#Had enough always being the one left behind on the side

[sapphiremusings]

when i’m down on my knees, {aemond targaryen}

summary: with their wedding only a few days away, aemond eases his betrotheds fear of him.

WARNINGS: explicit smut, oral sex (f receiving), teasing, baratheon!reader, no use of y/n

this is the first in a 2 part series! let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part :)

The rumors concerning Lady Baratheon’s betrothed are not lost on her. No, she is well educated on Prince Aemond ‘One-Eye’ Targaryen’s unsavory reputation, just as much as every other lord and lady in Westeros.

Before she was shipped off to King’s Landing in preparation for her royal wedding, her sisters had made it their duty to tease her. They made sure that she was well aware of her prince’s cruel attitude, and the monstrous look of him, with a sharp scar down the left side of his face. By the time she had arrived to the Red Keep, she was teeming with fear as her sisters’ words echoed through her mind.

Prince Aemond is known to be a cruel yet dutiful man. He is said to be a skilled swordsman, besting his mother’s sworn knight, Ser Criston Cole, on many occasions. He rides the largest— and oldest— dragon, the same one that the conquerors sister-wife, Visenya, had rode into battle many times. He had claimed the she-dragon at a young age, losing his eye in the process to his young nephew. His missing left eye is another topic often whispered about in court. Some say that he had cut out another man’s eyeball, and placed it into his empty socket. Others say he has a large jewel in its place, something so peculiar and off-putting that he is forced to cover it up with a leather eyepatch.

All of this is to say that any sane lady would be terrified of their betrothal to Aemond Targaryen. Of course, Lady Baratheon is well aware that most Westerosi marriages are born out of duty, not love. If anything, she should feel blessed by the gods that she is betrothed to a young prince, and not some measly lord old enough to be her grandsire. Yet, she cannot help her feelings of terror at the thought of her upcoming wedding, and even more so, her soon-to-be husband.

From a young age, her septa had installed in her what was to be expected of her when she became of age. Being a dutiful wife was the only thing she was to worry about, and then being a dutiful mother to her husband’s heirs. She would often have nightmares about an old lord running his eager hands down her gaudy wedding gown, pushing her onto the marital bed where she would be forced to lay under his big gut as he ruts into her, witnesses to the dreaded bedding ceremony snickering behind the sheer curtains. Her ladies-in-waiting would comfort her after these night terrors, smoothing down her hair and promising that no harm would come to her. Even with their sweet words, she knew the truth; she would be forced to marry a stranger, and endure all the hardships that came with having no freedom of her own.

Now, with her wedding only a few days away, she can barely sit still. Her mind incessantly spins around various scenarios that can take place on that special day, and she worries over her impending future. She has taken to walking along the Keep’s gardens, and throughout the various twisting halls; anything to keep her moving. Her father always scolded her for this habit, as to him it was the equivalent of running away from your problems. Still, she can’t help it as the big day draws forward, her anxiety swollen inside her.

It isn’t that she doesn’t want to become a wife. It is merely her irrational fear of her husband-to-be. Even now, as he walks behind her, quiet in his sure steps, his gaze burns through all her layers, settling deep within her core. She feels as if she is on fire, and the longer he stares, calculating and as if she is a foreign creature, the more this inferno swells. Every move she makes is with caution, in fear that he will strike her down and show off that unforgiving nature that he is known for. So far, he hasn’t, but she believes this is merely a false front. Surely, he is waiting for when they are finally married to show his true colors, knowing that she will be his and unable to do anything about it.

She begs to the Seven to release her from this torment, her spine rigid as they continue their walk through the Keep’s halls. She had wanted to be alone, as she often has been since arriving in Kings Landing, artfully dodging any attempt at courting that Prince Aemond tried to enact. Truthfully, it has been his queen-mother, Alicent, who has pushed her son towards his betrothed, and to Lady Baratheon, he hasn’t seemed that worried over the fact that she has been avoiding him. No, he merely stares, violet eye darting over her face and figure as if she is a puzzle he is trying to solve.

Really, she doesn’t understand why he is still walking behind her, steps steady and calculated. They haven’t spoken a single word to each other since their initial greeting that morning, when he had been waiting outside her chamber doors, ready to escort her on her walk. Even then, it had merely been a “good morn” recited, both tense in their separate ways. Aemond couldn’t look more annoyed even if he tried, seemingly uninterested in anything she could potentially offer him. Not that she was offering anything.

Growing bored of wandering aimlessly around the Keep, Lady Baratheon pauses with a sigh. Tersely, she turns to the side, not daring to look at her betrothed, who has halted behind her. “I’d like to retire to my cha-“

“I want to show you something, my lady.”

Her heart nearly stops beating at his words, sudden and surprising as he takes a step towards her. She wishes to flee, but her feet stay planted on the floor, and she watches from the corner of her eyes as he brings a hand up to grab ahold of her elbow. Though the fabric of her dress sleeves acts as a barrier between flesh, she still feels as if she was scalded. She flinches, almost imperceptibly, but Aemond seems to notice as he lets out a hum.

She knows she mustn’t deny him. No, her septa had taught her well. So, she meekly nods her head, cheeks flushed in apprehension.

They walk back through the halls, towards a place she has never dared to step foot near, a dark alcove lit only by torches and candles. She lets out a gasp at the sight before her; the giant skull of the largest dragon known to Westeros. If she wanted to, she could walk straight into its jaws and past the many rows of sharp teeth. Her breath catches in her throat.

Aemond’s voice comes out in a whisper, right next to her ear. “This is the skull of Aegon the Conqueror’s dragon, the largest who’s ever lived. His name was-“

“Balerion. The Black Dread,” she interrupts him, immediately regretting so afterwards.

Instead of scolding her like she expected him to do, he merely breathes out a small laugh. Still, she feels the need to apologize, even as she stutters over her words.

“I apologize, my prince. At Storm’s End, we had a few tomes about the Conquest, and they interested me greatly.”

He hums. “Do not apologize. I like to know what you are thinking.”

She doesn’t know how to reply to this, heart pounding against her chest as she feels him step closer behind her, pressing into her back. He towers over her frame, hard and lean against her. His head bends, lips coming close to her ear.

“Are you afraid of me, my dear betrothed?”

“N-no,” she stutters out, the lie tasting bitter on her tongue. Her eyes focus on the dragon skull before them, willing her heart to calm down. “No, my prince.”

He seems amused by her answer. “Liar.”

Another gasp escapes her mouth as his lips flutter over the shell of her ear, trailing down to the crook of her neck. He smells of smoke and steel, leather and something else she can’t put her finger on— but it’s intoxicating as it enters her nose, and she feels like nuzzling against him. Her fear won’t let her, nor will it let her move from his grasp, even as she shakes like a leaf under his hands, now resting atop her forearms.

“You avoid me. You can’t even look me in my eye,” he muses, lips still pressed against her skin. “You are shaking… am I so fearsome, Lady Baratheon?”

She whimpers, shaking her head, eyes growing wide as his grip tightens. “I’m sorry…”

His hand suddenly grabs ahold of her jaw, making her flinch, in which he lets out a disappointed tsk. Slowly, he turns her face towards his, fingers gentle against her rosy cheeks. She trembles as she meets his dark gaze, his lilac iris now a small ring, overtaken by his widened pupil. His eyebrows are furrowed, and his stare travels across her face, stopping on her lips.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispers, blinking. “No… quite the opposite. Will you let me show you?”

Deep within her stomach, something sharp twists, turning her blood hot as it pools within her veins. She is afraid, but another feeling unknown to her is slowly creeping up her spine, turning her brain into mush as she continues staring up at her betrothed. Her fingers reach up to grasp on his arm that’s wrapped around her, tightening around the leather of his sleeve. His gaze doesn’t move away, nor does he. Instead, he seems to draw closer, pressed against her back as his lips near hers. She can’t help but flutter her eyes closed, and before she can fully think about what she is agreeing to, she dips her chin down into a small nod.

Aemond’s lips immediately find hers, warm and plush, eager in his exploration. She has never been kissed before, and the feeling is foreign, but her pulse begins to thrum within her, and she opens her mouth to take more of it. He seems pleased by her reciprocation, groaning softly as he brushes his tongue against her teeth, his hand that still cups her jaw growing harsher. Their tongues slip against each other, a jolt of lightning hitting her every time they touch, her skin pebbled with goosebumps.

Growing restless, she spins around in his arms, hungry for something she doesn’t yet have a word for. Her arms wrap around his neck, and she has to push herself up onto her toes as she meets his lips once more, a clashing of teeth and spit. Between her legs, it grows hot, pulse thumping at her very core. She wants to climb on top of him and devour him, her fear of her mysterious prince melting away with every flick of his tongue. Is it supposed to feel like this?, she thinks, whimpering as she pulls him down closer by his neck.

When he pulls away, panting, she whines, her own chest heaving as she tries to breathe, but the throbbing between her thighs is so strong, she merely steps into his arms once more. He chuckles at this, looking down at his eager betrothed, flushed and nearly ravaged.

“I haven’t even shown you yet, and you’re already begging for more,” he muses, clicking his tongue mockingly. “What happened to my fearful little betrothed, hm?”

This sobers her up, her already flushed face turning a deeper shade of scarlet, and she staggers back on her feet. Aemond doesn’t let her go far, though, immediately grabbing ahold of her waist and pulling her back in. His hand brushes her hair back from her face, forcing her to look up at him once more, fingers firm in their hold. He smirks at the dazed look in her doe eyes, glassy as his words work through her mind on a loop. Though he should feel bad, he can’t help but relish her embarrassment. Hadn’t she been embarrassing him since her arrival, every time she would dart away from him and cower in fear just from his gaze?

“Please,” she whispers, swallowing a lump within her throat. His eyes seem to sparkle at her pleading.

He softly laughs. “Do you want me to touch you?” When she nods, eyebrows furrowed, “Use your words.”

Shame pools within her chest, squeezing around her heart as she continues to look up at him. Something inside her is begging to be released, pounding against her skull until every bone in her body rattles under its force. She doesn’t know what it is, or how to stop it, but her body draws itself closer to Aemond like he is the cure. Even now, as she gazes at his handsome face, all harsh lines and pouted lips, silver hair long and pulled back behind his head, eye a deep shade of violet, this thing within her only grows stronger in its fight to leave its prison. He is her betrothed, and a Prince of the realm, so who is she to deny him?

“Yes,” the word tastes like the sweetest poison on her tongue, and when he still makes no move to touch her, she continues. “Please, Aemond… touch me.”

She nearly cries when he smiles, leaning down to catch her lips, but her elation plummets when he doesn’t meet her embrace. Instead, his lips attach themselves to her jaw, tender as he licks and nips at the skin, traveling down her neck. Though she wants nothing more than his lips on hers, she still keens at the strange feeling, fingers tangling themselves into his long hair. His hands squeeze her hips, running up and down her sides, brushing against the bottom of her breasts. She arches into his touch, soft pants leaving her lips as he groans against her flesh.

Her feet start to step backwards as he pushes her, until she hits the stone wall behind her. His lips move to her heaving bosom, where the tops of her breasts sit within her dress, while his hand moves under her skirts, trailing along the bare skin of her thighs. They tremble beneath his touch, shutting close and trapping him there. He merely brings his leg between them, prying them back open so his hand can continue its journey to her weeping core. She shakes beneath him, sweat gathering at her brow, eyes pleading.

Aemond shushes her, bringing his lips back to hers, sighing as she pulls him closer and slips her tongue between them. When his hand slips under her undergarments, fingers nestling among her damp curls, she almost sobs, hips bucking up in shock. His other hand grabs onto her waist, stilling her movement as his fingers glide through her wetness, gathering the pool of arousal that sits along her hole. Her chest heaves, head dizzy with the new feeling, and she feels as if a bolt of lightning, white hot and blinding, has struck her. Hands grasp onto his shoulders for purchase, nails digging into the dark leather of his tunic, frantic as she looks for something to steady her racing heart.

“Seven hells, you’re soaked,” he gasps, fingers pressing against the apex of her, rubbing tight circles. “And here I thought you were afraid of me…”

She can barely comprehend his words, feeling as if her head is stuck in a cloud of smoke, heady and all-consuming. Her hands run down his shoulders and arms, now gripping onto his slim waist, pressing his body closer to her. His pale neck hovers over her face, and she can’t help but gravitate towards the unmarred skin, pressing her quivering lips to the base. Her tongue darts out to taste him, whimpering as she tries once more to move her hips. Aemond grunts, moving his fingers down to circle her leaking hole, the tip of his middle finger pressing in slowly.

As he presses the digit fully inside her, she presses her teeth into the nape of his neck, muffling her cry as he finally allows her to move her hips. He moans softly, grunting out her name at the feel of her bite, and she can feel something hard against her lower stomach, burning as it presses itself more to her. Tears spring to the corners of her starry eyes, tongue coming out once more to lick at the stinging bite mark she left, before resting her lips against him, panting. Her hips jolt upwards continuously, his name leaving her mouth like a prayer.

“Will you let me taste you?,” he nearly whines, rough voice cracking. His nose nudges against her temple. “Hm… ivestragī aōha dārilaros sylutegon ao, dōna riña.” (Let your prince taste you, sweet girl).

She gasps out, head nodding, though she’s not sure what she is agreeing to. Even so, she still wretches out, “y-yes.”

Aemond groans once more, pressing his lips to her forehead, before removing his fingers from her core. He’s quick to bend down on his knees, hands lifting up her skirts, dipping his head under the heavy fabric. She furrows her brows in confusion, but her question dies on her tongue as she feels his hot mouth press against her cunt, warm and wet. A strangled moan leaves her, and she throws her head back to stare up at the darkness above, lips parted as she gasps and whines. His tongue feels hot as it slips through her folds and circles her entrance, slurping up her arousal which practically pools out of her.

She can barely comprehend what is happening, her knees wobbly and her brain turned to mush, and all she can remember is his name. It leaves her lips like an incantation, continuously and fervently. Her hands try their best to gather her skirts, lifting them up and away from Aemond’s face, wishing to see him between her thighs. First, she spots a sliver of silver hair, and then, when she pulls the fabric back further, the rest of his head comes into view. His eye is closed, his focus solely on her cunt and how his tongue dips in and out of her. Fingers come up to rub at her once more, a deep grumble leaving him and vibrating through her core.

Something foreign begins to bubble up inside her, burning in its trail and cutting her open like a sharp sword. Her breath catches in her throat, chest heaving and heart stuttering against her ribcage, hips bucking up to chase the rising wave within her. Aemond flattens his tongue against her, another rumble leaving him, making her cry out. He opens his eye, staring up at her disheveled figure, his gaze molten and hungry. This look, and the feeling of him crooking a finger inside her once more, breaks her, and she moans and shudders, vision turning blurry as she’s pulled down under her cascading pleasure.

“Sȳz riña…” he groans, lapping up her essence as it flows out and onto his tongue. “Good fucking girl.”

Once she comes back down, she can barely keep standing, legs weakened and eyes heavy with sleepiness. Aemond stands, a satisfied hum leaving him as he pulls her against him, nose nuzzling in her hair. Instead of fear, she feels comfort as she rests in his arms, head resting on his chest, listening to his racing heartbeat. When he begins to trail kisses down her face, before capturing her lips with his own, she feels like swooning. Is this what she had been missing all along? Her betrothed… not someone to fear, but someone she could grow to love?

Aemond pulls away, fingers coming up to rest against her lips. “Taste yourself, dārilaros.” (Princess).

Timidly, she wraps her lips around his two digits, tongue cautious as it swirls around them. His gaze is dark as he watches her, and when he removes his fingers, he replaces them with his mouth, hot as it claims her own. On her hip, she can still feel that same stiffness against her, but she doesn’t question it as he finally steps away from her, a small smirk on his handsome face.

“In just a few days, we will be wed, my lady. When I take you to my bed, I will spend all night showing you why you shouldn’t fear me.”

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon

[pin-k-ink]

fever // kita shinsuke

tw ⇢ mutual pining, semi public, massaging, hair pulling, clit play, hand job, pussy job, grinding, no penetration, slight nipple play

wc ⇢ 4.5k

Kita exhaled a measured breath, carefully resting the well-worn volleyball in the ball cart before turning to survey the gym. Practice had concluded for the evening, but the scuffed hardwood floor still radiated a residual warmth reflecting the team's exertions.

One by one, his teammates had trickled out - the athletic club's locker room clearing out in a steady flow of rowdy jokes and towels slung over damp shoulders. The usual nightly exodus that Kita monitored with an accustomed stillness. All except for one person still diligently working off to the side, seemingly oblivious that she'd been left behind.

You.

Kita's eyes instinctively traced the familiar lines of your form as you bent with silent concentration, meticulously rolling up the vinyl court mats with deft motions. The oversized shirttails of Inarizaki's uniform bunched and strained across your shoulderblades with each controlled movement - the vibrant hue only accentuating how your cheeks still glowed faintly flushed from exertion.

Something he couldn't help noticing with each practice as of late. Along with the slight fraying at your ponytail's nape from repeatedly running hands through sweat-dampened strands. Or the shadows deepening beneath your eyes - barely perceptible markers of how heavy your work schedule as team manager had become.

Kita felt an unwitting tightness grip his diaphragm as he watched you tending to the equipment sweep - the final thankless task before being able to escape the gymnasium yourself. He should have been relieved that you exemplified such steadfast dedication to your duties. The sort of disciplined work ethic he strove to emblematize.

Yet lately, an encroaching sense of unease had begun creeping in whenever glimpsing how utterly depleted you seemed. Like a brilliant ember slowly being smothered to ashen burnout despite containing so much vital spark left to share.

Perhaps it was painfully selfish, but Kita couldn't bear the thought of that smoldering spark winking out entirely. Not when it represented one of the sole warmths capable of unraveling his own desperation to always remain rigidly compartmentalized.

With you, he could simply exist - shed of airtight expectations and the crushing weight of obligations. If only for fleeting moments that never felt sufficient to absorb your radiant presence fully.

The subversive thought prompted Kita to impulsively close the distance between you with his trademark eerily-silent footfalls. You didn't register his approach until he folded his tall frame into an easy crouch mere inches away - deft fingers automatically reaching to assist tucking in the mat's final corner.

"K-Kita!" You startled, clearly not expecting him to materialize so abruptly at your side after everyone else had vacated. "You shouldn't have to help with this, I'm-"

"Nearly finished for the evening?" His deep, quietly resonant timbre cut you off - not unkindly. Liquid mercury eyes remained focused on aligning the mat's edge as his elegant hands smoothed and secured it into a tidy roll. "Don't worry, I've been observing how diligently you've attended everything lately."

You opened your mouth to protest or express gratitude - he couldn't be certain which based on the fleeting chaos of micro-expressions flickering across your features. Kita determinedly avoided focusing too intently on your lovely face directly.

The subtle smatterings of flushed exertion dusting your cheekbones and nose were...disarmingly appealing enough without adding to his distraction.

Instead, he pressed on before you could formulate a reply.

"I've been meaning to suggest you join me on a retreat soon." Kita kept his tone was neutral as he began coiling the roll of mat beneath one arm, motioning with his chin that you should take the opposite end. "There are some hot springs out in Yufu that would be perfect for recharging and immersive meditation this time of year."

Rising to his full stature, Kita finally leveled his gaze directly upon you - absorbing the momentary wash of surprise and something deeper, more ruminative flickering across your expression. That familiar spark of warmth rekindling from its embered banked state as your eyes searched his with unspoken consideration.

"Think it over," he prompted softly, imperceptibly leaning in fractionally closer yet still maintaining a disciplined distance. "I imagine a night or two of solitary contemplation could benefit us both greatly."

