#quiet council drama

[thunderoussupremephoneixtornado]

This will be so relevant to a krakoa era comic I read someday

[elikajinnie]

I Let The World Burn For You - N.R | Part 1

P: Serial Killer!Ni-ki X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Graphic Descriptions, Murder, Manipulation, Attempted Murder, Injury/Blood, Teasing, Angst, Obsessive Behaviour, Mind Games, Ni-ki is a nerd.

Synopsis: You’ve always loved crime shows, captivated by the mystery and mind games, but you never expected to live in one. When a killer develops an unsettling obsession with you, you’re thrust into a deadly game where you’re not just a target—you’re the centerpiece.

Wordcount: 27k

a/n: HELLO! TUMBLR!? Since i cant have more then 1k blocks i had to split this in 2 parts! LET ME WRITE LONG FICS! PLS! ugh.. (i kept replaying the apparation by sleeptoken while writing :p) hope yall enjoy another dark romance with obsessed yet super whipped Ni-ki! ( he kinda a red flag)

See request here

--

You’ve always had a fascination with crime shows. The ones without too many jump scares or unnecessary gore—you could do without that. What hooked you wasn’t the blood or the screams; it was the puzzle. The way the police pieced together scattered fragments of a life, how they followed the tiniest trail of evidence to unravel the truth. Every crime media you could find, you devoured it all.

At school, it wasn’t unusual to find you with your nose buried in a crime or mystery novel. Whether it was during lunch, in the corner of the library, or even in the few precious minutes before class started, the worn pages of your current read were always in your hands. Sherlock Holmes, Agatha Christie, modern thrillers—you read them all.

Your classmates noticed, of course. They’d whisper about it in passing, sometimes teasing you for being "obsessed with murder books." But you didn’t care. If anything, you found their reactions amusing. They didn’t get it, didn’t understand how fascinating it was to try to outsmart the characters or piece together clues before the story revealed its secrets. Even your teachers started catching on. Your literature professor once quipped, “If I ever go missing, I’ll trust you to solve the case,” while glancing at the battered mystery novel lying atop your open notebook.

But it wasn’t just about books or shows anymore. Over time, the skills you picked up seeped into your daily life. You’d notice things—details others overlooked. A friend��s new haircut no one mentioned, the faint smell of smoke lingering on someone’s jacket, or the way people’s stories didn’t quite line up. You’d trained your brain to analyze, to question, to search for answers.

You didn’t really have anyone to share your interest with, but that didn’t bother you much. Most people at school had their own cliques, their own hobbies, and their own little dramas to focus on. You didn’t fit neatly into any of those circles, but you were fine with that.

Besides, there was something satisfying about keeping to yourself. It gave you the freedom to observe without distraction. People-watching became second nature—catching snippets of conversations, noticing who avoided who in the hallways, or piecing together which classmates had paired off in secret. It was like the school was its own crime scene, full of tiny, inconsequential mysteries that no one else even thought to notice.

You had your theories about everyone, from the student council president who always left early on Thursdays to the quiet kid in the back row who seemed to have a different excuse for every missing assignment. None of it was malicious, of course—it was just your way of passing the time.

But every so often, you’d catch someone watching you. A fleeting glance from across the cafeteria or a pair of eyes lingering a little too long in the hallway.

But every time you tried to figure out who it was, the moment would pass too quickly. You’d glance up, scanning the crowd, but no one would be looking your way. It was frustrating in a way that didn’t make sense, like trying to solve a puzzle without all the pieces.

And yet, the gaze itself was never uncomfortable. It didn’t feel like the sharp, judgmental stares you were used to when people whispered about your “murder books.” No, this one was different. It was soft, almost curious, like whoever it was didn’t want to disturb you. Instead of making you uneasy, it left a warmth in its wake, a strange flutter in your chest that lingered long after the moment passed.

You started to notice it more often. In the cafeteria, during assemblies, even on the rare occasions when you’d glance up from your book in the library. It was subtle, just a sense that someone was watching, but every time you turned your head to catch them, they were gone.

It became a mystery of its own, one you couldn’t quite let go of. You tried to piece it together the way you would in a show or a novel. Who sat near you at lunch? Who crossed paths with you between classes? Who could have that kind of presence without you noticing until it was too late?

But no matter how much you thought about it, you came up empty. And the strangest part was, you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to solve it. Because, in some inexplicable way, that gaze felt… safe. Like someone had taken the time to notice you—not as the “girl with the crime books,” but as you.

Still, the curiosity gnawed at you. One day, as you sat in your usual spot by the library window, lost in a particularly tense chapter of your latest read, you felt it again. That quiet, steady gaze, warm and unhurried.

This time, you didn’t look up right away. Instead, you waited, letting the feeling settle over you like a blanket. You turned the page of your book slowly, pretending to stay engrossed, all while your pulse quickened in anticipation.

And then, with deliberate calm, you lifted your head and scanned the room.

At first, it seemed like every other time. Just a sea of faces, none of them focused on you. But then, in the far corner, you caught it—a pair of eyes meeting yours before quickly looking away.

Your heart stuttered. You knew that face.

You knew that face because it belonged to Nishimura Ni-ki. Quiet, unassuming, always with his head buried in a textbook or his notebook. You hadn’t talked much, only exchanging a few words in the classes you shared or the brief, awkward apologies after he accidentally bumped into you in the hallway, scrambling to pick up his scattered books. He wasn’t exactly invisible, but he never drew attention to himself—not in the way others did.

But you also knew him for another reason. Nishimura Ni-ki was the campus prime target for bullying.

You hated seeing it. The way some of the guys would shove him into lockers, muttering cruel things under their breath loud enough for him to hear. The way others would snatch his things, throw them across the hall, or crumple his assignments into balls of paper. Worst of all was the day you saw someone snap his glasses clean in half, right in front of him, leaving him standing there, helpless and humiliated.

Without even thinking, you had stepped in. No hesitation, no second thought—you just swung. Your fist connected with the guy’s face, the sickening crack of his nose breaking echoing in the hallway. Everything had gone silent. People stared as you shook out your knuckles, glaring down at the guy as he clutched his face, blood pouring between his fingers.

Sure, you got suspended for a few days after that, but it had been worth it.

From that day on, you’d kept an eye out—not just for Ni-ki, but for anyone being harassed. You couldn’t stand it, couldn’t stand the way some people seemed to think they had a right to make others miserable just because they could. But with Ni-ki, it was different. Something about the way he’d looked at you that day—wide-eyed, stunned, like he couldn’t quite believe someone had stood up for him—it stuck with you.

After that, you noticed him more often. Sitting alone in the library, his hair falling into his eyes as he scribbled notes. Walking to class with his close-knit group of friends, smiling faintly at something one of them said. And now, you realized, he was quietly watching you.

Your stomach flipped as your eyes locked with his for the briefest moment before he quickly looked away, pretending to focus on the open book in front of him. You hadn’t even realized he knew who you were, let alone that he’d been the one watching you all this time.

