#and the tone she let exist in her voice when she responded to me with a very uncharacteristic “Oh Katie.”

[goldkirk]

I DON'T HAVE TO LIE ANYMORE!

[rafecameronssl4t]

Chosen || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader (love island au)

Summary: (lil backstory) you and Rafe have been a couple since day one and are pretty closed off but a new bombshell has come and chose Rafe for a date and now it’s time for her to choose who she wants to couple up with.

Warnings: angst

Word count: 2,070

A/n: Inspired by the whole ordeal between rob liv and leah in love island usa lol SECOND PART IS HERE

MASTERLIST (love island au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

The villa was buzzing with the usual pre-recoupling jitters, and as you sat at your vanity, carefully applying the final touches of makeup, you heard Rafe’s voice echo down the hallway. “Babe,” he called out, his tone relaxed yet filled with that casual affection you’d grown to love. “Yeah, I’m in here!” you responded, smiling to yourself.

Through the mirror, you caught the familiar image of him entering, his sandy-blonde hair tousled, sun-kissed skin accentuating the sharp angles of his face. Your eyes met in the mirror, and the edges of his mouth softened into a smile that made your heart flutter.

“You okay?” he asked, stepping closer and bending down to press a gentle kiss to your shoulder, lingering just long enough to make you feel like he was truly checking in. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” you chuckled, meeting his eyes in the mirror with a playful glint. He watched your reflection intently, as if trying to read your every expression.

“Just making sure,” he murmured, pulling a chair up beside yours. He settled in, crossing his arms, his gaze steady as he watched you apply the last bit of powder. You raised an eyebrow, feigning a casual tone. “Why? Should I be worried? Is there something you’re not telling me about your date with Kayla?” You smirked, trying to keep it light, but deep down, you were fishing for any reassurance you could get.

His hand found its way to your thigh, his grip warm and reassuring as his thumb brushed soothing circles. “No, of course not,” he said, his tone calm yet firm. “I told you everything, and, honestly, I don’t think she’ll pick me. We don’t have that spark—you and I do, though, yeah?” His eyes held yours, his expression open and genuine.

His gaze was steady, his smile reassuring, and despite the flicker of insecurity, you let out a slow breath, his words sinking in and soothing the lingering doubts in the back of your mind. “Okay,” you said finally, a genuine smile breaking through as he chuckled.

“You’re adorable, you know that?” he said, leaning in to press a series of soft kisses along your bare shoulder making you giggle, a genuine, unrestrained laugh that he seemed to crave as he pulled back, grinning. “What are you wearing tonight?” he asked, scanning the room with an approving gaze as his eyes landed on the green dress you’d laid out on the armchair nearby.

“That one.” You nodded toward the dress, and he hummed, his smile widening in approval. “Good choice. It’s gonna drive the others crazy.” “Glad you think so,” you replied, warmth creeping into your cheeks as you noticed the way he looked at you—like you were the only person who existed.

“Well, I’ll let you get ready,” he said, standing up and moving behind you. Through the mirror, you caught yourself staring. How could you not when Rafe looked so... edible. He met your gaze in the mirror, catching your look, and smirked. “Like what you see, Mrs. Cameron?” he teased, his voice dropping to a playful, almost dangerous tone that made you laugh.

“Very much,” you replied, tilting your head back as he leaned down, catching your lips in a kiss that was both soft and full of promise, a reminder of the bond that the two of you had since day one. But before things could get too heated, you gently placed a hand on his jaw, pushing him back with a giggle.

“Alright, alright, I’m going!” he said, chuckling as he stepped back. Before he could leave, the door opened, and you both turned to see Kayla enter, her eyes lighting up at the sight of Rafe. “Hey,” Rafe greeted her casually, his tone polite but distant. You watched them exchange brief smiles before looking away, busying yourself with your lip gloss as Kayla approached her drawers.

“Hey, Y/n,” she greeted you brightly, her tone friendly as she settled beside you. “Hey,” you replied with a polite smile. “Excited for tonight?” “Oh, definitely!” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I’m so ready to sleep next to someone again; it’s been way too long.” She giggled, and you chuckled in response, keeping the mood light even as you fought off a pang of unease.

“Do you know who you’re choosing?” you asked, carefully applying your lip gloss as she fiddled with something in her drawer. She nodded confidently, her fingers tapping lightly as she glanced at you with a knowing smile. “Uh-huh. I knew who I was gonna pick the second I walked in here.”

You nodded, hoping your expression didn’t betray the subtle tightening in your chest. It was in these little moments that the villa’s intensity hit, the constant swirl of emotions and unspoken fears. But as you caught a glimpse of your own reflection, you reminded yourself of the quiet confidence in Rafe’s words, of the unspoken bond you’d built.

~

The night air felt thick with tension as everyone gathered around the firepit, the familiar crackling flames casting flickering shadows across the group. You sat beside Rafe, his arm draped casually over your shoulders. The warmth of his touch had been a quiet comfort, his thumb tracing soothing patterns along your skin—a small reassurance that whatever happened tonight, he was there.

But as Kayla’s voice broke through the murmur of anticipation, her words twisted the air around you, each one slicing deeper than the last. "I'm coupling up with this person because, from the moment we started talking, I definitely sensed that we had potential and that there was a spark there that I want to explore," Kayla said, her tone confident and unwavering as her gaze locked on the group.

Your eyes dropped to the flames, heart pounding, silently willing her words to be about someone else. When she finally spoke his name, “The person I want to couple up with is… Rafe,” the world seemed to freeze. Your breath hitched, and a wave of shock washed over you, cold and biting, despite the warmth of the firepit. Around you, a few gasps broke the silence, the girls’ faces mirroring the same surprise that you felt.

Your eyes darted to Kayla, disbelief clouding your expression, and then turned to Rafe, who sat motionless beside you, his face an unreadable mask as he stared blankly at the ground. “Really? Nothing to worry about?” you said, your voice low but sharp, brushing his arm off your shoulder. Anger surged through you, raw and uncontainable. You’d trusted him, taken his reassurances at face value.

And now, every promise felt like it had shattered between you. Rafe’s shoulders slumped slightly as he raked a hand through his hair, a long sigh escaping his lips as he shook his head. “Rafe, you look surprised at Kayla's decision,” the host, Sophie commented , looking at him expectantly. He hesitated, his gaze finally flickering up to meet Kayla’s. “Yeah, uh—I don’t know what to say, really,” he mumbled, the frown deepening across his face.

“I thought I made it clear that I wasn’t really interested,” he shrugged, but his words felt hollow to you, hanging in the tense air between him and Kayla. Kayla’s eyes flashed with indignation, and she crossed her arms, a hint of challenge in her expression. “Wow, yeah—that’s not how I felt during our date,” she said with a pointed look, and you felt a pang of betrayal twist in your stomach as her words settled over you.

The whole night, the small reassurances Rafe had given you, the gestures, the closeness—it all felt tainted. Sophie's voice cuts through, pulling you from the storm of emotions swirling within you. “Well, Kayla, if you could switch places with Y/n… and Y/n, if you could come stand beside me.” Standing, you avoided looking at Rafe or Kayla, the weight of the moment pressing down on you.

You forced yourself to breathe as you stepped away from the firepit, feeling the collective gaze of the group on you. “Y/n, you are now single, which leaves you vulnerable here on Love Island,” Sophie announced. You nodded slowly, your jaw tight as you bit down on your bottom lip, desperately holding back the flood of emotions welling inside you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Rafe looking anywhere but at you, his gaze flickering across the ground as if trying to distance himself from the situation. The sense of betrayal weighed heavily on you, every unspoken word thickening the air between you. As soon as Sophie left, the girls immediately swarmed around you, their arms linking through yours as they ushered you away from the firepit and into the makeup room.

“Unbelievable,” you muttered to Sofia, who gave you a sympathetic squeeze. “Honestly, you deserve so much better than that,” she whispered, her hand rubbing comforting circles on your back.

~

Rafe’s voice was soft but strained as he appeared behind you, his presence looming uncertainly. “Can we please talk?” His tone was laced with a vulnerability you weren’t used to seeing in him. His gaze drifted to your face, catching the redness around your eyes, the remnants of tears. You sighed, dabbing away the traces of mascara that had smudged beneath your eyes.

“I don’t think there’s much to talk about, Rafe.” You shrugged, brushing him off as you tried to compose yourself. “Y/n, please,” he insisted, the desperation in his voice tugging at the edges of your anger. “I swear to god, I was making it crystal clear that I wasn’t interested. I told her, over and over, that I was in a happy situation with you.”

You felt the flicker of an ache under your ribs, a small crack in the wall you’d put up. “Then why, Rafe?” Your voice rose, bitterness spilling over. “Why did she pick you? She wouldn’t have done that out of the blue if she didn’t think there was something real, something genuine, between you two.” Your words struck him, and he took a small step back, almost flinching.

He opened his mouth as if to argue but stopped, as if suddenly unsure. “I don’t know why she chose me,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “But you have to believe me, Y/n. None of this meant anything to me—she doesn’t mean anything to me.” He looked at you, and for a split second, you caught something raw, almost pleading, in his expression.

But the anger and the hurt still clouded your heart. You shook your head, exhaustion coating your words. “I’m just… I’m really tired, Rafe. I just want to go to bed.” You didn’t meet his eyes, the weight of the evening pressing down on you. He paused, the silence stretching painfully between you both. “Right. Good night, then,” he murmured, his voice tinged with a sadness that lingered in the air as he turned and left.

By the time you walked into the bedroom, Sofia was already there, her arms opening for you without a word. You melted into her embrace, the comfort of her support soothing your frazzled nerves. “You’ll be okay,” she whispered, squeezing you tightly before you finally pulled away, giving her a small, grateful smile.

As you made your way to your bed, your gaze involuntarily flickered to Kayla’s. She lay there, already settled in, Rafe’s pillow on the other side, and it made your stomach churn. You slipped into bed, laying in the center, feeling an aching emptiness beside you. Rafe should have been there. His warmth, his steady breathing as you fell asleep, had been a constant.

Then, as if on cue Rafe walked into the room. His eyes skimmed over you for a second before he headed toward Kayla’s bed. The air was thick with unspoken words, unacknowledged feelings, and for a moment, you wanted to reach out, to say something, but you held back, the bitterness fresh in your chest. Rafe leaned over, whispering something to Kayla, though you couldn’t make out the words.

Then, without warning, he grabbed his pillow, stepping away from her bed and heading out of the room. You caught Sofia’s gaze across the dimly lit space, her knowing look meeting your own. She offered a small smile of understanding, and you returned it faintly before letting your eyes drift shut, hoping sleep would bring a break from all the emotions.

next

[jihyoruri]

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ SUPER RICH KIDS kim chaewon x reader

❀ ͘ ⴰ previous chapters | richgirl ⭢ that girl (she’s delicious) ⭢ idon’t smoke ⭢ pretty when you cry ⭢ homesick

↳ warnings richgirl!yn, angst (yn is back home), family dynamics, rich kid things, swearing, chaewon is still chaewon, arguing, weight mentions

finally.

you’d think after everything that someone has gone through in this house, stepping back through those doors would be the last thing she’d want. but she wasn’t going to lie.

yn felt at peace.

because in the moon mansion, she could be who she truly was and not feel bad about it.

a rich girl.

“lunch will be ready soon,” jia’s voice broke through the peaceful quiet as yn lay sprawled on her pink towel by the pool.

yn let out a contented sigh, lifting her sunglasses and pushing her hair back. “thanks, jia. what’s on the schedule for tomorrow?”

“you already attended the press conference with your father, so that’s off your list. your brothers will be going to the one tomorrow, so all you’ve got left is golfing with your members.”

the happy, serene soundtrack in yn’s head came to a screeching halt as she shot up from her towel.

“what?!”

“your mother didn’t tell you? she thought it’d be a good idea for you to invite them, so she reached out while you were out with your father,” jia said, her expression full of concern. she didn’t understand. shouldn’t yn be excited?

“when does she ever tell me anything?” yn grumbled, flopping back down on her towel childishly “jia, during dinner, add a splash of vodka to my mango juice. maybe the alcohol will keep me from flipping the table.”

jia chuckled softly, fondness in her eyes for the girl she’d watched grow up. “when has that ever helped anything? i’ll check on lunch.”

yn groaned as jia walked away. this was supposed to be her escape. chaewon is going to have a field day with this.

it seems like nothing can ever go yn’s way.

dinner was quiet. but that was hardly unusual. as far back as yn could remember, dinner had never been family bonding time

bonding didn’t even exist in this family.

the unspoken rule was simple: eat in silence, speak only when necessary.

honestly, yn found the quiet pretty peaceful. just eating, no forced conversation.

but it seemed like her mother couldn’t stand seeing her at peace—ever.

maybe that was an exaggeration, but yn firmly believed it.

“you seem tense, yn,” jae said, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he took a slow sip from his drink. “something bothering you? got a problem with someone?”

yn gripped her fork tightly, slowly lifting her gaze from her plate. “i do, actually. and for once, it’s not with you, dickhead.”

“language,” their father muttered, eyes never leaving the documents he’d brought to the table.

“oh really, who’s ahead of me?” jae asked clearly liking the banter him and yn are having at the moment.

“I won’t disclose any details just as yet.”

daeun rolled his eyes at his siblings, then, deciding to break the silence since everyone seemed eager to chat, he asked, “so, mom, how was your day?”

their mother beamed at the question, her smile bright and warm. oh, how she adored her son. yn couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

“it was amazing, honey. i was just reading an article about your sister’s group.”

“oh, really?” jae responded with mild interest.

“yes! that yunjin member mentioned how she always makes sure the other girls eat and stay healthy. isn’t that wonderful? yn, you have such lovely members.”

as far as yn was concerned, yunjin had never once asked if she was eating properly. but that wasn’t what set her off, she had kazuha who always checked in on her.

it was the nerve her mother had to praise yunjin for something like that—the same person who was the root cause of yn’s so-called “problem.”

“is that why you invited them over tomorrow—without asking me?”

yn hadn’t planned on bringing it up, but her mother’s comment set her off.

her mother furrowed her eyebrows at yn’s tone. “yes, actually. they seem like lovely girls. i was going to suggest you invite those ai girls you’re so fond of, but your judgment isn’t always the best, so i made the decision for you.”

the screech of yn’s chair echoed through the dining room. “i’m not hungry anymore, because clearly no one in this family respects me. may i be excused?”

“sure,” her father said casually, taking a sip of his wine.

“oh, come on, yn! let’s not fall back into those habits,” jae teased.

”fuck you jae!”

“language.”

“you don’t like them, do you?”

yn lifted her head from her pillow, turning slowly to see daeun standing at her door.

“what?”

“the girls in your group. you don’t like them.”

she watched as he stepped forward and sat at the edge of her fluffy bed. “you wouldn’t have reacted that way if it were the girls from sm.”

yn hated how daeun could always read her. they barely talked nowadays, but he still knew his little sister like the back of his hand.

“it’s not that I don’t like them. they don’t like me. no matter how much I lower myself or how nice i act, it’s like they can’t get over the fact that i’m a moon.”

“you lowered yourself for them?”

yn’s eyes flicked up from her lap to see jae standing at the door, disappointment written across his face.

she nodded, feeling a wave of shame. they were raised to believe they were better than everyone else, and here she was, bending over backward for girls who didn’t even like her.

“well, that was your first mistake,” jae said, shaking his head as daeun nodded in agreement.

“you’re dimming who you are to make them feel comfortable, and they’re taking advantage of that,” daeun added, hitting the nail on the head. yn hated how right he was.

“i know you, yn. you’re a bitch—a real one,” jae said with a smirk, earning an eye roll from her. “just be who you are. that’s how you’ll show them. it seems like they can’t stand the fact that you were always going to be successful, idol or not, and they hate that.”

“woah.” yn blinked in disbelief, looking between her brothers. “for once, you two actually make sense.”

“see? a bitch.”

yn adjusted the dior sunglasses perched atop her head, then straightened her pink ralph lauren golf dress before turning to jia.

“why are they taking so long? it’s a gated community,” she complained, tapping her foot as she stood in front of her expansive front lawn.

“patience is key, miss moon. the van is pulling up,” jia replied calmly.

yn felt anxiety creep in but quickly reminded herself of her brother's words. this wasn’t the dorms; this was her turf, the place where yn excelled.

the first person to step out of the van was kazuha, who immediately sprinted toward her.

“zuha!”

“you look so cute! i love your dress,” kazuha gushed, her eyes scanning yn’s outfit she couldn’t help but smile at how relaxed yn looked, she was completely in her element.

“thanks! my dad got it. it’s vintage!” yn beamed.

“of course he did.” yn already knew who that could be.

as she looked past kazuha, she noticed the rest of the girls gazing at her house in awe, it was kinda awkward seeing them, especially after the last time, but yn was just gonna pretend like that day never happened.

yunjin nudged chaewon, nodding toward jia, who narrowed her eyes at chaewon, causing the latter's eyes to widen.

chaewon hadn’t realized someone else was there.

yn couldn’t help but smile at that. “this is jia, the help.”

the girls nodded politely, while kazuha waved, causing yn to furrow her brows. “bow?”

the girls’ eyes widened at the unexpected demand but quickly bowed their heads.

“we treat the help with great respect around here,” yn said sternly . “so take note of that for next time.”

kazuha smiled at yn while the others nodded, a mix of confusion and compliance on their faces.

“so, who’s ready to golf?” yn asked, flashing a sweet smile.

“you guys suck,” yn laughed, watching the girls struggle with their golf swings.

“well, not everyone has been doing this since birth,” chaewon shot back, rolling her eyes.

“you’re so right! it would take a lot to be like me, wouldn’t it?” yn teased, nudging chaewon’s side causing the girl to stumble “your form is horrendous.”

she strolled over to eunchae, adjusting the younger girl’s stance, then moved on to yunjin.

chaewon’s gaze drifted down yn’s body, taking in her outfit of course, she didn’t even know people actually wore dresses like that these days.

she was about to make a snarky comment when a loud shout interrupted her.

“ignore them it’s just the golf boys,” yn said as she corrected sakura’s form.

chaewon rolled her eyes when she heard the boys calling out yn’s name in a flirty tone.

“passed around?”

yn groaned at chaewon’s words. “I’ve only talked to them a handful of times. I barely know them.”

“i talk to the caddy girls a lot, though,” yn added, causing kazuha to laugh while chaewon scrunched her face in distaste.

“do you want my help with your form?” yn asked chaewon, raising an eyebrow.

“definitely not.”

“okay, then continue embarrassing yourself.”

chaewon opened her mouth to argue but was cut off by a woman’s voice.

“yn!”

the girls turned to see yn’s mother approaching, and yn groaned, rolling her eyes. “why is she here?” she mumbled to herself.

the girls recognized the woman—it was yn’s mother.

“hey, ladies! I hope you’re having fun and that yn is being a good host,” she said with a bright smile.

the girls greeted yn’s mom with polite smiles, and she continued, “I just wanted to drop off some cute gifts i got for you all. I completely forgot about them! I had to stop the driver we just left from going to lunch.”

“lunch?” yn asked, the emotion in her voice hard to pinpoint. “you guys went to lunch without me?”

“honey, it’s not a big deal. don’t be dramatic! we were just celebrating your brother’s achievements just an intimate get together that I planned.”

yn couldn’t remember them ever holding something for her achievements, and she had plenty. “right,” yn laughed sarcastically. “i’m always so dramatic, huh?”

the girls exchanged awkward glances; they had never seen yn like this before.

“don’t act like that. god, you’re just like your father,” her mother said, brushing off yn's feelings.

yn clenched her jaw. “is that all? you just came by to drop off gifts?”

“yes, and i wanted to check on you. stop being so moody! just like your dad. my boys are more like me,” her mom said with a smile, prompting awkward laughter from the girls.

“you see how she argues with me, such a daddy’s girl, she looks like a girl version of him as well doesn’t she?.” her mother laughs causing yn to look at chaewon who looks at back at her with a blank face.

“how about you go back to your boys? they’re probably waiting for ‘mommy’,” yn snapped, glaring at her mother.

she had never spoken to her mother this way before, but as she got older, her respect for the woman had diminished. she barely considered her mother a mom anymore.

“yes, i have to go. we’re going shopping to pick out suits for your father and brothers.”

yn felt as if she had been punched in the gut. family shopping—without her? everyone knows yn loves shopping.