The effluence of Kita's breath mingled with yours in corporeal plumes as you absorbed his pointed invitation - searching for any hint of ulterior suggestion laced through the polished veneer of his subtle words and movements. As always, he emitted an aura of pristine neutrality and understatement that skirted any tinge of impropriety.

But after sharing so many sidelong gazes, measured silences, and paradoxically-charged stillnesses over years of proximity...you thought you detected the barest kindling of something molten and incandescently profound burning behind his veneer. Something solely meant for your interpretation alone.

Still, you found yourself unable to voice anything beyond a mute nod of acceptance. Allowing the hushed ambiance to lapse back over your dual departures from the gymnasium - bodies and breath intermittent, but bound by currents vastly deeper than physical colocation.

All while Kita hid a barely-perceptible smile, finally allowing vindicated hope to unfurl within his rigorously tempered heart.

You couldn't shake the lingering pull of Kita's words - or the undercurrent of unspoken yearning that seemed to accent his otherwise placid invitation.

An overnight retreat to remote hot springs for "solitary contemplation"? On the surface, it sounded like precisely the sort of austerely philosophical overture one would expect from someone as rigorously self-actualized as Kita Shinsuke. And yet...

You found your focus fracturing at inopportune moments, always drifting back towards dissecting the implications of that loaded pause before he extended the invite. Or the infinitesimal dilation of his liquid mercury eyes while pinning you under that steadily smoldering regard.

Was it projection conjuring phantoms from your own long-repressed desires regarding Kita? Or had you genuinely glimpsed a simmering spark of something heated flaring beneath his meticulously-honed control?

The uncharacteristic lack of certainty dogged your heels through the ensuing days. Early dawn meditation circle followed by corralling rambunctious teammates - then practice regimens, followed by tight laps of individual training all bled into a seamless panorama of duties. The steady, soothing routine only interrupted when Kita unexpectedly rematerialized during quiet pockets in the schedule.

He never overtly revisited the topic, yet his presence often carried the static charge of unfinished business hovering in the air between you. Until one evening following clean-up, you found Kita in one of the secluded ante-rooms clearly waiting for you.

"We haven't spoken much since I extended my invitation," he began without preamble, back to you while sorting equipment racks. "Have you given any thought to joining me in Yufu?"

You hesitated fractionally, still processing his abrupt resurgence of the topic. "I have...though I'm not certain an overnight retreat is advisable given our respective commitments here."

Kita hummed thoughtfully, finally slanting his chiseled profile towards you. "We could arrange coverage easily enough if we stagger our departure and return appropriately."

Pinned beneath his steadily considering gaze, you felt your breath stalling in your chest. As always, Kita projected a facade of crisp professionalism and equanimity. Yet there was an infinitesimal brightness glittering in those steely eyes boring into yours that seemed to make an unspoken entreaty all its own.

"Getting away from this environment - even briefy - can provide incomparable perspective," he continued in that baseline timbre of his roughened with quiet conviction. "Having you along as well would only serve to deepen the immersion and focus..."

Kita trailed off, expression slipping seamlessly back into that practiced vacancy masking depths you'd always longed to plumb. The muscle in his jaw ticked faintly as he averted his eyes - immediately busying his elegant hands with some inane reorganizing of janitorial supplies as if chastising himself for even broaching the subject so ardently.

"At any rate," he muttered, cotton towel whisking across metal handles with percussive strokes that sliced the thickening silence. "Consider it, if you're able to manage the time away from your regular responsibilities here."

The minute shift of his shoulders spoke volumes - Kita already attempting to insulate himself from whatever seedling longing had temporarily unfurled. You found yourself rooted in place, drinking in each precise movement and lilting cadence from your teammate as if reinscribing them all into muscle memory.

You quietly ached witnessing him wrestle his yearning back beneath that impeccable veneer of restraint. As if fearing you'd shy from the vulnerability of peering too unflinchingly into the blazing intensity you knew burned beneath his stillness.

Before Kita could retreat fully behind his customary distant stoicism, you jolted into decisive action.

"Let's go." The words tumbled out on a hushed yet insistent exhalation, stalling his movements entirely. "Even a solitary night or two away could provide useful perspective, as you said."

Molten mercury eyes flared towards you in naked astonishment before Kita regained his composure with a subtle dip of his chin. The slightest softening warmed his aristocratic features and you had to clench your palms against a sudden trembling.

"Very well," he replied, somehow managing to project equanimity despite his rattled stillness. "I'll handle the arrangements and preparations for us both. Perhaps you might contemplate the value of mindful solitude in the interim."

Then Kita slanted you a heavy-lidded look from beneath his lashes - one you felt scorching across every exposed inch of your rapidly overheating skin. There was no mistaking the lush promise and simmering intent blazing behind that stare before he refocused with visible effort.

"It may prove...deeply illuminating for the both of us," Kita murmured in a voice dropping into a register you felt viscerally ribboning up your spine.

You could only give a tremulous nod and fight for steady inhales as he brushed past you with a lingering brush of warm, mint-tinged air. Already feeling imperiled by the thought of "solitary contemplation" with Kita amongst such remotely intimate seclusion.

Not that you retained any willpower left to contemplate refusing. Denial was no longer an option once the spark between you had finally ignited into blazing reality.

The journey to Yufu passed in a reverent kind of silence, occasionally punctuated by Kita offering hushed commentary about the significance of hot spring bathing in Japanese culture. You absorbed the lulling timbre of his voice like a tonic - steadying your thrill-hazed thoughts from spiraling too recklessly.

Because despite maintaining impeccable discretion on its surface, this was unmistakably an intimate occasion. Just the two of you sequestered at an exclusive onsen ryokan tucked into the densely forested mountains. Primed to shed societal pretext entirely for anonymous oversight and ritual indulgence.

You attempted not to dwell overlong on how deliriously tempting the concept felt after so many years orbiting Kita's gravitational pull. Only to have that inexorable tide abruptly draw both your paths into shared seclusion.

Upon arrival, Kita ushered you to separate bathing pavilions with a pointed look and reassurance he would join you once you'd settled into your appointed suite. You moved through the ceremonial disrobings and ablutions in a daze - trying to center yourself in the austere surroundings and reminder of pursuing spiritual clarity.

Yet the rituals only conjured visceral recollections of sharing sidelong glances with Kita across steam-shrouded surfaces. Of his lithe, powerful form materializing from mineral-rich clouds with rivulets trailing down the corded arcs of his back.

You shuddered and submerged yourself fully in the blessedly scalding waters, desperate to purge such profane imagery before he returned to your company. Only emerging once confident your meditative breathing exercises had steadied your thrumming pulse into an outwardly composed state.

When Kita did rejoin you, swathed in the facility's uniform yukata robe, you felt your arousal flare with alarming intensity all over again.

He looked inexplicably, disarmingly beautiful like this. The intricate patterns of his robe accentuated the rugged slashes of his jawline and cheekbones - simultaneously expressing delicacy and intense masculinity with each meticulously unhurried motion. You froze, drinking in each weighted pause and steady sweep of his mercurial gaze taking you in as he settled onto the submerged bench facing you.

"These hot spring waters make me want to open up my thoughts to you," Kita's timbre sliced through the fragile quiet first - sotto yet arresting. "It seems like you have a lot on your mind too."

You swallowed hard, determined not to spiral into incoherence from the intimate double meaning you detected woven through his mild inquiry.

"Lately I've been wondering if my calm outer appearance truly reflects my inner ideals," you murmured, gaze locked onto the elegant flex of Kita's hands smoothing the embroidered lapels over his sternum. "Or if I've just become too closed off."

A flicker of silent understanding passed over Kita's inscrutable features as he absorbed your veiled confession. The water sloshed gently between you as he shifted infinitesimally closer - near enough for his crisply grounding cedar and green tea scent to wreath around you.

"Staying calm on the outside is meant to cultivate inner peace, not be an end goal itself," he replied with that deceptively mild directness you found so innately compelling. "Avoiding the truth out of propriety leads to stagnation, not enlightenment."

His eyes locked weightily onto yours in silent emphasis - a scintillating undercurrent seeming to suffuse the heated waters as your lungs labored for air under such singularly focused intensity.

"I've let some important truths go unspoken for too long," Kita continued in a cadence stripping away several layers of subtext until only rawly naked honesty remained. "Maintaining decorum at the expense of serenity has done me a disservice, and you as well."

You drank in each word, simultaneously intoxicated and floored by the profundity of Kita's confession unfolding with such poised grace. Somehow, he managed to transmute the insulated world of the ryokan's dimly lit bathing chamber into a microcosmic suspended orbit - just the two of you drifting closer and unfurling truths that illuminated fathomless new expanses.

Yet when he leveled his piercing, elemental focus directly onto you next - all pretenses and protective veneers abruptly fell away in his piercing intensity.

"I brought you out here for unforgivably selfish reasons," Kita stated quietly yet with smoldering, ruthless conviction laced through each syllable. "I wanted to be alone with you…to finally confess my true feelings for you without restraint or judgment, even if it crosses boundaries we've danced around."

The naked admission hung between you in a burgeoning swell of heated electricity. You struggled to accurately process the enormity of his pronouncement - much less render coherent response beyond widening eyes and a sharp inhalation.

Kita watched the maelstrom of shock, possibilty, and thoroughly naked yearning play out across your features with rapt absorption. Until finally, the last of his veneers fell away like cresting waves finally succumbing to the inevitability of the tide.

He pivoted from his seated position until planted solidly before you - steely eyes transfixed on drinking in every micro shift of emotion unspooling across your face. Then with maddening unhurried reverence, Kita extended a dripping hand to chart your jaw's contours.

The lightest graze of his fingertips seared your thundering pulse like a brand, dizzying your senses entirely. But Kita didn't relent in his sensual exploration - tracing the sloped curves and hollows of your neck and decolletage with a worshipful sort of absorption.

"I'm tired of denying how much I want to know every inch of you," he confessed in a gravelly rasp drowning in shameless, smoldering yearning. Lips brushed the hollow of your clavicle in a searing half-kiss as you shuddered helplessly. "I've spent too long not allowing myself to feel your body against me."

Callouses dragged along deliriously sensitive planes in his wake, kindling arousal into a molten, all-consuming blaze within the cradle of your increasingly trembling thighs. All pretense of restraint or detached contemplation had thoroughly dissolved - replaced by Kita's absolute immersion into mapping the intimate topography of your mottled blush spreading across exposed flesh.

Your body instinctively leaned into his exploratory touches, silently begging for more sustained contact in the wake of his hushed revelation. Even as your mind whirled, Kita proceeded with hushed focus and purpose - rendering you increasingly pliant putty under the spellbinding magic of his undivided attention.

When his mouth slanted across yours in a searing, openmouthed clash, it felt like the final surrender to unchecked truth. Years of repressed longing and carefully maintained discretion ignited into pure sensual freefall.

Kita groaned harshly, swallowing your ragged gasp as your arcs instinctively strained for impossible closeness. He pressed inexorably tighter - one palm slipping along the jut of your hipbone beneath the concealing waters in a consuming caress before gently turning your body around.

Kita's calloused hands glided over your slick skin, the heated water allowing his fingers to effortlessly explore the curves of your body. He started at your shoulders, firmly kneading the tense muscles there as you melted back against the bath's edge with a soft sigh.

"Relax," he murmured, the rumbling timbre of his voice surrounding you. "Let me take care of you."

You obliged, going pliant under his attentions. His strong hands worked methodically downward, thumbs digging deliciously into the knots of your upper back. Kita's motions were deliberate yet unhurried, as if committing every plane and dip of your flesh to memory through touch alone.

When he reached your lower back, you arched involuntarily, pushing your body more fully into his roaming palms. A soft sound escaped your parted lips at the change of angle, the new tension in your muscles screaming for his expert pressure.

Kita leaned in closer until his broad chest brushed your back, the heat of his skin raising goosebumps along your arms. His deft fingers danced lower, kneading the swell of your hips, the crease of your thighs. Each touch ignited sparks that rapidly stoked into a burning need for more contact, more friction.

"Does that feel good?" Kita's raspy murmur fanned across the nape of your neck, making you shiver. You could only nod, rendered incoherent by the arousal slowly engulfing you.

One hand dipped between your thighs, parting them gently. Your breath hitched as he traced the length of your folds with a single fingertip, drawing an achingly slow line up to your clit. The slightest graze had you keening, hips canting toward his touch.

"I've wanted to touch you for so long," Kita confessed, his other hand sliding up to cup your breast. The rough pad of his thumb rubbed against the stiff peak, eliciting a soft cry from you. "Every time I saw you working so hard, I imagined how I'd take care of you."

"Shin..." You couldn't summon any words beyond his name, the sensations overwhelming your ability to form coherent thoughts. His finger pressed down against your swollen clit, drawing tight circles that had you panting and squirming against him.

Kita's breath ghosted across your throat, the warmth and tickle adding another layer of sensation to the fire he'd started. Your head lolled against his shoulder, exposing the delicate expanse of your neck to him.

He took full advantage, nipping and sucking at the flushed skin until a constellation of red marks bloomed in his wake. You could feel the heat radiating from him, his cock straining against the small of your back, the tension in his muscles signaling his own barely-contained lust.

But Kita remained focused on you, his hand working between your thighs in steady motions. He seemed to read the slightest cues of your body, adjusting the speed and pressure of his strokes until he'd reduced you to a quivering mess.

Every nerve ending felt electrified, pleasure building at the base of your spine, spreading throughout your entire body. You ground shamelessly against his palm, desperate for release. Kita's fingers slid easily along your soaked slit, the friction exactly what you needed to tip you over the edge.

A shudder wracked your frame, legs clamping around his hand as you came with a wordless cry. Pleasure crashed through you, white-hot and all-consuming. Distantly, you heard Kita groan, felt the hardness of his cock twitching against you, but it all seemed secondary to the overwhelming euphoria gripping you.

Finally, the aftershocks subsided, leaving you feeling sated and boneless. Kita's touch lingered, teasing lightly along your overly-sensitive flesh, his mouth trailing tender kisses along the slope of your neck.

You slumped further against his chest, breathing heavily. After a moment, Kita pulled his hand away, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against him. You could feel his erection digging into your back, but he made no move to relieve himself, instead simply holding you close.

The realization that he'd brought you out here specifically to pleasure you sent a rush of affection coursing through you. You twisted around until you were facing him, taking in his flushed cheeks and dilated pupils.

"Thank you," you whispered, leaning in to capture his lips in a kiss. He tasted faintly sweet, the mineral tang of the hot springs still lingering. Kita met your movements eagerly, his hands skimming up and down your back.

You let the kiss linger, losing yourself in the slide of his mouth against yours. His touch was unhurried, almost lazy, like he had all the time in the world to explore your lips, your tongue, the sensitive underside of your jaw.

A quiet whimper escaped you as his fingers brushed the underside of your breasts. Your own hands wandered over the broad expanse of his chest, tracing the firm contours of his pectorals and abdomen. The way his muscles tensed and flexed beneath your fingertips was addictive, and you found yourself wanting to touch every inch of his sculpted body.

Finally, you broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to look him in the eye. His irises were nearly swallowed by his pupils, dark with lust.

You felt a renewed stirring of arousal at the thought of bringing him pleasure, of watching him fall apart beneath you.

"I want to touch you," you breathed, letting your fingers drift lower, ghosting across the defined lines of his pelvic bone. Kita's gaze burned into yours, his breathing coming heavier.

"You don't have to," he murmured, even as his cock twitched at the prospect. You grinned, palming the thick length of him, relishing his sharp intake of breath.

"But I want to," you replied, squeezing his shaft lightly. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, jaw clenched as he fought to regain control. The sight of him losing his composure, of knowing that you were the cause, sent a rush of power surging through you.

Kita opened his mouth, no doubt to argue, but you cut him off with another squeeze. He bit his lip, hips bucking into your touch. You grinned, running your thumb over the sensitive head of his cock.

"Lie back," you ordered, and he obeyed, sinking onto the stone ledge at the edge of the bath. You shifted positions, straddling his legs and bracing yourself against his muscular thighs.

His eyes locked onto yours as you began stroking his length, slow and firm. He groaned, eyelids fluttering, a faint blush spreading across his high cheekbones. The sight of him laid out before you, completely vulnerable, sent another pulse of arousal through you.

You kept the rhythm steady, gauging his reactions and adjusting accordingly. Every twitch, every soft moan, had you aching for more. But you wanted to draw this out, to savor the moment.

His head dropped back against the stone, eyes closing as his hips began to rock into your motions. His breaths came in ragged pants, muscles tensing and releasing. You could tell he was getting close, could feel his cock swelling in your hand.

Suddenly, his eyes snapped open, and his hands grasped your wrists, stilling your movements.

"Wait," he gasped, chest heaving. You paused, watching his expression intently. After a moment, he loosened his grip, guiding your hands off him and settling them on his stomach instead.

"Not like this," he murmured, sitting up and shifting you onto his lap, your thighs splayed wide around his hips. His cock pressed against your inner thigh, and you ached to sink onto him, to feel him fill you completely.

But he simply held you, gazing at you with an expression of awe and adoration. The intensity of his stare, the reverence in his touch, was intoxicating. Your breath hitched, and you leaned forward, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss.

Kita wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His lips parted, allowing your tongue to slip inside and deepen the kiss. You moaned, rocking your hips against him, reveling in the friction.

You felt his hands slide down to your ass, pulling you more firmly against him. He guided the movement, thrusting against you, his cock sliding along your soaked folds. Each pass sent a shockwave of pleasure through you, and you found yourself clinging to him, grinding down on his shaft.

He buried his face in your neck, breath hot against your skin. You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging lightly. His grip on your hips tightened, and you felt his cock twitch.

"Do that again," he groaned, voice muffled by your neck. You obliged, yanking his head back and exposing the column of his throat. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, and you couldn't resist dragging your tongue along his pulse point.

His hips jerked, and he let out a guttural moan, low and deep. The sound went straight to your core, and you found yourself grinding harder, chasing your release. Kita's breathing was ragged, his cock throbbing between your legs.

You could tell he was close, could feel him teetering on the edge. His fingers dug into your hips, holding you steady as he thrust against you. You raked your nails down his back, earning a sharp gasp from him.

The tension coiling within you was unbearable, and you knew it wouldn't take much more to send you over the edge. As if sensing this, Kita's fingers found your nipples, pinching hard. You cried out, arching into him, your orgasm ripping through you.

Kita followed shortly after, his cock pulsing as he came with a hoarse cry. His grip on you loosened, his movements slowing. He panted, pressing his forehead to yours. You cupped his cheek, running your thumb along his cheekbone.

You felt utterly boneless, spent. But there was a warmth spreading through you, a sense of contentment that was unlike anything you'd ever experienced before. Kita looked utterly blissed out, his eyes half-lidded, his expression relaxed.

You brushed a lock of damp hair off his forehead, admiring his profile. He cracked one eye open, gazing at you with affection.

"Are you ready for bed?" he asked softly, his thumb rubbing circles on your hip. You nodded, and he smiled, placing a chaste kiss on your lips before lifting you off his lap and standing.

You let him lead you from the baths, exhaustion beginning to creep in. As he helped you dress, you wondered if the night was truly over. The thought of falling asleep next to him was strangely comforting.

You climbed into bed, watching as he shed his robe and settled beside you. The warmth of his body was soothing, and you nestled closer, draping an arm across his waist. He sighed, pulling you against him.

You lay like that for some time, just listening to the sound of his breathing, feeling the rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek. Finally, sleep claimed you, and you drifted off into the deepest slumber you'd had in months.

