#i was listening to escape the fate and it just came up?

[hysterotic]

genuinely wanna know your writing process because I love your writing!! like how long did it take to plot out stuff and write the first chapter!

hiii hello yves i hope ur doing well!! <3 tbh being a horror fiend did the job for me. but that chapter took ages to write, i deleted it and rewrote it so many fucking times. it used to be called “bodies bodies bodies” since it would only revolve around the game. it spent months rotting in my drafts untouched because there were scenes i wanted to write into the chapter but it wouldn’t make sense why i wrote it, i would also add extra characters that didn’t really have a good reason why they’re there or invited, until i switched it to a haitani halloween party, made the place bigger, added ghostface in it bc sexxxxxxxyyyyy, and i wanna be chaaasedddd with a kniffeeee!!!! after finally getting a good enough plot, it took 2 weeks to finish it completely (only bc i already had scenes in mind i wanted to include). long story short i let my clit take the reigns and write.

[galamalion]

𐕣. 𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋, 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇

summary. time inevitably approaches all, but an otherworldly suitor has other plans for you.

⤷ contents. yandere!vampire!chrollo lucilfer x fem!reader, yandere themes, imprisonment, unhealthy relationships, blood // wc. 2.0k

⤷ notes. a very happy birthday to @ddarker-dreams! i wanted to write something cute and evil as a thanks for all the chrollo treats she's given out! hope you enjoy! <3

Dusk began to creep in across the horizon, dimly counting down the few hours before night would fall, allowing the silver moon to take its place among the stars. Golden rays began to dim, passing through the extravagant window in the room you’d been staying in, casting a faint glow across furniture and floor alike. 

Perhaps ‘staying’ wasn’t the correct word to use, though. It made you sound like a visitor, which you certainly were not. The metal lock on the door, the same shade as the setting sun, sealed you into a plush and comfortable tomb, only allowed to wander beneath illuminating moonlight. 

It was the only time he was allowed out too, after all.

You remembered the first time you met that man—Chrollo, as he called himself, though perhaps he had gone by a different name in years past. He called you glorious, a singular rose in a field of boring dandelions, waiting to be plucked and worshiped by a kindred soul. As the daughter of a farmer, his honeyed words made you feel warm inside. Night after night you would meet with him in the woods beside your village, listening to him speak about poetry, books, and the world outside your own quiet one. He made you feel alive—like setting a helpless dove free from a poorly made cage of twigs.

If only he told you the dove was just flying into a golden prison. Maybe you would have run then, told your mother and father about the wicked and beautiful stranger in the woods. But his stories and words wove you into a web too tight to escape, and too alluring to even want to.

You sighed, both out of boredom and out of anguish. Your sleeping habits had changed since you’d been brought to this ancient castle. Now you would wake up just before sunset, giving you time to prepare yourself for Chrollo’s bothersome speeches. Back when you were younger you would have found them poetic—dashing, even. But now, all you wanted was for him to leave you alone. Return you back to your family, your friends, and your village.

The first time you’d ever begged him for that he just smiled, wiping tears off your lashes and running his hand gently through your hair.

“They’re gone,” he had cooed, coaxing your back. “There is nothing for you to return to, my dear.”

His words only brought more tears, and broken sobs along with it. A cacophony of anguished screams and hopeless crying continued night after night, and Chrollo had left you alone for them. He returned on the third night, comforting you through your discordant howling and tears, not saying a single word. Only gently stroking your hair and humming a lullaby ever so softly, bringing your wailing to a whimper as you dozed off to sleep, tears still running down your face.

You should have hated him after those words, hated him until the sun and the moon and every last star in the sky burnt out. Until your bones turned to dust and that dust turned to nothing, as all good things should. But instead, you let him comfort you, as he had done before. You let him hold you and sing to you and your hatred dissipated almost as quickly as it came. Now, the only person you can hate is yourself.

The resounding chime of a bell echoed throughout the castle, finding its way under the door and into your ears, and one look outside confirmed what the bell had just screamed to you. The moon, illustrious and horrid—a grim reminder of your fate, stood proudly amongst its brothers and sisters in the inky sky.

Oh, how you preferred the sun.

A loud knock on the door—one you’d grown to expect—caused you to stretch out of bed and to the middle of the room, throwing the closet open.

Dresses in onyx and sangria were all you had, each only slightly different in design. Some had lace trims, intricately made and without flaws. Others had slits so high you were certain your mother would have chased you out of the village herself. All chosen by Chrollo, of course. You didn’t even know what sangria was before you’d met him, a drink too rich for you to ever experience on your own.

“I’m not decent,” you called out, scanning your limited options. A faint chuckle was barely discernible through the thick wooden door, a sign that Chrollo would wait, though not for long.

You shuffled out of the loose nightgown and tossed it into a basket. With Chrollo breathing down the door you had almost no time to carefully choose your dress of the day—not that it particularly mattered to you. But it was better than letting Chrollo have control over another aspect of your life.

A simple black gown, without lace or an indecent alteration, was your choice. The neckline was plunging—far more than anything you wore—but you had learned to push your own feelings down.

“Modesty only matters when around others,” Chrollo had told you. “But here, it is just you and I. There is nothing to fear, my treasure. I am no beast.”

The fangs that creeped out from his smile warned you otherwise.

With a resigned sigh, you walked over to the door, gently rapping your fist against the thick wood. The door slid open with a loud creak—just like every other antique in the ancient palace. Your gaoler smiled upon seeing you, taking the time to look at your body.

“You resemble an ancient tome of poetry, appreciated only by its author,” Chrollo said, stepping into the room.

“Are you calling me old?”

“I apologize if you took it that way,” he chuckled, brushing a stray hair out of your face. “I merely mean to say that you are a sumptuous artifact, deserving of being remembered by history for all time.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms and ignoring the shiver that never failed to arise when Chrollo was with you.  “I prefer a simpler life, thank you.”

“I believe this one suits you far better. If you gave it a chance, I’m sure you’d come to realize the same.”

“I liked my old one.”

“Come now, my dear,” he sighed, moving a cold hand across your shoulder blades. “You always insist on speaking of the past. Why not look towards the future? It has so much to offer you.”

“Have you grown bored of comforting me?” you spat, pulling away from his touch. “Where are your soothing words, your golden gifts? Have you found a new game to play?”

Chrollo frowned, not bothering to reach for you again. Instead his arms rested at his sides, peacefully. Lifelessly.

“I have grown tired,” he emphasized, “of your refusal to move on. I have given you so much, only for it all to be rejected. I thought time would sway your choice, but it appears that I have failed to consider your…stubbornness.”

His expression had changed in the blink of an eye, now sporting his usual disconcerting smile.

“Walk with me,” he commanded, already stepping out of the room.

Your feet moved against your will, gliding across the floor and after Chrollo. It was something you hated, even more than his smug attitude and unneeded grandiose vocabulary. You could always reject him with your words, but in the end he had the power to cut your actions short. An obnoxious monster, as always.

“I have been thinking,” Chrollo began, trailing the dark halls, “about us. And my offer. I believe that I have been…entertaining your behaviors for too long. Time is a fickle thing for beings like you, and I fear you may not have much left.”

“I’m not dying,” you snorted. “Or are you just worried that I might start wrinkling early?”

Chrollo laughed at your words, “I am not afraid of fine wine, my dear. Just that your behavior will soon spiral out of control. If something were to happen, I would hate to have to chase you down. That is all.”

Your walk ended in the garden, bushes towers high above you and Chrollo. It was a place that, despite its beauty, you weren’t too fond of. It was a maze of Chrollo’s making—intentional, knowing him. If something were to enter through the garden, they would never make it to the castle before Chrollo got to them. And more importantly, you would never make it out.

A clearing stood before you, a wooden pavilion with a dozen chairs surrounding a table. Where fancy ladies would meet for fancy tea and gossip about the fancy going-ons in the palace. Like in storybooks you would read as a child.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Chrollo said, approaching the table. Upon it laid a goblet, and, despite the distance separating you, you could make out the sharp gleam of a knife.

��Choices must be made my dear, and I’m afraid that this is one I must make myself. I cannot bear the thought of being without you, and I seek to make our union permanent.”

Chrollo raised a hand in your direction, willing you to stand right before him.

“I could sink my teeth into your throat,” he chuckled. “We would become closer, that way. But you are wearing a 12th century royal Gorteauan gown, and I’d simply hate to ruin it.”

Your blood ran cold as he grabbed the knife, bringing it between you. It was almost as sharp as his fangs, but just as dangerous.

You knew what it was for, undoubtedly. Chrollo had talked about it plenty—about turning you into what he was. About stripping your mortality and bringing you a step closer to eternity. To paradise, to Eden, he claimed. You always pushed against his wishes, though. Insisting you had more life to live, that you were too scared, anything to halt the inevitable. But Chrollo was inevitable, and at the end of the day, his wishes all came true. Never yours.

The knife made purchase with the palm of Chrollo’s hand, causing droplets of crimson blood to spill out from the wound. He brought his hand up to your face, close enough for you to smell the iron from the cut.

“You only need to ingest a little bit. More than a lick, of course. But I’m quite potent,” he smirked.

If you weren’t so terrified, you maybe would have chuckled. Maybe you would have ran.

Chrollo’s smile slowly fell as you continued to do nothing, “Go on. I would hate to force you to do this as well.”

You took a shuddering breath and looked at the pool of blood, “Will…will it hurt?”

“Not a bit,” Chrollo assured you, his smile returning. “It will be painless. You’ll fall asleep afterwards, and your old life will feel like a dream. A rebirth, if you will.”

He continued, “Just think of what you will be now. No longer and Eve, now a Lilith. You will have power, permanence among the living, and me."

“...And it won’t hurt?”

“Not a bit,” he smiled.

You slowly lifted his hand, still freezing cold, closer to your mouth. You let the blood touch your quivering lips, staining them crimson. Perhaps you looked alluring, shaking like a deer with your reddened lips. Especially to a beast like Chrollo. A beast you would soon become. 

With one final anguished cry, you drank of his blood. It was as cold as his body, perhaps even colder. It did nothing to freeze your nerves, nor stop the tears that rolled down your cheeks. Those, too, began to feel colder and colder.

Chrollo held you close, running his free hand along your shoulder, whispering sweet comforts in your ear. Already the world seemed to be getting darker as each touch felt more dull.

“Now, now, my dearest angel. Imagine what new heights we can reach,” he chuckled, wiping stray blood from your face.

“We have all of eternity to see them. Together.”

[radiance1]

"Daniel, get off of me." Vlad hissed, trying to get the child off his back.

"No, I'm tired, sleepy, and you're the closest thing to rest on." Danny groaned, flopping himself further onto Vlad's back.

"Daniel this is not what you're supposed to be doing at an event like this get off of me-" Vlad reached a hand behind his back, trying to slap Danny away from him to the best of his ability.

"Nooo." Danny moved away from Vlad's hand and slapped it when it got to close for comfort.

"Daniel you were to be my eyes for the night get off-"

"Ah, Vlad! Good to see you!"

"...Daniel," Vlad whispered. "When and how did your oaf of a father get here-"

Danny creaked an eye open and peeked over Vlad's shoulder, only to recoil and hiss at the brightness of the smile on Bruce Wayne's face. "It's Bruce Wayne."

Vlad hummed quietly. "Ah, of course he was invited here." Vlad brought a hand up to rub at his face, careful to not touch the bandages wrapped around his eyes and sighed. "I can never escape Jack Fenton, even when he isn't here it seems." Vlad took a small second to sink into the depths of despair, before removing his hand and sending a beaming smile towards Bruce Wayne (Or at least where his voice came from)

"Greetings Bruce! Pardon my lack of sight but it seems fate is still kind to you, it seems!"

"You know he totally saw you not wanting to meet him, right?" Danny whispered in Vlad's ear, head on the man's shoulder.

"Daniel." Vlad whispered just as quietly, smile still on his face as he listened to Bruce talk about some charity he plans to do in Gotham. "If you will not be my eyes then at the very least keep yourself quiet."

[suni-writings]

Running out of time.

jude bellingham x fem!reader

When two people who didn't know how to love met at the perfect timing to ruin each other.

part 2 | part 3

wc: 2.3k

(content warning: angst, troubled relationships, situationship)

“I can't do this anymore.”

The words escaped her lips before even she could fully process them. It was almost a whisper — a sign of utter defeat, of how much she had struggled and how much she could not take another second of being with him. There was no amount of affection that could mend what the situation had done to her, no amount of luck that could change their fate and, most definitely, no amount of effort he could have shown at that moment that would make her change her mind. It was too late for anything.

If he had listened to her attempts of communication, if he did not dismiss her feelings, if he took her more seriously… A series of ifs that only involved things he could have done.

She had tried to stay with him as long as she could, even if she felt, from the start, that she was doomed from the second her heart beat a little faster at the thought of him. After all, who would hate themselves enough to fall for Jude Bellingham, knowing his reputation, knowing the amount of women he had around on their knees, knowing him?

She thought she knew him, she really did. At least, better than others. They had met at a strange moment in their lives, where a relationship would never fit. That was never what they wanted.

Jude had recently gotten out of a relationship, whereas she was avoiding any sort of relationship for more than a year. Each one had their motivations, and one thing was clear: no relationship was a rule.

So, she didn’t mean to when she realized she was falling for him. In fact, it was nerve-wrecking — constantly beating herself up and trying to smack some sense into her own head; anything that would bring her back to reality. And like that, without knowing her feelings were reciprocated, she created a distance between them, leaving room only for her anxiety.

As her sorrow eyes met his desperate ones, she remembered. Flashes of how they ended up like that flooding into her head without her permission.

“So,” Jude said once. They were at her place — something they used to do quite often. He didn’t like bringing attention to himself and he wasn’t one to take any woman to his place, considering how the press could be if someone saw.

She didn’t know much about Jude. All she knew was that he was a good kisser, a nice company and someone that would provide her aftercare. She couldn’t ask for much more than that.

But one thing she did know — he was confident. Not that she wasn’t, but he was cocky. And, judging by the way he nervously held his thumb, she knew something wasn’t right.

“So?” She asked, tilting her head, looking at him gently.

“I—” he gulped and let out a nervous chuckle. “Look, don’t get me wrong. I know we said it was only a casual thing, but I’ve always been a man that liked, you know, talking to more than one woman.”

She nodded, furrowing her eyebrows, trying to predict what he was going to say. 

“What I want to say is—” he took a deep breath. “I don’t feel like talking to any other woman but you. I haven’t, actually, since this whole arrangement started. I know it’s only been a month, but—”

She laughed and he raised her eyebrows. She held his hand with an affection she hadn’t shown yet.

“Jude, it’s okay. I haven’t been with anyone else or even did as much as looking at anyone else ever since I’ve been with you,” she reassured him.

“Thank God.” He sighed happily, relieved.

The first and only rule was already broken.

“I can’t do this, you know. Can’t have a relationship. It’s not your fault, I just can’t do this sort of commitment at this point of my life.” Jude said while looking at her. She didn’t know where that came from.

They were peacefully taking a walk on a park close to her place. The cold breeze and the way his words somehow felt like a dagger made her shiver and cross her arms, not looking at him.

“I’ve never—” she tried to say. “We were never—”

What could she say? That they were nothing? That wasn’t the truth.

“I’ve never asked a relationship from you. I don’t even— want a relationship. We had talked about that since the beginning,” she said, furrowing her eyebrows. Did she do something that made him think otherwise?

“Let’s be honest with each other for a second.” He said and stopped her, turning her around to look at him  “This whole thing is running out of our control. I can’t do this. There’s no way I can have a serious relationship, one with actual commitment. I need to stop this before it gets to a point that I’ll hurt you.”

She swallowed. Despite her best efforts to hide how that hurt, maybe she was giving it away.

She didn’t want a relationship. They were in the same page.

But she was never the one to insist. Never the one to run after someone. In fact, her entire life, all she did was running away.

That’s all she knew how to do.

So, she just accepted it.

She sighed when she heard the knock on her door, her face twisted with annoyance. For some reason, Jude decided he wanted to see her and asked her to dress up nicely — something he knew she always did, but maybe he just wanted her to create some expectation and, perhaps, not dislike him as much as she was disliking him at that moment.

When she opened the door, he was standing there with a beautiful bouquet of flowers and in a perfect tuxedo. She would’ve sighed, if it wasn’t for the last conversation they had.

“You think you can buy me flowers and what? Problem solved?” She asked, not bothering to hide how much his presence maddened her.

“No. I know you better than that,” Jude said carefully, knowing he had to think well before speaking if he wanted to still be in her life. “But I can still buy you flowers, right? I know you like peonies. And I also like to think that’s a decent way to greet a woman you’d like to take on a date.”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“On a date?” She asked in disbelief. “I thought dates were too couple-ish for you.” She mocked him.

He sighed deeply.

“I was wrong, alright?” He said and run a hand through his hair. “Well, not that wrong. The situation is getting out of hand and we’re breaking every rule we made up, but you’re right, this isn’t like I’m dating you. Still, I’d love to have you on my life and for things to be… the way they were before I fucked up.”

She sighed, crossing her arms.

“My ex showed up that day and I just got nervous; I think.” He looked down. “I had never liked someone this fast, you know? I don’t know how it happened to us. But when she showed up, everything I was afraid of suddenly came back and I just— almost ruined us. Whatever this is.” He looked at her. “But you're not her, and I like you so, so fucking much. Can I, please, have the honor of a second chance?”

“It’s the only one you’re having.” She said as she grabbed the bouquet. “Nice choice of flowers.”

He opened the sweetest, most genuine smile.

“Things are so much easier when I’m with you. I wish it was always like this. That I could take you everywhere,” Jude said.

They were stargazing in her backyard, laying on the soft grass. His head was on her chest as she caressed his hair. They didn’t need to look at each other and he didn’t need to see her eyes to know how she felt — he could hear her heartbeat. It was more than enough.

He was going through a rough patch; she knew that much. And she didn’t know how to fix it, how to help him — it was out of her reach to do such a thing and he would hate if she even tried. His pride always took a tool on him, used to suffering in silence.

“I know.” She sighed softly. “I like being with you, if that helps. You’re my favorite person to talk to.”

“I hope I am,” he chuckled softly. “That’s why we’re sort of together, right?”

“Right,” she nodded. Things seemed so easier and intimate when they were like that. She felt his soft locks against her fingers and sighed once again. “But only sort of together.” She teased him.

“You’re annoying,” he joked.

“Touché.”

“Why are you so mad at me?!” Bellingham exclaimed, trying to run after her as she made her way out of the nightclub. He tried to reach for her arm and called out her name. “Stop, please.”

She stopped. Why was she still agreeing with anything he told her to do, anyway? Even when she couldn’t think straight, even when she was tipsy from all the alcohol she had consumed. Since when he became such a strong influence in her life that she would just submit to what he said? Why didn’t she leave?

Why didn’t she run away?

She was so good at that.

“I just—” She looked up, trying to find a way to put her words together and make it make sense. “I hate seeing you surrounded by so many women. And it’s so clear how much you enjoy the attention.”

“I don’t—”

“You literally left me standing to go talk to whoever that woman was.”

“You’re exaggerating and you don’t want to listen to me. Why don’t you just breathe for one second?” He asked her. “Look, I might enjoy the attention, but I wouldn’t leave you standing anywhere. I told you, when this whole thing started, that you’d never have to worry about me hitting on someone in front of you.”

And, to her, it felt like they had taken every step back. He didn’t mean for his words to come out like that, really. He knew what she had gone through in her relationships and how much anxiety she could feel from liking someone. He wanted to reassure her and was managing to do the opposite.

“Yeah, the same way we told each other this would be nothing serious,” she scoffed. “And it really seemed like you were flirting with her. How come when it’s with me, I have to chill and take a deep breathe, but when you’re feeling like that, I have to keep explaining myself?”

He opened up his mouth, but no words left. She knew he’d say she was making a fuss over nothing.

“Good night, Bellingham,” she said before leaving the club, not bothering to look back.

That same day, thousands of pictures of him in the club came out. He wasn’t doing anything, but her heart broke a little bit more from how many women surrounded him.

He didn’t bother to explain.

In fact, he had ignored her for two weeks.

That’s how they ended up here.

“You’re joking, right?” Jude asked, though he knew her enough to know if she was bluffing or not. “I just told you all my problems and— that I need a break from us. I need to focus on other aspects of my life, I can’t afford the luxury of having space for anything romantic.”

She laughed dryly.

“And what am I supposed to do, huh? Shove my feelings right up my ass just because you want me to wait for you? Or even worse, be your friend?” She didn’t mean to sound that aggressive, but the two weeks of no contact were more than enough for her anxiety to overcome every good memory they had and replace them with thoughts that he didn’t even really care.

“I’m not asking to be your friend! Jesus, you’re so complicated!” Jude exclaimed.

“I'm not complicated!” She argued back. “I’m just tired of having to put your feelings on top of mine, of prioritizing you instead of myself. I know where this ends and I won’t submit myself to this. Not to this, not to you, not with you.”

“Please,” he sounded desperate. Pathetically desperate. He held her arm. “Don’t do this to me. Wait for me. I will come back, I swear to God.”

“And put my life on hold because you want me to?” She asked, looking up at him, showing how hurt she was by the whole situation.

“What if I’m losing the love of my life over something I cannot control?” He asked her in a whisper, his brown eyes meeting hers.

It was his last attempt, that was for sure. But he forgot just how good she was at walking away. Maybe it was her fault for always finding some excuse for his attitudes or even for forgiving him, in first place. Maybe she should've walked away when she realized she was catching feelings. Maybe she shouldn’t have allowed him a second chance.

A series of maybes that only involved things she could have done.

But one thing was for sure: she wasn’t going to break herself over anyone ever again. Despite how much she liked him, despite the part of her that was willing to wait — she had been through too much to do that to herself again. She didn’t know if it was worth it, not anymore.

“I’m not the love of your life, Jude.” She said and did what she was the best at: walking away.

[ethereal-night-fairy]

Silver Tongues, like Bullets

Werewolf!141 x female reader

Trusting four men in the forest when you were lost was possibly the stupidest thing you could have ever done. Now you find yourself scrambling to escape their clutches.

Warnings: MDNI, Dark themes, implied kidnapping, manipulation, hunting, mild injuries, manhandling, non-sexual touching, non-con touching.

The lovely @vampire-matcha came up with the name for this. (I love you xoxo 💋)

Silver Tongues like Bullets Masterlist

Words: 3.7k

-27/11/2023 present time

Your feet race through the jagged terrain trying to find any hint of a trail to lead you back into town. Though it was near impossible to see. Your only friend was the crescent moon creating a gentle stream of light to guide your steps as you hurried across, dodging trees and bushes. The air sliced against your skin like icicles but you know you couldn't stop. They might be hot on your trail. You could almost envision their hot breaths coming out in pants as their morphed forms chased after you. Large bodies on all fours tearing up the forest in pursuit of your scent. But they weren't behind you, they couldn't be you haven't heard them in a short while. It was a miracle you even managed to evade their claws this long. God knows how you managed to get this far.

Had someone warned you that you'd be chased by four beasts who you had sought help from at one point you'd think they've gone completely mad. Maybe you've gone completely mad. Maybe this was all a dream and your brain is just trying to wake you up. Your legs were numb from the cold but you continued running, you couldn't stop, not now. You prayed that you'd just wake up in your warm bed. To your cozy home and familiar town. You ran through a particularly thorny bush, creating small cuts all over your arms. But you still continued even though all you wanted to do was lay down and hide somewhere until morning. Until you could see clearly and find a way back. You crane your neck trying to make out sounds over your laboured breathing and pounding heart. The blood rushing into your ears was making it difficult to hear anything noteworthy. Maybe you had lost them or maybe they thought you were too much trouble and had gone back but you were thankful nonetheless.

The trees start to thin and your heart feels like it'll force its way out of your chest. Were you approaching a road? A trail? It didn't matter your force to your legs to run faster. When you finally break through the treeline and onto the dark road you look around frantically. Cars!? Were there any cars nearby? You try to listen to the best of your ability as you calm down your breathing. Hot breaths condensing into the cold night. Your legs felt like jelly and standing up straight was proving to be a problem. You crouched down slightly, giving yourself a moment when you finally hear the smooth rumble of an engine. The light blinded you for a second when you saw the vehicle turn from the bend. You cover your eyes but stand off to the side so you don't get hit, waving your other hand like a mad woman hoping to get noticed. The lights get dipped and you get a better look as the truck slows to a stop.

The familiar black truck has your mind reeling. Your blood runs cold much colder than the air that was cutting blood circulation in your toes and fingers. You recognise the truck of your kidnappers. Fate seemed to be enjoying your torment. She wouldn't be putting you in such a predicament if she didn't. The car lights shine on you comically as if you're a criminal that just escaped prison. Before anyone could hop out you turn to run into the forest. It didn't matter how much your limbs hurt, you were going to escape!

You only get two steps in before you're grabbed by the back of your shirt. But you hadn't heard the doors open. Were they out in the forest waiting for you to slip up? Another pair of hands restrains your arms behind your back. You scream and claw trying to weaken their hold. Fighting tooth and nail trying to escape but you just weren't strong enough to rival the two holding you. Your hands were numb, much like the rest of you. You couldn't really feel if your blows were creating any impact.

You only see who grabbed you when you were pushed cheek down on the hood of the car. Soap had your arms twisted behind your back sporting a very deep scratch to his left cheek and many more on his arms that you had left before escaping. Ghost held your neck fully covered in his usual getup. It was firm but alot gentler than Soap. His gloves felt warm against the back of your neck. But you didn't let it placate you. You let out a huff of curse words and try kicking your legs backwards as the truck doors slam shut.

“Aye will ye give it a rest!”, Soap hold you tighter making you wince from the pain. He was clearly angry at you but was holding back for your sake. Wouldn't want to hurt their mate too badly now. You already didn't like them.

“Hands off”, you hear the clear rumble of the Captain's rugged drawl. Suddenly all the warm from your body disappeared, the two men had stepped back giving room to their Captain. Gently a hand ran down your back and spine causing you to shiver. You whine and place your face into your hands knowing you weren't going to escape tonight. You didn't want to look at them and you didn't want them looking at you. The fear and shame of failing was eating away at your insides. Not to mention the punishment that was coming when they finally bring you back to the cabin.

“It's ok luv, we've got you now”, it's Gaz's sweet voice that breaks the tension in the air as Price continues to rub your back gently trying to ground you. You wanted to collapse in on yourself to get as far away as possible as you could from these men. Gaz being the most deceptive of the four. He lured you in with sweet words and promises only to lock you up. You had trusted him when he said he'll get you home. That promise never came to be. How many days has it been now? Maybe weeks have gone by. You couldn't tell anymore the days have started bleeding in together. You wondered if anyone was looking for you.

“Let's get you back now shall we? We can figure out an appropriate punishment when you're safe and sound”, Price's voice vibrated through the silent forest where even the owls gave him authority over the night. You don't know why he was posing it as a question, it wasn't like they were going to listen to you.

Your tears obscure your view as you're led to the back seats with Gaz and Soap. Soap stays silent tightly holding one arm while Gaz coos and shushes you. He gently wipes away your tears holding you close, warming your shivering body from being ill dressed in the elements. The truck starts, the sound of the engine being the final nail in the coffin on your attempted escape.

- 23/11/2023

The leaves under your feet give a loud *crunch* as you stomp your feet through the familiar hiking trail. You come to a halt when the road breaks up into four different directions. You pick a path and start walking without much of a care. Your latest arguments with your parents had you fleeing to the comfort of the forest. You didn't understand why they wouldn't let you leave, you wanted more from life, more to experience, just more than this tiny town could offer you. You had finally gotten your dream job in the city after working tirelessly to improve your photography portfolio. You did all you could do to make sure you were always the best behaved child. You made it a point to do well in your studies and do your best to make your parents proud. You made sure to get a job a soon as it was legally allowed. You supported yourself throughout college even going as far as giving your parents money when you could spare it. Yet they still denied you their love and support when it came to things you wanted.

Your parents wanted you to stay close for their own convenience. They wanted you to stay to help them rather than pursue your dreams. They've been guilt tripping you since you graduated from college to not to leave town. That they needed your help with your younger siblings. That it was unfair and selfish of you after all they did to raise you into adulthood. That you would never make it in the city. That you wouldn't amount to anything without their help.

Leaves and twigs snap under your feet as you trudge through the rough terrain of the forest. Your anger and frustration carry you onwards despite your fatigue. Your camera in hand as you stop from time to time to take scenic photographs.