“did you plan that too?” she shot back.

her mother ignored yn’s words, stepping back to scan her daughter. “this outfit is cute. it looks good on you. maybe lose a couple more pounds, and it’ll look even better.”

the girls’ eyes widened at her mother’s words, but yn remained unfazed on the outside.

inside, however, yn felt the sting. she tried to pretend she didn’t care about her mom’s opinion, but deep down, she knew she’d spend extra time on her diet after that.

“anyway, I have to go. it was nice seeing you girls! i hope you like the gifts,” her mother said before walking away.

the girls turned to yn, who stared at her mother’s retreating figure before turning back to them.

“I just love my perfect life, don’t ’ I chaewon? now let’s work on your imperfect form.”

[xoxovanillq]

WORLDS COLLIDE

i. meeting

Luke Castellan x f!reader

Warnings- Trust issues, Kissing, She/Her pronouns.

Word count- 1.5k

“Dude, have you seen the new girl yet?” Chris questions. Luke and him are sitting in their respective bunks in the Hermes cabin, taking the opportunity of an empty cabin to chat.

“No, not yet. Should I see her?” Luke responds, his tone inquisitive.

“Yeah, I mean, she’s like, exactly your type.” Chris replies, laying back in his bunk, turning his head to face Luke.

“Well, I’m sure I’ll see her soon.” He replies, laying back in his bunk with a sigh.

You trudged into the Hermes cabin, exhausted, and ready to go to bed. It had been a long day, being the new kid at your age felt weird, especially with kids running around with more knowledge of this stuff than you. Everyone was somewhat nice, which was relieving, but no one  really caught your eye, well, until that night.

You laid in your bunk, looking up a bit to see a tall boy, dark curls falling into his face as he quietly studied you.

“You new?” He asks, his voice deep and rich, causing your heart to pound a small bit faster. The boy was pretty, tall, a little bit unsure of himself, but it was kinda cute.

“Mhm, was it that obvious?” You reply, your exhaustion convened through your voice.

“No, no! Not at all! Listen, uh, I’m Luke.” He says with a small smile, moving closer and extending his hand for you to shake.

“Y/N, and it’s all good.” You say, taking his hand and shaking it. You find yourself lingering in the warmth of his hand, reluctant to let go. When you release his hand, you smile softly, enjoying the small connection the two of you had made.

“Well, I should let you rest, but it was really nice to meet you.” He says, smiling as you nod, he then turns away, walking back to his bunk bed.

Luke’s heart pounded as he laid in bed that night, still thrilled after the excitement of your meeting. Chris had been right, you were his dream girl, perfect, exactly who he had always wanted. He couldn’t wait to see you again, to hear your voice, to see your glowing smile. He felt like a giddy schoolboy with a crush, desperate for your attention.

He dreamed of you that night, of holding your hand, guiding you through life at camp. He hadn't ever fallen for someone like this, so fast, so desperate for attention.

When he woke up that morning, he was still desperately excited to see you, wanting nothing more to see your smile yet again.

“Hey, Y/N, right?” He pipes up, sliding up beside you at the archery grounds. He didn't know why he bothered to check on your name, it had been in his thoughts for hours, ever since you told him.

“Yeah, it’s really good to see you again.” You emphasize the really, realizing that you may be starting to form a crush on the boy you had met only days ago.

“Yeah, yeah, um, you- you too.” God, he needed to get it together. He smiled, his heart warming as you smiled back. He watched you for a few minutes, looking at your aim. “Hey,” he suddenly piped up, “can I help you with your position a bit?”

“Oh, that would be amazing.” He quickly stepped up behind you, hands on yours as he moved your body little by little. His breath was hot on your neck, the smell of toothpaste, his shampoo, sun lotion, and sweat filled your nostrils, his own version of summer in a scent. It made you want to burrow your face into his neck, take in his musk.

“Alright, just aim, and shoot.” His voice brings you out of your dreamy haze. You shake your head a little, then release the arrow. He watches it soar through the air, hitting the target with precision. “Good job.” He praises, his voice light. making your insides heat up with both embarrassment and excitement.

“Thank you, really, you don’t know how much better you’ve made this all for me already.” You say with a light chuckle, all he could think about was how much better you had already made his life, just by existing.

“Hey, um, I know this is really random, but the lake, um, there’s a- a dock on it, and I wanna know if you’d want to go watch the sunset on it? Like, with me?” His heart pounds in his chest as he speaks. He was so scared to be rejected, maybe it was lingering fear, that finally trusting something would backfire on him.

“I- I’d actually love to, um, would it just be us?” You ask timidly, fearing that your feelings would be revealed too much, scaring him off.

“Yeah, if that’s alright with you and all.” He replies, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Dude, you actually scored a date with her? She’s been here for like, 3 days, and all the guys are already on her.” Chris said after Luke had relayed the events of your encounter.

“Yeah, I think she’s into me too, I mean, she checked to see if we’d be alone, so that’s a score.” He says with a light chuckle before taking a bite of his dinner. He looked up to see you chatting excitedly with a few girls you had made friends with. It made him happy to see you happy, especially with your new friends.

“Just keep her close, all the other guys here would pounce on her in a heartbeat.” Chris adds, unknowing of how this seemed to spike Luke’s trust issues. He tried to push the thought away, but it was always there, lingering in the back of his head, even as he got ready to meet you.

There he sat, about 15 minutes before sunset, on the dock, fluffing his curls up while waiting for you. He hadn’t dressed up much, just wearing cargos and a black hoodie considering that it would get chilly as the sun went down. His jaw almost dropped when he saw you walk up. You wore a lace cami, pink with lace trim and a little bow, along with light wash, flared jeans.

“Holy shit, you are making feel really under-dressed. You look stunning.” He commented, eyes fixed on the way your eyes seemed to sparkle, even in the low light, as you took your seat beside him.

“I didn’t know what the dress code was for this, so I figured dressing nice would be the better option.” In all reality, you were hoping he’d give you his hoodie at some point in the night. “You look nice too, I mean, you always do.” You say softly, a blush forming across your face as you did.

“Thanks, thanks, uh, can I- is it okay- is it okay if I hold your hand?” He asks tentatively, the way he stumbles over his words makes your heart flutter a bit.

“Yeah, of course.” Your voice is low and quiet, you reach out to take a hold of his hand, shifting a bit closer to him, shoulder pressed to his. Your head leans a bit, and he nods, as if giving you approval to put it in his shoulder. The two of you sat there for a little while in silence, watching the colors of the sun set over the lake. Rich oranges and cotton candy pinks reflected on the lake’s surface. Luke could feel you shiver slightly, and it gave him an idea.

“Hey, if you’re cold, you can have my hoodie.” He offers, looking into your eyes. God, he loved your eyes, all the different colored specks, he could get lost in them forever.

“Oh, yeah, um, if it isn’t too much trouble.” You respond, almost shyly. He quickly takes his hoodie off, his shirt pulling up a bit, giving you a tantalizing glance at his abs. He hands it to you with a smile, and before you put it on, you reach over to fix his curls, now a bit messy.

Luke couldn’t believe this was happening, I mean, he was laying on the dock, watching the sunset with you, you were wearing his sweatshirt, and he was pretty sure you felt the same way about him. As the sun finally set, the stars coming out to light up the sky, he finally decided to make his move.

“Listen, I might be reading this wrong, but I really like you, and-” You cut him off, your lips finally pressing to his. Luke’s body melted, one hand going to your waist, the other to the back of your head to deepen the kiss. He wanted to be as close to you as possible, to melt into you, to burrow inside your heart and live there forever. He almost panicked when you pulled away, clutching your waist in a desperate attempt to keep you close. You just giggled, settling with your head in his lap.

“I think you’ve got your answer, Castellan.”

[6ix9inewiturmom]

She Ours- Christopher and Matthew Sturniolo

Summary: you’re at an LA party and both chris and matt find you attractive…

Warnings: SUMT, THREESOME(not the weird kind ya freaks), P in V, Unprotected (please don’t reproduce), Dom!Matt!Chris, Sub!Reader, Squirting, Oral (M and F Receiving), PARIS (iykyk)

A/N: THIS IS BASED OFF OF P POWER BY GUNNA FT DRAKE 😫😫 ENJOY

My friend Lina was one of the biggest party girls I knew, every weekend was some party she heard about through the grapevine, which typically because I don't get out much she insisted on dragging me out of my house.

“This party better be worth it” I snap walking down the staircase of my shared house with Lina. She let me borrow her outfit: A skintight black dress that barely covered my ass, her adorable red bottom heels, and my jewelry.

“Girl you have the possibility of getting LAID tonight, let's not complain,” she stops to gasp “Maybe if you get laid you'll stop being so bitchy” she jokes.

“Lina you realize you're like the female version of a player right?” I laugh as we walk out of the house together.

As she fastens her seatbelt and starts reversing the car out of the driveway, she responds with a gentle smile, "No, I'm not. I love everyone."

“That's the problem” I chuckle.

Driving on the highway we had our hype music blasting through the speakers of the car, Lina breaks the silence, “When is the last time you actually had a dick?”

I about choked on air when I heard her invasive question, we were best friends so TMI didn't exist in our relationship considering we've known each other since we were 2 years old in daycare, but I was more or less caught off guard. “um I’d have to say probably since I went off the rails and impulsively joined Tinder and had that horrible hookup with that guy. Um shit, what's his name? OH YES TYLER” I laughed reminiscing the times.

“BITCH” she jokingly yells stomping on the brakes at the red light sending my whole body jerking forward. “That was 2 years ago” she whispers

“Yeah but like that man was weird as fuck, so I just thought maybe a guy who wanted to fuck would just pop out of the blue somewhere I don't know, you're a lot better at this than I am” I shrug getting almost embarrassed.

“oh my god, bitch this isn't the 80s you need to catch a dick” We both laugh at her commentary “But let's not catch STDs” her voice trails off as i try to contain my laughter.

After a lengthy journey, we finally reached the venue. As we pull into the parking lot, we are greeted by the sound of vibrant and lively music reverberating through the air. As we stepped out of the car and made our way inside, we were immediately engulfed by the dim, flashing lights and vibrant colors illuminating the area, accompanied by the pulsating beats of loud music that reverberated through the space.

“BITCH I LOVE THIS SONG” Lina yells over the loud music and dragging me to the lit up squared boxes where the song Maneater by Nelly Furtato is playing.

My hips move around to the song, not a care in the world who sees me but alas I nervously look around and see two pairs of crystal blue eyes practically drooling over me. One with slightly longer hair than the other and the other with a tatted arm but they both look the same.

“Y/N” Lina yells over the loud music “YOUR LOOKING A LITTLE TOO HARD” she continues

“Those guys over there keep looking at me” I lower my tone a little trying not to make a scene “They’re kinda cute” I softly smile carefully taking my bottom lip between my teeth and watching them talk amongst each other.

“BOTH?” Lina's eyes widen

“I mean why not?” I shrug my shoulders laughing

“They look like brothers which I mean is kinda attractive” Lina Replies “Just not that weird threesome Shit I'm talking about that trip to Paris if you know what I mean” she smirks shimming her shoulders

“Oh shit” my eyes widen “fuck they're coming over here, WHAT DO I DO LINA”

“Just act normal and if shit gets weird to remember to text me ‘Lemon Jelly Belly’ and ill find a way to get you out of there” Lina smiles as she walks over to the bar to flirt with the bartender

My nerves were heightened to the max watching the boys walk towards me, one of them had this coxky aura about himself and the other seemed nervous but still confident.

“Hello beautiful” the longer-haired one walks towards me coming behind me.

The one with the tatted arm comes in front of me, his smile turns into a smirk as I find my bottom lip in my teeth again.

“I'm Matt, and this is Chris” Matt said smirking down at me.

“We just couldn't help ourselves when we saw the way your hips moved and danced to the music,” Chris says whispering in my ear smirking.

“Thanks for asking my name, I’m Y/N” I snap jokingly

“That's such a pretty name,” Matt says placing his hand on my face and caressing my cheek

My hips started moving to the song softly as Matts's hands made their way to my hips as Chris’ was planted on my ass.

“Can I?” Chris asks as he moved the hair on my neck and became closer to my neck.

“Mhm,” i mumble

“Use your words, sweetheart, Can he?” Matt smirks down at me.

“Y-Yes” i stutter.

“Good girl” Matt’s smirk remains on his face as Chris kisses my neck and immediately finds that sweet spot on my neck sending chills down my spine.

“Why don't we do this In a little less crowded area hm?” Chris suggests

“I don't mind” I softly giggle

“Chris, how are we doing this? We gonna flip a coin to see who gets her first or what?” I could tell Matt was a little antsy and irritated by his brother's greediness.

“She ours,” Chris tells his brother.

Matt’s smirk became more apparent as soon as Chris said those words. Chris grabs my hand as and he guides me up a set of stairs and Matts hands remains on my ass. My eyes meet Linas and to say the least I've never seen her more proud of me. Her eyes are wide and her smile is wider. She's holding up her thumbs nodding her head in approval.

the room was dark, but very warm and had lots of room, the bed had silk sheets, and a lot of posters. “Do you guys know whose room this is anyway?” I nervously chuckle out.

“Happens to be my room” Matt speaks with a laugh

Chris comes behind me moving my hair to kiss that sweet spot on my neck again this time leaving dark purple marks on my neck. Matts's gaze softens as his eyes darken with lust watching how my body reacts to Chris’ mouth against my neck. Matt comes closer to me looking at my eyes first then my lips and sending me a soft but seductive smile before he presses his lips against mine. A soft moan escaped my lips causing him to pull back and smirk.

“Fuck I wanna rip this dress off of you,” Chris says with a husk in his voice practically groaning.

Matt presses the pad of his thumb against my lip running it across my bottom lip. “I just wanna put this pretty mouth to good use” he smirks.

Before Matt could do anything Chris picked me up and threw me on the bed looking in Matt's direction with a smirk.

“Sorry ma I really couldn't help myself” he softly chuckles positioning himself between my legs and rubbing softly up and down “May I?” Chris questions while playing with the bottom of my dress

“Be my guest” I smile looking down at his blue eyes glaring down at my clothed pussy with a small wet patch from my neediness of getting dicked down.

Chris moves my dress up to my mid-thighs and slides my underwear to the side diving right in like it was his last meal on planet earth. Matt on the other hand was too impatient and hard to wait, he removed his belt and his pants and kneeled on the bed beside me stroking his throbbing hard cock beside my face and rubbing his tip along my bottom lip teasing my mouth, finally he grips my jaw signaling to open wider as he slides his cock in my mouth thrusting ever so slightly, watching me please him and get pleasured by his brother.

Chris’ tongue laps around my clit, as my moans r muffled by Matts's cock being shoved so far down my throat.

“Fuck” Matt groans “Prettiests of mouths do the sluttiests of things” he praises as he wipes the tears that started forming in my eyes from the overstimulation.

“You're clenching around my tongue ma, you close?” Chris sadistically chuckles around my pussy.

“Mhm,” I muffle out around Matts's cock desperately in need to release built-up tension.

“Why don't you be a good girl and cum for Chris yeah?” Matt coos as he's thrusting his hips in my throat while having my hair in a makeshift ponytail.

My legs tremble and shake around Chris’ head signaling to him how close I am. “That's it baby” Matt's voice becomes husked.

Chris groans around my clit as his tongue laps around it feeling my cervix spasm over the overstimulation and pleasure that he knows he's giving me. The pent-up knot in my abdomen snaps sending me in a wave of euphoria, my eyes roll back, and my legs shake. Matt trusts into my mouth a couple more times before finishing in my mouth, placing his hand on my throat to feel mg swallowing all of him.

“Such a good girl” matt coos at me with my lips still wrapped around his cock.

He gently pulls out and walks over to Chris who's smiling down at me wiping his mouth with his sleeve. The boys talk amongst each other talking about how they'll share me.

Matt walks over between my thighs biting his lip. “Sweetheart I don't have a condom,” he says almost nervously.

“I'm on the pill,” I smiled up at him as his eyes lit up at my response.

He brings his hand to my mouth “Spit” he demands and I obey.

He uses my spit to coat his dick as my eyes roam from Matt to Chris who moves to place himself behind me placing kisses on my neck.

Matt aligns himself at my entrance pushing slowly. “Oh fuck” I moan out as my back arches off of Chris and my hands grip his for support.

He pushes himself further, completely bottoming out letting a loud groan fall from his lips and his head throwing back “fuck baby, you feel so fucking good” he smiles devilishly as he watches my body react to His movements.

his thrusts become harder and rougher. “god damn” he groans out almost at a whimper. “fuck your pussy was fucking made for me” he looks down to watch himself thrust in and out of me as he notices a bulge in my stomach from him and he smirks and presses down.

“Fuck” I scream out.

Both Matt and Chris smirk and look up at each other “Someone likes that eh?” Chris whispers in my ear using his hand and pulling and twisting at my nipples.

Matt pressed harder on my stomach watching my face contort in pleasure. “Such a fucking whore” matt groans out.

“C-C-C-LOSE” I stammer out.

“I can feel you squeezing my dick so fucking good, let it out baby” he coos not switching up his pace or his movements one bit.

Chris’ hand snakes around my throat giving slight pressure to the sides making me see more than just stars. “Cum for Matt baby, come on you can do it ma” Chris praises in my ear.

A loud squeal escaped my lips as my orgasm hit me like a train and I squirted my juices all over Matt and his abdomen. “There she is” Matt lets a low chuckle out from him. “Hold on for a second sweetheart, you can take it”

His thrusts got sloppy as I became jello in Chris's arms, with one final thrust Matt painted my pink gummy walls white coating them with all of his cum.

“Fucking hell” matt breaths out.

“You did so good” Chris praises, “can you take one more ma?” he smirked up at matt.

My body was tired but alas I nodded with a tired smile. Matt moved to where Chris was but Chris had other ideas, he used my ankles to flip me up so my ass was in the air and my stomach lay flat on the mattress. Chris used his precum and spread it around his dick before aligning himself with my sensitive entrance and bottoming out quickly.

“Fuck chris” i moan out trying to move forward but Chris stopped me by placing his hands on my waist pinning me down to the mattress.

“Someone a little sensitive hm? Can't take me, can you?” he chuckled sadistically.

I bit my lip to muffle my own screams of pleasure. “I-I- I can take it-“I was cut off by Chris absolutely pounding into me like there was no tomorrow hitting spots I didn't know was even possible.

Skin slapping and moans were the only sounds bouncing off the walls. “I ain't gonna last long ma, you're clenching me so fucking good” he groans out forcing my head into the mattress.

“CLOSE” I scream out.

“Come on sweetheart, be the good girl you were for me and cum for Chris yeah?” Matt is positioning himself so he can brush some of the hair out of my face.

Matts's gentle words sent me over the edge and once again, I squirted all over Chris sending him into a state of euphoria and cumming on the spot inside of me filling me up with his seed.

I immediately collapse laying flat on the bed out of breath. Matt ran into his bathroom connected to his room and grabbed a warm cloth to clean up my legs as Chris whispered sweet nothings into my ear about how good I did for both of them.

“You doin’ okay love?” Matt says softly wiping my legs.

“Mhm,” I mumble out.

They chuckle as Matt throws a pair of sweatpants and an oversized shirt for me to put on. In my attempt to stand up, my legs gave out.

“Don't tell me you can't walk?” Chris chuckles

“Try to be in my position and see how you feel” I joke making them chuckle.

“Okay okay Chris enough taunting,” Matt says guiding the shirt over my head and helping me get changed.

Chris helped me get my pants on while talking to me about random stuff like 7/11 Bring Your Own Slurpee Day that he didn't know existed and Matt rolled his eyes.

“We just took her ability to walk and change herself i doubt she wants to hear about Slurpee day Chris” matt says carrying me bridal style to sit down on his bed.

Suddenly someone barges into the room obviously drunk. “Wait this isn't the bathroom” it was Lina who immediately saw me and started winking and throwing her thumbs up seeing me curled into bed and in someone elses clothes.

“Who the fuck are you? Get out!” Chris yells “Bathrooms downstairs” he gently closes the door.

“That was Lina…” I shyly say covering my face.

“Who?” they say in unison

“Lina my best friend since we were two, she's the reason I came” I laughed softly.

“yo…you think she heard anything,” Chris says bluntly scratching the back of his head.

“She's weird but not that weird. She's obviously drunk so she'll forget it by morning if she did anyway” I brush it off, and I pat the empty side of the bed for Chris to join Matt and me on the bed where I'm in the middle of both of them.

“You wanna watch anything? I'll let you pick?” Matt says handing me the remote and smiling.

“Wha- bro you never let me pick anything when I’M in your room” Chris whines.

“Shut up” matt laughs in response.