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader smut #kita x reader smut #kita shinsuke smut #kita shinsuke x reader smut #kita shinsuke x reader #kita x reader #kita smut #kita shinsuke

[wooahaes]

party of two

pairing: non-idol!joshua x fem!reader

genre: fluff. established relationship. silly fic <3

warnings: food mentions. reader having a lonely childhood/teenage years. mentions of reader being in therapy pre-fic. joshua hong being a silly, silly man. hints at suggestive stuff post-fic, but it's left vague. slow dancing to jopping <3

word count: ~1.1k

daisy's notes: ya think ya big boi throwing three stacks imma show you how to ball you a mismatch opinionated but im always spittin straight facts

The last thing you expected to come home to were streamers, balloons, and everything you’d need for someone’s birthday party.

Immediately, panic set in first. There didn’t seem to be anyone else in the apartment (and, truly, unless they were hiding in the bedroom or the bathroom, you would know), and Joshua had never gone behind your back to do something you asked him not to do before… But the decorations point to the party you asked him not to throw. Last year had been nice enough, sure, but you just wanted a quiet day with your boyfriend. Would it be worth it to step out and call him, just to clarify? 

Joshua walked past the entryway, stopping when he saw you were standing here. “Oh. Shit, you’re home early.” 

Forcing a smile, you just stepped over to slip out of your shoes and into your house slippers. “Mmhm. I was supposed to leave sooner, actually, but an emergency came up.” 

Joshua immediately set down the folded banner, snagging a party hat as he made his way over to you. “Well,” he said, stretching the string so that he could carefully put the hat on you. “We can party early, then.”

“Party?” You gave him a suspicious look.

“Party of two,” he booped your nose. “You said you didn’t have a lot of parties as a kid, so… When you told me to plan something fun, I thought we could do something silly.” 

Something about that made your heart swell in your chest. You’d told Joshua that you’d been a lonely kid (and teenager), rarely invited to parties and almost never having your own. It had messed with you growing up, sure, but you’d managed. Even though it felt silly to admit you’d gone to therapy over it, Joshua hadn’t judged you. He’d listened to your tales of attachment issues and other struggles carefully, nodding along and admiring your growth as a person. It hadn’t been easy, and it netted you some struggles with having healthy relationships in college, but you came out the other side with a new circle of friends who cared for you as much as you cared for them, and a healthy relationship with Joshua built on trust and communication. Still, it was nice to have him there to listen when you just needed to rant about how bullshit your youth had been. A week or so ago, it had been the realization that one of your birthday parties as a kid had been shared with a friend… who was probably the only reason people came.

“I don’t think that’s true,” Joshua had said after you finished your rant. “You were a kid. You said people liked you enough even if you weren’t invited to stuff.”

It was nice to have someone there who could ground you when you were getting too upset over things. Even now, as he stood before you with a stupid party hat sitting lopsided on his head, he’d taken your hand in his own. His thumb ran over your knuckles, watching as you looked past him to get a better view of the decorated living room. It’s all gold and shades of pink, and he just grinned at you.

“It’s all the store had today,”  he admitted. “I meant to go sooner, y’know, but… Kinda had some other things I needed to get in order.” 

Joshua took your other hand, swinging them as you finally melted a little and smiled at him. A party for the just two of you was particularly cheesy, but if it was with Joshua, you’d be happy to attend. “So…” You stepped forward. “What are we gonna do at this party?”

His gaze flickered down to your lips for just a moment. Yet the moment you leaned in, he reached up to press his fingers against them, stopping you in your tracks. “Keep it PG,” he teased with a mischievous grin you wanted to kiss off of him. “PG-13, if you have to.” He chuckled, kissing your cheek. But instead of pulling away immediately, he leaned in, breath hot against your ear, “we can do more later, if you want.” 

No promises made, though: you’d have to see how you were feeling then. But you did take the chance to press a quick peck against his cheek before he could move away. Joshua guided you into the apartment, already rattling off about all of the plans he’d made. He’d ordered a tiny cake for the two of you to share, bought your favorite flavor of ice cream, bought pizza to really hammer home the idea of this being a casual party (not that you minded: the two of you cooked for each other often enough, getting takeout was a welcome break). He made no promises of party games or a plethora of gifts for you to unwrap… But he did pull out his phone, connected to the bluetooth speaker and turned up music—loud enough for the two of you, but not enough to bother the neighbors now. 

“Well?” He extended his hands to you again. “Do you wanna dance?”

Joshua Hong knew you couldn’t dance for shit. It was one of the things he pointed out to you when you were half-asleep one night and he drunkenly needed to tell you the little things he loved most about you. He said you were as graceful as a baby deer, but he loved it when you felt safe enough to be silly around him.

So you just accepted his hands. “I’d love to.” 

He just smiled at you before pulling you in, chest to chest, as he began to sway with you to music that was far from swayable. “No, you wouldn’t.”

You snorted in response. “Yeah… I wouldn’t,” you reached up, draping your arms around his neck. The sounds of Taeyong’s rap in the background nearly made you laugh. “But I like holding you.” 

“Ulterior motives,” he hummed. “By the way… I was thinking… For our wedding song—”

“Joshua.” The two of you weren’t even engaged yet, but you already knew what he was thinking.

He gasped in mock offense. “Are you telling me you don’t want to walk down the aisle to Mark’s rap in this song?”

It earned a real, warm laugh from you, and the look of pride on Joshua’s face told you that his job was done. He’d let you go soon and dance with you properly… But for now, he’d continue to sway with you, chatting about your day as he admired you a little longer.

taglist: @twancingyunhao@wonuziex@synthetickitsune@porridgesblog@staranghae @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny @bewoyewo

#wooahaes.fic #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagine #svt x reader #svt imagine #seventeen x you #svt x you #joshua hong fluff #joshua x reader #joshua fluff #joshua hong x reader #joshua x you #wooahaes.24

[heevanly]

LATE NIGHT TALKS : LEE HEESEUNG (이희승)

𝐬yn. : being the host of a college late night radio talk show was a passion project since freshman year of college, but now as a senior, y/n hadn't expected the fame it brought to herself on campus... but maybe it was the recent string of murders that caused more tuning in than ever seen before.

𝐰arnings. / 𝐭ags. : (18+!). small series. gore. horror. college au. similar to a murder mystery au. swearing. mentions of wanting to vomit (no vomiting occurs). humor. mildly suggestive. no smut. main character death. side character death. heeseung and jay are manipulators. jay and heeseung have a small argument. enha members as main / side characters. lsf members as side characters. ive members as side characters. pet names used mockingly (baby, sweetheart, honey). more to be added as parts come out.

𝐧ote. : warnings are just overall, not everything mentioned is in this part in particular (like 98% is tho). also welcome to my first fully published work, i hope you guys like it. everything is also in lowercase, not sure why but that's just how things ended up happening haha.

𝐭aglist. : @livsateez @velvethana @ilyjxdz

© @heevanly 2024 | do NOT copy, plagiarize, reupload, or steal my works.

WC : 6.7k

Part Two. (TBD)

walking towards the music building on your campus was always the worst trek for you. it was the furthest building from your on-campus apartment and it was a combination of uphill walking, stairs, and loose gravel sidewalk that for some reason the school had yet to get fixed. you kick a loose rock and grumble incoherently, watching the rock hit the bottom stair leading up to the building. letting out a sigh you begin walking up the last of the stairs that leads towards the building. 

the night was serene at least, a bit chilly but it was still early spring, you’re just glad the hoodie you’re currently wearing is enough to block out the wind blowing past every so often. with the last bit of sunlight fading behind the horizon, you scan your fob into the building’s sensor, unlocking the doors.

a small noise crunches somewhere from behind you and your head immediately turns in the direction of the sound yet nothing is there. eyebrows furrowing, you rescan the fob and head inside the building shaking your head, “i hate walking at night, curse heeseung and his off-campus apartment, if only he’d pick me up.”

you head into the hallway that holds the elevators that lead into the basement. it’s never been the most ideal location to record, but it offered a few rooms that had equipment and space you needed to borrow.

after the trip down from the elevator you walk into the room the four of you have continuously used for the radio show. setting your bag down you start cleaning up the space, trashing old papers left behind, wiping the tables, doing simple tests on the mics to just make sure they work, overall just getting the place ready. you leave jay and jake's stuff mainly untouched, as they have their own way of setting up the lights, mic sensitivities, and what all else.

the door opens up behind you as you continue to do tasks around the rooms, not bothering to look at the door, you glance at the clock instead, “hey guys, you’re a bit earlier than when you normally get here.. we still got an hour.. but since you’re here could you,” your voice quiets down as you turn to address whoever was behind you directly, however no one is in the room.

“what the hell,” you mutter out scratching your head, “i swear i heard the door open.”

you quickly scan the room you’re in, checking under the table to see if one of the four decided to fool around a bit. seeing no one under there you move to the other room where jay and jake usually stay in, but no one is seen there either. a sense of unease begins to grow in your stomach but you decide to keep yourself busy by finishing up tasks in the room. printing out the schedule and loose script for the recording, you skim through, making sure you didn’t leave anything out and once satisfied you set the schedules and script in heeseung’s and your spot.

the clock reads 9:27 pm and you sit down on the couch, getting comfortable, getting ready for the other three to walk in at any moment. your phone rings and seeing jake’s contact pop up, you answer.

“hey jake, what’s up, did something happen?”

jake clears his throat on the other side, “y/n! glad you answered, couldn’t get a hold of heeseung, but i told jay already- wait is he there yet?”

“er, no.. well at least i don’t think so.” you scan the room once before playing with the charms on your nails.

“what..?” jake asks, confusion in his tone, “you don’t think so? y/nnie i hate to break it to ya but i think you’d know if someone was in the room with you.”

you let out a puff of air out through your noise in fake annoyance, “yes i’m well aware of that jake sim. but i heard the door open up behind me a little bit ago and i figured it was one of you guys stopping in a little early but no one was there so..”

“well.. i’m sure it’s just your pretty little mind playin tricks then, anyways jay should be there soon though, he left the flat a bit ago- oh right! since he isn’t there i guess i should tell you. i can’t make it tonight, forgot i overscheduled myself with my plans so i have somewhere else i need to be tonight.”

“what? jake why didn’t you say anything earlier today? i mean it’s fine, i got the room mainly all ready anyway but a warning other than being like five minutes before you get here would’ve been nice.” you click your tongue in annoyance to further drive the point in. frankly, you didn’t mind that much but teasing jake a little bit was something you couldn’t pass up.

you hear jake give a dejected sigh and stifle a laugh, “ok listen i know i know, i’ll make it up to you i promise but just this night i can’t make it alright?”

“yeah yeah, you have fun with your plans or whatever.”

jake chuckles, “oh i will, see ya y/n.”

the call ends just as jay walks in, he gives you a little wave and sets his stuff by yours, “here like always, before everyone else is.”

you drum your nails along the couch’s arm rest as you watch jay get situated in the room, “someone has to get everything ready, and it sure ain’t gonna be jake with the way he bailed on us tonight. and we’re lucky if heeseung shows up 10 minutes before we go on air.”

jay lets put a small laugh, “he told you he’d be gone? thought i was gonna have to be the one to tell you.”

“nah he told me, think he’s trying to get a hold of hee right now too.”

“eugh, good luck to him then.”

you raise your eyebrows in understanding, “yeah.. anyhow i printed out the schedules and cleaned everything up so..”

jay sits in his seat and turns to you, “you emailed me my schedule right?”

“yup, did it before i left my apartment.”

“perfect, alright you go get set up and i’ll test your mic and make sure feedback is clear.” upon hearing jay’s words you get up from the couch and move to sit down in your chair, jay gives you a thumbs up and you test your microphone, “test test test.”

jay fiddles around with a few notches and motions with his hand to try once again, “test test test.” you repeat into the microphone, which you receive a thumbs up and lean in your seat. all thats left was to wait for heeseung.

a few minutes later and he walks in, dragging his bag behind him, “woah dude you look like shit.” jay says, looking heeseung up and down.

“this assignment for prof kim is killing me,” heeseung groans out, exasperated, “i swear she wants me dead.”

your jaw drops slightly at the look of heeseung, “have you slept recently?”

heeseung drops his bag with everyone else’s, “just did, i was supposed to work on the assignment, fell asleep, woke up and sprinted over here.”

his hair was all tousled up and his shirt was slightly stained but his jacket managed to cover most of it up and his pants looked as if in some places dust or dirt got smeared onto it.

jay does one more look at heeseung before turning around in his seat, “alright well man, go get situated next, we’ll test your mic.”

heeseung simply nods before walking to his seat next, once jay gives him the go ahead he speaks up in the microphone, “test test.” jay gives the thumbs up to heeseung and you look up at the clock, 9:58 pm, almost time to go live.

you turn to heeseung, “you sure you’re alright? if you’re that tired i can handle doing a night alone.”

hee gives you a small smile, “promise im all good, that nap was like.. one of those ones where you wake up not knowing who you are or where you are kind, so i’m like.. oddly rejuvenated right now. think i could even fight off a werewolf and win.”

blinking once and then twice you look at him and slowly nod your head, “oohhhhhh kay mister tough guy.. whatever you say..”

“you not believing me is not very kind you know.” heeseung frowns, his lips forming a pout.

“i know, oh-! we’re going live.. 3.. 2..”

"welcome welcome welcome toooo SCU 101.85, you’re currently tuning in to the 10 o’clock pm talk show. i’m your host y/n and i’m here with my co-host..” you turn away from the microphone and glance at your co-host, lee heeseung.

“heeseung.” he speaks up into his microphone, shuffling a few of the papers around.

“and it’s currently a friday night, it’s 67 degrees out with a small breeze too so make sure you wear that jacket!” you chirp.

heeseung snorts and you pass him a look which he returns with a shrug, “you just sound chipper.. s’all.”

“ah.. well our ratings have been going up again.. it’s better than we’ve been seeing these past four months.. so.”

the past four months have been rather difficult for you and heeseung and the radio show. when you started this project sophomore year, it had just been you and your roommate kim chaewon, your ratings were steady in the beginning but had started declining after two months, which made your at the time co-host and roommate, quit. you don’t blame her, you nearly stopped too, which was before heeseung hit you up asking if you still needed another co-host.

accepting his help was the best thing you had done, his roommates jake and jay were all about the technical jargon behind running a radio show, which the reasoning was apparently the three had thoughts about starting a podcast but couldn’t get the timing right to actually get it started, so here they were willing to help you out.

production took off and the four of you found yourselves seeing steady viewers and got to even open a talk line, which was a segment that both you and heeseung took seriously, finding fun in chatting with anonymous students with various complaints they had of others, professors, relationships, or whatever else going on in their lives.

then, out of nowhere four months ago, the viewers started thinning out, causing your small team of four’s good feelings to falter. having been used to success it was shocking to be randomly met with a hard wall and seemingly, no way of getting out.

heeseung and your’s efforts were all in vain as you tried advertising the radio talk show, you had chaewon talk to her friends about spreading the show, heeseung talked to about it to his other friends and also had them spread the word. jake would mention it at his part time job, and jay even mentioned it at a small on-campus event, which he texted that he was never doing again out of sheer embarrassment.

heeseung hums, “well.. i could imagine people have been feeling a bit safer because of us, due to…” he trails off.

right, there's been a few recent deaths that have plagued not only your campus, but the town. you claim they’re very obviously murders while heeseung’s been claiming it’s been various unfortunate accidents. so far the death toll has hit only four, two on campus, one at a campus nearby, and one on the outskirts of town.

“the murders.” you finish his sentence off, gravelly.

heeseung rolls his eyes, but remembers that the listeners can’t actually see that, “you’re so obsessed with these being murders,” he teases.

“well.. it’s quite obvious, no?” you ask, tilting your head a little bit.

“ehh, i wouldn’t really say so, besides the two on campus cause they were ruled as a murder-suicide. regardless that was two months ago and the one at KTU was concluded to be an unfortunate accident.. shit what did they say about how she died again?” heeseung racks his brain, trying to remember how the girl from KTU died two weeks ago.

you scatter your papers around, “wasn’t it something about a lab issue..? their school got to close down because of it, that’s.. uh.. kind of all i remember about that.”

“oh you’re going to hell, haven’t you been following this whole thing since the murder-suicide on campus..?” heeseung laughs loudly and you slump in your chair, embarrassment flooding your system.

you sit back up and clear your throat, “in my defense..”

heeseung accusing points at you, “you! don’t have one.”

“pause, yes i do! rude…. my defense is that the fourth one’s been throwing me off with this whole thing, that i focused a little less on the third girl.” you huff out.

the fourth death was the weirdest in the whole thing so far, it happened a few days ago and it’s been the only one where the person involved wasn’t in the same age range and died supposedly.. well.. naturalistically. it had been a middle aged man, who was on his way home from work. apparently the report and the news claimed his tire gotten flat and when he had gotten out to check on it, he had been mauled by a pack of wolves wandering through. 

the police and how they concluded it just didn’t make sense to you, you stayed up for two days trying to determine it all. first, wolves hadn’t been sighted in that area for several months so a random pack coming through didn’t make sense. second, the blood inside the car, how did it even manage to get in there if the man was supposedly outside? the third rea-

heeseung snaps his fingers to try and get your attention back to the talk show, “hey, y/n, quit thinking about it, you’re just gonna make yourself paranoid.. or worse.. really obsessive over this.”

you sigh, biting at your lip as you mull over his words, “my bad, i just need to stay up on all this, our viewers need the information, they deserve the best after all.”

“and the best of the best is from two college seniors..?” heeseung raises an eyebrow.

“absolutely!” you respond, “we’re the only ones giving multiple sides to these events and ways to stay safe.”

“i’m sure the news have been doin all that too though.”

“pff, news schmooze,” you wave your hand at heeseung, “college students don’t care about tuning into the morning news before classes or turning the evening news on, we’re a source of entertainment AND murder mystery, and that’s what eats up.” 

“you’re greedy, y/n, soo greedy.” heeseung shoots a grin your way, a way to let you know he doesn’t mean it.

trying to stop a grin from making its way on your face, you roll your eyes, “oh suck my dick lee heeseung.” 

“gladlyyy..” he sings out, wiggling his eyebrows and chuckles into his microphone.

“you’re a freak..” you gather your papers back up and glance up at the clock, 10:26 pm, time to open up the first talk line segment of the night.

you give a small nod towards heeseung and he nods back and clears his throat, “well well well SCU you are listening on 101.85 and it’s rolling up to 10:30 pm, we got a two minute sponsor for y’all and when we come back live, our callers will be up discussin’ random whatever with us. give us a call at [phone] and see if you’re lucky enough. again that is [phone]. see you soon.”

both you and heeseung give a thumbs up to the room in front of you and jay switches your sets off, rolling the sponsor. a few seconds pass and before you’re able to turn to heeseung to just casually chat, the switchboard for the phone calls light up, more so than you’ve ever seen before.

turning to heeseung you give him a look of wonder, his eyebrows are furrowed as if hes wondering the same thing you are, why are there so many callers tonight? jay clicks off the sponsor and puts on a jazzy song before stepping into the room, “what’s up with the callers tonight?”

heeseung looks up at jay, “not sure bro, we’re just as confused as you are. we haven’t seen anything like this before.”

the calls keep coming through, lighting up the board until nearly all have popped up, indicating that people are on the line waiting to chat.

jay takes a glance at his set up and back at the two of you and the board, “well you guys got about a minute before we go on air, can’t keep them waiting for too long so just…” he sighs and runs a hand through his hair, “just… i suppose keep their talking segments shorter..? man i wish jake was here right now he could help weed through the callers with me on my end.”

heeseung raises an eyebrow at jay, “he’s not here today at all? i thought he was just late?”

