freely coat your dewy skin. his thumb rubs at your neck, the bulge forming with each thrust pulses under his digit.

"does it hurt, baby? oh, fuck, getting your pretty throat rawed like this." you feel so, so good. the way you feel on him is inconceivable and indescribable. ken wants this forever.

his grip on your hair tightens as more pre cum is spewed into the back of your throat. he humps at your mouth, he cannot do without this, he cannot do without you.

draken's teeth grind, his breathing stuttering, the evident rise of his chest growing laboured all because he is using you. your lips look like they are straining, he can feel your breaths on him. the weight of your fist tugging his pants and pressing against him. he can definitely feel the need to cum approaching quicker than usual.

he is sure it will help with the soreness of your throat right now. ken wants to give you his cum and claim your mouth again.

"only thing you're swallowing is my dick and my cum" he hates the thought of it being anyone else. his head leans back, jaw dropped to moan.

he feels like he is losing his senses, he feels you all over him. his cock throbs in your mouth, slipping in and out of the perimeter of your slicked lips. "such a good fucking girl, feel so good." he bites down on his lip before hot air puffs from his mouth, his chest and shoulders tense.

draken's deep voice is cut by groans. he is there, he is so close. the warm wetness of your mouth, the drool leaking down your jaw, the tight grip of your throat stroking his length. he cannot take it much more.

he shoves himself completely into you, gripping your hair and caressing your face. he feels the muscles squeezing down on him because he is not supposed to be there.

he wipes the tears on your cheeks but it does not make a difference when everything is so messy. draken's hips stutter, his balls coated in saliva are leaning on your jaw.

you are too good. you are perfect.

his cock throbs, he is breathless and panting as his back tenses and an onslaught of cum is poured into your eager throat. there is so much it spews out of your mouth as you try your hardest to swallow it all.

"you're so good to me, baby." you take him so well, you always do.

he feels you swallowing the salty semen, he stills for a moment. the way your throat clenches on him is otherworldly. a tandem of curses leave him before he pulls you back by your hair and his cock slips from your tight throat.

it is obscene, how the mixture of cum and spit drips from your mouth and the sticky strands remain webbed to his cock. "holy fuck." he leans your head back, admiring the dazed look in your eyes.

he is panting, barely maintaining his composure. "you're so nasty, such a pretty cock slut, huh?" his lip tilts up as he says it. you only get like this for him.

his large palms reach down to lace his fingers with yours as he lifts you. his eyes glaze over your swollen lips and the tear streaks staining your cheeks.

he is quick to press his body onto yours and kiss you. it is way too sweet, especially since his taste is still tainting your mouth. he moans, tightly wrapping you in his arms as he kisses you harder.

his teeth hit yours and ken is pushing more into you. a deep hum reverberates through him as his tongue glides along yours. it has more wetness coating between your thighs. you wondered why he fit so perfectly with you when he was not made for you.

"don't show anyone else this pretty face, it's only for me." he huffs barely an inch away. he will not let you get on your knees for another man. not as long as he is alive.

his frivolous fingers grope your ass, tugging the fabric of your dress up. the roughness of his finger tips press against the wetness your pussy has leaked into your panties. his greedy touches are accompanied by wet kisses to your cheeks.

you wish you could resist him and you try, you really do. "draken, enough." your voice is weak and distant, you hold his wrists but you do not do anything to stop him. you want to distance yourself from him. you want to end this, right?

a scowl pulls over kens features, "don't call me that like you weren't just sucking my dick." nothing you do can get you away from him. draken is truly unshakeable even as you push at his built chest.

"i want to go home," you huff, shoving at him harder but all it does is make him grip you until you are hissing in pain. "no." you brows furrow at his refusal.

draken wants you to understand that you are home. he has been dropping signs for you to stay here for years. how dense are you? when will you understand that it is you and him against the world.

"we're either fucking or this is the last time you see me," you stare at him in faux disgust. like the thought of him repulses you because you desperately try to convince yourself of it.

you swallow hard. "i already told you, we're done."

he does not falter, not even a little.

instead he reels you in closer. his harsh touches are gentler now, tracing your cheek and dusting over your lips. his eyes are so intense as he glimpses over your features. he is not holding you to him, not anymore.

you can pull away, you can leave so why don't you? something about draken enamours you until you lose cognisance.

"you don't really want that. you don't want me to go away." his voice is like temptation incarnate. he strokes at your hair, brushing the stray strands back.

perhaps, you are too far gone when it comes to him. he is all you have ever known, how can you leave him now?

he sees your bottom lip tremble at the thought and he is pulling you into his embrace. he tucks you under his chin, right against his heart. "it's okay." you cannot think much when all you can smell and feel is him. when you can still taste him on your tongue. "sleep with me and your ken won't ever leave."

he does not need a verbal response because the empty look in your eyes tells all. you are like a ditzy slut but you are his so he is okay with it.

draken scoops you up into his arms. something he usually does. your fingers dig into the fabric of his shirt whilst he carries you.

everything about you is doll like, from your features to how easily he can do with you as he pleases. you are engulfed by his scent more, if that is even possible. he situates you on his sheets, where you have spent too many nights to count.

you stare at him with wide glassy eyes. what is it that you wanted to say? no? you wanted to say no.

you wanted to be done and you wanted him to leave you alone but the thought makes you nauseous. it makes your heart ache and your ears ring. you cannot fathom being without him.

when his large frame leans down to kiss you gently. when he is cupping your face and tilting your head to deepen it. you cannot say no, not when he is doing all the things you dreamed of.

he is so much bigger than you, in every way. his palms are large and he is covered in muscle. he is tall and intimidating.

he could hurt you. instead his touch coaxes over your waist before he laces his fingers with yours.

"you're so fucking gorgeous." he muses. draken straightens up, looking down at you nestled in his sheets. it is where you belong.

he thinks you look like an angel, one that is fresh out of heaven. your eyes do not leave him as he reaches for the hem of his shirt and swiftly tugs it over his head.

he flashes you a grin, his body flexing beneath your heavy gaze. you are admiring the scars on his skin, the sharpness of his abs and the definition of his biceps. why is he so perfect? why does he always look so stunning?

"like it?" you nod your head as he slips his thumbs into the rivets of his v line and tugs his jeans and boxers down.

he is bare when his knee digs into the mattress and he leans over you. "yeah? you like me?" his hand pets your hair, like you are a dumb puppy begging for praise. your cunts leaking from everything he does, you can feel the liquid dripping from your slit to your ass. "you love me. you do" draken groans.

you nod so eagerly, your throat feels constricted, you are so overwhelmed. everything he says is true. everything he does makes you want him more, love him more.

his strong arms wrap around you, the touch of his fingers on your spine makes you arch up. he is finally unzipping your dress after craving to do it for so long. he kisses your mouth softly, trailing down your neck and continuing over every inch of skin that is revealed as he tugs the fabric down.

draken settles on his knees, his hot breath hitting your breasts and wet, open mouthed kisses are left down your stomach. he huffs, his nose digging into your flesh as his hot tongue slips out. it presses into your abdomen, just above your cunt.

you grip the sheets, the sharpness of his dark eyes meet yours as the length of his tongue trails over your tummy.

there is so much tension in the air it is almost suffocating, you find yourself wishing his tongue was inside you already.

he leans back, thumbs hooking into your panties and stripping you bare of all your clothes. the slick between your legs is sticky to your panties, so soaked they are peeled away.

you swallow hard as draken's hands cup the back of your knees and spread you open for him.

"you have the prettiest cunt, i swear." he whistles. his eyes grow darker the longer he stares. he is entranced by how easy you are to wind up. "all you did was suck some cock and you're dripping." there is a hum deep in his chest.

you are left staring up at him dumbly as he admires you. you cannot formulate a coherent thought aside from him. he is the only thing in your head. your ken.

your body feels unbelievably warm, inside and out with all his fleeting touches. he leans down, your thighs propped on his shoulders as he gets closer to your slick cunt.

you feel like you are intoxicated somehow. maybe it is the alcohol but you only feel this high when he is the one touching you.

his middle and ring finger glide over your sopping entrance. a whine escapes you, fingers tightening in his sheets as he slips one of the lengthy digits inside you. he does not stop, not at all. it is relentlessly pressed all the way to his knuckle.

even as you whimper, even though your walls pulse around him. his eyes do not leave yours when the length of his tongue slips out. a thick glob of saliva slipping from the tip to your already messy cunt.

the pinkness of his lips enclose around your stiff clit. his tongue gliding along it as he sucks and the other coated finger is forcing its way inside.

he needs to stretch you out and fast. he needs you ready to take him. "ken!" it is high pitched, bordering on a whine. you grip his hair. you are already panting, already wanting more.

draken's free hand glides from your hip to grip your waist. he moans into your pussy, the vibration travelling through your entire being. his fingers pump into you with messy sounds. it is like you are sucking them in, as if you do not want to let him go.

wet squelches echo through the room, slick leaks from you and stains his digits.

"there's my girl, keep saying ken." his tongue prods your stilted bundle of nerves, sucking on it like he has done before.

he knows your body like the back of his hand. knows that every curl of his fingers within your dripping cunt has your hips stuttering and your back arching up.

he knows that his mouth on your clit makes your eyes water and your jaw hang open. knows that those moans are because he is hitting so deep inside, you cannot control yourself.

you are breathless when his fingers slip out and his mouth encloses your dripping slit. his tongue is pushed in entirely. you are squealing at the wet muscle that wriggles along your walls.

draken's eyes roll back at the taste of your cunt and he moans. he went without it, without you for too long. he does not think he can do it again.

he will not let himself be without you for that long ever again.

you cry his name, fingers gripping his hair for some semblance of self control. the tighter you hold, the harder he sucks on you.

draken feels like he could spend forever between your legs. like he could die happy if the last thing he tasted was you. his mouth has you drooling and cross eyed. it has your thighs trembling and you bite your lips so much they are raw.

ken is the only one who gets you like this, he is the only one who will ever get the opportunity. "feels good. so good. s'deep." you babble on and on and ken thinks it is the cutest.

he is lapping at your cunt like a man who is deprived of water. honestly, he is and he is upset with you. of course he is.

who did you think you were staying away from him?

he pulls back, slick coating his lips and covering his tongue. "wanna cum." you mewl and his brows raise. his fingers slip right back inside you, all at once. he does not miss a beat as he fucks them into you. "think you deserve it? you haven't been nice, babe." he presses his face to your plush thigh.

gazing up at your expression, you already look like you are fucked dumb. "m'sorry, sorry, ken. i'm sorry." you whimper, dainty fingers reaching for his hand to hold it.

you are such a baby.

what did you get by acting like this aside from making him obsessed with you?

it is such an adorable apology but you spent days away from him. he could hardly function, why did you think it was okay to do that to him? he is catching tears in your eyes, like crystals that are priceless. he sees your snotty nose and pouted lips.

he truly cannot let go of you.

his fingers quicken and your head hits the sheets, leaning back as your hips rock. "close, baby?" your head bobs quickly, "so closeee." your voice is all drawled and heavy with desire.

his mouth covers your cunt again, still fucking into you as your entire body heats up. your stomach feels like there are a million knots within it.

you are crying out his name so adorably, ken cannot help but grin a bit while he is making out with your pussy. your hand squeezes his, nails nicking his skin as you rock your hips against his face. the burning in your abdomen intensifies, only growing greater.

your thighs shift closer together but he is there to stop them, your back arches completely off the mattress when you reach that high. your mind feels white hot, vision going blurry because he does not stop even as you cum.

your tongue is practically lolling out as he laps at your cunt and your body vibrates from the feeling. high pitched moans fill the room all breathy and desperate.

your chest heaves, gripping ken's hand as you try to find your bearings. you can feel his breath hit your entrance, he does not make a move from where he is.

"those days you were ignorin' me." he pauses, his fingers dig into your thigh. you can feel him squeezing your hand tightly, it is not as gentle as it started.

"did you let him see you like this?" your eyes flutter, trying your hardest to steady your breathing. "i didn't sleep with him." you mumble, leaning into the softness of the pillows. your body feels exhausted already.

ken roughly pulls away from you, the sudden jolt shocks you but he is over you in a second. his hand grips your jaw, gaze narrowed. "don't lie." his voice is low in warning. it is hard to keep a straight face when cum is covering his lips and dripping down his face. it makes you flustered completely. his eyes stare into yours as though he is attempting to read your soul.

"m'not lying to you, ken." you shove at his chest but all draken does is grip both your wrists to tug your body down the bed.

he has your legs on either side of his waist and his cock's resting on your stomach. he can see where he will reach once he is inside. his hands caress your thighs, trailing to your hips that he grips lightly.

he leans down to claim your lips, your slick rubbing onto you and resting on your tongue. your body feels weak but your arms wrap around his neck and bring him closer. fingers wound in his hair as you kiss him more desperately, more lovingly. you wish he would believe you, when have you ever betrayed him?

his palm slips between your spread legs, prodding your entrance and you pull away from his mouth with a hiss. you are pushing at his forearm but ken does not approve at all, it is evident in his expression.

"ken, wait for a bit..." you are still unbearably sensitive. he does not see it that way, instead his head tilts, eyes so dark they seem black.

"did mitsuya loosen you up for me?" his tone is covered with anger, he feels sick to his stomach. he is being tortured by images of you and him. ken cannot take it, not at all.

your eyes widen at his words, stilling for a moment. "don't talk to me like i'm some slut." there is a frown tugging ken's lips down. you were doing so well, everything was going so well and now he is upset about things that never happened.

"you are, you were fucking him too." he grits out, jaw clenching tightly. the thought makes him want to throw up. it makes him want to hurt mitsuya for ever putting his hands on you.

"i didn't do that, ken. when did you stop trusting me?" your chest heaves, brows furrowed in dismay.

"since you started being a whore." your lip trembles, eyes filling with tears that burn. your throat feels like if you speak you will break down into tears.

you turn your head away from him, sniffles leaving you as you desperately fight tears. they still coat your cheeks like an endless waterfall.

you did not want to break down in front of him, you did not want him to see how easily he makes you cry. it is too late when you are in his room, on his bed with your heart ripped out of your chest and given to him. your body shakes with sobs, squeezing your lids shut.

"why do you always do this to me?" your voice is broken. the second his fingers stroke your face, you wonder why you always give him this power.

why do you let him him make you cry and break you down without consequence? "because i want you here." he breathes, his large palms encasing your breasts and rubbing at your nipples.

he kisses you even as you cry, even as you sob into his mouth but it is okay because you let him slip his tongue inside.

you are still okay with him biting on your bottom lip and kissing you like this. his touch trails down your stomach to your hips.

a sigh leaves him as he reaches for his hard erection, so much pre cum leaking from his swollen tip. he guides the head between your spread folds.

an excessive amount of slick coating him while he drags it along your opening. your pussy seems to miss him as much as you did because your treacherous body is growing hotter.

you both looking at where he breaches you, your breath catches at the thickness of his head is forced into your gummy walls. "real fuckin tight." ken whistles, his abs tenses because he is seconds away from fucking the entire thing into you.

your cunt is like nirvana, your insides squeeze down on him although he barely put the tip in.

"i missed you." he huffs, his fingers dig into the thick flesh of your thighs, his hips slowly surging forward and making you cry. "c'mon open up, relax for me." he thrusts again, your back arches up.

you whimper his name, ken loves the way you say it. his thumb swipes over the barely there lipstick on your mouth before he is pressing it inside.

your spit filled mouth encloses around the digit and ken grins. his eye brows knit together at the slick sound that comes from your pussy gripping him.

your silky walls are pulsing around him uncontrollably. ken wishes he could be inside you forever. he rolls your clit, your cunt gushing over his cock and he only fucks more of himself into you with each thrust.

your hand presses against ken's abdomen but he is so much stronger. he clicks his tongue. "don't try to run from it. y'know you can take it." his voice is so deep it's almost gravelly. your resistance is trembling.