For a moment, you sat frozen, unsure what to do. Then, on impulse, you stood up, tucking your book under your arm as you made your way across the library.

Ni-ki didn’t notice you at first. He was scribbling something in the margins of his notebook, his brows furrowed in concentration. But when you stopped in front of his table, he glanced up, and his eyes widened.

“Hey,” you said, keeping your voice low to avoid disturbing the others. “Got room for one more?”

His gaze darted to the empty chair across from him, then back to you. For a moment, he looked like he might say no. But then he nodded, his lips curling into the faintest hint of a smile.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his voice quiet but steady. “Sure.”

You slid into the seat, setting your book down on the table. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching between you like an unspoken question. But it wasn’t awkward. If anything, it felt… comfortable.

You sat there for a while, the silence punctuated only by the faint scratch of Ni-ki’s pencil against his notebook and the soft rustle of turning pages. But your curiosity wouldn’t let you sit still for long. You closed your book, leaning forward slightly.

“Can I ask you something?” you said, keeping your voice low.

Ni-ki looked up from his notes, his pencil pausing mid-word. His expression was cautious, unsure, but he nodded. “Yeah?”

“Why were you looking at me earlier?” you asked, tilting your head slightly. “It’s not the first time, is it?”

His eyes widened, and a faint flush crept up his neck. “Oh, I—uh…” He trailed off, fumbling for words. For a moment, you thought he might brush it off or deny it entirely. But then he exhaled and gave a small, sheepish shrug. “I’ve seen you reading crime novels. A lot. And… I like them too.”

You blinked, surprised. “You do?”

He nodded, glancing down at his notebook like he was embarrassed to admit it. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t talk about it much, but I’ve always been into them. Mysteries, thrillers, true crime… all of it. I guess I just noticed because you’re always reading them too.”

A grin spread across your face before you could stop it. “Seriously? I didn’t think anyone else here cared about that stuff.”

Ni-ki’s lips twitched into a small smile. “Yeah, well… it’s not exactly the kind of thing people talk about, you know? But I’ve always thought it was cool—how detectives figure everything out, all the little clues coming together.”

“Exactly!” you said, leaning forward a little more, your excitement bubbling over. “That’s the best part. Like, the story’s great and all, but the process of solving it? The way everything clicks in the end? It’s so satisfying.”

His smile widened, and for the first time, he looked genuinely at ease. “Right? And when you figure it out before the characters do? That’s the best feeling.”

You nodded eagerly, the conversation flowing effortlessly now. You started swapping favorite books and shows, debating the best fictional detectives and the most clever twists you’d seen. Ni-ki talked about his love for true crime documentaries, how he’d binge-watch them whenever he had a free weekend. You shared your obsession with whodunits, confessing how you’d pause episodes just to try to solve the case before the big reveal.

Time slipped by without you realizing it. The library around you faded into the background as you talked, your usual quiet demeanor replaced by the spark of shared enthusiasm. Ni-ki was surprisingly easy to talk to, his reserved nature melting away as the two of you bonded over your mutual love for crime stories.

At some point, you glanced at the clock and realized lunch was almost over. You sighed, reluctantly closing your book. “Guess we’ll have to pick this up later. I’ve got class.”

Ni-ki nodded, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—disappointment, maybe? It was subtle, but you caught it.

“Hey,” you said as you stood, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “We should talk more about this sometime. Maybe… tomorrow?”

His gaze snapped up to yours, and for a moment, he just stared at you, like he couldn’t quite believe you were serious. Then he nodded, his smile small but genuine. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

You grinned and gave him a quick wave before heading toward the door.

The rest of the day felt oddly brighter. You couldn’t quite put your finger on why, but something about that conversation with Ni-ki lingered with you. Maybe it was because you’d finally found someone who shared your interest, someone who didn’t just dismiss it as “weird” or “creepy.” Or maybe it was because, for the first time, Ni-ki hadn’t seemed like the quiet, distant figure you’d always known him as. He felt… real.

The next day, you found yourself scanning the library during lunch without even thinking about it. And sure enough, there he was—sitting at the same table, his notebook open in front of him, scribbling something in his neat handwriting.

You hesitated for a moment, suddenly feeling a little nervous. What if he thought yesterday was a one-time thing? What if he wasn’t expecting you to actually show up? But then he looked up, and the moment his eyes met yours, his face lit up with a small but unmistakable smile.

That was all the invitation you needed. You crossed the room and slid into the seat across from him, setting your bag down beside you.

“Hey,” you said, trying to sound casual.

“Hey,” he replied, his tone soft but warm.

It didn’t take long for the conversation to pick up where you’d left off. You talked about the book you were reading, how the protagonist was struggling to crack a seemingly unsolvable case. Ni-ki listened intently, occasionally chiming in with his own thoughts or theories. When it was his turn, he shared about a true crime documentary he’d started the night before.

As the days went by, it became a routine. Every lunch break, you’d find each other in the library, your conversations growing longer and more animated. What started as casual chats about crime novels and documentaries quickly expanded into other topics—favorite genres, books you’d loved as kids, even the little quirks you’d noticed about your classmates.

Ni-ki opened up more than you ever expected. You learned that he loved puzzles, that he had a knack for spotting patterns and solving problems. He admitted, almost shyly, that he wanted to be a forensic scientist someday, to solve real-life mysteries.

You told him about your fascination with detective work, how you’d always loved the idea of uncovering the truth. You joked that maybe you’d end up as a detective yourself one day, solving cases while he analyzed the evidence. He laughed at that, a soft, genuine sound that you realized you wanted to hear more of.

“Hey,” he said, his voice quieter than usual.

You looked up, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “Yeah?”

“I just… I wanted to say thanks,” he said, not quite meeting your eyes. “For, you know… sticking up for me. Back then. And now.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. “You don’t have to thank me for that, Ni-ki. No one deserves to be treated like that.”

He nodded, his fingers fidgeting with the strap of his bag. “I know, but… it meant a lot. And so does this. Talking to you, I mean. It’s… nice.”

You felt a warmth spread through your chest, the same kind you’d felt every time you caught him watching you. “It’s nice for me too,” you admitted, offering him a small smile.

For a moment, he just looked at you, his expression soft and almost… hopeful. Then he nodded, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“Same time tomorrow?” he asked.

“Of course,” you said, already looking forward to it.

--

You and Ni-ki walked side by side down the hallway, the buzz of students heading to their next class filling the air. He was carrying a few books in his arms, his notebook precariously balanced on top, while the two of you chatted about your plans for the day.

“I’ve got a project due for history,” you said, groaning. “I’ll probably be stuck in the library all afternoon. What about you?”

“Studying for the calculus test,” Ni-ki replied with a faint smile. “Though, knowing me, I’ll still probably bomb it.”

“You won’t,” you assured him. “You just need to stop doubting yourself so much.”

He chuckled softly at that, and the sound was warm—genuine. You had started to notice these little things about him, the way he opened up a bit more when it was just the two of you.