“nah, up and bailed last second, said somethin’ about a date but i think he’s lying.” jay rolls his eyes, “30 seconds, you’re both up soon.”

jay closes the door and you look over at heeseung, frowning “why the hell did he schedule a date during the same time he’s supposed to be here? he told me it was important, not that a date isn’t but i was thinking something with his parents or.. i don’t know..”

heeseung mulls it over for a few seconds, “i mean unless he was planning on bringin her home..”

“dude.”

“it’s jake we’re talking about, y/n.”

“okay, yeah you’re right, well you wanna go first with the calls then..?”

heeseung nods, the on air button lights up and he clicks on a random caller, “hey lucky number one, congratulations you’re on air with us on STU 101.85, what’s your name?”

“hey guys it’s yunjin!” yunjin’s voice is heard through the speaker.

you sit up in your seat a little bit, “oh my god, hey girl! thanks for calling, how you been tonight?” 

“same old same old, prof jeon is an asshole still and said my submitted designs lacks the ‘creative theme’ of what he asked for. the problem is, is that he gave us no theme, aside from it being wearable. so i based it off of 1960’s greek spring chic wear and now he’s denied my third design.”

heeseung nods his head, “we’ve heard from other fashion design majors that prof jeon is the worst, i guess this goes to show to any sophomores and juniors to not finish your semesters as a senior with prof jeon.”

yunjin scoffs, “you could say that again, i wish i took prof song’s class, apparently shes at least nicer with going about denying designs.”

“isn’t she tough to impress though..? i hear her students always come back with lower scores than those who take prof jeon?” you ask, “wouldn’t that be.. worse?”

“oh you’re right.. ugh just don’t be a fashion design major, worst choice ever.”

heeseung lets out a laugh, “alright well we’re gonna let you go and head to the next caller, good luck on the rest of your assignment.”

a hum is heard through the speaker, “yeah i should really get to finish on working with the fourth design, you guys have fun, i’ll still be tuned in too.”

the line clicks and heeseung switches to another caller, “and listeners that was miss yunjin, another senior here at STU, you may have seen her around workin tirelessly at the sewing machines in the fashion department, so send some luck her way for dealing with prof jeon. now we got our next caller with us, you’re on air!”

silence fills the studio and jay looks at you two through the window, mouthing a “the fuck?” and you two shrug, confusion on the both of your faces.

“uh.. dude? you there?” heeseung looks annoyed as he shuffles around in his seat.

more silence fills the room and now you can also feel annoyance creep into your body, “hey, listen if you’re not gonna talk we’ll move on. not sure if you stepped away from your phone at all or what kind of prank you’re trying to pull but you can cut it out, it’s not funny and it just holds us and everyone else up.”

“..01101000,” a gravelly, raw voice crackles through.

heeseung sits up, “okay i’m changing the caller, you’re a weirdo and can get off our line.”

 the voice continues, “..01100101.. 01101100–”

heeseung cuts the line, cutting the voice off too.

“freak.” you mutter, “what the hell was that?”

heeseung shrugs, “sounded like binary code, probably someone from comp sci deciding to pull a prank on us.”

“well they’re not funny, that was weird and kind of scary.” a shiver runs down your spine as you think about the voice that crackled through, whoever it was managed to perfectly replicate fear in their voice.

“oh don’t worry, i can protect you.” heeseung winks at you.

“i think my chances of survival lay better with jay, hee.” you look down to choose the next caller as heeseung makes a noise of offense, taking your words to heart.

“he would not-”

you connect to the caller, “and you’re the third caller of the night, thank you for spending your night here with us at STU 101.85, may we get your name?”

“uh, yeah hi it’s yang jungwon.. i’m a sports medicine major.”

your eyes lit up in recognition at the name and voice, “oh yeah! you’re on the journalism club right? i’ve seen you there frequently.”

“yeah, thanks for helping us out, y/n. uhm, you know i wasn’t positive that i’d get picked so i guess i’m unsure of how to say this.”

heeseung leans closer to his mic, “what do you mean, jungwon?”

“uh, well it’s just, that last caller and then the mysterious figure on campus is what i wanted to talk to you about."

that made you sit up straighter in your seat and from your glance at heeseung, his interest piqued as well.

“go ahead jungwon, we’re interested and i’m sure all the other listeners are too.” you give the green light for jungwon to essentially take over the whole talking segment.

jungwon takes a deep breath and you can hear some shuffling in the background as he gets ready to speak,“okay well, i’ve been staying late on campus for the last week because i work on the sports section of the campus news website right? and i’m not sure what’s been going on but i’ve noticed this shrouded figure walking late at night. they seem to be following any student late at night leaving the stem building.”

you look up at jay and then over to heeseung, the both of them listening to jungwon’s words intently you look back down at the board as jungwon continues, “i think it’s cause they often stay behind the latest right? i’m not sure, i felt it was better to be here and say it as a warning, in case the man was dangerous.”

heeseung speaks up, “you’re saying something now? didn’t you say it’s been the past week?”

jungwon is silent for a few seconds before breathing out, “okay yeah i figured someone would ask that, honestly i thought it was a prank at first, especially because it was a costume the person was wearing.”

“costume?” you ask, “what sort’ve costume?”

“it was that ghostface costume, you know like the scream movies one?”

“ghostface?” heeseung asks, skepticism in his tone, “you saw a dude in a ghostface costume? in spring?”

jungwon clicks his tongue, “that’s why i didn’t say anything, because it just sounds stupid. i really thought it was just a prank someone was pullin on a friend.”

you nervously pick at your nails as you think about jungwon’s words, “you’re saying something now though aren’t you? what made you change your mind?”

jungwon hesitates before saying anything, “the call.”

you raise an eyebrow, “what’s the call got anything to do with the ghostface random?”

“i.. got a weird call yesterday night, it was the same voice that just called you guys. honestly if i wasn’t seeing the costume dude on campus i wouldn’t have thought much of it or if i wasn’t tuned into the radio show tonight.” 

“why don’t you go to the police or campus security? dude like campus security should and would kick the guy off campus, even if what he’s doing is harmless, he’s being creepy.” heeseung sighs out and rubs his forehead a little.

“i did, they think i’m sleep deprived and seein shit, apparently they can’t find ‘any evidence’ that supports that someone's walking around being weird so they think i just need more sleep.”

“what about that phone call? isn’t it logged?” you’re honestly a bit worried for jungwon, something weird is happening, the murders, the calls, and the shrouded costume ghostface guy.

jungwon speaks a bit faster, trying to get all the information he can into the hands of however many people are listening, “thought it was, i re-called the number two days ago and it just immediately disconnects, then the number was gone from my phone yesterday. poof up and deleted from my call log.”

“oh what the hell..” you breathe out, heeseung looks pale as he listens to jungwon’s words.

“dude.. does that not remind you of the damn scream movies? like at least in some way?” heeseung shakingly asks, “it literally sounds like you’re being hunted jungwon.”

a clang is heard and a quiet “fuck” before some shuffling, “sorry dropped my phone, you kinda freaked me there with that heeseung.” jungwon lets out a sardonic laugh.

you turn to heeseung and lightly smack his arm, “no for real, why would you say some shit like that.”

heeseung splutters, “well.. like does it not? i don’t want to sound grave or mean about this right now but genuinely this shit sounds like jungwon is in danger.”

“not helping, dude.” jungwon speaks into his phone, voice low.

“no he’s got a point jungwon. with what hee’s talking about, you could really be in some serious danger. i mean a famous point of scream was the calls to the victims and if you’re really seeing someone run around in the ghostface costume..” you trail off unable to voice the rest of your concerns aloud.

“well thanks for helping me out you two,” the sarcasm in jungwon’s voice is clear and you flinch out of guilt. you didn’t mean to freak jungwon out a bit more, he really wanted to just warn people on campus who were out late. “regardless thanks for warning everyone on this, listeners tell your friends or if you know of any late night students, tell them they should be careful on campus now if they’re out late, just in case. jungwon this goes for you too you know?”

“yeah i know, i’m already off campus now so i should be fine.”

heeseung picks at his jacket’s sleeves, “still man, sounds like you gotta keep yourself safe anywhere.”

“i will, thanks for letting me stay for a while longer than you normally let your callers on.” from the background noise going on in jungwon’s call it sounds like someone coming in through his door, “i’ll go ahead and get going now, my roommate brought food and we’re gonna eat, thanks for having me guys!”

jungwon ends the call and you glance up at the clock which reads 11:07 pm, “alright we have time for one more caller, normally we’d have ended this by 11:00pm and done another segment at 11:30pm as you are all aware but i guess we’ll just have one long talk segment today. heeseung you wanna do the honors for the last lucky caller.”

heeseung nods and clicks on the next caller, “lucky number four, you are live with us at STU 101.85, you get to be the last call of the night with us, anything on your mind that you’d like to chat with us about?” heeseung and you are met with heavy breathing into the phone’s microphone. 

“hello..?” you call out tentatively and heeseung groans out beside you, “alright i’m really getting sick of the people who decide to prank us.”

the breathing stops abruptly at heeseung’s words and your breath hitches in the back of the throat. you’re unsure as to why the caller made you nervous, heeseung is right, prank calls have been weirdly often tonight, this was the second one of the night after all. heeseung’s hands reach to change the caller and that’s when a weird low static sounding voice filters through, “don’t hang me up, lee heeseung.”

heeseung stops his movement’s mid way and your head whips into his direction quickly, the voice continues, “why don’t you put your hand back down. we’re going to chat.” heeseung quickly obliges and fear has overtaken everyone in the room, jay from where he is, is even frozen from the voice.

“much better. thank you for having me on your lovely radio show. you know, i’m not exactly the happiest at having been the last caller, but i suppose only the best are chosen as the final right?” the voice takes a shaky breath before continuing, “y/n,” you freeze as your name comes out, “don’t you think being the final one is best too..?”

you don’t answer, unsure if that’s the best course of action, you just can’t bring yourself to say any words at this moment, but the mysterious caller decides he’ll make you answer, “answer me y/n. you get to choose the fate of someone very important tonight after all.”

your blood runs cold at his words, eyes shaking and tears even start to brim, you stutter out, “what.. what do you mean?”

“i’m so glad you asked honey, let’s bring out my special guest out.” the sounds of a muffled cry and cloth are heard before jake’s voice faint and hoarse comes out of the phone, “let us go man, just please let us go.”

you gasp loudly, heeseung slams his fist down at the table, and jay upon hearing jake’s voice runs into the room, a look you’ve never seen before on his face, either of their faces. jay looks like he may faint yet angry while heeseung looks as if he’s never experienced anger in the way he’s had before.

“i’m sure you know now who is with me.” the voice chuckles and you can hear some crying from a girl as well in the background, “i managed to get a two for one deal tonight for you all.”

“the fuck do you want with us?” heeseung grits out and the caller laughs.

“it’s not so what i want with your group, it’s what i want done with you, lee heeseung.”

heeseung’s bravado falters slightly, “what are you talking about? what could i offer you?”

“i wanna know why.. scratch that i think.. everyone here tonight deserves to know why actually, about the things you’ve done for your beloved radio show.”

you slowly turn your head to heeseung and he’s pale, hands slightly shaking, “hee? what is this guy talking about?”

heeseung looks up at you, pupils blown wide in fear and you feel your heart break at how scared he is, you know you’re not much better either, “i.. i don’t know, this doesn’t make any sense, i.. there’s.. i don’t know.” he’s panicking and you reach over to grab his hand to calm him down some. his hands are clammy but given the situation you understand, you squeeze and he squeezes back.

the voice scoffs, “oh please, get that fake shit out of my face. heeseung knows what he did sweetheart and if i were you i would think twice about holding his hands when all they know are acts of violence.”

jay speaks up before you have the choice to ask what they meant, “i’m calling the police, sick freak.”

“ah ah ah..” the caller tuts out, “if any of you three call the police, your beloved pal jake is getting gutted. i’ll even string out his body parts so prettily for you. send some lovely pictures, y/n you’d appreciate my art for you? right?”

you frankly feel like throwing up and you shake your head frantically, “no.. no..”

the caller lets out a cackle and speaks in a mocking tone, “aww… poor thing is so scared, heeseung why don’t you comfort your poor girl, after all you’ve done sooooo much for her.”

“fuck. off.” heeseung snarls out, hand not holding yours gripping the table and the strength behind it shocks you.

“no fun, either of you, jay’s always been a bit boring anyways, wanting the police involved in our fun so early. however i’m aware we are live.. so i guess we should speed things up. besides jake here i have someone important to jay here. say hello to jay.”

the sobbing girl is heard more clearly and the pit in your stomach is ever growing, the feeling of vomiting coming back tenfold, “why.. why are you doing this.. please i never did anything to you, please please please, let me go i won’t say anything. please j-”

a loud bang and a shriek is heard and jakes voice is screaming, “stop! stop just let her go, man. what is wrong with you?!”

some more shuffling and the caller is heard better, “what’s wrong with me? me..? you were the one who brought your dear friend’s ex out on a date.”

jay slams his hands on the table, leaning forward, “my EX? you were out with fucking yujin?”

more sobs from yujin, you suppose, comes through the phone, “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry, i wanted to make you jealous. i wanted you back, that was it i’m sorry i’m so sorry.”

rubbing his jaw, jay paces around the room, shouting out a “fuck” and slamming his fist against the wall, “jay! this isn’t the time! this asshole WANTS us to act like this, you’re playing into his hands!” heeseung calls out, standing up quickly, “he WANTS you to get angry, he’s enjoying this.”

“yeah?” jay spins around and lets out a shaky laugh, “really? and how do you know that heeseung? you know this guy or something? i wouldn’t be surprised considering you’ve got some fucking secrets of your own now.” jay jabs at heeseung’s chest and he stumbles back in surprise.

you put your head in your hands and yell, “stop! just stop you two! a sadistic killer has jake and yujin and you’re fighting?! what the fuck. just what the fuck?!”

“yeahh.. you two, what the fuck..?” the voice giggles, “you should be more like y/n and focus on the two that’s with me. maybe you can make y/n’s job easier and help her with her choice.”

your whip your head up, tears streaming down your face, “what the hell do you mean help you, you sick fuck?!”

“that’s not very kind now baby… and i mean helping me choose who i kill for everyone tonight of course.”

oh. oh no. no no no no no. absolutely not, you would not choose that, there’s no way you could bring yourself to do that. you shakingly look at the board and whimper out a “no” which the caller barks out a laugh in return, “i’m afraid it’s non negotiable. if you don’t.. i choose at random then and the other person lives with the information that they were saved because of me! or… i just kill both.”

the two men in the room with you freeze at the information they’re hearing, heeseung slowly walks to you, pushes your mic away and crouches down to your level, putting his hands around your body to help the tremors going through your body, he rubs your back soothingly and jay’s jaw clenches as he angrily blows air out of his nose.

heeseung lowly whispers into your ear, “it’s okay y/n.. you.. you gotta do it.. you can do this.. make the choice.. it’s easy right..? you don’t know yujin.. jake needs to be saved y/nnie. jay will understand.. yujin cheated on him anyways.”

you’re not sure why heeseung is calmly telling you this information, you’re not sure why jay won’t look at you directly, you’re not sure why it has to be you that makes this choice, but as heeseung whispers more into your ear about how you can do it and he believes you’d make the right choice you start thinking that doesn’t matter and heeseung’s right. jake needs to be saved. jake is your friend. you don’t know yujin. yujin was a bad girlfriend to jay. you don’t question heeseung’s whispers, you don’t question heeseung at all.

“jake..” you quietly mutter out.

“what was that? i couldn’t hear you..?” the killer sings out and you almost throw up for what feels like the thirteenth time that night.

“jake..!” you speak up a little louder and heeseung squeezes your body comfortingly, “i choose to save jake.”

yujin screams in anguish and you flinch in guilt. “excellent choice, y/n. saving your friends.. how heroic.” the killer praises and you put your head in the crook of heeseung’s neck, wishing this nightmare would just end, he just rubs your back, but you miss the grin he sends jay’s way.

the phone is set down and you can hear yujin plead for her life with the killer, “i just did what you wanted! you said.. you said j- no no stop don’t come any closer i swear i swear no one will know. let me go please. please. i’m sorry,” she cries louder and starts pleading to you all, “jay please.. convince her to save me. jay please we can be happy again. no. no. no! NO! JA–”

the wet sounds of a knife meeting flesh is loud, yujin’s cries become louder and you breakingly sob into heeseung’s shoulder, he grips your body stronger and continues to rub your back. the squelch noise of multiple stabs into yujins poor body ring in your ears. her choked back sobs and cries as her throat fills with her blood causes your sobs to bellow out even louder, heeseung whispers that everything’ll be alright, his constant whispering so soothing you try to focus on them instead of yujin’s dying noises.

it feels like an eternity later but the noises quiet down and all that’s left is silence in the room and the killer’s heavy breathing. “thank you, for allowing me the opportunity to give you and your listeners a show.”

more silence fills the room and you can hear jay’s footsteps in the background pacing once more but you don’t dare look up, an irrational fear that the killer is in the room with you playing in your mind.

heeseung’s eyes darken as he looks down at your shaking body, the small whimpers you let out ignites a fire in his body that he’s only ever gotten killing others and he has stop the smile from forming on his face as he thinks how quick you were to just trust him. his eyes flicker towards jay as he turns off the equipment in the radio show, jay nods once everything is off and they’re no longer live.

the voice speaks up once more and your body stills, having believed the killer dropped the call, “you’re always so sweet y/nnie. so so so kind. the best player for our games. sweet dreams.”

you slowly lift your head in confusion but a small pinch to your neck makes your head drop back down, your eyes blearing together as the only thing you can make out is heeseung’s necklace and white shirt, the feeling of his steady breathing and whatever just stung you luring you into the dark and away from the sick and twisted situation.

#⤷⌗⊹ ࣪ ˖𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑺𝑬𝑼𝑵𝑮 #LATE NIGHT TALKS : series #enhypen x reader #heeseung x reader #heeseung #heeseung fluff #heeseung scenarios #enhypen horror #enhypen fanfiction #heeseung fanfic #heeseung fanfiction #enhypen fluff #lee heeseung #lee heeseung x reader #enha x reader #heeseung enha #heeseung enhypen #enha scenarios #enhypen scenarios #enhypen series #kpop x reader #kpop fanfic #heeseung x yn

[brodieland]

.˚ 𓈒 ࣪.𝝑𝝔 Mrs Dr. McShizzle!! ´ˎ˗

Leo Valdez x Fem!Dionysus!reader Synopsis: After taking care of you so well, now your Hephaestus boy caught your cold. Now its your turn to take care of him. Tag(s): BLURB, wow I don't think I swore... Word Count: 678 Part 1

"Finally you're here," Nyssa greeted as you walked through the doors of the Hephaestus forge. Not even seconds in and you were already sweaty.

"Yeah of course, whats up," you asked. She just shook her head as she pointed over to one of the occupied work benches. Standing there was your boyfriend Leo. "Leo Valdez!"

You saw his body flinch at the sound of your voice. He slowly turns to meet your fierce gaze as he shyly smiled and waved. "Heyy.."

"Don't you hey me, your supposed to be in bed," you spat as you walked towards him.

"I told you, I'm fine," he waved off as he continued what he was working on. He's definitely about to not be fine, who did he think he was waving off??

"Leo, your burning up."

"I'm the fire guy, I'm always burning up."

"Oh really," you crossed your arms. "Are you also always leaking snot from your nose?"

Leo turned and grabbed an old rag full of grease to blow on, then incinerating with his own flames. "I don't know what your talking about."

"Wow, that was.. nasty. You're nasty for that I hope you know."

"Love you too baby," he grinned as he tried turning back to his workbench. You quickly caught his shoulder and kept him facing you.

"You're sick, we're leaving, and I'm not telling you again."