"i can feel your pretty cunt squeezing me, i know you want more" his thumb slips further into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat until you gag. "i know you want to be stuffed full, you missed it, didn't you?" you nod dumbly.

he thinks you look pretty like this, swollen lips and messy hair. filled with cock and sucking on his thumb like you are made for it. you are, you are made for him.

it takes one particularly hard thrust before he is completely inside of you. his entire cock throbs alongs your pulsing walls, your body tenses because you feel so unbearably full.

you whine, you swear he is nudging your cervix. you can feel him in your stomach, you can see where the head of his cock has it bulging. you moan his name and all it does is make ken smile.

his girth stretches you out so much that it burns. you are left with your chest heaving as he pulls your leg onto his shoulder and he holds the other open.

he can see your cunt spread open around him, your pelvis is flush to his, your insides are holding him so tightly he feels like he can barely move.

his hips slam into you, your body jolts and your legs shake. he leans over, lifting you until your ass is off the bed and fucks you the way he was dying to in all the days you were not with him. "baby, baby, you're perfect" he pants. "got the sweetest cunt."

the lengthy locks of ivory hang on either side of his face, he looks too pretty. you are a whimpering, drooling mess beneath his large frame.

you press on the spot that distends your tummy with each pump of his hips. you both sigh at the feeling. ken is looking at where you are taking him between your legs, where his cock slips in and out completely doused in your juices.

you are met with the chain you got him. it hangs in your face and the anklet he got you is right next to his ear. in mockery, in proof, you are not quite sure.

when draken fucks you like this he wonders why it was so difficult for you to accept that you are his.

your fists find the soaked sheets, your body feels hot and sweat coats your skin. you feel like there is cotton in your head. tears stream down your cheeks and traces of saliva are on your lips. you are always so easily lost in him.

your eyes squeeze shut, he is pounding you into the sheets like you are a sex doll. ken is all you can feel, all you can think about. you sigh in contentment. you are hardly coherent.

"ken, you're so big." you mewl, his fingers dig into your skin, his nails pressing against the flesh.

"yeah? you missed me fucking you? missed having my cock deep in this pussy? pretty girl, all you think about is my dick." you whine and his voice is filled with amusement.

growing breathy the longer he is wrapped in your vice walls and covered in your viscous liquid.

he slams his hips to yours, each dragging you along his length. you can feel his skin sticky everywhere you are touching him.

your cream forms a white ring along the base of his cock and leaks down his balls. "messy." he clicks his tongue. your little body looks so precious under him.

you are taking a cock that is way too big for you but you take it so well.

you always do.

you can hardly think when he is shoving so deep inside that you swear he is bruising your cervix. a light clink and the coldness of metal on your forehead has your eyes opening in confusion.

"ken?" he does not stop moving. your body shakes and you writhe from his brutal ministrations. "you scared, baby?" he grins, his hand comes down to rest on your sternum and he leans over you more.

you are not scared, it should worry you that you are not scared in the slightest.

you trust him with your life.

even as he holds a gun to your head you cannot find it in yourself to be afraid of him.

it should worry you even more that the only thing that generates a reaction from you is him pressing the same gun to his temple.

you jerk.

"stop!" you cannot even reach for his hand when he is holding you down like this. you are so insanely confused.

a new influx of tears streaming from your eyes as your pleas fall on deaf ears. you wish he would stop being reckless.

"isn't that cute? now you care." he pauses his hips, your nails dig into his forearm but draken does not flinch.

he accuses you when he is the only thing you care about, the only thing you ever think of.

"i want to you to know, this is what will happen if you leave me again." your lips part in shock, his eyes are dark. so dark.

there is an overwhelming feeling of worry washing over you.

"ken, this is crazy." your voice cracks as you cry.

"is it?" you are painfully away that his cock is throbbing inside you. "it's crazy that you were running around with some other guy."

"i wasn't, i swear i wasn't."

"are you going to leave me, baby? that's all i need to know." his hand leaves your sternum to stroke your cheek. it is so gentle.

your heart feels like it has taken too much pain to work. "you don't want me." it hurts. it hurts but you know it is true.

drakens lips pulled back in a scowl. his expression is unreadable, he is unreadable. you never understand him.

he applies pressure to the trigger and nausea fills your senses. your scream bloody murder because you have to look at him hold a gun to his head but you cannot do anything. he does not allow you.

"promise you won't leave." he says and you cry, pleading endlessly. you cannot handle losing him in any capacity. you cannot lose him at all.

"m'sorry, please don't" your throat feels so tight, it hurts to speak. "i won't leave so please stop!" you hiccup, holding his hand and praying he can see the desperation in your eyes.

"say it again" his eyes grow hooded, like those words falling off your tongue are music to his ears. you only sob harder.

"i won't ever leave you. i promise i won't." you voice is hoarse and wavering. your eyes do not move from the metal barrel aimed at his head.

you are fretting in worry but ken looks glad. he looks delighted even. the flash of his teeth makes you swallow.

"and you love me?" his head tilts. "i do." you whisper. you have never told him that before.

how could you protect your heart if you were professing your love for him? right now it does not seem to matter.

"i love you, ken. always did." your voice is barely audible, you swear the pounding of your heart is louder than it.

"close your eyes." you shake your head, completely confused. you are terrified.

"do it if you love me." tears leak from your eyes because now you do not have a choice. you shake with sobs as you close your eyes.

"good girl, such a good girl. you're always so perfect for me." draken's body covers yours, his nose nuzzling your face and you cry harder when he kisses your skin.

"please, ken, please, please." your arms wrap around him, fingers finding purchase in his skin because you cannot see him.

"are you scared?" you nod your head with a broken whimper.

"please, ken, i love you. i need you." you cannot see the grin that crosses his face but draken is all too pleased.

his mouth meets your ear "i need you too." you feel an ounce of relief and then the shrill of a gun unloading makes you scream.

it is so loud you instantly feel sick. your entire body trembles, your scream aches your throat and shakes everything in the apartment.

your heart feels like it jumped out of your chest and you are expecting blood or a body but instead you hear draken's low laugh and your eyes open.

"don't leave again or it'll be a bullet." it seems he is finally satisfied. he drops the gun to the sheets and you shove it further away.

his palm cups your cheek and brings your attention back to him. he wipes at your tears, cooing at your miserable expression.

"you only have me to love. remember that." you cannot process his words. your chest is heavy, breathing stuttered by panic. still racked with sobs but you are reaching for him.

his large frame is tugged down over you, practically covering you completely. your leg is pressed closer to your chest. he is so warm, you can feel his skin and remind yourself that he is here.

he causes all your troubles yet he is the only person capable of comforting you. "relax." he coos but it only makes you cry harder.

your body trembles against him but all ken has to do is wrap his arms around you and your worries lessen. "please, never again." because you swear your heart will stop beating if he put a gun to his head for a second time.

he pacifies you with sweet caresses along your hair before he pulls back. he smiles when you whimper, drying your cheeks but they are freshly coated with new tears. you are touching at his skin frantically, anything to remind yourself that he is really with you.

"gonna let me fuck you like you deserve? since you were such a good girl." his eyes do not leave yours, he nods his head and you find yourself nodding along with him despite how far gone your mind is.

draken hums, leaning over you as your legs wrap around his toned waist. he smiles, swiping at your tears, pressing the sweetest kiss to your lips before he trails down your neck.

your eyes flutter, breathing finally slowing but a gasp escapes your lips as his mouth encloses your nipple. you swallow hard, thighs tensing around him.

his eyes flick up to yours, face all too smug when his hips begin to rock. his teeth scrape the skin of your nipple, tongue flicking over it as he pulls away.

"like when i play with these cute tits of yours?" you are too flustered, way too dazed and dumb. your head leans away, why does he make you feel like this? his deep voice has your cunt leaking and your heart beating out of your chest.

"don't act shy, your pussy's squeezing me so hard, i know you like it." you do not have a chance to deal with the way his words have settled heat into your bones because his mouth encloses over your throat to leave more marks.

his thrusts are growing faster, rougher and you find yourself melting into a puddle, like dough you become whatever he wants.

you are only capable of moaning his name so prettily that draken's insides grow fuzzy. you are so good, too good. your hand slips into the lengthy strands of his hair.

"ken." you tug him closer, you wonder how much closer he can get than being deep enough to hit your cervix. you want him closer than his lips brushing against yours every time he fucks his hips into yours. you want him closer than the way your nipples are grazing his hard chest.

you want to crawl into his skin and make it your home.

you want him.

you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, your tongue slipping into his mouth when you pull him down. you can feel his blunt nails digging into your skin, he is bruising your waist and hips.

spit coats your mouths like gloss. "ken, i love you, i love you." you never said it to him, regardless of the countless times you thought it when you looked at him.

hearing those words roll off your tongue almost makes draken cum instantly. you are finally able to say it and you want to take advantage of it.

"fuck. you're mine. not mitsuya's, not anyone else's." his cheeks are reddened, the sharpness of his thrusts makes your back arch off the sheets. his chest heaves, the brown of his eyes stare into yours "you're mine."

you nod because it is all you ever wanted. you say yes, you sign yourself over to him entirely. you would do it in this lifetime and every single one that came after.

you cannot think at all, your jaw hanging open, your nails digging into his skin. you can feel the sting against your thighs with every thrust. something about the way he crowds over you, so much bigger, covered in muscle makes your insides hotter.

it makes you burn with want and need. your legs wrap around his waist tighter. feeling ken's hand grip your throat. you want him in every way.

you want him to fuck you like this and kiss you sweetly later. you want draken more than you have ever wanted anything else. and draken wants you like that too.

"you're my girl, my slut," he huffs into your face and the whine that leaves you is atrocious. the feeling he stirs up inside you with just those words is insane.

"maybe if i knocked your pretty ass up, you'd stop acting so stupid" he slams his hips into yours, he thrust so hard that he opens up the inside of your gummy walls every time and hits so deep you lose yourself a little bit more.

all draken can think about is pouring load after load into your leaking hole and giving you his baby. all he wants is to pound inside of you until there is no doubt that you will be swollen with his seed.

"huh? if i gave you a baby to take care of, you wouldn't have time to get mad at me" you mewl, your nails dig into his skin. he leans down to messily kiss you. his spit feels sticky in your mouth, he kisses harder, his cock being fucked into you so roughly your head blanks.

"pussy feels so good inside. you're going to take it right? all for me? going to take my cum and keep it in this cute cunt?" you cry when he pounds particularly hard and you can feel every inch of him.

you bob your head in agreement although you have no clue what he says.

"ken i love you so much." you babble, tears leak down your face.

"yeah? i should give you something then, since you're so good. should stuff this tight little hole with so much cum. you want it, pretty baby?" draken flashes you a grin when you nod. your eyes flutter, he pounds his hips harder and harder.

his movements grow uneven, he groans into your face. pressing soft kisses to your cheeks. he loses himself in the feeling of your vice walls squeezing him.

"you'll make such a pretty mommy." his forehead meets yours, you whimper so adorably when you clamp down and your pretty cunt creams all over him.

even then draken does not give you a moment's rest.

he curses lowly, his hips press flush to yours, only pulling out partially before slamming roughly into you. your body writhes with oversensitivity. you claw at his flesh, crying softly.

when he cums you swear it burns. it paints every inch of your walls and the sticky strands of cum seem never ending. it pools in your cunt and seeps around the perimeter of his thick cock.

he is panting over you, his face buried in your neck and your fingers slip into his hair. you stroke it even as he remains inside you. even as ken wraps his arms tighter around you and he presses kisses to your throat. "don't leave." he whispers so softly into your skin that you would have missed it.

"i won't." you mumble back and he huffs a heavy sigh like the reassurance is everything he needs and more. his strong arms squeeze you, fingers taunt on your skin as he coddles you against him. your legs tighten around his waist and you really think that this is what bliss truly is.

he does not want to let you go, he does not want to leave you.

his mouth presses into yours, gently kissing you, he peppers kisses to your face before he leans back. a whine escapes you when he slips his cock from your pussy.

you can feel the cum he kept plugged inside you gushing out and your body tenses. it finally dawns on you what he did. draken's eyes trail from your messy cunt to your expression and he is bothered by the unsureness contorting your features.

he presses a deep kiss to your mouth, almost like he wants to remind you it is him, that it is okay because it's him, that you were going to be with him one way or another. he caresses your face and you pursue your lips as he stands from the bed and goes to the bathroom.

you are stuck in your thoughts, your eyes on him when he reenters the room and he starts wiping you off. you are sore and tired yet you cannot seem to sleep because what does this mean for you and him?

once he is done he climbs into the bed with you, he tucks himself along your side, his bicep your pillow and his nose nuzzling your cheek. you are both still completely bare, his arm wraps around your waist and it is silent for a moment before his deep voice flitters through the air.

"do you think it took?" your brows raise, eyes slightly alarmed. what does he mean by that? you know what he means. you swear it was all in the heat of the moment.

your eyes meet his, "what?" you are exasperated but draken is unphased.

"my seed." it makes a shiver run down your spine. you furrow your brows, you are not sure what you should say.

"i don't know... i don't think so," you cannot picture yourself pregnant, not right now. you never thought he would want that, not with you.

you are surprised by how disheartened he seems.

"we can keep trying." his hand trails along your waist until it sits low on your stomach. you are stunned, you are entirely in disbelief. he gently strokes the flesh while your thoughts are a jumbled mess.

when his gaze meets yours, he smiles. it is too dangerous.

"i hope our baby has your eyes."

i didn't think this would be so long

[sirxlla]

Hi! I got this from your list of prompts which I liked. "They Come Home To You Touching Yourself." with Jon Snow 🤰

Thinking Of Him When He's Not Around

------------------------------------------------

Warnings: SPICY

Prompt: above but I did Jon and Robb 🫶🏻

Notes: female reader, italics are actions and thoughts.

-With that said it's all under the cut-

JON: Jon was nervous when he arrived home to hear whimpers and moans. He readied his sword for whatever horrible possibility his brain was conjuring up. He was worried someone might've tied you up or hurt you. He very slowly walks from room to room, clearing them as he goes.

He quietly enters the room to see just what all the ruckus is about: no intruders, no bad guys, just his you out on the bed with your hand between your thighs and your bottom lip between your lips; Jon's face fills with a smirk.

"You know, if I'd've known how eager you were, I might've hurried just a bit quicker on my way back." Jon says, leaning against the door frame, his smirk only growing wider as your skeleton nearly jumps out of your body. Your heart was now racing, not at the thought of him but slight embarrassment and the sudden nature of him being home.

"I-" You start to think of excuses to excuse your behavior as your mother taught you to never do such things, 'a lady should never think of anything deemed crude or sexual.' Jon notices how much you're starting to panic and kneels on the bed.

"Now, I said nothing of the sort that would mean I wanted you to stop." Jon's grin gets wider as he crawls up between your thighs and pulls you into a deep kiss.

"I swear by the gods you're the most beautiful thing to ever grace the seven kingdoms." He gently guides you back down onto the bed, kissing your neck. He made sure you wouldn't be embarrassed about tonight or any other night. After that your choice to indulge yourself with the idea of him.

ROBB: Robb being a King meant he wasn't around often, so he isn't always there when you wanna fool around, so often times than not, you handle it yourself. Unbeknownst to you, Robb made time to see you; he needed to see you. All of the rules and things going on at the moment were making his head spin and you are the only one who ever helps in times like this.