As you reached your classroom door, you slowed to a stop, turning to face him. “Alright, this is me. I’ll see you at lunch later?”

“Yeah, I’ll—”

Before Ni-ki could finish his sentence, someone shoved him hard from behind. He stumbled forward, dropping his books as he fell onto his knees. His notebook skidded across the floor, pages fluttering.

“Oops,” the voice sneered mockingly from behind. “Didn’t see you there, nerd.”

You whipped around, your blood instantly boiling. It was one of the usual suspects—one of the guys who seemed to make it his personal mission to make Ni-ki’s life miserable. His smug smirk widened as he stood there, hands in his pockets, his posture radiating mock innocence.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you snapped, your voice echoing in the hallway.

The guy raised an eyebrow, shrugging nonchalantly. “Relax, it was an accident.”

“Accident, my ass,” you shot back, stepping forward. “You’ve got the brainpower of a rock, but even you know how to avoid people in a hallway.”

A few students nearby paused to watch, their conversations trailing off as they sensed the tension.

The guy’s smirk faltered for a second, his eyes narrowing. “Watch your mouth.”

“Or what?” you challenged, crossing your arms. “You’ll try to push me too? Let’s see how far you get.”

He opened his mouth, likely to hurl an insult your way, but before he could get the words out, a stern voice interrupted.

“Is there a problem here?”

A teacher had appeared at the end of the hallway, arms crossed, eyes flicking between you, Ni-ki, and the bully.

The guy immediately straightened, his smugness replaced with a fake innocence. “No problem, sir. Just a little accident.”

The teacher’s eyes lingered on him for a moment, skeptical but unwilling to escalate without proof. “Then I suggest you keep moving before you’re late to class.”

The bully muttered something under his breath and stalked off, throwing one last glare over his shoulder. You glared right back until he disappeared into the crowd.

With the hallway clearing, you turned back to Ni-ki, who was still on the ground, gathering his books with a quiet, resigned expression. You knelt down beside him, helping him scoop up his notebook and a few loose papers.

“You okay?” you asked softly, handing him the last of his things.

He nodded, though his cheeks were flushed, not from the fall but from the embarrassment of it all. “Yeah. Thanks.”

You stood and offered him your hand. He hesitated for a moment before taking it, and you pulled him to his feet.

“Don’t let jerks like that get to you,” you said firmly, your voice softer now. “He’s just miserable with his own life, so he’s trying to make you feel the same way. But he doesn’t get to win.”

Ni-ki’s lips twitched into the smallest of smiles as he adjusted the books in his arms. “I’m starting to think you like fighting my battles more than I do.”

You laughed, nudging his arm lightly. “Someone’s gotta have your back.”

The bell rang just as you and Ni-ki made your way to your separate classes.

You sank into your seat, the dull buzz of the classroom settling around you as your mind wandered back to what had just happened. You hated seeing that side of Ni-ki dimmed by people who had nothing better to do than pick on someone who kept to himself.

Your teacher walked in, and the usual routine of class began. You tried to focus, taking notes, participating when necessary, but it was hard to shake off the image of Ni-ki being knocked down again. Even harder, was knowing that no matter how much you tried to defend him, the cycle would probably continue.

It wasn’t that you didn’t understand the way people like that bully operated—people who picked on others because they could, because it was easier to tear someone else down than deal with their own problems. What pissed you off was that Ni-ki never seemed to ask for help. He didn’t fight back, didn’t make a scene, and kept everything buried under that quiet, almost invisible demeanor of his.

You didn’t know why you cared so much. Maybe it was because he was finally someone who shared your interests, someone who didn’t see you as weird or obsessive for reading crime novels or binge-watching shows about detectives. Or maybe it was because, for the first time in a long while, you found someone you didn’t mind looking out for.

The rest of class passed by in a blur, and when the bell rang again, signaling the end of the period, you packed up your things quickly, eager to catch up with Ni-ki.

You hadn’t seen him on your way out, but he wasn’t hard to find. When you stepped out into the hall, you spotted him near his locker, his back slightly hunched as he rifled through his bag. He looked like he was in his own world, eyes focused on something only he could see.

You walked up to him, your footsteps steady.

“You good?” you asked, breaking the silence.

Ni-ki turned slightly, startled for a moment. When he saw it was you, the tension in his shoulders visibly loosened. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied, his voice soft but steady. “Thanks again for earlier. You didn’t have to do that.”

You shrugged, trying to downplay it. “It’s not a big deal. He’s just a jerk. Besides, if no one stands up for you, who will?”

Ni-ki didn’t answer right away. He just stared at you for a moment, as if weighing your words. After a long pause, he gave a small, almost shy smile. “I guess… I’ve never really thought about it like that.”

“Well, now you know,” you said with a grin. “If you ever need backup, I’m around.” You tried to keep your tone light, but there was a quiet sincerity in it.

Ni-ki nodded, his expression softening, as if he were grateful, but unsure how to show it. “Thanks. I… I appreciate it.”

The bell rang, signaling the start of the next class, and you both turned to head in opposite directions. You glanced back at him before walking away, feeling that familiar pull of wanting to make sure he was okay.

Over the next few days, you found yourself in more and more situations where people were picking on Ni-ki, or even just others around campus. It wasn’t always the same faces; sometimes it was a random group, sometimes it was a repeat offender. But every time, you couldn’t just walk by.

One afternoon, you were heading toward the library when you spotted a couple of guys standing by the lockers. One of them had his hands shoved into Ni-ki’s chest, laughing as he made some cruel remark about Ni-ki’s glasses being too big for his face. Ni-ki’s eyes were lowered, his shoulders tense, his voice barely a whisper as he tried to back away, but the guys weren’t letting him go.

Without thinking, you rushed forward, your heart pounding in your chest. “Hey!” you called out, your voice cutting through the laughter. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

The guys turned to face you, their expressions mocking. “Oh, look, it’s the weird kid who’s always reading those detective books,” one of them sneered. “What, you gonna cry for him too?”

You didn’t flinch. “I’ll cry if it means you get a reality check. You think picking on people makes you cool? It doesn’t.”

The bully smirked, stepping closer. “Maybe you should mind your own business, huh? No one cares what you think.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” you snapped, standing your ground. “I do care. And I don’t let people get away with treating others like crap. So if you’ve got a problem with him, you’ve got a problem with me.” You took a step forward, matching his arrogance with a calm confidence. “Go ahead, say something back. I dare you.”

The guy’s face twisted in frustration, but before he could retort, another voice interrupted.

“Is there a problem here?” A teacher had appeared, walking briskly down the hall with an authoritative presence.

The bully shot one last glance at you, a sneer still hanging on his lips, before muttering, “Whatever, it’s just a joke.”

“Then keep your ‘jokes’ to yourself,” you said, watching as he slinked off with his friend in tow.