Time passes and the sun begins to dip in the sky, you suddenly come to a halt realizing that path you thought you were on now had turned into mud and grass. You quickly glance around trying to figure out what part of the forest you found yourself in. There was no trail in sight. Maybe you had steered off course when you were following that white rabbit. How long had you been walking for? You crane your neck to listen to try to hear some sounds of civilisation, cars, voices, dogs, anything to give you an indication that you haven't gone too far. But you were greeted with the wind rustling through the trees and some small birds chirping. You were too far in. The heavy feeling of dread settled in the pit of your stomach but you refused to let it consume you.

You glance at the sky. It was late afternoon, you knew the sun would be setting in a couple of hours. You wrack your head on what to do.

“Think! Think! What did I learn in scouts? Resources! What resources do i have?”

You pat your pockets to find anything useful. You grab your phone to turn it on again. You didn't have anything else on you except a warm jacket, your wallet and your camera. Regret was simmering in the back of your mind as to why you stormed out like you did. Your breathing becomes labored as you try to prevent a panic attack. The screen loads up to show you you've missed several calls from your parents and a few from your siblings. Your bars are low so try to get to some higher ground to get a signal to call them back. You climb a tree leaving your camera on the ground nearby to get better reception but you could only manage one bar. You try calling a couple times before the call finally connects.

“Mom? Mom!, I'm in the forest. I think I'm lost. Mom?”, you try to speak but your mother's voice comes back broken and in a static state. She couldn't hear you. You try your best to communicate with the signal you had hoping she could piece together enough broken words to send help. You strain your arm up trying to get a better signal when your foot slips on a branch and you come tumbling down. The call cuts and you groan out in pain.

Your hands scrabble for your phone looking to see if it was damaged. The phone to your utter disbelief had landed on the boulder nearby and had shattered the screen to the point of it being unusable. You curse and shout in anger and frustration at your horrible luck.

-

You had stayed put after letting out your anger. Hoping that maybe your mom had understood enough to send help. The sun was getting low in the sky, you didn't have anything on you to build a fire or some sort of shelter so your best option was to conserve energy and wait to be rescued or try finding a trail in the morning. Not to mention the nasty bruises you were nursing now. You had tried looking around the vicinity to try to find a trail to follow after your phone broke but it just felt like you were going deeper as the fog got thicker the more you walked. So in the end you had to turn back. Not that it made much of a difference the fog was settling where you sat on a pile of leaves to protect yourself from the cold ground. It was doing very little from starving the cold from your ass though. The warm jacket you wore wasn't feeling so warm anymore as the heat of early autumn was disappearing with the setting sun.

You prayed someone would find you soon or pray that you lived to get back home on your own tomorrow. But with the way the icy wind was chilling you to your bones, you growing weary. Sitting in one place wasn't keeping you warm, you needed to keep moving to create some friction and get blood flowing again. So that's what you did. For the next 20 to 30 mins you jogged on the spot and did some jumping jacks to starve of the cold. And it worked until you tired yourself out and sat down again.

You kept your ears open to in hopeful delusion that you'd hear footsteps or maybe a group of campers in the distance that could help you. You waited and waited craning your neck when you heard the slightest snap of a twig or a whistle that sounded human. But maybe you were going crazy. Or maybe you were actually right and someone else was in the forest. You keep hearing distant whistling but it stops just as quickly as it starts, making you second guess yourself....

You hear the whistle again! And again this time closer! You get up slowly, your legs numb from sitting. You steady your feet the best you can gathering your belongings as you follow the sound of the gentle tune. The sun was setting and you needed to hurry before it got dark.

You weren't paying attention to your surroundings even though you know you should. This was how you got lost in the first place. But in your cold and desperate mind you needed to find the source of the whistling before the night forest claimed you as its own. You stumble and trip as you make your way to the gentle humming that was resonating through the trees now. The fog got thicker and got harder to see but you continued on especially with the blanket of darkness looming closer. The trees seemed to be growing hands the longer you stayed in one spot so you had no choice but to keep moving. The whistling had stopped suddenly, making you panic as you stood still. Thinking your mind was playing tricks on you but then the humming started and you continued to follow the comforting sound. You couldn't find a direction to follow without it. It was difficult to see more than a couple feet from where you were standing with the fog so thick. You had tripped and fallen many times scraping and bruising yourself further. You probably looked a sight. At least your camera was ok. It was probably running low on charge though.

In the distance you saw the soft glow of fire? Or some sort of lamp, you didn't know and you didn't care. You continue to approach it. Light meant civilisation right? Someone lived here, you could ask them for help. With the distance you had trekked today you hadn't realised how sore you were especially now that the adrenaline had worn off and your tender muscles were screaming from the falls you endured. The ground underneath you evened out a little as you got closer and it became much easier to walk.

Finally you reached the clearing. And look up towards the large cabin in front of you. The fog surrounded it ominously but you didn't seem to care. Your mind wasn't functioning properly due to the cold. You beeline for the open fire once you see it. You glance around quickly to see if anyone was around but there wasn't. But meat was roasting on the fire as you fell to your knees trying to get blood flowing to your fingertips. You glance at the cabin when you warmed up enough, there was a single oil lantern on the entrance but the cabin itself was dark. As if no one was inside. But there was a truck parked up on the side. You've never seen this cabin before, was it always here? Or perhaps you've never come close to this section of the forest to really notice. The best option was to wait for whoever was cooking this meat you think to yourself. Guessing from the size of the freshly cut meat it might be for a small group. You hoped as much anyway; a group of friends enjoying a trip to a cabin. You sat near the fire staying warm salivating from the smell, you hadn't eaten anything since early morning today. It was beginning to take a toll on you.

The soft whistling started again from the edge of the forest where the trees dwarfed the cabin. You hastily get up to get away from the fire not wanting to come across as rude to your potential saviors. You stand there awkwardly waiting for someone to emerge from the tree line, rubbing your hands together while blowing on them.

The heat in your lungs condenses into steam as you let out huffs of air. A figure emerges from the fog, someone tall wearing a red flannel shirt carrying wood and an ax. It's only when he gets closer do you notice does he sniff the air and stop dead in his tracks to look up. His coal eyes pierce you with great intensity. You stare back not really comprehending the situation. You wanted to say something, to let him know you weren't a threat, just someone who was lost and needed a little help.

But your throat seized up and the chilly air freezing up in your lungs preventing you from speaking. The temperature took a dip despite you being near the fire. He took long measured steps towards you as you stood frozen and unable to look away or speak.

Your mouth hung open trying to get words out but it felt like your muscles had stopped working. His eyes glowed orange from the fire as he got closer, his muscular body standing taller as he approached shoulders drawn back in a defensive stance. His dark skin looked radiant under the glow of the embers, his sweat shining on his exposed chest where two buttons were undone. You look down at your feet when your eyes locked with him for the briefest second. You don't think he appreciated you ogling his toned body.

He crouches down, adding a few logs to the dwindling flames and tossed the rest and the ax to the side like it weighed nothing. He got up again and fixed you with a stare, posture still defensive. Waiting for you to say something.

“I'm lost”, the words finally left your mouth in a hurry not wanting to anger this man when you were hoping to receive his help. “I-I didn't m-mean to intrude, I-I just heard some whistling. And I t-thought maybe you c-could help me find my way back”, you stuttered a response even through your nerves as the man continued to stare for a bit, his eyes dissolving of hostility.

“What town are you from?”, he asks gently while rotating the meat.

“Milster”, you say softly hoping he'd know the way back.

“Night has fallen and the forest is covered in a thick fog. We won't be able to show you the road back until morning”, he explains while proding the meat.

“We?”

As if on cue you see two more well built men appear from the three lines just like the man in front had a few minutes ago. They were all 6 feet or taller by reference to your own height. The blond one, a head taller than his friend.

It felt kinda intimidating that all of them were so fit. One had a knit mask over his face while the other was rocking a very questionable mohawk. Another man appears behind them with a very old fashioned beard but it suited him. He had a rugged charm about him and a friendly face to compliment it. They were all conversing while bringing in their hunt, not particularly paying attention to what was in front of them. The man roasting the meat goes over to where they were.

They came to a halt a few meters away from you. They all turn their head to bore their eyes into yours. You swear they glowed an amber hue for a second. You awkwardly shift your feet from side to side not knowing what to do. After they shared a couple hushed words they all came over towards the fire. The one with the mohawk came towards you while the others stayed on the other side of the burning wood, analyzing you but not in a hostile way. Almost as if they were viewing a small animal in the wild. Except for the mohawk, his eyes told another story.

He circled you like he was sizing up prey. A cold shiver made its way down your spine despite the heat from the rekindled fire. Your nerve endings were screaming at you to run or hide, muscles twitching in your legs trying to get you to move. He finally came in front of you again making direct eye contact. His ocean eyes transfixing you in your place. His boyish smirk exposed his overly sharp canines. It unnerves you completely.

You shouldn't be here! You shouldn't have asked for help! But before you can backtrack and leave the area his deep Scottish accent rings out.

“Aw ah poor little bunny, lost are ye? Dinnae worry we'll help ye find yer way home."

Copyright © by ethereal-night-fairy. 2023. All Rights Reserved. Writing not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.

[thewulf]

Escapism || Azriel

Summary: Request -can you make an azriel x night court reader fanfic request? I was listening the song escapism by raye and this just kinda came to me! It's kinda unhinged so you can change whatever if you choose to write it. Y/N and Lucien have been together for like 100+ years but then Elain Archeron comes along and they are mates so lucien begrudgingly breaks up with Reader... Read Rest Here

A/N: This one is sad but gets sweet towards the end. Reader is in her feelings!

Pairing: Azriel x Female Reader (Night Court Reader)

Word Count: 6.1k +

TW: Drunkeness, reader being mean, some physical altercations

Your relationship with Lucien had always felt destined. Willing it to be woven by the threads of fate and bound by centuries of love and laughter. For over a hundred years, you and Lucien had built a life that straddled the boundary between the Autumn Court and the Night Court, which you called home. It was a life full of compromises and sacrifices, but every moment was a testament to the depth of your affection for each other.

But fate had a funny way of not being so destined. Elain Archeron stepped into the picture. Her very presence unraveling the future you had envisioned. When Lucien revealed that Elain was his mate the foundation of your world crumbled. This wasn’t just about losing a lover. It was about the rending of a bond you believed was unbreakable. Lucien’s voice trembled with conflict as he confessed the truth. His amber eyes reflecting a pain that echoed your own. He didn’t want to leave you, but the mating bond was not something either of you could fight. It was powerful, demanding, and absolute. It was destiny.

Amidst your heartbreak a more piercing pain emerged when you discovered that your friends—Rhysand, Feyre, Cassian, and even Nesta—had known about Elain and her bond with Lucien before you did. Half of the Inner Circle knew, and the other half was excluded. Amren, Mor, you and Azriel were the ones left in the dark. They had kept it a secret hoping to protect you from the inevitable heartache. Yet this revelation only deepened your sense of betrayal. How could they, the ones you considered family, keep you in the dark about something that would shatter your life?

The night you found out was an uncomfortable one. You weren't usually one for confrontation, but the rage that built up inside you was ready to explode. As you sat among Rhysand, Feyre, Cassian, and Nesta in the quiet, imposing space of the House of Wind the air felt thick with tension. They began to explain, voices low and fraught with anxiety. They each detailed how they had known about Elain and Lucien’s mate bond for months. Their words were meant to be comforting but were instead filled with reasons and justifications about protecting you from heartache, sparing your feelings until they absolutely had to share the truth.

Sitting across from them in the quietude of the House of Wind you couldn’t hold back the surge of anger and disappointment that welled up inside you. "How could you?" you demanded, your voice quivering not just with sorrow, but with indignation. "You all knew. For months, you knew, and not one of you thought to warn me?"

Rhysand had a somber expression. He was the first to respond. "We struggled with whether to tell you," he admitted. His usual confidence replaced by a hesitancy that did little to quell your growing resentment. "The last thing we wanted was to see you hurt."

"And yet, here I am. Hurt all the same," you shot back. The pain sharp in your voice. "Hurt and betrayed. You chose to protect me from heartache but instead you ensured it."

Feyre reached out with her hand tentative and unsure. "We thought we were doing the right thing. We thought it might not happen. That maybe the bond wouldn’t take hold right away and..."

"And what?" you interrupted ripping your hand away from her touch. "That I’d what? Be spared the pain? Look at me, Feyre. Do I look spared to you?" Your voice was sharp. Sharper than you’d ever spoken to any of them before.

Cassian who was usually the one to lighten the mood sat unusually quiet. His usual bravado nowhere in sight. Nesta had her jaw set, her eyes revealing a turmoil that mirrored your own. It was a rare glimpse into her often-guarded emotions.

"It was never about doubting your strength," Cassian finally said, his voice low. "It was about giving you happiness for as long as we could."

"Happiness built on a lie?" you asked. The irony was bitter on your tongue. "Is that what our friendship is about? Lies?"

The room fell silent, the tension palpable. Each of them struggled with their choices, now clearly regretting the pain those choices had caused. It was evident in their downcast eyes and the slump of their shoulders. It was a shared burden yet unequally felt.

"I'm not just some fragile piece of glass," you continued. Your anger only fueled by their silence. "I deserved to know, to make my own choices. To prepare, or... to say goodbye on my own terms."

The conversation that followed was a painful unraveling of trust and intent. As they each tried to explain, to justify, you realized that this wound would take time to heal. Perhaps what stung the most was the realization that their intentions had robbed you of your agency. Leaving you to a mere spectator in your own life. They spoke of protection. Of sparing you pain. Each explanation threading through the air with the weight of unspoken truths now laid bare. Their voices blended into a cacophony of excuses, each one fueling the fire of your anger and hurt further.

Rhysand’s voice held a note of desperation as he tried once more to explain, "We only wanted—"

"Would you just shut up! All of you!" you erupted cutting him off mid-sentence. Your voice, resolute, sliced through the room. "I don't want to hear it. Nothing you can do or say will make this right.” The room went deathly silent. The gravity of your words hanging heavily between you. Their faces were etched with regret and shock at your outburst. It was a stark reminder of the deep rift that had formed within your group.

You stood abruptly. The chair scraping sharply against the floor. "I can’t be here," you stated flatly. Your voice colder now, resolved. Without waiting for a response, you turned and walked away, each step echoing your departure.

You needed space. Needed air to breathe away from the stifling atmosphere of justifications and apologies. You decided to go to Mor’s place. She too hadn’t known about Elain and Lucien. She hadn’t been part of the deceit that had upended your world. As you left the House of Wind the open sky above seemed to offer the first breath of true freedom since the revelation had shattered your peace.

The walk to Mor’s was quiet. The streets of Velaris holding a serene calm that contrasted sharply with the storm inside you. Reaching her house, you knocked briskly, and she opened the door with a surprised, yet immediately concerned expression.

"Can I stay here for a bit?" you asked without preamble. The weariness in your voice more pronounced now that you were away from the others.

"Of course," Mor responded instantly before stepping aside to let you in. Her eyes searching yours for the pain she was quick to sense. "Whatever you need."

As you stepped into the refuge Mor offered you felt a slight unclenching in your chest. A small relief in the acceptance of a friend untouched by the deceit that had marred your trust in others. You hoped to find the space to heal. To gather the scattered pieces of your heart and perhaps, in time, to forgive. But for now, you simply needed the quiet understanding of someone who had been kept in the dark as much as you had.

Compounding your agony was the necessity to leave the Autumn Court where you had spent half your time with Lucien. You had to come home completely now, full-time to the Night Court. Each step away from the Autumn lands was a reminder of the isolation waiting for you back home. Away from the life and love you had known. The Night Court felt more oppressive than ever. It was supposed to be your sanctuary but now it only served as a cage. It was trapping you with your memories and your pain.

Despite the profound sense of betrayal and the sharp sting of heartache that pervaded your days you chose to stay because Velaris was still home. It was here among the winding streets, the starlit skies, and the vibrant buzz of the Night Court that you had grown, loved, and dreamed. Leaving would mean abandoning not just the place but the fragments of yourself that still clung to the hopes and dreams you’d nurtured here. The thought of leaving Azriel, the one constant who understood your pain without needing words, whose silent strength had become your sanctuary, felt like severing the last thread of stability you possessed. In the depths of your turmoil, Velaris, with all its darkness and lights, remained a place where healing seemed possible. Where the pieces of your broken heart might someday mend.

You withdrew into yourself. Your nights consumed by reckless escapades and endless drinking. You shunned daylight, avoided responsibilities, and ignored the worried glances of your friends. Azriel, who had always been a silent sentinel in your life watched from afar. His shadowed gaze filled with concern that you were too lost in your grief to notice.

This spiral of despair drew you deeper into the depths of the Night Court where you sought oblivion in the bottom of a glass. You hoped and prayed it might wash away the ache in your soul. Your heart felt like a hollow shell, beaten, and bruised by betrayal and loss. You had to wonder if you’d ever find your way back to the light.

As the days bled into nights your world narrowed to the dim corners of taverns and the bitter burn of liquor. Training sessions were skipped, duties neglected. Each glass raised was an attempt to erase the sting of wasted years. You had given a century of your life to Lucien, woven dreams and plans tightly around a love you believed was mutual. Only to find it undone by a destiny that held no space for you. You couldn’t shake the feeling that your love had been a placeholder until his true mate appeared.

You felt like a fool, a pawn in the grand scheme of their secrets and politics. This revelation forced you into isolation. You could hardly stand to look at the people that left you in the dark. Let alone speak to them. Only Mor and Azriel became your solace. Mor who had also been kept out of the loop shared in your feelings of betrayal understanding the deep cut of being excluded by those you loved. Azriel, too, had been kept in the dark, his complicated feelings for Elain used against him to justify the secrecy. You found it cruel. A manipulation of his unspoken affections that only deepened your trust in him, knowing that he, too, had been a victim of their concealments.

Azriel watched over you with a quiet intensity. His shadows whispering of your pain in ways words never could. He knew the depth of your heartbreak having borne his own silent loves and losses. From the shadowed corners of the room, he observed your self-destructive spiral with a growing sense of desperation. There was an understanding in his eyes, a shared recognition of love unreturned that made him reach out to you despite your withdrawal.

Your interactions with Azriel became the few moments of genuine connection in your days. He didn’t push you to speak or to return to the life you’d left behind. Instead, he simply shared your space. Offering you a silent solidarity. His presence was your calm. And in his eyes you found the empathy you’d been denied by so many others. Yet, even this comfort was tinged with the bitter knowledge that it was borne from shared pain. Something created from the fragments of your broken hearts.

On one particularly rough evening, feeling the dull ache of wine coursing through your veins, you sought the familiarity of the library. It was a place that once offered solace, but now it felt like navigating an once beloved yet distant landscape.

Staggering slightly, you found yourself pushing open the heavy door of the library. The scent of old books and ink momentarily grounding you. Inside Mor was tucked into her favorite nook surrounded by a mountain of scrolls and books. Her presence immediately brought a smile to your face and without hesitation you blurted out, "Mor! My girl, let's go to Rita's." Your voice wavered with a mixture of forced cheerfulness and palpable pain betraying your already intoxicated state.

As you made this impromptu invitation you were acutely aware of Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel gathered in a solemn cluster near the grand oak table that dominated the room. Their conversation was likely heavy with undisclosed burdens. They paused abruptly as they noticed your entrance. The library usually a sanctuary of whispered lore and hushed dialogues felt oppressively silent as their eyes fixed on you.

With a deliberate effort to mask your pain with a veneer of cheerfulness you ignored Rhys and Cassian completely. Instead directing your gaze to where Azriel stood, his figure cloaked in customary shadows. "Hi, Shadowsinger!" you exclaimed. Your tone lighter than your heart felt. It was easier to pretend. To keep up the facade of resilience than to acknowledge the jagged pieces of your heart.

Mor quickly stood, catching the tail end of your forced merriment. Her eyes flickered with a mix of concern and understanding. She exchanged a look with the others. Her expression pleading for them to somehow mend the chasm that had opened between you all. But when she saw you purposefully ignoring Rhys and Cassian, her shoulders slumped in resignation. Recognizing the depth of your pain and your current incapacity for forgiveness.

She packed up her belongings. Her movements deliberate. "You're going one way or another, aren't you?" she asked you. Her voice was filled with a sorrow that mirrored your own. It wasn't a question, but a statement. A knowing of the inevitable path the night would take.

"Yes. I need to not think… just for a little while," you replied. Your own smile faltering as the false cheer began to crumble under the weight of your true feelings.

Rhys and Cassian exchanged a glance with a mix of frustration and regret marring their features. They understood that their attempts at reconciliation would be futile this evening. Azriel stood silent and observant. He met your gaze with an intensity that spoke volumes. He nodded slightly. A promise that he would keep you safe even if from a distance.

Even as you grappled with your feelings of betrayal and heartache Azriel had already found it within himself to forgive Rhys and Cass for keeping the truth from both of you. His capacity for understanding their motives. Flawed as they were by their protective instincts, allowed him to see past the pain they had inadvertently caused. Azriel recognized that their actions stemmed from a deep-seated desire to shield both him and you from the inevitable pain of Lucien’s bond with Elain.

You, however, found forgiveness not so easily granted. Your feelings of betrayal were compounded by the thought that your closest friends had decided your fate without your input.  Treating you more like a fragile object to be protected rather than a person capable of facing harsh truths. While Azriel had moved towards reconciliation you remained rightfully stubborn wrestling with a wound too fresh to close

With Mor in tow, you left the library. The heavy silence settling back among the shelves after your departure. Azriel followed discreetly. A shadow among shadows. His concern a tangible cloak around him as he watched you attempt to drown your sorrows under the guise of revelry at Rita’s. The night stretched before you. It was filled with the echoes of what could have been and the sharp sting of what was now your reality.

At Rita’s the ambiance had devolved into a haze for you. Each drink an attempt to erase the sharp edges of your reality. The buzz of the crowd and the clink of glasses were a distant backdrop to the storm raging inside you. As you reached for another glass your movements were sluggish and unfocused. A stranger slipped beside you, his smile too eager, his intentions unclear. He offered you a drink with a slick insistence that made your skin crawl even through the fog of alcohol.

The moment your fingers grazed the cool surface of the glass Azriel materialized at your side. His movements were a blur. The glass knocked from your grasp and shattering against the hard floor with a resounding crash that sliced through the bar's cacophony. "Enough, Y/N," his voice cut through your stunned silence, low and laced with an urgency that tightened his features.

"Why?!" The word tore from your throat, raw and loud, fueled by the sharp bite of alcohol and a torrent of pain you no longer had the strength to contain. "Why do you care? Just let me drown it all out, Az! Let me forget!" Your words were a mix of accusation and desperation spilling out in a reckless cascade.

Pain flickered across Azriel's face His eyes darkening with concern. "It’s not safe, Y/N. That drink. That male was trying to drug you. I can't—I won't let that happen,” he insisted. His voice firm despite the chaos around you.

Rebellion surged within you, potent and bitter. "Don't do this to me, Azzy!" The nickname was usually a term of endearment but now sounded like a rebuke, heavy with your anguish. "You can't save me from this. Let me have this!"

Your attempt to pull away was futile against his strength. Azriel’s eyes scanned the crowd one last time giving more a quick nod, his decision made in the span of a heartbeat when she nodded back. With no other choice as you continued to struggle against him he wrapped his arm securely around your waist and winnowed you both away, the world dissolving into shadows. You reappeared on a deserted hillside just outside the city. The sharp, cold air was a slap against your heated skin. The stark silence a jarring contrast to the noise of Rita’s.

“I can’t watch you destroy yourself, Y/N. I just can’t,” Azriel implored, his voice thick with emotion as he steadied your staggering form.

"Destroy myself?!" you screamed back. The frustration and hurt boiling over. Your hands balled into fists. Your entire body tense with pent-up emotion. "My life is already destroyed, Azriel! I've lost everything. My love, my dreams, my worth! What's there left to destroy?"

In your anguish you lashed out physically, pushing against Azriel's chest with all the force of your despair. He staggered slightly but didn't push back. He of all people understood your need to vent the storm of emotions inside you.

“You haven’t lost everything,” he tried to reassure you but even he knew where your head was at. You weren’t going to listen to him.

"I have!" Your voice broke, raw and quivering with the intensity of your pain. "For a century, I loved him, Az. A century! And for what? To be discarded when his real mate shows up? What does that make me? Just a placeholder? I'm worthless, Az. If he couldn't even love me, who will?"

"No, Y/N, that's not true—" Azriel began but you cut him off again. Your hands pushing against his shoulders trying futilely to move the immovable.

"No, you don't get it!" Tears streamed down your face blurring your vision as you swung a punch. Your fist connecting weakly with his chest. He absorbed the blow with practiced ease. His expression pained more by your words than the physical contact. "Everyone has someone… Feyre has Rhys, Elain has Lucien now... and me? I'm alone. Utterly alone. Who could love someone so... so replaceable?" Your words tumbled out as a cascade of hurt and insecurity forgetting in your pain that Azriel himself had known the sting of unreciprocated feelings.

Azriel caught your wrists gently, stopping your strikes. His gaze intense, a mix of pain and resolve flickering in his eyes. "Y/N, listen to me," he implored. His tone firm yet tender. "I understand more than you know. I've felt that loneliness. That fear of being unloved and replaceable. But you, Y/N, you are not replaceable to me. You’re invaluable. You’re loved deeply by those who truly know you, even if you can't see it right now."

Your resistance faltered with tears spilling over as his words washed over you revealing his own vulnerabilities. You sagged against him, your energy spent, your sobs muffled against his chest. Azriel didn’t just offer comfort. He shared your grief, understanding it from his own unspoken heartaches.

"Because you mean everything to me," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the wind. A confession laden with the weight of his own once-hidden feelings. "And I refuse to let you believe you're anything less than that." In his embrace you felt a sliver of solace pierce the veil of your despair. Perhaps you weren't as alone as you had believed. In the quiet of the night with Azriel, you dared to hope that your heart could find a way to mend.

As your sobs quieted into weary, shuddering breaths on the hillside, Azriel recognized the depth of your exhaustion and despair. With a care born of years spent navigating the shadows, he scooped you up into his arms. His strength a quiet reassurance in the enveloping darkness. You were too lost in your own misery to protest. Your body limp against his chest as he winnowed you both back to the sanctuary of his room.

Once inside Azriel carried you straight to the bathroom. The soft glow of candlelight casting gentle shadows across the walls. Setting you down with the utmost care he turned on the tap letting cool water fill the basin. With a tenderness that contrasted sharply with his usual stoicism, he soaked a soft cloth, wringing it out gently before turning to you.

"You're safe here, Y/N," he murmured. His voice low and soothing as he began to dab at your face. Each gentle touch wiped away streaks of makeup and tears revealing the raw vulnerability beneath. His hands were steady and careful. Moving with a respect that honored your brokenness without making you feel more fragile.

Seeing you so shattered, so utterly surrendered to your grief, stirred a protective tenderness in him. After he had cleaned your face he helped you out of your clothes and into his own. Each movement was respectful and patient. His eyes averted to give you privacy even in your despondent state. He chose a soft shirt and loose pants. Clothes that would comfort rather than constrict. When you were dressed he guided you to his bed with his arm around your waist both a support and a shield. The world seemed to quiet as he tucked you under the covers.

You lay there, a small, fragile form in the vastness of his bed with your eyes staring blankly at the shadowed ceiling. Azriel hesitated, watching you with a mix of concern and a poignant ache to ease your pain. Unable to bear the distance, he lay down beside you. His body a careful line of warmth at your side.

As you lay next to Azriel his presence enveloped you in a tenderness you hadn't fully seen before. The night around you was quiet, the only sound the gentle rustle of the wind outside and your own unsteady breaths. Azriel's room was usually a place of solitude and shadows. It felt different now. Warmer, filled with a quiet strength and a palpable gentleness that radiated from him.

"Let it all out, Y/N," he whispered next to you. His voice was a soft command in the darkness, soothing and deep. His hand found yours under the blankets, his fingers intertwining with yours. You felt a sob rise again. The emotions overwhelming.

He didn't shush you or tell you to be strong. Instead, he squeezed your hand tighter. His grip a lifeline in the turmoil you felt. His presence was a vow of steadfastness. A promise not spoken but felt deeply.

Lying beside him, you realized you had never seen Azriel so openly gentle and caring. His usual reserve and cool demeanor were replaced by an earnest tenderness. It was as if the night had peeled back a layer of his persona revealing the depth of his empathy and the true extent of his kindness. This wasn't the Spy Master known to most. The one that was cold and calculating, always in the background. This was Azriel as only someone he truly cared for might see him. His kindness wasn't just an act of comfort. It was a testament to his genuine concern for you. To love you when you felt most unlovable. To be there in every low and hold you through every shadow.

"I'm not going anywhere," Azriel continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "You are loved, deeply. Even when it feels like you're alone. You are important to me. More than you could possibly know."