“Yall ever seen gossip girl?” I smirk at both of them

“Nope,” they both say popping the ‘P’

“YAY okay so we gonna watch it and if you have any questions feel free to ask” I smirk getting cozy and comfy in the silk sheets pressing play on the the TV.

“Why am I scared?” Chris says leaning over and whispering at me.

“Shut up and watch” I snap playfully.

HI LOVERS!! im so sorry for not posting this!! ive had writers block and i’ve been on vacation with my family visiting my home town and i haven’t really had time to write or do anything on this fic!! but i hope you guys enjoy it and i love you and thank you for your patience!!

XOXO,

Gabs 🩷

Sjendje

[0omillo0]

Oki so Im like searching fics all day long and u said i can request and im never getting enough of ur fics anyways so here luv 💕

Sooo Chan x reader

where maybe reader is already feeling horrible lately. And today smth appens at the studio and chan gets rlly frustrated so he comes home and today yn has been feeling even worse and feels like she can’t even get out of bed but like Chan comes home, not even seeing yns horrible stadium so he lets all the anger out on her wich rlly gives her the last push to like feeling just entirely depressed. Then she is standing crying and totally drained in front of one of the other members door, breaking down totally.

I’ll let the rest up to u, pls make it really really angsty but pls i just need a good lot of comfort at the end ❤️

BANGCHAN X READER

a/n: I’ve already made a vv similar story but I like this one so much better! let me know what you think ♡ also this is for my beloved @hannamoon143 tysm for your request and sorry for the wait!

genre: angst, comfort

The day had already been heavy, dragging you down like you were walking through thick mud. Lately, it seemed every breath took more effort than the last, and today, it had reached a peak. You couldn’t even get out of bed. The weight of everything pressed down on you, making the air feel like it was suffocating. It wasn’t like this was new—this lingering sadness had been with you for days, like a dark cloud refusing to lift.

You curled up deeper into your sheets, staring at the wall. You hadn’t moved in hours, hadn’t eaten, hadn’t done anything but exist in this space of nothingness. The world outside your room felt miles away, unreachable. The only sound you heard was the occasional muffled voices from outside your apartment.

And then there was a slam. You heard the front door being pushed open harder than usual, and you knew Chan was home. The sound of his keys hitting the counter was sharp, followed by a frustrated sigh that cut through the quiet air. You knew that sound—something must’ve gone wrong at the studio. His day hadn’t been any better than yours, apparently.

Your body wanted to get up, wanted to greet him, but you couldn’t. It was like you were glued to the mattress. Even when you heard his footsteps approaching, your body wouldn’t listen.

The door to the bedroom opened, and without looking at him, you knew he was tense. His energy radiated frustration, the kind that made rooms feel smaller, the air thicker.

“God, today was insane,” Chan muttered, not noticing how you barely shifted under the covers. His voice was rough, filled with a mix of exhaustion and irritation. “Everything went wrong. Absolutely everything.”

You bit your lip, the words you wanted to say caught in your throat. Maybe if you said something, anything, it could stop what you knew was coming.

But then he turned, finally looking at you, his eyes glossing over the state you were in. He couldn’t see it—he couldn’t see how you were breaking inside. All he saw was a person not responding, and it made him snap.

“Can you at least say something?!” His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut deep. His frustration had reached its peak, and you were the closest target. “I’ve been dealing with so much today, and you’re just lying there. Not a word, nothing. Are you a fucking emotionless doll??”

You flinched at his tone, at his words. Your chest tightening even more. The tears that had been sitting at the edge of your eyes began to spill over silently.

Chan didn’t notice right away. His anger kept him blind. He sighed. “I’m sorry if I sound harsh, but it’s been such a mess, and I can’t—” His words stumbled to a stop when he saw the way your body shook, the way you were crying silently beneath the covers.

“Y/N?” His voice softened, the frustration vanishing as quickly as it had come. “Hey, hey…” He moved closer, but it was too late. The weight of everything—his words, your own struggles—it all collapsed in on you like a tidal wave.

You sat up slowly, the sobs shaking your frame as you tried to wipe the tears away, but they kept coming. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible through the storm of emotions. “I’m sorry, I didn’t— I just… I can’t…”

Chan’s face fell as he realized what he’d done. “No, Y/N, I’m sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t see it. I was so wrapped up in my own head that I didn’t see how much you were hurting. I’ve made it worse I’m so sorry—“

But his apology couldn’t stop the breaking that was already happening inside you. You needed to escape, to find some sort of relief from the pressure that was crushing you from all sides.

Without saying a word, you slipped out of the bed, your legs unsteady, and you walked toward the door, each step feeling heavier than the last. Chan’s voice followed you, concern clear in his tone, but you couldn’t stop. Not now.

You found yourself in front of one of the other members’ doors. You didn’t even know how you got there, your vision blurred with tears. Maybe it was instinct, seeking comfort somewhere, anywhere, that wasn’t the suffocating silence of your room or the crushing weight of your mind.

You knocked, barely registering the sound of your own fist against the wood. And then, as if the last string holding you together snapped, your body gave in. You slid down to the floor, your arms wrapping around your knees as the sobs came harder now, uncontrollable, raw.

The door opened, and the blurry shape of someone—was it Felix?—stood there, eyes wide in shock. “Y/N…?” he asked gently, his voice like a balm, but you couldn’t respond. All you could do was cry.

“Hey, hey, what happened?” Felix crouched down beside you, his hand hovering for a moment before gently resting on your shoulder. His touch was warm, comforting in a way that made you feel safe enough to let it all out. “It’s okay, I’m here. You’re not alone.”

His words broke something else in you, but this time, it wasn’t painful. It was a release. The tears kept falling, but his presence kept you grounded, kept you from drowning completely.

Behind you, you heard Chan’s hurried footsteps. He stopped when he saw you on the floor, a mix of guilt and worry etched into his face. “Y/N…” His voice cracked. “I’m so sorry.”

Felix looked up at him, a silent exchange passing between them, and Chan knelt down beside you. “I didn’t mean to—” He stopped, choking on his own emotions, before continuing softly, “I should’ve seen that you were hurting. I was selfish.”

You looked up at him, your vision still blurred, but you could see the regret, the hurt in his eyes. And it wasn’t just because he’d had a rough day. It was because he hadn’t been there for you when you needed him most.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered again, your voice shaking.

Chan shook his head, reaching out to take your hands in his, his grip gentle, tentative. “No, no, you don’t have to apologize. I’m the one who wasn’t paying attention. I love you, and I should’ve been there for you. I’m so so sorry for calling you.. the way I called you. I’m sorry baby”

You shook your head. “Do you think I’m useless?? Am I just a doll to you??”

Chan realised how much his words hurt you. At this point he felt so guilty, his expression softened, his big glossy eyes looking directly at yours. “Y/Nie, my love, I didn’t mean to say those awful things to you. I understand if you’re not going to trust me anymore, but I swear I love you more than anything and I’ll do anything to make it up for you.. for us..”

Felix gave a small nod and stood up, retreating to give the two of you space. Chan pulled you closer, resting his forehead against yours, his breath shaky as he spoke, “We’re going to get through this. Together, okay? I’m not leaving you to deal with this alone.”

And for the first time that day, you felt a small sense of relief, a small flicker of hope. It wasn’t going to be easy—these feelings, this heaviness—but you weren’t alone. Chan was with you, and that made all the difference.

As you sat there, held in his arms, the storm inside you slowly began to calm, the cracks in your heart starting to mend, piece by piece.

“I’m here,” Chan whispered again, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “I’ll always be here.”

taglist

@hannamoon143 @intartaruginha

[crescenthistory]

you are my favourite silence

Pairing: Paul Atreides x Reader

Summary: Jessica's lecture and the eventual nightmare-catalysed-reunion, from Paul's tortured, yearning perspective. Based on "in the silence, there is an us".

Words: 3.6k

Warnings: not proofread, angst, hurt/comfort, references to nightmares, intense yearning, descriptions of anxiety and panic, feeling like the world is demanding too much of you, being super in love but not able to say it out loud, cuddling, lady jessica being a c*ckblock/heartbreaker

***

In the face of change, of being pushed into the final phase of growing up, Paul wanted to cling to you like a lifeline. To the gentle rhythm that once existed between him and you, the one he felt becoming more and more unbalanced as the world around dumped expectations on you both. He almost had not noticed it happening at first. You had grown up beside him, a constant presence, and yet now, each time he glanced your way, he was increasingly aware of what could be taken from him. He was only just beginning to grasp how much he cared for you, and the idea that you might feel like you did not belong here, or worse, being shown you do not, made something twist deep inside him.

Sitting beside you in the library, Paul could hear his mother’s words – sharp and pointed, even as he believed they were meant to guide. His whole body felt tense, not because of Jessica’s talk of duty, or the future he would soon shoulder, but because of you. Because he knew what her gaze did to you, how it picked at the part of you that never felt enough. When Jessica moved on to discuss personal relationships, the weight of her underlying meaning came pressing down, and Paul could barely keep his attention on her. His eyes flicked toward you, searching for any sign that her words were cutting too deep. Even when scolded himself, all he could think about is how it would affect you.

He hated this. Hated the way his mother’s eyes would linger on you, as though you were being measured and found wanting. It wasn’t true, but he knew you felt it. He could see it in the way you lowered your head, trying to hide from the sharpness of her tone. His jaw clenched. You were not some distraction, you were his best friend, and that should count for something. You were the reason he could breathe when it all felt either too small or too big.

When the speech was finally over and Jessica left them alone, Paul let out a breath, half-realising he did not listen to a word she said towards the end. The silence between the two of you felt heavy, thicker than it should have been. You should have been able to laugh it off together, snicker at his mother’s dramatics, but he knew you would not do that anymore. He risked a glance at you. His heart sinking at the way you avoided looking back. 

“She didn’t mean it like that,” he said, voice low, unsure how else to cut through the tension. When you didn’t respond, he moved closer, needing to bridge the growing distance. “She’s just worried. That’s all. My mother –”

“Your mother is always worried,” you cut in sharply, and Paul flinched. The tone in your voice was one you rarely ever used on him, only in your worst moments. He knew what it meant. You were pulling away, not just from the conversation, but from him. He could feel it. He wanted to stop it, wanted to reach out and pull you back to where you belonged, beside him. “Maybe she has a point. I’ve been distracting you. I shouldn’t... I shouldn’t keep coming to you.”

No.

Paul’s chest tightened as you began to move, began to slip from his grasp. Before he could even think, his hands moved on their own, gently but firmly gripping yours, desperate to ground you. “No,” he said aloud, his voice more forceful than he intended. “You haven’t been distracting me. You’ve... you’ve been keeping me sane. It’s not the same thing.”

He didn’t have the words. Not really. Not for what he was trying to say. All he needed was for you to understand, to know how important you were to him, but no words were worthy in the moment. His mother could never see it the way he did, she was too caught up in her visions for his future to realise when the only future he cared about was right in front of his nose. She didn’t understand how all the qualities that could make him a good duke were the ones you brought out of him.

He could see your brows twitch in the way they do when you are holding back tears. “But your mother thinks –”

“I don’t care what my mother thinks.”

The words tumbled out before he could stop them, and for a brief moment, Paul felt a surge of panic. He blinked, startled by his own admission that he had not realised rang so true for him, but he didn’t let go of your hands. His grip tightened slightly, and he looked at you, willing you to understand all he could not say. “I don’t care what she thinks about the time we spend together,” he continued, trying to keep his voice level. “She doesn’t understand. She doesn’t know what it’s like to feel like you’re drowning, like the world’s pressing in from every side, and you’re just. Alone.”

She doesn’t know you’re the lifeboat. 

“Whenever I’m with you, it’s the only time I don’t feel that way,” he confessed, his voice raw. He was laying it all out, unsure if he was saying the right things or making things worse, but he couldn’t stop himself. It felt like he was pleading a case. “You’re not a distraction. You’re the only thing that keeps me steady.”

He saw the way your eyes briefly squeezed shut, the blush still remaining in your cheeks, the slightly quivering curve of your mouth, all that internal struggle on your beautiful face. It tore him apart. You wanted to argue, he could see that, but something held you back. Paul wasn’t sure if that was better or worse. He felt you giving up instead of giving in, as you softly said, “We just need to be more careful.”

Careful. That word grated against his every instinct. Paul didn’t want careful. He wanted you, the way you had always been – close, inseparable. 

But then you said, “We can’t keep hiding away in each other’s rooms. We can’t... we can’t keep acting like kids.”

Paul’s heart sank, his body sagging slightly as he was giving up, too. Not on you, on himself, on his situation. He rubbed at his face, trying to shake the helplessness threatening to take over. You were right, but it felt painfully wrong.

“But we’re not acting like kids,” he muttered, trying to keep you from slipping too far away. 

“Aren’t we?” you whispered, your voice filled with something that sounded like heartbreak. “We’re literally sneaking into each other’s beds in the middle of the night, Paul. We’re still pretending like nothing’s changed.”

Paul didn’t have a response. Not immediately, too caught up with the ache in his chest as his disturbance turned existential. Why must sharing a close connection with someone, being tethered by someone, be a thing of only childhood? He felt he needed it more and more the older he got. Yet, he knew better than anyone all he had to do and all he had to be, and that it was time to step up to the challenge. But that didn’t mean he wanted to lose this, lose you, at least this part of you it felt he had always possessed. The idea that things had to change, that you couldn’t be the way you had always been – it was unbearable.

“Nothing has changed though,” he finally said, aiming for conviction. “Not between us.”

Deep down, Paul knew you were right. Everything had changed, just not in the way you were currently discussing, and he didn’t know what to do with it. He was not ready to face it. 

When you stood up to leave, the panic flared again in his chest. He wanted to reach for you, to stop you, to pull you back down beside him. Show you why you had to stay. He did anything but, he could only watch as you walked away, leaving him behind with the oppressive atmosphere of the library. His finger tips lingered on your seat as he clung to your promise: I will see you tomorrow. Even that small promise felt like a lifeline made of plastic.

Paul stared at the spot where you left, the weight of the future settling heavily on his shoulders. 

The following weeks, Paul did everything in his power to bury the gnawing unease that twisted inside him. He cherry-picked from his continuing lectures from his mother, trying to keep only the positives and leave out all the doom everyone seemed to hand him these days. The tension that hung between you only worsened in the silence of the castle’s long nights. You had always shared a restlessness after dark, a sort of curse that made sleep seem impossible unless you were together. But after his mother’s warnings about appearances and responsibilities, Paul felt obligated to put distance between you, to keep his emotions in check. At least for as long as you claimed that was what you wanted, too.

God, he hated it.

At first, he tried to do everything right, tried to focus more on his studies, his duties, his pretenses. He could not afford to slip up, not when he was being watched so closely, not when he was meant to prove himself a future Duke. But the more he tried to be the person he was expected to be, the more he felt himself, Paul, not the future duke of House Atreides, unraveling. 

Every moment spent apart from you gnawed at him, like a thread slowly being pulled loose from the fabric of his mind. His concentration splintered; during meetings, his eyes trailed to the door, wondering if you would ever walk in, during training, his movements felt sluggish, his mind always wandering to whether you were okay, whether you missed him too.

The longer you kept your distance, the harder it became to focus on anything but you and the looming elephant that was your friendship.

He soaked up every interaction you had like a parched man trying to survive in the desert. Even something as simple as sitting beside you during meals or brushing past you in the hallways felt like a lifeline. He clung to those moments, storing them away like precious memories, replaying them in his mind when he found himself alone. He knew you still saw each other a relatively normal amount, the amount usual friends dedicate to each other – but it was far from enough.

During it all you kept up your facade too well for Paul’s state. It was like you practiced it all when you could not sleep at night, you were polite, composed, like nothing had changed between you. Paul knew you better, of course. He could see through it, see the cracks forming beneath the surface. The bags forming under your eyes, the strain on your smiles, the flickering of your gaze when met by any member of the Atreides family now. You were just as affected by this distance as he was, but you were better at hiding it from everyone but him. It only made him want to reach out more, to break through that wall, to remind you that you didn’t have to carry this alone.

Paul sat beside you at the long wooden table in the dining hall, trying to act as though nothing had changed. The usual hum of formalities and business between his tutors, his mother, and the few remaining nobles blurred into a background buzz. All of it felt irrelevant compared to the tension sitting between you and him. He tried to tell himself the change was not that large, out of all the seats in the room, you were still sat together. 

He sneaked a glance at you from the corner of his eye. You were sitting perfectly still, your posture as composed and graceful as you had been trained to be, eyes downcast as you picked at the meal in front of you. On the surface, you looked calm, indifferent even, but Paul could see it so easily. The way your fingers gripped your knife a little too tight, the way your shoulders tensed as if trying to make yourself smaller, invisible. It’s not the same.

Despite his appetite having long since vanished, Paul tried to take a bite of his food. Beside him, you sipped your water, eyes flicking up just once to meet his before darting away again. The briefest connection, but it hit him like a shockwave. He was desperate for more of you, the real you, not this version that was carefully packaged to meet the standards of the room.

A thought ran through his head and before he could compose himself, Paul’s foot nudged yours lightly under the table. A small, almost childlike gesture. His heart raced, wondering if you would acknowledge it, if you would look at him like you used to. When you glanced his way, a flicker of a smile tugged at the corner of your mouth, a sign that you were still there, but it withered away fast.

You straightened in your seat, breaking eye contact, your attention turning back to your plate. A clear signal that you couldn’t do this, not here. Not now.

Paul’s stomach twisted, and he gripped his fork tighter, his knuckles white against the silver. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. There had been no distance between you before. You used to laugh together, share inside jokes over dinners like this. You used to sneak glances that said everything without needing words. Now, there was just this unbearable restraint. The longer it stretched on, the more suffocating it became.

He wanted so desperately to just be your best friend again, like when you were younger, when things were simple. When sharing a bed was not plagued by conventions or the expectations of his mother. Back then, it had been about adventure and laughter. Now it was about survival for poor Paul, it was all he needed to secure him. He wanted you to know how much he cared, how much he needed you. 

He remained silent.

When night fell, it became unbearable. Alone in his room, Paul felt the weight of everything pressing down on him—the responsibilities, the expectations, the growing distance between the two of you. Sleep evaded him. Each night felt longer than the last, and the silence of the castle, once comforting, now felt suffocating. 

He thought of you constantly. 

He wondered if you were having nightmares, the way you always did when there were no storms to distract you. You never reacted well to the stillness of nights like this, and Paul knew it. He knew you too well. 

Should I go to her? 

The thought flickered in his mind more than once, the worry gnawing at him more than usual, but something held him back. His mother’s words still lingered in the air between you, but more importantly your words. You asked for space, even if the reasons felt as tragic to him as they did. He could not risk making things worse, could not risk losing you completely by overstepping. Nevertheless, the longer he lay there, staring up at the ceiling, the more unbearable the thought of doing nothing became.

The hours drifted on, whisking away into the night air streaming in through his cracked open window. He had zeroed in on the sound in hopes it could form a lullaby, but to no avail. In the silence of his room, he heard footsteps in the hallway.

Before he could finish thinking, he was up and out of bed, hand on the door. He was fully expecting to open the door and be met with a wall of nothingness, forced to face how truly delerious he was becoming, but the possibility of any other outcome made him throw the door open without hesitation. 

His pounding heart all but lit up as he saw you standing in the doorway, almost hidden in the darkness. Surprise was etched onto your features and your hand was half-raised, presumably to knock on the door. A relieved smile made it onto your lips, and Paul briefly wondered whether you were aware, or if it was instinct. He breathed your name as a silent thank you to whatever forces brought you back to his doorstep.

In the half-shadows, you looked haunted, and he immediately stepped to the side to make room for you to step back into his world. He had been waiting for you. Hoping, somehow, that you would come to him, that you still needed him the way he needed you. 

You slipped inside quietly, and Paul closed the door behind you, sealing the two of you away from everything – his mother, the expectations, the fear that had been building between you for weeks. His chest tightened as he watched you, taking in the way your shoulders tensed, the way your eyes flicked to his like you weren’t sure if you should be here.

Paul had never been more certain of anything. He needed you here. 

As if your muscle memory controlled your actions, you moved toward the bed, and Paul followed hot on your heels, not willing to let you get too far away from him. There were no words, but there didn’t need to be. You both knew what this was. 

As he watched you climb into his bed, Paul felt something settle in his chest, something that had been fraying ever since the distance had started growing between you. He slid in beside you, immediately wrapping his arm as tightly around your waist as viable and pulling you close.