As the tension cleared, you turned to Ni-ki, who was standing there, still looking a little shell-shocked. He didn’t speak for a moment, just staring at you like you had just pulled him out of the depths of something he didn’t know how to escape.

“You alright?” you asked quietly, your voice softer now.

Ni-ki nodded slowly, though he still looked like he wasn’t quite sure how to respond. “I—I’m fine. Thanks again. But you really didn’t have to do that.”

“I did,” you said, giving him a smile. “I don’t let people get away with stuff like that. You deserve better than being treated like that, and so does everyone else.”

Ni-ki’s eyes met yours for a moment, something unreadable flickering behind them before he spoke. “Maybe… maybe I don’t know how to stand up for myself the way you do.”

“That’s alright,” you said with a shrug. “Not everyone does. But it’s not too late to start.”

As the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, you both began walking toward your next classes. You could feel his presence beside you, his quiet thanks still lingering in the air, but it didn’t feel awkward. You had his back, and that was what mattered.

You didn’t always receive praise for standing up to people. You didn’t always get the support you might’ve hoped for. Sometimes you’d get the sneers and judgment from those who didn’t understand, those who thought that letting things slide or keeping their heads down was the easier way to go.

But you didn’t care.

You didn’t care about the sideways glances, or the occasional whispered insults behind your back. You couldn’t stand by and do nothing.

And if that meant dealing with the backlash, so be it. You’d rather face that than let someone else feel alone.

A few days later, you woke up feeling off—head throbbing, throat scratchy, and your body aching like you'd been hit by a truck. You groaned, pulling yourself out of bed only to immediately collapse back under the covers. The thought of going to school was unbearable, and you knew you needed rest more than anything else.

The absence of the usual noise from school made everything feel stiller, emptier. It was a strange feeling, knowing you wouldn’t be there to keep an eye out for Ni-ki, to have his back in the way you had grown accustomed to.

That afternoon, the day passed slowly, and you spent most of it in and out of sleep. When you checked your phone again later, you saw that Ni-ki had sent another message: "Is everything okay? Haven't seen you today."

You smiled at his concern, typing back, "Yeah, just sick. I'll be back soon, don’t worry."

The next few days were rougher than you’d expected. What you thought was just a mild bug turned into a fever that left you bedridden. You tried to keep up with school through messages from classmates and the occasional email from teachers, but your energy was practically nonexistent.

Ni-ki checked in on you every day, like clockwork. His texts were short and to the point, but they carried a warmth that made you smile despite your pounding headache.

"Feeling any better today?" "Don’t push yourself, okay?" "I can drop off notes if you need them."

You’d chuckle at the last one, imagining Ni-ki walking up to your door with a stack of papers and books. "Thanks, but I’ll survive. Just focus on yourself," you’d reply, even though you appreciated the thought more than you could express.

Despite his reassurances that everything was fine, you couldn’t help but worry. Ni-ki wasn’t exactly the type to tell you if something was wrong, especially when it came to the bullies. The thought of him being alone, enduring their usual torment without you there to step in, gnawed at the edges of your mind.

By the third day, your fever started to break, and you felt well enough to sit up and respond to messages without immediately passing out. You sent Ni-ki a text: "How’s school been?"

A few minutes passed before his reply came in. "Same as always. Don’t worry about me."

You frowned. That was exactly the kind of response you’d been expecting—and dreading.

"You sure? No one’s bothering you?"

The three little dots indicating he was typing popped up, then disappeared, then reappeared again. Finally, he sent: "I’m fine. Just come back soon, okay?"

You stared at the screen for a long moment, conflicted. On one hand, you knew Ni-ki well enough by now to recognize when he wasn’t telling you the whole truth. On the other hand, pushing him for answers over text wouldn’t get you anywhere.

"I will," you typed back. "Just hang in there."

When you finally returned to school a few days later, you felt a strange mixture of relief and unease. As much as you hated being away, a small part of you worried about what you’d find when you got back.

Walking through the hallways felt like stepping into a space that had shifted slightly in your absence. You noticed the usual groups clustered together, their laughter echoing through the halls. But as your eyes scanned the crowd, you couldn’t find Ni-ki anywhere.

When you reached your locker, you spotted one of his friends—someone you’d occasionally seen him study with. You hesitated before calling out, “Hey, have you seen Ni-ki?”

The guy looked up, his face shadowed with something you couldn’t quite place. “He’s in the library,” he said after a moment. “He’s been there a lot lately.”

You nodded, thanking him before heading in that direction. The library was quieter than usual, the muffled hum of voices and the faint rustle of pages filling the air. It didn’t take long to spot Ni-ki, sitting at a table in the far corner, his head down as he scribbled something into a notebook.

“Ni-ki,” you called softly as you approached.

He looked up, and for a split second, relief flashed across his face. Then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by his usual reserved expression. “Hey,” he said, closing his notebook and sitting up straighter. “You’re back.”

“I am,” you said, pulling out a chair and sitting across from him. “What’s been going on? And don’t say ‘nothing,’ because I know that’s not true.”

Ni-ki hesitated, his fingers fidgeting with the corner of his notebook. “It’s… not a big deal,” he finally said, his voice low. “Just the usual stuff.”

Your jaw tightened. You’d expected as much, but hearing it still made your blood boil. “What happened?”

He sighed, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. “They’ve just been… pushing things a little more since you weren’t here. It’s fine, though. I’m used to it.”

“Used to it doesn’t make it okay,” you said firmly. “Did anyone step in? Tell a teacher? Anything?”

Ni-ki shook his head. “No one really noticed. Or if they did, they didn’t care.”

Your fists clenched under the table. It was exactly what you’d feared, and it only made you more determined. “Well, I���m back now,” you said, your voice steady. “And they’re not getting away with it anymore. Not while I’m around.”

Ni-ki looked at you, a flicker of something—gratitude, maybe—crossing his face. “You don’t have to keep doing this, you know,” he said quietly. “Standing up for me all the time. It’s not your responsibility.”

“It’s not about responsibility,” you replied, meeting his gaze. “I want to stand up. And no one deserves to feel like they’re alone in this.”

“Thanks,” Ni-ki said eventually, his voice barely above a whisper.

You gave him a small smile. “Anytime.”

--

It started out subtly—so subtle, in fact, that you almost missed it the first few times. You’d grown so used to being the one to step in, to speak up, to push back when people crossed the line with Ni-ki, that it became instinctive. But recently, before you could even open your mouth or move to intervene, something in Ni-ki’s demeanor had started to change.

The next time someone shoved him in the hallway, you caught it. The twist in his face.

It wasn’t the usual resignation or silent frustration you’d seen before. No, this was different. His jaw tightened, his eyes sharp and focused, his posture just a fraction straighter. He still stumbled when they shoved him, still dropped his books, but there was a flicker of defiance there—a spark you hadn’t noticed before.

“Watch where you’re going, idiot,” one of the bullies muttered, smirking as they turned to walk off.