Silence fell over the forge as they watched the scene unfold. They'd spend the last hour trying to get Leo to take a break, seeing how sick the poor boy was, but nothing was working. Till of course, Nyssa called you. Sure, maybe it's a childish move to snitch on him to his girlfriend, but everyone knows Leo would do anything you ask, despite sometimes being a little... defiant. You just know whats good for him!!

"Fine," he reluctantly dropped his tools as you lead him back towards your cabin (the mostly empty cabin). He tried making his way toward your bed before you grabbed him by the shirt, he turned back confused.

"You need to shower, your covered in grease."

"Nono, I'm too tired to hop in," he waved as he tried to sit down, but again you pulled him back by the back of his shirt. "Oh c'monnn."

"You're dirty, lets go," you pulled him to your bathroom. You felt like Leo was your disobedient child right now, but whatever. He was sick and in need of someone to take care of him the way he always did for you, so, you guessed he was allowed.

"Fine, fine," he groaned as he stepped in the bathroom. "But no peeking, loser."

"NOOO," you fake complained while laughing, "oh whatever will I do?"

You smiled as you heard Leo's laughter on the other side of the door. You went to your closet to find some clothes Leo had left behind all the times he's slept over (pray your dad nor Chiron ever find this out). You pulled out his sweats and one of his camp Half-Blood shirts, smiling when you saw the words 'Y/N's BOYFRIEND' written on it. Minutes passed when you realized the water turning off and Leo peeking his head out from the bathroom.

"I need some clothes," he smiled sheepishly. You just held them up a few feet away. "I can't reach that far!!"

"Ugh fine," you threw him his clothes. "You're no fun."

"I'm dying you pervert," he slammed the door and quickly came back out, slumping into your bed. You went rummaging through your drawers and found the medicine Will had given you for when you were sick, now you had just enough left for Leo.

"Take this," this time he didn't even bother questioning your demands. You handed him some water and laid down in his chest.

"You're like, the best and.. hottest nurse ever," he mumbled into your hair. You hummed with your eyes closed and hugged him tighter. Leo kissed the top of your head and the two of your drifted off into a deep sleep, this time with no interruptions.

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #percy jackson pjo #percy pjo #leo hoo #leo valdez hoo #leo valdez pjo #leo pjo #Leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x you #leo valdez x y/n

[mystic-writings]

selfishly, i love you | eleventh doctor

PAIRING — eleventh doctor x fem!reader

SUMMARY — after two years of being burdened with love for the doctor, you make the choice to leave him behind. 

WARNINGS — angst

WORD COUNT — 1,818

NOTES — matt smith i will always love you

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You weren’t sure what hurt more — your utterly unrequited love for the Doctor, or the fact that you were leaving him behind. 

After years of waiting, of being his companion and seeing every corner of time and space with him, you were finally choosing to leave his impossibly addicting lifestyle behind. 

Oddly enough, it was such a trivial thing that brought you to the decision. 

Visiting the future was always a tricky thing; rarely did the Doctor get the timing correct. This was one of the few times that he had, on a trip that was just for you and him. No Rory, River, or Amy. Just the pair of you, exploring New New London in all of its intergalactic, interspecies glory. 

It was a treasure, seeing glimpses of a world that would only come to fruition after you’d be long gone. You think that’s why you loved travelling with the Doctor as much as you did. To know that despite everything, the world wouldn’t end when you eventually died. That no matter how bad the trivial things seemed in the smaller picture of your life, the world would keep on going. 

You’d been wandering a food market together when it happened, taking in the bustle of people as vendors displayed all sorts of things — clothes, food, anything your heart wanted. 

“Doctor, look!” You pointed excitedly at one of the market stalls. “They’ve got those candies! The three berry ones that I’ve been looking for!” 

The Doctor shared a smile with you as you dragged him by the sleeve of his tweed coat over to the market stall. 

Excitedly, you pointed at the bag of candies. “How much?”

“Four credits a bag, or two bags for seven credits,” the older man said, rather gruffly, despite the smile on his face. 

The Doctor transferred enough credits for you to take four bags of candies, and you thanked both him and the vendor profusely as you pocketed your bags. 

“You know,” the vendor grunted, “you two remind me of myself, when I was young. With my wife.”

Before you had a chance to open your mouth, the Doctor scoffed in disbelief. “Wh- us?” He nearly laughed. “We’re not- no, sir! We’re just friends, that’s all. Yes, friends.” 

You could feel your heart cracking in your chest, as it usually did. You were surprised there was anything left of it now, considering how many times the Doctor had unknowingly shot you down. 

“Thank you, sir. Have a nice day.” You muttered, voice cracking as the Doctor moved on promptly. Your chest ached at the pitiful nod the vendor gave you, delivering another blow to your battered heart. 

That was all it was. A comment from an unsuspecting street vendor, and the well-intended, panicked response from the Doctor. 

Upon returning to the TARDIS later that evening, you walked past the control panel and toward your room without a word. 

“Wha- Y/n!” The Doctor called out, likely in the middle of a one-sided conversation with you. “Where are you going?! We still have to decide where to go next!” 

“To my room, Doctor.” You shouted back, climbing the stairs. “I want to go home.” 

You paid the Doctor no mind as he made a noise of protest, but didn’t follow you as you headed into one of the hallways. The TARDIS materialised the door to your room, decorated with stickers and polaroids of yourself, the Doctor, and your other friends, from travels over the past two years. 

With a shaking sigh, you pulled the pictures down and walked into your room with them in hand, tossing them onto the bedside table. 

You dropped onto the side of the bed, shoulders rounded and sagging with the weight of your own mind. Replaying the moment with the vendor caused you nothing but pain, but your mind seemed to make the decision for you, displaying it on a cinema screen for you to pick apart and torture yourself with. 

It felt like hours of you doing only that; letting your mind wander, overthink the scenario and digging up long forgotten ones that all pointed to the same conclusion — you loved the Doctor, more than you could bear handling. And he didn’t love you at all. 

Of course, that wasn’t entirely true. He did love you, he’d said it himself. But he always followed up the word ‘love’ with ‘family’ or ‘friend’. He loved you the same way he loved Rory and Amy, as a member of his makeshift little family. 

Even though the Doctor had given you his love, it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t the right kind of love. 

Selfishly, you wanted more. You wanted him, in a way many companions had before, and in a way none of them had ever achieved. At some point, even Amy had wanted him that way. How could she not? The Doctor was entirely irresistible. 

But you knew you could never have him. If today was any marker of how he felt, then your paths ahead were simple: either stay and live with the pain that slowly chipped away at your heart, or leave the Doctor and his radiance behind in the hopes that one day, you’d be able to move on and live a life that resembled everyone else’s.

Surprisingly, the Doctor had left you alone during your time of contemplation. Typically, if he was alone for too long, he’d grow restless and come knocking on your door (or, more commonly, walking into your room unannounced) to talk to you about anything that was occupying his mind. 

Once you’d decided, it didn’t take you long to pack up your room. 

The polaroids were tucked neatly into an old leather suitcase, one that was probably stolen from the 1950s. Your clothes and trinkets — all of which were souvenirs from past travels — fit neatly into the main compartment, and suddenly, within fifteen minutes, your entire life was packed neatly into a single leather case, ready to be carried away to God knows where.

Your heart ached at the thought. At the reality that, for your own good, this life would be no more. No more hot cocoa and tea with the Doctor, no more karaoke with Rory. No more exploring alien planets with Amy, disregarding the Doctor’s cautious instructions. No more admiring River’s bravery. 

No more adventure. Just the trials of an average life on an average planet as an average human. And while you lived for the days you spent with the Doctor, you weren’t sure you’d be able to go on living with him. 

With the love you carried for him. 

Taking a deep breath, you held the suitcase with one hand, and opened the door of your room with the other. 

It seemed, as you stepped into the corridor, that the TARDIS had put your room further back than it had materialised it in the first place. You were forced to walk the halls, footsteps echoing in your ears as you soaked in your surroundings for a final time. 

When you entered the control room, the Doctor was flipping switches frantically, talking to you without looking. 

“Finally! You’ve come out of your room!” He exclaimed. “Look, I was thinking I’d take you to that planet I was talking to you about, with the cats and talking cars and two-headed people. Sounds like it’d make for an interesting visit, no?”

“Doctor,” you called out from the top of the steps, quietly. 

“Or!” He shouted again, moving about the console. “I could take you to see the Roman Empire! You’ve talked a lot about that one before-” the Doctor looked up from the console to find you with your bag in hand. He pointed to it, eyes gleaming. “What’s that for?”

“I want to go home, Doctor.” You said, chest bubbling with emotion. “Please, just take me home.” 

“Why?” He asked, wringing his hands. 

You exhaled a sigh, dropping your head. There was no way for you to be able to explain it. “Because, Doctor. I’m tired.” 

“But there’s a bed in your room, you can sleep in there, can’t you?” The Doctor asked. 

Descending the steps, you shook your head. “It’s not that kind of tired. I can’t just sleep it off. It’s been wearing me down inside for a long time, and it won’t go away if I stay.” 

“What d’you mean?” Worry pooled in the Doctor’s eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine, Doctor.” You gave him a tight-lipped smile, one you knew he would see right through. But you didn’t have the energy to try convincing him any further. “I just need to go home.” 

The Doctor nodded, solemnly, before pressing a few buttons on the console beside you, eyes barely leaving yours. The TARDIS whirred, bringing you back to your home. 

Within minutes, you were there. In your small backyard, leading up to the back porch door of your small townhouse. Where you’d be alone. 

You opened the door, and stepped outside. The Doctor followed you, catching your wrist and turning you to face him. 

“Doctor, please,” you pleaded. “I can’t do this.”

“Do what, Y/n?” He asked. “I’m going to come back ‘round later, okay? Maybe when you’re feeling better we can go see that planet I was talking about.”

Tears swelled in your eyes, blurring your view of the Doctor. Misty rain coated your hair and clothes, because of course it had to be raining. You shook your head solemnly, a shaking breath wracking your body. 

“I’m not coming back, Doctor. I can’t.” You told him, voice cracking and wavering. “It’ll hurt too much.” 

“What are you talking about, Y/n?” The Doctor’s voice cracked with worry. “What’s going on?”

You gingerly put your suitcase down, stepping closer to the Doctor and cupping his jaw with your hands as the rain began to set in. “You are the most brilliant person I’ve ever known, Doctor. You’ve shown me so much, more than I ever thought I’d see in my lifetime. But I can’t continue being with you. Because I love you, more than life itself. Wholly and selfishly, I love you, Doctor. And I know you don’t love me, so I have to leave. If I don’t leave, It’ll destroy me.” 

“But I-I do, Y/n,” the Doctor shook his head. “I do love you.”

“As a friend, Doctor.” You reminded him. “And I’m sorry, truly, but it’s just not enough.” 

Your tears fell freely as you let go of the Doctor’s face, stepping back and picking your suitcase back up. Solemnly, you smiled and said, “See you later, Doctor. Don’t do anything stupid.” 

The Doctor only nodded, watching you disappear back into your home. 

If only he could bring himself to chase after you and find some sort of way to get you back. But even he knew it wouldn’t work. It had been your choice, after all. And who was he to ignore that?

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[chimerahyperfix]

CW: Graphic depictions of violence, lots of Death and Gore, Psychological horror for like 3 lines, mentions of drowning. Please read the tags and take caution. This one's more than a little visceral.

-----

The King is here.

You walk through crowded halls of rushing Housemaidens getting into defensive positioning. It's like fighting a wave in the ocean, hard to push through the crowd. You make do anyways, curling through paths you normally wouldn't take.

It's a big deal to everyone but you, at this point. This is the big event, the big fight; to you it's simply where time loops back. Just another day, y'know? You've done it over and over, and you'll probably keep doing it anyways.

It's odd, pushing through the crowd. Everyone is going one way and you are going another. Rushing versus strolling. Your hands are in the pockets of your lab coat. You're practically whistling, for crab's sake!

You simply cannot be bothered this loop. It's a failure from the start: you crabbed up making the bomb, which means you're crabbed from the very beginning. You climbed up the Favor Tree and wedged yourself between the braches for a few hours to pass the time, because looping back would be too much of an inconvenience, and you could just wait until the tears started spawning in the house to go back. The birds had a good time at least, one starting to craft a nest next to you.

You ghosted throughout the day, and now its go time. Everyone else is prepared and ready to fight for time itself, and here you are just. Walking. Realistically you're searching for a tear to stop it all before it starts, but luck isn't on your side this loop.

You can hear it, hear it-- the horrors. All the screams of those unfortunate enough to cross the King's path and fight back. It would be easier, for them, to just bow back and let themselves be frozen-- but no one wants to be frozen, because that's having choice itself stolen from you, a cage of ice to lock yourself in forever. It's just as bad as being dead. Stagnant and eternally screaming.

So they march to their deaths.

The King does not take kindly to the Housemaidens fighting back. Some loops, the House isn't prepared for his attack. Those loops are the nice ones, the less gorey ones. Less dead and more frozen bodies, because no one was prepared to brawl with the monster. He can just... swoop on through and take the House without more than a handful of casualties. This loop is one of the bad ones, because your fellow housemaidens were all prepared. You always think your prepared, too, to see the outcome, but you never truly are.

You turn into the main hall, and freeze still.

No matter how many loops you go through, the carnage always gets to you. There's a nasty, overpowering smell of iron in the air and big dark stains painting the walls, the floors and the roof. Bits and pieces of mashed guts and viscera. There were people in this hallway, once.

Not anymore.

It makes you sick to your stomach like every other time. Just the thought of it. There were people here and now there's only parts of them left. Just ten minutes ago or so, there were people here.

There were people here.

The gore goes in a trail down the hall. Paints practically everything-- including frozen people, if you look down the hall. All frozen with shock and absolute horror on their faces. You recognize some of them.

You try not to think about it.

You push on. Try to ignore the way the blood seeps into your shoes very fabric so they become damp. Try to ignore the fact you're trailing someone's very life behind you now with bloody shoe prints.

There are still no tears.

Plan B, then. The King himself.

You hate going against the King. It always ends terribly with you in agony. But that's the only option left right now, so you chase him down on his little path carved from the blood of the innocent. You find him quickly, too- just down the hall.

He stops before you can get too close. The smell in the air is overpowering, the sharp tang of blood and the burning sensation of the sugar.

"Burning one." He says to you. You're not sure where he pulled that one from: the nickname was something different at some point, but you've long forgotten what it was. Maybe it's the smell of burnt, rotting sugar or maybe it's the potions that burnt your throat. You're not sure anymore.

He just... stands there. Turns around and looks at you. You can feel the dead expression you're pulling as you stare back. Blood glints on his armor, shining and the worst sight in the world and all the same kinda beautiful in its own way? Like the lightless gore is the night sky itself, sparkling with little dots. Makes you feel sick just thinking that.

"How have you done it?" He asks. He asks it every time the two of you face off, the same five words. How. A inquiry. Something you have done, you shouldn't have, and he knows it.

You... think you've gotten it, now. Your hypothesis: How you wished. It's not something you were supposed to do. You did something different something WRONG, and it did something to time itself, tearing a hole in the fabric of space. It's wrong. It's wrong, and you know it and so does the King.

He stares in your direction. You think? Despite his hands, blood-stained as they are, not being infront of his face, the mop of hair is still in the way. You can feel the glare still. Enraged. Daggers in your side.

"I don't know." It's the truth.

"You don't know?"

"I don't remember."

The King goes silent. It's odd, having an actual conversation with him. Even if it was a tiny exchange, it still throws you off. He's willing to talk, even if just a question. He's never really talked to you-- or anyone, to your knowledge-- before.

"Ouuuuhhhh... of course you don't." He wails. It sounds like nails on a chalkboard to you. "You shouldn't have been able too, oohhh... not at all..."

He raises a fist up. It sparkles like the night sky, dark dripping from between his fingers. There's still someone's remains painted on them. Preemptively you brace and throw your arms up in an attempt to block.

It's a different thing that hits you. A new attack. A giant open palm slams into your chest, and you go flying backwards into the wall. The world turns to slow motion as something in you SNAPS. Crunches. Your bones shatter and explode with the force and speed, shooting little shards of agony everywhere.

It hurts. It HURTS. Pain rips through your entire body, and you realise you've started to scream when your chest begins to hurt. Blood splatters onto your glasses, blotting out your vision.

You look up at the King. How'd you get on the floor? How are you breathing, with no lungs? You can see fragments of bone stuck between the metal of his armor.

"Let this be a lesson to you, Burning one."

Metal clinks, and your vision swims-- dots in the corners, figures blur. Blood drips down into your left eye and paints half of your vision a dark shade. Nothing but pain.

Make it stop. Make it stop, make it stop make it stop-- it hurts, it hurts it hurts it hurts.

You

Simply stop thinking. Just for a moment.

So your brain can catch up! Yeah, sure. That's a good enough excuse.

Just. Pain. You are pain incarnate, and that's all you will be until you die slowly and loop back.

You

Blink,, and

The King. Is gone. You can hear him leaving, loud stomping footsteps dissapearing down a bloodstained trail, and you just stare.

How lucky, HOW LUCKY of you to be left alive this time. Like this isn't a fate worse than death. You gasp for air, and realise all you have left is blood filling your lungs.

It hurts. You want it to end, now. It's hard to see, over the blood and spots dancing across your eyes, but you see them; tears, floating around you. A quick out. You reach out, and the pain in you flares alive, ripping and tearing you apart. You feel like your flesh is going to peel off.

Your fingers brush into one of the tears, and you sob as the ice rolls down your arm and consumes you. It feels a hundred times better than what you were feeling before.

You freeze in time-- and luckily theres no nightmare you have to endure, you just wake back up at your desk. You spend a good chunk of the morning curled up in the bathroom getting sick, because, wow! That's the worst one yet! It's curled into your very being, the feeling of breaking your bones like rock candy, the feeling of drowning in blood.

You just... have to do it better this time, or... something. Hope is fading away into background static. You can't... do this anymore. It hurts too much. You want it to stop. Please make it stop.

#isat #in stars and time #isat spoilers #in stars and time spoilers #claude looping au #isat claude #in craft and cages #cw death #cw gore #cw mentions of drowning #cw graphic violence #--- #ok. wow. this ones really hard to read. #like ok genuinely im worried this might trigger someone so i slammed every tag i could think of on #now im a horror artist. this is my wheelhouse. i do the gore n shit right #please PLEAAAASE be careful. if this one sounds upsetting to u PLEASE sit it out #genuinely very worried abt this one #but also proud as fuck because this is Pretty Good to me and also prib over 1000 words lol #just. dont push y'alls selves for funny au content plz #im very anxious abt making ppl upset haha #i get isat does horror and stuff but this is pretty graphic #please let me know if i need to tag anything else. very antsy here

[climbthemountain2020]

Love You Like Oxygen - Chapter 1

Part 1/8 | Ao3

I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you I've been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night And now I see daylight, I only see daylight

Helion hated courtly functions with a passion as fiery as the sun of his court, and it was a feat in and of itself for him to remain the proper courtier he was trained to be as the events dragged on and on into the evening. As this one stood, it was an equinox ball in Autumn, perhaps his least favorite group for company, and to make matters worse, the chiton he’d chosen to wear was itching terribly. He’d hoped, perhaps, that Rhysand might make an appearance to give him someone to elbow about the pompous nature of preening noble families at parties, but it seemed he would not have any luck in that regard tonight.

Helion’s parents, while great rulers, always encouraged him to make appearances on their behalf, sending him in their stead to events that were more on the rubbing elbows side of things. They tended to keep to the more political events, the two of them instead preferring the company of each other back in Day Court when possible. Helion shuddered. His parents had made no secret of the fact that they were mates throughout his life. Not to him, nor to anyone else within earshot, unfortunately. Hyperion and Helayna were not shy in their love for each other. Helion found it sweet, if not a bit repulsive, but he couldn’t imagine himself ever forsaking the benefits that came with being High Lord to be with a single female or male for the rest of time. Especially knowing what his current position as simply heir had already given him.