Robb hears moaning and his heart nearly drops...'Had you found another man? Were you cheating on him? No, you wouldn't....would you?' His eyes widen as he enters the room and realizes what's actually happening; you definitely aren't cheating.

"So this is what you do while I am forced to be King?" He puts down his sword near the doorway, smirks and makes his way over to you

"I just don't wanna bother you with how busy you are." You truly didn't want to cause him anymore stress than he was currently under and in your mind bothering your husband for this when he is already quite busy just seemed uncessesary and mean.

He grabs your ankle and pulls your rear to the edge of the bed before kneeling down in front of the bed. Robb grins up at you as he puts your thighs over his shoulders, his gaze brightly beaming into yours.

"Forgive me, I have been neglecting you, My Queen." He massages your thighs before leaving little kisses up your thighs and towards your core. Robb doesn't usually get time to indulge in you but when he does he makes the most of it which ends up in him having to push his prior tasks to later that next evening.

-> Masterlist

-> Send me prompts if you'd like

[multifandomfanatic02]

"One-Sided, One Receiver"

pairing: alastor x fem!reader

synopsis: Alastor has taken you in under his wing after being mistreated by the vees. Vox tries to confronts you about your feelings for Alastor in hopes that you come back to work for him. His plans of course backfire.

warnings: MDNI fuckin tentacle porn, alastor is fully clothed, no pp for you to see sorry, alastor and his dirty mouth, praise kink ig? fingering

word count: 1.7k words

a/n: my first time writing this kinda thing, please spare me. Also thank you to @rubra-wav for the cute divider omg. and my two favorite in character smut authors @hazelfoureyes (my hazel basil) and @jyoongim giving me the courage to do this ✨️🙏

You've worked with Alastor going on years now. He had taken you under his wing after the treatment you received under the control of the Vees. It was well known they weren't the nicest overlords around but they knew how to sell.

You were Vox's little plaything in more ways than one. He had you pegged to be a pretty good spy and information gatherer. Of course, your mission was always to look for signs of the Radio Demon for his whereabouts. Alastor was very meticulous and every clue left for you was purposely placed, and you knew that. And because you knew that, you never bothered to inform Vox of the very little "information." In which came at a cost of your job and nearly, your life. Vox often underestimated Alastor's smarts. Their own egos constantly bumping each other in the head.

The night you lost your job, you were found outside the Vees' tower, horribly bruised and broken. Hands clutching at the brimstone dirt to try and stable yourself in some way, you saw a pair of black boots standing in front of your face, the demon's cane setting down on the ground.

"Well my dear, it looks like you finally received Vox's boot." He chuckled in amusement and offered a hand to you to help you off the ground. "I'm impressed with how you've gone about finding my little clues, not many have managed to connect them back to me."

With your hand still in his, you two disappear into his shadow and find solitude in a different part of Pentagram City, away from the Vees' territory.

"I have a deal for you. Well rather a job." He states conjuring up a needle and glowing green thread along with a small first-aid kit. He talked his way through his prompt while mending and sewing your wounds. You accepted and that was that.

The years you've worked along side him he's been quite kind to you. Despite not trying to be, he was a charmer. Your feelings for him changed over time. You often caught yourself doing things you never thought you would for the Radio Demon. The man you were convinced to hate in your previous employment. You'd bend over backward for him if you could.

The role he gave you was to do exactly what you had done for Vox in the past. There was never need to leave his side for you to gather whatever information he needed so you never looked suspicious. You looked more like an assistant or an apprentice.

No matter what you looked like you were doing, Vox was deeply displeased. How dare you escape his grasp and go kiss Alastor's ass. It was insulting from both you and the Radio Demon.

There was more to your companionship that meets the eye. While Alastor was an oblivious man, Vox saw right through you. It was clear to him you had fallen in love with the radio demon. And with the way Alastor has reacted to confessions in the past, the TV man knew exactly how to ruin your relationship with each other and potentially along with the contract that was signed.

Checkmate.

"What are you doing here, old pal. Don't you think you are on the wrong side of town." Alastor's body was facing away, Vox's presence clear from his heavy breathing. His attempt to stay calm and collected.

"I am here to offer Y/N's job back." He stood up straight, folding his arms behind his back and turning his unfazed gaze to you. "I'm willing to raise your pay by a substantial amount if you come back to me."

"Not a chance, Vox. After the way you and the other Vees treated me? Go to double Hell." You spat at him, your eyes full of disgust and turning your body away from him.

Vox's smile creeped further up the screen, wholeheartedly expecting that to be your answer. The wrong answer. The one to ruin you once again.

"You come back to work for me and I won't tell Alastor your dark little secret. You get to stay in his good graces and I get my favorite little employee." He held his hand out to you. Alastor's silence completely deafening as he zones in on the strange conversation. What could you possibly do to fall out of his good graces, he thought.

Your expression faltering slightly before returning to it's stability. Was it that obvious? Did everyone see your feelings like an open book? He was unfortunately right.. if Alastor knew how you felt he'd probably ditch for another 7 years. Either way the outcome of this would be you trapped in the hands of the Vees once more. "You're confused Vox. I think you should take a break from all that porn."

"Do not pretend to not know what I'm talki-"

"I think I've heard enough, Vox. If you are referring to her romantic feelings towards me, there's no need to inform me. I already know." Alastor finally stepped out from behind you to stand in between the two of you. "The only difference here is that she has not forced those feelings upon me in which I quite respect. She will not be going with you."

Alastor tapped his cane on your back to turn you around and continue your walk. You give one last glance at Vox behind you, his face obviously fuming in embarrassment before disappearing into Alastor's shadow with him and reappearing in front of the Hotel.

You two stood in front of the doors in silence. Not really awkward just a little stunned.

"Sir.. you knew?" Your head was looking down to his shoes, scared to look him in the eyes.

"Dear, do not be embarrassed." He placed his cane under your chin, watching your eyes shift from the ground to his own. "I'm willing to make another deal with you if you allow it. This will be a one time thing. One night of your pleasure and you will give me your soul. Your services will belong to me for the rest of your immortal life."

Not to long after that were you in his radio tower. His shadowy appendages wrapped around your ankles and wrists, your ass resting on the buttons of his desk. You were already in the nude and he still sharply dressed. "Let's get a few things clear, darling. You will not touch me whatsoever, no I will not remove my clothing-" He spoke in the midst of taking his coat off and hanging it up on the hook to the side of the desk. He carefully rolled up the sleeves to his dress shirt before turning his attention to you, continuing his sentence. "and do remember to make noise. I need this to be amusing for me as well."

The appendages snaked up your thighs, softly maneuvering themselves through your folds. Spreading your slick everywhere they could reach. Your shut eyes tightened underneath his delicate touch. Another pair of his tentacles made their way up to your face, pulling at the sides of your mouth, making you open your lips. One slipped inside your wet cavern, lapping up the saliva around your tongue. Moans now starting to slip out as it started to fuck your mouth, spit dripping down the corners of your lips.

"Now that's my good girl." Alastor's cold digits made their way to your clit, rubbing in rhythmic circles, eliciting a well earned gasp from your throat. Not rough enough to jump start an orgasm but enough to be quite pleasurable on it's own. What pretty sounds he thought. Your legs tensed at his praise, his voice. It was deeper and more staticy than normal. Seemed he was enjoying himself more than he'd like to admit.

Removing the tentacle in your mouth, he replaced it with his own mouth. Your heart fluttered at the way he moved his lips against yours. Not exactly how you fantasized your first kiss with the Radio Demon but you'll take it. You groaned into his lips, grinding your hips into his steady going fingers. "Alastor.. please. I need you inside me." Heavy breaths passed between each word that escaped your mouth. This was your part of the deal so he was willing to give you whatever you wanted. Within reason of course.

The extremity wet with your juices slid up and down your cunt, spreading you as much as possible before slipping into you with ease. It wasn't his dick but dear god did it feel good nonetheless. Some boundaries had to be made after all but you were grateful for his generosity no matter what he offered. It's pace started off slow, simply trying to make it's way to your cervix before anything else. His lips still continuing to massage yours, going back and forth between licking your neck and kisses.

He was making every piece of your body vibrate with excitement and pleasure. Alastor's pace speeding up once he finally hit the end of your vagina, nearly making love to your cervix. His fingers began to abuse your now sensitive clit. It didn't take long before that long awaited tightness started to form in your womb. Your breath hitched and various parts of your body twitched, letting him know that you were approaching your end. "Are you going to cum for me, my dear? My precious apprentice."

With one last bite to your shoulder, you came undone on his tentacle and fingers. Continuing to rub you through your high. Your head rested against his shoulder allowing you to control your breaths back to normal. All his dark restraints dissipated, letting you free.

Alastor licked his fingers clean and rolled his sleeves back down, grabbing the coat he hung up and placing it back onto his shoulders. "Now I do believe you need a bath. Feel free to use the one in my room. Be back down stairs in an hour, we've got business to attend to later."

And with that, you now belonged to him in heart and soul.

[beckyninja]

Reckoning

Pairing: Demetrian Titus x FemOC

Warnings: Flogging, nonconsensual touching, violence. Be warned, this one gets dark.

Description: Sera continues to endure her own personal hell at Leandros' hands. But, thanks to Vesta, his depravity is being brought to light. Can she get the evidence she's collected into the right hands before it's too late?

Things are coming to a head, folks! Find the previous parts of this story on my Masterlist. Comment if you'd like to be added to/removed from the Taglist. And, remember, my Asks and DMs are always open!

Crack!

You couldn’t scream any longer. Not even as a fresh wave of agony ripped across your lower back. Your voice gave out long ago.

Crack!

Your knees buckled and you hung from the shackles binding your wrists above your head. Darkness encroached on the edges of your vision. You welcomed it, the sweet promise of oblivion. 

Please, Emperor… please….

Then an iron hand grasped your chin, yanking your head up and back until you stared into a face of stone. 

No, not stone….

Though the craggy features remained fixed in a contemptuous scowl, something flickered in the dark eyes. Something horribly alive. Sweat beaded amidst stubble on the upper lip and a tongue flicked out to lap it away. Rank breath washed over your face.

Your foggy mind fought to comprehend.

His helmet… gone….

He let you see his face. A raspy whimper welled up from your sore throat and you squeezed your eyes shut.

“No….”

“No?” Somehow, his voice terrified you more without his helmet’s distortion. “Still you resist the Emperor… resist me….”

He trailed off, his voice thick and intermingled with heavy breaths, like the panting of a beast. Dimly, you recognized the tone. The heat behind it. Fighting to regain your footing, you shied away from the animal behind you, pressing against the wall of your cell. The shock of cold metal against your bare front brought clarity.

Horrifying clarity.

“No!”

The fingers released your chin, allowing your head to fall forward. But the hand stayed. It crept slowly downward as you tried and failed to twist away, the shackles biting into your wrists. 

Your throat.

Your pounding heart.

Your-

“Ah!”

Fingers closed over your breasts with bruising force. They squeezed, and you yelped again. You’d thought you had no more tears to shed.

You’d been wrong.

Your mind drifted, desperate to distance you from the horror. It conjured images, feelings of different hands. Strong, scarred, warm hands. Hands that cupped and caressed with gentleness bordering on reverence. 

A voice. “Say my name.”

“Dem… Demetrian-”

“NO.”

Crack!

The agony resumed. And, with each blow, something in your mind frayed.

***

Crack!

Vesta clasped both hands over her mouth, tears streaming down her cheeks. She crouched in the shadow of a pillar in the hazy, incense-filled dimness of the Chaplain’s inner quarters. The cleaning serf’s robe she wore enveloped her in a cloud of heavy, rough fabric, obscuring her form further.

She hoped.

The haggard old serf had looked at her with disbelief when she asked to take his place in the Chapel cleaning crew. His eyes had widened when she offered a salve for aching joints in return for his robe and supply bucket. He’d asked no questions, but given a single warning.

“Don’t catch his eye.”

Now, shivering behind the pillar, Vesta understood why. She understood the pitying glances given by the other serfs in the crew when she joined them. Understood their silence, the way their eyes darted around the great chamber as they worked, like prey animals when they knew a predator lurked nearby. 

They’d made no sound when she slowly edged her way toward the door at the rear of the Chapel. The door leading to the Chaplain’s private quarters. 

She’d had a moment, then. As she stood before the forbidding portal, heart nearly bursting from her ribcage. A moment of stark realization.

Surely the door was locked. Surely this was all for nothing. Surely she’d be caught.

And, if so, she could expect no mercy.

Her courage had failed then. She’d turned away, shoulders slumped in defeat.

Then, a cry. Faint through the thick door, but Vesta knew it.

Sera.

The door hadn’t been locked. A testament to its owner's supreme arrogance, perhaps. And now, Vesta trembled in the shadows, biting into her knuckles until she tasted blood, as she watched her friend at the mercy of a monster.

Crack!

Eyes blurred with moisture, hands shaking, it took her several tries to pry open the supply bucket and remove its secret contents.

An old servo skull. Yellowed and cracked, its anti-grav repulsors long gone, but its mechanical eyes still glowing red. It awakened with an almost plaintive buzz. Vesta turned its worn face toward the scene of horror, even as she closed her eyes tight.

A whisper, a command, barely breathed.

“Record.”

Hold on, Sera. Just a little longer!

***

“This is foolish.” Chairon growled.

He paced the corridor, boots pounding the metal flooring. His fingers flexed inside his gauntlets, itching for a weapon.

Gadriel, standing at perfect parade-rest a few feet off, watched him. “I agree. But what choice do we have?”

Chairon glared at him. “I cannot believe sending the little medica into the lion’s den was the only option.”

“It was her idea.”

“She will be caught!”

“You would have preferred to charge in, bolters blazing?”

“YES!”

His roar surprised even him, and caused Gadriel to arch an eyebrow. Chairon avoided his brother’s searching gaze and resumed pacing.

I ache for the plight of the Lieutenant’s serf girl. But the thought of Vesta in danger….

The sheer fury of his reaction confused him. So he pushed it away.

“Where did you find that half-dead servo skull?”

Gadriel blinked. “Magos Galeo was surprisingly sympathetic.”

Chairon huffed. “The Magos did seem… friendly to the Lieutenant.”

“He has always been a rarity among tech priests.”

“No, brother. This familiarity went beyond his usual amiable temperament.” Chairon halted mid-step, turning to face his Sergeant. “The Magos has been installed aboard this ship for centuries, yes?”

Gadriel’s gaze sharpened. “Long enough to remember a former Captain.”

“And any interactions he may have had with a young brother destined to become a Chaplain.” Chairon spun on his heel. “To the armory!”

“You two!”

The resounding growl stopped both Ultramarines in their tracks. Apothecary Callistus stomped up to them, habitual scowl even darker than usual. Chairon suddenly felt like a young neophyte caught out of the barracks after lights out. 

The Apothecary glowered. “Well?”

Gadriel cleared his throat. “Brother-Apothecary, I do not-”

“Where is she?”

Chairon tried next. “Who do you-”

The veteran whirled on him so quickly his armor joints screeched. “Do not attempt dishonesty, boy. What have you done with my medica?”

Unease settled in Chairon’s stomach. “She is aiding us in providing succour to the Lieutenant’s serf.”

Callistus closed his eyes, breathing heavily through his nose. “So. It was an abduction.”

“Yes.”

“Who dared breach my Apothecary and abscond with a patient under my care?”

Chairon listened with growing discomfort as Gadriel explained their suspicions, their fragile evidence, and Vesta’s plan. The last part sent the Apothecary into a paroxysm of rage.

“She did WHAT?!”