But before you could even step in, Ni-ki straightened up, brushing himself off. His voice was quiet but firm as he said, “Maybe you should watch where you’re going.”

It wasn’t loud, and it certainly wasn’t a full-on confrontation, but it was enough to make the bully pause for a moment, glancing back over their shoulder with narrowed eyes. Ni-ki didn’t flinch. He just stared at them, steady and unyielding, until they scoffed and walked away.

You stood frozen for a moment, caught off guard. This wasn’t like him—not the Ni-ki you’d grown used to protecting, the one who usually avoided confrontation at all costs.

“Ni-ki,” you said, catching up to him as he bent down to pick up his books. “What was that?”

He glanced up at you, his expression unreadable. “What was what?”

“That,” you said, gesturing vaguely toward the hallway where the bullies had just left. “You… you stood up for yourself.”

He shrugged, tucking his books under his arm. “Yeah, well… I figured I might as well try it.”

You blinked, surprised by how nonchalant he sounded. “Try it?”

He paused, glancing at you with a small, almost shy smile. “I’ve been watching you, you know. How you don’t let people push you—or anyone else—around. It made me think… maybe I could do that too.”

For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. You felt a strange mix of pride and worry bubbling in your chest. Pride, because seeing Ni-ki finally stand up for himself felt like a victory. Worry, because you knew how cruel people could be when they were challenged.

“Well,” you said finally, your voice soft, “I’m glad you’re trying. But you know you don’t have to do it alone, right? I’ve got your back.”

He nodded, his smile growing a little. “I know. But… it feels kind of good. Not letting them have all the power.”

From that day on, you started noticing it more often.

The next time someone muttered something cruel under their breath as Ni-ki walked past, he didn’t just look away. He turned, his voice steady as he asked, “What did you just say?” It wasn’t a shout, wasn’t a threat, but the sheer confidence in his tone was enough to catch them off guard.

And the next time someone knocked his books out of his hands, Ni-ki didn’t just bend down to pick them up. He straightened up first, meeting their gaze with an icy calmness that made them hesitate before walking off.

You watched it all unfold with a mixture of admiration and concern.

One afternoon, after class, you found yourself walking with him again, the two of you deep in conversation about one of the crime novels you’d both been reading. As you turned the corner, you saw one of the usual suspects—one of the guys who’d made Ni-ki’s life a nightmare for as long as you could remember.

The guy stepped into Ni-ki’s path, blocking his way. “Hey, got a minute?”

You tensed immediately, ready to step forward, but Ni-ki held up a hand, stopping you.

“What do you want?” Ni-ki asked, his voice calm but firm.

The bully smirked, leaning in closer. “Just wondering how long it’ll take before you crawl back into that little shell of yours. You think you’re tough now? That you’ve got people to back you up?”

Ni-ki didn’t even blink. “I think you’re wasting your time. Find someone else to bother.”

The smirk faltered for just a second, and that was all it took. The bully muttered something under his breath before walking away, clearly annoyed that Ni-ki hadn’t given him the reaction he was hoping for.

As soon as the guy was out of earshot, you turned to Ni-ki, your eyes wide. “Okay, what was that? Who are you, and what have you done with the Ni-ki I know?”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I told you, I’ve been watching you. Guess I finally got tired of being the guy everyone picks on.”

You couldn’t help but smile, your chest swelling with pride. “Well, I’m glad you’re finding your voice. Just… don’t get yourself in too much trouble, okay?”

“Don’t worry,” he said, his smile soft but confident. “I know you’ll be there to save me if I do.”

You chuckled at his confidence, feeling that familiar warmth bubble up inside you. “Of course,” you replied. “But remember, you don’t have to rely on me all the time. You’ve got this, Ni-ki.”

He met your gaze, his eyes bright with something that looked almost like gratitude, but with a touch of pride as well. “Maybe. But it feels good knowing I’ve got someone watching my back.”

You nodded, feeling your heart skip a beat. It wasn’t just about protecting him anymore—it was about seeing him stand up for himself, to fight back against the people who tried to bring him down. And even though you still couldn’t shake the worry that the bullies would target him more now, you had a feeling that Ni-ki would be okay.

The days that followed were a mix of small victories. You’d catch glimpses of him, the way his posture had changed, the confidence in the way he carried himself. Even when the bullies tried to get under his skin, he seemed to hold his own. And when they tried to escalate things, Ni-ki would either meet them with sharp words or simply walk away with his head held high, no longer letting their insults stick to him.

--

The day started like any other—until you got to school.

The usual buzz of the morning crowd was replaced with an eerie silence. Police cars lined the front of the building, their lights casting flashes of red and blue against the gray morning sky. Students clustered in small groups near the gate, whispering to each other, their faces pale with unease.

You tightened your grip on your bag as you stepped closer, curiosity gnawing at you. Something had happened—something big.

Spotting Natty near the lockers, you hurried over, catching her arm gently. “What’s going on? Why are the police here?”

Natty turned, her expression somber and anxious. “You didn’t hear?”

You shook your head, your stomach twisting. “No. What happened?”

She glanced around nervously before leaning in closer. “Two students have been reported missing,” she said in a low voice.

Your heart skipped a beat. “Missing? Who?”

Natty hesitated, her voice dropping even lower. “It’s those two guys… you know, the ones who usually mess with people. The ones who—”

“The ones who pick on people” you finished for her, your voice barely above a whisper.

She nodded, her expression grim. “Yeah. Them. Apparently, they didn’t come home last night. Their parents called the school this morning, and now the police are involved.”

You stood there, processing her words. The two bullies—known for tormenting Ni-ki and plenty of other students—were missing? The news left you unsettled, a mix of emotions swirling in your chest.

“What do you think happened to them?” you asked, your voice cautious.

Natty shrugged, glancing over at the police officers. “I don’t know. Everyone’s talking about it, but no one seems to know anything for sure. Some people are saying they might’ve run away, but…” She trailed off, biting her lip.

“But?”

She leaned in closer, her voice barely audible now. “But people are also saying it doesn’t feel like that. They’re saying it’s... suspicious.”

You frowned, your mind racing. Suspicious. The word lingered in your thoughts like a dark cloud. You couldn’t help but think about Ni-ki—the way he’d started standing up for himself, the way the bullies had been pushing back harder in recent weeks. And now, suddenly, they were gone?

“Do they have any leads?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

Natty shook her head. “Not that I’ve heard. The police are just starting their investigation.”

You glanced around, your eyes scanning the crowd. Your thoughts immediately went to Ni-ki. Had he heard about this yet? How was he feeling? You knew the bullies had made his life miserable, but even so, this was… extreme.

“I’ll catch up with you later,” you said, already stepping away.

Natty called after you, “Where are you going?”

“To check on someone,” you replied over your shoulder, your mind set on finding Ni-ki.

You searched the usual spots—the bench near the library, the quiet corner by the art room—but he was nowhere to be found. Finally, you spotted him by the vending machines, standing alone with his hands in his pockets.

“Ni-ki,” you called softly as you approached.