Helion nodded and raised his hand in greeting across the room at various high fae, not engaging where he could help it. Within the hour, he would be able to make a quiet exit and it wouldn’t be considered inappropriate. He leaned back against the wall, adjusting his cobalt chiton again as it rubbed beneath his arms. Sometimes he would work to take someone home from these functions, but tonight his heart wasn’t in it. He wasn’t sure what had gotten into him, but he was ready to be back home. Autumn always set him on edge.

As he waited for the moments to creep by, a flash of blinding red caught in his periphery. Before he could locate it, it was gone, flitting off into a dark hallway. Another night, he might not have paid it any mind, but tonight, Helion was bored, and his curiosity often got the better of him. Without drawing attention to himself, he pushed lightly off the wall and walked nonchalantly over to the dark hallway. The light faded behind him as he entered, but even the small fae lights lining the hall weren’t enough to provide a great visual. He wondered if the flash of scarlet he had seen had been just a trick of the light. As he went to turn back and return to the party, he heard the quietest sound to his left–the sound of a fork on a plate, then silence. He looked at the tapestry that hung there, as dark as the hallway, a depiction of a battle of old, before even the days of his parents. But around the corners of the tapestry was the absolute smallest, most minute glow of light. Helion took a chance, pulling it to the side, and found a rather large stone alcove behind it. It was rimmed with stone benches, lit only by a single, dim faelight. Sitting on one of the benches, eyes wide and fork full of cake half lifted to her mouth, was the most beautiful female he’d ever seen.

Her hair was a simmering scarlet, glowing like flames in the low light. Her startled eyes, a brown so deep they nearly glowed red, fixed on him and didn’t move away. She lowered the fork slowly back to the plate so it didn’t make any noise, and he tracked the movement with a sharp eye.

“Hello.” She whispered. He nearly smirked as he watched her take him in all the same. He knew he was an attractive male, and he knew the effect he had on faes in every court, but the way she was looking him up and down suddenly made him feel naked, exposed even. It was not a feeling Helion was familiar with. He was often the predator, never the prey.

“Hello, Lady,” he whispered back, stepping towards her and holding a hand out to take hers. She lifted hers, placing it in his hand and he lowered himself to press his lips to her porcelain skin. He never took his eyes off her for a moment; he watched her swallow, and watched her eyes fixed on his lips as they softly brushed her skin.

“Alanna. My name is Alanna.”

“Helion.” He smiled wolfishly as he sat on the bench next to her, close, but not too close. “What are you doing back here in the dark, Alanna?”

“Eating cake,” she replied with a smile, as though it was the most obvious and normal thing in the world.

“Are the owners of this noble manor aware that you know all the best cake-eating spots?” She laughed, her eyes filled with mirth and mischief.

“Well, I’d certainly assume so. It is my home.” She pointed her fork back to the plate, stabbing a piece and offering it out to him. He surprised her by leaning in and wrapping his lips around the fork still in her hand. Even in the dark, he could see her blush, marked the way it traveled deliciously up to her perfectly pointed ears.

So, she was one of the three daughters of the Sinclair family, the noble family of the manor where the current ball was being held. Her family was one of the oldest besides the Vanserras, having been mixed with the bloodline of high lords of Autumn for thousands of years. Their magic was ancient and strong, and he could feel the buzz of it so close to his, begging to reach out, to touch, to play. Helion shook himself minutely.

“Good cake,” he said instead, sending her a wink and allowing himself the pleasure of watching her blush deepen.

“I’m actually hiding.”

“Clearly.”

“No, I mean, I’m hiding with the cake, but I am also hiding from the show.”

“The show? You mean the party?” He wasn’t following, but she looked to be holding back a laugh.

“I actually, uh, may have pulled a slight prank, and I need to be not around as it happens.”

Helion was filled with a delight unlike any he’d felt in years. This beautiful creature, a member of one of the most fearsome magical families in the most brutal court, was hiding in the dark, eating cake, and waiting for a prank she had planned to unfold. Helion leaned forward and let her mischief reflect in his own eyes.

“Do tell, Alanna.” He could have sworn he saw her shiver at his tone.

“I may have released some weasels?” It was quiet for a beat. Then another. Then Helion’s laugh overtook him with such power that he forgot they were supposed to be whispering. She shot up closer to him, putting her hand over his mouth as he guffawed.

“Shhhh,” she giggled. “Are you trying to get me caught?”

“What do you mean you released weasels?” He whispered, near-hysterical with laughter at the ridiculousness of it all, tears at the corners of his eyes.

“I enchanted some weasels to follow around the High Lord of Autumn?” Helion may have been in love. He hated Beron Vanserra with a passion. They’d been forced into proximity an innumerable amount of times in his life, and gods, the male drove him insane. He was pompous, arrogant, cold, cruel, and he treated lesser fae and females like garbage beneath his foot. The thought of him being chased around such a high brow party, in his own court, by weasels just about shoved Helion over the edge. But the next words out of her mouth sobered the moment.

“He’s to be my husband, eventually. I can’t stand him.”

“Your intended?” Helion felt strangely territorial. “He’s so much older than you, isn’t he?”

“Well, yes, but that’s not how brides are chosen in Autumn. The male can choose whoever he wants; the ages don’t really matter.” She’d set the plate down. “Nothing has been made official yet, but when he came to look at my sisters and I, he seemed to imply to my father I would be the one.”

“What do you mean he came to look?” She blushed again, but there was rage on her face this time. Helion could swear he felt the temperature rise in the cold alcove.

“He made us parade in front of him in our slips. It was horrid. I kept thinking, perhaps, my parents might have told him no, but they didn’t. They never will. They wouldn’t risk his ire, and certainly not over our bloodline.”

Helion felt an anger that was unfamiliar to him creep through his veins. “They parade you out? Like cattle?” The bite in his voice caught her attention, her eyes meeting his.

“In Autumn, that’s normal. It doesn’t make it any less horrid.” He was having trouble schooling his breathing. The sudden urge to beat Beron’s face in had become overwhelming. Perhaps a few decades ago he could have gotten away with it, but to attack a High Lord was a death sentence. “So anyway, I enchanted the weasels to follow him around.” Her tone was light again–clipped, but light. “I felt it was very fitting. But I was worried if I was watching, I wouldn’t be able to contain my laughter, and then they’d all know it was me. So here I am, with my cake and a handsome stranger in this dark alcove.”

Bold, she was so much bolder than he’d expected of a female with her upbringing. He couldn’t fight the smile off his face.

“Well, you do know my name, Lady. So I would hardly call me a stranger.” He lifted a brow as he said the words.

“Is that so? Well, if you’re not a stranger, tell me something you know about me so that I might consider you a friend.” Helion felt the challenge in her voice–the teasing. He was always thrilled with the chase and rose to the occasion.

“Hmm, Alanna likes cake,” he gestured to the plate to her side and she laughed. “She’s a big fan of reading and sunsets, but only the very orange ones, and….gardening? Oh yes, she loves to garden. Especially sunflowers. She knows they take a lot of love and care to reach the sky, so she gives the sunflowers special attention.” She was smiling at him, something glittering in her eyes.

“Alanna’s favorite color is…light blue.” She made a face. “No, plum.” She straightened up, looking a bit shocked but mostly impressed as he grinned at her broadly. She scooted a bit closer to him. “She likes reading books in sun-warmed windows, and giving her parents great headaches.” She laughed again, close enough that Helion could feel her breath. She smelled like roasting chestnuts and crackling fires and the sugary-sweet frosting of the cake. Helion inhaled greedily, wishing he could bury his face in her neck and never stop.

“So, you’re not a stranger, Helion.” She all but whispered, her breath on his lips.

“No, Alanna. I’m not a stranger.” He whispered back, his amber eyes meeting her russet ones.

“You know what would really scandalize my parents?”

“What’s that?” He knew the answer he wanted to give. He prayed to the Mother and the Cauldron and every god there was or ever had been that she’d give the answer he wanted to hear.

“Kissing a handsome not-so-stranger in a dark alcove during an equinox ball.” His lips were on hers before she finished the sentence, and it felt like an explosion in his chest. There could have been a storm ripping through the halls, and Helion wouldn’t have noticed or cared. Alanna’s lips were soft and insistent, pressing against his with a need that mirrored his own. He buried his hands in her long hair, gently weaving his fingers through and tugging her closer as she sighed into his mouth.

Helion had never experienced a kiss like this, and he’d had many, many kisses in his years. Something compelled him, pushed him, convinced him that he shouldn’t ever let her go. An otherworldly presence was with them in that alcove as he ran his hands down the soft, lovely curves of her body while she climbed into his lap, wrapping her delicate hands around his neck as he leaned into her and pulled her close.

Their kiss deepened and hands began to wander, but Helion had no room in his mind for worry–couldn’t think of anything past the touch of her, the scent of her arousal, her hair falling around their faces.

“Alanna!” They shot apart as though they’d been struck as the voice rang through the hallway on the other side of the tapestry. Alanna doused the dim faelight.

“Shhh, my sister.” She whispered into his ear as he shivered beneath her and she huffed a small laugh as she shifted on his lap. This was a new and very specific type of torture.

“Alanna, I swear, you better be in the gardens.” The voice trailed off as Alanna pulled back, the small light coming back to life to show her grinning at Helion fiendishly.

“I better get back.”

“Write to me.” Helion practically gasped out before his brain could catch up to his heart. “Or let me write to you, Alanna.” He was worried she’d think him too forward, even after the events of the last few minutes, but instead her face lit up like a full moon on a calm lake. She smiled, her teeth catching her lower lip in delight.

“I’d like that very much, Helion.” He was already planning how he would go home and make a bid for her hand. In the back of his mind, he was vaguely aware that only an hour ago the very idea of marriage had made me openly scoff at a festive event, but here, surrounded by Alanna’s scent and the press of her lips still cemented in his mind, he knew he couldn’t see her with another male as long as he lived. He knew he’d move mountains, shatter courts, and begin wars just to see her again.

She pressed a last kiss to his lips, smiling against them as she did. “Give me a few moments before you leave in case anyone is watching.” He nodded. “Until next we meet, lordling.” And she swept through the curtain of the tapestry.

Helion leaned back against the wall, a sigh leaving his chest. He couldn’t shake the feeling that his world had just entirely shifted–the very core of his being felt like it was in a different place than it had been.

Alanna.

As Helion went to leave that night, the daughters were saying goodbye next to their parents, waving off guests as they departed. He made his way through the doors and caught sight of Beron Vanserra, gesturing angrily at the family patriarch and yelling about “keeping the pests outdoors” as he kicked out and missed a weasel weaving through his legs. Helion nearly choked on his laugh as he passed through, his eyes looking back to catch Alanna’s, her laugh lighting up her entire face.

In that moment, a crack sounded through the manor, shaking all the windows and rumbling beneath the floors. Helion nearly jumped from his skin, but no one else reacted as his chest caved in on itself. Like a whip snapping and pulling taught, he was imperceptibly ripped forward, wide eyes shooting up to meet Alanna’s. Her beautiful lips were parted in surprise, shocked and relieved eyes focused on nothing but his as that golden cord pulled tight and settled between them.

Mate.

And in a flash of light, before he could do anything stupid, he winnowed away.

[If you'd like to be added to a taglist, let me know!]

#acotar #acotar fic #helion #helion x loa #lady of autumn #alanna and helion #love you like oxygen #hope of spring

[marvelqueenhere]

Merthur being idiots in love aka self sacrificial

Being attacked and left in the middle of a forest to die is not how Merlin imagined his birthday would be spent. However, when he sees Arthur being in that critical condition, there's not much else to consider but to fix the problem. How can he ensure Arthur is safe? He is breathing so faintly, barely concious with so much blood loss.

Merlin isn't doing much better himself but that's not the point. He knows he doesn't have enough strength to use magic at this stage. But if he used up all his energy, his magic and life force, there's a chance he can save Arthur. He'll take his chances, thank you very much. As for hiding his magic, he couldn't care less at this point. Yes Arthur will be angry, almost feral when he realises and recognises Merlin for the monster he is. But he certainly would rather spend all his energy to transport Arthur to Camelot. After that, it's not like he'll survive anyway. Maybe that betrayal would help Arthur in his grief. (yes, he'll see that Merlin's loss is not worth spending much time over). He knows what he has to do now. He looks at Arthur one last time. Sees him a bit wide eyed and exhausted, trying to roll towards him. He smiles at him one last time. It always has been for you, Arthur, he thinks. My magic, my loyalty, me. It was my absolute honor, serving you, Sire.

Arthur is trying really hard to hold on to his consciousness. He really is, especially after Merlin smiled at him. That idiot! He knows that face. It's his 'I will do whatever it takes because it is the right thing to do face'. He sees his stubborn set of jaw, his shoulders rolled back, as his eyes turn golden..What?! Everything seems to click in slow motion for him. Merlin, despite bleeding and injured as bad as he is, looks positively radiant. He has magic! Right now, covered in blood, oozing out golden light from his body, it seems more apt to say he is magic, rather than he has it. However, he hasn't much time to think of it. Merlin's focus and his determination alarms him. There's definitely something insanely stupidly self sacrificial about it. He can feel his panic rise. In his fear, he instinctually rolls over with all his energy as does the one thing he can think of : hold onto Merlin. Whatever is happening, he knows in his heart he can face it if Merlin is with him, by his side, where he always wishes him to be.

3 days later

He sends for Merlin. He needs to make sure how to keep him safe. He can't think of what would happen if news of Merlin's magic gets out. He arranges the funds to send him away, speaks to someone he knows so he can work. He also makes it that it's halfway between Camelot and his hometown.

Merlin enters. Worn out, dark circles and pale skin. It pains him physically to see him this way. At least he has a trusted horse to take him where he needs to be, with enough money that he can sustain himself comfortably even if he doesn't work at all the coming couple of years.

Merlin's shoulders have a resigned droop, his eyes a sign of quiet peaceful resignation. Arthur wants Merlin to sit comfortably, have a healthy plate and then discuss his plans. Alas he can't afford such a luxury when every minute is an added risk. He had waited for Merlin to recover just enough and it was already 3 days too many.

Merlin walks slowly but surely. However what he does next makes Arthur startle a step back. Merlin comes close enough to him, makes very very brief eye contact, enough to give him a small smile and then kneels! He has his hands behind his back and head bowed enough to almost touch Arthur's ankles.

"Sire, I accept the consequences of what I am. It was my absolute honor to serve you. If you will let me can I ask of you one last wish before I meet my end?"

Arthur has no idea how to respond. What is Merlin talking about? What end ? Sure it might be his last time in Camelot, but Arthur knows and can feel Merlin means something more than that. He's trying very hard not to acknowledge what Merlin is thinking. Merlin takes his shock as hesitation. His face twists before it clears with renewed perseverance. "Please Sire. Gaius has nothing to do with what I am. He's old enough to be spared seeing me burn. If you'll only grant my request to make this a private affair, I'll be infinitely grateful for it"

With horror, Arthur moves with the intention of pulling Merlin up. But he only bows further to touch his forehead to Arthur's feet.

Arthur CANNOT take this anymore. Merlin really thought this of him? after all this time? and came to him like an animal to be slaughtered? His blood boils. He always knew anger is his worst enemy.

To be continued...

#bbc merlin #merlin #merlin x arthur #arthur pendragon #magic reveal #idiots in love #angst

[rahabs]

Holy shit! Doom spiral.

#Brain goes brrr #Brain freaks out about being left behind and left alone #Brain freaks out over being unemployed but freaks out more at the idea of going back into private practice #I barely survived that I can't go back #But I can't seem to get a job anywhere else either #So I get to watch everyone else do well and have careers they like #That give them freedom to have a life #Meanwhile my only viable career path seems to be FUCKING private practice law and that made me want to kms last time #No free time no time off just work work work and lots of deadlines no vacation no space no nothing #Just toxic old men sucking the life out of you #Brain freaks out about not being Normal #Man why is my 'oh shit! I can't have normal relationships!' thing happening at almost 30 #Never bothered me that I wasn't attracted to people before but Now. #Had enough always being the one left behind on the side

[cosmictheo]

𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 | feyd-rautha

(gif credits to @pascow)

— summary: an arranged marriage with feyd-rautha in the name of reconciling your houses was something you were not expecting, neither was the soft and light way he seemed to behave towards you and only you. —pairing: feyd-rautha harkonnen x female!atreides!reader —word count: 3k —warnings: arranged marriage, feyd being gentle and calm because the reader is the love of his life (as it was written), probably ooc!feyd (sorry but i just love to see the most savage and feral men fall on their knees for their s/o)

writer’s note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!

ᯓ★ part one ── part two ── part three (coming soon)

Your arranged marriage to Feyd-Rautha had been the reason for House Atreides and Harkonnen to strengthen their alliance, ensuring that neither would stab each other in the back, which was most expected from the Baron. Your Houses had been wavering on a faint thread that separated you from a war and this marriage arrangement had pacted a reconciliation. It had been your parents' idea and obeying your parents was the most important thing for you, right after protecting your family and indeed that was what you were doing, guarding your family.

Your twin brother did not like the idea, he was not very fond of Feyd-Rautha and his House, moreover, he found him rather... repulsive. For Feyd was a savage, a ruthless and bloodthirsty man.

However, he had to admit that, next to him, you would be basically untouchable, after all, it was like having a guard dog, the most possessive and protective dog, a dog that was ready to kill and ravage for you if necessary.

“He's scary.” Paul's voice echoed inside your head as together you walked along the vast hallways of the Harkonnen palace, at the end of it, Feyd-Rautha stood, engaged in a conversation with your parents, forever as stiff and somber as he had been since you had first met him.

“Just look at him, you'll have to wake up next to him for the rest of your life.” Your brother insisted, throwing you a knowing and concerned look. “We can fix this without you having to marry that man, sister. There must be something—”

“Enough.” you interrupted him, finally dragging your eyes from your betrothed to your anxious brother pacing beside you, you made an effort to offer him a reassuring, soft smile, grateful that he was always so caring and concerned about you and your well-being. “There's nothing else we can do. You know about my visions and what they foresee. Our House will not endure if I do not accept this offer.”

“We will do whatever it takes to survive for now.” You added, holding Paul's gaze, noting the sadness and pity behind his dark eyes, and like the good sister you were, you sighed softly, leaning closer to him to bring him some kind of reassurance. “Our turn will come to make our move and win, brother.”

“Whatever it takes.” He echoed, nodding his head, fingers brushing your clasped hand around his forearm, as you were accustomed to do when you walked side by side.

“The marriage will take place two weeks from now.” The Duke's voice gave out the news once you were all inside the assembly room, with the Baron at the head of the table, of course, looking uncharacteristically approving and pleased to hear the announcement.

The massive man showed his approval with a hint of a phantom, twisted smile, plump fingers taping the edge of the black table in front of him. “We will have the princess as a guest in our home for a week and then the na-Baron will visit her home for the last week, prior to her coming to live here.”

He planned the whole thing and there was absolutely no one in the room who had the idiotic courage to be against his command, so, it was settled.

Once you said goodbye to your family and gave a tight and emotional hug to your brother, you were left alone in the dark and gigantic planet of the Harkonnen family, feeling like an outsider, like a small prey surrounded by bloodthirsty predators. Although, the place possessed an indescribable and incomparable beauty, the sun was black, and the light that irradiated was whitish, giving it a beautiful contrast with all the black buildings rising majestically. But the place was rather... depressing, quiet and somewhat eerie, it was nothing like your home.