The roar echoed to the high ceilings. A passing cherub shorted out in a shower of sparks, plummeting to the floor with a crunch. A trio of tech adepts hiked their robes and sprinted back the way they had come. Apothecary Callistus shoved past Chairon and Gadriel.

Chairon pressed close behind. “What-”

“I am getting my niece out of there.” Came the snarled reply. “Emperor help the Chaplain should he try to stop me.”

Chairon grinned without mirth. Gadriel groaned. The three of them all but sprinted the short distance to the Chapel, drawing concerned glances from Ultramarine and baseline alike. They finally reached the great, gilded doors.

And saw a small group of serfs huddled around a crumpled figure on the floor. A figure in a robe far too large for her.

The metallic tang of human blood filled Chairon’s nostrils.

***

A few minutes earlier

Vesta held the recording servo skull until the sound of whip striking flesh suddenly ceased. She opened her teary eyes to see the Chaplain, head bare, standing like a ceramite statue. All had gone silent, save for his deep, heaving breaths.

Faster than her eye could follow, he turned.

Vesta sank to the base of the pillar, clutching the skull to her chest.

Oh, Emperor! He knows I’m here. He sees me. He hears me.

But his eyes never focused on her. As he exited the cell, they never focused on anything. Staring. Wild. With an expression that made everything female in her cringe. He walked straight past her hiding spot, whip still clenched in his hand, and out of the chamber.

Vesta remained crouched against the pillar for a long while, in disbelief. Then, slowly, she rose. The servo skull went back into the supply bucket with a mechanical whine. 

“Thank you.” She whispered to it.

She should go. She had her evidence. That was the plan.

But her eyes remained fixed on the cell. On the figure no longer shackled to the wall, but collapsed on the floor. Her feet walked forward almost on their own. Fresh tears flowed down her cheeks when she reached the barred door.

“Oh, Sera….”

She’d been stripped naked. Angry welts covered her back from neck to thighs. Blood trickled from deep abrasions around her wrists, on her knees, and the bottoms of her feet. Her rich brown hair, once so luscious, hung in matted tangles over her face. 

And, everywhere, bruises. In every shape and color.

Vesta wept. Falling to her knees, she pressed her arm up to the shoulder through the bars, straining. Her fingers barely brushed a limp hand.

“Sera!”

No response. Only the slightest rise of her chest told the medica her friend was still alive.

“I’m so sorry, Sera. I should have listened. We all should have listened!” Vesta ran her fingers over the tiny bit of skin she could reach. “Why? Why is he doing this?” 

A murmur. So soft, she almost thought she imagined it.

“Dem… Deme….”

Sera pressed her body against the bars. “What? What are you trying to say?”

A long silence.

“Titus….”

“Your Lord? Yes, Sera, I know. I’m sure he’ll be back soon!”

“Accu… accused him….”

“The Lieutenant accused someone? Who? The Chaplain?”

“N…nn… Chap… accu….”

“The Chaplain… accused… the Lieutenant?”

A long sigh. Then, nothing.

“Sera? Sera!”

A sound. Vesta jerked upright, eyes searching the incense-fogged shadows. Fear prickled down her spine. She pressed her fingertips to her friend’s hand one last time.

“I have to go now.” She whispered. “But I’ll be back. We’ll be back, Sera! Please, just stay alive.”

It tore something in her to move away. But she did. She fled the chamber of horrors, back through the door, into the candlelit sanctuary of the Chapel. Looking around, she wondered if she’d ever be able to feel the Emperor’s peace in this place again. She didn’t see the other cleaning serfs. 

How long was I-

“You.”

Her heart stopped. Turning slowly, she stared at the ceramite boots of the Monster wearing a Chaplain’s helm. She dropped to her knees in feigned piety, crossing her hands in the sign of the aquila, praying desperately her robe’s voluminous hood concealed her face.

“The others worked with efficiency. But, you.” Darkness dripped from each word. “Slothful.”

Her tongue cleaved to the roof of her mouth.

Just let me go… please… please!

“Let this be a lesson.”

She never saw the kick coming. She was flying through the air. Time seemed to have slowed down, her medica’s mind analyzing even as the floor rushed up to meet her.

Shattered ribs. Blood in the mouth. Pierced lung?

Then she hit. And the world exploded in agony. She thought she heard startled cries. Felt hands pulling her.

One last thought struck her before darkness closed in.

The servo skull. Where is the servo skull?

***

Decks away, a Thunderhawk roared into the hangar of the Resilient. It’s ramp lowered. And a titan in Ultramarine-blue armor stepped forth. Light reflected from the laurels embedded on either side of his helm.

A few Ultramarines looked his way, helmets hiding their shocked expressions. Rumors had exploded in his absence. A suicide mission. A glorious end, the Chaplain had said.

But Demetrian Titus had returned.

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[writing-intheundercroft]

Falling Hard

Summary: A story about how Garreth fell first (literally and figuratively).

Word Count: 5,416

Rating: T (boner alert, but that’s about it)

A/N: Thank you to @cuffmeinblack and @ellivenollivander for arranging @garrethweasleyfest!! And a special thank you to whoever submitted banana peel as a prompt lmao

Read on AO3

Garreth Weasley laid flat out in the center of the Great Hall, staring at the candle lit ceiling. He could hear laughter echoing around him, and a sharp pain radiating through the lower half of his back. Garreth shut his eyes tightly, wishing he was anywhere but the middle of his school dining hall, spread-eagle with banana pith on his heels.

He supposed he deserved this, after all.

And then, Garreth felt her hands cupping his cheeks, the soft pads of her fingers brushing his chin. When he opened his eyes, he blinked heavily, her face hovering over his. Wisps of her hair brushed his skin as she leaned over him, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

Okay, he would survive this. Especially if it meant being in this close of proximity to her.

“You’re an idiot, Garreth.” She shook her head, staring down at him with wide eyes.

He smiled up at her, blinking to clear his eyes. She was kneeling, hands flat on the ground at both sides of his face. He could smell her, the faint hint of mallowsweet lingering over her distinctive perfume. If he craned his neck up, he could probably kiss her—

“Yeowch,” Garreth groaned, a sharp pain crackling through his head like lightning. The sensation was enough to drive him back down to the ground, grasping at the flagstone floor. She shifted her hand, this time to cup the back of his head. He heard her inhale sharply, examining reddened fingertips.

”Is that blood?” He asked weakly.

Leander scampered forward, gasping when he saw his best mate’s current state. She was frozen at his side, fresh blood dripping down her hand.

“Somebody call Blainey!”

It sounded like Natty. Leander sat at his side, bracing Garreth’s head in place. He tried to move, to pry himself from the other redhead’s grasp, but the sharp pain returned. Someone was saying something to the effect of conjuring towels, and he saw her sit up, the offending yellow culprit in hand.

Fuck bananas, Garreth thought. Horrible stringy fruit. Who even liked bananas anyways?

She did. She’d always bounce over from her table, snatching a banana from the fruit bowl closest to him. She’d smile, say good morning, and that interaction would make his entire day.

”Garreth,” he heard her voice. He tried to crane his neck upwards again, but the ringing continued in his ear.

And then he passed out.

“I can’t believe you,” Aunt Matilda huffed. “Seriously Garreth, cracking your skull a week before graduation. Your mother will have my head.”

”I’m sorry,” Garreth repeated for the umpteenth time, wincing as Blainey wrapped another bandage around his noggin, flattening down his red hair. It was late afternoon already, and he’d missed the majority of his classes. With exams on the horizon, few of his friends had the free time to sit by his side. Therein, he was sequestered to his hospital wing bed with only his aunt for company.

“Garreth, you’re nearly a grown man and I still have to mind your behavior.” his aunt snapped. “How can an employer take you seriously when you’re still acting like a third year? Let alone a woman—“

”I get it, Aunt Tilly,” Garreth grumbled. “I have to wisen up.”

His Aunt Matilda’s face softened, lips pursed as she gave him a flat lipped smile. “I know the final days of term can be stressful. I just don’t want to see your talent wasted on trying to be remembered as a goofball.”

Garreth wasn’t trying for anything in particular—in fact, his stunt in the Great Hall had been an attempt to get everyone to forget what he’d blurted out in the heat of the moment.

Someone cleared their throat; Garreth and his aunt turned their heads to see Nurse Blainey standing next to the fabric partition.

“Visitors for Mr. Weasley,” she announced, gesturing to the now visible doorway.

”Oh thank Merlin,” Garreth wheezed, sitting up. He smiled weakly at Natty and Leander, who were walking into the hospital wing with his textbooks and assignments in their arms.

”Sorry it took us so long,” Natty said apologetically. “Had a double potions session with Sharp.” She dumped Garreth’s book bag onto the bed, books and papers spilling out the top.

”Thank you for bringing his homework,” Aunt Matilda said kindly. She redirected her attention back down to Garreth, eyes narrowing. “Now, don’t get into any more mischief, young man. I’ll be back in the morning.”

”Yes, Aunt Tilly.” Garreth said dully, crossing his arms. Natty and Leander watched the deputy headmistress walk out of the hospital wing, disappearing down the stairs.

”How do you feel?” Leander asked, pulling up a chair. Natty sat at the end of the bed, rearranging his book bag.

”Like shit,” Garreth grumbled, rubbing his head. “Cracked my skull, remember?”

“While skele-grow works wonders, I’m sure it can’t taste all that good.” Natty winced, shivering at the thought. “What did it taste like?”

”Chalk,” Garreth tapped his chin. “Think I blacked out all over again while taking it.”

Leander snorted, opening his own book bag to deliver a pumpkin pasty wrapped in a napkin. “I know the hospital wing food is tragic, don’t eat it all in one go.”

”What’s the damage then?” Garreth asked, swiping the pasty from Leander’s outstretched hand. He took a big bite, chewing thoughtful as his eyes flitted between his two friends.

”It’s fine—“

”Awful, mate.”

Leander and Natty shared similar sharp glances at one another.

“Alrighty then,” Garreth wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Give me the play by play, what people are saying.”

”Well,” Natty said hesitantly, playing with the end of one of her braids. “People are saying you’ve…er, gone a bit mad.”

”Me?” Garreth balked. “Gone mad? Over a banana?”

”It’s not just the banana.” Natty sighed. “It’s how you were speaking to her.”

”To her?” Garreth posed the question, still confused.

”Well, you sort of shouted at her.” Leander said slowly.

”I did not shout at her,” Garreth retorted.

Natty winced. “Yeah, afraid you did.”

Garreth blinked, trying to remember exactly what had happened at breakfast that morning. “I…I shouted at her?”

”She came over to the table to take a banana, like she always does.” Leander recounted. “And you asked her to sit with us. She just about did—“

”Until Sallow yelled at her to come back and sit with him and Ominis.” Natty finished his sentence. “You kind of lost the plot then.”

”I don’t remember this at all,” Garreth groaned.

”I think that’s for the best.” Natty said reassuringly, patting his hand.

“No, tell me more.” Garreth beckoned them forward. “Tell me how bad it was.”

”You sort of…well, you got into it with Sallow, told him off for interrupting you. And you both stood up at the front of the table, got in each other’s faces. And then, Sebastian yelled—“

This part Garreth remembered. It came back to him like a punch to the gut.

It’s almost like you’re in love with her, Weasley.

“Fuck,” Garreth swore. “I told everyone I was in love with her.”

Leander and Natty shared a painful glance with one another. “Just about. I mean, really, you were screaming it, so I’m not sure everyone truly understood.” Natty offered.

Leander scoffed. “It was pretty easy to put two and two together, Nat.”

Garreth buried his face in his hands as the memory formed in his head. Completely red in the face at Sebastian’s remark, he stared at the Slytherin with balled up fists. Garreth had stepped up, puffing his chest out as he blurted out his confession.

Maybe I am, he’d shrieked. IkindofsortofamkindofinlovewithherandI’vebeeninlovewithhereversinceourfifthyear.

”Merlin’s saggy tits,” Garreth muttered, hanging his head low. “I need to move continents.”

“I’m sure it’ll blow over,” Natty assured him. “It’s the last week of school, everyone who didn’t hear you will just assume you had—“

”A mental break?” Leander interjected. “That’s plausible. What’s not plausible is the fact that he decided to throw a bloody banana peel and crack his own skull open.”

“It was for comedic effect,” Garreth argued. “To uh, deflect the problem at hand.”

”Joke went out the window when everyone saw your blood on the floor.” Leander pointed out.

Garreth slumped in his bed, a hand flying up to adjust the gauze bandage around his head. He opened his mouth, shutting it rapidly as he tried to form his next thought without making his brain explode.

”It seemed like the best possible plan at the time.” He said miserably.

”It was funny at first.” Natty shrugged. “Don’t dwell on it, Garreth. Peeves has already stopped singing about it.”

Garreth ripped his pillow out from behind him, screaming into the feathered cushion.

”I told you we shouldn’t tell him that part.” Leander muttered.

Hogwarts was known for its decadent meals, but that service didn’t seem to translate up to the food offered in the hospital wing. It was nearly eleven o’clock at night and Garreth was still playing with his spoon, dragging it back and forth the cold, half-empty bowl of chicken broth a house elf had brought in for him. He wished he hadn’t been so quick to finish the pasties Leander had smuggled in for him.

“You should eat, Mr. Weasley.” Nurse Blainey clucked. The school nurse was clad in her pajamas, hair set in curlers as she prepared for bed. “Your bones will heal faster if you’re properly nourished.”

”Not much nourishment in this soup,” Garreth wrinkled his nose.

Blainey ignored his complaints, instead brushing the edge of her robe. “Now, it’s lights out, Mr. Weasley. I’ll leave you with your tray, but otherwise you should get your rest. I’ll be in my office; should you need me, just ring the bell.”

Blainey disappeared behind the partition; Garreth could see the outline of her walking back to her office, waving her wand to dim the lights. The door clicked shut, and all that was left in the hospital wing was poor old Garreth and his bowl of cold broth. He winced as he shifted in the creaky bed, setting the tray down on the bedside table. If he was going to be stuck here all night, he might as well get a good night’s rest before facing ridicule from the entire student body.

”It’s only one more week,” Garreth mumbled to himself, pulling the woolen blanket up to his chin. A singular week separated him from graduation. In seven days, he’d be a free man. Free to explore the world, to finally start the research on his potion ingredient almanac the way he’d planned on doing his entire school career.

A week before he’d likely never see her again.

Garreth turned on to his side, groaning. Perhaps that was for the best, he thought. He probably frightened her. That, or at least made her think he was completely off his rocker. Who in the right mind would shout their undying love, followed by trying to annihilate oneself with a banana peel?

Fuck, he’d never live it down. The ghosts would tell stories of his tragedy for years to come.

Besides, it wasn’t as if she’d responded. If she had understood his ramblings (which Leander had confirmed to be an unmistakable declaration of love), she hadn’t visited him in the hospital wing at all during the day. He’d been optimistic earlier, after Natty and Leander left for supper. But with every passing hour, Garreth lost a little bit of hope that his affections might be returned.

How could she love him, he thought. They were friends, that’s all. It was his own fault he’d taken the bait from Sallow, who’d given him that annoyingly smug face at the breakfast table.

Garreth was so lost in his thoughts that he did not notice the footsteps, or the creak of the partitions being moved. He only became aware of a second body in the hospital wing when the mattress dipped. He furrowed his brow as he looked over his shoulder, blinking at nothing.

”What the?” He grumbled, sitting up.

“Revelio,” a familiar voice muttered.

“Bloody hell,” Garreth gasped. He clutched his heart, as if it were going to beat right out of his chest at the sight of his crush materializing out of thin air at the edge of his bed.

She smiled at him, wild hair flying around her face as she dropped her wand onto the blanket. “Hi.” She whispered, nudging his legs. “Scoot over.”