He looked up, his expression unreadable. “Hey.”

“Did you hear?” you asked, lowering your voice.

He nodded, his gaze dropping again. “Yeah. Everyone’s talking about it.”

You studied him for a moment, trying to gauge his emotions. He didn’t look shocked or upset—just… thoughtful.

“How are you feeling about it?” you asked gently.

He shrugged, his voice quiet. “I don’t know. It’s... weird. They were horrible to everyone, but this? It’s… I don’t know.”

You nodded, understanding the conflict in his tone.

“They’ll figure it out,” you said, more to reassure yourself than him. “The police are here, and they’ll get to the bottom of it.”

Ni-ki glanced at you, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he nodded. “Yeah. I guess.”

You walked side by side with Ni-ki, the buzz of conversations and murmurs about the missing students fading into the background. He didn’t seem as unsettled as you would’ve expected. In fact, he looked… composed. Too composed. There was a calmness about him, a quiet confidence that hadn’t been there before.

It wasn’t like he didn’t care—at least, you didn’t think so. But he wasn’t fidgeting or avoiding the topic like you might have imagined. Instead, he walked with his head held high, his steps deliberate.

You glanced at him, trying to gauge his mood. “You seem… okay about all this,” you said carefully, not wanting to come off as accusing.

Ni-ki shrugged, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” you said, tilting your head. “It’s just… two people are missing. People who used to make your life hell, and you don’t look… bothered.”

He stopped walking for a moment, turning to face you. His lips curved into the faintest smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Should I be?”

The question caught you off guard. You blinked, unsure how to respond. “Well, I mean… it’s weird, right? They’re still people. Even if they were awful, it’s not like they deserved to… you know, vanish.”

Ni-ki held your gaze for a moment longer before looking away, his expression unreadable. “I guess I’ve just learned not to waste my energy on people like them,” he said, his voice steady. “They made their choices. It’s not my job to care.”

You frowned, his words sticking with you as you both continued walking. There was something about the way he spoke—calm, measured, almost detached—that made you uneasy. But you didn’t push him further. Ni-ki had grown a lot lately, standing up for himself in ways you hadn’t expected. Maybe this was just part of that change—his way of not letting the past hold power over him anymore.

Still, you couldn’t help but notice how his posture seemed different now. Straighter, more self-assured. He wasn’t the same Ni-ki who used to avoid eye contact in the hallways or flinch at the sound of the bullies’ voices. This Ni-ki was someone who carried himself with quiet confidence, someone who looked like he had nothing to fear.

And yet, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to it. Something he wasn’t saying.

You wanted to ask, to press him for answers, but something stopped you. Maybe it was the way his expression remained calm, as if daring you to question him. Or maybe it was the realization that you weren’t sure you wanted to know.

“Anyway,” Ni-ki said, breaking the silence, “what’s your plan for the rest of the day?”

The abrupt shift in topic caught you off guard, but you decided to go with it. “Not much,” you said, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. “Probably just try to catch up on homework and maybe watch something later.”

He nodded, his smile softening into something more genuine. “Sounds good. Let me know if you find a good mystery to watch.”

“Will do,” you replied, smiling back.

As you parted ways and headed to your respective classes, you couldn’t help but glance back at him. The way he walked, the way he carried himself now—it was almost like he was a completely different person.

And though you didn’t say it out loud, the unease lingered. There was something about Ni-ki that had changed, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. And as much as you wanted to believe it was just confidence.. a small, nagging part of you wondered if it was something more.

After school, you found yourself lingering by the gate, waiting for Ni-ki. You weren’t even sure why. Maybe it was just the need to talk to him again, to see if you could get a better read on what he was thinking.

He appeared a few minutes later, his bag slung over one shoulder and his usual calm expression in place. When he spotted you, his lips twitched into a small smile.

“Waiting for me?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

You shrugged, trying to play it off. “Just thought we could walk together.”

“Sure,” he said, falling into step beside you.

The walk home started out quiet, the kind of comfortable silence you’d gotten used to with him. But as you neared the park, you couldn’t hold back your curiosity any longer.

“Ni-ki,” you began carefully, “I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier.”

He glanced at you, his expression unreadable. “What about it?”

“About not caring. About how it’s not your job to care about... people like them.” You hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “It just feels like... I don’t know, you’ve changed a lot lately. You’re more confident, and that’s great, but... it’s like you’re not bothered by anything anymore.”

Ni-ki didn’t respond right away. He kept walking, his gaze focused straight ahead, his expression calm. Finally, he sighed, his shoulders rising and falling.

“I guess I just realized there’s no point in letting things get to me,” he said, his tone measured. “People like them... they’re not worth my time. They never were.”

You frowned, your unease growing. “But... don’t you think it’s weird? That they just disappeared like that?”

He stopped walking, turning to face you. His eyes met yours, and for the first time, there was a flicker of something behind his calm exterior. Something darker.

“What are you trying to say?” he asked, his voice quiet but firm.

Your breath hitched, caught off guard by the sudden intensity in his gaze. “I’m not saying anything,” you said quickly, though your heart was racing. “I’m just... curious. That’s all.”

Ni-ki studied you for a moment longer before his expression softened, the faintest smile returning to his lips. “It’s probably nothing,” he said. “People like that... they always have enemies. Maybe someone else decided to deal with them.”

The way he said it sent a chill down your spine. He didn’t sound defensive, or even particularly concerned. If anything, he sounded... amused.

You forced a smile, not wanting to push him further. “Yeah, maybe,” you said, your voice quieter than you intended.

Ni-ki started walking again, and you followed, your mind racing with questions you didn’t dare ask.

As the two of you walked further down the quiet street, Ni-ki suddenly turned toward his dorm building, stopping just before the steps. He looked at you with a hint of hesitation, but there was also that hopeful glint in his eyes that always managed to make your heart soften.

“Hey,” he said casually, though his tone had a shy edge. “Do you… maybe want to come up? We could study together or something. I know exams are coming up, and it’s easier with company.”

You hesitated, clutching the strap of your bag. “I don’t know… I should probably just head home and get some rest.”

Ni-ki’s face dropped slightly, and for a second, he looked like he was bracing for you to turn him down. But the way he glanced at you—hopeful and a little nervous—made something inside you falter.

“Are you sure?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably. “It’ll be quiet. I promise I won’t distract you too much.”

You looked at him, at the way his bangs fell slightly into his eyes and the way he fidgeted with the strap of his own bag. He looked cute, and there was something so innocent about the way he asked, as if he genuinely just wanted to spend more time with you.

“Alright,” you finally said, relenting with a small smile. “I’ll stay for a little while.”

The way his face lit up made it all worth it. A broad smile spread across his lips, and before you could react, he reached out, his hands gently finding their way to your waist as he guided you toward the door. His touch was firm yet careful, his hands warm even through the fabric of your jacket.

“Come on,” he said, his tone suddenly brighter as he led you inside the building. “It’s not too messy, I promise. Well… not that messy.”