The quiet of his room that had just felt so suffocating now felt like a refuge. You were his anchor, his constant. For the first time in what felt like forever, the world outside didn’t feel so heavy. 

He heard your breathing slow as you nestled against him, your head resting on his chest. Without any real thought behind the action, he buried his nose in your hair and breathed you in, feeling every part of his body that was touching yours. He could feel the tremors in your body start to fade, and with them, the knot of worry that had been coiling tighter and tighter inside him began to loosen.

“Are you okay?” Paul whispered, his voice soft, almost afraid of shattering the moment.

You nodded against him, but Paul could feel the weakness in the movement, could feel the words you did not say. In response he held you tighter, his thumb tracing slow, gentle circles on your arm, offering comfort in the only way he knew how.

“I’m glad you came,” he murmured, his voice so quiet it almost didn’t reach his own ears. He had not realized how much he needed to say it until the words were out. “I wanted to come to you, but—” He trailed off, guilt wracking his mind while trying to somehow silence yours. His hand began to trace up and down your bare arm, needing to feel the warmth of your skin to remind himself that you were real, that this moment was real.

“I know,” you whispered, your voice hoarse with emotion. “I wanted to come sooner.”

Paul didn’t say anything, but his heart ached at the truth in your words. You had wanted to come sooner, but something had kept you back. The same thing that had kept him pacing his room, wondering if he should break the unspoken rules and go to you. Although he had always known, being told that the distance was killing you too felt oddly good.

For a long time, neither of you spoke. The silence between you now felt different, like the quiet after a storm, when the air is charged but peaceful. Paul’s hand drifted up to gently stroke your hair, the motion instinctual, as his other hand held your waist. It was one of the most intimate embraces you had had, and it felt so right, to the point where he did not even question it. He wanted to offer you more than comfort, more than just a place to escape your nightmares. He wanted to give you the world, guaranteed safety. Not just a reprieve or a shelter, but a true home, a good life. But the words weren’t there yet. He didn’t know how to say the way he cared for you, that it was more than just… caring. That you were the only person who had ever made him feel like everything might be okay.

Instead, he whispered, “I’ll always be here. I swear it.” It was close enough for now.

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his in the dim candlelight, burning low. For a moment, Paul’s breath caught in his throat. He saw everything in that look – your fear, your doubt, your hope. Your care. He craved to kiss you, to close the distance that still felt like it hung between you. Instead, he pressed his lips to the top of your head, a tender, quiet gesture that said everything he couldn’t yet.

Neither of you spoke after that. You simply held each other, the world outside disappearing as you both drifted into a peaceful sleep. Paul finally felt safe.

[quokkacore]

FRIGHT NIGHT [jeno & johnny] (m)

summary: your boyfriend has been acting weird. his new neighbor won't stop staring at you. you’ve started having dreams involving fangs and hands that aren’t your boyfriend’s. these three statements are unrelated. probably.

pairings: nerd!jeno x cheerleader!reader, vampire!johnny x human!reader

genre: horror, romance, based off of the 2011 version of fright night with a few things added in!

warnings: sexual content (minors DNI!), general violence, gore, explosions, wet dreams, misogyny, jaemin may or may not be an incel (i'm sorry king), evil aged up johnny (looks about late 30s-40s, is actually like 400 something), vampires, biting, blood, car sex, fingering, dubcon (i <3 the vampire mind control trope), breeding kink, dacryphilia, cucking kind of not really???, infidelity KIND OF NOT REALLY, blood kink, scent kink if you squint?, fear kink, cunnilingus, reader is a cheerleader but no specific body type is mentioned - though she’s described as being physically strong, connecticut

word count: unsure yet! maybe 15k? this current sneak peak below the cut is 518 words!

“Look,” Johnny grunted, eyes much less warm than they had been a second ago, “I’m sure this is all just a misunderstanding. If I can just come in I’m sure we can work—”

“No.” Jeno’s voice was harsh, but from behind him you could tell he was moments away from shitting his pants. The hand holding yours was trembling. “No, you won’t come in.”

“Okay, I won’t come in.” Johnny threw his hands up in the air, before grinning. “Y/N?”

The tension was so thick you could practically feel it in the air as you started to step out from behind Jeno. Your boyfriend quickly followed, continuing to cover his body with yours. “You don’t get to talk to my girlfriend. You need to leave. Now.”

“Very controlling boyfriend, aren’t you? I was talking to her. Y/N. Sweet thing.”

That tone. That voice. Sweet thing. You turned rigid as your body threw itself into contradiction. So many sensations seemingly antithetical to each other bashed around in your skull, your body responding in turn. Every single hair on your body stood upright, but a warmth pooled in your stomach and upper chest. Your throat felt dry, but you swallowed down the lump in your throat anyway. You felt flushed, feverish. Tears burned in your eyes.

“Y-yes?”

Jeno turned to look at you, but froze when realizing your expression. You appeared to be in shock, catatonic, even; his stomach sank as one word came to his mind. A trance.

In your mind, every single of the strange dreams you’d had flashed through your mind. The man whose face you could never see, but whose voice was now unmistakeable. The hands all over your body with unnaturally long nails. The touches and scratches that should have frightened you, but you welcomed. Burning, metallic-tasting kisses starting on your lips before trailing down, down, down. Pain, pleasure, married together in a maiming claim to your body, starting in the side of your neck before spreading throughout. 

The same question the voice had asked you at the end of every single one of them, after he had taken you apart and promised you that you’d be together soon enough.

Would you let me in if I asked, sweet thing?

“Can I come in?”

A tear streaked down your cheek as you met Jeno’s eyes, shaking his head violently. You remembered the first two times you had denied him—tried your damnedest to conjure that version of yourself. Begged to god as Jeno’s chest heaved, watching your mouth move, no sound coming out. 

But she no longer existed. Instead, stood the girl who had replied the third and final time. 

“Yes.”

Johnny’s smile peeled back, dark eyes pooling into black. Two unnaturally sharp, ivory canines glittered in the light. He paused, before his hands grabbed the frame of the door.

A moment later, he crossed, without hesitation, across Jeno’s threshold. He scoffed as Jeno’s eyes widened in terror, and against your will, your body cried out for the older man. 

“You said I won’t,” The taller man pointed out, “You never said I can’t.”

PART I: BIND - OUT OCTOBER 17TH

PART II: BREED - OUT OCTOBER 30TH

a/n: blame colin farrell and my relationship becoming long distance for my comeback. pls comment and/or reblog to be tagged when the first part is updated!

[dany-is-my-queen]

A QUESTION OF LOYALTY XVIII

Rhaenyra Targaryen x reader, Alicent Hightower x reader

Word count: 3.9k

Summary: When dragons of green and dragons of black dance, you have to choose the color that suits you best. Note: Nearing the finale!!!!

King’s Landing slept, but the castle itself seemed to breathe, its walls whispering secrets to those who dared to listen. The tension in the air pressed heavily against your chest, and you felt a storm brewing—one you had unknowingly stepped into.

A voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Y/N,” came the cool, precise tone.

You turned to see her—Queen Alicent—standing at the end of the hallway. She looked every bit the ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, her emerald gown shimmering in the dim light, her crown glinting atop her auburn curls. Her expression was unreadable.

“Your Grace,” you greeted, bowing your head out of respect.

“Out for a midnight stroll?” Alicent asked, her voice calm, but there was an edge to her words.

“I could ask the same of you, Your Grace,” you replied carefully.

A small, humorless smile tugged at her lips. “You’ve become quite the fixture here in King’s Landing, haven’t you?” she said, stepping closer. Her voice lowered, carrying the weight of a confession wrapped in accusation. “How bold of you, to linger so freely between us.”

You stiffened but kept your voice steady. “I have no intention of causing discord, Your Grace.”

“No intention?” Alicent repeated, her words sharp as glass. “And yet here you are, speaking to me in one breath and whispering to Rhaenyra in the next.”

“I never meant to come between you and her,” you said quickly, your voice firm but laden with regret. “Whatever exists between Rhaenyra and me… it was never about you. And certainly never about dividing what was once a friendship.”

At that, Alicent’s composure faltered. For a moment, the queen’s mask slipped, and the raw pain beneath was exposed.

“Friendship?” she said bitterly. “You speak of something long dead, something she killed with her lies and her disregard for everything we once held dear. And now, you, of all people, defend it?”

“I don’t defend anything,” you said softly. “But I see the pieces of what you once were to each other, and I cannot fathom why it must be this way.”

Alicent’s lips tightened. She turned away from you, her voice lowering. “You don’t understand. You couldn’t possibly understand. Rhaenyra takes what she wants without a thought for the ruin she leaves behind. And you—you’re just another piece in her game.”

“That’s not fair,” you said, a spark of defiance creeping into your tone.

“Fair?” Alicent turned to you, her voice rising slightly. “Do you think life in this castle is fair? Do you think I chose this? Rhaenyra and I were once bound by sisterhood, by trust. And now? Now she mocks me, disregards her duties, and drags you into her chaos. And you let her.”

Her words struck a nerve, but before you could respond, Alicent straightened, her queenly composure snapping back into place. “If you truly wish to avoid discord, Y/N,” she said coldly, “then stay out of her bed. And stay out of mine.”

Her departure left you reeling, her words cutting deeper than you cared to admit.

When you arrived at Rhaenyra’s chambers, the air was thick with anticipation. You hesitated at the door, steeling yourself before stepping inside.

Rhaenyra was seated by the fire, her silver hair spilling over her shoulders in waves. She didn’t look up as you entered, but you could feel the tension radiating from her.

“Do you enjoy testing my patience, or does it come naturally to you?” she asked, her voice low and sharp.

“I’ve done nothing to provoke you, Princess,” you replied, closing the door behind you.

She turned to face you, her lilac eyes blazing with frustration. “You’ve been with her,” she accused. “The Queen. Do you think I don’t notice the way she watches you? The way she clings to the scraps of your attention, as if that will somehow fill the void in her?”

“She’s your stepmother,” you said firmly. “And once, she was your friend. This animosity between you two—it’s insane, Rhaenyra. I don’t understand why it must be this way.”

Rhaenyra laughed bitterly, rising to her feet. “You sound just like her,” she said, her tone mocking. “Do you honestly think that woman has ever cared about anything other than herself and her children? She would see me destroyed if it meant keeping her precious Aegon on the throne.” Alluding to the toddler.

“Is that what you truly believe?” you asked, stepping closer. “Because from where I stand, the two of you are doing everything in your power to destroy each other.”

Rhaenyra’s expression darkened. “Are you defending her now?” she asked, her voice laced with disbelief.

“I’m not defending anyone,” you said.

“You think so little of me,” she said quietly.

“I think the world of you,” you said, your voice softening. “But this path you’re on—it terrifies me, Rhaenyra. And now? Now, you’re letting hatred consume you. It’s not who you are.”

“Who I am?” Rhaenyra repeated, her voice trembling. “Do you even know who I am anymore, Y/N? Because I barely do.”

The vulnerability in her words cut through you, and you felt your resolve weakening. But you forced yourself to hold firm.

“I never wanted to come between you and Alicent,” you said quietly. “I never wanted to be the reason for this… madness. But if you keep letting this consume you, Rhaenyra, it will destroy you.”

For a long moment, she said nothing. Then, finally, she looked up at you, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“Do you love her?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

You hesitated, the weight of her question pressing down on you.

Rhaenyra’s lips parted as if to respond, but no words came. Instead, she turned away, her shoulders trembling.

“Go,” she said finally, her voice breaking. “Before I say something I can’t take back.”

You hesitated, your heart aching at the sight of her pain. But in the end, you did as she asked, the door closing behind you with a heavy finality.

They demand loyalty, but neither of them see what this is doing to you.

But these conversations with them never actually took place, did they?

———

You awoke with a start, gasping for air, your chest heaving as though you had just surfaced from the depths of the ocean.

Your mind reeled, struggling to make sense of what you had seen—the faces, the voices, the impossible places. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t have been real. And yet, the weight of it all pressed down on you like a specter haunting your every breath.

Who was that woman? And what did she mean, “You cannot save them both”?

Shaking, you sat up, clutching your knees to your chest. The Targaryens had often spoken of dreams—visions of dragons, of fire, of doom. Had you inherited some fragment of this gift, or curse, through your bloodline? Or was this simply your mind fraying under the strain of war, grief, and guilt?

Rhaenyra sat at the head of the table, her gaze cold as a dragon’s stare.

“You’ve cost us a dragon,” she said, her tone sharp. “Do you understand what that means, Y/N? What you’ve done?”

Her words struck like a blow. You forced yourself to remain calm, though guilt burned in your chest. “I acted in defense of us, Your Grace,” you said, your voice steady despite the storm brewing within you. “Aemond is dangerous. If I hadn’t—”

“You shouldn’t have acted at all!” she snapped, cutting you off. She stood abruptly, her fury spilling over. “Do you know what whispers are spreading now? That perhaps you still wear green beneath your black. That you’ve done this to weaken us!”

“That’s not true!” you protested, taking a step forward. “I’ve done nothing but serve you ever since you arrived. Make it up to you.”

“Have you?” Her voice was low now, but no less dangerous. “You’ve cost us more than a dragon, Y/N. You’ve cost us faith. Our allies question our strength. They wonder if we are too divided to win this war.”

Her words sank deep, but what hurt the most was the doubt in her eyes.

“You think I’ve betrayed you,” you said quietly.

“I don’t know what to think anymore, You’ve done this before, Y/N,” she said, her tone sharp and cutting. “Sworn yourself loyal to me, only to betray me when it suits you. “She admitted, her voice breaking slightly. “All I know is that your actions have jeopardized everything we’ve worked for.”

“I am loyal to you,” you insisted, though you could feel the ground slipping beneath your feet.

“And yet, I wonder,” she said, her gaze piercing. “You carry secrets, Y/N. I can feel them, even if I don’t know their shape. You keep part of yourself hidden. Do you still carry a banner for the Greens?”

“No!” you cried, the accusation cutting deep. “It wasn’t about them. It was about my mother. About Rhaenys.”

Rhaenyra’s fury faltered for a moment, her eyes narrowing in confusion.

“She taught me to act with honor,” you said, your voice breaking. “To protect those I love, no matter the cost. When I saw Aemond, I thought of everything he’s done—what he’ll do if left unchecked. I thought…”

Rhaenyra’s expression shifted, her anger mingling with something softer—pity, perhaps, or understanding. But it wasn’t enough to extinguish her bitterness.

“Rhaenys was a great woman,” she said coldly. “But she’s gone, Y/N. And you are here. You can’t hide behind her memory to justify your mistakes.”

“I’m not hiding,” you said, stepping closer. “I regret what I did, Rhaenyra. Truly. That’s not who I am—not who I want to be.”

Her gaze remained icy, her doubt a blade to your heart. “You’ve said that before. How can I believe you now?”

“Because I’m still here,” you said, desperation creeping into your voice. “I could have turned my back on you a hundred times. But I haven’t. I’ve stayed.“

Her shoulders slumped, the weight of the war and your betrayal pressing down on her. “Actions have consequences, Y/N. And yours have cost us dearly.”

One thing was clear: you had to find a way to earn back Rhaenyra’s trust, even if it meant sacrificing everything else.

What awaited you there was no respite—only more pain.

Alicent stood in her chamber, her hands trembling as she gripped a letter. She was dressed in simple green robes, a shadow of the queen she once was. The years and the war had worn her down, stripping away the pride and power she once carried.

She turned to you, her expression filled with anger and disbelief. “Do you think I wouldn’t hear about it?” she demanded. “The attack on Aemond—your attack on my son!”

You swallowed hard. “Alicent, I—”

“Don’t you dare try to explain it away!” she interrupted, her voice trembling with fury. “Are you mad? He is my son, Y/N! My boy! How could you… how could you do this?”

“I wasn’t thinking clearly,” you said, your voice thick with regret. “I acted out of anger, out of grief. I didn’t mean to—”

“To what?” she spat. “To harm him? To weaken him? To kill him!”

Her words struck like a whip, leaving you reeling.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“But you did,” she said, her voice breaking. Tears filled her eyes, though she tried to blink them away. “You’ve hurt me more than anyone else ever could.”

You took a hesitant step toward her. “Alicent, please… I love you.”

She shook her head, her tears spilling over. “And I love you,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “But love doesn’t undo the damage.”

You wanted to comfort her, to hold her and promise that things would get better, but you knew it was a lie.

“You’ve chosen your side,” she said finally, her voice cold now. “And I… I cannot follow you there.”

You stood in silence, watching as she turned away from you. There was nothing more to say, nothing more to do. The gulf between you had grown too wide to bridge, and all that remained was the ache of what could have been.

———

The war had taken a grim turn. News of the First Battle of Tumbleton reached King’s Landing like the toll of a funeral bell. Rhaenyra’s forces had not just been defeated—they had been betrayed. The Betrayer, Hugh Hammer, has switched sides mid-battle, leading to the sacking of Tumbleton. Refugees flooded into the capital with tales of fire and blood, of dragons turning on their own, and of the town reduced to ashes.

When the report reached the Black Council, Rhaenyra’s face turned ashen. She sat on the Iron Throne, her hand gripping the armrest so tightly her knuckles whitened. “The gates of King’s Landing will remain closed and barred,” she ordered coldly, her voice trembling with restrained rage. “No one enters without my command.”

———

The city was restless, the tension palpable as the gates remained shut and whispers of betrayal spread through the streets. You found yourself wandering the Keep late one evening, seeking solace, when you stumbled upon Helaena. She sat alone in a dimly lit corridor, her hands busy weaving a garland of pale flowers.

“Helaena,” you said softly, and her head snapped up, startled.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she murmured, though her tone lacked any real malice.

“I needed a moment away from the madness,” you admitted, sitting beside her. “And you?”

Her lips curved into a sad smile. “I’m always away from the madness. That’s my role, isn’t it? To sit and weave while the world burns around me.”

You hesitated before speaking again. “I never wanted this war, Helaena. And I never wanted you to be caught in it.”

She tilted her head, her gaze searching your face. “But you’ve made your sacrifices. And now… you live with them.”

For a moment, all you could do was nod.

“I wish there was a way to make it right,” you said.

“There isn’t,” she replied softly. “You can only choose to stop making it worse.”

———

The dungeon was dim, the air thick with the smell of damp stone. Corlys sat on the bench in his cell, his silver hair catching the faint torchlight. When he saw you approach, his lips pressed into a grim line.

“You’ve come to speak your piece, then?” Corlys asked, his voice edged with bitterness. “If you’re here to defend her actions, save your breath.”

“I’m not here to defend Rhaenyra,” you said softly, stepping closer to the bars. “I’m here because I owe you an apology—one long overdue. “I’ve made mistakes. I was blind to how far things had spiraled. And I regret it. But that’s not the only thing I regret. I regret letting my grief, my anger, and my confusion push you away after my mother’s death.”

Corlys froze, his expression softening slightly as your words sank in.

“When I learned the truth about my parentage, about my real father…” you continued, your voice wavering, “it was like my whole world had been torn apart. I didn’t know what to believe, who to trust. But you… you were always there for me. You were a father to me, even when I didn’t deserve it. And I was an idiot for not seeing that.”

For a moment, silence filled the space between you. Then Corlys let out a long sigh, the chains on his wrists rattling as he leaned forward. “If I failed you, it wasn’t because I didn’t care—it was because I didn’t know how to reach you when you were hurting so deeply.”

“You didn’t fail me,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “I failed you. I shut you out when I should have leaned on you. And now, after everything that’s happened—after Addam—I see how much I’ve let you down. I’m sorry, Corlys. Truly.”

Corlys sighed again, his shoulders heavy with the weight of his own regrets. “We’ve all let each other down, haven’t we? Addam, Rhaenyra, you, me… this war has stripped us of everything we once were.” He looked up at you, his eyes weary but still full of a quiet strength. “But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that regret alone changes nothing. If you want to make amends, you have to act—and you have to do it now, before there’s nothing left to salvage.”

“I’ll try,” you said, your voice thick with emotion. “I’ll try to reach her, to help her see reason before it’s too late. But I don’t know if she’ll listen.”

Corlys gave a small, sad smile. “She may not. Rhaenyra’s fear has blinded her, and the walls she’s built around herself are taller than ever. But you have to try. Because if you don’t, Y/N, who will?”

His words lingered in the still air as you nodded, the weight of his wisdom settling over you.

“I’ll do what I can,” you promised, turning to leave.

As you walked away, Corlys’s voice called after you, softer now but no less firm. “And Y/N… no matter what happens, remember this: you were always my daughter. Blood or no blood. And that will never change.”

Tears stung your eyes, but you didn’t turn back.