”What are you doing here?” Garreth whispered, eyes wide.

Figured you could use some company.” She said nonchalantly, smoothing out the edge of her dressing gown. “And some snacks—the hospital wing food is atrocious from what I can remember.” She reached down to her little purse, undoing the flap. Garreth stared at her in confusion as she shoved her arm down to the elbow.

”Undetectable extension charm,” she murmured, pulling her arm back out to reveal a tin can. “Here, eat this.”

Garreth looked down at the tin, which she’d placed in his hands. Banana flavored candies from Zonko’s.

“What are you doing here?” Garreth repeated, peering up at her through his copper lashes.

She gave him a funny look. “I’m here to see you, silly.”

”But why now?” Garreth insisted. “You had all day.”

”Excuse me, I had a full diary today. I wasn’t factoring a trip to the hospital wing in the schedule.” She scoffed, handing him a chocolate bar from Zonko’s. “Classes, studying for NEWTs, some errands for a few folks in the highlands, checking in on the shop.” She herself opened a tin of licorice, tipping it his way as an offering. “The usual.”

Garreth gladly took a piece. “You do too much, you know.” He pointed out, followed by a big bite. “I have no idea how you manage.”

She shrugged, playing with the edge of the blanket. “I just want to be helpful while I’m still around the highlands. Who on earth is going to help these villagers with all their tasks when I’m gone?”

Garreth chuckled, shaking his head. “You do too much.”

She chewed on the candy, eyes twinkling. “I know I do.”

”And you should probably be sleeping,” Garreth pointed out. He looked at the clock on his bedside table. “Merlin’s beard, it’s nearly midnight. You’ll be exhausted tomorrow.”

She swallowed thickly. “I just wanted to see that you’re okay.”

Garreth felt his face heat up in a blush. “I’m fine,” he sighed exasperatedly. “Just a bump.”

She raised her brow. “A bump? Garreth, you were in a puddle of your own blood.”

”My own fault.” Garreth pointed out. “As everyone has reminded me.”

She shook her head, fighting a laugh. “Garreth Weasley, only you would try to take yourself out with a banana peel the week before graduation.”

”It’s pathetic.” Garreth wrinkled his nose.

”It’s hilarious,” she said sternly, wagging a finger in his face. “But I must plead with you to be more careful with yourself.”

Garreth chewed his bottom lip, avoiding her gaze. He instead focused on the woven pattern of the blanket, pulling on the frayed edge. “I thought I might have scared you.”

She tilted her head. “Scared me? How so?”

“Because I said some things…perhaps I screamed them at you, I don’t quite remember.”

Her face softened, and she tilted his chin up to look at her. “Sebastian can be cruel sometimes, I don’t want you to take it to heart. He felt awful, you know. I gave him a proper scolding afterwards. He didn’t mean to egg you on like that.”

She’d completely glazed over the confession, Garreth noted. A clear sign of her feelings towards him. Just friends, that’s all they were. They’d been friends since she arrived at the beginning of fifth year—she’d been the only person brave enough to sneak into Sharp’s office to get him a fwooper feather, and then she’d boldly traversed the One Eyed Witch passage to gather him some billywig stings. Letters exchanged over the summer holidays, stolen glances across the cauldron from one another in Sharp’s seventh year seminar. He’d memorized the sound of her laugh from all their shared classes, always endeavoring to make her giggle at least once every lesson. And for the last year, she’d volunteer to be his partner every night in Astronomy, shivering together as they charted their stars.

But, there was Sebastian.

Garreth had nothing against the chap, except for the fact that he was a Slytherin. In fact, he and Sebastian had quite a jovial acquaintanceship going before she arrived. But as soon as they’d returned for their sixth year, things seemed to change. Sebastian was more withdrawn, keeping to himself more than ever after his uncle’s death. And she stayed at his side, always fussing over him at meals or passing notes with him during study periods. It was the kind of treatment one would reserve for a loved one, an intimacy Garreth could never seem to cross with her.

Sebastian always hogged her, especially at meal times. She only ever left his side at breakfast to get her daily fruit from the Gryffindor table, exchanging pleasantries and a kind smile with Garreth in exchange. If he were lucky, they’d have time for a cup of tea between classes. On even luckier days, he might catch her walking home from Hogsmeade, electing to take the long way home just to hear her speak.

Even if she was taken, his crush on her grew stronger, made even more alluring by how unattainable she was.

”It was stupid of me,” Garreth mumbled, pinching the blanket. “To say all that in front of your boyfriend.”

She wrinkled her nose. “My boyfriend?”

”Yeah,” Garreth sighed. “Sebastian.”

Her eyes softened once more, and she took her hand in his.

”Garreth,” she said carefully. “Sebastian and I—we’re not together.”

Garreth looked up at her in confusion. “You’re not?”

”He’s just my best friend,” she murmured. “He’s had it tough the last two years, and perhaps I’ve babied him a bit too much. But trust me when I say there is absolutely nothing between us. He’s like a brother to me, Gar.”

”A brother,” Garreth repeated.

”A brother who is very protective of me,” she chewed on her lower lip. “Especially around a boy who might like me.”

“Yeah,” Garreth breathed in sharply. “A boy who might like you very much.”

She started to trace a circle in the palm of his hand. “And if I’m to believe the confession he gave at breakfast this morning, a boy who might love me.”

Garreth gave her a weak smile. “It’s stupid, I know. We’ve hardly had time together, let alone to properly…uh, properly grow those feelings. But it’s true.”

”It’s not stupid.” She shook her head. “Not when I feel the same way.”

Garreth sat up straighter, sucking in sharply when he felt his head ringing. At this point he wasn’t sure if it was the wound or the blood pounding in his head from her own confession.

“You should lay down,” she said, coaxing him back into the bed. “I’ll lay next to you, okay?”

Garreth scooted over to the edge, letting her slip under the covers next to him. He felt as if he was dreaming—his wildest dreams coming true, having the object of his affections curled up into him a week before graduation? He pinched himself as they shuffled on the small bed frame, getting closer.

“You like me,” Garreth said slowly as the top sheet fell over their heads.

”I like you,” she affirmed. “Have for a while, actually.”

”Since when?” Garreth asked, feeling his heart drop into his stomach.

”Since the party at the end of fifth year,” she confessed. “When you let me try fizzing whizzbeer. You…uh, you put your arm around me and kissed me on the cheek. Said you couldn’t have done it without me.” Her face was pink, flushed from her own confession.

“Merlin, I’m an idiot.” Garreth groaned.

”Just a bit,” she snorted. “I tried to drop so many signs. Why else did you think I wanted to be your partner all the time in Astronomy?”

”Because I’m good at Astronomy?”

“Garreth, you’re terrible at it.” She chuckled. “I kept trying to cuddle up with you, but you were always speeding to get the star charts done as fast as possible so we could go to bed. I thought—I mean, I took that as a sign you weren’t interested.”

Garreth’s eyes widened. “That was why you kept wearing such thin cloaks to class?”

”I wanted you to put your arm around me.” She retorted.

Garreth tilted his head, putting two and two together. Now it made sense why she was always shivering, backing into him as they took their evening class. She’d once stepped right between his legs, her backside pressed right against—

Shit. He was an idiot.

”We’re bad at this flirting thing, aren’t we?” She tilted her head.

”Awful at it,” he moaned. He lifted his hand, letting it rest on her hip. She seemed to like it, melting into his touch.

”Sebastian was getting so frustrated hearing me whine about you.” She murmured. “I think that’s why he was pushing you so hard this morning. I think he and Ominis had a bet you’d say something before graduation, and Seb didn’t want to lose his galleons.”

”I’ll have to thank Sallow then,” Garreth pointed out. “For helping me across the finish line.”

“You shouldn’t, his head can’t stand to get any bigger than it already is.” She chuckled. Garreth could feel her breath on his cheeks, and his eyes fluttered at the sensation.

”So, you like me.” Garreth repeated. It felt like a mantra he had to repeat over and over again, lest it not be true.

”And you love me.” She said coyly, lifting her hand to touch his cheeks. When her finger brushed against his lips, he pressed a tentative kiss against them. ”You love me enough to save me a banana every morning.”

”It sounds silly, doesn’t it?” Garreth murmured, his grip tightening on her waist. She shifted closer to him, legs tangling between his.

She looked up at him, eyelashes fluttering as the hand on his cheek drifted upwards to touch the bandage around his head.

“Does it hurt?” She asked.

Garreth shook his head a little. “Just a scratch.”

“That’s a shame,” she pouted. “I was hoping to help you feel better.”

“Oh no,” Garreth blinked heavily. “Oh, it’s actually so painful.”

She smirked, rolling her eyes. “Does it now?”

”So painful,” Garreth groaned, feigning dramatics. “I don’t know how I’ll ever carry on.”

Her hand snaked around his head, fingers threading through his copper hair. She scratched his scalp, and Garreth leaned into her touch in return.

“I’ll make it better,” she said coyly, nose brushing against his.

Garreth had kissed other girls before, but nothing could have prepared him for the feeling of kissing her. He just about moaned into her mouth when her lips touched his, melting into her touch. He immediately tried to roll over, to cage her underneath him against the mattress, but his body had other ideas.

”I can’t—“ Garreth huffed through gritted teeth, “roll over.”

She let out a breathy laugh in exchange. “Let me, then.” Her voice was low as she swung her leg over his lap, straddling him in his pajamas. She pulled the thin sheet over them, just the two of them under a cotton canopy. Garreth swore under his breath as she leaned over him, hair tickling his chin.

“Is that better?” She whispered.

Garreth grinned against her lips, his nose brushing against hers. “This just might heal me,” he murmured, arms circling around her waist to bring her in tight. She hummed approvingly when he nipped her lower lip, delicately licking into her mouth. Everything was new, yet it felt so right—every kiss she returned was just an affirmation that she felt the same way. She liked that he was silly. She liked that he was loud. She liked the way he saved her a banana in the morning, the way he’d lean his body against hers during the cold nights in the astronomy tower—

Maybe one day she might love him too.

The sheet went flying, exposing both of them to the cold hospital wing. Garreth blinked rapidly to adjust his eyes to the darkness; instead, Nurse Blainey materialized, holding a lamp with the world’s largest frown on her face.

”Young lady,” Blainey hissed. “What in Merlin’s name do you think you’re doing?”

She quickly hopped off Garreth’s lap, taking the sheet with her as she slid off the bed. Garreth squeaked indignantly as the warmth of her body disappeared, pulling one of the pillows to hide the rather obvious erection she’d left him with. His partner in crime adjusted her dressing gown, giving Blainey an awkward smile as she patted down her hair.

”I just wanted to check in on Garreth, that’s all.” She said smoothly.

“And you thought it appropriate to crawl into his bed?” Blainey snapped.

She winced, scratching the back of her head. “I wanted to see if his bandage was still alright?”

“Nice try.” Blainey rolled her eyes. “You’re very lucky the two of you are of age, otherwise I’d have to call your aunt in, Mr. Weasley.”

”Oh come on,” Garreth whined. “It’s just a week before we graduate—“

”And I certainly don’t feel like filling out any detention paperwork at this hour.” Blainey hissed. “You, go back to your dormitory straight away. And Mr. Weasley, if you do not rest—“

”Right, right,” Garreth grumbled, sinking back into his mattress. “It won’t heal properly, and I’ll be stuck here longer.”

Garreth wanted to protest as she balled up the bedsheet, tossing it back into his lap. She gave him a sheepish smile, grabbing her wand from the stone floor. “Er, I’ll see you tomorrow morning, okay?”

“Breakfast?” Garreth asked hopefully.

Her face flushed red, a smile blossoming on her lips as she backed away. “Yes, breakfast.”

Blainey cleared her throat, saying her name one more time. “If you don’t go back to your common room right away—“

”Alright, alright,” she rolled her eyes, walking backwards towards the entrance. She waved one last time before she turned on her heel, slippers thwacking against the floor as she made her escape.

Blainey looked down at Garreth, coughing as he tucked himself back into bed.

”You won’t tell my aunt, will you?” Garreth asked hesitantly.

”I should,” Blainey narrowed her eyes. “But I won’t. Your aunt has too much to worry about without having to find out you tried to deflower a young lady in the hospital wing.”

”I did not,” Garreth guffawed. “I would never!”

Blainey shrugged. “And at least your case gave me a good chuckle today. Your friend Mr. Prewett is correct. You will always be remembered as the boy who’d cracked his skull open slipping on a banana peel, after all.”

”Oh come on,” Garreth huffed as the matron walked away. “You’ve had to have seen worse cases.”

”Self-inflicted banana related wounds are a first,” Blainey snorted as she walked back to her office. “Go to bed, Mr. Weasley.”

Garreth fell back against the pillows, wincing slightly at the sting from his wound. He stared up at the ceiling, touching his lips. He hadn’t dreamt it—he’d held her in his arms, kissed her until she was breathless. Quite content, Garreth fell asleep with little effort.

He had breakfast to look forward to, after all.

“Good as new,” Nurse Blainey nodded, balling up the wad of bandages from Garreth’s wound.

”Oh, thank Merlin.” Aunt Matilda cooed. “I’m glad the skelegrow was able to sort out the skull fracture.”

Garreth averted his gaze as he glanced at his watch. The house elves had brought up a fresh uniform for him, so he at least wouldn’t have to stop at the Gryffindor dormitory. He tapped his brown boots against the floor as Nurse Blainey went through her concussion checklist once more.

”Can I please leave?” Garreth wheezed, rocking back and forth on his heels. “Breakfast is nearly over—“

”What has you in such a rush this morning?” Aunt Matilda asked, eyes narrowed in confusion.

“I just have friends I need to meet up with at breakfast,” Garreth said quickly.

Nurse Blainey snorted as she tapped her quill against her clipboard. “Right,” she drawled. “Friends.”

Garreth drummed his hands against the iron rail of the bed, nodding his head. “Yes, friends.” He repeated. “And I really, really don’t want to miss them.”

“Well, you’ve passed the test with flying colors,” Blainey checked the assessment. “No flying, floo travel, or apparating for the next forty eight hours. Overall, please limit any physical activity.” She waggled her eyebrows at Garreth, prompting a ferocious blush on his cheeks.

”Thank you,” Garreth said quickly, snatching his book bag from the edge of the bed. He could hear his aunt yelling after him as he scampered down the hall, feet drumming against the stairs as he made his way down.

”Garreth!” Aunt Matilda roared. “I can write you a note if you’re that worried about being late—“

”Gotta run,” he bellowed, skipping the last two steps. “See you later, Aunt Tilly!”

Despite Blainey’s instruction to limit his physical activity, Garreth had never run faster in his life. He nearly mowed down a pack of first years trying to scamper through the hallways, prefects and portraits yelling at him to slow down. He tore past both Natty and Leander, their mouths agape at their best friend making a fool out of himself yet again.

There would be plenty of time to explain later.

Garreth pushed the doors of the Great Hall open, panting as he doubled over, hands on knees. He scanned the Great Hall, praying to Merlin he would find a familiar face. The room was mostly empty, most of his fellow students off to their first classes of the day.

Except her. His heart thumped in his chest as he stood up straighter; she was perched on the Gryffindor table, sitting next to the fruit bowl. Like every morning, she had a half eaten banana in her hand.

Garreth willed himself to walk over, a big goofy grin on his face as he approached her. There was a twinkle in her eye as she leaned back on her elbows, appraising him.

”You look well rested,” she hummed, taking another bite. “Good as new.”

Garreth rubbed the back of his head. The injury was gone, the thatch of hair ant the spot of his wound already grown back thanks to Blainey’s tonic. “Better than ever,” he announced, setting his bag on the ground. “Are you going to finish that?”