You laughed softly, letting him lead you into the lobby and toward the elevator. There was something about the way he was acting—lighthearted and a little goofy—that made your earlier unease fade just a bit.

When the elevator doors opened, Ni-ki stepped aside to let you in first, his hand briefly brushing against your lower back. He pressed the button for his floor, glancing at you with a grin. “I’ll even let you pick the first topic we study. Fair deal?”

“Deal,” you said, shaking your head at him.

As the elevator climbed, you realized that, despite your earlier hesitation, you didn’t really mind being here with him. There was something comforting about the way Ni-ki treated you, like you were the only person who really mattered to him in that moment.

The elevator dinged, and the two of you stepped out into the hallway. Ni-ki led the way to his room, opening the door with a flourish before stepping aside to let you in.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” he said, gesturing around with a playful smile.

You stepped inside, taking in the neat but lived-in space. His desk was cluttered with notebooks and textbooks, and there were a few random items scattered around—headphones, a hoodie draped over the back of a chair, a half-empty mug on the windowsill.

“It’s cozy,” you said, setting your bag down by the door.

Ni-ki grinned. “That’s code for ‘small,’ isn’t it?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No, I mean it. It feels… nice.”

“Good,” he said, closing the door behind you. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll grab us some water, and then we can get started.”

As he busied himself in the corner of the room, you took a seat at his desk, letting yourself relax.

And as Ni-ki returned with two glasses of water and a bright smile, you couldn’t help but think that maybe this was exactly what you needed.

Ni-ki handed you a glass of water, his smile warm and genuine, and you took it with a grateful nod. As you both sat down at his desk, the atmosphere felt surprisingly comfortable. The earlier tension had all but faded, replaced by a quiet energy between you two that made everything feel easy.

“So,” Ni-ki began, pulling a notebook toward him, “what subject do you want to start with?” His eyes flickered toward you, waiting for your answer.

You considered for a moment. “I guess… let’s tackle history first? That’s the one I’m struggling with the most.”

“History it is,” Ni-ki agreed, and there was a brief moment of silence as he pulled out his own materials, flipping through pages in his textbook. You glanced at the way he studied—focused but relaxed, as if he’d done this a hundred times before. His brow furrowed just a little when he concentrated, and you found yourself studying him without even realizing it.

He noticed after a second, a slight shift in his posture. “What? Is something wrong?” he asked, glancing up from his book.

“No, no, I was just… thinking.” You gave him a small smile, hoping to ease whatever concern he might have had. “You’re a good study buddy. You’re very… focused.”

Ni-ki chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “I try. It’s just easier when you actually care about what you’re learning, you know?”

You nodded in agreement. The two of you dived into your history notes, bouncing ideas back and forth, helping each other fill in the blanks on a few tricky subjects. The more you talked, the more you realized how much you enjoyed this.

As the hours passed, you found that time seemed to slow down in Ni-ki’s presence. Every now and then, he’d glance up from his book and shoot you a little smile, making it hard to focus on anything else.

By the time you looked at the clock, it had already gotten late. You hadn't realized how much time had passed, so engrossed in studying and talking.

“We should probably call it a night,” you said, stretching your arms above your head.

Ni-ki nodded, though his expression was a little reluctant. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Time really flew by.” He stood up, walking over to the desk and gathering his things. He paused for a moment, glancing back at you. “Thanks for hanging out tonight. It was… really nice.”

You smiled at him, your heart warming at his words. “Of course. I’m glad we did this.”

Ni-ki walked you to the door, his hand brushing yours for a brief moment as he reached for the handle. He opened the door, and as you stepped into the hallway, he stopped you.

“Hey,” he said quietly, his voice softer than usual.

You turned to look at him, eyebrows raised in question.

“I just wanted to say…” He paused, as if thinking carefully about his words. “I’m glad you’re… in my life. You know, you’ve really made things a lot easier for me.”

Your heart skipped a beat. The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, and you weren’t sure how to respond.

“I’m glad, too,” you managed, your voice a little quieter than intended. “I think we make a good team.”

Ni-ki’s lips curled into a small, genuine smile, and something about it made your chest feel lighter. He stepped closer, his hand briefly brushing your arm as if he wasn’t sure what to do next.

You both stood there for a moment, before Ni-ki spoke again, his tone soft but teasing.

“See you tomorrow, then?”

You nodded, feeling the smile tug at your own lips. “See you tomorrow.”

The music in your ears drowned out most of the world around you as you walked through the dark streets, the beat lightening your steps as you bopped your head and hummed softly. It was one of those evenings when the city felt alive but distant, the dim glow of streetlights casting long shadows against brick walls and sidewalks.

You didn’t notice the loud voice at first, too lost in the rhythm, but as it grew louder, it cut through the music, making you glance to your left. There, leaning against the wall of an old corner store, was a guy from your school.

You recognized him instantly. He was one of those guys who thrived on making others miserable. A bully. Loud, brash, and unapologetic about it. He was talking on his phone, his voice carrying through the quiet street.

When his gaze flicked toward you, you realized you’d been staring for too long. His face twisted in annoyance, and he barked, “What the hell are you looking at?”

Startled, you quickly shrugged, averting your gaze and picking up your pace. You didn’t have time for his nonsense tonight. The plan was simple: get home, maybe text Ni-ki, and bury yourself under your covers.

But you hadn’t made it more than a few steps when the street suddenly fell silent.

It was strange, almost unnerving. You frowned, pulling out one of your earbuds and glancing back over your shoulder.

Your breath caught in your throat.

The guy was still standing there, but something was wrong. His body was stiff, his shoulders trembling, and his head was tilted downward as if he were staring at his chest. Blood. Dark and glistening, it spilled from his mouth and dripped onto the pavement. His phone slipped from his hand and clattered to the ground.

Your instincts screamed at you to run, to do anything but stay frozen, but your feet refused to move. You could only watch in horror as his wide, terrified eyes met yours.

He tried to say something, his lips moving, but all that came out was a wet, gurgling sound.

And then you saw it.

Behind him, a figure emerged from the shadows, tall and menacing. They wore dark clothes, a hood pulled up to obscure most of their features, but what stood out—what sent chills racing down your spine—was the white mask. A smooth, expressionless face with hollow, soulless eyes staring straight at you.

In their gloved hand, they held a knife, the blade dripping with fresh blood.

Your heart pounded in your chest as panic set in. You were about to scream, about to do anything to snap yourself out of the shock, but the figure stepped forward, their movements deliberate and calm, as if they had all the time in the world.

The bully’s body crumpled to the ground, his lifeless eyes still locked in an expression of pure fear. The blood pooled beneath him, staining the pavement a deep crimson.

The figure didn’t move toward you—not yet. They just stood there, tilting their head slightly as if studying you, waiting to see what you would do.

Every instinct in your body screamed for you to run, but your legs felt like they were made of lead.

This can’t be real, you thought. This can’t be happening.