———

The atmosphere in the hall outside Rhaenyra’s chamber was tense as you arrived. The guards stationed at her door exchanged uneasy glances when they saw you approach. They were hesitant, as if unsure whether to let you pass.

“I need to speak with Her Grace,” you stated firmly, your voice carrying the weight of urgency.

One of the guards stepped forward. “The Queen has asked not to be disturbed.”

“She is certainly not with the council” you asked, your brow furrowing.

The guard hesitated. “No, my lady.”

Something in his tone gave him away. Your eyes narrowed, and without waiting for permission, you pushed past him toward the door.

“Wait—” the other guard started, moving to intercept, but you had already opened the door wide enough to see inside.

The sight before you made your blood run cold. Mysaria was lounging in Rhaenyra’s bed, her bare back to you, the sheets tangled loosely around her waist. Her white hair spilled over her shoulders like silk, and her knowing eyes flicked toward you with a smugness that twisted your stomach.

Rhaenyra sat at the edge of the bed, pulling on a robe hastily. Her face flushed—not with guilt, but with frustration.

“Lady Y/N,” she said sharply, her tone carrying an edge of warning. “You have no right to barge in here.”

Your heart sank, the weight of everything crashing down as you stared at her. “I needed to speak with you. Clearly, I’ve interrupted… something.”

Rhaenyra sighed, her gaze hardening. “This is none of your concern. You shouldn’t be here.”

“Sleeping with a whore? You snapped. Have you truly stooped this low, Rhaenyra?”

At that, Mysaria smirked, seemingly unfazed by the insult. She leaned back against the pillows, her posture almost taunting.

Rhaenyra’s eyes flashed with anger, her cheeks still flushed. “Careful with your words, Y/N. You’re hardly innocent. Or have you forgotten who you have bedded? Alicent Hightower, of all people.”

Her words hit you like a slap, but you refused to flinch. “Alicent is no prostitute,” you countered coldly. “She is nothing like this.” You gestured toward Mysaria, who raised a delicate brow but said nothing, content to watch the argument unfold.

Rhaenyra stood then, stepping closer to you, her voice low and venomous. “You don’t get to judge me. Not after everything. Not after you turned your back on me time and again. Do you think I care what you think of her—or of me? I don’t.”

The words stung, but it was the emptiness in her tone that broke something inside you. She wasn’t doing this because she loved Mysaria. It was a distraction—a way to drown her pain, her regret, her anger. And somehow, that made it hurt even more.

“Do you even hear yourself?” you asked, your voice trembling. “This… this isn’t you, Rhaenyra. This isn’t the woman I…” You stopped yourself, shaking your head. “You’re letting yourself rot, and you’re dragging the realm down with you.”

Rhaenyra’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t respond. For a moment, the two of you stood there, the tension between you suffocating.

Mysaria finally broke the silence, her voice smooth and mocking. “The Queen does not need your judgment, my lady. Perhaps it is time you left.”

You turned your glare on her, but you didn’t dignify her with a response. Instead, you looked back at Rhaenyra, your expression softening despite the anger coursing through you.

“I came here to warn you,” you said quietly, your voice laced with exhaustion. “But I see now that you won’t listen. You’ve surrounded yourself with people who feed your delusions instead of telling you the truth. And I can’t keep fighting for someone who refuses to fight for herself.”

Rhaenyra’s eyes flickered, a brief crack in her façade, but she didn’t say anything. She simply stood there, silent and unyielding.

Without another word, you turned and walked out. The echo of it lingered in the hall, just like the ache in your chest.

———

The night felt colder than usual as you walked through the dimly lit halls of the Red Keep, your mind spinning from the confrontation with Rhaenyra. The anger had ebbed. You needed solace, a quiet reminder that not everything in this world had to be so broken.

You found yourself outside Alicent’s chambers before you even realized where your feet had carried you. The guards stationed outside her door gave you a glance but said nothing, stepping aside as you quietly entered the room.

The chamber was peaceful, bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the windows. Alicent lay on her bed, her chest rising and falling steadily with each breath. She looked serene, her face untroubled by the weight of the day.

You hesitated at the edge of the bed, watching her for a moment. She was so different from Rhaenyra in this moment—so still, so calm. The storm that had been raging inside you began to quiet, replaced by a tender ache you couldn’t ignore.

Carefully, you sat on the edge of the bed, your fingers trembling as you reached out to brush a strand of hair away from her face. Her skin was warm beneath your fingertips, and your touch lingered, tracing the curve of her cheek with the gentlest care.

Alicent stirred slightly, a soft murmur escaping her lips as her head tilted toward your hand. Though her eyes remained closed, her features softened, as if she recognized your touch even in sleep.

Your heart swelled, and without thinking, you took her hand in yours, intertwining your fingers. The fit was familiar, comforting, as if the world outside these walls didn’t exist. You brought her hand to your lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles before resting it against your chest.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the stillness. “For everything.”

Alicent didn’t wake, but her fingers twitched slightly in yours, the smallest sign of acknowledgment.

You stayed there for a while, content to hold her hand and watch her sleep. For the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to feel at peace, even if only for this fleeting moment.

-----------

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[pinkthrone445]

-Let it burn to the ground- Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

Pairing:Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Gender:fluf, soft, love

Warnings:Mention about past trauma, fires, boring but useful explanation of CPR

Summary:Melissa lets the fire of love consume her when she meets the new chief of the fire station.

After the amazing night of sex, you both have to deal with the consequences.

Mel ate breakfast in silence, glancing from time to time at her cell phone to see if you responded to her good morning message, but no notification came, you didn't even had opened her message, what made the redhead sigh sad

-"Soooo..."-Her housemate couldn't stand the silence any longer and started talking-"Last night was that good or did you scream like a wild animal on purpose to boost the chief's ego and interrupt my beauty sleep?"- Jacob asked as he ate his cereal, staring at her

-"My body hurts in parts that I didn't even knew existed, so yeah, she was that good" - The redhead replied without much emotion in her voice

-"So why do you look so sad?" - He asked, confused, and Mel sighed again

-"Because she left without saying goodbye... And now she doesn't even read my messages..."- She murmured sadly. Mel wasn't a self-doubting person, she was usually very confident in who she was and how she looked. But she couldn't help but wonder what had made you leave just like that, maybe you hadn't liked her body, she usually turned off the lights, but last night she was so desperate that she completely forgot about it. Or maybe you didn't like that the night focused only on her pleasure and not on you too... Maybe you'd reconsidered that she'd been with one of your subordinates in that same bed and you didn't like it...

-"Maybe she had an emergency at work and had to run away, she's the chief after all, her day off only lasted until 12 o'clock yesterday, if she was called after that time for an emergency, she would have had to run to help..."-Her friend commented and Mel nodded thinking about that possibility, it was something that could have definitely happened, which calmed her down a bit.

But two more days passed without you giving any signs, your son continued to go to school, but in none of those days that had passed had you gone to take him to school or pick him up. She even saw that your son was picked up by one of your sisters who looked a lot like you and the redhead thought about going to talk to her to find out something about you, but she didn't want to look so desperate so she didn't do it.

On the other hand, Jacob was upset to see his housemate so sad, and he wasn't a person who sat idly by when he saw one of his friends in pain, so he decided to do what the redhead would never do, visit you at the station to see what was going on and get answers.

When he arrived at the station he was surprised to see all the firetrucks outside being washed and cleaned so thoroughly he could see his reflection in the red metallic paint

-"Excuse me, hi" - Jacob spoke up to get the attention of the firefighters who were cleaning-"Does anyone know where I can find the station chief?"-He asked with his best smile

-"She is in her office, but I wouldn't recommend you to see her, lately she has been more bitch than usual..."-One of the annoyed firefighters commented-"Be careful, maybe you'll go see her and she'll get you cleaning up too" - He joked making the others laugh and Jacob rolled his eyes going to the entrence desk asking to see you.

You were reading some reports with a very deep frown when Jacob entered your office

-"Excuse me chief..."-Jacob spoke in a soft tone, your angry face did caused him a little fear

-"I told them that nobody could interrupt..."- You began to speak annoyantly, but relaxed your gaze at the sight of the scrawny young man at your door-"Hello Jacob, what are you doing here?" - You consulted and he looked at you confused

-"You know my name? Wow..."-The young man was proud of that for some reason

-"Yes, you are the boyfriend of one of my younger firefighters, besides Melissa told me some really funny anecdotes about you... Can I help you with something? I'm a little bit busy" - You asked seriously looking at your paperwork again

-"He is not, we are not... Did he said something to you?... Nevermind, that's not why I'm here for, I'm here for Melissa..."-Jacob spoke, smiling a little as he saw your interest return to him at the slightest mention of the redhead, you put your papers aside and looked at it with complete attention

-"What happened to Melissa? It she ok?" - Your voice sounded really worried

-"She is not, she is sad because you didn't call her again and you run away in the middle of the night after interrupting my beauty sleep with those screams... Why haven't you call her again?" - He asked with a frown, approaching you more confidently

-"Because I can't..."-You whispered without looking at him

-"WHY!?" - He yelled at you slamming your desk, but his anger and confidence quickly disappeared when you stood up from your desk with a frown and crossing arms facing him, sudently he felt small and had to take a few steps back-"Why ma'am? If you care to tell me, please" - He asked again but softer this time

-"Because I can't do casual, no with her at least... Melissa wants casual sex, no a relationship right now, and I can't do it... Have you seen her? We had this amazing connection, amazing chats, amazing dancing, funny moments and amazing sex and she is amazing... Do you know how often that happens in a first date? Never... Even my first date with my husband was worse and I end up marring him... I can't do casual sex after that, I can't when I feel that kind of connection with her... And if I keep seeing her I won't be able to say no everytime she asks me to come, and that would only destroy me more because I will keep my hopes up even if I know it's a dead end... I got scared of getting hurt okey?"-You sighed a little, embarrassed to admit that out loud while almost a complete stranger listened to you. Jacob, on the other hand, didn't know what excuse for your behavior he was waiting for, but it certainly wasn't that.

-"I... Didn't knew, sorry... But at least you own her an explanation, you can't vanish like that, she is sad and it scares me when she is sad... Please talk to her" - His friend whispered and you sighed

-"I'll talk to her... Later, I need to work right now..."-You whispered going back to your desk and he nodded opening the door

-"Thank you..."-He answered

-"By the way cupid, make a move on your friend, he will say yes, he is always checking his phone at work for your messages, God knows how many times I gave him a warning for being with that phone talking to you at work..."-You whispered without looking at him, but you could feel the way he smiled at your comment when he closed the door.

Hours later, you went to pick up your son from school, arriving a little bit earlier, trying to see Mel and talk a little before your son finished his classes.

After introducing yourself at the entrance, you made your way to Melissa's classroom to find it empty, confused you walked down the hallway until you heard her familiar tone of voice

-"Fudge! How is possible that he keeps winning?!" - The redhead spoke annoyed, looking at her phone while sitting in the teacher's room. You approached carefully and knocked on the door gently to get her attention, when her gaze fell on your face she raised her eyebrows in surprise, but quickly her face changed to seriousness and she looked back at her phone

-"Hi Melissa..."-You whispered but she didn't even look at you, you sighed and moved a little closer carefully-"How are you?..."-You gave her a little smile

-"Fine"-It was all the answer she gave you

-"Look... I can see you are mad at me and you are in all your right... I'm sorry for not answering your texts this few days" - You whispered and she just shrugged her shoulders

-"I don't care..."-She replied curtly again and you walked closer to her

-"I am really sorry, I didn't wanted to hurt you... I just got scared of how fast everything went and didn't find the strength to answer..."-You whispered looking at her-"Do you think I could have another chance? I know you felt our connection too, maybe it's worth another try? I promise not to disappear again" - You muttered and she looked at you over the edge of her glasses

-"I can't, I'm busy, I have a date with someone tonight" - She replied seriously and you sighed, on one hand you were afraid of the anger in her eyes and on the other hand this was exactly what you feared, she didn't want something serious and the fact that she already had another date after 3 days of being with you confirmed it even more

-"Oh, Okey, sorry for bother you"-You whispered walking to the door-"And sorry for ignoring you..."-You left the room heading to the exit to wait for your kid. For some reason the redhead's response had hurt you more than you'd like to admit, though maybe the fact that you ignored her had pushed her to that, you thought maybe you'd get another chance. Maybe you'd have to get used to mediocre dates since no other could match the connection you'd had with her in the first one.

After being lost in thought, your son ran out of school towards you with his small backpack on his back, smiling a lot when he saw that you were the one who went to pick him up

-"Mommy!" - The little one hugged you tight and you hugged him too, needing those hugs more than he knew. When he stepped back a little and saw your face, he frowned-"Why are you crying mom?"-Your son took your face with his little hands and you sighed, you didn't even realize that a tear had escaped your eye

-"It's just that I missed you so much" - You whispered and hugged him again-"Do you want to go for ice cream?" - You asked and he smiled and nodded excitedly.

Another week passed and your station had returned to Abbot to take the CPR trainer test to the teachers who had not been present the past time and again to a few who didn't do it correctly, although you did not want to go, the other firefighters had training exercises and you were one of the few who was free, so you had to attend along with Jacob's "friend", Avi.

Gregory, Melissa, Ava,Janine, Jacob and another teachers had to take it again, so there was no scape of seeing the redhead.

When you arrived, you prepared the room with the practice dummies, placing some on the floor and others on tables. When everything was ready, the teachers came in. Melissa frowned as she walked in and saw you, but you just decided to keep greeting them as if nothing happened.

As the exercises began you leat Avi lead the way and you stood on a corner in silence with a very rigid posture, you could quickly saw why Melissa had failed her previous test, she had terrible posture and her compressions were very weak, Jacob was there because he wanted, Janine was doing it again because she hadn't taken the proper time to do it last time and Ava and Gregory had to do it because they hadn't been certified because they hadn't been present the time before.

-"I want to clarify a couple of things... Since the previous instructor didn't explain everything that was needed... Before we start compressions, you need to check that you don't have anything around that could cause further harm to you or the victim, like fire around or something that could fall on you. Second, you need to check first if the person is conscious, to start CPR, you need to have 3 missing things, no breathing, no movement and no response on someone, at that point you need to ask someone to call 911 while you start the compressions, if there is no one around, you call it first and then start the compression. The person has to be on a hard and flat surface, we are going to find the center of the chest, place one hand on top of the other and interlace the fingers, pressing mostly with our palm. We bend over the victim, our elbows locked and arms straight. They have to be at least 2 inches deep and at least 100 times per minute, it's more than one per second so they have to be fast and consistent"-As you explained each step, you only looked your eyes at the doll or the others avoiding the redhead, even though you knew her gaze was fixed on you-"Every 30 compressions, keep count, give 2 breaths to the victim... If you start to get tired, it is preferable to have someone else continue the compressions for you while you rest, because if you are tired your compressions will not be as deep as they were at the beginning nor will they be very effective... Here at school they have masks to give mouth-to-mouth breathing, they cover the nose and the mouth and they are only one way air pass, it is preferable that you use them as this way we avoid contaminating ourselves with viruses, budy fluids or contagious deseases. If we don't have a breathing shield to do it and we are not sure if we should touch the other person's mouth, remember that CPR without mouth to mouth interaction is also effective and can provide the effect that we need in a safer way. Now! Pay attention, it's different for children till the age of 15 depending how big they are. You still have to control the same thing as at the beginning, check if they breathe, move or have reactions. Check that the environment is safe and call the 911. But when we start compressions, you will do it with one hand only, no both because children chest are more fragile and we can broke a bone... After 30 compressions, you breath twice on their mouth using the face shield or breathing mask and then keep with the compressions until the ambulance arrives... Any questions?"-You finished your explanation and asked as everyone shook their heads-"Okey, then, if everyone payed attention, dived yourself into couples and start your compressions, if everything goes as we instructed, you will have your certificate at the end of the class"-You commented and watched as everyone worked.

Melissa was annoyed with the lack of attention you were paying to her, but it started to bother her more when her name started coming out of your mouth non stop

-"Melissa you didn't check your surroundings" "Melissa you need do deeper compressions" "Melissa arms straight" "Melissa, faster" "Melissa use the face shield" "Melissa, Melissa, Melissa" - she was tired of hearing you complain about her all the time, even tho in reality you were checking everyone's movements.

The redhead put the doll aside and stood in front of you with her arms crossed and her brow furrowed

-"Can we talk in the next room?"-She asked and you looked at her with a frown too

-"Avi, keep checking them, I'll be back in a minute" - You commented by following the redhead to another classroom

-"What was all of that?! You were being a bitch to me!" - The redhead whispered/screamed

-"I just was correcting what was needed to be corrected, it's my job, you need to do the things right to get your certificate" - You muttered authoritatively and she scoffed

-"Admit it you were only trying to make me embarrassed! You are only mad at me because I didn't accept another date after you vanish for three days!" - The redhead tapped your shoulder trying to push you but she didn't move you an inch, on the contrary, you got closer to her coming face to face

-"I'm not mad at you for that! I'm mad at myself because I run away because it scared me how casual everything is with you!" - You replied with a frown

-"I didn't wanted casual with you! I wanted a million more dates! You think I didn't felt that connection with you?!" - Melissa commented annoyed

-"Then why you went out dating again so soon?" - This time your tone of voice was calmer and softer, but little hurt

-"I didn't had a date, I just wanted you to feel hurt like I felt..."-she confessed and you sighed

-"I hate you" - You whispered laughing softly - "I hate that that worked" - You confessed and she smiled arrogantly

-"I hate you too" - She said and tried to give you a little peck, but you grabbed her waist and pulled her closer to you kissing her deeper, grabbing her jacket with force and making her moan a little bit when you pull apart biting softly her lip- Can we have another date tomorrow?" - She whispered over your lips

-"Chris has a football game and I promise to be there" - You whispered and she signed-"But you are invited if you want... He will be happy to have more people cheering him" - You commented and she smiled

-"I will love it..."-she answered and walked away toward the door

-"The kiss doesn't mean that you don't need to be better at the test, if you don't improve I won't give you the certificate" - You confessed and she rolled her eyes

-"I hate you!" - She replied and you laughed walking behind her.

[trueangel420]

Purging ㅤ♡

mentions of religion—pre existing relationship, kit walker x reader, !! you are his nurse and a nun so yay ㅤ♡ (updated cus i posted the wrong version LOLL)

You had been working at Briarcliff for years. It wasn't so much a choice as a necessity—you had nowhere else to go, and they happened to be hiring. Over time, you became familiar with Kit Walker. Close enough, in fact, to know he was a good man—a damn good man. Yet, Sister Jude seemed determined to break him. She made it her mission to turn his life into a living hell, relishing every opportunity to punish him. Perhaps she believed it would cleanse her of her own sins. But some people, Kit included, could see straight through her self-righteous facade.

It was another day of Kit saying his Hail Marys. Whatever he had done this time had pushed Sister Jude to the edge, and she had him confined to that room for what felt like an eternity. Days passed, and Kit seemed fine—on the surface. He moved through the lounge with a quiet grace, talking with Grace and the others, his steps steady and composed. But you couldn't help noticing something was missing. The light in his eyes wasn't the same, and his smiles felt more like shadows of what they used to be.

You found yourself frowning when you saw him with Grace, though you couldn't explain why. It wasn't jealousy, not exactly. Something about him seemed off, like he was carrying a weight no one else could see. Every time you walked by, his gaze would lock onto you, his eyes following you as if drawn by some unseen force. He tensed up whenever you caught him staring, quickly looking away, but the tension lingered. Kit didn't know how to explain it—what he felt, or why it was happening. But it consumed him. Around you, his chest felt tight, his breath shallow, and his cheeks flushed in a way he'd never experienced before. He hated how his thoughts betrayed him. When he cooked with Grace, he imagined it was you beside him instead. Every little thing reminded him of you, leaving him restless and overwhelmed.

Not even the crack of Sister Jude's cane against his bare skin during punishments could drag his mind away. Each strike was supposed to cleanse him, to focus him on repentance, but it only left him more haunted by the thought of you. 

You began to notice the way Kit avoided you. When you brought him food or greeted him, he'd shift away as if you carried some kind of sickness. It stung, and no matter how much you tried to rationalize it, you couldn't understand what you'd done wrong.

Eventually, the frustration became too much. Without giving it a second thought, you marched to his room, barely taking a moment to prepare yourself before pushing the door open.