With Azriel's words wrapping around you like a gentle embrace you allowed yourself to believe, if only for a moment, that you might one day feel whole again. His kindness, his unwavering support reminded you that even in your most broken moments you were not alone.

Azriel didn't rush you or demand that you compose yourself. Instead, he simply held your hand throughout letting the quiet solidarity of his presence anchor you back from the tempest of your grief. As the emotional exhaustion of the day's events caught up with you, your eyelids grew heavy with the weight of sleep tugging them down.

With Azriel's fingers interlaced with yours and his calm breathing next to you, a profound fatigue began to blanket your senses. It was the kind of tiredness that came from having wept thoroughly and being in the presence of someone who demanded nothing of you but to be yourself. Slowly, the room around you seemed to fade away as you drifted into sleep. The echoes of your turmoil quieting into silence under the protective watch of the Shadowsinger.

As the first rays of dawn began to filter through the curtains you stirred, slowly emerging from the restless grasp of sleep. Your body felt heavy. Each movement laden with the remnants of last night’s despair. As you shifted, trying to orient yourself, you realized you were entangled with Azriel. His arms loosely draped around you, his body a protective barrier against the chill of the morning.

Opening your eyes fully, you met his gaze—alert, intense, yet filled with a softness that was reserved only for moments like this. He had been watching you. His eyes tracing the lines of worry and sadness that had settled on your face even in sleep.

The memory of last night's breakdown. The raw pain, the tears, the desperate words, rushed back in vivid clarity. You were suddenly mortified. The intensity of your vulnerability making you feel exposed and small. You tried to pull away, intending to escape the intimacy and your own mortification. But Azriel’s arms tightened instead, gently but firmly keeping you in place. You faced him, cheeks burning, and your words stumbled out in a flustered rush.

"Az, I... I'm just so—sorry," you stammered as if the words tripping over each other. "For hitting you, and—everything. I wasn’t... I shouldn’t have..."

He was quiet for a moment. His gaze steady and understanding. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and calm, cutting through your babble of apologies with effortless precision. "No apologies," he said simply. His eyes locked on yours conveying depth beyond words. "It’s okay."

"But I lost control, and I—," you tried again. Your voice a tangled whisper of regret and embarrassment.

Azriel gently shushed you with a slight shake of his head. "You needed to let out," His tone left no room for argument. "I’m here. That’s what matters."

Your attempts to articulate the mess of emotions felt cumbersome and inadequate compared to his succinct reassurance. You swallowed hard. Your next breath shaky as you tried to reconcile the kindness in his actions with the turmoil you felt inside. The warmth of his embrace, the quiet strength in his few words, slowly coaxed the walls around your heart to lower. His acceptance was simple and unwavering. It granted you the space to be vulnerable without the burden of judgment.

"You're here," you spoke softly. A statement rather than a question. You allowed yourself to lean back against him, finding a measure of peace in the security his presence offered. In the quiet that followed his steady breathing became a reassuring rhythm in the soft light of dawn, anchoring you amidst the remnants of last night’s storm.

As you settled deeper into Azriel's embrace, comforted by the warmth of his body and the protective enclosure of his wings around you profound sense of security enveloped you. His wings isolated you from the chaos of the world and allowed the weight of your troubles to recede momentarily.

Within this intimate cocoon Azriel's hands gently soothed you, tracing calming patterns along your back and occasionally running his fingers through your hair easing away the knots of both stress and sadness. This gentle touch, combined with the protective embrace of his wings, invited a deeper relaxation and a fleeting peace.

"You're safe here," Azriel whispered. His voice a soft rumble that was both reassuring and grounding. "You will always be safe with me."

His words were simple yet deeply meaningful. They comforted you, encouraging a slow, steadying breath as each word seemed to ease a little more of your turmoil. Surrounded by his presence the room no longer felt like just a physical space but a sanctuary against all your fears and uncertainties.

As Azriel offered a rare comfort his mind was awash with thoughts and feelings for you. He had always admired your strength, your grace, and the kindness that seemed to illuminate your every action. Even when you were with Lucien he had noticed how your presence could soften the hardest of hearts and brighten the darkest corners. His feelings had been kept hidden. A secret shadowed beneath his stoic exterior as you had seemed unreachably intertwined with someone else.

Azriel's interest in Elain initially served as a safe distraction from confronting the deeper, more intense feelings he had for you. Now with the situation having changed and the possibility of being more than just friends emerging. He realized that his feelings for Elain had been a way to guard his heart against the more daunting prospect of a deeper connection with you. Recognizing this, Azriel was determined to be patient. He understood the importance of timing and your need to heal. He knew that any possibility of exploring something deeper with you would require careful consideration and respect for your emotional state. Thus, he was prepared to wait. He would offer his support and presence as you navigated your path to recovery, hoping that when you were ready, he might have a chance to express his true feelings.

In this quiet moment as dawn's light began to seep through the curtains, Azriel made a promise to himself for you. He would be there for you not just as a protector or a friend, but as someone who loved you deeply. Even if that love must remain unspoken for now. He would help you heal, support you in finding yourself again, and offer his love silently, unwaveringly, during the times you found it hardest to love yourself.

"Whatever comes next, I'm here. We'll face it together," he murmured. His voice a soft echo in the quiet room. This promise was not just a commitment to support you through your healing but a silent acknowledgment of his hopes for the future. A future where, when you were ready, he might share his heart openly with you. For now, though Azriel would be your steadfast shadow, a silent guard to you with a love profound yet patient. Waiting for the moment when your heart could welcome the depth of his.

As the morning stretched lazily into afternoon, the quietude of Azriel's room was punctuated only by the soft, rhythmic breathing of you resting against him. The previous turmoil had ebbed away leaving a calm that hadn't been felt in a long while. In this peaceful interlude you slipped back into a deep, restorative sleep, cradled by the warmth of Azriel and the secure embrace of his wings.

While you slept Azriel carefully extricated himself to prepare a simple yet thoughtful meal. He moved quietly, his shadows flitting about, almost as if they were checking on you. Ensuring that your slumber was undisturbed. He returned with a plate bearing a light lunch.

As the soft light of the afternoon filtered through the curtains you slowly awoke from the deep, restful sleep. You had been vaguely aware, even in slumber, of their comforting presence. Something that went beyond Azriel's physical proximity. It was his shadows, those silent watchers that typically hovered at the fringes, manifesting his will, and echoing his moods.

These shadows which normally adhered to Azriel’s strict commands with unwavering discipline, had over time, subtly changed their behavior around you. It started with small gestures—shifting slightly to cloak you in warmth when a cool draft swept through the room, or playfully fluttering around when your spirits were low, trying to elicit a smile. Gradually they had begun to act almost independently when it came to you. They were drawn to your innate warmth and light. The same qualities that Azriel himself cherished deeply in you.

As you stirred awake, stretching and yawning, the shadows seemed to mimic the morning’s embrace. Azriel watched from beside you with a slight smile playing on his lips as his shadows caressed your arms and legs. They were reluctant to withdraw their gentle touch even as you became more alert. He made a subtle gesture, a silent command for them to give you some space, expecting immediate compliance as always.

To his surprise and slight amusement, the shadows hesitated. They lingered around you. Their formless caresses a tender contradiction to their usual stark obedience. When you noticed their reluctance to leave you couldn’t help but to giggle. The shadows seemed to flutter with a visible delight, moving closer as if encouraged by your laughter.

"It’s okay, Az," you said. Smiling at the unusual scene. "I don't mind them, really. I actually quite like them."

At your words the shadows almost appeared to swoon, swirling around you with what could only be described as affectionate enthusiasm. Azriel watched this with a raised eyebrow and an ever-widening smile, clearly amused by their outright defiance when it came to you.

"They're not usually this defiant... or affectionate," Azriel remarked. His voice tinged with both bemusement and a hint of pride. "Seems they've taken quite a liking to you."

You watched the shadows swirl around with a playful grace. Their cool touch leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin. Smiling, you responded, "The feeling's mutual." At your words, one of the shadows playfully swooped up mimicking a kiss on your cheek.

The whimsical gesture drew another giggle from you, a sound so light and joyful that it seemed to brighten the entire room. Azriel watched you with a deep warmth filling his heart as your laughter echoed softly. The sound so rarely heard in your despair was so full of life and free from the burdens you had been carrying, It was a melody he hadn't realized he'd been longing to hear. It reminded him of the resilience and beauty within you, qualities he had always admired now shimmering through even in your laughter.

Azriel’s gaze softened as he watched you interact with his shadows. The corners of his eyes crinkling with genuine delight. It was rare for him to see his shadows disobey but in this instance he found the situation endearing rather than concerning. The shadows, so attuned to his deepest feelings perhaps recognized the special place you held in his heart and chose to express their fondness in the only way they knew how.

As you continued to enjoy the playful affection from the shadows, Azriel leaned back, content to observe the bond forming between you and parts of his own essence. This moment, light-hearted and filled with laughter marked a significant turn in your relationship. It showed not only his own deepening feelings but also the unique acceptance of his shadows, making you a cherished presence in both his world and theirs.

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[z0mibite]

>1000 words, detailed descriptions of violence and a (sort of?) mention of s/a (⚠️use of the r word ⚠️), reader is gn! and up to interpretation throughout other than being considerably smaller than thomas and one mention of possibly bearing children. open-ended, so if you prefer angst endings for reader or stockholm, you can choose, it's texas chainsaw massacre, anything that's in either movie is part of the warnings just to be safe. dead dove do not ear, read at your own risk. also this is not proofread in any way, I literally wrote this straight shot right before bed listening to dove (doll ver) on loop and hit post.

READ THE WARNINGS BEFORE CONTINUING

imagine tommy keeping you, not to rape and defile like his uncle assumed, nor for you to bare children like his mama had hoped—but because you're just so nice to look at.

In the first film, tommy can be seen wearing rings, jewelry he's collected from past victims. also with the whole wearing people's faces to mask his own, he obviously has an eye for pretty things. and you're one of them.

It isn't just that of course, plenty of pretty people had come onto the farm, all meeting the same fate. he hadn't spared a dozen or so others, so why would he spare you?

you hadn't flinched at the sight of him, you hadn't run away crying like a child at their first horror maze, you simply smiled at him with those sparkling eyes, an elegant hand giving him a friendly, unbiased wave. you looked at him without prejudice, or preconceived assumptions about his character.

your friends hadn't given him the same courtesy. which is why you were here, chained to the workbench near the chopping block. the block he was using to dismember your traveling companions. a few of them hung from meat hooks, catatonic, their minds were weak and feeble, they broke at the sights in front of them, and despite the agonizing pain of lost limbs and shredded muscle, they were silent and still, waiting for their turn.

death was their only escape, they needed only to wait for it. you could see it in their eyes, each time he'd finish one off and turn to grab the next off a hook, they'd all follow him with pleading eyes. not for mercy, they were far beyond the point of return—but to be next.

your entire body was shaking like a kicked chihuahua. your muscles were all tense, adrenaline begged you to run, flee, to escape death. your silly primal instinct hadn't caught up with your concious. It was an odd feeling, having every possible part of your body screaming at you to run, and choosing to stay still, to betray your instinct with your intelligence. you knew you wouldn't get far.

despite the horrid conditions in the basement, a place where your senses should be overloaded; your ears with the echoes of their screams and the engine of the saw, your eyes with the gory mess, your nose with the pungent smell of iron and rotting flesh, your tongue with the dryness of your mouth from panting, and your body's fatigue from running around for hours—there was nothing but the racing of your heartbeat.

It was all you could hear or feel, and in your mind you could taste and see it as well, you felt the pulse rise all the way into your skull and down to your toes. you felt every rush of blood heat your skin like a furnace, moving past your veins and tissue.

your eyes aimlessly followed his body, unblinking and dry. he was deeply focused on his ‘work’, but he would still glance at you every now and again. you were just so pretty, a decoration in his safe haven, like a deer mounted above the fireplace.

hours had passed in what felt like seconds before he was finished. you hadn't moved.

he nonchalantly came up to you, his much larger hand going to cup your face before he froze. he withdrew his hands, wiping the bloody mess on his apron and washing his hands before he continued his previous action.

you didn't dare move, not even to flinch, as his held your head in your hands.

his thumbs caressed the flesh just under your eyes, rubbing around and about, seemingly fascinated by the way your skin folded and stretched at his will. he made a gesture with his hands, swiping a palm in front of your eyes, an attempt at communicating. when you didn't respond, he huffed frustratedly before letting his thumbs touch your eyelids, forcing them down to close your eyes.

he took your chin in-between two fingers, maneuvering your head in every direction, studying every feature. his thumb pulled your lips apart, showing him your teeth, clenched so hard they might be pushed back underneath your eye sockets.

after a he took some time to study you, you felt his thumbs come back to rest on your eyelids, pulling them open again. this time he studied your iris. he was clearly upset at the lack of light that prevented him from seeing the color clearly, but he looked closely nonetheless.

the sensation of breath enveloping your face, forcing you to breathe in the air he had just released, was one you could not describe.

his hands fell to your shoulders and moved downward till he got to your forearms, where he would trace the veins in your arms. when his hand met your wrist, he applied gentle pressure to it, his breath hitching as he felt your blood pulsate. he moved onto your hands now.

his were easily twice the size of yours, if not more. his nails were dull and blunt, the skin much rougher against yours. dried blood cracked underneath his nails and stained his skin a pinkish tone despite his tan. he traced the lines of your palm the same way a palm reader would, take away the tales of life lines and replace them with pure admiration.

he unexpectedly leaned in closer to you, his face now inches, if that, from your own. you kept your gaze ahead as he stared you down.

he brought his masked nose up to the top of your head and sniffed you like a dog, leaning down to your neck to see what else he could smell on you besides your faded fragrance and sweat.

It was only after this action of his that your body responded in any way in nearly 12 hours.

[skrrts]

stairs & life, up / down (oneshot)

✧ gn!reader x kim hongjoong ✧ genre: non idol, slice of life, strangers to love interest, comfort, soft emotional ✧ word count: 10,4k ✧ warnings: adult language, smoking (don’t do it!), loneliness, end of friendships, moving on from a relationship, getting over heartbreaks, facing challenges in life, crying

The ripping sound of paper, the clicking of a mechanical keyboard. Loneliness sounds & feels different to everyone but somehow, Hongjoong feels like you understand his. Yet, you confuse him. Why was your first encounter so bold when he hears you crying at night when you think nobody is listening? The fire escape of the old building suddenly becomes a place of comfort he didn’t expect to find in the loneliest city, filled with millions of people but now, there is you.

a/n: when i think of summer, i think of spending long nights outdoors because it's still warm and you just talk for hours without worrying about whatever happens tomorrow. hongjoong & mc both went through some hardships with different types of relationships but they are where they want to move on, all they needed was a hand to grab them and help them going forward. thanks for reading 🤎

The sound of paper being torn apart was often how Hongjoong would describe what his own heartbeak felt like and maybe, if it wasn’t already in pieces, it would be now. Fifty hours of passion, sleepless nights, and love torn apart, a woman with an unpleasant face hissing when she dropped his art like it was a random document.

“There was no reason to destroy it just because you did not like it,” he finally stated and received glares for daring to speak up. “It was garbage, what exactly did you plan to do with it? In fact, every artwork you have shown me in the past few months has been just that. What was the point in hiring you when your social media works were all fake?!”

Hongjoong wanted to wince but somehow managed to keep it together, being called deceitful as an artist who had given up so much for his art was hard.

“My style is exactly the same as the work you saw when you contacted me and I work the exact same way,” he bit his lip when she stood up and seemed more interested in answering her phone which was constantly buzzing in her overpriced pouch. People of her rank often held no passion at all, they only faked it for the smiles and the press.

”You have another month, if you cannot come up with the proper concept, you are out and of course, we cut your payment in half again. After all, since you came here five months ago, you did not deliver anything we could work with. That’s all.”

Hongjoong was about to demonstrate but the director of the publishing agency just left him standing there. 

He never wanted to come to New York, he could not care less about the city everyone wanted to live in but there had been nothing left for him back home. When he found the girl he loved and dated since high school being with another, the one he had given his whole heart to so foolishly, telling him it was a pity that kept them together for so long because just like so many other people around him, she judged him for his passion and his income rather than his values and happiness. Sure, he could survive from what he was doing but in their eyes, it was not worth to be called living. She dreamt of a house with a pool, a nice car, and an expensive beach vacation, rather than a cozy apartment, taking the bus and weekend trips.

On that day, when he was crying and walking through his hometown without direction, his parents said that it was time to finally grow up and work for a mindless ad agency that would gladly take somebody with his talent rather than chase his dreams of being permitted to illustrate an entire children's book, one with a deeper meaning unlike all the projects he was part of so far, where he often designed characters but based on guidelines rather than freely.

The invitation of a publisher seemed to be a wink of fate but now, Hongjoong simply found himself trapped in a city of millions, yet never having been more alone. 

Maybe he always had been, considering how blind love made him, believing to hold the love of a woman who cheated on him for who knows how long, likely even making use of his nights of working and being home late.

He had been such a fool.

The small ringing of a bell announced his arrival as he entered the familiar small grocery store which always was the destination at the end of days like today.

One benefit in all of his misery, Hongjoong was used to managing his life with little money, he could live from the shortened salary with some tricking and ignoring cravings. There also had been savings for emergencies, put aside for better times.

“How do you even manage to survive when this is all you eat?” San frowned, pointing at the selection of instant noodles and a few cans as he scanned each one. The store belonged to his family and the student helped out frequently. 

Hongjoong offered him a playful little grin: “Magic, Sannie. Now…”

He bit his cheek and the man knew, frowning: “Another package? You said you meant to quit smoking for good… you rather should get dinner rather than spend it on this shit.”

Painted nails brushed through dark wavy hair as he shrugged: “I’m an artist, we need to have some kind of weakness, yes? Unless I suddenly find a muse and that one makes me go insane.”

He knew the other meant well as he sighed but added a package into the plastic bag, handing it to him. “Just look out for yourself.”

Hongjoong smiled at the younger: “I always do. See ya.” The guy did not need to know what he was going through, maybe Hongjoong himself was still trying to understand just that.

It was easy to smile for everyone, he had become an expert in that field. Maybe he should join those TikTokers who made seminars out of canvas pages about something that barely was a secret but called it ‘Guide to Happiness’.

At least, he was about to be home, his haven. Hongjoong had been thrilled when he found the under-the-roof apartment because there was no AC and the building was rundown, the rent was cheap but he loved it because he easily managed to access the roof, there was nothing more beautiful than allowing himself to sulk in loneliness while watching the never sleeping city.

It was almost poetic, wasn’t it?

There also used to be the benefit of being the only one who did not put some shutters on the window which was the entrance to the fire stairs. The view was ugly, but it was handy to simply take the stairs and get right up.

Well, it used to be because the new tenant who moved into the apartment right underneath him did not seem to share the sentiment of the others, the window was always wide open and it would be creepy if he would rush past it.

He lurked up but Hongjoong noticed immediately how it was open again and he sighed, muttering to himself as he made the way up to the longer stairs. Too many. He dodged a few abandoned shoes of children in front of one, a growling dog at the third, and survived!

“I am home.” 

When he unlocked the door, silence greeted him. There no longer was anyone who rushed over to smile and welcome him back but now, he was not even sure if that ever happened or merely being an imagination, an altered memory. 

His apartment was small but that was okay, he didn’t need a living room and only having a tiny shower made being short less tragic.

While Hongjoong lived up to the cliche of being a poor artist, at least he did not need too much space.

His gaze went over the sketches still scattered over the kitchen table, picking one up: “Guess, you aren’t it either, sorry.” Unlike that awful woman, he carefully formed a small pile and put it in a paper tray for all his rejected designs, so far it had been every single one he offered to them. 

Maybe it was time to give up…

No, this was not the time to cry and get sad! Urgh, hard enough to admit he had been such a crybaby when moving here, the way how his heart ached and he was lost among strangers. It was when he started smoking again, something he stopped years ago but now.

There was nobody who would complain about the smell.

Hongjoong slipped into the shower, running water always helped to wash away thoughts, he just imagined it as he carefully cleaned every inch before enjoying the feeling of a fresh pair of clothes and ruffling his hair with a towel. 

“Attempt number seven it is,” he sat down, pulling over his tablet when a loud ringing sound interrupted the early hours of the night, enough to make him jump.

“The fuck?!” Hongjoong blinked, looking around but he was sure he didn’t even own an old-fashioned alarm clock. As the sound wouldn’t stop, he rushed to the window, lurking out only to realize it must be coming from your place. Why would you have an alarm clock going off at nine?!

Nobody else seemed to be interrupted by it but Hongjoong and he was working best at night. As nothing happened, he figured you probably just forgot to turn it off before leaving, how reckless to leave your window open in New York!

There was clear hesitation before he climbed out of his window, taking down the stairs: “Screw this…”

Your window was wide open, the curtains softly floating outside, all lights on. Your place was just a little bigger than his but you surely put more effort in! The walls were painted in a comfortable olive green, plants matched perfectly with the white furniture and there was a large gaming setup he did not really expect but then, what did he know about you? The bed was covered with far too many pillows but there it was, the one causing so much trouble.

The alarm clock had the shape of a flower, it was cute and he wondered how somebody who liked such a style would move to this part of the city…

“What do I do?” Hongjoong looked around. He counted to one hundred. There was nobody in sight, the sound drove him insane and he did not want you to get back home just to find your expensive equipment stolen. The world was an asshole to him but he intended to be better.

He swallowed and slipped inside your home, quick steps leading to the damn noisy item to turn it off. At that moment, the bathroom door opened and you walked inside, holding likely a few bottles of soap you just switched out, your gazes met and he could see how your face turned red, just like his own, and the next second, there was a small scream and you started to throw shampoo bottles at him.

Hongjoong tried to dodge them, dropping the alarm clock in the attempt and grabbed one of your pillows to protect himself.

“Hold on! Stop throwing things at me”, he called out but now you seemed angry.

“Why would I do this?! You just broke into my apartment! A thief? Gosh, you are one of those perverts, aren’t you?” You were one burst of energy, he had to give you that. Hongjoong was about to say something when he fell backward over another pillow.

His hands lifted up into the air, praying you’d not murder him with hair conditioner: “Hold on, hold on. I live above you! Your alarm wouldn’t stop and I thought you left so I meant to close the window, lots of robberies in this neighborhood!”

While your face remained distrustful, you held your movement in the middle of the air, frowning, doubting.

“Which neighbor breaks into a place to turn off an alarm bell?” you questioned and that was a good question. Who would have done that? 

“Well, I actually work at night, I need a little bit of silence but how am I supposed to do this with that noise?” he pointed at the alarm once more and this time, you considered his words.

“Fine, let’s say it is the truth. It’s still weird, you could have used the staircase and just knocked on the door like any other angry neighbor would.”

That was… a very good point. 

“I should have done that,” he admitted and slowly stood again. You were looking at him, maybe considering how he barely looked like a threat, considering he was wearing pajama pants and a hoodie with a washed-out brand name.

“Alright, I will forget about it. Now get out!” you pointed towards the window and Hongjoong found himself blushing in embarrassment. he clapped his hands, bowing slightly: “I promise to knock next time.”

As you hurried over, you wondered if he had seen right and there was a small smile on your lips as he carefully slipped out. As he turned around on the fire escape, you closed the window, and your gazes met for a moment, he was giving you a tiny wave before you rolled your eyes and closed your curtains.

Hongjoong stood there, blinking for a moment until he sighed and made his way upstairs, just to be greeted with the wind likely having shut his own, forcing him to go all the way down like that and up to his apartment. Thankfully he didn’t lock the door yet when he came home earlier.

“Tch, such a reckless neighbor,” he smiled.

“Oh? Oh! This is new!” Wooyoung fished the box with flower-shaped chocolate out of the paper bag. Hongjoong made a face, trying to snatch it but the younger grinned, holding it up.

“They are also kind of expensive, do you have a crush?” It took some effort but eventually, he stole his box bag and gave it to San who was scanning them.

“I am not in love, I just kind of pissed off one of my neighbors and now I intend to make it up somehow since they live in the apartment right underneath me,” he put quite a bit of effort in leaving out as many details as possible because Wooyoung would be curious enough to just knock on your window to see himself.

“Right, you said somebody moved into the empty apartment? Took some time, you mentioned that it was already without a tenant when you moved in.”

He appreciated the cashier was offering some distraction to his best friend’s consideration of just going with Hongjoong, he did not need to say it out loud for the older to guess as much.

“Ah yeah, the landlord was surprised when he offered that one but I asked about the rooftop apartment instead. I just like the peace and quiet, nobody above me, all that,” he mumbled, rubbing a hand over his neck.

“The Lone artist above the rooftops of New York City, romantic if you asked me,” Wooyoung winked and grabbed his backpack. “Anyway, time for training, call you later San!” He waved and rushed off, the other just smiled before handing the grocery bag to Hongjoong.

“I am sure the person knows to appreciate it, this is the first time I have seen you try and … well, mention to interact with anyone outside of this store.” 

Hongjoong tried his best not to swallow hard. While San only was having a casual conversation, he called out something that the artist had tried to avoid admitting: he had dodged everyone and everything ever since coming here.

The hurt was still too deep, the way the person closest to him, he smiled at and kissed every day, threw him away like trash and everyone else saying he should understand how it certainly wasn’t an easy life rather than taking his side

or just offer comfort.

He could have used a hug.

Now, it was hard to let anyone in. San and Wooyoung were nice but they just were two guys working at a grocery store that was conveniently close to his apartment, as kind as they seemed. 

“I just really like living here, sure, the neighborhood’s a bit … tense at times but otherwise, the rent is really cheap and the place is great to work at, not much noise considering we are in a city of this size.” 

San was looking at you, it was hard to tell if he took it or simply decided to keep his thoughts to himself but he smiled: “Well, just make sure to also enjoy the city, not only busy yourself with work. I know, artists are said to do that but yeah.”

It was as if he wanted to say more but Hongjoong already waved in tiny, grabbing his bag: “Speaking of that, I have a deadline so I better be going. Thanks again.”

Hongjoong was out the moment after, he could not hear San’s deep sigh when the bell rang once more.

He spent a good amount of time drawing a little doodle that looked like your alarm clock, looking upset and cursing about that weird guy in a little thought bubble. Next to it, Hongjoong wrote, "Sorry for having broken into your place, heard this chocolate is great." He was pleased with the result and carefully stepped outside his window, placing the little delivery right by your window, knocking against the glass, and he rushed upstairs, jumping into his own home as he waited for the noise of you opening.

His heart was beating loudly when he lurked around the corner, hearing you sigh but in a pleasant way. He did not dare to fully look, biting your lip but after a very long minute, he could hear your voice: "Just knock next time you want to say hello."

Your laugh was so soft and cute.

He grinned when the window was shut a moment later and the chocolate was gone.

Hongjoong had a talent for forgetting about time when he was working and it was less about the deadline and more so about his passion. He always loved to draw, it had been his escape from a young age and he pushed through it, no matter the concerns of everyone around him. He never wanted to be rich, just do what he loved and make enough to be able to live from it.

In a way he did, his old apartment was small but nice with a lovely view and enough space for two. Looking back, he had been a fool how he thought that his ex would enjoy it, that she liked they took their time and both added to a dream of a larger home. The series he illustrated with a few other artists for a children's magazine was doing well then, he knew it was one of the favorites in consideration of being further produced with another spin-off when it happened, Hongjoong quit.

Just like most, he also worked digitally but when he was in the early stages, he often liked to reach out for old-fashioned paper, getting a few sketches done. It was when his pencil rolled from the table that he pulled the chunky headphones from his ears to pick it up when he heard it for the first time.

It was a quiet sob, the kind where you hated yourself and just wanted to stop but your body was boycotting you, ignoring your quiet pleas for it to stop. Hongjoong had done the same for a while after coming to New York but somehow, yours hit him more than he expected. The way you faced him when he came in, the conversation after.

He should know better than assuming you were a confident person just doing your thing.

His slim figure pressed against the wall next to the open window when he listened to how you cried.

It was strange, when the heart ached, even a city like this could fall in utter silence, making one feel even more alone. He bit his lip, it was hard to listen to it and when he finally convinced himself that checking on you was more important than his fear of interrupting, the small clicking sound to pull his window fully open seemed to be enough to chase you inside like a bird fleeing from busy human steps.

All Hongjoong managed to see was the way how your lights turned off and for a moment, he wondered if you maybe prayed that he did not come down to see, that the weird guy above you just opened his window to let him some refreshing air in at the end of Summer.

He was trying to recall all of those nights after you moved in, where he kept his window open and so did you. What did he hear then? There had been that clicking sound, he could hear it any time he ended up sneaking up to the roof to smoke a cigarette. He never put much thought into it but now, you always seemed to be typing on your keyboard and you were home all the time, just like he was.