She carefully peeled the fruit, breaking off a chunk to hand to Garreth. He took it gratefully, savoring the bite as she ate the rest. He cocked a brow when she folded up the peel into a neat square, tossing it onto the table.

”Have to be careful, you know.” She shrugged. “There was a guy in here just yesterday, cracked his skull slipping on a banana peel.”

Garreth rolled his eyes, snickering. “Very dangerous.” He tiptoed closer to her, his thighs pressed against her knees. He shoved his hands into his pockets, rocking into her. “A fall like that might cause a head injury. Would make someone say some pretty crazy things.”

She snorted, tilting her chin up to face him. “I’m pretty sure you said you loved me before you slipped on the banana peel, Garreth.”

”I did,” Garreth admitted. “I love you.”

She didn’t have to say it back, he thought to himself. He was just happy it was out there, that she might reciprocate his feelings even fifty percent—

She grabbed his tie, tugging it to pull his face closer to hers. He could smell her perfume again, and the faint hint of banana on her lips. Her eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks, and she pressed a delicate kiss to his lips. Garreth returned it eagerly, pulling his hands out of his pockets and resting them on the table as he leaned into her embrace. Her kiss was soft and sweet, a reassurance of her feelings for him. When they pulled apart, foreheads resting against each other’s, she smiled once more.

“I love you too, you idiot.”

[sepherinaspoppies]

Like Him

ꕥ series masterlist & taglist ⋆. 𐙚 ˚masterlist ✧₊⁺AO3

⟢summary: Aemond's son Aelyx, is afraid to be like his father now that he has the same scar as him. (He later gets his revenge)

⟢pairing: Dark! Book Aemond Targaryen x Modern! Original Female Character x Original Male Character (Aelyx Targaryen)

⟢warnings: mild gore, mentions of violence, blood and injury, Aemond being a bad father, daddy issues, heavy angst, spoilers to my main story, sad with a happy ending at the end, Spanish words, but its okay cause I translated it.

⟢wc: 2824

⟢gif credit: @notalicent

So do I look like him?

Do I look like him?

-Like Him by Tyler the Creator

Vidalia had been in the nursery when she first heard it. 

A loud piercing cry followed by thunderous roar that shook the entire ground. She might’ve thought it were an earthquake, if not for Vidalia recognizing the familiar roar. 

Vermithor. 

“My lady, there has been an accident in the outer yard.” A maid sheepishly informed as she bowed her head down. 

Vidalia’s once playful smile deterred, towards the information. “What accident?” She asked, placing her babe in the arms of her trusted handmaiden. 

There had been a stinging sensation in her chest and by the way the timid maid fidgeted with her fingers and kept no eye contact with her, indicated that something bad must’ve happened.  

“It’s best you see it for yourself, my lady.” 

The maid gave her one last bow before she quickened her steps out of the nursery. Vidalia gave her little babe a kiss on his forehead as she too walked away in the direction to the outer yard. 

Along the way, Vidalia sensed the Keep was way too quiet for liking as if everyone else but her, knew what happened and decided to lock themselves in their rooms to spare themselves from her fury. 

Her first thought came to be of her second eldest son, Aelyx. Besides herself, Aelyx was one to always cause trouble amongst the Keep. Particularly towards his father whom he showed no fondness of. 

Although she often laughed at Aelyx’s pranks, she advised him to be wary of Aemond as he was quick to anger and hated mockery if it were directed at him. Aelyx shrugged her off as usual and Vidalia silently prayed Aemond would not harm her son. 

Her path to the outer yard came to be a short one as she spotted her crazed husband pounding on Aelyx’s bedroom door. 

“Open the door this instant, taoba!” Aemond bellowed. 

Aelyx shouted an angry reply in High Valyrian that she couldn’t quite make out. But she figured it was a mix of curses. 

“Please, open the door Aelyx. I’m so very sorry–”

“What happened?!” Vidalia asked, her eyes widening at the blood dripping on the tip of Blackfyre. 

Aemond felt the air in his lungs vanish as he came across his wife. He knew that by telling her what happened would ruin things between them further than what they already were. 

When she threatened to leave him before, Aemond feared she might actually do so now after the news. 

“Mi Vida, you have to believe me. It was a horrible accident in which I am deeply sorry for—”

“What. Did. You. Do?” She cut him off, uncaring for his apologies. Vidalia wanted to get to the root of the problem and she didn’t have time to hear his meaningless words. 

She wanted to know what he did to her son. 

Aemond’s lips open and closed, unable to conjure up the right words to say to not anger his wife. 

But Vidalia only scoffed irritatingly and gently knocked on her son’s door. 

“Alex, cariño, soy tu mamá, por favor abre la puerta.” She pleaded in Spanish. 

Vidalia had taught all of her children Spanish just as Aemond taught them High Valyrian. It was important to her that they knew the language from their Mexican ancestors even if no one in Westeros spoke the language. 

All of her children could speak and write it perfectly. While that made Vidalia proud, she could not help but to feel slightly vexed when Aemond constantly begged to not be kept out of the loop and to be also taught Spanish. Normally, Vidalia would not mind teaching non-Spanish speakers but when it came to her crazed husband she did mind. 

The door slightly cracked open and Vidalia took that chance to let herself in. Though, not alone as Aemond used his strength against Aelyx and pried the door wider for him. 

“Alex–” 

“Aelyx.” Aemond corrected. 

Vidalia ignored him, rushing straight to her son’s side where he had been covering his left eye with his hand. 

Almost immediately, Vidalia felt a panic attack brewing in. 

She saw the blood. The same deep crimson blood that had been on the tip of Blackfyre. 

“Show me, cariño.” Vidalia instructed as she kneeled to Aelyx’s shorter level. 

Aelyx glanced between his father and mother before he slowly brought his hand away from his wound. 

A long and gaping cut had been etched on the left side of his face. From the above his silver brow down to the tip of his cheekbone. 

The eye had at the least been spared. 

“Dios mío,” she whispered with a gasp. 

Aelyx’s lower lip twitched, pouting as he attempted to hold his tears. The young boy knew that the cut had been ugly and horrid; identical to his father’s own scar. 

There was a brief moment of silence between them, only the sound of Aelyx’s dragon whimpering in the distance, mimicking his rider’s pain. 

Vidalia didn’t fail to notice the way Aelyx moved away from her touch as she tried to examine him. 

He was scared. 

Her little boy was scared. 

A fiery rage suddenly built up inside her so vast that she stood up in all her height and turned to the person who’d been at fault. 

“You fucking did this!” Vida exclaimed, hitting Aemond square in the chest so hard he slammed his back on the wall. 

The one-eyed prince dismissed the pain, attempting to control his Vida but to no avail he could not. 

“It was a lapse in judgement. An accident. And I regret it, I’m so very sorry, mi Vida.” Aemond persisted. 

He only wanted to discipline his son after years of not being able to due his wife’s pleadings. 

Aelyx had been the most difficult of their children. Often speaking out of turn, not attending lessons with the maesters, pulling pranks on him and his family, and most importantly disobeying his orders. 

Like he had done in the outer yard.

Vidalia grabbed Aemond by the shirt of his collar, forcing to look at their injured son. “It is not me you should be apologizing but to Alex!” She hissed like a venomous snake. 

Times like this, his wife reminded him of his own mother in Driftmark when she fought and raged to his father over what the Strong bastard had done to his eye. 

“He is only just a boy. Our fucking son. You should be protecting him, not hurting him.” 

Aemond gulped, glaring at Aelyx who had been crying and holding his eye just like Aemond did those many years ago at Driftmark. 

“I’m sorry, Aelyx. Please, my son, you have to forgive me.” Aemond pleaded, keeping eye contact with his son’s brown eyes. 

However, Aelyx wiped the tears from his face with the back of his hand, expression hardening and becoming dark. 

“Save your apologies. You’re only ever sorry for putting yourself at risk with mother. But now she sees what you’re capable of,” Aelyx sneered. 

Aemond attempted to rebuke this when his wife beat him to it. 

“Make yourself useful and grab me my medical bag along with a bowl of clean water. And tell the acolyte Alester to brew milk of the poppy.” Vidalia urged Aemond, letting him go out of her hold. 

Without another word, Aemond did as he was told. 

—

Vidalia spent a total of three hours stitching Aelyx’s wound. In those three long hours, she tried not to cry seeing her son wince in pain every time the needle went through his delicate flesh. 

Although she had given him milk of the poppy she knew it wasn’t sufficient enough for the pain. If she were back in the modern world, she’d make sure her son would be prescribed something better. 

But sadly they were here, in this backwards country she desperately wanted to be rid of. 

“We could fly on Vermithor, just you, me, and my brothers. He is big enough to fit us all. We could find a way back home if we leave now,” Aelyx whispered loud enough for his mother to hear because even the walls had ears. 

Vidalia paused. 

“It’s not too late,” said Aelyx as he squeezed his mother’s hand. 

Vidalia glanced back at the door, fearing for her obsessive husband overhearing. 

“One day we will. Just not now,” she assured, staring deep into his brown eyes. “Hold still, I’m about to be finished with the last stitch.”  

Aelyx wondered if his mother truly wanted to go back to her world. At a young age, he constantly overheard his parents' conversations. Most of which were about his mother expressing to his father how she longed to go back to her real family and his father angrily denying her wishes saying she had a family here. 

It didn’t take long for Aelyx to figure out that the bedtime stories about the other world Vidalia would talk about was actually the world she used to live in. 

Unknowingly to the young Targaryen, Vidalia could not take her children just yet. Seeing as Aemond killed all of the witches left to prevent her from ever going back. 

“But don’t you miss–” Aelyx tried to say before Vida cut him off.

“We’ll talk about that later. Right now, I’m more intrigued to know what happened in the outer yard.” 

Aelyx sighed and Vidalia gave a ‘go on’ look which caused his mood to sour at the memory. 

“I went to train with Daelan and Lucas, to show them the moves Ser Willis taught me when fath– Aemond came to the grounds with Crispy Cole. He saw and decided to watch us train and after a while he asked us to fight one another. Me and Daelan did but Lucas did not wish to fight, he only wanted to observe. Aemond insisted he fight and asked to pick up his sword and have a duel with me.”

“But you know how Lucas is. He couldn’t say no to his father, so he did and accidentally pushed me. I didn’t mind it seeing as we were training but Lucas began to cry thinking he hurt me. I tried to calm him down but Aemond warned us not to mollycoddle him or else he’d get used to always being babied. Then he started being harsh with Lucas and— well I defended him.” 

Vidalia clenched her jaw in outrage. 

“My sword was nowhere near long enough to defend Lucas so I unsheathed Blackfyre from Aemond and began to fight him but it wasn’t long before he unarmed me and swung the sword at my face for interfering.” 

Aelyx then remembered the look of shock and regret his father had on his face. After a few moments, Aelyx realized that Aemond only felt that way because he feared what his mother would think or do. 

And he was right. 

Vidalia felt even more disgusted towards Aemond than she usually felt. One thing for sure, Aemond would pay for what he had done to her son. 

“Are-are you mad at me?” Aelyx mumbled, his voice cracking at the end. 

Vidalia shook her head, holding her boy close to her chest like when he first came to life many years ago. 

“No, I can never be mad at you, mi cariño. I’m proud that you stood up for your brother; that makes you very brave. But as a mother, I’m sad that this happened to you. I should’ve been there.” She cried, brushing the wild silver hair from his face. 

They held each other close for a long while until Vida explained that she needed to continue to clean the wound to prevent any infection. 

Of course, Aelyx let her. 

As she did so, Aelyx could not help but to look at himself in the mirror across from him. For years he tried to convince himself that he did not look like his father. But as he grew more and more each day, he started to really see him in himself. 

There were those in the Keep who considered the identical twins, Daelan and Lucas to be an exact replica of Aemond. However, most would argue that it was him who appeared more like Aemond. Even his grandmother, Alicent said so as well as his great-grandsire Otto. 

And that infuriated him more. 

He did not want to look like his deranged father. And Aelyx certainly did not want to be like him. 

But after what happened today, Aelyx wondered if he was him. 

Is that why they treat me differently than my other brothers?

Because I look like him?

Will they whisper how I will soon follow in my father’s footsteps?

Aelyx was so in his head that he did not realize he abruptly stood up from the chair and had walked in front of his full length mirror. 

“Alex, are you okay?” He heard his mother ask. He could not look at her and instead focused solely on his own reflection. 

The young prince then began to pick out one by one the rough familiarities he shared with him. 

He recalled being told by Alicent that he was tall for his age. Like him. 

He was slender. Like him. 

His posture was like his. 

He made the same expressions like him.

His face structure was like his. 

His nose was long like his, with the same dimple in the middle of it. Like him. 

Even his weird thumbs were crooked like his. 

He had silver hair like his. 

And when it was loose and unbraided, he looked like him. 

But now what absolutely destroyed him was that he had the same identical scar as him. 

They both had been ten when they got their scar. 

He was Aemond. And he’d always be like him. 

There was no going back now. 

“Wh-Why do I... Do I look like him now?" The little boy cried as he turned to his mother for comfort.

Vidalia felt her heart break. 

“Will you hate me too?” Aelyx cried. 

She shook her head.

“Will you one day leave me too?” Aelyx asked. 

Vidalia ran to her son before he said another word. 

She picked him up with all her strength and sat him down on her lap, wiping the tears away from his beautiful eyes. 

“Listen to me, I will never hate you. Nor will I ever leave you. Please, know I will never do either of those things.” Vidalia deeply easied his worriment. 

“But you will one day as I grow because I look just like him!” Aelyx exclaimed, thrashing around his mother’s arms. 

“No I won’t.” 

“But I—” 

“—you don’t.” 

“But I do just look at me—”

“I am looking at you and I’m telling you don’t.” She moved his head away from her chest and grabbed ahold of his red puffy face on her hands. “I never thought you looked like him. Never. Maybe just your hair but then again my family also has hair like yours.” 

At her words, Aelyx stopped his wriggling. 

“Are you saying your family were also Valyrians too?” 

She gave a small smile. “No, but both my abuelo and tio had hair like yours. The same color too; silver and shiny. But my tio shaved his when he was around your age. My abuela told me it was because kids in school would bully him and one day Belen had enough and grabbed my abuelo’s hair clippers and gave himself a buzzcut. Since then Belen has always had short hair.” 

“Genetics has always been a mystery even in my world. I look more like my abuela than my own mother. I have her dark skin and eyes instead of my mother’s light- fair skin and honey eyes. These very eyes are the same ones as yours, you know.” Vidalia tried to enlighten and it seemed like it worked. 

Aelyx stopped his crying and his head filled with wonder over his mother’s side of the family. 

“If you want I can cut your hair off, but I can’t promise I’ll do a very good job,” she laughed but she secretly hoped he wouldn’t agree. She loved his hair and it reminded not of her stupid husband, but of her family back home. 

Aelyx stood from his mother’s lap. “As tempting as it sounded in the beginning, no, I don’t want to do that anymore.” Hearing the familiarities he shared with his Mexican side of the family made him want to proudly show off his features. 

Because not only was he Valyrian, he was also Mexican. 

Like his mother. 

“I do have a better idea of who should cut his hair, though.” Aelyx said with a look of mischief. 

Vidalia smirked, knowing exactly what her son meant. 

“I’ll go get the scissors!” 

In the morning, Aemond Targaryen woke up to his hair practically gone and the whole Keep heard his scream of fury.

----

notes:

I forgot to mention, Aelyx is pronounced like "A-licks" and Aelyx hates it cause Aemond named him when he was born. So he goes by Alex instead since it's as close to his original name.