He didn't look startled. In fact, he looked like he'd been expecting this, his eyes slightly glazed as he watched you shuffle inside. "Kit?" you began, your voice shaky with a mixture of anger and hurt. "You're avoiding me. You're avoiding me and treating me like I'm some sort of... stranger." Your voice cracked at the last word, and with it, all the emotions you'd been holding back spilled out. The betrayal, the confusion, the ache of watching someone you cared for pull away—it all rushed to the surface, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable.

"I want you," he repeated, softer this time, but no less resolute. The way he said it wasn't a question or a plea—it was a declaration, raw and unfiltered.

The weight of his words hung in the air, heavy and inescapable. You let out a small gasp, your body reacting before your mind could catch up, stepping back toward the door. Your lips parted as if to respond, but no sound came out.

"I want you," he repeated, softer this time, but no less resolute. The way he said it wasn't a question or a plea—it was a declaration, raw and unfiltered. “I confessed,” he said suddenly, his voice quieter but no less intense. You froze, your back nearly pressed against the door as his words settled in. There was something raw in his tone, something that made your chest tighten. “Confessed?” you managed to whisper, your voice trembling. His dark eyes stayed on yours, unblinking. “To the priest. To God.” He swallowed hard, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “About everything. About you.”

The room seemed to shrink around you, the air thick with the weight of his confession. You didn’t know whether to run or to stay, but his gaze held you captive, as if daring you to do either.

The door shut behind you with a soft click, leaving Kit inside as you leaned against the cold stone wall, your apron still wrinkled where he had tugged it. Your mind raced, trying to process what had just happened—the way he spoke, the eerie calm in his voice, the sudden vitality in his appearance. Something about it all felt... wrong.

Minutes passed before Sister Jude arrived, flanked by a priest. The heavy thud of their footsteps echoed down the hall, snapping you out of your thoughts. Jude's gaze immediately fell on you, sharp and suspicious.

"What are you still doing here?" she asked curtly, adjusting the rosary draped around her wrist.

"I was just—" you started, but her glare silenced you.

"The priest and I will handle this now," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. She glanced at the closed door, her expression unreadable, before turning back to you. "Go about your duties."

You nodded stiffly and stepped aside, lingering just far enough away to watch. Jude unlocked the door and ushered the priest inside, closing it firmly behind her. For a moment, you stood frozen, straining to hear anything from within. The hallway was silent, save for the faintest murmur of voices. You couldn't shake the unease that coiled in your chest, a gnawing feeling that something was about to go terribly wrong.

You didn’t know what they were doing to him. Hours passed, and the anxiety gnawed at you as you chewed on your bottom lip, pacing back and forth. They had shooed you off to some other part of the asylum, but the pit in your stomach told you that whatever was happening to Kit wasn’t right.

Grace would glance at you occasionally, her wide eyes gleaming with that unsettling smile she always wore. It wasn’t comforting—it never was. It sent a shiver up your spine every time, like she knew something you didn’t. Something you might not want to know. Still, you couldn’t stop the thought that whatever was happening behind those locked doors was cruel and unjust, and the helplessness of it all made your chest tighten.

Suddenly, the lights began to flicker, casting eerie, uneven shadows across the walls. You froze, your breath catching in your throat as a faint scream echoed through the asylum. It was distant yet piercing, the kind of sound that clawed its way into your chest.

It sounded like… no.

Your heart pounded as you looked around, your body moving on instinct. You scrambled to your feet, urgency in every step as your legs carried you back toward the rooms. Your eyes darted down the dimly lit hallways, searching for any sign of him.

Then the lights went out entirely, plunging the building into total darkness. You stumbled, disoriented, the silence punctuated only by the faint, deafening scream that refused to stop. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once.

The air felt heavy, oppressive, as if the entire asylum was holding its breath. You reached out blindly, trying to feel your way toward his door, but it was as if the halls had shifted, confusing and endless.And then, just as suddenly as it began, everything went silent. Not a scream, not a flicker, not even the faint hum of the building’s electricity. The stillness was absolute, and it left you standing there, paralyzed with dread.

Twice a day, you went in—cleaning his wounds, bringing his food, checking on him. But today, something was different. His skin was unnaturally pale, glistening with sweat, and his fists clenched and unclenched as if trying to fight off some invisible torment. His eyes stayed shut tight, his jaw locked.

You wrinkled your nose as a foul odor hit you, sharp and sour, like something had died. The stench clung to the air, heavy and oppressive, despite your certainty that the room had been cleaned—you had cleaned it. "Kit?" you murmured softly, pressing a cold rag to his forehead. He sniffled faintly, turning his head away from your touch. The small movement felt like both a rejection and a plea for help, and your chest tightened with worry.

Concern gnawed at you until it became unbearable. Storming into Sister Jude's office, you demanded answers—or at least intervention. But she only glared at you, her expression cold and dismissive. "It's his sins," she said sharply, waving you off. "The Lord is purging him of his actions." Her words were cruel, an absolution of her own inaction. For two more agonizing days, Kit remained the same. His health worsened, and his fever lingered, making every labored breath sound like a struggle. You fed him, cleaned him, tended to him as best you could. If you didn't know better, you'd swear he was on his deathbed. You suspected the flu—or worse, a dangerous infection. Desperation pushed you to seek help from the bald doctor, the only one who could intervene. But he refused to see Kit, brushing you off with an infuriating air of detachment. "I have more important matters," he said, leaving you to care for Kit alone.

You paused outside his door, leaning against the wall to catch your breath. As usual, you carried a pack of cigarettes, stolen medicine from the doctor, food, and water. But something felt different this time—worse. The air coming from his room was icy and unnaturally still, heavy enough to make your skin crawl. You could swear you'd hear a pin drop inside.

Slowly, you pushed the door open, peeking in cautiously. He was awake, sitting up with a startling intensity in his eyes. His gaze locked onto yours, so sharp it made your heart skip. The room was freezing; you could see your breath clouding in front of you.

"Darlin'," he rasped, his voice low and soft, cutting through the eerie silence like a knife. He sat up on the floorboards, his movements smooth and untroubled. The sickly pallor of his skin was gone, replaced with a warm, healthy glow. His brown hair fell messily across his forehead, a single curl resting just above his brow. He looked... angelic. Serene. As if the past few days of suffering had never happened.

Tilting his head slightly, he ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it with an easy grace. His gaze softened, and he beckoned you closer.

"Come here," he said, his voice calm yet commanding.

He reached out, his hand gripping the front of your apron and tugging you closer. You stiffened, your breath hitching as his dark eyes locked on yours. "Mr. Walker, I—" you started, but before you could finish, his hand dipped into your pocket and pulled out the pack of cigarettes.

You'd never been this close to him before, and the proximity made your heart race. "You're nervous," he said softly, his voice almost teasing. "But you've been taking care of me for days. You cleaned me." It was as if he had read your thoughts, and the heat rose to your cheeks. He fiddled with the pack, pulling out a cigarette before reaching under his pillow to retrieve an old lighter. Placing the cigarette between his lips, he struck the lighter with ease. The flame briefly illuminated his features, sharp and intense, as his dark eyes roamed over you. The scrutiny made you feel bare, as though he could see straight through you.

"Purging me of my sins," he said suddenly, exhaling a puff of smoke.

The words jolted you, and for a moment, you stood there, confused. Then Sister Jude's earlier remark came flooding back. "How did you hear that?" you asked, your voice quiet but urgent.

He leaned his head back, the cigarette still perched between his lips as he smiled faintly. "I don't know," he murmured. "Everything's been a bit foggy." His tone was calm, almost detached, as though he was piecing together fragments of a dream. "Oh, Kit..." you murmured, biting the inside of your cheek as you watched him. His sudden change still felt surreal, but at least he looked like himself again. "At least you look better. Do you feel better?" He nodded slowly, his expression softening as he looked at you. His nose wrinkled slightly, as if trying to shake off a lingering thought. "Yeah... I feel better," he said, his voice low but steady. "Thank you, darlin'. You're the only one who came to see me. I didn't know what was going on."

The way he said it, his gratitude so raw and sincere, made your chest ache. He looked at you like you were his lifeline, and for a moment, you didn't know what to say.

"I didn't know you felt... things for me... like that," you said abruptly, your words tumbling out before you could stop them. Your eyes darted away from his, avoiding the intensity of his gaze. Was this immoral? Wrong? It should have been. But being this close to him felt unnervingly natural, like something inevitable.

His expression didn't waver, steady and unreadable. "You didn't?" he asked, his voice soft but edged with something you couldn't quite place.

The weight of his words hung between you, pulling your gaze back to him despite yourself. The way he looked at you—like you were the only thing that mattered—"You didnt tell me what happened either... with sister jude" you coughed out awkwardly

"You didn't tell me what happened either... with Sister Jude," you coughed out awkwardly, your voice breaking the tense silence.

Kit tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes never leaving yours. There was a flicker of something in his expression—pain, hesitation, maybe both—but he didn't answer right away.

"I didn't think you wanted to know," he finally said, his voice low, almost cautious. He leaned back slightly, running a hand through his messy hair, the movement slow and deliberate. "It's... better if you don't."

His words hung heavy in the air, and you couldn't tell if he was trying to protect you or himself. Either way, the avoidance only made you want to push further, though the weight in his tone made your stomach twist.

[theladyofbloodshed]

Chapter 1

Notes: This is set after the canon events of ACOSF when Nesta and Cassian go to the Prison. Instead of opening the wards to the cells, she ends up in Lunathion. Bryce doesn't exist in this universe and no magic language beans are required.

Nesta could not do more than twitch her fingertips as an invisible, oppressive weight bore into her, like it’d flatten her into dust upon the starry ground of the strange chamber in the Prison.

Let go, she silently bade the Harp, gritting her teeth, fingers brushing over the nearest string. Free me, you blasted thing.

A beautiful, haughty voice answered, full of music so lovely it broke her heart to hear it. I do not appreciate your tone.

With that the Harp pushed into her harder, and Nesta roared silently. Her nail scraped over the string again. Let me go!

Gone was Cassian’s voice. He was kept out by the wards, witnessing it all.

Shall I open a door for you, then?

Yes! Damn you, yes!

It has been a long while, sister, since I played. I shall need time to remember the right combinations…

Don’t play games. Nesta chilled at the word it had used. Sister. Like she and this thing were one and the same.

The small strings are for games—light movement and leaping—but the longer, the final ones … Such deep wonders and horrors we could strum into being. Such great and monstrous magic I wrought with my last minstrel. Shall I show you?

No. Just let me out.

As you wish. Pluck the first string, then.

Nesta didn’t hesitate as her fingertip curled over the first string, grasping and then releasing it. A musical laugh filled her mind, but the weight lifted. Vanished.

And then everything swirled around her like she was being sucked down a plughole into a vast emptiness. The stars on the floor span, turning white with their speed.

Nesta clung to the Harp as wind whipped her face. She was falling – but into what, she didn’t know. It reminded her of the Cauldon, that endless dark, the never-ending cold. Nesta drifted through space and time until she plummeted downwards.

Her body hit stone, taking the wind out of her.

Nesta blinked, trying to right herself. The lights around her were blurred but there was noise – chatter and distant music.

A bright light came towards her. A long, blaring sound pierced her ears. There was a screech and the light stopped feet from her body curled on the stone.

‘What the fuck,’ came a female voice.

Something slammed and footsteps sounded. ‘Are you alright? I nearly hit you. You landed in the middle of the road.’

‘Move back. Official 33rd business,’ a male voice said.  

Nesta was shaking. The bright lights were still in her eyes. Her hip and leg throbbed from the landing.

‘She’s armed, Hunt,’ somebody said.

The male who’d spoken gave a wearied sigh. ‘Ten minutes left of our shift and a fae has to leap in front of a car.’ He stepped closer to her. ‘Hands up. Don’t reach for the sword.’

Something silver and metallic was pointed at her by his hands. The male was fae. Or, looked it. He had wings similar to the Peregryn that she’d met in the Dawn Court with beautiful, grey feathers. Across his brow was a tattoo. Sable hair hung to his shoulders. The other male was slightly shorter with white feathers and fair hair.

Neither was dressed like anybody she’d seen before. Their clothes reminded her slightly of Illyrian leathers but the materials were different.

Nesta looked around, now that her eyes had adjusted to the light. Nobody was dressed in familiar clothing. People had small rectangles in their hands bearing lights and sounds. The fair haired male tutted and started moving them off, saying she was not a spectacle.

‘I’m going to need you to slide that sword over to me in its sheath. Do you understand?’

Where was she? This wasn’t Prythian.

Where are we?

The Harp refused to respond to her, going mute in this strange, new world.

‘Hey,’ the male with grey wings said, not unkindly. ‘Slide it over now.’

Slowly, Nesta reached for Ataraxia and pushed it across the smooth stone towards him. He kept his metal object pointed at her as he bent down and slung her sword over a shoulder.

‘Now your instrument.’

The other male had returned and collected that. He turned it from side to side, examining it. The first handed the sword to him. ‘Fly those to Vik. Get her to run her tests on them. I’ll bring her in.’

***

Ten minutes. That was all they had left after seven days straight. Hunt was looking forward to a glorious day off but Logan had said they should walk back to the 33rd rather than fly. If they flew, they still likely would have seen a female fall from the sky, but they could have pretended it didn’t happen and finished their shift on time. Now, it meant hours of questioning plus paperwork for what he guessed was an undocumented fae who’d rocked up in Lunathion.

The female in question seemed compliant thus far. Hunt hadn’t cuffed her. She was a skinny thing that couldn’t overpower him. From the spike of her ears, she was fae, not human. After basic questioning, they’d likely call in the captain of the aux from the fae side – and Hunt planned to be in his bed by then. Technically, this female had done nothing wrong except fall from the sky with a sword and nearly be hit by a car. It was strange enough though that Micah would demand their heads if they hadn’t brought her in. He was off in the north, summoned by the Asteri. Peace for once.

‘Where are you taking me?’

He kept his hand clasped around her upper arm as they walked. ‘To the 33rd.’

She frowned. ‘The 33rd what?’

Hunt glanced at her. ‘Legion.’

How had she never heard of the 33rd? Who the hell was this?

‘Are you fae?’

She must have hit her head hard. Hunt ushered her along, surveying her for obvious injuries as they went. ‘No. Malakim. Definitely not fae.’

Her silver eyes stared at him then at the ground, processing something. A med-witch would need to see her to remove her concussion.

Hunt led her to one of their interrogation rooms. The white walls looked yellow beneath the lights and she shielded her eyes from it. It was protocol to at least chain her to the table to prevent her from running, but from the bewildered expression on her face, Hunt couldn’t do it.

‘Do you want a coffee?’

‘Coffee?’

‘I’ll get you a coffee,’ he said, offering a tight smile as he backed out of the room.

He met Isaiah in the corridor.

‘Viktoria’s already working on the items. Both are definitely imbued with magic,’ he said by way of greeting. ‘Logan’s filled me in. Fell from the sky?’

‘Yup. Literally.’ Hunt pressed the coffee cup into his hand. ‘I don’t think she knows what coffee is so good luck.’

Isaiah gave a short laugh. ‘Do you think she’s one of the Avallen Fae?’

‘I have no fucking clue where she is from. Another planet by the looks of things.’  

Naomi was waiting behind the interrogation room, computer at the ready. Hunt waited behind the screen of glass too as Isaiah introduced himself and put the cup of coffee in front of her. From the thin frame, Hunt should have grabbed her a snack too. She wore leathers like she was about to do battle. The sword would explain that too – but not the instrument. It seemed to be a common theme that swords were toted by pricks in Lunathion, however this female seemed not too bad so far.

‘What’s your name?’

‘Nesta.’

‘A last name?’

‘Archeron.’

Naomi’s fingers flew over the keyboard. ‘Not a single Archeron in history. Or a Nesta.’

‘I don’t think she’s lying,’ Hunt murmured. It would be a strange name to make up. Better if she gave a common one.

Isaiah spoke gently. ‘What house are you aligned with, Nesta?’

Nesta blinked a few times then, ‘Uh. The House of Wind.’

There was another click of keys beside him then Naomi drew a blank again.

‘What can your magic do?’

‘I don’t have magic.’

‘Why do you have a magical Harp?’

‘I’m a bard.’

The delivery was so flat from Nesta that Hunt couldn’t help but snort with laughter.

Isaiah’s wings flexed at the table. ‘Will you play for me?’

Nesta inspected her nails. ‘I don’t play for free.’

‘What’s the sword for?’

‘When people don’t pay me,’ she quipped.

This female had woken up and found her dry sense of humour then. Hunt examined her through the glass. She didn’t look like the fae of Lunathion. The majority had the same colouring as the king – red hair, tanned skin. Others were brown-haired. The prince was a rarity with black hair, but not unheard of. It tended to be the Avallen fae who were blonde. She certainly fitted the description for now with a limited knowledge of technology; she’d stared at everybody’s cell-phones with utmost confusion. But even Avallen fae knew how to use technology when they left their misty isles.

‘Which king did you pledge allegiance to?’

At that, Nesta gave a harsh laugh. ‘None of them and I never will.’

‘Who is the king of Avallen?’

‘Fionn,’ she said, brandishing her hands in the air with disinterest.

‘Danaan is here,’ a voice said over the intercom. ‘Sending him down.’

Ruhn Danaan was captain of the fae auxiliary unit and exemplified what it meant to be a fae prick. One day, he’d also be their king. And Hunt could not stand him.

He swaggered in, tongue flicking against his lip-ring. ‘This better be good, Athalar.’

Hunt gestured to Nesta Archeron currently stonewalling Isaiah as he attempted to interrogate her on her origins.

‘Don’t know her,’ he said with a shrug. ‘Wish I did.’

‘Is she one of the Avallen fae?’

‘No idea,’ replied Ruhn in a blasé tone. Hunt could stink alcohol on him. Likely the prince had been with his little pals doing what they did best and partying until dawn.

Sensing his frustrations, Naomi stepped in. ‘She fell from the sky. There’s no record of her family name in the history of Midgard. Nesta isn’t aligned to any house, seemingly has no knowledge of Lunathion. She cannot name either fae king – but did mention Fionn. She came with a sword imbued with magic – and a Harp.’

Ruhn finally took notice. He leaned closer to the glass, nose almost touching it. ‘Her eyes are silver.’

‘A fascinating conclusion, Danaan.’

‘Let me talk to her.’  

It was Isaiah’s call so he allowed the prince into the interrogation room, claiming that not only was he fae royalty which gave Ruhn a pass to do what he liked in the city, but also a member of the aux. When he entered, Nesta knew him. Her eyes went wide then she stared down at her lap, murmuring something to herself.

‘Hi,’ said Ruhn who turned the chair around and leant his chest against the back. ‘Your coffee’s going cold.’

Nesta raised the cup to her mouth to take a sip then promptly spat it back out. ‘That’s vile.’

‘Need sugar?’

She folded her arms across her body. Anybody else would have called for their lawyer now or asked what they were being charged with. The thought hadn’t crossed her mind. Nesta seemed more interested in the security camera and even the lights above her head.

‘Are you high fae?’ she asked Ruhn.

‘I’m fae,’ he said. ‘Vanir. What other Vanir do you know?’

Nesta swallowed. Eventually, she suggested, ‘Illyrians?’

Ruhn gave an encouraging nod and lied that he knew them. Beside Hunt, Naomi was doing her best to search for the term.

‘Who else?’

‘Peregryns.’

‘Yeah. Peregryns.’ Ruhn gave another nod. ‘Those big birds that brought you to the 33rd. What are they?’

‘Malakim.’

Which she only knew because Hunt had told her.

‘What’s Sabine?’

‘I don’t know her,’ she replied.

Well, shit. She definitely was not from Lunathion because everybody knew Sabine, unfortunately. Naomi’s laptop made a pinging sound. ‘Toxicology report. Nothing in her system. Not even a drop of alcohol. Definitely no drugs.’

On arrival, the on-duty med-witch had given her a once over but had not found any major injuries beyond a few bruises from her heavy landing.

Isaiah drummed his fingers on his watch face. ‘We can’t hold her for anything. By rights, we’ve held her longer than necessary with nothing to charge her for.’

‘She’s clearly not from here.’

‘I know,’ he said. ‘But I’m reluctant to call Micah back until we have full specs on the items that she brought with her.’

‘We can keep those for a week,’ said Naomi.

Ruhn emerged from the room, shaking his head. He ran a hand through his long, black hair. ‘She’s fae. Definitely. No idea where she’s from though.’ Ruhn pulled out his cell.

‘Calling daddy?’

He threw Hunt a grin. ‘Not a chance. I’ll keep her at mine.’

‘No,’ said Hunt with a snort. ‘Do you think we’ll hand over a disorientated female to you and your little pals?’