When he returned from groceries, your lights were on, and when he lurked outside in the morning, the window open.

In a movie, he probably would have thought more about it and told himself to see if it would happen again. Maybe you just had a bad day. Maybe you were just going through a hard breakup.

Just.

Maybe, if anyone had been more gentle with Hongjoong, he'd not have felt the need to move far away in a desperate attempt of moving on.

No, things would have been different if people would have acted and wasted less time guessing.

"Screw this," he cursed and walked over to the mirror. He was trying to fix his hair but it was a mess so he grabbed a hoodie and put on some summer shorts, cigarettes shoved inside of his pockets, two bottles of soda in each hand.

If you thought he was insane after this, he could live with it, really. He preferred it above having to regret wondering what happened tonight.

Hongjoong took two stairs at once until he was in front of your windows, curtains closed and while it was dark, he could see a small gleam of light, likely from your phone. He took a deep breath before knocking again.

"Hi there, it's me. Again... Uh I am Hongjoong! I know I am probably starting to get annoying, and if you decide to not answer, please just do not call the police.... I was just thinking, maybe you want to have a soda with me? I can't slepe either, I tend to work through the night.

He rambled because this was how he found comfort, he did not need to hear specific words, just little affirmation, a gesture of love. It could be something silly.

When you did not answer, he bit his lip and looked around: "Uh, I will sit down here and smoke one cigarette. If you decide not to come when it's done, I promise I go back up. I'll leave you one bottle there."

He called, placed it down carefully, and moved over to the stairs, taking a few up before sitting down, opening his own drink before lightening the cigarette.

He was exhaling only for the first time when the window opened: "You know, smoking is super unhealthy?"

Your voice did not indicate that you were crying but he could see your eyes still being red and puffy. Hongjoong looked at you like you were amazing just like that.

"You are right, I admit, I only picked the habit up recently again."

He blinked surprised when you grabbed the bottle and sat down by his side, just to take the cigarette away and inhale the smoke. He was blushing, not having expected such a bold move after you cried.

"Guess, we can make it a bad habit just for tonight then," you breathed and used the stairs to open the bottle, drinking it more like it was a party drink rather than ordinary soda, offering the cigarette back.

Hongjoong was in awe, he did not assume you would be so outgoing, although he had no doubt you were brave considering the way you two encountered face to face for the first time. The thought let him grin a little: "Sounds good to me."

His gaze wandered back over the not-that-pretty view: "The sight from the roof is pretty amazing, not sure if you maybe want to have a look another night. I can show you how to get up there."

You laughed, relaxing back: "Why am I not surprised you went up there?"

The man looked innocently: "Well, I have a lot of time to think when I am settling for a design."

The word seemed to gain your interest and you leaned in: "You work at night and that doodle was really cute. Is it something artistic you are doing for a living?" The question was fair and straightforward, leading him to shrug just a little. Most people were disappointed about the answer, somehow it did not seem to be a popular idea when it came to art.

"I work as an illustrator for children's books or that is the preferred one, I also do magazines or commercial designs for such. As for books, I do both, the traditional ones for young kids where the images carry most of the story but I also occasionally take scenes from books for older audiences, you know, mainly those right before young adults where you find little images between the chapters? Mh, I dream to make one exactly in the design I want but for now, I am stuck to work with criteria set by the publishers."

Hongjoong learned to explain what he was doing right away because when it came to illustrations, people often thought about the really expensive artworks connected to infamous titles. You did not really seem to bother with the clichés, instead, your face was so bright and excited, that he was feeling shy.

"That's so cool? I only got into reading because of those kinds of books. I mean, I get it, you are supposed to go wild with your imagination when it comes to reading but I always preferred those pages that told me what to expect but that makes sense, I'm a number person. I like facts."

Numbers, huh.

"This is the very infamous part where I offer to you that if you ever want to see something, knock on my window any time or well, I guess. You have all the right to just walk in through my window. I am awful and my phone is my alarm clock tho," he teased with a more confident grin and you returned it gladly.

"I will keep it in mind, Hongjoong." You stretched.

"It's getting late and you wasted your cigarette, I will take that as a sign to withdraw," you smiled and picked up your bottle, standing. The artist was a little disappointed but it was fair, he knew it had been far after midnight when he heard you crying but now, he was happy to see you relaxed.

"Maybe I will come back to your offer," you hummed and walked down to your window. "Oh, by the way, I am __ and don't be too disappointed, I am a software engineer. That is also why I am home all the time, the bliss of being able to dodge offices but I feel, that you know well."

As you slipped inside, you were about to close the window before lurking out again: "The chocolate was tasty, thank you."

As the window shut, Hongjoong stood there, smiling to himself.

He didn't remember ever having felt as tense in the past when handing in drafts. His old publisher had been a guy in his early 60s and even in the early stages of Hongjoong's 'career', supporting them to test their own ideas within the limits of the work. Something about getting a poor payment but at least, being able to do their thing.

There was yet a small voice of hope, one that told him this piece of paper would not be torn apart because the woman was looking at it far longer than she had at any other of his earlier designs. After hanging out with you, Hongjoong had worked nonstop, a new adrenaline rush that helped him get done with it.

Finally, he exhaled when she leaned back, placing it on the desk: "Finally, something we can work at. I approve of the cats, I expect a more detailed version at the end of the week. The dogs are too ... basic. There is just nothing memorable about them, I want two pairs of options for them. That would be all, Mister Kim."

Hongjoong could live with that! The cats were the story's main protagonists about a pair of cat siblings moving with their owners to a new city and dealing with all of the changes. Yeah, maybe it did not seem like a deep story, just another book to offer comfort to kids moving but the name on both, the writer and label were big... opening doors. What else did he have left than his career and maybe, the nagging desire to show everyone how he could do it?

I would rather be happy tho, and loved.

He only gave her a quick nod as she seemed busy again, slipping out of the office. "Why is this such a pain...." he mumbled and checked his phone. Would it be weird or too early to ask you for your number? Hongjoong hadn't given it to anyone, well except San because he got permission to use the convenience store as a secondary address, should packages fail to be delivered to his door.

Hongjoong could not deny that he was tempted to look you up online but he did not log into any of his accounts since coming to New York. If anything... he did not even tell anyone. He just sold everything, quit his job, and moved. The only person who knew was his older brother, who had been supportive unlike the rest of the family but accepted his wish to remain hidden for some time.

"Honjgoong!"

Hearing his name out in the open made him wince and he blushed when he noticed it was you who called out for him. You were smiling, waving confidently, ignoring gazes. Maybe you really just had a tough day last night. It was so hard to imagine you being somebody who cried a lot.

"Seeing you out in the wild, I am scared," he teased with a grin, walking to your side. You pointed at the heavy bags with groceries, making him realize what you wanted.

"I see how it is, somebody asking me to make the stairs my workout," he chuckled as you looked innocently. "How about, we call it quits then, for good? And in return, you can use the fire escape as often as you want, no worries. You did start to avoid doing that because of me, didn't you?"

He was surprised by the question: "Uh... how do you know about that?"

You laughed and it was sweet, he preferred seeing you happy: "Well, when I signed the contract, the owner told me the guy above likes to take them so he advised me to put something in front of the window but then, nobody ever came."

It was your way to tell him you appreciated he tried to think of your comfort, wasn't it?

"If you are sure, I rather like walking them. I got one of those window locks, I found them on a website and they are really handy. I just prefer it because the dog from the lady on the third floor, he hates me," he admitted.

It seemed to amuse you: "Not surprised, you remind me of a cat or maybe more of a fox? Mh, I love them equally, pick the one you prefer." You rushed ahead while he took the bags, rubbing a hand over his face. Ah, it was a talent of yours, wasn't it? Making him blush.

Thankfully, it wasn't too far from the building and Hongjoong got up all the bags in no time.

"Do you want to come in?" your offer showed a hint of hesitation and Hongjoong was overworrying again. Would it be strange to accept it? Was he too keen on showing how he really would like it?

"Sure, I have some time until nightfall. I have to update some of the designs, they finally accepted two of them," he made sure not to stare, not only to be polite but he already had seen your apartment when he broke in last time.

You opened the fridge and offered him a bottle of cool water, one he gladly accepted. "You said, you do like computer things... Don't mind me, I do not know a whole lot about it. I admit, when I was here last time, I thought you might be a gamer."

His Ex used to watch Twitch streams, something about finding them relaxing.

He regretted the question the instant he asked because of how your expressions slipped.

"Ah, you could say I used to enjoy gaming? It was something I did with a ... former friend." The way you reacted hinted likely it must have been a really good friend, or why else would you look so hurt about saying such a thing` Friendships ended so often, yet this one must have meant a lot to you.

Hongjoong tried not to read too much into your expressions, he did not know you well enough to have a right of doing so, likely just misreading it.

"I am sorry to hear. My friends and family weren't always so keen on my obsession with working for book illustrations either. I would not say they meant to tell me to instead work a proper job but they thought, I should just work for some big company that needs them for ads and such but that is just so soulless, you know?"

His confession was too honest but he felt comfortable with you, sharing it. Maybe it really was because you were strangers and you did not know him or his past, you wouldn't judge him based on that.

He prayed you'd not. You seemed to think about it before saying with the kindest smile: "Following your dreams is important, Hongjoong. I get that, families always mean well but sometimes, we have to figure things out on our own."

He was too nervous to offer a good answer.

"Anyway!" the quick smile was forced but he accepted it. "You said, you know how to get up on the roof? I was thinking, we could do it tonight? It sounds silly but there will be a star shower... I do not think we can see it in a city like this but we can pretend to! I shopped for some snacks, we can make it our own little event."

Hongjoong blinked, eyes big when you invited him: "Oh! Sure! I can make some time, just knock on my window!" He did not have the time based on the deadline... but he would get it done for you! Sounded like time to fight the habit of sleeping in and work during sunlight hours for a change.

"Awesome, I'm excited then!"

There was not too much else to be said it seemed, your thoughts clearly elsewhere, and Hongjoong could only guess it was because of your friend.

The illustrator spent an hour trying to pick an outfit. Tanktop, skinny jeans, some jewelry, he even picked a barret he hadn't worn in ages but it seemed the best way to deal with his hair, even his nails were repainted before he climbed up and prepared a small cozy corner, a blanket, two pillows and a few LED candles.

By the time you knocked on his window, he was almost terrified he made it look too much like a date but then, he looked at you and it seemed, you had a similar mindset. You looked stunning, and the backpack hinted you got more than a few snacks.

"You look amazing," Hongjoong complimented, he liked your style. "Sush, you sure you aren't a model and just failed to tell me?" You brought up the cliche line but it made him laugh: "Well, I tried."

As he joined you, he led you up the stairs which ended abruptly. "If you pull here, there is actually a hidden ladder," he explained and showed it to you. "Very handy, and you can simply pull it up from up there so nobody sees it."

You seemed amazed just how simple it was and carefully climbed up first.

"Oh Hongjoong, this is so pretty!" you gasped, looking at his little setup. The sun vanished just a little while ago and the candles created a nice atmosphere.

"Well, how often does one get invited to star gazing at my age? I thought it would be nice," he explained, chewing his lip as he helped you take off the backpack.

"Well, I guess it is good then I brought an entire picnic!" Indeed, you did but it wasn't just snacks, you prepared the meal obviously yourself and it made him wonder. Did anyone other than his mother ever do this for him?

"This looks delicious!" he clapped his hands together, looking over it.

"Mh, I cannot promise the taste can live up to the looks because it has been a while since I made most of these dishes," you admitted and offered him a pair of chopsticks but he shook his head: "It already smells great, and nothing can betray that."

You seemed to enjoy how expressive Hongjoong was in showing just how much he loved your cooking. His face did not manage to hide it but it was to no surprise, not only because it was tasty but because he had been living off ramyun for the past couple of months due to his cut salary.

"This is so good, I will vote for you as home cook of the year," he mumbled between trying to chew and swallowing.

"Hongjoong, are you sure you ate in the past month or two? You are eating like you were about to starve," you smiled but there was a little concern in your voice as you ate slowly.

The artist carefully placed his chopsticks aside, contemplating if it was okay to be so honest but since he already shared quite a bit with you, it seemed fair.

"To be honest, I came here a little unplanned. I got this really amazing deal or it sounded like that but the publisher CEO lady has rejected all of my designs of the past few months and they cut my salary in half every time. I get around with some savings but food wasn't on top of my priority list."

Now you did seem concerned and sighed: "You know what? She is stupid! I looked up your work and it's so cute? I mean it! I know nothing about that business branch but I like it, they are cute and as a kid, I'd have loved them but also... I used to share a place with somebody and I have a hard time getting rid of the habit of cooking more than I need. How about you come over here and then, and pick up the rest? I hate to throw away so much."

Did you look him up? Oh, that was unexpected. Hongjoong was just looking at you in awe and you seemed a little confused by it.

"You do not have to, of course!" It seemed you both were good at misreading.

He hurried to wave his hands: "Oh no! I'd love that! I just... was a little shy when you looked it up. I appreciate it. If you ever need a doodle or like ... anything drawn, let me know. I like doing it for people."

As he looked at you somehow, it felt like you two were the same. Something happened which brought you here, leaving behind a very different life but now that you sat in front of him like that, Hongjoong was so grateful and he tried to place the meaning of his heart beating just a little too enthusiastically right now.

"You know, when I was in high school, I was befriended with this really amazing guy, Hwa. He moved away with his parents before graduation but after exams, when we both knew we screwed up really badly. He would drag me up to the rooftop of our school and play silly songs from the early 2000s we danced to. I know that sounds insane but how about... we do that?"

Hongjoong didn't think about Seonghwa in a long time. He tried to find him online a few years ago but it seemed the older did not think too much about social media either.

"You want to dance?" you chuckled and checked your phone: "Well, I'd say we have another hour until the promised star shower so let's do it. You will have to provide the music tho, I forgot to close my Spotify on my computer."

Hongjoong grinned: "No worries, I got us."

It was funny but he remembered the song and there was an entire playlist dedicated to the vibe he wanted to go for. Relaxed and soft, a little silly but not embarrassing. He ensured the volume wouldn't cause too much attention but you did not seem to care at all.

When the melody and the lyrics began you just let go. Hongjoong swallowed as he watched you and for the first time in a long time, suddenly he was feeling... excited? It was different from a grand job offer or moving, it was more like that telling himself life would go on actually was real. That good things still would happen if he just kept on going.

"What are you waiting for? Don't tell me you are getting shy now," you moved closer to him, taking his hands without hesitation before starting to dance together. The shuffle was doing a good job because it went from energetic, leading to the two of you just silly jumping and vibing to something a little slower and before he knew it, his arms were curled around your figure and you rested your head against his shoulder as you moved with the music.

"This is nice," you whispered, your gaze seemed to be far off in the distance. "I forgot how nice it can be just like that." You sighed deeply without saying anything else but Hongjoong quietly agreed as his hug tightened a little. "It really is."

It was only when your phone started to ring and you withdrew that he was a little disappointed. "Okay, time for the stars!" you smiled, looking around before glancing back at the blanket. "Let's do it like we are in the countryside!"

Without hesitation, you grabbed a pillow and laid down, looking up to the sky which was just dark, the light of electricity stealing the beauty of the night. Hongjoong laid down next to you, looking up.

"Isn't this the most beautiful night sky you have ever seen?" you gasped, pointing towards nothing: "There they are! Okay, time to make your wish but remember, you can't tell anyone!"

You were so bright and outgoing, Hongjoong envied you but also quietly was thankful how you tickled this out of him again. Even before his breakup, he had been so busy struggling with work and expectations, when did he act so carefree for the last time?

"Working on the wish," he whispered and closed his eyes.

His wish for life never changed: be happy, together with people who truly loved and cherished him and he'd do the same for them.

He winced when he felt your cool hand reaching out, squeezing him and his head turned around, the beret slipped from his hair as your gazes locked. There was another moment of hesitation but you rolled onto your side, your eyes saying what words did not manage but they did not need to as you slowly closed them. Hongjoong's hand was placed on your cheek and you met in the middle into a tender kiss.

It was nothing breathtaking like in the movies, much more a kiss between students who never kissed before but yet, were so lost in the moment that they didn't worry. It only lasted for a little before your lips parted: "Guess, my wish already came true just now."

Hongjoong blushed, he wanted to say more but there was a small quacking sound. The two of you sat up immediately.

"Did you hear that?" you whispered. Hongjoong nodded: "Nobody ever comes up here and I come here almost every day since I moved in." You exchanged a few gazes before carefully standing up, following him closely, hiding behind the chimney.

Suddenly, a large figure dressed all in black jumped up like a ninja in a movie. You gasped but Hongjoong just blinked.

"Wooyoung?!"

"Wooyoung?"

"Wooyoung!"

San's figure showed up right behind his best friend, who was tugging on his jacket, clearly catching his breath. "I told you not to do this!" The younger man was just grinning: "But I had to make sure I left an impression!"

You chuckled as Hongjoong pointed to you that it was okay.

"I take it those are your friends?"

The word made Hongjoong blink. He saw these two idiots almost on a daily base now, he talked to them and while he never shared any personal details, they never treated him like other customers or a stranger.

He really did a great job on distancing, didn't he? Considering he claimed to have nobody but just made friends without realizing it.

"Something like that," Hongjoong said with a quick smile but Wooyoung already pulled him closer, pressing his cheek against his. "Sh, he is just shy! We are the best buddies!"

Hongjoong yelped and now was sparring with Wooyoung while San rubbed a hand over the back of his neck: "Sorry, we didn't mean to interrupt your date. Wooyoung has a hard time keeping his curiosity in check."

You hummed, knowing Hongjoong didn't hear it. Maybe it was for the better.

"That's okay. Actually, that's what I like about him. He's chaotic, just like me."

You clasped your hands together, cheering. "So Wooyoung! We got some food left, are you hungry?"

The younger stopped, grinning: "Always!"

Hongjoong groaned when he was woken up by loud noises coming from the staircase. He rolled onto his side, face lit up by his phone screen. It wasn't even seven but for some reason, it seemed neighbors decided to make a fuss. There was screaming, he was sure about that.

He grabbed a pair of sneakers, not caring too much about all else and decided to have a look because it seemed a little too loud considering you and an elderly woman lived the floor underneath.

The moment he recognized your voice, Hongjoong stopped all logical thinking, he took two stairs at once to face a very upstyled woman around his age. Expensive brands and overdone makeup, there was an envelope open, torn paper on the ground, and you were all in tears.

"What's going on?!" Hongjoong rushed to your side but you barely seemed to recognize him.

"How did you even find out where I live?! I won't sign this just go!" you yelled and it seemed to make the woman just more angry.

"___, stop being so stubborn! Just sign the damn rights! You are not part of the team anymore, you have no use for the brand name! Just sign it and we never have to meet again!"

By now, more neighbors had come and the least Hongjoong wanted for you was to deal with the police.

"Hey, get in. I will take care of it," he whispered to you, both of his hands on your cheeks to force you to look at him through teary eyes. It was when you finally realized you weren't alone, you swallowed hard, nodded but carefully withdrew. When the woman tried to get in, Hongjoong pushed her back.

"If you do not leave now, we will call the police! If you have any needs, use a lawyer!" he remembered how his mother watched those shows when he was little, they always just yelled about lawyers.

"Who are you? Loverboy? God, how can one person fall so low? Living in this shithole and now this?" she hissed, spitting on the ground before leaving. Hongjoong waited to ensure she'd not get back up before he slipped inside, closing your door.

You had curled up on your bed and he was a little overwhelmed but it did not matter. Hongjoong called out your name gently as he sat down on the edge of the bed, wanting to make sure you knew he was there, maybe his way of asking for permission.

When you did not move, he curled his arms around you to pull you tight like back on the rooftop, hand gently patting over your back. He wasn't going to tell you it would be okay or ask you to stop crying because he knew that sometimes, mind or body did not want to, couldn't.

All one needed sometimes, was a hug and somebody there with you.

It was hard to say just how much time passed when you turned around slowly. Hongjoong loosened the hug a little without moving back and you looked at him.

"You do not have to tell me anything," he assured in his soft voice but you shook your head slowly. "I want to... it just... it's embarrassing."

This time, it was he who shook his head: "Nothing that makes you feel sad ever is embarrassing, ___. Your feelings matter, you know?"

He was relieved to see it brought a little smile to your lips.

"You know, that also is true for you. If you are sad... it's okay. I understand it. Please don't feel like you have to hide it."

So you did look right through him after all: "You got me there... It is hard to admit weakness... I guess, for me at least. I was hurt by the people I cared for the most. Now, it is hard, like how to let them in again, how to trust?"

Your fingers gently reached out, brushing over his cheeks and he held still like if he moved, you might vanish into thin air.

"I get that," you admitted. "You see, that woman used to be my best friend since middle school. A few years ago, we started to stream together for fun. I made good money with my job, so I bought the equipment and I really was okay playing more of a background role. We worked on it together but she was the star, I didn't mind she also streamed a lot without me but then, numbers rose and there was a sponsorship she did not tell me about. One day, I got home from my office, and all the equipment was gone, together with my best friend. I was locked out of the accounts, the savings I kept at home for emergencies were stolen, and well. She spread some nasty rumors about how I was jealous and things got ugly... So I moved here. It is hard, your best friend is usually the person you rely on for comfort when something awful happens but now, there was nobody and I am stupid, the type of person that fully believes in a friendship."

It was sad, to think how money always ruined everything, love and friendship. Hongjoong watched you as you spoke, going more into the details and he made sure to listen well, to show you that he didn't only do it because you two kissed or because of you crying. He really cared about you and wanted to understand you better so he did not have to fear again, that imagine of you alone on the fire escape.

"There is nothing awkward or embarrassing about your feelings. You trusted and lost her. You tried your best to start over, leave it behind but she cannot let it be for selfish reasons," Hongjoong concluded and you finally relaxed.

"Thank you for listening.... that really helped," you whispered. "I... if you ever want to..."

Hongjoong wondered for a moment. Did he want to talk about it?

Yes, but...

"Honestly, I am not sure if I am really ready yet to talk about it but one day... I will," he promised and placed a gentle kiss on top of your head.

"How about I make you some tea?" he offered with a smile as you looked at him, you nodded and you two slowly sat up. Hongjoong was very determined to wrap you properly in a blanket burrito, ruffling your hair gently before moving over to your kitchen. He could feel your eyes on him as he moved but he did not mind it.

A few minutes later, he handed you a cup of yasmin tea and you hugged it carefully, sipping on it.

"You make a very cute blanket cat," he teased, hoping to cheer you up. "Maybe one day, you will let me draw you like that." And finally, there it was, your beautiful laugh. "I will think about it."

Hongjoong sat down by your side, he turned on the TV and you relaxed against him as you watched a random show just to get your mind off and sipped your tea. It wasn't until there was a more gentle knock on the door and the familiar voice of the elderly lady.

"I will get it," he offered and rushed over. She seemed a little concerned: "My, so much noise in the early morning. Such an unpleasant woman. I wanted to see if everything is alright but I also noted, that your door is wide open Mister Kim."

His cheeks flushed as he realized, he rushed out earlier without bringing his key or closing it. "OH! Yes, thank you so much," he bowed and it made her chuckle: "You are very welcome. Fear not, Mister Corner on the second floor left his dog outside, I have no doubt nobody will dare to make the way upstairs today."

As she wiggled away, Hongjoong turned around but you smiled. "It is okay, I am feeling better. Thank you for looking out for me. I will see you later?"

He did not want to go but it likely was a good idea to give you some space. "Count on it."

As much as he hated it, he needed to put some time into work if he intended to finish everything within the deadline but now that Hongjoong had a reason to work extra hard, he was doing it no problem and within a few hours, he finished a few sketches. Those would do for angry CEO and he could dedicate his evening toward you.

He was taking his phone from his charger when he noticed a small notification. Hongjoong turned off such with the exception of receiving one when somebody new followed him. To his surprise, the name of his latest follower was 'Hwastar' and there was only one person who would use something like that.

It took him a few minutes to remember his password, he ignored all other messages other than the one of the follow and he followed back. Within a few minutes, a message popped up. It really was Seonghwa and to Hongjoong's surprise, the man was in New York, asking to meet.

When Hongjoong knocked on your door and you did not answer, he guessed you were asleep and he decided to go for it. Seonghwa had picked a cute coffee shop, something that suited him. While he looked the same, he was yet a whole new man. Tall, well-built and stylish, the long hair suited him well but the smile was as gentle as when they saw each other for the last time. "Joong! It's been too long!"

There was a quick hug before they sat down, he was sipping on a drink. "You look good, Joongie!" Hongjoong glanced down, he barely could say he wore anything unique but then, he just really had gotten used to his style. "Not like you who seems to go to fashion week."

Seonghwa blushed a little before waving his hand: "Nah, I work for a small publisher." Hongjoong wasn't surprised to hear it. Seonghwa always loved to read and was great with all kinds of people "That's great! I am glad it worked out for you."

His old friend smiled before to the younger's surprise, he pulled out one of the children's books Hongjoong worked on as part of a team.

"I only recently moved to New York because we moved our office here. When I walked through some bookstores, I came across this one. I am glad to see you still do art... When I went home last time, my mom said you left and nobody really knew where you went."

So he did hear about it, huh?

"Breakups can be ugly, I guess I wanted to start over." Hongjoong finally said what he had not to anyone until now. It was hard to say it out loud because that way, there was no chance to deny it, to hide the truth about the why, and how it had come to this. Maybe because there was this old trust he had for Hwa that made him say it out loud now but it was impossible to hide the bitterness in his voice.

Seonghwa had an understanding, sad smile on his lips: "I know you loved her. You two already dated back then... but Hongjoong... I am also proud you are moving on, and didn't stop."

It really was difficult to let negative emotions take over when Seonghwa looked at him like that. He pulled out his business card: "I know you are currently working with a bigger name but we actually finally expanded to books that require some illustrations and my boss would love to meet you. Why don't you think about it? The offer is there, no expiration, whenever you want."

Hongjoong accepted it with surprise, looking at the cursive font he was sure was inspired by his friend's handwriting.

How did things finally fall in line? Was it because he was ready to let them?

Hongjoong looked up and smiled: "I will definitely call."

When he came back, it had gotten dark. As Hongjoong took the fire escape up, your window was wide open and you sat on the stairs, the wind playing with your hair and you seemed lost in thoughts but the moment you saw him, the way you smiled, he knew.

His heart finally exhaled, it held its breath for so long, scared of what would happen if it let go of all that was and no longer would be.

Now it knew it was okay. Breathing would hurt for a little while but eventually, the beat would fall back in line as it should. Painful memories remained but it would keep beating.

The wisdom wasn't wrong, life went on.

Hongjoong smiled back as you made space for him and he got comfortable, his gaze wandering over the cityscape of New York or the bit you managed to get from here.

"it really is ugly, isn't it? I mean, all we get to see are the lower side of those giant ass buildings;" you joked and he laughed, shaking his head: "No, we do not but we have the rooftop. Not that I mind this."

He closed his eyes: "It really is a great escape, I would say, we need those stairs everywhere in the world."

You hummed: "I agree. Just that we need little stickers on the windows, one that tells us that if the alarm won't go off and the windows open, just throw a shoe or something."

Hongjoong smiled innocently at you: "But how do I get my shoe back then?"

You grinned: "Well, by knocking, of course. Then, I have an excuse to invite you in."

You did not need an excuse, he gladly would come and visit you. As you looked at each other, a certain silence spread, and Hongjoong played with one of his bracelets.

"I got my heart broken very badly," he admitted. "I guess, I was blind? Maybe I just was so in a habit of having it that way, that I did not think it could change? It hurt a lot and I ran like a coward but now, maybe this is just how I am. Sometimes, I do stupid things that turn out to be good but I am also blind like needing forever to realize how I made friends just by being myself or that I can feel again."

As he looked at you, turning around, you suddenly hugged him tightly. "It is okay, you do not have to tell me everything, ever or just take your time. I will be here, whenever you are ready," you whispered and Hongjoong was surprised.

Argh, he hated how tears started to dwell up at the corners of his eyes. This was all he wanted for so long but now, here you were and you were so much more than comfort, the promise of a future where his heart was beating not only to live but love. Again.

"I really like you," he admitted, voice soft and husky. "I like you too," you repeated and for a moment, you just held each other.

Hongjoong looked at you before he swallowed: "I'd like to see where it goes... but I might... need a bit of time before I am ready to go all ..."