You soon felt out of place, and everyone who looked at you could see it too. It was as if you had some kind of golden aura, glowing among all the darkness and gloom of the place.

Feyd-Rautha watched you attentively, analyzing every expression and emotion you let be shown across your face, catching the look your eyes possessed, that special little gleam that flashed in your orbs as you admired Giedi Prime as if it were one of the most beautiful things you had ever seen in your life, his home.

“Do you like it here, my lady?” His husky, raspy voice managed to snap you out of your trance, and your heart skipped a beat once you trailed your gaze from the horizon beneath the balcony to him, meeting his deep, dark gaze. He always seemed to look at you with those eyes, captivated, as if you were some form of strange spectacle.

And indeed you were, you stood in perfect contrast to the planet, your eyes were bright, lively, your aura was vivacious and hopeful. And because of that, he liked to look at you, study your face, your body language, every little reaction you had in response to something. You were fascinating.

Whenever you entered any room, his deep blue eyes were pulled to you like a magnet, drawn to orbit around you like his planet circling the dark sun.

Feyd noticed out of the corner of his eye how your hands clasped lightly around the balcony fence in front of you, skin contrasting against the blackness of the material. 

You nodded your head very slowly, twisting your body just enough to be able to look him directly in the face, big eyes looking up at him, not with fear, but with expectation. “I do.”

Even your voice was the opposite of his, keeping that soft and delicate tone, as elegant as you.

He seemed satisfied with your positive response, and so, he dared to lean against the balcony fence right next to you, but careful not to cause you to feel too uncomfortable or intruded upon. His eyes never left you for a second and he was quite pleased that you were bold enough to hold his powerful and intimidating gaze.

“Good, it will soon become your home too.” Feyd answered you, in a tone that oscillated between amusement and fascination, you didn't quite know how to decipher the expression on his face either, naturally.

He was very complicated to read, even if you tried extra hard, the many tutoring and lessons with Lady Jessica didn't seem to do much use, with him. Perhaps because he made you feel unnerved, he made your soul tremble like no one could, stepping beyond your walls and standing where none of your senses seemed to work. Where the eye could not see.

“Are you mocking me?” Still, you had the courage to ask him that bold question, one eyebrow rising on your forehead and your head twisting slightly, defiant face and all.

Your bravery made him laugh slightly this time, a noise that was heard almost unnaturally, with a small crooked smile on his lips that looked all too unusual and strange on him. For not even his strongest and most powerful enemies had had the courage to stand in front of him and challenge him like you were doing right now. You were a fierce girl. And he liked that.

“I wouldn't be likely to mock you, my lady.” Feyd-Rautha replied calmly, his tone of voice the exact same, as if you were a spectacle. Your eyes lowered to his hand, which snaked slowly to the edge of the balcony fence, fingers stroking the smooth surface. “I'm just stating the obvious. You'll be living here with me soon. It will be our home and you will reign with me when it's my turn.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly at his response, not yet quite convinced that he would behave so calm and composed with you, when not more than two days ago you had seen him slicing men to pieces in the arena. “You are not bothered by me invading your space?”

You asked that question because you knew how... eccentric men usually behaved, you could see it in basically every man with any power you had ever met, in the so many meetings with the Duke back home. You could see how they treated their wives, how they looked at them and how they talked to them, as if they were dealing with a servant. You feared this marriage was like that too.

Even your parents' marriage was broken, since Duke Leto kept close to his heart another woman who was not Lady Jessica, he did not love her as he loved that unknown woman. You had grown up seeing an empty and cold marriage, merely to fulfill a duty.

You understood that your marriage would also have that basis, and therefore, you knew that duty was the death of love. But for some silly, innocent reason, you wanted to think there might be love here. As the naive, young girl that you were.

Feyd-Rautha shrugged, not taking much interest in the matter of the question, “You'll be my wife, my space is your space.”

A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips when he saw that his answer pleased you. You could begin to understand that to him the whole arranged marriage thing wasn't as important as it was to you, or maybe it was, but it didn't seem to bother him or disagree.

“Does this marriage bother you?” It was his turn to ask, staring down at you, noticing how beautifully your skin reflected the pale natural light of the black sun. He could see how frustrated you were now, to be there, with him. “Does it bother you to be my wife?”

You sighed heavily, peeling your eyes from Feyd-Rautha and returning them to the beauty of the landscape below, pondering the questions. His dark eyes followed your every movement as your body turned forward again, hands gripping the balcony fence as if your life depended on it.

“Do you care much for my opinion of you?” You decided to answer him with another question and that seemed to annoy him for his frown deepened and his fingers halted on the fence, devoting himself to glaring at you with his azure eyes, mirroring the pallid light of the gloomy sun.

“Woman, I will marry you and live by your side for the rest of my life, of course your opinion is important.” He took a couple of steps closer to you as he spoke, hand closer and closer to yours, managing to make you even more nervous. “Don't speak nonsense, it doesn't suit you. You're a smart girl.”

Seeing the expression on your face, he leaned even closer and out of the corner of your eye you watched as his hand rose to your face, resting on your chin and turning it ever so gently for you to look at him, but your eyes lowered, fleeing from his.

It seemed astonishing to him that you didn't even flinch away when you sensed the approach of his hand to your face, as if it wasn't the same hand that had slaughtered so many and slit so many necks by the same motion.

“Don't take your eyes off me.” He demanded in a low, raspy tone of voice, you could feel his breath brush against your face. “Look at me.”

When he whispered your name in that delicate, nearly pleading tone, you finally summoned the courage to look at him, allowing him to cradle your chin between his fingers and allowing him to be so close to you that you felt suffocated by the warmth of his body against yours.

“You fear me?”

He asked in that tone of voice, whispering, silently asking you to have mercy on him, not to fear him as everyone usually feared him, not to see him as the monster everyone saw, but as your husband, your protector and your lover.

He saw how your eyes watered slightly as fear peered into your usual stoic, cold face, and Feyd-Rautha was used to beholding that face, was used to fear, because it was always the last look of his enemies.

“I'm afraid. Of leaving home, of living on an unknown planet, of marrying someone I don't know.” Then you shook your head softly, looking up at him through your long eyelashes. “But I am not afraid of you, Feyd-Rautha.”

“You're very bold... and emotional.” He whispered in a disapproving but gentle voice, fingers tracing barely a caress along your lower lip before he reached up and dried the couple of tears that had managed to escape from your pretty eyes. At the closeness, you could begin to see through the mask he always carried, hiding his emotions. “You can't let yourself look like this in front of your enemies, it will make you appear weak.”

“I can't let myself look like this in front of my future husband?” his dark eyes lowered to your lips as you modulated the question, pupils dilating slightly. You swallowed as you saw desire and lust darken his orbs even more when you referred to him as your husband. You sniffed, feeling suddenly embarrassed by your outburst of emotions. “I'm s—sorry. You shouldn't see me like this, my lord.”

“Don't apologize.” He again reprimanded you in that passive-aggressive tone of his, like a hiss of a snake, shaking his head a little. Even after he wiped away your little tears, his hands remained in the same place, cupping your face, each of his thumbs resting on your flushed cheekbones.His fingertips were surprisingly gentle against your skin, sending shivers all over your body beneath their path. “You can be like this only with me, you understand? You can trust me, I want you to trust me.” His fingers took a lock of your hair and pulled it away from your face, running it carefully behind your ear. “But I really don't like to see you cry, my wife-to-be.”

After barely a second of silence with his azure eyes again flicking down to your parted lips, he spoke again, muttering, his raspy voice indicating that perhaps it hurt his throat to talk like that. “Pretty girls like you should cry out of pleasure only.”

He studied your face once more, not missing the way you blushed at his open flirtation and suggestive words, how you bit your lower lip, pupils expanding in thick blackness. You weren't used to so much attention, let alone men saying those kinds of words to you, it was evident. You were so innocent that it provoked a rare feeling of tenderness in Feyd-Rautha.

Perhaps it would be the closest thing to an act of consolation you would get from him and it was likely the only time in his life he had ever done that.

Promptly, you managed to make him smile again. “You Atreides are so strange and delicate... but then again, you will soon be Harkonnen, the prettiest na-Baroness, my pretty little wife.”

From his voice, his careful choice of words and the way he was looking at you, you expected him to kiss you right there —perhaps that was what you wanted, amidst all the tumult of emotions that shook your little heart, beating in rumbling noises inside your chest, pumping fiery blood through your veins.

But after a few seconds, he pulled his hands away from your face and backed away from you, taking a few steps back and offering you a look that you managed to perceive as soft rather than harsh. You knew that he was controlling himself well in maintaining a good demeanor, perhaps because his uncle had ordered him to do so; to do his best to make a good impression and not bring shame to the family. And also because he wanted you to have a good image of him, he was a prideful man, he was used to boast of his virtues and his power, and he was above all, protective of his own person and his glory.

He made a short gesture with his head pointing to the open balcony door, his hands clasping together behind his back pragmatically, as if he were presenting himself in front of a superior. “Now come, pretty girl, I'll show you the palace myself. You're future home.”

You walked towards him, a little smile curving your lips, the first smile on your face during the entire conversation, and he admired it in all it's glory.

“You don't have to be all stiff when you're with me, Feyd.” You eyed his posture with light eyes as you passed him and made your way inside the guest room with graceful steps, him following close behind.

He wasn't very fond of being addressed by name directly, of having his name used so freely, but the way you pronounced his name made him so utterly proud to be called that, he suddenly was wishing you would just call him that, in that tone of voice, tongue savoring his name as if it were the most delightful thing to say.

You turned to look at him for a few seconds, your tone of voice becoming reassuring, something he wasn't quite used to, yet he heard and savored it as if it were the sweetest thing in the world.

“If you can see me cry, then I can see you relaxed. It is only fair, no?”

Feyd-Rautha received your words positively, causing him to deepen his breathing into a snorting chuckle, eyes sparkling with amusement now behind your back.

“I'll try for you.” His response made you smile once more.

#dune 2 #dune #dune part two #dune imagine #dune movie #dune one shot #dune x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #paul atreides #paul atreides x reader #cosmictheo #feyd x reader #dune part 2 #feyd x you #feyd oneshot

[risuola]

YOU CRYIN'? — F. READER x GOJO SATORU

You and Gojo know each other since high school, and since then, you also hate each other. He bites and you always bite back, the constant argument creates tension that everybody, except you two, seem to notice. One time you said too much, causing Gojo’s self-control to snap.

cw: smut, unprotected sex, creampie, cursing, mentions of bullying (Satoru is a meanie, ok?), overstimulation, enemies to lovers kind of vibe, I feel like the "you cryin'?" line in itself is a warning if you heard the dub version of it, reader discretion is advised — 1,4k words

» PART TWO

"You cryin'?", Satoru taunted, thrusting his hips relentlessly into yours, with a handful of your hair in his unforgiving grip. Standing behind you, with one hand digging into the supple flesh of your side to steady himself, he was pounding behavior into you.

You and Satoru Gojo have a history of never-ending venom-spitting and it's safe to say you hated the man and the man hated you with passion for years now. It started in high school, where you just couldn't stand how full of himself he was, looking at everybody from above as if he was so much better than everyone and yes, you are aware of how powerful of an individual he is but the arrogance that came with it was just unbearable. Much more you liked his closest friend Suguru, but as years passed, you found yourself working closely with Gojo more and more often, because you decided to stay at Jujutsu high in Tokyo to help students learn. You were strong enough to be considered a high 1st grade sorcerer and everything you achieved, you earned by hard work and stubbornness but that didn’t stop the know-it-all from bullying you, no. He had an awful habit of pouring more fuel into the constant fire of argument between you two and you never owed him, always biting back. That being said, your constant bickering with Satoru successfully brought you to where you were now.

Pressed against the wooden desk, sweaty and exhausted as your body was chasing the fourth orgasm with no break in between. It was a torture – the way he was slamming his cock inside of you at the pace that left you breathless, it hurt from overstimulation and burned with pleasure at the same time. You always acted tough, but now you couldn't stop the tear rolling down your cheek as his grip on your hair tightened and his teeth sank into the delicate skin between your neck and shoulder.

"You’re really cryin’”, he grinned teasingly and turned your head more to the side, kissing the tear away. Delighted at the sight, Satoru pulled back and flipped you over so he could see your pretty face when he pushed his girth back onto your swollen insides, kissing every oversensitive spot on his way while hooking your thighs over his hips. You dug fingers into his skin, leaving crescent moon shapes of your nails engraved into his flesh and you once again could feel his pace picking up. Naively, you grabbed at his hip, trying to slow him down but with no effect.

"So pretty, fuck, when you cry like that," he grunted, kissing along the salty trace on your face and down your neck to see the bruising mark of his teeth was already blooming with reds and purples. "Think you have few more in you?", he asked and the thought of few more orgasms terrified you. "You'll have to, 'm nowhere near to be done, wit' ya," a chuckle echoed in his chest and you couldn't tell if his objective was to kill you in the most humiliating way possible or what.

"N-no," you protested and he laughed once more, pulling out almost completely.

"No?", Satoru grined in his usual, annoyingly handsome manner but you barely saw him through the collage of stars in your sight, "'ts too bad you've been naughty lately. Need to fuck some behavior into you."

"Gojo-", you whined, helpless against his muscular body as he was ramming ruthlessly, abusing your swollen oversensitive insides to your limits.

"Nuh-uh", he wrapped his slender fingers around your throat, putting no pressure, but redirecting your head so you looked him in the eyes and you could drown in the crystalline blue tones surrounded by thick snowy eyelashes if you wouldn't know better. "That's not my name, sweetheart."

"Go to hell, Goj-, fuck", you whined and he thrusted harder, your back was slamming against the wooden counter but he was unbothered by the echoing pounding sound that clearly was indicating what was happening in his office.

"That's. not. my. name.", he growled, accentuating every word with a particularly sharp thrust and it was enough for you to drown in the haziness.

"Sa-, uh", you tried, but his pace was unforgiving, his cock fucking you dumb but he hummed teasingly, encouraging you to speak. "'toru- fuck. Satoru, please."

"There we go, wasn't that hard now, was it?", smiling, the sorcerer lifted you up, angling his hips upwards, his cock reaching even deeper although you thought it's impossible. The blunt head kissed every spot inside you and you felt another orgasm approaching. Satoru groaned at how your walls were flexing around his girth and this time, he chased his own, the first one, the one he's been denying himself in order to drive you insane.

He was panting heavily, groaning against your neck, profanities slipping through his mouth as he twitched inside you. Suddenly he grabbed you harshly, nails digging into your trembling thighs and he lowered himself on the expensive leathery chair, giving you a slap to the tender skin, silently ordering you to work. You straddled him, supporting your hands over his shoulders and you pushed him against the back rest, surely bruising his muscles with the harsh grip you had on him. You were desperate to finish him off, to put an end to the torture he’s subjected you to for talking too much. At this point you don’t even remember what caused his composure to snap, what has gotten you into the endless spiral of agonizing pleasure with a man you despised. The man that now you were riding with the last bits of your power, fighting the mind-numbing rush of your own release to bring him to his and you could tell how close he was. Satoru’s jaws were clenched, his fingers were digging harshly into the tender skin of your sides and his hips were bucking up uncontrollably, desperate to reach the blissful relief. His abs were flexing, cock was twitching and his tone became ragged as he groaned what sounded like your name entwined with endless amounts of fucks and yeses. His eyes closed shut and he threw his head back, suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling that began uncoiling in his entire body. You grabbed at his white hair, smearing open mouthed kisses all over his throat and collar bones, and your movements stuttered with your dripping pussy squelching for the nth time. That was enough for Satoru – he gave in, allowing his muscles to contract one last time as he spilled his load into you, filling you completely with warmth and you were quick to come right after him. Your ups and downs became sloppy, uneven as you slowly ride your highs out and finally, you raised your hips just enough to have him out.

Falling back heavily against his body, you leaned your head over his shoulder in hopes to calm the panting. You felt your heart drumming against your ribcage, you felt the concoction of juices running down your thigh and dripping onto Satoru’s legs, but you couldn’t care less. With his hands releasing your flesh that he was squeezing unwaveringly, you felt your body finally relaxing, your mind coming back to senses and it slowly came to you, what just happened.

Never, not even once in your life, you considered even willing to kiss Gojo Satoru. Yes, he’s annoyingly handsome; yes, his eyes are the most beautiful, magical blue crystalline spheres nature could ever create, and yes – there was a tension between you two since the day you met him, or at least everyone around always pointed that out but you never truly considered him an option and yet, you not only kissed him, but spend god-knows-how-long fucking him – or rather being fucked by him.

“You have to misbehave more often”, he teased, finally able to form his words coherently and you looked at him, eyes still cloudy but you could tell with no mistake that his lips were curled up in a smirk. You almost heard him smirking, that’s how obvious it was. You blinked, clearing your vision to take in his view. Gojo’s face was blissfully tired, he still was breathing though his mouth and the snowy peaks of his hair clung artistically to his sweaty forehead. He was stunning like this, so fucked out, he looked like he’s high and you took few mental pictures of his handsome daze. You also noted to yourself that you, indeed, need to misbehave more frequently.

» PART TWO

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru imagines #gojo imagines #gojo satoru #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen #you cryin?

[floatyflowers]

Dark Platonic! Fire Nation Royal Family x Non-bender Reader

With Ozai:

At first he didn't accept the fact that you, his youngest child, is a non-bender, and ignored your existence.

That was until he noticed how his older brother, Iroh, spends time with you, Ozai got extremely jealous.

And decided to spend time with you, only to realize that you are his favorite child, and felt like an actual father.

Yes, you can't firebend nor do you even have the ability to protect yourself.

But why would you need to protect yourself when your father is going to be the Phoenix king of the fire nation?

Ozai will burn down the world for you.

"You, my sweet child, will grow up in the presence of a very powerful father"

With Ursa:

When Ursa found out that you couldn't bend, she became overprotective of you to the point of paranoia.

Since childhood, she refused to allow you to play with anyone except Zuko.

One time, one of her handmaidens scolded you harshly for playing outside without your mother's permission which resulted in you bursting into tears.

The next day, that handmaiden was fired and Ursa made sure that she gets no other jobs.

While thinking of escaping, she thought to take you with her.

However, Ozai has forbidden that from happening.

"When you find out the truth, promise to come find me"

With Azulon

While still alive, he made sure you had the best education and guards.

Azulon also made sure to have you believe that the fire nation is without mistakes or faults.

He tried manipulating you into believing that just your loyalty to your people is enough duty.

However, you are kind, too kind.

Yet, he Azulon didn't hate you for it even if he considered a weak trait to have in the royal family.

He also still has the flower crown you made him stored away safely so it doesn't rot.

It is rumored that the last word he muttered was your name.

With Iroh

Uncle Iroh isn't really as possessive as the other characters, but he focuses on advising you from time to time.

You enjoy drinking tea with him and gossiping about everything.

Even though, Ozai has forbidden him from speaking with you, you would sneak behind your father's back to drink tea with him.

After the loss of his son in the war, Lu Ten, Iroh felt depressed.

Yet you managed to comfort him with your cheerfulness and playful attitude.

It reminded him of his son.

"The best quality in a princess is her kindness, something which your sister clearly lacks"

With Zuko

Zuko thought you would be like Azula but you have proven him wrong.

You are kind, gentle, and nurturing just like your and his mother.

That's why Zuko always found himself by your side, being your playmate...being your protecter.

His mother told him that it's his duty to protect you from danger considering that he is your older brother.

Even though Azula has never hurt you, but Zuko was always wary of her, especially after his mother disappeared.

When Ozai challenged him to an Agni Kai, you were the first to cry out and plead with him to let Zuko off, but Ozai felt jealous of your relationship with Zuko and was determined to teach his son a lesson.