‘Careful with what you’re insinuating, angel.’

Isaiah cleared his throat. ‘Until we know more, Nesta Archeron is a free citizen of Lunathion, not under anyone’s jurisdiction.’

‘She’s fae,’ Ruhn insisted. ‘She answers to my father.’

‘You didn’t hear her, Danaan,’ Hunt said, fighting the grin from his face. ‘She’s pledged allegiance to no king and never will.’

‘Hunt, discharge her. Ruhn, I wonder if you could take a look at the sword,’ asked Isaiah, guiding the prince out of the room.

Hunt cared little for the fae but he wasn’t going to send a lone female who had no clue where she was to the Ruhn Danaan home for parties and orgies. He took up Ruhn’s vacated seat, also sitting backwards on it at the table. Nesta watched him closely.

‘How do you know Ruhn?’

‘I don’t,’ she replied, voice clipped.

‘You looked like you did.’

Nesta furrowed her brow. ‘I thought he was somebody else.’

Hunt nodded his head towards the cup. ‘You didn’t like my coffee?’

‘It was foul.’

‘Oof. No offence taken.’ He began writing out her discharge forms, explaining them to her as he wrote. It would go under a section two; the 33rd reserved the right to question any citizen at any time without reason or without consequence. Anybody from Lunathion would have kicked up a fuss over how long they’d been held for. This one had no cell, no purse, no identification, literally nothing on her person so she likely didn’t know her rights. ‘You can collect your items in a week.’

That was if they found nothing they could charge her for.

‘A week? I need the Harp.’

‘Playing in a tavern?’

Hunt glanced up at her then jerked back. Her eyes were swirling. They looked as if silver flames were trapped within, writhing to get to the surface.  

‘You’re free to go, Nesta. I’ll see you out.’

The walk out of the Comitium was just as interesting. The most inane technology snagged her attention. At the coffee machine, she came to a halt to stare at it in wonder then in the waiting room, her eyes catalogued the television screens, jaw hanging open.

‘Don’t worry. You won’t miss Fangs and Bangs.’

Nesta opened her mouth to say something then the phone rang in the office. That also hooked her attention. She was child-like in her wonder as a malakh answered the phone.

‘That device allows you to communicate?’

Hunt touched two fingers to her forehead. The temperature seemed fine. ‘Try and see a med-witch. Have them check you over for concussion.’

He held the door open for her as she stumbled off into the blackness, just as perplexed as she’d been when they’d found her in the road.

Nesta wasn’t Hunt’s duty. His shift should have ended two hours ago. He was a slave, but a slave who could be off-duty – especially when Micah was out of town. Yet, he couldn’t stop the sense of dread from clawing in his chest as he watched Nesta amble aimlessly into the night.

This female would cause him a headache.

 ***

Seven days.

Nesta needed to survive seven days with only the clothes on her back in this strange city. There were worse places that she could have arrived to. The dungeon had not truly been a dungeon. It lacked the prowling beasts of the Hewn City. The only issue had been how bright the lights were. They hadn’t been the faelights that Rhysand conjured.

There were more lights hanging from towering metal poles on the smooth roads. There were still many out in the darkness but not all of them were fae. Some were like animals with cloven hooves instead of feet or caprine horns that jutted out from their hair.

Nesta didn’t know what to make of it.

She’d left Cassian calling her name in the Prison. Now she was in Lunathion. Wherever that was.

The city was so noisy.

Nesta needed space to think and to breathe so she fought her way out of the densest areas of the city towards a massive river. The sounds of it calmed her. She crossed over it, into the darker area where it felt more peaceful. Nesta sucked in breaths, thinking of Gwyn and her teachings to focus on the inhales and exhales and nothing else. That was easier said than done in a foreign land with no allies, no weapons, and no way back to Velaris.

Something was moving across the bridge towards her.

It made her skin prickle.

It wasn’t walking. It was gliding.

Her hand reached over her shoulder for the pommel of her sword and remembered it had been taken.

The creature made a low, gurling sound from the back of its throat then reached out a grey hand stripped of flesh in places.

Nesta backed up a step, but more were behind her, moving in that same eerie way without a sound.

The air went static.

A bolt of lightning hit the ground which forced one of the creatures to retreat.

The male who’d chaperoned her to the Comitium landed between her and the bulk of the creatures. Lightning wreathed his hands. His hair rose from the static.

‘You will not feast this night.’

Hunt jerked his chin at her, summoning Nesta to him. An arm clamped around her shoulders then he pushed off from the floor. As they lifted off, his other arm swooped beneath the back of her knees.

The motion was surprisingly fluid. Nesta did what she always did if Cassian flew her and put her arms around his neck for support.

‘What were they?’

‘Reapers,’ he replied. ‘I’m guessing you don’t have them where you come from.’

‘We have creatures just as foul.’

‘Yeah. Well, maybe don’t go for a midnight meeting with the Under-king if you want to see the dawn, Nesta.’ Hunt flew them a short distance then landed back amongst the lights on poles. He kept one hand clasped around her wrist like she might run while pulling one of the metal rectangles from his pocket. It displayed numbers that he tapped. His thumb moved down the screen, the words it showed flew by too quick for Nesta to read. ‘It’s Athalar. As you said, she’s one of your kind. She needs to be put up in a hotel.’ A pause. ‘Near the Dead Gate. I’ve flown her near Jesiba Roga’s house of horrors, but she’ll end up wandering through the meat market if I leave her.’ Hunt gave a mirthless laugh. ‘Either a hotel or the barracks with me, but not a chance I’m leaving her in your custody.’

Hunt slid the device into his back pocket. ‘The prince of pricks is booking you a hotel for the night. You hungry?’

The malakh lifted her into the air again to cross the city. They returned to the huge building where he had first taken her but did not stay long. Nesta was told to wait in the corridor outside a room while Hunt retrieved a bag of items. They stopped off at a restaurant along the way while he waited for news from the prince of pricks, whoever that was.

‘Noodles,’ he said, gesturing to the flimsy packaging.

Nesta stared down at them. They reminded her of yellow strings but there were chunks of meat and vegetables amongst them and a sweet-smelling sauce that made her ravenous. Hunt paid for it all, including the drink that was filled with bubbles.

‘Not a fan of coffee, but you like soda,’ he said between mouthfuls.

‘It is so sweet.’

‘Yeah because it’s all sugar.’

Nesta slurped it down, not caring if the ice hurt her teeth.

Hunt pulled the device – a cell phone – from his pocket. ‘Danaan came through. Let’s go.’

The lodgings were nice. One of those moving portrait boxes was hung on the wall and Hunt pressed a button on another rectangle to make it work. He pressed a few more buttons, the portraits changing rapidly.

‘Here we go. Fangs and Bangs, as promised.’

There was a half-naked female on the screen lounging on a long chair near a body of water. A male, equally as bare and bronze, was discussing their relationship beside her.

‘What do all of those buttons do?’

Hunt shrugged one shoulder. ‘Nobody knows. That’s volume. Channel up and down. On and off.’

‘It controls it?’

‘Yes. A remote. Where the hell did you come from Nesta?’

Nesta said nothing. She couldn’t bear to think of the people she had left behind. There was no guarantee that the Harp would be returned to her or it would even let her pluck a string to return to Velaris.

‘Bathroom’s through there. This is a key card. You press it to that black panel on the door handle to get in but try not to leave tonight, alright. I don’t want to retrieve your body from the Istros in the morning.’ Hunt blew out a breath. ‘Get some sleep. I’ll be by in the morning.’

Despite the day she had endured, the sight of the bed with tightly-pulled white sheets was calling to her. As soon as she hit that pillow, Nesta would be out.

Hunt rummaged in the bag that he’d collected from the Comitium. There were soft, grey pants and a white top. ‘For you to sleep in. There are slits on the back for my wings, but it will be comfier than those,’ he said, pointing to her leathers. ‘I don’t know how you breathe in that.’

‘Thank you, Hunt,’ replied Nesta, clutching the clothes to her body.

‘Tomorrow, we will talk. Off the record. About you.’ He swept his hair from his face. ‘I want to help but I can’t if you’re not honest with me. Sleep well.’   

[princessanonymous]

When Night Comes

Platonic Yandere Vampire

Previous Part | Next Part

First Chapter

Trigger Warning: A bit of gore and death

13. 𝓒𝓻𝓲𝓶𝓼𝓸𝓷 𝓟𝓾𝓷𝓲𝓼𝓱𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽

A soft knock echoed through the room, yet it was met with a disheartening silence. Undeterred, he entered, his presence a commanding force in the quiet space. "You cannot confine yourself in your room all night," the vampire declared with stern authority, a hint of frustration lingering in his tone. 

She responded only by rolling in her bed, seeking refuge under the covers. He tried to ignore how this reaction crushed a small part within him. 

"Tell me," he pressed on, "what did you expect to get out of this? Did you wish to die in the cold?"

His mind revisited the events of three nights ago. She had almost died. That was the cold harsh truth. It was sickening, horrifying even. It had terrified him in a way he hadn’t expected. Scenarios of what could have happened made dread gawk at his inside. The fact was that he had been lucky to find her, Dorian could have tried searching for her in the opposite direction. She would have been attacked and there would have been no one to protect her from that vermin. After bringing her back, he had remained by her side all day as she slept, the events of the night having left her completely drained of any energy. He had listened as she let out soft expirations, as her mortal heart beated and watched as her chest slowly rose and fell. 

So weak…

Her existence was so ephemeral.

That night, as these thoughts had crossed his mind, Dorian had inched closer to her neck. He could fix this. He could make her better and everlasting; eternal. His daughter – his sweet doll – could forever remain safe and unaltered by time. But he didn’t. He couldn’t turn her at this instant, no matter how much he wished to. It was forbidden to do so to a child her age. He had to wait.

Tonight, as he stepped into her room, he wanted to tell her that, had he not been there to save her, she might have met an untimely demise. That this was the reason why she hadn't been allowed to go out. Yet, the words remained trapped in his mouth, sealed between his lips.

Resigned to the persistent silence, he seated himself on the edge of the bed, his eyes fixed on her form cocooned beneath the covers. "It didn't hurt you. It is gone now," he spoke with a gentler cadence, seeking to comfort. 

Dorian liked when the child was calm and well behaved, but this depressing silence was not what he had wished for. Her response was an unyielding silence, prompting him to rise with a sense of resignation.

"What," she started with a scratchy voice, breaking the silence, "was that ?"

He halted, turning back to her with a glimmer of hope at the sound of her voice. "What do you mean, starshine?" he inquired, his tone inviting conversation and relieved that she was willing to engage.

"The monster," she whispered, a tremor of fear evident in her voice.

He sighed, grappling with the decision of whether to disclose the truth. Eventually, he settled back down, choosing to take advantage of her sudden willingness to speak. Refusing to answer would only make her retreat into her shell once again.

"To complete the process of turning a person into a vampire, that person must drink the blood of the vampire that bit them. A Sanguini, the thing you saw, is what results if that last step isn't taken. Slowly, these creatures turn into ravenous beasts, going mad with bloodlust. They aren't vampires, but rather something far more disgraceful and pathetic. The shame of our world."

Silence persisted as she absorbed this revelation. The vampire lifted the covers, unveiling her tear-streaked face. His fingers traced the contours of her cheek as he admitted, "I feared for your safety," his voice betraying a hint of vulnerability, emotions surfacing against his intentions.

She turned her back to him. "I want my mum," she mumbled.

His hands clenched involuntarily, resentment tinged with regret at how even in death, the woman retained significance for the girl. "I am here," he declared, the unspoken words ‘And she isn't’ hanging in the air.

Her response was silence. "You have me," he asserted more firmly, his fingers gently threading through her hair. "And you need me," he added, a subtle plea beneath his words. She needed him. Just as much as he needed her.

⊱ ────── {⋆☾⋆} ────── ⊰

The atmosphere hung heavy with a somber hush, disrupted occasionally by the clatter of utensils against porcelain as she quietly partook in her meal. Her eyes would intermittently dart toward the vampire sharing the table, yet they swiftly retreated back to the contents of her plate. It marked their first shared dinner since the harrowing incident a week ago. As she cautiously chewed her food, the unspoken tension in the air lingered. Did the vampire across from her anticipate a gesture of thanks? Did he expect acknowledgement for his actions, or was he simply indifferent to her feelings? Gratitude, however, was a complex sentiment to navigate when mixed with the knowledge that he was also the perpetrator of her parents' death.

Leaving during the cold winter night had been reckless, even perilous. The storm's cruel embrace had slowed her journey, and she found herself fortunate to have escaped the clutches of the biting cold. The storm had slowed her down and she was lucky she hadn't died from the cold… or that awful beast. She finished her meal in silence, rising without uttering a word. As she moved to leave, he halted her with an unexpected announcement.

"I have something for you."

With a subtle yet firm touch, the vampire guided her towards the door of the basement, a realm she had yet to explore. There was an air of mystery about the descent into the lower levels, an uncharted territory that piqued her curiosity. Descending the stairs, she couldn't help but notice a serene smile gracing the duke's face, adding an enigmatic layer to the unfolding scenario. 

The pathway, illuminated by the flickering light of torches lining the walls, exuded an eerie chill that seemed to cling to the air. As (Y/n) and the vampire continued their exploration, a distant door loomed at the far end of the corridor shrouded in shadows. However, they never reached it. The journey paused at a second door.

The first thing that came to her was the putrid smell. Next, was the figure slumped against the wall opposite to her. The duke widened the door, ushering light into the room.

She recoiled, a futile hand pressed against her mouth, but the horrified scream still erupted. Mary, the servant who had unwittingly aided her escape, lay there. (Y/n)'s eyes collided with vacant sockets. The girl slumped in the corner, bathed in blood. (Y/n)'s gaze trailed down her face, fixing on the throat. A crimson grin seemed to mock her. The slash across her throat emanated more life than her lifeless, gaping mouth.

One arm and one leg were bent at awkward angles as though she was a marionette that had been carelessly dropped. The remaining limbs lay a few meters away, severed from the rest. Entrails spilled unceremoniously on the floor.

(Y/n) crumpled to her knees, legs weakened. The world around her blurred as waves of anguish crashed over her, threatening to engulf every ounce of composure she possessed. In the midst of her torment, she unleashed a guttural scream of pain and despair that echoed through the emptiness around her. Tears streamed down her face as uncontrollable sobs wracked her body.

Two hands steadied her shoulders. "Take this as a warning," he declared, the words carrying a weight that extended beyond their immediate meaning. His grip on her shoulders tightened, the pressure a physical manifestation of the gravity of his words. "Actions have consequences, my dear."

The vampire leaned closer until his lips almost touched the girl's ear. His voice, low and intense, carried a chilling warning. "Don't you dare try to leave again," he hissed, the words spoken with a sense of finality. The proximity of his threat sent shivers down her spine. “I will find you. I will always find you. And everyone involved will have to pay for your foolishness," he affirmed, the weight of those words emphasizing an unwavering determination

He rose, leaving her sobbing in the wake of his departure, the door closing behind him.

(Y/n) clutched her chest, sobbing harder. This was her fault. She had brought this upon a poor girl who had done nothing wrong. And here she was now; forced to confront the consequences of her actions. She wept until no more tears flowed, until her voice became too hoarse to continue.

[livesworthlivingau]

Lives Worth Living Chapter 25

Isat/Two Hats spoilers below! CW: Light pining I guess? I'm sorry it's not heavier pining 😔

(You sit awkwardly in the common area with Nille and Vale, having asked for some privacy today to have a conversation alone with them. The other's all left to take care of some errands or personal activities they'd like to get done, Bonnie sticking around in the kitchen to prepare snacks for the next leg of our journey.)

"So... you already know about the loops and all, huh?" (You finally break the awkward silence with your mostly recovered voice, glancing over at Nille. She responds with a comforting yet bittersweet smile.)

"Yeah... Vale told me about their time in them, and in turn yours." (She explains, reaching out to place her hand on their fidgeting ones. Their tension seeming to fade away just a little.)

"So you know we've uhh... kinda already met then?"

"What?... What do the loops have to do with us meeting?"

"I may have forgotten to mention that part, Stardust." (Vale finally chimes in with a nervous chuckle.)

"Oh... Well... I'm kinda, still in the loops sorta?..."

"What's that mean exactly?" (She asks with a cautious tone, recognizing that it's a touchy subject. You let out a sigh, deciding to rip the bandage off.)

"... In 30 years, Odile dies of old age... I was there for it, and when it happened I... I got yanked all the way back here, the day after we beat the king..." (Her expression looks horrified for a moment, just staring in shock as she processes it all. You give her all the time she needs, looking away. You hate how that stare feels, but you can't blame anyone for doing it.)

(You perk up as you notice her moving out of the corner of your eye, before you know it her strong arms are tightly wrapped around you again. You slowly raise yours to place onto her back.)

"Sorry, I just... Wow... How are you holding up?" (She says as she releases the hug slowly, realizing she may have overstepped a bit.)

"N-No! It's fine!... Your hugs were always really nice." (You say with a little chuckle, it's so weird to tell a 'stranger' things like this.)

"It helps a lot having everyone for support... and having Vale back." (You admit giving a little smile before glancing over at them. They don't allow themself to meet your gaze...)

"Back? Wait, I'm lost now." (She asks, glancing between the both of us before Vale starts to explain.)

"After the loops, my job was done... I didn't need to exist anymore... So I simply ceased to be. I guess once the loops began again, I was plopped right back down... 30 years missed and it was merely a blink of an eye for me." (You all sit in an awkward silence yet again, unsure how to continue from there at first. Nille finally decides to break it.)

"Alright, well what's our next step then?"

"Uhh... Next step?"

"Well yeah, we gotta end your wish, right? So what next?"

"Oh... I hadn't really thought about that yet." (You blink, realizing this was so far from the top of your list you kinda just forgot all about it.)

"Maybe we could ask Jinn for help!" (She says, turning back to Vale, who immediately tenses up at the name.)

"Jinn?"

"Yeah! We met-"

"I think it may be best of we don't go spouting that information about freely!" (They interrupt, clearly unsure about the topic.)

"Oh come on, what's the harm in it? Besides don't you kinda wanna brag about it~?" (She asks with a grin and chuckle. They simply sigh and sit back in their seat, arms crossed, nodding begrudgingly for her to continue. She turns back to you, beaming excitedly.)

"We met the universe!"

"... Y-... You what?..."

"Yeah! It was just some traveler basically, but it knew things it couldn't possibly know otherwise! It was kinda spacey and weird, but what can you expect from a god really?" (You take a second to process all of this, chuckling a bit in disbelief finally.)

"I'm surprised Vale didn't try and take a swing at it."

"Oh trust me, the temptation was surely there... until it apologized for everything."

"It... It apologized?"

"Yes, we had a lovely chat actually. It's been just as affected by the island nonsense as any of us have been. That's why the wishes have gone so haywire."

"So it really was just... an accident?"

"More or less..."

"Heh... Well I guess that makes us even now!" (You joke playfully, the other two looking at you in confusion.)

"I met the Change God during the loops, remember?" (You ask, looking to Vale. They then let out an annoyed chuckle as it hits them.)

"Right, I think I tried my best to forget that little detail."

"Change, y'all have really had some wild lives, huh?" (Nille trails off, shaking her head some with her arms crossed. This was all really insane to say out loud now that you think about it. Everything's been so crazy that it almost feels normal at this point.)

(You continue chatting, filling each other in on what's happened. A few topics are avoided, mostly the future as to not mess with it too much, the topic of your nightmare feels oddly tense to Vale, and neither of you can dare bring up the topic of how you last looped...)

(Vale gives a yawn and leans back on the couch, rubbing at their good eye.)

"Didn't sleep well?" (You ask, though you're sure you know why.)

"No, not especially..." (They respond before Nille playfully nudges them.)

"Hey, you're doing great Vay. I'm glad you stuck around." (She remarks with a proud, bright smile. They look away but smile the tiniest bit in response. Before long they've wound up passing out, their head lazily drifting to rest on Nille's shoulder, which she allows happily.)

(You smile, happy to see them looking so relaxed for once... You can't help but pry a little, looking back to Nille and asking.)

"You really care about them, don't you?" (She perks up, realizing she'd been staring at them as well.)

"... Yeah, I really do. Poor thing's been through so much, and they're such a kind soul deep down. I just want them to see that too, y'know?" (She starts to explain, laying her head against theirs after a moment.)

"Heh... I commend your efforts so far, you've made a lot more progress than I ever could."