You placed an index finger on his lips and smiled: "It's okay. We have all the time in the world. Summer is not over yet, many nights on the rooftops. Then, when autumn comes, we go chase leaves in Central Park, and in Winter, we can wear big fluffy coats and share a scarf. Then Spring, we plant flowers on the rooftop, and when Summer comes again. We will be here, together. Close or as friends, I will be here, count on it."

You really were so dreamy, it made sense now why your room looked the way it did.

And he loved how you were bold and silly and this.

"I cannot promise not to be spontaneous, and I might would like us to be more than friends," he admitted and you smirked: "I love random and wild."

You squeezed his hand and Hongjoong was looking forward to all seasons. In this lonely city full of people but now he had friends, old and new but most of all, you.

As you leaned in to kiss him, your alarm was going off. Hongjoong groaned but you tugged on his jacket.

"Sh, you can throw shampoo at it later," you promised and Hongjoong laughed.

"This alarm, it drives me insane," he whispered, your lips so close.

"So do you."

In the best way possible.

[writingsofwesteros]

Omg I just saw ur recent post with reader being a small folk coming to Aegon’s aid and he takes a liking to them — I would absolutely LOVE if you wrote that!

AN: Hi, I hope you like it x

Aegon Targaryen, newly crowned King, sat upon the Iron Throne. The lackeys he surrounded himself with settled at the base; opposite his imposing grandsire. Aegon fought to keep his composure; the desire to be loved by the small folk was overwhelming at times and he struggled to reign himself in, never mind someone else doing such a thing. Those violet eyes of his scanned the growing crowd of small folk gathering before him. Distracted, Aegon began to play with his ringed fingers as the low chatter moved around him. It was another open audience; something Otto had suggested as another way of the people seeing him as their King. Not that Aegon paid much attention when his grandsire spoke; he would leave that to his mother.

Aegon listened intently as petitioners approached one by one, their voices trembling with a mixture of reverence and desperation. He fought to concentrate on the petitions in front of him but he was slowly giving Otto the power of handling such details. His fingers brushed up and down one particular sword; as if tempting fate. The King was completely lost in thought now; you could realise that as you gracefully stood beside your brother. You fought against reaching for his hand as the nervousness you felt threatened to take over you. A shot of fear moved over your spine as the line you stood in began to move; closing in on the King before you.

“Jonathon, your grace..” The sound of your brother introducing himself had you realising you had stared at the pretty King for too long. From the look in Jon’s eyes; he had noticed your staring too. The thought alone had a soft blush coming over your cheeks. The legendary beauty of the Targaryens up close was blinding. Aegon leaned forward; eyes following as you gracefully moved to a stop before him. “And what do you need?” Thankfully, your brother was not one to get so nervous, not like yourself. “Thank you..I am sure your grace is aware of the scarcity of resources..” He began whilst you began to play with your fingers behind your back.

The words your brother spoke seemed far away as your eyes only kept moving towards the young King. It did not help that it seemed Aegon’s bright eyes came your way more than they should. If you had paid more attention; you would have realised your brother noticed this too. A soft frown came over his face as he fought to keep Aegon’s attention on his words. “And…what exactly do you need?” Aegon repeated his question but thankfully you noticed there was no boredom in his tone like many before you had experienced. “Work, your grace and payment that we can live on.” A soft gulp escaped you as your brother’s remarks slowly came to a close and now it was all in the King’s hands.

“Work?” Aegon hummed; eyes sparkling in interest that had your brother stepping closer to you. “And what do you do?” You could not stop your eyes from widening; your pretty reaction only had Aegon leaning forward once more. The chuckles of his boys; the ones you always saw close to him echoed in the throne room.

“A nurse, your grace..” The words fell from your lips without thought but your tone was soft and near breathless. “A nurse?” Aegon hummed as his eyes not so subtly moved up and down your body. “I do believe we have such an opening here.” A flash of confusion came over you and in the corner of your eye; your brother’s lips parted to speak.

“Here..your grace?” Aegon only nodded at your question as he fought off the smirk threatening to tug on his lips. “My King..” The deep voice of the hand of the King himself broke the connection, much to the King’s annoyance as it flashed over his face. Aegon completely ignored Otto, which was becoming more and more evident as the audiences continued. “I am sure we would not turn away help from a nurse, would we, my Lord Hand? Especially in these trying times?” Otto could only bow his head at his grandson’s words. It seemed the puppet King he envisioned was falling flat. “Do you accept a role at court for your..specialities?” The way he near whispered that word had a shiver down your spine.

Your brother stepped closer; worry radiating off him but you knew there was only one answer. Money was needed and to deny the King - no, you did not want to see the consequences of such things. “Of course, my King.” The slow smirk tugged on Aegon’s face as he slowly leaned back into the throne whilst your brother stepped closer; nearly in front of you as a near barrier. Aegon’s eyes trailed over him as amusement came across him once more. “Thank you, my King.” Your brother finally whispered out. It had been a tense moment and you had not known what words your brother would choose. Thankfully, it seemed he still had his brain, you thought to yourself whilst gracefully bowing your head.

Even as your eyes stayed locked with his own; your brother’s arm was soon linked with yours and not so gently tugged you away. “Brother..” You softly gasped as thankfully the crowd seemed to take your place in the line. The eyes of the King stayed on you until the doors heavily fell shut but your brother still kept his hold on you. “Is something wrong?” You cautiously looked over your shoulder whilst the interaction with the King moved through your mind again and again. “Wrong?” He scoffed before quieting his voice at the sight of the King’s guard. “It seemed the King was a little..too interested in you, sweet sister.” He slowly moved you both towards a more secluded spot. “You are mistaken.” This time you were the one who scoffed; the idea of the King sparing more than a moment of interest like the many other small folk before you was ludicrous. “We shall try and find a way out of this new job of yours.” You could only shake your head at his words, “No..we need this, brother. You know we do.” The silence only stretched between them as a soft, sad smile tugged on your lips. “Our parents would not want this life for us.” Gently, you reached for his hand and he could only bow his head at your words in defeat. “I know..we will have to be careful.” He leaned closer and pressed a soft, sweet kiss to your forehead.

[schemmentigfs]

Future Milf, part one.

paring: melissa schemmenti x fem reader.

summary: what was supposed to be a normal monday morning at Abbott, ends up being a chaotic one after you lend Melissa one especific t-shirt.

warnings: sexual themes? The rest is just pure crack.

author notes: I got this idea after listening to M.I.L.F $ by Fergie? Anyways, it's finally here, I'm must say that I'm pretty proud of this one. Stay tuned for part two! And yes, I watched heartstrooper and thought the drum scene was cute, so I added here.

English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes.

When you arrived at Abbott in that morning, one curious feeling of both happiness and anxiety coursed through your body. And even though you found it completely strange, you decided to ignore it.

“Good morning, Y/n!” Janine said waving to you in the hallway. “How was your weekend?”

You smiled noticing her presence, as much as everyone else always said that Janine's way of acting was a bit annoying. The other teachers had to addmit that she was a good person who was always willing to help when needed.

“Morning!” you replied, unlocking the door to your classroom, ready to start another day at school. “It was good! On Saturday, I went to my parents to visit them for a family dinner. And on Sunday I spent the afternoon at Melissa's place.” You let out a passionate sigh remembering the day in the company of your favorite redhead.

It was a lovely afternoon, you cooked together, talked about different things and at the end, you watched a movie together, with Mel's hands gently stroking your hair while you were lying on her lap. “Hon, you are so cute,” she whispered softly, leaving her famous bravado aside, and showing her sweet and loving side instead.

To be honest, you loved these moments with the older woman, it made you feel protected, relaxed and loved. Something you hadn't felt in a long time. Melissa Schemmenti was your safe place. That same tough second grade teacher who took almost three months to have a friendly conversation with you was now one of your best friends. Yeah, fate was something that was really fucking powerful.

After listening to your last words, Janine let a huge smile escape her lips, before she started to celebrate. “I knew it! I knew it!” The youngest said, jumping up and down excitedly.

“Knew what?” you questioned with a confused expression.

“It was a date, wasn't it?” she asked with hope in her eyes.

“No!”

“Wait what? I thought you and Melissa were dating. Guess I was wrong. Again.” The second grade teacher revealed, completely disappointed looking at you.

After seeing your friend's reaction, you widen your eyes in shock. Was she really serious?

“Janine, why did you think we were dating?”

“It’s kind of obvious, she calls you by cute Italian nicknames, brings you coffee every morning. Share her lunch with you, let you hug her, and she always laughs at your jokes! You two are practically married in the eyes of everyone who works here at Abbott!” She talked non-stop.

Janine could only be out of her mind, a relationship between you and Melissa was impossible to happen. You were co-workers for god's sake, and also the redhead was known for being completely closed off when it came to relationships. Since her divorce with Joe was a traumatic experience.

Deep down, you were completely in love with Melissa. But tried to suppresses your feelings, knowing it would never be reciprocated. After all, what would a beautiful woman like her want with someone like you?

It was painful, but you couldn't do anything about it.

Turning your head to the sides to make sure there was no one else in the hallway, you started talking. “What I have with Melissa is just a normal friendship between two women. Something platonic and not romantic! Okay?”

“But—” she insisted.

“Let's just forget about this.” You sighed and Janine finally gave up, nodding and giving you a sad smile saying goodbye and returning to her classroom.

“You can’t keep lying to yourself.” Mr Johnson’s voice caught your attention.

“Huh?”

“You like Melissa, and you know that,” the janitor says as he sweeps the floor, eliminating any sign of dirt. “You may not have noticed yet, but she likes you too. Act while you have the chance, otherwise you will regret it if she finds someone else.” He said, before leaving.

Now alone in the hallway, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, thinking about his words and Janine's. Were they right? No. They were insane.

“Why did everyone suddenly decide to give their opinion on my love life?” You grumbled, looking at the watch on your wrist. There were twenty minutes until the kids arrived, so you decided to stop by the staff room for some coffee and also to refresh your mind.

—

When you entered the teachers' lounge, you saw a curious scene. Jacob was completely nervous while Melissa was furious. Gregory and Barbara were there watching everything and trying to calm her down but without success.

“JACOB!” the redhead shouted angrily pointing to her pink sweater and looking at the young boy with a deadly glare. “LOOK WHAT YOU DID!”

“I'm sorry! It wasn't my intention, I ended up getting distracted and—” the history teacher stuttered nervously.

“JUST—” She almost started to argue again but stopped when she felt Barb's gaze and yours on her. “be more careful next time, we don’t want any accidents like this happening again,”

Jacob nodded, apologizing once more, returning to sit on the small sofa, next to Gregory. Focusing on the news that played on Channel 6.

“Dear, are you okay?” Barb asked worriedly, putting a hand on her best friend's shoulder.

“Yeah, the only problem is that I don’t have any spare clothes to wear.” Melissa responds.

Seeing the older woman's frustration, you decided to quickly help her, knowing that she was starting to get uncomfortable with her favorite sweater's situation.

“Don't worry, I can lend you one. I always keep one in case something like this happens.” You replied with a small smile.

Melissa sighed in relief, it was as if a miracle had fallen from the earth when she needed it most.

“Thanks, Stellina. You are an angel.”

You blush at the nickname she gives you. Maybe Janine wasn't so wrong. Just maybe.

“Let’s go.” you pulled her by the arm heading to your classroom.

—

You guided Melissa to sit in one of the chairs and closed the door, heading towards your drawer looking for the shirt. It took a long time to find it, as everything was slightly messed up. The redhead rolled her eyes, pretending to be impatient.

“Apparently it looks like youse need to learn how organize your things better.” The older woman mocks you.

“Shut up, Schemmenti. I’m trying to help ya,” after a lot of effort, you finally found it, “here, it’s a little wrinkled but I think it should be fine for you to use for the rest of the day,”

Melissa let out a soft smile, taking the shirt you handed her. “Thanks again for helping me. I appreciate this.”

“No problem, I’ll always give you a hand whenever you need it,” you replied with a shrug.

In the three years that you had known each other, She had done so many things for you. So it was only fair that you pay her back, right?

“Uh, I’ll turn around now so you can have more privacy to change,” you said and she nodded, giving you a thumbs up.

You turned around, facing the classroom door, letting out a muffled laugh when she mumbled, “Thank God I won't have soup on my body anymore.”

Everything was going normally, until you heard something else that made your heartbeat increase with each passing second.

“Future Milf, hm?” Melissa said inspecting the shirt, reading the print with a confused expression. “It’s probably a term that those of you who are young use. I liked it.”

Hearing that made you freeze, it was as if the whole world had stopped at that moment. It couldn't be. No. It could only be a completely ridiculous nightmare or dream of yours. She was a natural joker, always picking on you with some prank or something else. She was joking, right?

Fuck, had you really given her that shirt by accident? Oh shit, you were so screwed. The only good thing about this situation was that she didn't know what the word milf meant.

If she knew, you'd probably be dead by now.

Melissa snapped her fingers, a sign that you could turn around again. The action brought you back to reality, but you were too embarrassed to look at your friend in the eyes again.

“What do you think?” she asked, adjusting the t-shirt on her body, waiting for your answer anxiously. Melissa wouldn't never admit it, but your opinion was something very important to her.

You kept quiet, nervous about what had just happened. It felt like a nightmare, for some reason. After school, you would probably go to the supermarket to buy a giant bottle of wine to drink while watching some horrible Netflix TV show trying to forget all of this.

When you focused your gaze on her figure, your mouth opened into a big 'o'. She looked stunning, with her signature black leather pants, boots and well.. that t-shirt had made Melissa look so hot, that you couldn't look at anything else in the room. It definitely suited her.

“Y/n? What do you think?” She repeats.

“You look amazing, Lissa,” you say playing with the rings in your fingers. A common habit that occurred when anxiety took over.

Melissa, who was always perceptive, studied you carefully. “Hon, are you alright?” she asked with a bit of concern in her tone.

“Yeah, I'm fine, just was thinking about...” you stop trying to think of an excuse to explain why you were distracted, “a funny thing Janine told me earlier, that's it.”

“What would it be?” She asks.

“I—It's a very stupid thing, I mean you know how she is,” you let out a nervous laugh, “I think you better ask her at lunch, Mel.”

The redhead raises her eyebrows, a little suspicious. Just as Melissa was about to speak, the voices of the children in the hallway interrupted her, making you two realize how much time had passed.

“Oh! Our students.”

“Yeah, they arrived,” Melissa says, “Well, I think I have to go now, your little devils will be here at any moment. See ya at lunch?”

“Of course, and Mel?”

“What, hon?”

“You look beautiful.” It accidentally slips out of your mouth, leaving you pale and afraid of her reaction. Of course, you had already said that Melissa was beautiful several times, but this time something different was in the air.

You didn't notice the way her cheeks flushed.

“Thanks gorgeous,” the eldest grins and wink at you. Was she flirting?

When Melissa was no longer there, you covered your face with your hands to stifle a scream that threatened to escape your throat. What was supposed to be a calm Monday, turned into a chaotic one due to a slight mistake of yours.

—

Ava was passing in the hallway when she saw Melissa walking calmly to her classroom. The principal's eyes widened when she saw the redhead wearing a t-shirt with the words “Future Milf” printed on it.

“Why the hell is she wearing that? That's not something Schemmenti would wear. Especially at school grounds.” she whispered to herself.

By coincidence, Gregory was also in the hallway and was surprised by her pulling him by his coat.

“Huh?” the man said, confused. “Ava? What are you doing?”

“Relax handsome, I just need you to answer something,” she said, looking at him,“do you know why Melissa is wearing that thing? the woman pointed to the teacher.

“Y/n lent it to her after Jacob accidentally spilled food on her sweater earlier,” he explained. “Why?”

“Did you saw the damn print on it?” Ava asked, rolling her eyes and Gregory shook his head with a puzzled expression.

“Then wait and see at lunchtime. I'm telling ya, this is going to be more fun than any episode of The Kardashians!” she laughed looking towards one of the cameras.

—

Meanwhile, you tried to focus on teaching your students. But it was practically impossible. Every time you closed your eyes or tried to explain something. Your mind thought of Melissa wearing the damn shirt.

“Ms. Y/n? Are you feeling alright?” Leah, one of your students asked, snapping you out of your trance.

“Yes, sweetheart. Don't need to worry about me.” you replied with a calm voice. She smiled and returned to pay attention to her activity.

The hours passed quickly after that, much to your dismay. It was good on the one hand: in a while you would be home soon. But the bad thing was that you would have to lunch next to Melissa Ann Schemmenti wearing that fucking milf shirt of yours.

You thought of some solutions to avoid her presence, but gave up. Knowing it wasn't fair to do so. Defeated, you went to the staff room.

—

Barbara was looking for the redhead you wanted to avoid at that moment. The eldest knocked on Melissa's classroom door, waiting to be welcomed by the teacher herself or her aide, Ashely. But that didn't happen.

Determined, she decided to enter anyway, raising her brows when she saw a curious scene.

Her best friend was pacing the room while mumbling something. “Y/n, do you want to go on a date with me? We could go to a restaurant and—” Melissa said to herself, “No, too formal that doesn’t suit me. And I would prefer a date at home, where we could...”

The brunette now leaning against the wall let out a soft chuckle that scared the redhead.

“Jesus Christ!” Melissa gasped with her hand on her chest. The kindergarten teacher rolled her eyes, “Barb, you scared me to death.”

“Haven’t you asked her out yet?” her friend got straight to the point, “Oh Lord, you've already been faster than that. Tell me sweetheart, what's stopping you?”

The green-eyed woman looked away, feeling a little embarrassed, “I'm just scared. Y/n is only in her twenties, she has her whole life ahead of her and I'm already at a certain age. What will she want with me?”

Barb saw how her voice immediately sounded small and trembling, falling in love was a delicate thing in Melissa Schemmenti's life, her marriage was a totally traumatic experience. And after that, she completely closed herself off, thinking that being in a relationship wasn't something for her. That she simply didn't deserve to be loved.

But that started to change when you arrived in her life. It took Melissa a while to figure out the many confusing feelings she had for you. After several sleepless nights, questioning the butterflies in her stomach that always appeared when you were around, she understood that it was love.

But this realization scared her.

“I know it may seem scary but you have to try. Besides, don't you realize? That girl is crazy about you, just like you are about her,” Barb says trying to calm her, “Believe me, this time you will discover that love doesn't hurt.”

Her words made the redhead remember the moment she realized she was in love with you.

[...]

It was New Year's Eve and Melissa was speeding the night at your house. That same afternoon, she had attended lunch with her family and as much as she loved how festive the other Schemmentis were, but it seemed like something was missing from that environment, and that was you. And this feeling of longing made her run to your place immediately.

Now she was in your bedroom trying to practice on your drum kit, while you were laying down on an improvised pillow fort that both of you built together a couple of days ago. Honestly, playing the drums wasn't something Melissa knew how to do, so she played in a completely clumsy way without being able to find a certain rhythm.

“Schemmenti, you're so fucking terrible at this,” you joked. “It's so easy to learn.”

Pretending to be irritated by your words, the redhead reached for a pillow and threw it in your direction. Prepared to start a pillow fight if challenged.

“Hey!” you grumbled, raising your hands in the air in redemption. “Mel, I’m kidding!”

“Then show me instead of standing there, idiot.”

You slowly approached, sitting next to her on the small bench. “Alright, let me teach you a little.”

You held Melissa's hands in yours, first teaching her how to properly hold the drumsticks. “Hold them tight. And don’t let them slip out of your hands,” you whispered. “Good job, Mel,” you praised her, feeling her hold the drumsticks tighter. She blushed hearing that.

While you were extremely focused, showing her how to play the instrument. Her green eyes watched you with love and adoration, at that moment, she realized how lucky she was to have you by her side.

Her gaze fell to your lips and Melissa wondered if they were as soft as they appeared to be. She also wondered what it would be like to wake up every day next to you, with her arms wrapped around your small waist and with her placing small kisses into your hair. Or what it would be like to kiss and touch your whole body listening to your soft coos while she showed how much she loved you.

She bites her lips with all of those images in her mind.

After hearing the sounds of fireworks, you turn away from the older woman and open your bedroom window and climb up to a small outcropping of the roof. While Melissa watches you curiously, still sitting in front of the drums. "What are you doing? I wouldn’t want you to have an accident in the middle of the New Year.”

“I’m not going to have an accident,” you rolled your eyes, “I just want to see the fireworks!”

Melissa shook her head, finding your excitement adorable, deciding to join you. Carefully sitting by your side, she rested her head on your shoulder and closed her eyes, wanting to enjoy this moment with you forever.

“You know...I kind of missed you at my family's lunch today,” the redhead admitted in a shy tone, feeling her cheeks burn.

That was a surprise for both of you, since you knew that she wasn't very used to physical touches or showing her vulnerable side.

Noticing her nervousness, you said something that made Melissa feel more relaxed again,“I missed you too. Staying with you is so much more fun than being here alone.”

She hummed and snuggled into you even more, making a smile escape your lips. The two of you enjoyed the comfortable silence that settled in. Wishing more good moments like this would happen.

Returning from her memory, Melissa stood up and ignored Barbara's malicious look and headed towards the door ready to go to lunch.

—

You were already in the teachers' lounge, and every time you heard a step, you felt your heart stop. The plan to try to avoid Melissa was still going through your head, but neither option was good, suddenly an idea came.

You threw yourself on the floor and quickly crawled to a table near the windows, hiding under it, the cameras filmed your movements and your friends' confused reactions.

“Y/N! What are you doing?” Janine asks.

“Nothing,” you grumbled, praying to eat in peace, “I'm just having lunch, like a normal person does.”

“You are literally eating under the table. That’s definitely not something you would do and everyone knows that. And it's kind of weird.” Gregory notes.

You were surprised by Ava, who ran in. Not wanting to miss anything she knew was going to happen. The principal loved an entertainment and the whole school knew. “I don’t think Melissa would mind if you said you consider her a milf. She would probably love it, saying it's hot and all of that shit,” she shrugged.

“What?” Jacob questioned.

“AVA!” you scolded her, “You aren't helping! And by the way, how do you know about this?”

“Girl, I know everything. And I must say, it's the funniest thing I've ever seen in my life.”

“What’s going on?” Janine alternates her gaze between the two of you.

You explained everything in detail to all of them who to be honest found it all a bit comical, but seeing the way you were nervous made them take it back.

After hearing Melissa and Barbara's voices, you got scared and shrank even more under the table. Hoping they wouldn't notice you. But that didn't happen. When the redhead entered, all attention quickly went straight to her. The cameras zoomed in on what she was using and everyone was shocked.

“What are you looking at?” She growls in a threatening tone and the teachers return to focusing on their activities, afraid of her. You laughed, that was so Melissa. And that's what ruined the chance to avoid her.

“Dear? What are you doing under the table?” Barbara asks.

“I was just seeing if...the tables were in a good condition! That's it, actually, I have to go now,” you walk towards the door, but a firm hand on your wrist stops you.

“Where are you going? I thought we agreed to have lunch together,” Melissa spoke.

“It’s not a good idea for us to do that,” you pull away from her touch. Waiting for her to give in, but something unexpected happened.

She took the lunch bag from your hands, standing on her tiptoes so as not to let you reach and looking straight into your eyes.

“Give me that back now!” You complain and she shakes her head.

“Tell me, what’s really going on? Why can you barely look at me?” she whispers that last part.

“It doesn't matter.” You respond, feeling your blood rise and your breathing slowly fail.

“Can you stop acting like a child and act like an adult, for once?” She retorts, making you roll your eyes.

“FUCK YOU MELISSA,” you yelled and everyone gasped. In years of working at Abbott, you had never raised your voice to anyone, especially the redhead, “JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!”

Melissa's eyes widened, surprised to see you facing her and saying that stuff. A feeling of pain settled in her body, but obviously she didn't show it.

Impatient and without thinking twice. You threw yourself at the older woman, who got scared, losing her balance. Because of this, both fell to the icy ground.

Melissa hit her back, letting out a groan of pain, seeing what you had caused, you quickly stood up, getting off of her.

“I’m sorry, Lissa. I’m so fucking stupid,” you tremble, feeling tears come out of your eyes.

Feeling overwhelmed, you ran out of the lounge, leaving a bewildered redhead.

“Y/N, PLEASE COME BACK HERE!” Melissa's voice echoed throughout the school, now she was going to worry about trying to fix what the hell had happened between you two. And it wouldn't be easy.

[blimgus]

WHB SLEEPOVER SERIES -GEHENNA VER.

Hey guysss blimgus here

guys guys listen i've got an idea.

_______________________________________

Imagine spending your sweet time in Gehenna. Peaceful slow time in the capital passes with the occasional random explosions in the background. However, when the night comes it's time to head back to Satan's castle for a rest. But due to some devils fighting over your attention with each other, you decide that organizing a big sleepover would solve the problem!

By bribing Ppyong with some chocolate you get the necesarry stuff you needed from Minhyeok's room. You grab the definitly too big bag from the tiny Red Lump Devil and hand over his reward.You check the contents of it,while Ppyong stuffs a bunch of ferreros in his mouth.

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

Satan

○ pretty chill about organising a sleepover, tells you that's a good way to boost morale

○ tbh i imagine he'll pick a classic white tank top and some heart boxer briefs xD

○ imagine having a casual romantic talk with him while cooking marshmallows over a burning toaster

○ he's totally up to play some games and have fun with you ( and his subordinates)

○ causes a massive pillow fight to unleash, anihilates most of the others(don't worry he'll go easy on you, but you will not escape your fate *yeets a pillow*)

○ however true chaos starts when you introduce him to Mario Kart

○ oh God I have the absolutely cursed idea. Like imagine playing Mario Kart with him as a foreplay later (gfhsjsbsb)

○when the time to sleep comes he'll flop down on the huge bed like some kind of a log

○ yeah you wake up to grab some water or go piss and have a Satan jumpscare bc either he sleeps with his eyes open (which totally glow in the dark believe me) or he just pretends to be asleep and we will never know the truth

Sitri

○ahhh Sitri my baby

○ like he's totally rocking the leopard print luxury pyjamas bc like that's so Sitri-coded

○he'll spend most of the with his tea on the sofa.The only person allowed to sit next to him is you, just so he can listen to your heartbeat a bit better ~♡

○ paint his nails, paint his nails

○ i totally see Sitri sitting with you in the kitchen, blind testing some awful convenience store tea and listening to him shit talking the diffrent brands while offering you to try some REAL tea (we all know how it may end)

○ when the places for everyone to sleep were decided, he got kinda fussy bc he was somehow expelled from the bed

○ baby got angy, but at least he gets to calmly listen to your heartbeat when you sleep...

Paimon

○ PAIMON PAIMON YAS QUEEN

○ No.1 sleepover fan

○ Literally teleported to you when he heard you say the word ,,sleepover "

○ Literally girls night , painting nails, eating snacks, doing each others hairrrr, playing dress-up

○ totally into watching Barbie movies, especially the Old ones, or some shitty romcoms

○ came up with the idea of organising a Just Dance tournament to decide who gets to sleep next to you,

○ offers you to help you clean off your make up before sleeping to get alone with you for a while

○ good night smooches from Paimon♡

Leraye

○ Golden retriever energyyyy

○ he would probably wear a kigurumi, or some cute long sleeved pyjamas with a teddy bear pattern

○ gets destroyed at Mario Kart oof

○ tbh I headcanon that the whole pillow fight started bc he accidentaly sniped Satan with a pillow from across the room.

○*insert boss battle music*

○ *insert the sounds of gunshots and screams*

○ all Hell breaking loose

○ also he gets really invested in the Barbie movie's story???

○at the end of the day, he goes to sleep with one of satan's decapitated plushie~

Belial

○Happily agrees to joining the party!...*insert jjyu cursing*

○ he comes wearing matching dark read top and bottom, ngl the colour matches his hair highlights nicely

○ also Jjyu is here with a tiny night cap

○Belial seems like that one person who comes to the party to share some banger music they found on Spootify

○ ya know some small talk with himm while the musics plays in the background

○ some time later puts Jjyu in time out bc he got a little out of control

○ in order to keep chatting with him without straining his voice, you decide to whisper to each others ears

○ so romantic

Zagan

○ Most of the time he just keep to himself. Don't worry he's enjoying himself, just not too good with talking.

○honestly i think he'll wear a black tank top and some totally normal pants. Idk he just seems like the neutral clothing type of guy to me.

○Tries to learn some Mario Kart. I mean he still ends on a higher place in the races than Leraye due to everyone """accidentaly""" targeting him.

○ Have you wondered who won the Just Dance tournament?

○Yeah, it was Zagan.

○ He absolutely destroyed Paimon and Sitri, much to their dismay.

○ Now he gets to sleep next to you!

○ Don't worry we keeping this situation "non-horni" so no naughty stuff or smth

○sooo he just lays there with you on his right side and on the left... there's a drooling and snoring Leraye.