If some of this is confusing please let me know, I think I suck at explaining shit ahaha.

translations:

taoba: boy

Mi Vida: my life

cariño, soy tu mamá, por favor abre la puerta: darling, i'm your mother, please open the door

Dios mío: my god

abuelo: grandfather

tio: uncle

abuela: grandmother

thank you so much for reading <3 and I hope you guys enjoyed it!!!

[sorchathered]

Mine- Bradley Bradshaw x reader

Day 1. public sex + hair pulling

Summary-Summary- just nasty, possessive bathroom sex with Rooster, everyone say thank you to @roosterforme 😂😂😂

Warnings- Warnings- smut, choking, degradation, unprotected sex, language. It’s kinktober y’all, it’s gonna be filth.

The agreement was simple. Hot, dirty, mind blowing sex and no strings. He’d agreed months ago that he would be totally fine with this, no attachments, no falling in love. It had been so good, fulfilling every dirty thought he’d ever conjured up with you, things that should make a woman blush when he suggested them only made you wetter. But now there was a problem.

Bradley was down BAD.

Horribly, miserably, unnervingly down bad.

If Natasha knew she would joke that he was a simp, his obsession with your body had been borderline inappropriate these days, big brown puppy eyes following you around during the duty day, and undressing you at night when everyone was out for a drink. He was trying to keep it together, keep the line between the two of you friendly in public but god, he knew what you looked like all tied up and blissed out in his bed, with your pretty lips wrapped around his cock…how the hell was he supposed to keep his hands to himself? Especially when Seresin was dancing with you, his big stupid hands touching the places Bradley had touched, making you laugh like he should be doing, it was enough to make him white knuckle his beer bottle to make sure he didn’t start a bar room brawl.

When you decided it was time for a bathroom break he made his move, pushing through sweaty bodies in the crowded club as he followed your form to the darkened hallway. Catching your arm before you reached the threshold he shoved you into the dingy stall and had the door latched before you could even discern who held you in their grasp.

“Rooster?! What the hell! I almost maced your ass!”

You said with a huff, arms crossing underneath your breasts which only made them more of a focal point, saliva pooling in Bradley’s mouth at the thought of having his mouth on them.

“Get this scrap of fabric you call a dress off kid, and bend over. I’m done with watching someone else touch what’s mine, you’re gonna let me fuck this pretty pussy and then I’m gonna send you back out there dripping with me.”

You gaped at him, doe eyes wide at his candor. He’d kept the ruse up during the day, all of his dirty talk left strictly to texting and in the dark of your bedrooms, but there was something about the look in his eye that told you this wasn’t up for discussion. Still, you were an absolute brat, he knew you’d do what he wanted but you were absolutely going to be a pain in his ass about it.

Swiping the tiny satin dress over your head and dropping it on the counter, you took your time slowly bending yourself across the sink and eyeing him up in the mirror. He looked wrecked already. Hair mussed up from running his hands through it, wild eyes, hands clenched at his sides like he might put them through a wall if he didn’t get what he clearly, desperately needed.

“Yours huh?” You said with a wink as you smirked at him, and that was his undoing.

He pushed his cock into your heat roughly as he wrapped his fist in your ponytail and pulled you into his chest, rough voice rasping in your ear when he was fully seated.

“Yeah sweetheart, mine. Now shut your mouth and take it like a good girl.”

Your hipbones were sure to be bruised from slamming into the grimy countertop, he’d set a bruising pace, whispering filth in your ear as you clenched and writhed in his arms.

“You knew what you were doing didn’t you y/n? Getting me all riled up while you were grinding all over Jake. You think he could get you this wet? Practically dripping down my jeans. You didn’t have to be a slut about it doll, I would’ve just given you what you wanted, but no you had to be a fucking brat. Maybe I should just get myself off and leave you wanting, make you beg for it. What do you think?” He slid his hand from your neck down to your breast, grasping and tweaking your nipple as you cried out, practically drooling as you begged him not to stop.

“Ohh you poor thing, need my cock so bad huh? Tell me baby, tell me who’s fucking you so good.” His condescending tone had you even more turned on, head lolling back to his chest.

“Oh fuck- Rooster! You! Please, please don’t stop. Please baby I’m sorry, no one is as good as you!”

He shouldn’t have been so turned on by this, degrading you in public, but god this was something he’d never be able to dream up.

The knob on the handle began to jiggle, and you both startled, maybe the lock wasn’t as secure as Bradley thought. The dented metal began to swing open, but Bradley didn’t stop pounding into you, and it had you clenching around him at the possibility of someone finding him taking you like this.

“Oh shit! Sorry I-Bradshaw?! Jesus Christ man!” Jake calls out as he covers his eyes, but his body doesn’t make a move to vacate the space, and Bradley doesn’t slow down.

“Get- Out-“ he grits out and Jake seems to get the point, stumbling backwards and slamming the door behind him.

You cry out as he thrusts hit a bruising pace, mustached smirk grazing your neck with a chuckle.

“Oh you like this don’t you? Knowing that Jake knows I’ve got you like this. That’s the only shot he’s getting at seeing you like this, this pussy is mine. Mine to eat, mine to fuck. Say it. Say it sweetheart and I’ll let you come.”

“It’s- ‘s yours” you slur out, drunk on the feel of him.

“Atta girl, you need to come? I’ll get you there baby, taking my cock like a goddamn champ, come on sweetheart just a little more, come for me and then I’ll fill you up.”

He wrapped his large veiny hand around your throat and one to pinch your clit and you were done for, choking his dick with your orgasm so tightly that he could barely thrust into you. Screaming his name loud enough that someone outside definitely heard you, and sending him over the edge. He shouted your name and flooded you with his release, big heavy body all but crushing you into the sticky formica surface.

“Goddamn.” He chuckled as he helped pull you up and slide your dress back on, sticky cum painting your thighs as you tried to make yourself look presentable.

“I don’t know that there’s any salvaging this, everybody’s gonna know” you whispered against his lips, and to be honest you weren’t sure you cared if they found out.

“Let ‘em look baby, I meant what I said. This, us. I want it. You can take your time thinking about it but I know in the end you’ll say yes.”

His eyes danced with mirth as he waggled his eyebrows at you, and yeah, he was right. You were his, and there was no going back.

Tagging- @roosterforme @attapullman @bobgasm @seitmai @mynameismckenziemae @shanimallina87 @callsigns-haze @honeytwrites @kissmecaitie @sebsxphia @djs8891 @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @dizzybee03 @sunsetsimpsblog @senawashere @86laura11 @jessicab1991 @sio-ina-bottle @nouis-bum

[lcvclywon]

the waves and evening air

back to masterlist

synopsis .ᐟ When you and your best friend Jungwon get stranded on the beach, it might be a bigger blessing than you realise

warnings: mentions of food, denied feelings, fluff fluff fluff, not anything I can think of rn!

genre ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ; best friends to lovers

parings: best friend!Jungwon x best friend!female reader

wc ˖° around 1.2k ^^

thoughts frm yuya 💭 this was definitelyyyy based off that one scene from reply 1988 where taek and deoksun get stranded at the beach bc that's my comfort drama ^^ also thank you to my pookie @wonfilms for helping me conjure this up at 2 am, wrote this for u elle fr ><

“This is all your fault!” you cried out while slightly pushing Jungwon to the side (to which his stance sadly did not falter). To give some context, Jungwon had stupidly convinced you to stay just a little bit longer at the beach in hopes to find a few more seashells he could keep as souveniers. Which then resulted in you two missing the bus back home, meaning you would have to wait for next bus. Unfortunately said bus would only come at 8pm that night, meaning you had around 3 hours to kill. 

“Hey! It’s not that bad. At least we got cute seashells,” Jungwon defended as you two walked away from the bus stop defeatedly “, and I’d say three hours goes by quick if you have fun!” You turned to his face which had a grin plastered across to accompany his hopelessly optimistic attitude. 

“Yeah and how do you suppose we do that, we already did like 99% of the activities they have to do at this place.” you grumbled whilst kicking at small pebbles in your way as you walked 

“Uh well…” Jungwon said before scanning around the boardwalk to see if there were any shops that you’d haven’t been to yet. Suddenly catching something from the corner of his eye his head perked up before exclaiming “Hey shaved ice! We haven’t had that yet, and besides you need a refreshment.”

“I guess…” you grumbled under your breath before Jungwon started forcefully dragging your body to the shaved ice shop. Eyes glistening with hope and steps fueled with determination. 

“Hello! Uhm could we have two orders of shaved ice: one mango and one strawberry! Oh um both small sizes please, thank you.” you envied how no matter the situation, Jungwon’s voice always managed to come out calm and cheery. You also always caught onto how Jungwon knew your favourite flavours by heart, despite never telling him outwardly how much you loved mangos.

Shaved ice in hand you both made your way down near the sand to sit and watch the waves. Jungwon had mentioned earlier he hoped to catch the sunset with you before leaving, guess he got his wish you thought to yourself. You both sat in a comfortable silence while enjoying your desserts, letting the gentle sounds of the waves fill your ears. 

“Hey is yours any good?” Jungwon asked breaking the silence 

“Oh, yeah it’s good!” you said before scooping out a spoon of shaved ice for yourself. However before you could get to even enjoying the sweet treat Jungwon’s head dipped down and stole the bite you had crafted for himself, smirking before responding with a sly “Hm, it is good.” 

You nudged him slightly before whining out “Hey, that bite was for me!” 

In response Jungwon scooped out a spoonful of his shaved ice; moving the spoon closer to your mouth with a hand under to catch anything that might fall, uttering a small and simple “ahh” 

Despite the blush forming across your cheeks you moved your head forward to accept his offer, the sweet strawberry flavour melting on your mouth leaving you with a satisfied smile. You have to admit, shaved ice wasn’t a horrible idea. Leaning back into your chair you sighed out, eyes wandering to the oceans waves moving back and forth with the tide, a gentle smile forming across you face. One that Jungwon seemed to notice. 

“What’s on your mind hm?” he asked before spooning a mouthful of shaved ice into his mouth and tilting his head to face you. How did he always catch on to the small things? 

“Hm? Oh nothing, just you know-” you answered while poking at your somewhat melted dessert “this is, nice…”

“Told you so.” Jungwon joked with a smug grin, elbowing you playfully. 

“Nevermind, I take it all back, worst idea ever.” you deadpanned before turning away from him slightly. 

“Kidding kidding!” he said whilst wrapping his hand around you wrist to pull you closer. God he had to stop making your heart flutter.

Suddenly a huge gust of wind blew in your direction, the bitter cold causing shivers to run down your body. Immediately your hands reached to your sides to rub them and hopefully generate some warmth, which Jungwon once again seemed to notice. 

Without a word he unzipped his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. Looking up in startled, you cocked your head to the side with a confused look glazing your eyes. He simply flashed a small knowing smile in response, was his smile always this pretty? 

As the sun set darkness quickly engulfed the beach which led you two to heading into a small restaurant to enjoy a warm bowl of hot pot. You sat peacefully enjoying your warm bowl of soup whilst jungwon poured a bit more into your bowl. Glancing up you muttered out a small thank you in between bites. 

Shortly after the old woman who had been serving your table and running the restaurant came up to you two asking “Would you and your girlfriend like more soup?” 

You choked slightly on your fishcake before rushing to deny that you two were dating, however Jungwon seemed to be quicker. 

“No we’re just finishing up! Thank you though, must be hard running this place yourself” he replied politely 

“Oh it’s no trouble! What a gentleman you are, I’ll go and get your check then. You kids enjoy the meal” she cooed before heading off to the back. 

You stared at Jungwon with puzzled eyes and mouth slightly agape before uttering “Girlfriend?” 

“No point in correcting her right? Eat, eat…” he responded nonchalantly before spooning the remaining bits of fishcake into your bowl. What did he mean by that? You tried to brush it off and continued eating, but you couldn’t lie that it remained in the back of your mind even while riding the bus back home. 

“I mean there kinda was a point.” you said out of the blue, obviously throwing Jungwon off guard a bit. 

“Hm, what do you mean?” his face resembling confused kitten as he tilted his head to the side

“I mean, we aren’t dating. So there kinda was a point in correcting her” you reached for the hem of your skirt twiddling with it slightly.

“I mean we might as well be right?” Jungwon answered before lacing your hand with his. A bright blush formed across your face when you registered what he just said. What? 

“So does that mean…” you asked expectantly, trailing off as you were too embarrassed to finish your question.

“It means exactly what you think it means.” Jungwon replied before pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your hand “Why’d you think I made you stay and collect seashells? Obviously I don’t like seashells that much YN, I just wanted to keep hanging out with you.” 

“Well it worked, today was great” you giggled out before yawning 

“Are you sleepy?” Jungwon questioned attentively 

“Hm just a bit…” you commented, feeling your eyelids begin to become heavier. 

Before you could do anything Jungwon moved your head to rest on his shoulder before muttering a small “Sleep on me, I don’t mind” 

You happily accepted his request, before drifting off into a peaceful slumber. A smile painted across your face, a smile you trusted you could always have with Jungwon. 

Maybe missing the bus was worth it

[gravehags]

three times you sexted copia, and one time copia sexted you

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x f!Reader (Curator!Reader)

Rating: EXPLICIT

Words: 2,391

Tags: sexting, nudes, masturbation, reader being a devious little shit, ghouls also being devious little shits

Summary: What it says on the tin.