"Thanks. It helps I've had to beat myself up plenty about getting in my own head, learned the signs to spot I guess?" (She explains, giving a tired sigh herself.)

"It might be weird to hear but... Thank you. You helped me out a lot too... I don't think I'd be handling all this as well as I have been if not for all the times you've helped me..."

"As an expert on time loop shenanigans, I can confirm you're allowed to, yes~." (You both laugh at that, trying to keep it down as to not wake Vale.)

"Hah, man this time loop stuff is so crabbing wild. Am I allowed to accept thanks for something I haven't done yet?" (She asks with a chuckle.)

"Thanks again for taking care of Bon, I'm glad they were in such good hands."

"I can only take so much credit for all that, but I'm glad I could help with it~."

"SNACK TIIIIIIIME!" (Bonbon shouts from the kitchen, marching in with a big tray of various treats prepared, grinning proudly as they display it for you all.)

[qosbaez]

Need you || Rhea Ripley x Roman Reigns

Summary: Roman knows exactly how to get Rhea where he wants her.

Warnings: Smut, Roman is kinda mean but kinda not, he’s just mr condescending tone and Rhea loves every second of it

Rhea Ripley had always been strong, fierce, and unyielding. She carried herself with a sense of authority and confidence that few could match. But there was one person who could strip away that armor, who could make her feel small in the most delicious way possible, and that person was Roman Reigns.

Roman was a man who exuded power with every breath he took. He was older, wiser, and commanded respect with just a look. And Rhea, for all her bravado, found herself drawn to him in a way she had never expected. He made her feel vulnerable, but in a way that was intoxicating rather than terrifying. It was like he had the key to a part of her she didn’t even know existed.

Tonight, they were alone in his home, the world outside forgotten as the night deepened around them. Rhea was bent over the armrest of the couch, her body trembling with anticipation as Roman’s large hands gripped her hips firmly, holding her in place. The air was thick with tension, the kind that made her skin tingle and her pulse quicken.

Roman was inside her, filling her completely, his movements slow and deliberate. He wasn’t rushing, wasn’t giving her the frantic pace she craved. Instead, he was taking his time, savoring every inch of her, and it was driving her insane. Her breaths came out in short, needy gasps, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the cushion beneath her.

“Look at you,” Roman murmured in her ear, his voice low and dripping with that condescending tone that sent a shiver down her spine. “So eager, so desperate. You can’t even stay still, can you?”

Rhea whimpered in response, the knot in her lower belly tightening further. His words, the way he spoke to her, it did something to her that she couldn’t quite explain. It made her feel needy, like she couldn’t get enough of him, like she was completely at his mercy.

He chuckled softly, his breath hot against her ear. “You like it when I talk to you like this, don’t you?” He didn’t need an answer—he already knew. He could feel the way her body responded to him, the way her walls clenched around him every time he spoke in that tone.

Rhea nodded weakly, unable to find her voice. Her entire body was on fire, every nerve ending tingling with pleasure as he continued his slow, torturous pace. She tried to push back against him, to urge him to move faster, but he held her firmly in place, refusing to give her what she wanted.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Roman chided, his tone mocking. “Be a good girl and stay still. You know I’m in charge here.”

His words sent a fresh wave of arousal coursing through her, and she moaned softly, her body trembling with need. The knot in her belly was getting tighter, and she knew she was close, so close to the edge, but he wasn’t letting her fall over it just yet.

Roman leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her ear as he spoke. “You’re doing so well, Rhea. Taking me so perfectly. But you’re such a needy little thing, aren’t you? Always wanting more.”

The praise, mixed with that condescending tone, made her head spin. It felt so dirty, so wrong, but it was exactly what she needed. Roman knew her better than anyone, knew exactly how to push her buttons, how to make her fall apart.

“Tell me how much you want it,” he commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.

“I… I want it,” Rhea managed to gasp out, her voice trembling. “Please, Roman, I need it.”

“Need what?” he asked, his tone taunting as he increased his pace just slightly, enough to make her gasp but not enough to push her over the edge.

“I need you,” she cried out, desperation lacing her voice. “Please, Roman, I need you to…”

“To what?” he prompted, his voice dark and full of promise.

“To fuck me,” she finally choked out, her cheeks flushing with the admission.

Roman’s grip on her hips tightened, and he let out a low growl of approval. “Good girl.”

And then he gave her what she wanted, what she needed. His pace quickened, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper, each one hitting that perfect spot inside her. The condescending praise continued, each word pushing her closer and closer to the edge until she was teetering on the brink.

“Come for me, Rhea,” Roman whispered in her ear, his voice commanding. “Show me how much you love it when I make you feel this way.”

That was all it took. The knot in her belly finally unraveled, and Rhea cried out as she came undone, her body shaking with the intensity of it. Roman held her through it, his thrusts never faltering as he guided her through the waves of pleasure.

When she finally came down from her high, Roman slowed his pace, his hands gentler now as he stroked her back soothingly. He pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder, a stark contrast to the roughness from moments before.

“You did so well,” he murmured, his voice no longer condescending but warm and full of affection.

Rhea smiled weakly, feeling utterly spent but completely satisfied. She loved the way Roman made her feel, loved the way he could make her lose control, make her forget everything but the way he made her feel.

And as she lay there, still wrapped in his arms, she knew she wouldn’t have it any other way.

[ichokedonmyoreo]

Leash (Kuvira x reader)

Heyy this my first time posting a fic over here but I've found such a big community that I wanted to join in. This is a very quite interesting thing about Kuvira... God she's just SO hot.

K I'll probably write smthn about Abby but I take y time writing I'm so sorry 😭😭 (I haven't quite gotten a good glance at this one so if you spot any mistakes pls let me know) lyy hope you like it!

Mdni (+18)

Your upper limbs are being held tight above your head. Bone freezing metal is restraining your wrists against the wall, stretching your arms and back entirely. Your bare back erect on the marble wall, with your legs intertwined, one on the floor, the other above it, close to your chest while sitting on the ground.

She was merciful enough to just cuff your ankles and not restraint them entirely.

Your sight is being blinded by a soft fabric. The sound of firm boots approaching you made your heart beat faster, your skin arouse and your nipples respond at your exposure, completely naked for the general.

You could hear a second set of footsteps crashing against the wooden ground accompanied by a masculine voice, hidden only by a black folding screen. 'Pretty decoration for my office, just like you,' she used to say.

You couldn't help but hear the business talk. Kuvira not lowering her guard answering word by word what you had adviced her to, tho for a very different purpose than what she had told you. Her coldness sometimes amazed you; how could someone care so much yet be cruel with the consequences if proven against her.

You were feeling bored, even wanting to be amused. Being tied up like this for twenty minutes made someone want to entertain themselves. So, knowing damn well you'd be punished either way, you decide to rub yourself against your heel. Glorious feeling as your demanding core got it's friction.

You knew how much she loved to see you like this; for you to picture her while pleasuring yourself. How she loved seeing you struggle yet sending the discomfort away just for that friction, pathetically squirming.

The room was quiet enough for your panting breath to echo across the office. If the other person closing business with Kuvira hadn't heard before, he definitely heard the gasp that escaped your lips as you had hit the exact spot you were looking for. It's not like you had made it loudly... You just made it, non-intentionally loud enough for the echo of it to be noticed. You stopped abruptly, returning to your original position causing the chains to crash lightly.

Oh, you were fucked.

After a brief moment where you could hear fabric rub against itself. More specifically, a suit; you could hear an aggressive thud, probably a documentation stack to bring back the attention to her.

After useless chatting from the negotiator, the deal went off leaving Kuvira quite successful. As soon as the doors closed, you could hear her bend the metal off her uniform.

"You can't help but be a nosy pet, can you?"

"I'm glad it worked out," you chuckle barely able to do so because of how stretched your back was being held.

However, the laugh doesn't seem to rub on the general. One could say you could even hear her scoff at the words.

"Oh it seems like we heard two different conversations. Your little act almost cost us our place at Ba Sing Se. No. It could've cost me my title. My empire." Her footsteps approach near you and your heart beat faster. It was true; you had messed up.

Even if she enjoyed it, the fact that the guy had spot the existence of something odd happening in the room, even if he said nothing about it, even when he didn't have seen you, it was a fuck up.

"Do you understand how fucking stupid it was?" Her tone rose, a hint of anger on her tone.

"I do. I'm sorry, general."

"Good. Because you sure are going to wish you hadn't soon enough."

She takes the blindfold off your eyes, covering your face from direct light as they got adapted to the lighting. Once your gaze met hers, you could see her usual expression, an angry, a dominant gaze.

You heart was about to burst, nervous as you thought of what she could possibly do to you. Neither of you moved for five seconds.

When she decided to return to her proud stance, you relaxed. It only lasted a second before the metal holding your wrists pulled you up making you stand completely on your feet. A loud groan of pain filled the room as your sore muscles had been stretched even further.

"Oh, no. Whimpering won't get you out of this. No. -she took your face with her right hand, holding it tight for you to look at her- You should've thought about that before fucking yourself infront of strangers like the slut you are." The words were spat on your face, her nose touching your bridge while doing so, throwing your head back as she finished talking.

"You're too sore? -She tucked a hair string falling on your face behind your ear, tenderly- does it hurt being like this?" You nodded.

She gave a step back and looked at you almost with sympathy.

"Well... Maybe this will help"

Without moving any limb, you immediately felt how the metal around your wrists pulled you to the ground completely vowing on your knees before her.

"Mm... good girl. This is better isn't it?" She squatted, taking your chin to look at her.

"You understand now? Where you belong?" She said with a sadistic tone while moving your lose head for it to nod.

"Good pet" your face fell as she abandoned the grip, standing straight once more.

"Say you're sorry." You looked up at her gaze: imponent, tall, terrifying.

"I'm sorry, general" A pout matches your expression.

"Oh, for fuck's sake! -She pulled your hair- That's an apology? Think. -She lets go of her grip and sends you to the ground once more- Now say it like you mean it." She waited with a grin and crossed arms as she stopped bending the plates on your wrists.

"General, I am truly ashamed. I acted wrong. I should've never been as naughty as I was. I didn't respect your authority and I misbehaved. Please forgive me, daddy, please." You beg on your knees at the verge of tears holding your hands together as a prayer.

With a wicked smile, she takes your chin. "That wasn't hard, was it?" she says while petting your nose.

Your eyes, still watery, greet hers, dark with lust. 

"You do understand I must punish you. How am I supposed to know you won't do it again if you get out of here unharmed?"

You nod accepting the verdict hoping it'll help you soften your way out. You sit on your knees and watch as she sits down on her desk turning towards you.

"Come here. We don't have all day," the tone on her voice darkens, eagered for the punishment.

"Lie on my lap, ass free. If I catch you trying to get off of me, the punishment will become much much worse. Got it?" She explains as you place yourself ready for spanks.

Once settled, she begins to caress every inch of skin on your spine, softly, waking your skin at its pace. She then moved to your ass cheeks, toying with them as well, wrapping them gently to let them fall.

"Look at this precious little ass of yours. So tender, so pale... I think it's missing some color, don't you think?" She takes your hair, gently holding it so it won't disturb your sight. She savours every word anticipating the pleasure it'll grant her.

Even so, you cannot see what she's doing. You can only hear her metal bend. Her stillness makes you anxious. You know something's going to happen. You don't know when, how, nor with what object, size or shape.

As your head wonders, a flat, thin metal paddle slaps against your ass making you bounce on Kuvira's lap and a groan to abandon your lips.

The second it does, the general sends a metal plate to cover your mouth, hardly crashing on your face.

"No, no. Your lesson is to remain quiet. Good girls do not whimper, groan, moan or gasp when daddy's speaking. Understood?" Another hard spank hits you. A muffled groan echoing in the room.

"Look at these beautiful cheeks. Already red at their second spank. - She hits you again, this time harder causing you to grunt with tears already leaving your eyes. - They're about to bleed -She kisses your lower back- All you got to say for these to stop, is to make no sound.

She gently massages your cheeks, giving them air to recover. You had just started to feel better when another spank hit you. You tried so hard to hold back a whimper but you were already sobbing by this point.

"Sh, sh, I'm sorry, baby, but this is the only way. -She sets the paddle on your ass cheeks, this time for the coldness of it to help with the pain- I know you can do it, okay, baby? You can do this," She kisses your head as the last spank hited you. It twisted your heart and burnt your skin. Your muscles tense as the pain ran through your body; pleasure soon replacing the burn. You take deep heavy breaths and manage to keep quiet with a burning chest.

Kuvira gently helps you get off the position and sits you on her lap allowing a tight embrace. "That's it. You did such a good job. You're such a good girl. Such a good girl," she tucked your hair away and gently kissed your tears away before kissing your lips softly, an apologize speaking throughout them. The right embrace helping you settle down with a warm touch.

"Good, good, girl -She kissed you deeply this time.- You deserve a prize for being such an obedient little toy, don't you?" Her kisses begin to trail down your neck, your skin ached in pleasure as she did.

"I'll start by letting you be as loud as you need to, how does that sound baby?" She purposefully licks before sucking on your neck causing you to moan and her to devilishly smirk.

"I love to hear you, don't you forget that." She kisses this time hungrily, with passion. She licks your lips for entrance, becoming even more lustful as she breaks it, biting your lower lip.

"What do you want your price to be? Hm?" She asks caressing your cheek.

You come close to her kissing your way to her jaw, lowering and licking your way to her cleavage. Beautiful grunts abandoning her breath. Your head moves upwards to whisper, brushing your lips against her earlobe while doing so, making sure you showed how bad wanted it.

"I want you to fuck me good, daddy."

That phrase was enough to change the mood again. Your heart beats faster as the general takes off her uniform, still on her lap with your legs around her waist.

She begins undoing the neck, then following the buttons. You knew she liked to pull a show, looking straight into your eyes as she was getting ready for what would follow. You let go of the embrace, looking pleased at the performance as you grind against her thigh. Slowly. Following the pace of her fingers exposing her chest and abdomen for you.

She leaned her arms backwards, the fabric slipping from her shoulders to the wooden desk.

She looks at you, inviting with her gaze to get closer. You balance your weight forward once more, your foreheads leaning against each other, feeling your breaths crash in warmth. Her hand traveled from your bare lower back to right between your shoulder blades.

"You'll have to get off me to get this done, love" she says with a soft chuckle as her thumb caresses your skin.

You chuckled in response, taking your legs to work again, standing right infront of Kuvira.

The sight merely astonishing in the scarce light.

With a smirk, you took her knees setting them apart opening up a gap for you to slide in. Once your hips are right infront of hers, you take her legs around your hip and approach her, sliding your hand from her jawline till you cupped her head, reaching for a heated kiss.

Your free hand trailed from her waist to her covered breasts, teasing, waking the skin underneath your touch. Sighs and whimpers slipping from your lips. Her touch woke even more hunger in you as she grabbed your ass cheeks, pressing your hips together.

The tease became too overwhelming to bare, making you unclasp her bra, setting it aside. As soon as the fabric hit the laminated floor, your hands were already taking her breasts, holding them, feeling them fill every inch of your palms; how her nipples hardened at the contact making you so much more needed to please her. Your thumb begins to brush the bud as your lips keep smoothing around hers with saliva strings already filling your chin with drool; cleaned and messed out again and again by Kuvira's mouth.

Almost simultaneously, her lips trailed down your neck, right below your jawline, right where she knew you loved her at. Only able to whimper and melt at her touch as your breasts and hips grinded together, sometimes bumping with your working hands. Your neck completely forgotten as you slowly let your head hang loosely backwards granting more working areas to the general's mouth.

As heavy sighs filled the room, you can feel Kuvira's nose sliding on your neck following your pulse line before nibbling your neck, sucking carelessly, claiming what is hers.

"Ah~ God, Vira..."

Your core wet and lips anxious as you allow her more play time before slowly pulling away with an apologetic yet teasing smirk as you dropped to your knees, sliding your fingers on her trousers waistband. Once fully kneeled, you undid her belt. Kuvira knew how much you enjoyed the excitement, the noise, the implication of doing so yourself as it unbuckled. The general herself, bending it away as soon as your fingers let go of the buckle with an impassive gaze; one so many have feared yet one that made your heart skip a bit and your legs waver.

She unzipped them herself, your hands already on place to pull them down, taking her underwear as well, a bit desperate yourself as you made sure they came completely off before beginning to worship her legs, caressing her calves before placing them over your shoulders. Wet kisses decorating your way to her center as your hands slide to her hips.

Taking your time, sucking on the denser skin as you got closer and closer. Once you were so close, your breath send shivers to the general as she stroked your head, sliding her fingers combing your hair while doing so. 

With a smirk, you began to kiss the hot skin around the pubic area, teasing for as long as you could, giving up under a minute as your lips kissed over hers to make your way to her core. Regardless, you look up, asking for permission before starting.

The moment her gaze matched yours, with a broad lick, you savour her slit coating your tongue with her slick as you do so.

You feast on her, drunk on the feeling as your tongue ravishes on her as much as it can, enjoying pacing around, sliding and teasing her entrance accompanied by beautiful sighs turn into held back moans.

You sat right beside her and leaning your head on her shoulder. In two seconds, her hand was holding you in place, tenderly as her breathing went back to normal.

"It was great," she said with an airy breath.

You stay like that for a while, holding each other. Not quite saying something but feeling everything. She carefully took her hand from your head and you sat straight as she stood up.

"You were such a good girl" she comes closer raising your chin.

"But I think we need to reinforce what we learned today," she walks toward the drawers, pulling out a dildo-less strap-on. She put it on as a daily ritual, easy, instinctively.

"On your knees."

Immediately, your knees hit the ground. The only thing you cared about was her.

"So pretty for me." She fixed your hair, caressing your cheek while doing so.

Quietly, the dildo was assembled from metal, standing attached to her, ready for you. As soon as you see it, you know what to do.

You tease the tip kissing it softly, sucking a bit while your eyes are set right in hers. You put on a show. Your tongue sliding and letting it flop out of your muscle.

"That's right, suck on daddy's cock."

You began to take it with your whole mouth, just the half, hitting your gag reflex. Brows knit together, you look at Kuvira.

"Shh shh. No noise." She caresses your cheek, encouraging for you to take the dildo deeper. Slowly, making sure you could breathe, you take it all the way in until your lips meet her skin.

Her hands switch position, holding you in place by pushing your head closer. You made your best to keep your throat open.

"You can't quite speak with daddy's cock on your mouth can you?"

You shake your head.

"You'll teach me how you can use that pretty mouth of yours for something helpful." She pushes the dildo even deeper in your throat before pushing your head away.

A deep scream for air filled your system with oxygen again. Drooling all the way to your belly. You look up searching for the general's look. You feel dirty. You feel ashamed. You feel treasured, you feel seen.

She gives you a smirk and you bite your lip, resuming your position, begining to suck not as deep but rather quicker. Hollow sounds filling the room with ocasional gags here and there.

"Such a beautiful slut for me." She pushes you deeper on the dildo causing you to loudly gag.

A final deep-throat suck, licking the last bit with drool falling to the ground. She takes your face on a tight grip with her right hand causing all of it to slide down your neck and chest, coating you on a shinny glace.

"Look at you. My pathetic little whore," She chuckles tracing your lips with her thumb. You immediately suck on it and she laughs.

A pure sadistic laugh. You loved watching her on your knees. So beautiful standing in glory.

"Whatever I'll do to you..." she looks directly at your eyes before letting go of you. "Turn around."

With you back facing Kuvira, you could just listen to her kneeling. Her hand ran its way from your lower back all the way to your shoulder. She leaned closer, her breath warm on your nape waking your skin as she kissed all the way to you shoulder and right under your jaw.

"I want you so fucking bad." Her arms wrapped around you nearly suffocating you before completely abandoning you by throwing your weight to the ground. Fast enough, you placed your hands before you.

"You want me to fill you up, baby?" She slapped your cheeks making them ache and your cunt to clench.

"Please, daddy," you pressed your chest to the ground and turned your head sideways, raising your ass even more for her to fuck.

Kuvira teased your entrance with the tip, still wet with your spit. Her hands squeezed your cheeks before running their way on your back.

"Arms up."

You raised your arms so the general could hold them in place. The discomfort was mild but, oh did you enjoyed it.

"Such a good girl..." Her free hand guided the dildo to your entrance, easily slipping in. Slowly but steady, Kuvira pressed each time deeper and deeper until you had taken it all in. Between gasps, your walls adjusted to the toy.

Kuvira smirked as she felt you had loosen up, moving her hand right on your hips. Her thumbs perfectly placed on your venus dimples, "perfectly made for me to fuck you."