Astaroth

○ honestly nobody expected him to actually show up

○but heyyy he and his snake are here!!

○ totally wears the darkest coloured robe and some classy black fluff slippers

○ kitchen talk with you, him and Sitri so real

○ low pitched chuckle coming from him when he sees you goofing around with others

○he loves hearing your laugh

○ agrees to tell you a bedtime story as long as you'll promise him to repay the favour later~

○ he spends the night on the armchair, his snake chilling on his shoulders, while he reads a book he brought to the party

___________________________

Paying my respects to people writing fanfics, bc it takes a lot of dedication to push out that many words and not go bonkers...

First time writing anything like that on this site, English grammar defeated me here.

Hope you like it!

-blimgus out

[witchofhimring]

Rhaenyra losing her daughter in childbirth

Warnings: death, childbirth, trauma

So I promised that my next writing of Rhaenyra would be happy. But I suddenly had this plot bunny so we have angst again.

-She still had nightmares of her own mothers death. She had not been there but that did not stop images of a knife cutting up her mother from haunting Rhaenyra. They were less frequent these days, she was done having children and the fear was abated. Her fate would not be in the birthing bed. When Rhaenyra's only daughter excitedly told her mother that she was with child it came roaring back with a vengeance. Now it was no longer herself under that knife but her daughter.

-At first Rhaenyra tried to console herself with the fact that Y/n had the best maesters on hand. Y/n was constantly examined and Rhaenyra was informed of any changes. As Y/n's belly grew those fears became more prominent. She could hardly walk without her mother hovering about. Rhaenyra will have pillows situated on every seat throughout the Red Keep.

-Rhaenyra finds it hard to fully get excited about the baby. Not that she did not want grandchildren. Especially since Y/n had always wanted to be a mother. She tries to be happy for her sake. Rhaenyra will listen to her daughter's excited rambling and feign happiness. But deep inside she is petrified with fear.

-During the nights Rhaenyra's nightmares will continue. Sometimes she wakes up in a sweat and frantically wake. She throws on a robe and walks to her daughters room. Y/n will be there sleeping peacefully, chest rising and falling. For a while Rhaenyra will watch as if expecting something bad to happen. Eventually Rhaenyra will quietly walk back to her room.

-By the seventh month Y/n's mobility is greatly decreased. She has to lean on her mother for support. Rhaenyra tries to remain calm and support her girl. When Y/n falls into anxiety Rhaenyra tries to cheer her daughter up. Because walking is difficult Rhaenyra props up pillows under the Weirwood tree. As Y/n lays there Rhaenyra reads her favourite stories. In the meantime Rhaenyra will summon merchants to bring items from all over Westeros and Essos with various goods. These items are not just for the baby but Y/n as well. Rhaenyra imports goods that helped her through the pregnancies she carried. Balms that sooth her aching muscles are applied to Y/n's skin on a daily basis. Teas that sooth her aching belly are administered by Rhaenyra. While Rhaenyra was never truly taken to sweing she began to make comfortable dresses that her daughter could wear.

-When Y/n goes into confinement Rhaenyra does with her. Of course as Queen Rhaenyra has other responsibilities to attend to so there are times she leaves. And there are some who complain that the Queen spends too much time away from her desk. But right then she did not care, Y/n was her priority. Although confinement is a custom, when Y/n asks for the windows to be opened Rhaenyra does so. She does not care what the ladies say. She dreads her daughter feeling miserable leading up to the labor. They try to keep their mind off what will take place in a few weeks time. Y/n speaks of wanting to see Dragonstone again when she recovers and Rhaenyra promises her so.

-Y/n's labor start of the day the maesters said it would. Rhaenyra is woken by her daughter shaking her. Y/n is quaking and hunched over. Blood and other bodily fluids are staining her nightgown. In a moment the room is busy with maesters, midwives and ladies. Word goes around that the princess in in labor and that night people go to the sept to pray. Rhaenyra holds her daughters hands as every pained breath escapes Y/n quivering mouth. They give her herbs for the pain but it does not stop the blood. A days passes, then two, and the horrid realization that her fears might come true horrifies Rhaenyra.

-She tells the maesters that if they cut Y/n open she will feed them to Syrax. Eventually, as Y/n fades in and out of consciousness, Rhaenyra gives them her consent to try something. Since the baby will not come out on its own they will have to turn it. The idea makes Rhaenyra physically ill and she has to puke pile into a bowl. She goes to her daughter and whispered "I love you" before her legs are forced apart and the maesters hands go in. She begs her daughter to just hold on a little longer. Y/n's hand seizes hers with abnormal strength and Rhaenyra prays. Let her daughter live.

-The baby arrives into the world wailing. Y/n falls onto the bedding and Rhaenyra lets out a cry of relief. The baby, much stronger than her brother Baelon had been, kicks its strong legs and flails its fists. She turns to her daughter and the smile dies. Y/n's skin has a sickly hue to it. Her eyes seem to fade and the grip slackens. "Y/n!" She screams out.

-They lead the screaming Queen out. Daemon is summoned to pick his wife up and he carries her to their shared room. She is screaming and crying, unaware that she is not even beside her daughter anymore. They force something warm and bitter down her throat and Rhaenyra unwillingly floats into unconsciousness.

-She wakes two days later. Beside her are the children, her son Jaecerys holding her hand. Lucerys is holding her newest grandchild with Jeoffrey peering down at her. The youngest two are in their fathers arms. Rhaena and Baela stand by the fireplace shielding themselves from the rest of the family in their distress. Daemon says nothing and simply takes his wive's hand. "I'm sorry." Is all he can say.

- She prepares your body alone. Rhaenyra can not bear the thought of unfamiliar Silent Sisters touching you, even dead. She quietly sings old songs her own mother once sang. Rhaenyra prays that you were up with Aemma. Oh if only the two of you could have met. She does not wrap you up, she always knew you hated enclosed spaces. You are dressed in red and black with a diadem placed on the h/c locks. Once she had made it for you to pass down. Now the thought of anyone having it but you was more than she could bear. Rhaenyra is riding behind your carriage, pale and weeping. This is her mothers death all over again. When they reach Rhaenys's Hill Rhaenyra can not bring herself to light the pyre. It is her eldest son who does the honor, Vermax's flames engulfing Y/n's body. Rhaenyra does not remember the rest of the day.

-One night, weeks later, Y/n visits her mother in dreams. She was with her grandmother in and endless sea of flowers. They were both laughing as the sun danced off their skin. Rhaenyra had never thought much about the afterlife. But as she looked upon her daughter and mother she prayed they were happy. A bright sun hailed the day. Rhaenyra lay in bed for a few moments as some deep emotion stirred within her. The feeling was like a new emotion awakening within her. It was not pain yet it stabbed within her like a knife. With an aching chest Rhaenyra threw a robe over her body. It was early enough that only the servants were awake. The babies room was silent except for small rustling noises. Peaking into the crib her grandchild stared up at her with wide eyes. Rhaenyra's heart nearly stopped as she realized this baby had Y/n's eyes. With steady hands Rhaenyra picked up the baby. It stirred and made cooing noises before Rhaenyra held the baby to her chest. Warmth spread throughout her body as this last piece of her daughter reached out for Rhaenyra. She walked over to a chair and picked up a book. It was Y/n's favourite, the one Rhaenyra read to her. Rhaenyra cradled her grandchild close and read.

[brummiereader]

MASTERLIST PREVIOUS PART

Unchained Melody (Part Six/Final Chapter)

Summary: After a passionate night rekindling your marriage. Yours and Tommy's happy bubble of bliss quickly bursts when the Governess' deadly plan comes to fruition. With each of your lives in danger, will you be able to escape her devilish agenda, bringing her to justice for her harrowing acts of evil? Or will her crazed delusions become a reality for all those that still reside in Arrow House?

Warnings: Language, angst, fluff, violence, murder

Word Count: 6024

"Tom..." You giggled your husband's name, sat on his office desk with his firm legs perched between your open thighs as his hand roamed up your dress, smiling into your mouth as he pressed hurried kisses to your plump lips. "...someone might walk in" you pulled back as he leaned forward, capturing your lips once again in a passionate embrace whilst pulling at the garter holding your stockings up. His fingers making quick work at discretely unclasping one. " You'll...you'll have Frances in a dizzy, if she walks in on us" you laughed breathlessly, swatting his hand away as you slid off the polished wood before he could venture any further, and things took a heated turn.

" A few hail Mary's, and a visit to confession. And our trusted housekeeper will still make it through the pearly gates after seeing the wicked things I'm gonna do with you" Tommy mumbled into your neck with a smirk, pecking kisses along your jaw as he quickly followed behind you. His hands finding their way back up the curves of your legs as he attempted to pull down the thin fabric of lace to the only heaven that awaited him.

Insatiable, would be putting it mildly. Your husband had become a raging, love-sick man intent on making up for lost time. The previous night of passion having ignited an unstoppable need in him to ravage you every waking moment of the day. Tommy was completely, utterly, smitten as the day he first met you.

"Tommy, everything's going to be ok, isn't it?" You asked, slowly turning to face him as he pulled back from kissing along your neck, and you came face to face with a furrowed expression sat firmly on his brows as he lifted his hands to your hips. Halting any further attempts to have his way with you.

" Why wouldn't it be, darling?" he replied perplexed, as an underlying concern as to what had you suddenly so worried quickly entered his confused thoughts.

" It's just..." You sighed, looking away as your husband's grip tightened. His own unease now rapidly seeping into his still fragile heart, over-shadowing the jovial moment

" Y/N?" Tommy's breath hitched, as he searched your eyes for your lack in response. Was you having second thoughts about him? Did you regret last night? Fuck. He was rushing things, wasn't he?

" ... we're happy, right?" you said as you rested your hands on his broad shoulders, agonisingly dragging out your full response to your husband who was now waiting with bated breath as he nervously watched your eyes dart around the room to anything but him. " I'm...I'm scared Tommy, that it'll all be taken away"

" Fuck, sweetheart..." Tommy breathed heavily, releasing the pressure from within his lungs. His rapidly beating heart enough for him to think he'd kill over at any second, having endured the few minutes that had felt like an eternity. "Listen to me, darling" he said, cupping your cheeks as his face inched closer to yours. " Me, you and William. That's all that matters. I won't let anyone, or anything take that away from us, alright?" he said, leaning in to place a reassuring peck to your lips as one last worry lingered in your thoughts.

" Just the three of us?" You asked, pulling your head away as the unspoken question as to the Governesses employment weighed heavy on your thoughts, having left Tommy to deal with her fate.

" She's gone" Tommy replied, believing his marching orders had been thoroughly followed through when he locked you both away in the refuge of your living room. Away from the buzzing chatter and dying music that had filled your home the previous night.

With your worries dispelled, and your husband's hand soothingly caressing the tresses of your hair. A sense of calm settled between you both as a peaceful smile flickered across your face. A reassuring enough smile to simmer your husband's own concerns as the welcome sound of pitter-patter running along the hallway had him beaming from ear to ear.

"Here comes trouble" Tommy chuckled, looking to the opening door when a squealing two year old came barraging through with wobbly legs and open arms, knocking everything in his path.

"Hi, darling!" You excitedly matched his liveliness, crouching down to wrap him tightly in your arms as Tommy knelt beside you with his hand rested on your lower back, steadying you from your energetic toddler. " We owe Frances a raise" you laughed as you looked to Tommy, who could only agree that your loyal housekeeper was well overdue an increase in wages for not only having to care for the majority of your child's spirited nature in your absence but, Tommy's sour mood she'd put up with for more than two years.

" It was me who looked after him this morning. Frances went into the city, to be seen by a doctor" your ears pierced hearing the voice of the one person you wished to never lay eyes on again as you looked over your son to see her smartly polished heels on the chestnut paneled flooring. Your flooring. Your home. Tommy said she was gone.

"Don't worry I won't be adding that bonus to my final pay check" she giggled as you and Tommy rose to your feet, your husbands eyes widening with a blaring fury." Train was cancelled" she smirked to your husband, who was seconds from wrapping his fingers around her throat and squeezing the smugness from her face.

"Tommy..." You grabbed hold of your husband's arm, gently urging him back when he quickly pushed you and William behind him and away from the woman who had unbeknownst to you, threatened your very lives the previous day.

Unhinged. A screw loose. Call it what you want. Tommy was taking no chances when it came to the safety of you and your child from the viper of a woman intent on not leaving without making it known how blindsided she felt she had been treated.

" William's doctor called from the hospital" she interrupted your husband's rising finger, and angry words ready to spill from within the tightening pressure of his jaw. " He wishes to check on his well-being. Thought you would like to accompany him Mrs Shelby, since you didn't bother when he was rushed to hospital" she chided, looking past your husband to William held tightly in your arms as you cradled his head protectively to your chest. " Shame we couldn't get better acquainted, considering we shared something in common. All but briefly for me, that was" she scoffed as she looked at your husband from head to toe, her eyes lingering on the silver buckle of his belt.

" The shame lies only with you" you quipped back as you walked to stand next to your husband's side. A strong enough message to the woman hell-bent on destroying your relationship, that all had been forgiven on both parts.

" The perfect little family" she seethed through a tight smile, attempting to hide the excitement of her revenge close to fruition." Well, I must be off. I have a train to catch" she said as she turned to the door before leaving one last dire statement. "Mr Giles the cook, has prepared you a flask of tea and some biscuits for your car ride to the hospital. Would be a...shame to forget" she smiled before her burgundy talons brushed behind the door, and your husband's jaw was all but ready to snap as he marched after her.

" One last time, Tommy. For old times sake?" She giggled as Tommy grabbed hold of her forearm, dragging her up the stairs to the small bedroom she once occupied at the far end of the hallway.

With little care for the manners any man of his time would possess for the opposite sex. Tommy, without mercy, pushed her with force into her room, letting her stumble onto the ground into a flustered heap.

" Get the fuck out of my house, do you hear me?!" Tommy's voice boomed through the bricked walls of your home, ignoring her lewd comments as he lifted her suitcase from the top of the wardrobe. Raging with anger, Tommy pulled her clothes from their hangers, throwing them into the wooden case as the rest of her belongings quickly followed with little regard for their value or sentimental meaning.

" Oh, come on, Tommy. While we're up here, we might as well" she purred as she stood up, stroking her fingers along the shimmering of sweat that had gathered on his chin.

" I warned you" Tommy seethed through gritted teeth, grabbing her face and burying his fingers into her porcelain skin until hitting bone. " I fucking warned you!" He screamed in her face before pushing her away from him, revolted by the sight of her.

" Daddy, uh oh" Young William babbled as his doe eyes beamed up at you while you waited in the foyer, nervously bouncing from foot to foot.

" Yes, darling. Daddy's not happy" you said, covering your child's innocent ears from your husband's bellowing voice.

" One hour. I want you gone! Else you'll be leaving in that suitcase" Tommy said breathlessly, as he threw her coat at her before slamming the door shut with enough force to rattle the whole building, and everyone's jilted nerves from hearing his thundering threats.

" Tommy?" Your voice wobbled with worry as he stormed down the stairs to you and his child.

" She's going, ok? She's going" Tommy said cupping the curve of your cheek, pressing a kiss to the crown of William's head as he held you both within the protection of his arms.

" Tommy, If she hasn't given up now, she won't ever" you replied, clutching on to his suit jacket as Tommy looked down at the distress casting a dewy shadow of tears in the wells of your eyes.

" She'll be gone by the time you get back" Tommy reassured, rubbing his thumb over your wetted cheek as your maid Ethel approached with a small satchel of tea and homemade oat biscuits.

" Mam" She said, handing them to you as you juggled to keep your wriggly two year old desperate to get moving from leaping from your arms.

" Maybe I should call the doctor, and cancel?" you proposed, wanting to stay with Tommy in fear of his safety as much as your own as he helped you with the leather-strapped bag, securing it tightly onto your shoulder.

" You gonna wield a gun for me, darling? " Tommy chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. Finding your endearing comments about his safety, the most notorious gangster of Birmingham, with anything but the weight you said them with.

" Tom, I'm serious" you huffed as the engine to your husband's latest purchase revved on the gritted path outside your home.

" Don't worry about me, eh? Tommy smiled, stroking his hand down the curve of your back as he accompanied you both into the welcome sun of a cloudless spring day. "Be a good boy for mum, son" Tommy said as he opened the door, ruffling Williams hair into a messy mane of dark locks. " I love you" your husband's voice soothed your shaky nerves as he bent down to capture your lips, gently sweeping his tongue against yours in a longing embrace before closing the door and heading back into the cool foyer of his grand home.

Fifty minutes, and counting. Tommy's brow furrowed as he looked down at his pocket watch with a heavy sigh before storming off to the sanctuary of his office as he counted down the minutes to the Governesses departure. A departure Tommy would make certain was upheld. This time she would be dealt with personally, by him. In whichever way he saw fit. But nonetheless, quietly, and away from your eyes he had done his best to keep his murderous business doings from seeing.

But the Governess had no intentions of going quietly, if going at all. With her plan to be rid of you and the obstacle your presence brought to her ultimate goal close to fulfillment, she began to unpack her belongings. Neatly hanging them one by one back into the large wardrobe of her former lodgings before turning onto the hallway and to the room she had been barred from since the day of her arrival at Arrow House. Yours and Tommy's master bedroom.

Sat at your vanity in one of the many silk pieces of exquisite French lingerie Tommy had brought you over the years, the Governess ran her fingers slowly through her hair, pining each section in place to favor the likeness of your own soft locks.

" Mrs Shelby. Pleasure to meet you" She giggled as she caressed the curve of her jaw, admiring herself in the weathered glass of your dresser as she played through the introductions her crazed mind thought she would soon be addressing the many acquaintances of your husband.

As her fingers glided over the various trinkets and glass bottles of perfumes sat on the mahogany wood. Her curious hands came to sit over a small silver box carved in flowers. With no regard to your personal belongings, much like Tommy held little for hers when he furiously threw her possessions into the suitcase she had now unpacked. The Governess opened the monogrammed case with your engraved initials to see a twinkling set of pearl drop earrings, sitting within the black velvet lining.

" Oh my, Tommy" she said as her eyes beamed at the delicate jewellery that was undoubtedly worth more than she had ever made or possessed, before quickly snatching them from within the box and clutching them in her envious hands as she threw the small silver tin to the floor.

With the precious jewels Tommy had once gifted you now adorning the ears of the woman that held nothing but hate for you, her attention landed on the small picture frame sat in front of her.

" Mrs Shelby" she seethed though gritted teeth as the contours of her face twisted in a thirst to have any remnant of you destroyed, abolished.

Picking up the framed memory of you and Tommy on your wedding day, the Governesses thumb sat over the picture of your beaming face as her sharply pointed nail slowly pierced through the thin glass, leaving a trail of blood seeping down the white lace of your marriage gown.

" Mrs Shelby" she relaxed her taut shoulders, clearing her throat as she leaned forward to her reflection to dab away the watering charcoal lining the pools of her twitching eyes. "Mrs Agness Shelby..."

Stepping out of the car with William hitched on your hip, you looked up at the imposing hospital sat before you as you apprehensively made your way into the bricked building. The same bricked building your son was rushed to mere days ago.

What did they think of your absence on that frightful day he was rushed into their care? Would they question your role as his prime caretaker, his mother? With too many unwelcome worries clouding your thoughts, you pushed through your nagging anxiety with one determined foot in front of the other, making your way through the double doors to the front desk.

" Excuse me" your timid voice spoke to the secretary filing various documents piled in her hands, the chaos any hospital would bring dulling your voice. " Excuse me, Mam" you spoke above the noise of beds with patients both old and young being wheeled behind you with a following of nurses, doctors and worried family members.

" Oh, I'm sorry dear. We're awfully busy today. There must be something in the air. Emergency or appointment? "The older lady who had seen every bruise, cough and broken bone in her many years working in a hospital smiled to you as she sat down, relieved to finally rest her tired feet.

" Appointment" you replied, adjusting William on your waist, his restless legs wanting to explore the unfamiliar surroundings and all its many enticing doors.

" With who, my lovely?" She said opening the hefty book of appointments in front of her.

" Oh, I...I don't...I'm sorry I don't know his name" you replied with heated cheeks, worried a barrage of questions as to why a child's own mother wouldn't make note of her sons doctor was heading your way.

" Don't fret dear. I couldn't even remember what day of the week it was when my little sprouts were that age" she chuckled, earning a relieved smile from you. Her gentle demeanor dispelling your previous worries into silly notions not worth the concern. " What's your name young sir?" She smiled to William as his chubby cheeks dimpled at the elder woman's friendly nature.

" This is William, William Shelby" you beamed, tickling under his chin as he squealed. Playfully kicking his little booted feet back and forth.

" Young William Shelby, I remember you. How could I have forgotten those beautiful blue eyes" she gushed before turning the page to your son's doctors' schedule. " How strange..." She frowned as her fingers flicked back and forth between the pages.

" Is there a problem?" you questioned, leaning forward into the desk separating you as Williams patience with being held had reached an all-time limit, having now perfected the art of walking, he saw no use in standing idle, when one could simply run everywhere. Much to your dismay.

" We don't have any appointments for William today. The doctor that tended to him is out on call" she said, looking up to you as your mind racked with confusion.

" Oh..." You replied, a sudden flash of fear settling in your stomach, and back to your home Arrow House. Back to Tommy.

" Would you like me to jot down an appointment for him tomorrow, dear?" She smiled, bringing you back from your sudden quietness and distracted thoughts.

" No, no thank you. We need to head back" you politely declined, before saying goodbye and hurrying to the car that awaited you outside.

" We're nearly home, William" you hushed your child's cries seated in the back of the car with you. " Look, you can see the house from here, darling" you enthusiastically pointed out to him. Your attempts to calm his grumbling belly going ignored as he rolled around in his seat, thrashing his arms against the padded cushion.

" We can stop 'ere mam, for a few minutes? Let him get some fresh air" Gerry your driver asked, slowing down the car to a grassy opening blooming with meadow flowers on the side of the road.

" Yes, I think we had better" you chuckled, quickly flinging the door open and grabbing the satchel of tea and biscuits as William hoped down the seat behind you.

" Tea, Gerry?" You asked your driver as he leaned against the car, puffing away on his pipe as you filled your small metal cup to the brim, then resting It on the grass as William happily munched his way through his second biscuit next to you.

" Thank you. Lovely" he walked forward, bending down to take the metal cup of tea when Williams eager hands reached for another delicious treat, knocking the contents of your mug into the ground. " William careful, sweetheart!"

"Yucky!" your son shouted, pulling faces at the sizzling liquid burning through the grass. " Yucky, yucky!" He pointed, as you pulled him away from the substance corroding rapidly through the muddied ground that you and your driver were seconds from drinking.

" Don't touch it!" Gerry warned, throwing his cup to the ground before kicking the remnants in the large flask into the dirt with the tip of his boot.

" Gerry?" Your voice shook, as your eyes darted between him and your son, looking lovingly up at you as he held tightly onto your summer blouse.

" Rat poison, Mam..."

Agness.

Two minutes. Tommy huffed looking down at his gold pocket watch, awaiting the sound of the Governesses heals descending the stairs, when the door to his office flew open.

" Mr Shelby!" Frances hurried towards him clutching her bandaged wrist, with an urgent matter needing his acknowledgment.

" Frances?" Tommy's brow scrunched together as he rose from his seat, unaccustomed to seeing his trusted employee in such a frantic state. " Your wrist" he said cupping it within his hands as he inspected the efficiency of the bandaging, having bundled up many of his own broken bones and injuries in his time.

" Mr Shelby, I need to speak with you" she desperately tried to garner his attention as Tommy walked to his phone, now intent on her being seen by one of his own doctors after having had a small briefing by your cook Mr Giles about her suspicious injury and his insistance on her being seen by a doctor that morning.

" You'll be seen by my doctor, today. Gerry will take you in the car. 125 Temple road, Birmingham. Dr Mil..." Tommy replied as he was put through to the operator at the other end of the phone when all formalities flew out the window and your usually reserved housekeeper interrupted him. Or rather, shouted at him.

" Thomas Shelby! Listen. Please..." The desperation in her voice rose as Tommy lowered the phone and a hint of a smirk peaked at the corner of his mouth, finding a small amount of amusement in being talked to like a mother would her unruly child by his most diligent, quietest worker.

" Young Billy, the scared mite..." She sighed as Tommy's attention finally turned to her and what she urgently had to say. "Informed me late last night of something weighing heavy on his heart since the day little William was rushed to hospital"

" I'm listening" Tommy's posture straightened as he urged her to continue.

"He was in the kitchen with your wife and the Governess when William was handed the chestnuts to eat. But what Billy saw, was not Mrs Shelby picking them out for him, but the Governess, Mr Shelby. Agness. Fully aware of your son's allergy" she finished as the unimaginable news of yours your son's life purposely put in danger in a viscous act of revenge had your husband's heart rapidly thump within his chest as his mouth suddenly went dry. "That's not all..." Her eyes glazed over with worry, as Tommy's widened at the possibility that anything more damning could be revealed. "I found this in the kitchen next to some freshly brewed tea on my return" her voice wobbled uncovering a small bottle of rat poison as Tommy's mind swiftly homed in on the tartan patterned flask you were given that morning.

With every vein in his body pulsing with horror, your husband quickly descended into a state of shock as his stare narrowed in on the bottle of poison in Frances' hand before his eyes flew up to the ceiling and the occupant of the room it once belonged to.

" My wife...my son" Tommy's panicked eyes looked to Frances, believing the unthinkable as an unprecedented fury suddenly overtook every fear he had let his mind believe, and he stormed from his office, gun securely by his side, to the room of the woman he would show no mercy to.

" Get Johnny and his boys here, now!" Tommy bellowed from the top of the landing, pushing through his trembling body and weighted feet as he marched to her room whilst a gathering of employees descended into the foyer after hearing the commotion.

With an empty room and an equally empty suitcase sitting on her bed, Tommy stormed to the master bedroom, throwing the door open. With his eyes widening in disbelief, Tommy came to face the sight of the governess sprawled upon your satin linen bedding, dressed in a dusty pink corset you would wear in your most intimate moments with him, and your jeweled earrings pierced through the lobes of her ears.

" Tommy, I've been waiting for you" her sultry voice oozed as she swept her hand across the empty space where your husband would rest his tired head next to yours.

" My wife, my child..." Tommy's voice lowly mumbled as his body began to stiffen with a hatred, a blaring anger curling deep within the pits of his stomach for the woman callously smiling at him.

" Have they been taken ill?" She batted her lashes as she slipped off the bed and approached him, unable to hide the smirk toying on the edge of her painted lips.

With a roar mustered from the depths of his breaking heart, Tommy lunged forward, wrapping his fingers around her neck until her body slammed into the vanity she had spent the past hour pruning herself to favor your appearance.

" Tommy..." She spluttered as she winced at his tightening grip, watching his eyes glaze over into darkening pools of terror. " Remember..." She coughed as she grabbed hold of his arm, his pulsing veins protruding furiously to the surface of his skin as his muscles tightened. " Remember, the time we spent together. The way..." She managed to mutter through labored breaths as Tommy's head cocked to the side, a scoff leaving his mouth while his grip loosened. Toying with her inevitable fate as he waited for her to finish. " The way I made you feel. How I made you cum" she swallowed, brushing her hand along his chest in attempts to calm his fury as she allowed the brief moment to capture her breath before Tommy's fingers trailed up her neck to the pearls dangling from her ears.

" I thought about my wife the entire time" he whispered through gritted teeth to her. Enjoying the look of fury mounting on her face before ripping the earrings from her flesh and clasping his fingers back around her swollen neck, tightening notch by notch with the twist of his hand.

With the remaining air being sucked from her lungs, the Governess frantically clawed at your husband's arm as the force of his grip pushed her back against the mirror, and her desperate fingers searched behind her for something, anything to hinder him.

As Tommy watched the life slip slowly from her ghostly face. The Governess, with her last breath, grabbed hold of a silver nail file, piercing it through your husband's abdomen just as you reached your shared room after racing to Arrow House with the fear your husband had ultimately met his own deathly ending at the hands of the Governess.

With a look of horror on your face at the sight before you, you stepped back in disbelief. The Governess dressed in your lingerie, pinned up against your vanity, breathing heavily as your grunting husband looked down between them.

No...no! You internally screamed to yourself as you stumbled back from what your mind could only make sense of, as your husband fucking the woman he had forbid from ever entering your home again.

In a state of searing shock, your crushed heart betrayed you with a response of complete silence as you slipped away, running past Johnny and his men in the foyer. Fleeing from your house once again.