a/n: i have nothing further to add other than i absolutely know in my heart copia is terrible at taking nudes

~~~

Cardinal Copia’s hand flies to the pocket of his cassock when his phone begins to vibrate loud enough that it sounds against the wood of the pew. Cardinal Leroux turns in front of him to give him an ugly side eye, his mouth downturned in disapproval.

“Eh, sorry,” Copia whispers with a sheepish smile, and he sees Secondo glaring at him from the pulpit where he’s delivering his sermon. Anyone who knows him knows not to text him at this hour - that he’s either participating in mass or observing it - and his stomach drops as his phone vibrates again. If it’s anyone though, it’s you and he begins to conjure the horrible scenarios that would cause you to text him at this hour. You were fine when he left that morning, gave him a swift kiss on the cheek before he hustled out the door, but what if something terrible happened between now and then? What if you had slipped and hurt yourself, or what if you had a heart attack, or a seizure, or…he can’t stand it anymore and fishes his phone out of his pocket. When he opens his texts he chokes on his own spit.

Well…you’re not hurt, that’s for sure.

The first photo is you, reclined on his bed wearing nothing but one of his red birettas. You’ve got a sinful little pout on your face, teeth tugging on your bottom lip and he knows he’s mouth breathing as he attempts to shield his screen from any potential onlookers. He’s not prepared when he swipes to the next picture - an angled shot of you with your head tilted back, eyes closed in pleasure as your other hand is three fingers deep inside your–

“On that note, I believe Cardinal Copia would like to lend his voice to today’s sermon.”

His head jerks up at the sound of his name and he looks around panicked, fumbling with his phone in an attempt to shove it back in his pocket. All heads are turned to look at him - including Terzo, who looks wildly entertained - as he gapes like a goldfish.

“Eh…no…no thank you Papa.”

“I insist, Cardinal.”

Secondo looks positively venomous as he stares Copia down. Someone loudly cough-speaks the word “idiota” and Copia’s head swivels to Terzo, who looks like the picture of innocence. He can give a sermon drunk and with his eyes closed but his hands are currently folded in his lap hiding the…delicate state your photos have put him in. Leroux turns around again and gives him an evil little smile, the smug bastard. For a moment Copia actually entertains refusing to get up but he knows such stubbornness will only get him in further trouble. He sighs deeply and rises to his feet, cheeks beet red, as he sidles out of the pew and down the nave. He’s got his hands not-so-discreetly shielding the tent in his cassock and as he approaches the pulpit, someone lets out a loud wolf whistle. Secondo glowers down at him for a moment before giving him a slow, deliberate wink and a smirk.

Piccola volpe, he thinks as he looks out on the congregation, when I get my hands on you.

__

This meeting sucks.

That’s the only thought running through Copia’s head as he slumps in the uncomfortable wooden chair sitting at the end of the conference table. Meetings with the other cardinals and Terzo always consisted of at least one person getting offended by something lewd Terzo says (what is this, the Vatican?) and then Terzo changing the subject to something entirely off-topic. Right now he’s spouting off about how the Ministry needs to put in a pool with a swim up bar. 

Copia wishes you were here.

You made even the most boring staff meetings tolerable, sitting next to him and giving him sideways smiles or texting him under the table. He wonders what you’re doing right now. Grabbing his phone off the table, he tucks it below the surface and taps out a text.

Amore this meeting blows. Save me.

A couple minutes pass and his phone lights up.

Poor thing. Give me a sec.

He has a vision of you kicking the conference room door in and dramatically rescuing him from this ridiculous fate and it makes the corners of his mouth twitch. He’s about to send you this exact thought when his phone lights up. 

This better?

He almost drops his phone as he beholds a photo of you sitting at your desk, top yanked down to expose your breasts.

Amore! Warn me next time!

A moment and then a video pops up. He makes sure the volume is turned all the way down and hits play, sucking in a breath. You’re blinking sweetly at the camera, lips turned up in a teasing smirk, as you massage your breast with your free hand. When your fingers deliver a sharp pinch to your hardened nipple, he sees rather than hears your mouth open in a gasp. A text follows.

If you don’t like my pictures I can always find someone else to send them to.

The leather of his glove squeaks as he clenches his fist. Terzo and Cardinal Bergoglio have now entered into a shouting match that the other cardinals are trying desperately to intervene upon.

You can’t send me this and expect me not to do anything about it.

Oh yeah? Gonna slip away and take care of yourself? Or are you gonna come take care of me, Your Eminence?

Cazzo, you know exactly how to push his buttons and he loves every second of it. He’s jolted out of his lustful haze by Cardinals Leroux and Xavier jumping out of their seats to hold Bergoglio back while Terzo laughs in his face.

They won’t notice him missing.

Slowly he rises from his seat and backs out the door.

He’s thankful your office is not too far away.

___

It’s been 34 days.

Thirty-four long, arduous days since he’s seen your face, felt your presence. Thirty-four days since he’s smelled your perfume, your hair, your…well. He sags into the tour bus couch as the vehicle speeds down a dull highway in the middle of nowhere. The North American tour was almost over and he’s thankful it’s been such a success but cazzo, he misses you terribly. He opens up his texts and sighs as he types one out.

Miss you, amore mio.

He has to smile at the speed with which you text him back.

Miss you more, bello. What are you up to, where are you?

Copia looks up. Aether, Mountain, and Cirrus are sitting at the table playing Yahtzee while Dewdrop naps in one of the swivel chairs. Cumulus is folded up on the couch on his left, crocheting something while Swiss sits on his right, fucking around on his phone. He winces when he realizes that Rain is probably in the bathroom emptying his stomach again - the road did not agree with the poor water ghoul. 

“Eh, where are we performing tonight?” he asks the room. Without even looking up, they answer.

“Little Rock.”

“Grazie.”

On the road to Little Rock. Not doing anything, just sitting here being miserable and wishing you were here. What are you doing?

I’ll be totally honest with you, I was just about to uhhhh take care of myself if you get my drift. You’re not the only one wishing I was there.

Oh. Now this is an intriguing turn of events. He shifts in his seat and he tucks his phone closer to him.

Show me

A few minutes pass and he wonders if he’s offended you in some way when his phone lights up again. The image presented to him is an angled shot of you in his bed, wearing the Ghost shirt he got you. On your legs are black thigh-high stockings and in your hand…oh ho ho. He knew it was genius to get you that little parting gift before he left for tour.

Gonna fit all that inside you, diavoletta mia?

It’s a poor substitute for you but I’ll do my best

Copia’s eyes dart up and around the cabin. Everyone is still doing their own thing, oblivious to what is occurring on his phone. He begins anxiously jiggling his leg, fingers playing out a rhythm on his thigh as he waits for your next update.

I’m soaked, baby. Just from the thought of you. Thinking about your tongue and how your nose bumps my clit just right.

His mouth goes dry and his sweatpants tighten.

Lemme see

The next picture is a close up of your fingers, your slick glistening on them in the low light followed immediately by a picture of you sliding them against your tongue. When he lets out a slight whine, Cirrus looks up at him with a cocked eyebrow. He shifts in his seat again, clearing his throat.

Bellezza mia, my filthy girl. I miss your taste. Remember when I told you I wanted to tie you to my tour bus bed? Wish I had made good on that

Mmm me too. Keeping me spread open and ready for you to use. The Cardinal’s little fuck toy. Is your cock hard? Thinking about bending me over while your ghouls listen in the other room? Are they there now?

He takes several deep breaths and jumps when Dew lets out a loud snore.

They are. Show me how well you take my little gift, sì?

Slowly, Copia shifts to grab the pillow next to him and cover his hardened cock. Cumulus gives him a small side eye but says nothing. When his phone vibrates again he almost drops it. The picture you have sent him is of you on your knees, thighs spread and shirt lifted up to bare your cunt and the thick dildo buried inside it to the hilt. He stares at it so long his eyes go blurry and doesn’t even realizes he’s rutting against the pillow until–

“Unholy fuck.”

This time he really does drop his phone as Swiss and Cumulus loom over him with open mouths. 

“Wait let me see it again–” Swiss starts, moving to grab the phone.

“See what, what are we seeing?” Dew grumbles, yawning loudly.

“The Cardinal’s mate,” Cumulus begins with an eager grin, “She had a dil–”

“That’s enough!” Copia squawks, holding the pillow firm against his crotch while also attempting to slap away Swiss’ hand.

“Aether, hold him down so I can get it you have got to see this–”

“That is private, you little fucker!” Copia shouts, even as Mountain gets up and promptly sits on him.

“She said she wanted the ghouls to watch–”

“No, she said she wanted the ghouls to listen–wait how much did you see?”

Swiss grins, triumphantly securing Copia’s phone in between his fingers.

“I’ll tell her,” Copia growls, “She will not be pleased.”

“She’s a little freak,” Dew says with a filthy smile, standing up to stretch, “she’ll love it.”

Cirrus and Cumulus look at each other and shrug, making noises of agreement.

“Ghoul, get off of me. Swiss if you don’t–”

“Relax, boss,” he says, slapping his phone back into his hand. “Don’t worry, I saw enough to give me some inspiration later. I’ll give the others a thorough breakdown.”

Copia lets out a strangled howl as Rain stumbles into the room. Everyone falls quiet as the slender ghoul looks around bleary eyed.

“Wait, what did I miss?”

___

You’re thinking about your bed.

Your nice, soft, warm bed with your beloved tucked in it which is exactly where you should be right now instead of being glowered at from across a table by Papa Nihil. You should be in Copia’s arms, your nose buried in his neck smelling the remnants of his cologne. You should be carding your fingers through his chest hair as he murmurs sweetness at you in Italian. You should–

Well, speak of the Devil.

You surreptitiously look down at your phone as Sister Imperator talks about a fundraiser, smiling at what you see.

I am sorry I abandoned you, amore.

He told you this morning he wasn’t feeling well and you knew it must be serious for him to call out. If only you had the wisdom to do the same but both of you missing from the staff meeting would immediately be suspicious. And Imperator had just started tolerating you again after the incident in her office with Copia so you didn’t want to piss her off.

It’s okay, beloved. How are you feeling? Need me to bring you anything when I get out?

A pause.

I have a confession to make

Your lips tilt downwards in a frown as one of the bishops - Walsingham, you think? - starts to speak.

…what?

I’m not sick

You purse your lips and have to force yourself not to stomp your foot childishly.

You little fucker! You made me come do this bullshit on my own and for what!

For this–

A minute passes and then an image pops up on your screen. You’re not entirely sure what you’re looking at. It’s blurry and poorly lit and you think it might be–

Did you get a hairless rat?

You’re still squinting at the screen when his response pops up.

Amore! That’s my dick!

Huh. Yeah you can kind of see it - the familiar thick vein running down the length, the swollen head, the brown and silver curls at the base. You smile fondly.

Is this your first nude? Because I have some pointers

AMORE MIO I SHOWED YOU MY DICK AND THAT IS WHAT YOU SAY

Whoa. You have to raise your hand to your mouth to cover the smile stretching your face.

My apologies, beloved, your dick looks very nice. When I get out of this god awful meeting I’m coming back and showing you how it’s done. Then you’re free to send me all the lewd photos at inopportune moments as you want, okay?

A beat passes and briefly you wonder if you hurt his feelings before your screen lights up again.

Va bene, padrona. Will you be back in time to take care of my…situation or should I take care of myself?

You look at your watch.

Keep it hot for me. I deserve a treat after this meeting.

[violetlunette]

So, here’s a horrifying brain-vomit: If all the mirrors to the dorms broke, would all the students die? Or be trapped forever?

And if it's the latter, would time sort of freeze where everyone is stuck in time at their teenage years? Or would they continue to age? Either way, they'd only survive if they're able to start an agriculture to get what they need to survive.

I know all these places have washrooms, which indicates that water is magically made. So let’s pretend—for the sake of the horror—that the water suddenly stops appearing.

Pomefiore, Heartslabyul, and Octavinelle would do fine in the long run, as they all have an ecosystem to fulfill their needs.

Pomfiore has plenty of apples, and all the greenery suggests a good water system. They’d have to eat like sheep, eating only greens and fruits, but they’d live. (As far as I know.)

The same applies to Heartslabyul. Except for fruit they could breed the flamingo and hedgehogs for food and eat the former’s eggs. (Assuming the animals aren’t fixed.) Otherwise, they could survive on the greenery and roses that aren’t painted.

Octavinelle's merstudents would do swimmingly. They’d just have to breed the fish to survive as Octavinelle is underwater. The landfolk would struggle without clean water to drink, but Azul could come up with a way to turn saltwater into drinkable water. That said, it’d be hell for the landfolk, who would definitely get taken advantage of the merfolk. (Tis the nature of the dorm.)

Diasomnia would be okay if Malleus was trapped in the mirror when it broke, but otherwise screwed. (Note: For this horrible scenario we’re assuming his game-break powers can’t repair the mirrors. Nor can he just teleport out of pocket dimensions.) If Malleus was there, he could conjure water and food for his dorm. Otherwise, Diasomnia would only have moat water to drink and thorns to eat.

Scarabia would only survive if Kalim was there and there were cactuses and stuff to eat. And even then, the desert environment would not be easy to live in.

Savanaclaw would be screwed. If it’s anything like I know of the Savanna, there’s not a lot of places to grow food, and they have no animals to breed. On top of that, there would be little to no water in the area. And unlike Diasomnia or Scarabia, their house warden can’t magically conjure any. So, unless they get creative and find a miracle, they’re dead.

Ignihyde would also be dead as the underworld it takes influence from. The only food and water they have are in vending machines, except the lake, which doesn’t seem drinkable. They’d have to turn themselves into robots to survive.

But even if we pretend the water keeps appearing, that doesn’t change the fact that there’d be little to no food for 3-4 of the houses. (Again, depending on if Diasomnia had Malleus there.)

And even then, in time everyone would die eventually due to age, sickness, or something else. Meaning all the students would have to watch everyone around them die until they joined them.

Malleus, who’s a dragon, would outlive EVERYONE and, in the end, would be all alone with zero connection to the outside. Meaning, in time, he’d go insane. (Unless he, like some lizards, can shift genders to lay eggs, and he mated with all the boys to create babies to keep him company, which is a whole other can of worms.)

Ignhyde and Octavinelle would be the only houses to survive the passages of time in the long run if the mirrors were never fixed.

Ignhyde could become a robot world and create robo-children or make a Matrix society where everyone lived in their head. Meanwhile, Octavinelle could procreate by taking advantage of fish biology and shifting genders. (Providing merfolk have that ability.)

In conclusion, let’s hope the mirrors to the dorms never break and that if they do, they a) spit the students out or b) Crowley has a magic mirror repairman.

This is all just my quick-fire thought on all this. I'm curious to hear what everyone else thinks would happen in this scenario.

[gu6ler]

kairos.

— spencer reid x gn!reader

SUMMARY: in which spencer reid finally verbalizes his feelings towards you, despite having gone months of being afraid to show his love.

WC: 588.

TW: slight angst(?), possibly ooc, cliché prompt, cheesy gooey stuff, reader gets kinda emotional at the end, no use of y/n, my horrible rushed writing, lowercase is intentional, not proofread.

A/N: hi <3 this is my first post here on tumblr. i'm still getting the hang of things so if anything looks odd i apologize. this is just something i conjured up real quick to post cause i wanted to test the waters and see how things go. feedback of any kind would be greatly appreciated !!

chocolate locks slid through your fingers as you threaded your hand in spencer's hair. whatever chick flick you'd turned on to pass the time droned in the background, your attention focused solely on your boyfriend as he rested his head in your lap, spread across the old couch in your shared apartment. moments like this were rare and fleeting, so you knew you had to savor it. savor the comfortable feeling that his presence provided. your apartment was far from luxurious, but it was your safe place. the calm, gentle atmosphere was so delicate and precious.

spencer's eyes were closed, but you could tell he wasn't quite asleep. the two of you had spent so much time together, it was easy to read him from his pace of breath alone, and vice-versa. a large hand carefully wrapped around one of your bare knees, nimble fingers tracing random shapes into your soft skin. it was a little habit spencer had picked up - a little way of keeping his hands preoccupied, much like his usual fidgeting. you gazed down at him, your hand gliding through his curls to gently stroke his cheek with the back of your knuckles.

“what are you thinking about?” you broke the quiet, and he swore his heart skipped a few beats. your voice was always so soft and gentle, you could calm him with just a few words.

“nothing.” he replied simply, eyes squinting as he opened them and adjusted to the dim lighting of the living room. he looked up at you, those charming puppy eyes gazing into your own. his cheek was smushed against the plump flesh of your thighs, a tiny frown pulling at his lips.

“you are thinking about nothing?” you raised a brow. at the sight of his frown, you felt your own heart ache in your chest. your hands raised to brush some of his hair off of his forehead. the action caused his eyelids to flutter, lashes kissing his cheeks for a moment. his brows turned up, furrowing together in that all-too familiar look of worry. your hand came to rest on the side of his cheek. “what is it, spence?”

his eyes darted between your own, searching for something he wasn't even sure of. he couldn't help but lean into your touch, one of his large hands wrapping around your wrist to hold it in place. his thumb rubbed over your pulse point as he placed a gentle, lingering kiss to your palm. when your gaze met his own, he swallowed thickly. he knew he was in so deep, foolishly in love with you. it felt like his heart was in his throat. for as long as he could remember, a part of him, buried deep down, was afraid of love. he was afraid of getting hurt again. for a brief moment, he let himself be selfish. he allowed himself to love unconditionally.

“i love you,” he spoke, his voice quiet and small. you had to strain your ears just to hear him. those three words held more weight than you ever thought possible. you'd spoken the phrase countless times over the months, never prying for reciprocation.

“i love you, too,” you whispered back. a teary smile pulled at your lips, the stinging in your eyes was quite prominent. without a word, spencer lifted his head from your lap. his hands held your head with a certain tenderness as he caught your lips in a sweet, loving kiss.

in that perfect moment, your world was at peace.

likes + reblogs are appreciated !!