However when your brother got banished, Zuko took you with him in secret not wanting you to be left with Azula.

"I know the journey will take long but once I restore my honor we can return home together"

With Azula

Azula was extremely jealous when you were born, thinking that you will take all the attention from here.

But she realized that you deserve all the attention.

You didn't treat her like a monster, you weren't scared of her.

Instead you showed her love and called her 'big sister'

You would cling to her as a toddler, whenever there was lightning, you would secretly sneak to her room and sleep beside her.

"How can you be scared of lightning, we control it, silly"

Mai and Ty Lee saw how Azula softens whenever you are around.

And when Azula discovered that you have left with Zuko, she destroyed everything in her way and burned a few servants.

"She's mine, and only MINE"

#tw: toxic relationships #avatar the last airbender #Yandere #platonic yandere #zuko x reader #yandere ozai #Yandere zuko #Yandere Azula #sister reader #daughter reader #readerinsert

[recycledraccoon]

What if....

Damien and Danyal Al Ghul are twins. Danyal takes heavily after Bruce but Damien is a perfect mix of their parents, and he came out of the artificial womb first, so Damien is decided to be the heir.

Growing up in the League is hard, but Damien excels in a way that Danyal doesn't, because for all the potential Danyal has, he hates the killing and there is a rebellious streak evident even as young as they are. A rebellious streak is a...very dangerous thing to have. Grandfather won't kill Danyal, for as ruthless as he is he doesn't kill his own lineage. But that is not to say that the additional "training" Danyal goes through is merciful.

Damien and Danyal love each other, not just as brothers but also in the way partners do when they don't even have to blink to anticipate the others actions in the midst of action. Which is why Damien, not even yet six, can see the way Danyal is being broken down under the burden of their joint legacy.

So many times, in so many of the universes in which he exists, Danyal Al Ghul is or is seemingly killed, of which is the catalyst for his escape from the League of Assassins, and his brother is left behind thinking him truly dead.

In this universe, when the Demon Twins are out on a training mission (an assassination of a target so easy it's beneath the League for anything other than the simplest of first training missions) a massive earthquake occurs.

They are alive at the end, but both their communication devices are beyond repair. Damien is more roughed up than Danyal at the end, but both are dirty and bloodied.

This is an unprecedented opportunity, of which Damien knows deep down he will never get again.

He loves his brother deeply, but Danyal is weak, always hesitating before the kill, hands shaking. Damien loves his brother and fighting side by side, but he values more the quiet moments when Danyal is looking at star maps and trying to match them up with the sky above their home or making snarky comments about their trainers under his breath. (After when they can't hear Damien doesn't laugh but Danyal always knows he agrees and is amused.)

Grandfather's and Mother's additional training to bring Danyal up to Damien's level is making Danyal go quiet and emotionless and Damien is selfish.

(Damien convinces his twin brother to leave the League of Assassins.)

Damien drags himself to the rendezvous point and returns home alone, reporting the target dead and his brother lost under rock in the quake, body unable to be recovered. He is colder, furious at the world and himself. He pushes and pushes and PUSHES himself. He is the last remaining of a set and he will prove himself perfect to carry the title of Heir perfectly and without reproach. He is more loyal day by day, the guilt his selfishness and betrayal of his family a deep sting he can't ignore.

Talia does search, but so many bodies were lost or unidentified inside mass graves. She grieves and then refocuses on her remaining son without looking back. Grandfather laments the loss, but cares little for the spare in the long run.

Meanwhile, Danyal hid himself long enough to sneak onto one of many transports filled with foreign aid. He is small and sneakier than any average stowaway, and remains undetected all the way to the US.

He doesn't go to Gotham to find his father, but picks a direction at random and leaves, until eventually he's picked up and put in the system. Bouncing around until one day, not long after he turns seven, the Dr.'s Fenton and their young daughter are visiting in their search to adopt their second child. (A combination of genetics and radiation from their earliest experiments in college leaving the pair with low fertility rates and very high risks if they ever did get pregnant. The two get procedures early on and adopt Jazz when she is still fairly young, but wait until she is a bit older before adopting again.)

Danyal Al Ghul had an older twin brother.

Daniel Fenton doesn't think he could handle having an older brother again, but an older sister is acceptable.

Danyal left to go full civilian, and when Damien had sent him off decided he would carry that knowledge to his grave if he must. He tells no one, and does not even mention ever having a twin when he goes to live with their Father in Gotham. If Mother did not tell Father of the deceased son, then neither will Damien.

Danyal Al Ghul is dead, and Damien will keep it that way.

.

.

.

.

(The greatest secret is this: The two have never lost contact. It is very easy, during a natural disaster, to steal a pair of burner phones, each with one number only on them and prepaid with enough stolen funds to last years. Danny smuggles his with him in one piece, Damien smuggles his in pieces, ready to be hidden and repaired when necessary. He checks it scarcely, but every few months is enough to make sure his twin is alive. When he goes to live with Father in Gotham, they communicate a bit more frequently. This remains his most fiercely protected secret.)

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp prompt #dpxdc #dp x dc prompt #danny and damian are twins #oops this was in my drafts for a hot minute might as well post it now while I'm NOT on mobile for once

[vanderlesbian]

dating simon riley means constant clinginess. large arms wrapped around your waist at any given moment, simon is most comfortable when he's holding you. after being away from a long mission, he'll find you wherever you are in your shared apartment and silently crawl into your arms like a puppy. he'll bury his face into the crook of your neck, slowly inhaling to bask in your scent that he missed more than anything. with an amused chuckle, you'll wrap your arms around his warm torso, gently rubbing his back. "no hello?" you'll tease, to which you always earn a content hum in response, along with simon's hold tightening ever so slightly.

dating simon riley means lots of playful teasing. if you make a typo in a text message, he'll begin spelling the word as your typo for the rest of the day. if you believed in a silly fact, he'd bring it up for the rest of your life. "this is like when you thought our blood was actually blue" he'd snicker, which would cause you to whine for him to stop and swat his arm.

dating simon riley means constantly being cared for. simon is a man who can do everything, or at least tries to. he somehow manages to get to all the chores before you do, which has ended in you reassuring him that you can handle it many, many times. when doing something potentially dangerous like standing on a ladder, handling a knife or using tools, simon will constantly glance in your direction to make sure something won't slip and injure you. like a spidey sense, he's quick to pull you away or come to your rescue if you're in a situation where you're about to hurt yourself. "you alright?" he'll mumble softly, dark eyes laced with worry that is a rare sight to be seen by anyone else.

dating simon riley means you have a second wardrobe. his large clothes are just too comfortable to resist, and he's often left searching the apartment for a shirt that you had placed amongst your own clothes. though, he makes no effort to steal them back from you, as seeing you in his tshirt, his boxers and his hoodie fills him with a loving possessiveness. he'll walk into the kitchen to see you turned away as you wash dishes, wearing one of his shirts as a short dress. managing to silently sneak behind you even with his bulky frame, he'll wrap his arms around you from behind and place a kiss against the nape of your neck. "you look so pretty in my shirt, love." he'll then purr into your ear.

dating simon riley means seeing a side of him that many never do. whether it be physically or personality wise, you see so much of simon that you can't remember the last time you referred to him as ghost. his large pointy nose, his dirty blonde hair that he always forgets to fix in the mornings, and his lopsided smile that appears when you tell the corniest of jokes are all things that many have never seen and never will. he speaks so softly to you; a low tone that you can feel reverberating in his chest when you lay against him. simon is kind, patient and vulnerable with you, and will mutter the words "i love you" against your lips, just loud enough for only you to hear.

dating simon riley means being friends with the rest of the 141. you were the one who wished to host hangouts at your apartment, wanting those closest to simon to like you. despite their intimidating demeanors, you quickly realized just how kind they were. they know just how important you are to simon, which is a rare feat in itself, so they would never treat you in an ill manner. soap will always refer to you as "the missus" when speaking to simon, which never fails to make you giggle when you overhear their conversations.

masterlist

#just a small blurb bc i wanted to write smth #im working on fics i promise!! #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost cod #call of duty #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #mw2 #mw3 #modern warfare #fluff #headcanons #x reader #imagine

[misserabella]

46-58

abby anderson x fem! reader

summary; abby loses her match, and when her frustration takes the best of her, she takes it out on you.

cw; +18 content! minors dni!, swearing, abby getting mad, harsh treatment, rough sex, name calling (whore, slut), spanking, clit slapping, fingering (r receiving), strap-on sex (r receiving), multiple orgasms, degrading and praising, abby being really rough, breeding kink (😵‍💫), abby uses reader like a toy, hair pulling, making out, finger sucking, cum eating, squirting, use of pet names instead of y/n…

abby was losing. and abby hated losing.

24-39. a 15 point difference.

“fuck!” she hissed, sending the ball flying against a wall, making the other team wince in fear. and who wouldn’t. abby, with her 6,3ft and muscles could make anyone shake in their place.

“anderson!” her coach reprimanded her, and she huffed. you were worried about her. you could clearly see she was frustrated. but at the same time you couldn’t help the way her roughness made you feel. your thighs pressed against the other as you bit down on your lip as you felt your clit throb. why did this turn you on so badly?

you had come to her game to cheer for her, her sweater —with her name on the back— engulfing you and almost hiding your pink skirt. you loved the size difference in between the two of you.

you loved watching abby play, there was something about it, about the way she moved, that made it impossible for you to pull your eyes away from her. she was good. she was the captain for a reason and due to that she always took it personal when the match would go sideways even if it wasn’t her fault. she was too hard on herself.

“referee please!” she yelled, huffing when a player from the other team hit her and yet he didn’t count it as a foul. next time he did indeed called it was when abby did a blockage. “oh come on! are you fucking serious?! i didn’t touch her!” one of her teammates went to her, stopping her on her tracks. “fucking dick…” she muttered, shaking her head. you squirmed when she tossed the ball to the referee a little bit too harsh, winning a warning from her coach. but she was too good, he couldn’t risk to sit her on the bench.

“come on abs, don’t get frustrated, it’s alright.” one of her teammates tried to cheer her up, and then her eyes were on you. her beautiful blue eyes. you trembled.

there were 5 minutes left.

the time was flying by.

30-43

the crowd was roaring, cheering for their respective teams.

“come on abby…” you muttered. she was chugging water, her whole body and strong arms covered in shiny sweat.

she did her best to diminish the point difference, running from side to side of the court and scoring as many points as she could.

but sadly enough, despite her best efforts, they ended up losing.

46-58

the glowing red numbers were like a mock to her face.

she cursed, sitting on the bench with her head in between her hands. her coach made his best to not let it consume her, as so did her teammates, but she was blaming herself. and she was frustrated… furious.

you watched as both teams shook their hands congratulating each other for the game and took their things to leave.

you left the stairs and made your way down to meet with your girlfriend, who didn’t even look at you and simply started walking towards her car, having you following her behind like a lost sad puppy.

she didn’t say a word though the whole way back to your shared apartment, the silence and heavy atmosphere inside the car making your skin crawl.

you watch her muscled back as you made your way inside the apartment, abby harshly leaving her bag on the floor. she could feel her blood boiling, her hands shaking in adrenaline and rage.

“abby.” you called out for her, touching her shoulder, gently. but there was nothing gentle in the way she was now pressing you against the wall, both of your hands on the side of your face.

“shut the fuck up.” she growled, taking your lips in a rough kiss that had your lungs begging for air. “i’m so fucking mad.” she groaned, sucking on your neck, and you whined, feeling one of her legs push up in between your own and against your throbbing cunt. “you know what i need right now, isn’t that right, doll?” you nodded. “yeah, you do. so you’re gonna stay quiet and let me fuck you, hm?” you moaned, nodding once again, feeling heat pooling in between your legs, her voice was low, dangerous. and you couldn’t help but want to satisfy her, to make her feel better. “atta girl.” she went back to kissing you, one hand taking a hold on your wrists to push your hands over your head as the other came down to the seam of her hoodie, pushing it up just to discover that you were wearing nothing underneath. “well would you look at that… you were ready for it, huh?” she chuckled, her free hand pinching one of your nipples, making your back arch and a whimper fall from your lips. “wether i lose or win i was gonna fuck you anyways, so why bother… isn’t that right, doll?” she teased you, grinding her thigh against your clothed and aching cunt. “but we both know that you like it best when i lose, right? you get off by me being mean to you.” her lips latched to your neck, slowly making their way up to your ear. “my girl just needs me to be rough with her, huh?” you shivered, nodding, your cheeks flushed in embarrassment. she was right. “fucking answer to me when i speak.” the hand that had been rolling your nipple harshly spanked one of your thighs, making your skin burn and you let out a needy moan.

“yes, abby.” she hummed.

“good girl. now, why don’t you go wait for me in our bed, hm? and take off your clothes, want to see you spread and open for me once i get there.” you nodded, and she let go of your wrists.

you followed her command, getting to your bedroom as you heard the faucet of the bathroom opening. she had probably gone to clean her hands. you quickly got rid of your clothes, letting them aside on the floor before getting in bed, your back against the duvet and your legs spread for her to see your now drooling cunt. you wanted nothing more than to reach out in between them and touch yourself, get some relief. but you knew better. you knew abby wouldn’t like that, so you sat there, waiting for her to come to you.

she didn’t take long.

when she came back she was on her underwear and sports bra. muscles on display and pumped due to the recent exercise. you were drooling.

“look at you.” she shook her head, her eyes on your pretty cunt. her pretty cunt. “open up for me, darling, let me see you.” she said, and you blushed, letting one of your hands trail down in between your thighs, your index and middle finger making contact with your folds to spread them and show your twitching entrance to her. she groaned. “so fucking pretty.” you moaned. “and so wet… you’re soaked, princess. all that ‘cause i’m mean to you? you’re a slut.” your thighs shook at the name, your clit throbbed, awaiting to be touched. “you like it when i take it out on you, baby? when i use you like a little toy?” you nodded, making her need to fuck you bigger. “of course you do. ‘cause that’s all you are, my pretty little toy.” you watched as she made her way to the bed, abs flexing, strong thighs spreading. your back arched when her fingers met your exposed and open pussy, a whimper ripping your throat when she slapped your clit. “you just can’t wait to be fucked, can you?” your eyes rolled to the back of your head when she suddenly and harshly pushed two of her thick fingers inside your tight walls. “sucking my fingers right in like the whore you are.”

“abby…!” you whined as she started to fuck them in and out of you. they slid so easily. you were so wet for her. it was embarrassing, how much control she had over you.

“haven’t even started fucking you yet and look at how drenched you are.“ you moaned, your hips rutting against her touch, making her chuckle. “so desperate…”

“please, abby, please… fuck me, please.” you begged.

“want me to fuck you baby? want me to use you?” she inquired and you nodded.

“yes, please. use me. use me.” you pleaded, eyes tearing up. you needed her so badly it hurt. you were so turned on…

she took her fingers out of you, looking at how they shone with your slick before pushing them inside her mouth to taste you. you whimpered as she hummed.

“get on your knees baby, ass up.” she ordered, and you followed, laying with your tummy down against the sheets and your knees holding your ass up, your back arched as your chest rested against the mattress. you knew this was how she liked to have you, with both your holes showing. she relished on your muffled moans and cries against the pillows, how you’d hold the sheets in between your hands for support as she pounded her cock inside of you.

she put on the strap, buckling it around her hips as she stared at your drooling pussy, slick now pooling on your thighs in droplets. she groaned. she couldn’t wait to have you creaming her dick. it was big. around the 7 inches, and purple, with ridges and a great girth.

you gasped when you felt the tip tease your folds, bumping against your clit. abby was using your arousal to lube herself up. you could feel your cheeks burning at the sound of your slick folds engulfing her tip, the neediness of your twitching hole to be filled and fucked.

one of her hands took your hip as the other guided the strap to your hole, pushing in in a harsh and quick sudden thrust that had you gripping the sheets and screaming. “thaat’s it. fucking take it.” your breath got punched out of your lungs as she started to fuck you open on it, hitting your g spot with every snap of her hips. “be a good doll and sit pretty for me while i fuck you, hm?” you moaned, feeling your walls squeezing the silicone and sucking it in. her pace quickened, harshly fucking into you as she grunted. your moans were getting cut by each thrust, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you tried to stay up on your legs, although you couldn’t. that’s why abby was there for, grabbing your hips with such strength that will leave the marks of her fingertips on your skin. “fucking shit. pussy so good taking my cock. look at it. fucked open and drooling for more.” you whimpered, your tits bouncing and hardened nipples brushing against the sheets, making your mind feel fuzzy.

you were a babbling and moaning mess, begging for more, pleading for her to take her anger out on you, to fuck you harder, faster.

she groaned, pistoning into you until you were nothing but a body for her to let her frustrations out on. shit. she was fucking your brains out. one of her hands gripped your hair, pushing you against the sheets to keep you in place, abusing you g spot over and over and over again.

“abby!” you screamed, your walls squeezing shut around her cock, your orgasm building up on your lower stomach.

“that’s it baby. louder. let me hear you. who’s cock are you taking, hm? whose pussy is this, huh?” she inquired, and when she didn’t hear and answer she spanked you, making your body jolt.

“yours!!”

“fucking right.” she growled.

“gonna cum!” you cried out.

“yeah? you gonna cum, doll? gonna cream my cock? gonna drip for me?” you nodded. “of course you are. now be good for me and let me have it. let me see you fall apart.”

she didn’t have to ask twice, your orgasm hitting and drowning you like a tidal wave, making your world turn white and your ears ring as your moans became louder and louder.

abby fucked you through it, never backing down and keeping the same intensity, what made your orgasm last what seemed like ages. and when you thought it would die down it just kept growing.

“abby, i’m gonna cum again, i’m gonna, oh fuck!” you cried out, feeling it turn into something else. your thighs soaking wet in your squirt as your back arched, her cock sliding in and out of your pussy so easily…

abby groaned, the back of the strap rubbing her clit in just the perfect way.

“there it is…” she muttered, relishing on the sight, on the sound of the splashing of your juices against her hips and strap. “pussy feeling so good is crying for me.” you took it. took her anger, her frustration… but it was…

“too much! too much!” you begged, one of your hands scratching at her abs as she kept fucking you, but it didn’t stop her, the hand that pressed your head down taking both of your wrists behind your back to pull from you and on her dick. you screamed, feeling her on your cervix, and squirting non stop.

“fucking take it. stop being a fucking baby and take it.” she grunted, feeling her orgasm approaching. “gonna cum so hard. gonna fill you up, princess, fuck a baby into this pretty pussy of yours. gonna leave you dripping for a week, doll.” you whimpered.

“yes, please, cum inside, cum inside! want your cum please, abby please…” you pleaded. and that’s what made it for her.

“look at you. completely cock drunk... yeah? you want it? then take it. fuck. fucking take it.” she groaned, harshly and quickly fucking into you as she hit her peak, watching you squirt like crazy as she came and soaked her boxers. she fucked the two of you through it. by the time she was finished the sheets completely soaked.

she let go of you, your cunt trying to still suck her in, making you whine as she pulled out of you and let go of your wrists, making you fall against the sheets. you were breathless, boneless. she had fucked you completely dumb. your whole body was shaking in exhaustion and the high of your orgasms.

your cum was coating the base of her strap in a white ring, and your cunt shone under the lights of your bedroom, puffy folds reddish and swollen due to her abuse.

it was needless to say that abby wasn’t angry anymore.

-

a/n; reader is me while my crush got frustrated playing today 😫🤭

#abby anderson x female reader #abby smut #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson tlou2 #abby the last of us #abby tlou #tlou abby #abby x you #abby x reader #abby anderson #abby anderson x fem! reader #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson drabble #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson x you