Looking down at the trail of blood seeping through his ivory shirt, Tommy grunted as he pulled the metal file from his flesh as the Governess struggled off the dresser, only to be stopped when your husband's lust for her death dulled the burning pain scorching through his body, and his hand flew around her neck as she began to thrash in his hold once again. Tightening and tightening, he squeezed her bruising skin, wringing the life from her with so much force, she fell to the floor, causing Tommy to let go.

" Tom!" Johnny's voice shouted as he ran to the room, his trusted clan of men closely following behind him. " Jesus, bloody Christ in heaven..." Johnny's eyes widened, stopping to see Tommy looming with his gun over the spluttering Governess as blood dripped from his open stomach.

" You killed my wife, my son!" Tommy screamed, his watering eyes blurring his trembling vision as he cocked his gun, whilst Johnny slowly approached with his hands up.

" Steady there, Tom" Johnny spoke lowly, inching forward to him like you would a startled horse, when your husband's dazed mind turned the gun to his friend, warning him to not come between him and his revenge for blood spilled.

" Y/N, William....they're not dead, Tommy. They're safe" he reassured him as he rested his hand over the gun pointed straight to his chest. " Saw her with my own eyes. God is my witness" he looked to the heavens as Tommy brows furrowed together. "Bolted past me only five minutes ago, Tom. Come on now, ey?" he said as Tommy's shaky hand lowered, and he let out a guttural whimper as he hunched over. The news of yours and Williams safety, knocking the wind from his straining lungs.

Brushing the tears from his eyes, Tommy let go of the gun into his trusted friends hand, the sniffling Governesses heavily breathing on the floor beside him no longer his main concern, but instead you, and the fear of losing you again in the chaos and confusion.

"See to it, Johnny" he said nodding his head to the Governess weakly clawing at his feet for mercy before storming from the room.

" Can you swim?" Johnny cheerfully smiled as he bent down to her eye level.

" No..." She croaked as her eyes widened at Johnny's approaching men with a long hemp rope in their hands.

"Perfect. Lads..." he replied, standing up lighting a cigarette as he motioned to his men when a frightened scream of terror from the Governesses lungs pierced through Arrow House.

What were you doing? You cried to yourself as you walked along the empty country road, fleeing once again. Would you really do this to your son, for a second time? You asked yourself suddenly coming to a stop, Arrow house in the distance no longer looking miles away like it once did, but a mere five minutes' walk.

" Mummy, mummy!" William wailed in the front seat of the car as Tommy raced along the same road, frantically looking for you.

" There she is, look William. Mummy's right there" Tommy said, relieved to have spotted you in the distance as his tires came to a screeching stop, and he grabbed your son, shouting your name as he raced towards you.

" William..." You whispered as you turned to see Tommy running towards you with your child bouncing in his arms, your brows furrowing at the crimson red stain on your husband's shirt.

"Wha...what..." Your voice could barely utter as your husband approached you and you looked down at the fleshy wound visible through the thin fabric of his clothing, your mind suddenly whirring with the possibilities of what actually happened in the room you had fled from, and the mistake you could have made.

" I...I thought she'd killed you" Tommy's voice wobbled pulling you into his chest, as your fingers pulled the cotton from his seeping wound. " She stabbed me before I could finish her off. Crazed bitch" he scoffed, annoyed by the fact she had hindered him for the briefest of moments from squeezing her last breath from her. " It's just a scratch" he cleared his throat, attempting to settle any fears you might have as he winced at your streaming tears stinging his bloodied wound.

" Tom" you cried nestling into him and your son, as the sudden realisation that what you had seen was far from what your paranoid mind had cruelly tricked you into believing.

" Don't do this, darling. Don't leave. Fuck, my heart can't take it again" Tommy lifted your chin to his watery eyes, a show of emotion he had only reserved for moments of solitude and the joyous birth of your child, pooling above his cheeks. " I need you Y/N. We need you" he sniffed as he looked down at William in his arms, wrapping his hand firmly around your back, not wanting or willing to let you leave again. His mind screaming with worry that everything had been too much. Everything he had brought you back to, too fucking much for you to withstand again.

Tired of fleeing from your troubled thoughts, your eyes drifted up to your husband's waiting gaze as you nodded your head. In confirmation to not only him but yourself that the love he endlessly held for you, would get you through anything else that was to be thrown your way.

"Fuck...I need a bloody holiday after this" Tommy chuckled with a sigh of relief pressing his lips to your temple, as William curiously pocked his finger into the puddles sitting on your cheeks." How about it William, eh? He said looking past his chin to your two year old grinning up at him with dimpled cheeks and floppy hair. " Shall we take mummy to the seaside?" Tommy smiled down at his little family and the memory of the promise he could only dream of fulfilling, the only image of you happily together his mind could muster up to get him through his sleepless nights without you. " What do you say, mummy?"

" Just the three of us" you smiled up at him, pressing a keen kiss to his waiting lips as your eyes fluttered close, enjoying the peace of a troublesome chapter your life had tested you with, coming to it's long awaited end.

With his family tightly nestled against his tired body, Tommy freed his weighted thoughts as he pressed his forehead against yours, his grazing lips brushing against your own, curving into a smile as the rhyme you once sang to settle your child quietly hummed from his lips.

Oh, I do like to be beside the seaside.

" Are you sure you want to see this?" Tommy pulled you to his side later that night, warming your body next to his from the bitter cold that had descended on Small Heath as you both stood in unison under the cover of dark near the icy waters of the cut.

" I'm sure" you replied, looking through the mist to the edge of the riverbank at Johnny Dogs and his men tying the end of a rope to a silver iron anchor. The other end of that line, securely fastened to the Governesses feet.

" No! Please!" She screamed to the men awaiting their orders, when she spotted you standing with Tommy through the darkness of the night.

" We're...we're the same, you and me. Both troubled minds" she pleaded with you, playing on your sympathy as a fellow woman and the tender heart any mother would have. " Show pity on me!" she wailed as Tommy pressed a kiss to the side of your temple, feeling your body tense with anger at the woman who had shown no remorse for the life of your son she viciously put in danger. " Please!"

"Darling, it's time" Tommy looked down at you, giving your arm a gentle squeeze of reassurance.

Mercy was to be earned. But even then, clemency for those with wicked minds like that of the Governess who had devilishly wormed her way into your home, and put all your lives at risk. Death, was their only saving grace.

" No!" She screamed as you nodded to Johnny, giving the order for him to send her to the depths of Birmingham's rotting water, to be at one with the discarded waste of Small Heaths residents.

With one firm shove of his hand, your husband's loyal friend pushed the Governess into the frosty river, the weight of her body slowly inching her fate tied to the anchor closing in on the banks edge, until tipping over the bricked pavement and pulling her rapidly down to the waters bed. Justice, at last.

" Let's go home, darling" Tommy turned you in his arms to the alleyway with your cars beaming headlights, and guzzling engine waiting for you.

"Lets" you smiled up at him, burying yourself into the warmth of his coat and his firm body huddled next to yours.

The love of a family unchained. A melody of life's obstacles that would now only live on through the troubles of the past. Arrow House and its family of three would carry on, as if time had never kept them apart. With you always, and forever, the lady of the house. Mrs Shelby.

The end.

Thank you to everyone that commented, reblogged and liked this series. Your interactions throughout, gave me the energy boost I needed to finish this emotional rollercoaster. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this final chapter, and if it ended how you had hoped! Thank you again, my lovelies ❤️.

Brummie xxx

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[azulazenin]

The Big Bad Wolf

Kinktober 2024 | Role Play: Hunter/Prey

Pairing: Adrian Tepes/Alucard x Original Character (Mihaela Karnstein)

Summary: Adrian is in heat and his wife wants to indulge his fantasies

Warnings: Explicit content, (sort of) consensual non-consent. Minors DNI !

A/N: This is an extra for my story The Blackest Day and its sequel Swan Song. Be mindful that in this particular universe, Alucard was born in 1451, not 1456 like the show, and Mihaela was born in 1453. However, they are both dhampirs and they develop faster, by the time this excerpt happens they are physically, emotionally and mentally adults.

This particular piece was inspired by A Scent That Lingers. Go to read it if you're into Vlad and Lisa!

1467

Dry grass and pieces of wood branches scratched Mihaela’s bare feet as she ran around the forest, venturing deep into the wilderness, listening to the wind blowing the leaves on the high trees and a wolf howling from afar. The moon was full and the night was cold. She would have liked to stop and make a fire to warm herself up, but she didn’t have a second to spare, it would only make her fall victim to him sooner.

Him. She could hear him getting closer, the white wolf, his howling becoming louder, a clear indication that he was near, for no matter how fast she ran, Mihaela was still no match for his pace. He was going to get her, mount her and claim her as his mate, just like he said he would. There was no escaping, only delaying her inexorable fate, running until she was out of breath and her poor feet couldn’t take it anymore…

She noticed glimpses of a white figure showing through the old trees, causing her to jump scared and stop so abruptly that she fell to the ground, the stones and pine needles ripping the fabric of her skirts and opening deep scratches on her knees. Mihaela held back a scream not to draw his attention to her, but it was too late: he could scent the droplets of blood flowing from her fresh wounds, and the smell drove him crazy, it soon had him coming out of the shadow of the trees and jumping on top of her.

Mihaela fell on her back, screaming when she looked up and saw him. The wolf, its white fur brushing against her skin, its golden eyes staring at her with some primal urge and its big teeth bared as he growled, sniffing on her to make sure no other beast had tried to claim her before him. She squeezed her eyes shut when she felt his warm tongue licking off the blood of her knees, but when it stopped, something grabbed at her wrists to drag her away, and it weren’t paws, it were hands.

She opened her eyes and the wolf was gone, in its place stood a man, tall and pale, with beautiful, long blond hair and smooth skin. Adrian, her Adrian… but not exactly him. She remembered they were not themselves that night, she wasn’t Mihaela the dhampir princess of Styria, but a helpless, innocent damsel trying to escape her predator; he wasn’t Adrian or Alucard, the son of Dracula and prince of vampires, he was the hunter, the beast who came to mount his prey.

“No!” She whined, struggling to get rid of his strong hold on her wrists.

“Yes!” He purred, dragging her to a pile of leaves in a small depression on the soil.

Mihaela tried to crawl away when she was pushed on that nest of leaves, only to be grabbed by her ankles and pinned down by the weight of his body.

“You’re not trying to escape, are you?” He inquired in a mocking tone, one of his hands back on her wrists to hold them above her head.

“P-Please...” She sobbed, feeling his bare skin against the fabric of her nightdress. He was as naked as the day he was born. “Don’t hurt me...”

“Hurt you? I would never hurt you, my dear, I’m just gonna fuck you.”

“N-No, we c-can’t...”

“Oh, so you're telling me you don’t want me to?” He teased, getting desperate nods in return. “Liar. I can smell how aroused you are.” He pulled up her skirts, pushing her underwear aside to insert a finger inside of her. “And I can taste it.”

Adrian licked her wetness off his finger, groaning in satisfaction at her taste. Her face was flushed with embarrassment, how could her body betray her like this?

He smirked, delighting on her struggle. She was trying to kick him off of her, writhing beneath him as he ripped off her undies, making little noises of protest when he pushed his knee between her legs to spread them open and press it against her clit.

“You really expect me to believe you don’t want this when you’re dripping wet?”

Mihaela bit on her lip, attempting to make it stop quivering. She couldn’t really say he was wrong, even she could smell the juices of her arousal, and it didn’t help that she started to slowly rub her pussy against his knee.

“See? You cannot fight your own desires.” Adrian chuckled, whispering in her ear. “Don’t worry, my dear, I’ll take good care of you.”

He didn’t waste any time preparing her to take him – she was wet enough, and he was hard enough, too turned on by the chase and the little fight she put up. He released her wrists and held his cock, brushing the tip against her entrance, pushing it all the way inside her cunt at once. Beneath him, Mihaela gripped a handful of leaves and wrapped her legs around his waist, arching her back in need.

“Damn, woman! You are so warm...” He moaned, teeth nibbling on her shoulder. “You were made for this… for me.”

Whining, Mihaela let go of the leaves and clung to him, her nails sinking into his back as he smashed his hips against her, balls slapping against her ass and cock reaching all the right spots inside of her. All the previous noises of protest she made turned into little moans and cries for more, her sweet voice mixing with the sounds of nature around them, with the owls’ hoots and the bats’ trills, the rustling of leaves and the whistle of the wind.

Adrian’s lips parted in pleasure when he looked down on her, completely surrendered and under his mercy. He speeds up the pace, thrusting into her poor cunt mercilessly, desperately searching for the relief of his throbbing cock, dying to spill his seed inside of her. Mihaela’s state was no better, hips arching up to meet his, pleading him to fuck her harder and fill her up.

It was his last straw, to feel her walls clenching around him, creaming his dick as she begged for his cum. The sclera of his eyes went red and he grunted like an animal in heat, his hands found their way to grab her waist and keep her still as he fucked her like his life depended on it, as he pushed deeper and deeper until his tip touched her womb and he filled her with his seed.

Adrian sighed with relief, continuing to thrust into her until his cock stopped pulsing. He withdrew, but kept her legs spread for a while so he could look at his sperm leaking from her cunt. Was there ever a more appealing sight?

He finally fell on the ground, pulling her into his arms to nestle her on his chest. He kissed the top of her head, listening to her faint chuckle.

“What’s so funny, love?”

“Nothing.” She giggled. “I was only thinking you were really into it.”

“As were you. Your helpless girl act was really convincing.”

“Well, what can I say? I like the idea of being actually helpless compared to you.”

Adrian laughed too, tightening his hold on her. Of course he would never do any of those things without her explicit consent, but if she liked it that much, what was the problem in indulging?

“You’re a naughty one, you know?”

“And that’s all your fault, I didn’t have these weird fantasies before I married you, you’re the one triggering it.”

He smiled at her words and captured her lips in a sweet kiss, his heart about to explode in chest with the flattery. She always knew what to say and what to do to boost his ego.

Thank the gods he married her.

[lovezbrownies]

Silent treatment. (Yandere!Queen x GN!Reader)

Masterlist.

Synopsis: Your wife won't listen to you, so you take matters into your own hands and fail miserably.

Queen Nia x reader

Word count: 545

Warnings: Stockhold syndrome, no boundaries, not listening?, cute overall.

“Your majesty, ple-” A sharp gasp came out of the woman in front of you, her hand on her chest and a horrified look on her face. “Majesty?!? Are we not married?! My heart, ah!! Maid! Get me a doctor!” Nia goes on with her dramatics once again. And you were exhausted, you could barely have a serious conversation with her, a few months into your marriage with the Queen of Xelera and you couldn’t do it anymore.

So far, you’ve accepted your fate. There is no point in escaping, she is the queen she will go to extreme lengths to get you back! So when you finally resigned to your fate and tried to have some serious discussions with Nia about boundaries and the terms of your marriage she would always find a way to change the topic, or brush your concerns off.

By now you’ve decided that the only way Nia would ever listen to you is by not talking to her. You’ve made up your mind! For however long it will take you, you refused to speak to her, to even utter a single meep, you even started to pretend like you were too busy to spend time with her at times. And it ruined Nia, she would beg and beg for even a tiny hum! Usually you would contribute to whatever thought she would blurt out but even when she mentioned your favorite topic you would not budge!

That led to today, where you and your wife sat at one of the vast gardens in Khas.  picnic blanket under you and pastries and tea in front of you. You sat straight, criss-cross applesauce style. While Nia was lying flat on her stomach, her head held by her hands. “Why are you ignoring meee?” Nia whined, looking up at her stunning lover, wondering what she’s done wrong. Nia tried her best to provide you with the most expensive of jewelry, clothing, supplies for your hobbies, and refused to do any work until you speak to her. Not like that changed anything because she’d only sign less than 5 documents in a good month.

Strange sight to see the Queen pleading and begging her spouse to speak with her. “Please… I’m sorry… Please talk to me, tell me what I did, I want to apologize, please, please, please-” And she goes on and on. Over the weeks of your silence you’ve gotten used to it, but even if you hated to admit it you missed yapping away with her. So you turned to her, your eyes locked, and she bounced up, sitting straight, Nia grabbed your hands. “Yes!! Say something! PLEASE!”

You inhaled, closing your eyes, you finally decided to say something. “I wa-” Only for- “Oh my goodness, thank heavens you spoke! I’ve missed your voice so much! Okay now did you know what Lady Aria said to me the other day? And you better respond to me!” There really was no way to win. You just had to deal with her nonsense and slowly lead her to understand your boundaries physically somehow.

Sigh. “Yes, dear, what did she say?” Nia squealed and laid her head on your lap, forcing you to massage her scalp as she went on with her stories.

[rafesapologist]

the setback ─ rafe cameron; part twelve

summary: it's been two years since your departure from the outer banks and rafe cameron has seemingly convinced himself that he can go on with his life as if you never happened, except now more than ever his addiction is at an all time high. whether he was snorting lines of cocaine at wild parties or drowning himself in alcohol to numb the pain, rafe couldn't escape the memories of you. despite his efforts to bury his feelings, your absence lingered like a shadow, haunting him at every turn. meanwhile, you've been navigating life outside the outer banks, trying to carve out a new path for yourself. but no matter how far you've traveled, the memories of rafe cameron still linger in your heart, leaving you with a sense of unfinished business. as you find yourself facing new challenges and opportunities, you can't help but wonder if fate will eventually bring you back to the place where it all began.

warnings: swearing, fighting, sort of drowning ??, mentions of alcohol use

author's note: cue the bridge of 'strangers' by ethel cain

You felt the weight of Rafe's footsteps closing in behind you, his urgent calls slicing through the rainy night air. With every step he took, your resolve wavered, torn between the desire to keep running and the need to confront the turmoil swirling inside you.

But as his pleas grew more desperate, something in you snapped. You couldn't bear to hear any more, to face the reality of what you had just witnessed. So, with a heavy heart and trembling hands, you stopped in your tracks and turned to face him.

Rafe skidded to a halt just a few feet away, his breath ragged and his expression a mix of desperation and remorse. Raindrops clung to his disheveled hair and streamed down his face, mirroring the turmoil in his eyes.

"Y/n, please," he gasped between breaths, his voice raw with emotion. "I need you to listen to me."

"I came here because I broke up with JJ! Okay?" The words spilled from your lips, laced with frustration and anguish. "I broke up with him for you. But apparently, that was another stupid fucking mistake of mine, because you still want your cake and to eat it too!"

Your voice cracked with emotion, the torrent of feelings threatening to consume you whole. You shoved him back, your palms trembling with the force of your despair. The distance between you stretched like an unbridgeable chasm, a stark reminder of the fractures in your once-unbreakable bond.

Rafe staggered back, his eyes wide with disbelief and remorse. Raindrops glistened on his lashes, mingling with the sheen of regret that clouded his gaze. He reached out, a desperate plea in his outstretched hand, but you recoiled, your heart aching with a pain too profound to bear.

Your voice wavered with raw emotion, each word a dagger thrust into the heart of your despair. Tears blurred your vision, but you refused to look away, your gaze locked with Rafe's as you bared your soul to him.

"And I'm a fucking idiot, I guess, for even coming back here in the first place!" The words tumbled from your lips, laced with self-recrimination and regret. Your chest heaved with the weight of your confession, the ache of your fractured heart laid bare for all to see.

You struggled to maintain your composure, the anguish clawing at your throat as you fought to keep the tears at bay. But the pain was too great, the memories too potent, and soon, your resolve crumbled beneath the weight of your sorrow.

"I get it. I fucked up. I ruined your trust and I lied to you," you continued, your voice trembling with the weight of your admission. "But at least I didn't..." You choked on your words, the bitterness rising like bile in your throat, "I didn't lie when I said that I loved you." Your finger quivered as you pointed it accusingly at Rafe, the gesture a tangible manifestation of your anguish and frustration. In that moment, you laid bare your heart, your vulnerability a testament to the depth of your feelings for him.

But as the rain continued to fall, washing away the remnants of your shattered resolve, you knew that the wounds inflicted upon your fragile bond may never fully heal. And as you stood there, locked in a silent battle of wills, you couldn't help but wonder if love alone was enough to bridge the chasm that now yawned between you and Rafe.

Rafe's voice cut through the storm like a beacon of clarity, his words a plea wrapped in desperation and longing. The rain poured down around you, a relentless torrent that mirrored the tumult of your emotions as you stood there, locked in a silent battle of wills.

His grip on your wrist was firm, a tangible anchor in the tempest of your despair. You could feel the warmth of his touch seeping into your skin, a silent reassurance amidst the chaos that raged within your heart.

"I spent two years thinking I'd never see you again," Rafe's voice wavered with emotion, each word a testament to the depth of his longing, "and you think that I'd ruin my chances with you the second I got you back?"

You recoiled slightly at the force of his words, the sting of betrayal still fresh in your mind. "Then why is she here, Rafe?" Your voice wavered with a mix of anger and hurt, the turmoil of your emotions bubbling to the surface.

Rafe's shoulders slumped in defeat, his gaze falling to the ground as he ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "Because, y/n!" His voice rose with frustration, a raw edge creeping into his tone. "I called her over because I was trying to break up with her!"

The words hung between you like a heavy fog, thick with tension and unresolved emotions. As you stood there, grappling with the weight of his confession, you couldn't help but feel the ground shift beneath your feet, uncertainty clouding your thoughts as you struggled to make sense of it all.

You looked at him with your eyes wide, taken aback by his testament. Part of you felt confused, wondering how something allegedly so simple could get so mixed up, while the other half of you wasn't ready to let your guard down.

"Why would you do that, Rafe?" you asked, your voice betraying a mixture of disbelief and vulnerability. You searched his eyes for some semblance of truth amidst the chaos of conflicting emotions, hoping to find a shred of sincerity in his explanation.

You looked at him, the rain cascading down around you, each drop adding to the tension in the air. His expression was raw, his frustration evident in the way his brows furrowed and his jaw tensed. Despite the anger simmering beneath the surface, there was a vulnerability in his eyes that mirrored your own.

Rafe took a step closer, his hand still gripping your wrist gently, as if he feared you might slip away if he let go. His voice was strained, laced with desperation and sincerity as he tried to explain himself.

"I called her over because I realized that I couldn't be with her, not when my heart was still with you," he admitted, his words hanging in the air like a confession. "not when you're standing right in front of me for the first time in years after thinking I had lost you for good."

His admission echoed in the space between you, carrying the weight of years of separation and longing. You felt the weight of his words settle over you, the realization dawning that perhaps there was more to his actions than met the eye.

For a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you standing in the midst of the storm once again. The rain continued to pour, a relentless backdrop to the emotions swirling between you.

"I… I didn't know," you confessed softly, your voice barely audible over the sound of the rain. "I didn't know you felt that strongly."

There was a vulnerability in your admission, a crack in the armor you had built around yourself. You had spent so long trying to convince yourself that you were over him, that seeing him again wouldn't affect you. But now, faced with the truth of his feelings, you couldn't deny the lingering ache in your own heart.

His words pierced through the walls you'd built around your heart, making you realize how deeply you still cared for him. The rain pelted down harder, soaking you both to the bone, but neither of you seemed to notice. You were lost in the intensity of the moment, the world around you fading into the background.

Rafe's eyes, filled with anguish and sincerity, bore into yours as he pointed to his chest, his voice breaking. "I have never once stopped loving you," he confessed, each word laced with a raw, painful honesty. "I-I was miserable here without you, y/n." His voice broke as he frantically pointed his pointer finger into his chest, expressing his dismay.

You felt your own chest tighten with emotion, the tears mixing with the rain on your face. "Rafe," you began, your voice trembling as you reached out to him, "I… I didn't know. I thought you had moved on. I thought I was just a part of your past."

He shook his head vehemently, taking a step closer to you, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. "You were never just a part of my past," he whispered, his thumb brushing away a tear. "You are my everything. I thought about you every single day, wishing things had been different."

Your breath hitched at his touch, the familiar warmth of his hand bringing back a flood of memories. "I never stopped loving you either," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I was scared, Rafe. Scared of getting hurt again and hurting you. I was afraid to come back here and be faced with what happened between us."

Rafe's expression softened, his thumb continuing to caress your cheek. "I know, y/n. I know I hurt you before, we hurt each other, but I swear, I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you let me."

There was desperation in his eyes as he stared down at you, ignoring the droplets of rain that fell down his face. His mouth stayed agape as he breathed heavily, his emotions weighing down on him as he waited for your reply. "We have to stop hurting each other, Rafe," you said, your voice trembling with a mix of determination and vulnerability.

Rafe's expression softened, and he nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. "I know," he replied, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't want to hurt you anymore. I want to be the person who makes you happy, the person you can trust. I-I can do that, y/n."

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on you. "It's not going to be easy," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Not everyone is gonna agree with us being together."

Rafe's eyes softened, and he nodded slowly, understanding the gravity of your words. "I know," he replied, his voice steady. "But I don't care what they think. This is about us, not them."

"I'm scared, Rafe. My friends are the only family I've had my entire life," you averted your gaze to the ground, taking in a deep breath. The weight of your words hung in the air, a confession of the fear that gripped your heart.

Rafe squeezed your hand gently, his thumb brushing soothing circles on your skin. "I understand," he said softly, his voice filled with empathy. "But you don't have to choose between them and me. We'll find a way to make this work."

You looked up at him, searching his eyes for reassurance. "What if they can't accept us? What if I lose them?"

Rafe's expression was earnest, his gaze unwavering. "If they really care about you, they'll understand eventually. It might take time, but they'll see how much we mean to each other."

"But what about you?" you asked, peering up at him.

"What about me?" he replied, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"I mean, you aren't a huge fan of my friends either," you said, your voice tinged with worry. "How are you going to handle that?"

Rafe sighed, running a hand through his wet hair. "Yeah. I'm not their biggest fan, and they're definitely not mine. But if being with you means I have to make some type of peace with them, then I'll try. For you."

You bit your lip, feeling a mix of relief and concern. "It won't be easy, Rafe. They're protective of me, and they have every reason to be wary of you."

"I know," Rafe admitted, his voice steady. "But I'm willing to put in the effort. I just need them to see that I've changed, and that I care about you."

Just as the tension had settled and you and Rafe stood there, gazing at each other with a resolution easing your worry, Sophia emerged from the house, her arms crossed and her expression stormy. The rain had begun to pour more heavily, each drop like a drumbeat on the roof and the ground around you. "What the hell is going on here?" she demanded, her voice slicing through the rain-soaked air like a knife.

You turned to face her, your heart sinking at the sight of her anger and confusion. Her eyes were wide with disbelief, flicking between you and Rafe as if trying to piece together a puzzle that didn’t make sense. Rafe stepped forward, his posture tense but resolute. "Sophia, I told you to wait in the house," he said, his voice strained with the weight of the situation.

"I don't care," she shot back, her voice trembling with hurt and frustration. "So, what's this? Are you two messing around behind my back or something?"

You swallowed hard, the rain mingling with the tears you hadn’t realized had started to fall. "Sophia, this is complicated," you began, your voice almost drowned out by the downpour. "Rafe and I... we have a lot of history."

"History?" she echoed, incredulous and bitter. "Is that what we're calling it now?"

Rafe had a subtle glare on his face at Sophia's remark, feeling a sense of defensiveness over you. You were perfectly capable of handling your own, that he knew, but this was his mess to begin with, and he wasn't going to let her get to you so easily. "Knock it off, Soph. Don't go starting shit," he said, his tone firm and unwavering.

Sophia's eyes flashed with anger, her arms tightening around her body as if to protect herself from the emotional storm that was brewing. "Starting shit? Really, Rafe? You're the one who is supposed to be with me, not her."

You felt a pang of guilt at her words but stood your ground, meeting her gaze with as much strength as you could muster. "Sophia, I didn't come here to cause problems. I just needed to talk to Rafe."

Sophia let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "Talk? Really? You waltz back into town and expect everything to just fall into place?"

"Sophia, I said cut it out. We can talk in a minute," Rafe insisted, his voice firm but edged with frustration.

Sophia's eyes narrowed, her stance rigid with defiance. "No, Rafe. You need to get this little bitch out of here or else."

"Or else what?" you asked, stepping forward, your voice steady despite the tension radiating from Sophia.

She crossed her arms tightly, her gaze flickering between you and Rafe. "Or else I make sure everyone knows what kind of person you really are. You think you can just come back here and ruin everything? Rafe is with me." Sophia's words sliced through the tension like a knife, her voice dripping with venomous intent. You felt a surge of frustration and disbelief rising within you, but you forced yourself to stay calm, meeting her gaze squarely.

"Do whatever you want, Sophia. I didn't come back here to play games with you, so get over yourself," you retorted, your voice firm and unwavering.

Sophia's words dripped with venom as she leveled her gaze at you, her tone laced with a vindictive edge. "Just wait and see, y/n. I'll make you choke on your words."

Rafe's voice cut through the tension like a sharp blade, his tone laced with frustration and authority, "Just go away, Sophia! I'm not dealing with your shit right now!"

His words echoed in the empty space around you, the force behind them enough to make Sophia falter for a moment. She recoiled slightly, her features contorting into a mixture of shock and indignation, her eyes blazing with defiance. For a brief moment, it seemed as though she might retort, but the steel in Rafe's gaze made it abundantly clear that he wouldn't tolerate any further defiance.

With a resentful glare, Sophia finally relented, shooting one last venomous look at you before turning on her heel and storming off. The sound of her footsteps echoed angrily on the wet pavement as she disappeared from sight, leaving behind a palpable sense of relief in her wake.

As Sophia vanished into the distance, the tension in the air began to dissipate, replaced by a heavy silence broken only by the soft patter of raindrops against the ground. Rafe's shoulders slumped slightly as he let out a heavy sigh, the weight of the confrontation evident in the weary lines of his face.

Turning back to you, his gaze softened, filled with a mixture of gratitude and apology. "I'm sorry you had to deal with that," he said, his voice tinged with regret. "She's... she's not easy to handle."

"it's okay," you shook your head as you ran a hand through your hair, "i should get going. this has been the longest night ever and i'm tired."

Rafe's shoulders slumped slightly, a mix of emotions flickering across his face. "Yeah, I guess we both need some rest," he replied, stepping closer to you. His hand extended tentatively, as if he wanted to offer comfort, but he hesitated, eventually letting it fall back to his side. "I'll see you later, yeah?"

As Rafe's lips touched your hair, a shiver ran down your spine, but not from the cold rain. It was a bittersweet moment, filled with tenderness and longing. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to savor the fleeting warmth before pulling away reluctantly. "Goodnight, Rafe," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the rain.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Days had passed since your altercation with Sophia at Rafe's house, yet your mind still played over the events incessantly, haunted by her threats and what weight they held. You managed to keep your distance from JJ in attempts to make the breakup easier on him, since it definitely wasn’t easy going through a breakup with someone you basically live with. You kept yourself busy with chores around the house and visiting Sarah whenever you felt the weight of the situation pressing too hard on your shoulders.

Each time you caught sight of JJ in the Chateau, your heart twisted with guilt and sadness. His once bright and carefree demeanor seemed clouded with a hint of bitterness, and you couldn’t help but feel responsible for the change. It hurt you deeply to see him this way, knowing that your choices had contributed to his pain.

You kept yourself busy and out of JJ's way, spending most of your time either in your room or spending time solely with Kiara and Sarah instead. Aside from a few awkward encounters, things were civil between you and JJ, although he had yet to have any idea that you were in contact with Rafe, which would've waged an even bigger war than you could handle.

One evening, Kiara came bursting into your room while you and Sarah were binge-watching some dumb reality TV show. She had a giant grin on her face, her excitement practically radiating off her.

"Guys, what would you say if I suggested we go to a pool party?" she smirked, her statement causing both you and Sarah to sit up straight.

"Whose?" you asked, intrigued by her sudden enthusiasm.

"Some touron I met at the Wreck today," Kiara replied, her grin widening. "Apparently, his family owns this huge vacation house he hosts parties at every summer."

Sarah's eyes lit up with excitement. "A pool party sounds like just what we need! We've been cooped up here way too long."

You felt a flicker of excitement too, though it was tinged with apprehension. "Do you think it'll be fun? I mean, it's not like we know anyone there."

"That's the best part," Kiara said, plopping down on the bed next to you. "It's a chance to meet new people, have some fun, and maybe forget about all the drama for a while. Come on, we could all use a break."

Sarah nudged you playfully. "She's right. Plus, it'll be good for you to get out and enjoy yourself. You've been through a lot lately."

You sighed, considering their words. The idea of a carefree night sounded appealing, especially after everything that had happened with JJ and Rafe. Maybe a pool party was exactly what you needed to clear your head and have a little fun.

"Okay," you finally agreed, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Let's do it."

"Yes!" Kiara exclaimed, jumping up with excitement. "It's going to be awesome. Trust me."

The three of you spent the next hour getting ready, picking out your best swimsuits and summer outfits. Kiara helped you choose a flattering bikini, and Sarah lent you a cute cover-up. You all spent time perfecting your looks, experimenting with different hairstyles and makeup.

You stood in front of your mirror with a newfound sense of confidence, admiring your reflection. The dark red string bikini hugged your curves perfectly, and the two low ponytails on each side added a playful touch to your look. As you observed yourself, you couldn't help but wonder for a moment what Rafe would think if he saw you right now. The thought of him seeing you like this, rather than random men at some party, sent a shiver down your spine.

You turned slightly, checking out your outfit from different angles, feeling both bold and a little nervous. The bikini was daring, more revealing than anything you’d worn in a while, and the ponytails gave you a youthful, carefree appearance. It was exactly the look you needed for tonight—a night where you intended to leave all your worries behind and just have fun.

"Looking good," Kiara's voice broke through your thoughts. She stood in the doorway, already dressed in a vibrant blue swimsuit that complemented her tan. "I'd definitely hit on you if I was a dude."

You chuckled, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. "Thanks, Kie. I needed that."

"Seriously, though," she continued, stepping into the room and giving you an approving once-over. "You look amazing. Ready to turn some heads tonight?"

"I hope so," you replied, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. "I just... I hope I can have fun and forget about everything for a while."

Kiara nodded understandingly. "That's the plan. Now, let's go make some memories."

Sarah popped her head in the door, her eyes widening with approval as she took in your outfit. "Damn, y/n! You look incredible. We’re definitely going to turn heads tonight."

"Thanks, Sarah," you said, feeling a surge of confidence. "Let's get going!"

The three of you left the room, chatting excitedly about the party and what you hoped to experience. As you arrived at the vacation house, the sound of music and laughter filled the air, much louder than you had anticipated. The house was even more impressive than Kiara had described, with a sprawling backyard, a sparkling pool, and twinkling lights hanging from the trees. The party was already in full swing, with people mingling, dancing, and lounging by the pool.

"Wow," Sarah breathed, taking it all in. "This place is incredible."

You found a table near the pool and placed your things down, feeling the energy of the party wash over you. The music was loud, the air was warm, and for the first time in a while, you felt a sense of freedom.

"Hey, you wanna get a drink?" Kiara asked, nudging you playfully.

"Sure," you replied, following her to the bar set up on the patio. You ordered a fruity cocktail and took a sip, savoring the sweet and tangy flavors.

"It's hot, I'm gonna get in the pool!" Sarah yelled to both of you over the music, her enthusiasm cutting through the night. She took off running, wasting no time before diving into the lit-up pool a few feet away. Her laughter mingled with the splashes as she joined the others already swimming.

"She's wild," Kiara chuckled, shaking her head. "I don't think even John B can tame her."

You laughed, watching Sarah splash around. "Yeah, she's got a spirit that's hard to pin down."

Kiara nudged you playfully. "What about you? Are you going to join her or stay here and keep me company?"

You considered Kiara's question for a moment, debating between another drink or getting into the pool. The cool water looked inviting, but you felt like you needed a bit more time to settle in and get comfortable with the party's atmosphere. Besides, a little more liquid courage couldn't hurt.

"I think I'll grab another drink first," you decided with a grin.

Kiara nodded, her eyes twinkling. "Good call. Let's get something strong!"

You both made your way to the other bar set up in a corner of the yard. It was a makeshift setup, but it was stocked with an impressive variety of drinks. The bartender, a guy around your age with a friendly smile, greeted you as you approached.

"What can I get for you ladies?" he asked, wiping down the counter.

Kiara leaned in, eyeing the selection. "Two margaritas, please. Extra strong."

You chuckled at her enthusiasm. "Yeah, extra strong sounds good."

As the bartender mixed your drinks, you glanced around, taking in the scene. The party was in full swing, with people dancing, chatting, and laughing. The air was filled with the scent of chlorine from the pool, mixed with the aroma of grilled food from a nearby barbecue. Strings of fairy lights twinkled above, casting a warm glow over everything.

The bartender handed you your drinks, and you took a sip, savoring the tart, refreshing flavor. "Perfect," you said, raising your glass to Kiara.

"To a night of fun and forgetting all our worries," Kiara toasted, clinking her glass against yours.

You both took long sips, the alcohol warming you from the inside out. As you chatted with Kiara, you felt the tension of the past few days start to melt away. It was good to be surrounded by friends, to let loose and enjoy the moment.

Just as you were starting to relax, your phone buzzed in your pocket. You pulled it out and saw a text from Rafe: "Can we talk?"

Your heart skipped a beat. You hadn't seen or spoken to Rafe since the confrontation with Sophia, and you were still processing everything that had happened. But part of you was also eager to hear what he had to say.

Kiara noticed the change in your expression. "Everything okay?"

You brushed off Kiara's concern and maintained your composure, not wanting her to worry. "It's nothing, just my boss texting me about work," you said with a reassuring smile. Kiara gave you a curious look but didn't press further, allowing you to keep your thoughts to yourself.

Once you were sure she had bought your story, you quickly typed a reply to Rafe, asking, "What's up?" and hit send. The party continued to buzz around you, with music thumping and people laughing, but your mind was now focused on your phone.

Your heart skipped a beat as Rafe's message popped up on your screen almost immediately.

"I saw you were here at the party. I need to see you." You read it over, feeling a rush of emotions flooding through you. Despite the lively atmosphere of the party, you suddenly felt a wave of nervousness wash over you.

You quickly glanced around, checking to see if anyone was paying attention to you. Kiara was engaged in conversation with a group of people across the pool, and Sarah was nowhere in sight. Taking a deep breath, you typed out a response to Rafe: "Okay, where are you?"

His reply came almost immediately: "By the keg near the pool."

Your pulse quickened as you read the message. Without another thought, you excused yourself from the conversation with Kiara, making up some excuse about needing some fresh air.

Your heart raced as you walked around the yard, your eyes scanning the lively scene for the keg by the pool. The lump in your throat tightened with each step, the thought of being face-to-face with Rafe for the first time in days overwhelming your senses. You knew you couldn't hide from him forever, and brushing your feelings away wasn't an option anymore.

The music thumped in the background, a heavy bass line that seemed to sync with your racing heartbeat. The partygoers were lost in their own worlds, laughter and chatter filling the air, but your mind was solely focused on Rafe. You needed to confront your emotions, no matter how daunting the prospect seemed.

As you approached the pool, you spotted the keg, a small group gathered around it. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the inevitable encounter. The pool's surface shimmered under the party lights, creating a surreal, almost dreamlike atmosphere. You grabbed a plastic cup, filled it with beer, and took a long sip, hoping to calm your nerves.

Just then, you felt a presence beside you. Turning slightly, you saw Rafe standing there, his expression unreadable. The air seemed to thicken around you, the noise of the party fading into the background as your eyes locked onto his.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice barely audible over the music.

"Hey," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the tumultuous emotions swirling inside you.

Rafe took a step closer, his gaze intense. "I had no idea you'd be here. Who'd you come with?"

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves as you met Rafe's gaze. His presence was overwhelming, and the intensity in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine. You could feel the weight of his question, and for a moment, the noise of the party seemed to fade into the background.

"I came with Kiara and Sarah," you replied, your voice steady but quiet. "I guess Kiara met this guy while she was working the Wreck and he invited her, so she asked us to come."

Rafe nodded, his expression softening slightly, though there was still a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. "I didn't expect to see you here," he admitted, his voice low. "I thought these parties weren't your thing."

You shrugged, trying to play it off casually despite the pounding of your heart. "They're not, really. But I needed a distraction." You glanced around, avoiding his gaze. "Things have been... complicated."

Rafe nodded, his eyes tauntingly flickering back and forth between yours as he observed the features of your face intently. "I get it," he swallowed hard, his jaw clenching for a mere second. "I just... really needed to see you. I haven't heard from you since the other day."

You felt a pang of guilt as you heard the raw vulnerability in his voice. "I'm sorry, Rafe. It's not you.. It's just been hard dealing with the whole JJ thing."

Rafe took a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "I understand. I just... I can't stand the thought of losing you again."

You glanced down at your hands, twisting them nervously. "It's just so complicated. With JJ, with Sophia, with everything."

Rafe stepped closer, his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. The contact sent a shiver down your spine, your skin tingling where he touched you. "I know it's complicated. But you don't have to worry about anything. I—I've got this thing figured out."

You looked up at him, your eyes searching his face for any sign of uncertainty. "How can you be so sure?" you asked, your voice wavering.

Rafe's hand lingered on your cheek, his thumb tracing a gentle path along your skin. "Because I know what I want," he said firmly. "And I want you. I've spent too much time regretting what happened between us to let anything come between us now."

The sincerity in his voice made your heart ache. You wanted to believe him, to trust that he had everything under control, but the events of the past few days had left you feeling vulnerable and uncertain. "It's just... Sophia made some threats. I don't want to make things harder for you."

Rafe's jaw tightened at the mention of Sophia. "I'll handle Sophia," he said, his voice resolute. "She doesn't get to decide our future, and she sure as hell isn't going to lay a hand on you."

You nodded slowly, feeling a mix of relief and apprehension. "I just don't want to cause more problems."

"You're not causing problems," Rafe insisted, his eyes locking onto yours with a fierce determination. "We're in this together. Nobody is gonna do shit to you, I promise."

His words, filled with conviction, sent a surge of warmth through you. You looked up at him, your eyes searching his face, trying to gauge just how much he meant it. The intensity in his gaze left little doubt.

"But what about Sophia?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. "She seemed pretty determined to make trouble."

Rafe shook his head, a determined set to his jaw. "I'll handle Sophia. She doesn't get to decide how this goes. This is between you and me."

You nodded, but before you could respond, you heard an unfortunately familiar voice come up from behind Rafe. "Rafe! Come on, we're doing shots." You saw a tall blond boy approach, his presence cutting through the moment you were sharing with Rafe. It was Topper.

You rolled your eyes, glaring up at him with annoyance evident on your face. "Oh hey, y/n," Topper greeted, a smirk playing on his lips. "Didn't think I'd see you here."

"Topper," you replied curtly, crossing your arms. "Always a pleasure."

Rafe sighed, clearly frustrated by the interruption. "Top, not now," he said, glancing over his shoulder. "We're kind of in the middle of something."

Topper raised an eyebrow, looking between the two of you. "Middle of what? You know what, never mind," he shrugged, not really waiting for an answer. "We're about to do shots by the pool. You coming or what?"

You looked over at Rafe with a shrug. "You should go. I need to see Sarah and Kiara before they think I got lost anyways. I'll catch you before I leave."

Rafe hesitated, his eyes searching yours for a moment longer before he nodded. "Alright, but don't forget. We still need to talk."

"I won't forget," you promised, offering him a small smile.

As Rafe turned to rejoin Topper by the pool, you took a deep breath and made your way through the crowd, searching for Sarah and Kiara. The party was in full swing, the music loud and the air thick with laughter and chatter. It didn't take long to spot Sarah, her blonde hair glistening under the colorful lights as she danced by the pool.

"Hey! There you are," Sarah called out when she saw you, waving you over. "We were starting to wonder where you went."

Kiara, standing beside Sarah with a drink in hand, gave you a knowing look. "Yeah, you disappeared on us. Everything okay?"

You nodded, forcing a smile as you joined them. "Yeah, everything's fine. Just work stuff."

Sarah arched an eyebrow, clearly not buying it but choosing not to press the issue. "Well, we're glad you're back. Come on, let's dance!"

As Sarah pulled you onto the makeshift dance floor, Kiara gave you a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "If you need to talk, we're here," she said softly, her eyes full of understanding.

You nodded gratefully, allowing yourself to get lost in the music for a while. It was a welcome distraction, the beat of the music and the energy of the party temporarily pushing aside the turmoil in your mind.

After a few songs, you excused yourself to get another drink. As you made your way to the keg, you couldn't help but glance around, wondering where Rafe was and what he was doing. The thought of your earlier conversation lingered in your mind, and you knew that talking to him later was inevitable.

You reached the keg and got a drink, taking a moment to compose yourself. As you took a sip, you felt a presence beside you. Turning, you were met with the face of the last person you wanted to see—Sophia. Shock registered on your face as you took in the sight of her standing there, her expression unreadable.

"Sophia," you said, your voice betraying your surprise and confusion.

She looked at you with a mix of amusement and disdain. "What, surprised to see me here?" she asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. "What do you want, Sophia?"

She took a step closer, invading your personal space. "I want you to know that I'm not backing down," she said, her eyes narrowing. "Rafe might be playing his little games, but I'm not going to let you waltz back into his life and mess things up."

You felt a surge of anger rise within you. "This isn't a game to me, Sophia. I care about Rafe. This isn't about winning or losing."

Sophia scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "You're so naive. Do you really think you can just come back here and everything will be fine? Rafe's moved on. Maybe you should too."

You clenched your jaw, trying to keep your composure. "You don't know anything about what Rafe and I have been through."

"Maybe not," she admitted with a smirk. "But I do know that I'm not going anywhere. So you'd better watch your back."

You furrowed your brows at her, scoffing with unamusement. "I'm not doing this with you, Sophia. I don't care about whatever scheme you have planned in your head. I have bigger things to worry about than your stupid shit—"

Before you could finish your sentence, you felt a force shove you backwards, and before you knew it, you were submerged underwater. The shock of the cold water took your breath away, and you instinctively swallowed a large gulp of water, panic flooding your senses. You flailed, struggling to find the surface, but the initial shock had disoriented you.

The sounds of the party were muted, distorted by the water around you. Your lungs burned as you kicked and pushed, desperately trying to reach the surface. Just as you came in and out of consciousness, you suddenly felt as if you were floating out of the water, lifted up in the arms of someone unknown as your vision was completely blacked out and hazy.

Your senses were disoriented, the once vibrant lights of the party now mere blurs in the darkness. The muffled sounds of laughter and music faded into a distant hum as you felt yourself being carried away from the chaos. The cold air stung your wet skin, but the strong, steady arms around you provided a strange sense of comfort amidst the confusion.

As the hands pressed urgently against your chest, you struggled to focus, the sounds around you muffled and distant. The voice calling out to you seemed to echo in your ears, but you couldn't quite grasp onto it.

You felt yourself slipping further into darkness, the sensation of drowning still haunting your senses. Panic surged through you as you tried to respond, but your body felt heavy and unresponsive.

Suddenly, a sharp intake of breath pierced the fog in your mind, followed by the urgent sound of footsteps approaching. Through the haze, you saw blurry figures leaning over you, their features distorted.

"Y/n, hey, hey. Stay with me, alright? C'mon!" The voice was urgent, tinged with desperation. It sounded familiar, a lifeline in the suffocating darkness.

Rafe's voice cut through the confusion like a blade, sharp with anger and urgency. "Who the fuck did this?" he demanded, his tone commanding attention as he scanned the crowd, his gaze piercing through the chaos. You felt a surge of relief at his presence, his strong hand gripping yours tightly as if to reassure you of his protective stance. Through the haze of your mind, you strained to focus on his words, the anger in his voice resonating deep within you.

As the onlookers murmured in response to Rafe's question, his grip on your hand tightened, his eyes blazing with a fierce determination. You could sense the fury simmering beneath his calm exterior, a storm waiting to be unleashed upon whoever was responsible for your distress.

With effort, you managed to muster the strength to speak, your voice trembling with the weight of your accusation. "Sophia," you managed to croak out, the name heavy on your tongue as you met Rafe's gaze with a mix of frustration and defiance.

Rafe's expression darkened at the mention of her name, his jaw clenched in barely contained rage. "I'll deal with her," he vowed, his voice a low growl that brooked no argument.

Rafe's eyes narrowed as he caught sight of Sophia behind him, her smug expression etched into his mind like a brand. "You did this!" he bellowed, his accusation slicing through the air like a blade. His gaze bore into Sophia's, a mixture of fury and disbelief burning in his eyes.

Sophia's smirk only widened as she shrugged nonchalantly, taking a casual sip of her drink. "Oops, clumsy me," she taunted, her voice laced with sarcasm as she feigned innocence.

The veins in Rafe's neck bulged with fury, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. His entire body quivered with suppressed rage, the intensity of his anger palpable in the air around him. "Don't you dare fucking touch her ever again," he spat, his voice low and dangerous. "Matter of fact, don't even come near her or I'll make this whole island hell for you."

His words hung in the air like a threat, each syllable dripping with the promise of retribution. The ferocity in his gaze bore into Sophia, leaving no room for doubt that he meant every word he said. Sophia's smirk faltered, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her features as she recoiled slightly from Rafe's simmering rage. For a brief moment, the facade of arrogance crumbled, revealing the underlying fear beneath.

But just as quickly, Sophia regained her composure, masking her unease with a defiant glare. "C'mon, Rafe," she retorted, though the tremor in her voice betrayed her bravado. "You don't need that dirty pogue weighing you down for the rest of your life. she doesn't even have a family for fuck sake!" Her words cut through the air like a knife, each syllable laced with venom. Her attempt to undermine you was evident in the contemptuous tone of her voice, but beneath the surface bravado, there was a hint of insecurity.

Rafe's jaw tightened at her words, his fists clenching even harder at his sides as he turned to face her. "Don't you dare talk about her like that," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "She's worth more than you ever wish you could be." His words echoed with a fierce protectiveness, a stark contrast to the venom in Sophia's tone. The intensity of his gaze bore into her, daring her to challenge him further.

But Sophia recoiled, her facade of confidence faltering in the face of Rafe's unwavering resolve. For a moment, she was silenced by his unwavering defense of you, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her features before she masked it with a defiant sneer.

"How could you choose her, Rafe? She left you! I was there when she wasn't, remember? I was there for you, asshole!" Sophia's voice rose in pitch, her frustration and bitterness palpable in every word. Her attempt to discredit you and manipulate Rafe's emotions was evident in the desperation of her tone, but her words only served to further ignite the fire within him.

Rafe turned to face Sophia once more, his expression hardened with resolve. "Yeah, and if she never left I would've never been with you. I will always choose her." His words cut through the tension like a knife, his resolve unwavering as he reaffirmed his loyalty to you. The weight of his declaration hung heavily in the air, a testament to the depth of his feelings and the strength of your connection.

Sophia flinched, her front crumbling as his words pierced through her defenses. In that moment, she realized that she was fighting a losing battle, her attempts to sway Rafe futile against the unwavering bond he shared with you.

Sophia's hands clenched into fists at her sides, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. She looked at Rafe with a mix of hurt and anger, her eyes flashing with betrayal. "You promised me, Rafe," she accused, her voice trembling with emotion. "You said we were in this together, that you loved me."

But Rafe's expression remained resolute, his jaw set in determination. "I know what I said, Sophia," he replied evenly, his voice steady despite the turmoil around them. "But things have changed. I can't keep pretending that this is what I want."

Sophia's tears spilled over, her resolve crumbling as she stared at Rafe with desperate pleading. "Please, Rafe," she begged, her voice choked with emotion. "Don't do this to me. Don't leave me."

But Rafe stood his ground, his gaze unwavering as he gently shook his head. "No, Soph," he said softly, his tone filled with regret. "But I have to do what's right for me."

Sophia's tears streamed down her cheeks as she looked around the party, her face a mix of embarrassment and shame. Disbelief was etched across her features, her mouth agape as she blinked rapidly, trying to process the situation. "Okay," she nodded slowly, her voice breaking with a sniffle. "Yeah. That's fine, it's not like I wasted two years of my life on you or anything."

Rafe's expression softened, guilt flickering in his eyes as he took in the depth of her hurt. "Sophia, I never meant for it to end like this," he said, his voice low and remorseful. "I did care about you, but I can't keep lying to myself or to you."

Sophia shook her head, tears still flowing. "Just... go to her, Rafe," she said bitterly, wiping her face with the back of her hand. "You always will anyway."

With that, she turned on her heel and walked away, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs as she pushed through the crowd. Rafe watched her go, a mix of relief and sadness washing over him. He then turned his attention back to you, where you lay on the concrete, his heart aching with the need to make sure you were okay.

"Hey," he whispered, kneeling beside you again, his voice tender and filled with concern. "Are you alright? Can you hear me?"

You nodded weakly, your vision slowly clearing as you looked up at him. The party around you seemed distant, the sounds muffled as you focused on Rafe's face. "I'm okay," you managed to say, your voice hoarse from the ordeal.

Rafe let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, relief flooding through him. "I'm so sorry, y/n," he murmured, gently brushing a strand of wet hair from your face. "I should have been there sooner."

You gave him a small, tired smile, reaching up to touch his hand. "It's okay, Rafe," you said softly. "It's not your fault."

Rafe's eyes softened, his worry evident as he gently helped you sit up. The sounds of the party seemed distant, muted by the intensity of the moment. He sighed, running a hand through his wet hair, clearly struggling with his emotions.

"I'm just glad you're okay," he said, his voice thick with relief. "I was so scared when I saw you go under."

You nodded, still feeling the aftershocks of what had just happened. "I'm okay now," you reassured him, squeezing his hand gently.

Rafe helped you to your feet, keeping a protective arm around you as you stood. You could see the concern in his eyes, mixed with a fierce determination to keep you safe.

"I won't let anyone hurt you again," he vowed, his voice steady and resolute.

Before you could respond, you looked up to see Kiara and Sarah standing in front of you, their faces ridden with shock and concern. Sarah's eyes flickered between you and Kiara, who was clearly piecing things together. Although your mind was still a bit foggy, your heart fell into your stomach as Kiara's confusion turned to suspicion.

"Rafe, what are you doing here?" Kiara asked disgustedly, folding her arms tightly across her chest.

Rafe's protective stance didn't waver. He looked directly at Kiara, his expression a mix of defensiveness and sincerity. "I was here for the party, Kiara. I didn't know y/n would be here," he replied, his voice firm.

Kiara's eyes narrowed as she looked between the two of you, trying to make sense of the situation. "And why are you with him, y/n?" she demanded, her voice tinged with a mixture of betrayal and concern.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself and find the right words. "Kie, it's not like that. He was just helping me—"

"And you let him?" Kiara interrupted, her voice rising in disbelief and hurt. Her arms were still tightly folded across her chest, and her eyes bore into you with an intensity that made you flinch.

Sarah, sensing the rising tension, placed a hand on Kiara's arm. "Let's not do this here," she suggested gently. "Y/n needs to rest. We can talk about this later."

Kiara shoved Sarah's hand off, her attention locked back on you. "No. Why would you even talk to him, y/n? After everything he has done to us? To John B?" Her words hit you like a punch to the gut, the weight of the situation crashing down on you. You could see the hurt and betrayal in Kiara's eyes, and it made your heart ache.

"Kie, it's not that simple," you tried to explain, your voice wavering. "I've been through a lot with Rafe, and we both have things we need to work through. It's complicated."

Kiara's eyes flashed with anger. "Complicated? He's caused so much pain for all of us. You know that better than anyone."

Rafe rolled his eyes, scoffing at Kiara's attitude. "I haven't done shit to you, Kie. And besides, this has nothing to do with you."

Kiara bristled at his words, her jaw clenched in frustration. "Everything has to do with me when it involves my friends," she shot back, her tone sharp. "And last I checked, you've caused plenty of trouble for us."

Rafe shook his head, frustration evident in his voice. "You're holding onto shit that happened two years ago, Kie!"

"Well, it still affects us, Rafe! John B's life is ruined because of you!" Kiara shot back, her tone sharp with accusation.

Your heart raced as you struggled to find the right words to explain the situation, your mind racing with a hundred different thoughts at once. "I know it does, Kiara, but..." you started, your voice trailing off as you searched for the right words to defend yourself.

"But what, y/n?" Kiara's tone was laced with disappointment and frustration. "How could you even think about associating with him after everything he's done? Is that why you broke up with JJ?"

The weight of her accusation hung heavy in the air, and you felt the heat of embarrassment rise to your cheeks as you struggled to find a response. "No, Kiara, it's not like that," you protested, your voice tinged with desperation.

Kiara's expression softened slightly at your words, but her disappointment was still evident in her eyes. "I just... I can't believe you, y/n," she said softly, her voice tinged with sadness as she turned away from you.

"Kie please—" You stared, but before you could finish, Kiara stormed off past you. Sarah shot you a sympathetic "I'm sorry this is happening" look at you before chasing after her. You stood there, the weight of Kiara's words heavy on your heart as you watched her storm off into the crowd. Sarah's sympathetic look only added to the guilt gnawing at your insides, leaving you feeling utterly alone in the midst of the lively party.

Rafe's presence beside you was a small comfort, but even he couldn't chase away the nagging doubts and regrets swirling in your mind. You turned to him, opening your mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, you stood in silence, staring off into the distance as the chaos of the party continued around you.

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