But it was. And now, the figure took one slow, deliberate step in your direction.

Run. You had to run. Now.

Your body finally responded, adrenaline flooding your veins as you stumbled backward, nearly tripping over your own feet. You turned and bolted down the darkened street, your breath coming in ragged gasps. The earbuds still dangling from your ears blasted music, a sharp contrast to the pounding of your heartbeat and the terror consuming you.

You didn’t dare look back.

Your feet hit the pavement hard, the sound echoing in the empty streets as you raced forward, unsure of where you were going. The only thought in your mind was get away. The quiet of the street felt suffocating, broken only by the occasional flicker of a streetlight.

But then you heard it.

Footsteps.

Slow, deliberate, and eerily calm.

Whoever they were, they weren’t running—they were following you. Like they knew you couldn’t escape.

You risked a glance over your shoulder, and your stomach dropped. The figure was still there, their white mask glowing faintly under the dim streetlights. They weren’t far, and their steady pace somehow made it worse. They didn’t need to run. They knew they had the upper hand.

“No, no, no...” you whispered to yourself, your voice shaky. You turned a sharp corner into a narrower street, your eyes darting around for any sign of help—a lit window, a passerby, anything. But there was no one. Just endless shadows.

You spotted an alley up ahead and ducked into it, pressing yourself against the wall as you tried to steady your breathing. You ripped your earbuds out, desperate to hear every sound around you.

For a moment, there was silence. The footsteps had stopped.

You strained your ears, listening for any hint of movement. The sound of your own breathing felt deafening in the stillness.

And then, softly, the unmistakable scrape of a shoe against the pavement.

Your heart nearly stopped as you realized they were close—too close.

The figure stepped into the mouth of the alley, their tall silhouette illuminated by the faint glow of a distant streetlight. They turned their head slowly, scanning the space.

You pressed yourself harder against the wall, willing yourself to disappear. Please don’t see me, please don’t see me.

But then they tilted their head, and you knew they’d found you.

A sharp wave of panic crashed over you, and before you could think, your legs moved on their own. You bolted deeper into the alley, praying it would lead somewhere—anywhere—but as you reached the end, your heart sank.

A dead end.

You spun around, your back pressed against the cold brick wall as the figure approached, their movements unhurried, deliberate. The knife in their hand gleamed faintly in the dim light, still slick with blood.

“W-what do you want?” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. Your hands shook as you clenched them at your sides, trying to mask the terror in your chest.

The figure didn’t answer, their masked face tilting slightly as if amused by your fear. The silence between you was suffocating, the sound of your ragged breathing echoing in the narrow alley. You pressed yourself harder against the wall, your body trembling as their slow, deliberate footsteps brought them closer.

“Please,” you tried again, your voice cracking. “I won’t tell anyone. Just—just let me go.”

Still, no response. They stopped just a few feet away, the knife glinting under the faint light. The blade wasn’t just bloodied—it was still dripping. Fresh.

You swallowed hard, your mind racing for a way out. Running wasn’t an option. The alley was too narrow, and they were blocking your only escape.

Then, the figure did something that made your stomach drop. Slowly, they reached up with their free hand and tapped the edge of the mask—right where the mouth would be. A deliberate, mocking gesture.

The message was clear: Don’t scream.

Your body froze as dread sank into your chest.

Your breathing hitched as the figure suddenly surged forward, their free hand grabbing your wrists and slamming them against the cold brick wall. You winced at the force, the impact sending a sharp sting up your arms.

"Let go!" you cried, struggling against their iron grip, but it was no use. Their hands were strong—too strong—and no matter how much you writhed or twisted, you couldn’t break free.

The knife gleamed dangerously close to your side, but it wasn’t moving. Instead, the figure leaned in, their mask mere inches from your face.

“Why are you doing this?” you hissed, your voice shaking but desperate.

They didn’t answer. Instead, they tilted their head, as if observing you up close, and the silent scrutiny sent a shiver down your spine. Their breathing was steady, calm—eerily so, given the situation.

You turned your head away, refusing to meet their hollow gaze, but their grip on your wrists tightened, forcing you to look back at them.

“Stop,” you choked out, your voice barely above a whisper now. “Please.”

They leaned in even closer, the blank mask filling your vision. The faint scent of something metallic—blood—wafted into your nose, and you froze completely, your body trembling under their hold.

You could feel the faint pressure of their breath through the mask, warm and unnervingly slow.

Then, they did something that made your stomach twist. They tilted their head down slightly, as if inspecting you more closely, and the knife in their other hand gently traced along the brick wall beside your face, the sound sharp and deliberate.

“Why are you so scared?” they finally murmured, their voice low, distorted, and almost playful. The modulated tone sent a chill through your entire body. Your eyes widened at the sound. “Who are you?” you managed to croak, but they ignored your question.

They leaned even closer, their voice dropping to a whisper. “You’ve been watching people. Reading their actions. Studying them.”

Your heart stopped. How could they possibly know that?

The knife stopped moving, the tip resting against the wall now as they tilted their head again, as if amused by your reaction.

“You’re just like me,” they murmured, their voice soft but laced with something dangerous. “Aren’t you curious about what happens next?”

The words struck you like a blow, and you felt the air leave your lungs. “I’m nothing like you,” you spat, trying to summon any ounce of courage left in you.

The figure chuckled softly—a sound that was more unsettling than anything else—and finally stepped back, releasing your wrists. You crumpled slightly against the wall, your hands trembling as you pulled them to your chest.

They stood there for a moment, watching you. And then, without a word, they turned and walked away, their figure disappearing into the darkness once more.

You didn’t move, your body frozen in place as your mind raced. Their words echoed in your head.

You’re just like me.

What did they mean?

For a moment, you stood there, too stunned to move, your legs shaking beneath you. The silence in the alley was deafening now, the absence of their presence almost as terrifying as their arrival.

Finally, your body caught up with your mind. You bolted.

You ran down the street, not caring where you were going, your feet pounding against the pavement. Every shadow felt like it was reaching for you, every flicker of light a reminder of that gleaming knife.

When you finally stopped, you realized you were standing in front of your building. Your hands trembled as you fumbled for your keys, barely managing to unlock the door before stumbling inside.

You slammed the door behind you, locking it quickly and leaning against it as you tried to catch your breath. Your heart was still racing, and the image of the masked figure burned into your mind wouldn’t leave.

You stood there for what felt like an eternity, your back pressed against the door, fighting to steady your breath. The air in the hallway was suffocating, the stillness unnerving. Your pulse thudded in your ears, too loud, too fast, as you struggled to ground yourself in reality.

The sound of your own heartbeat felt like a drum, drowning out every other noise. You closed your eyes for a moment, willing the panic to subside, but the image of the masked figure—those hollow, unfeeling eyes—kept flashing in your mind. You could almost still feel the coldness of their grip on your wrists, the steel of the knife pressed against the air between you.

No, no, you couldn't think about that. You had to focus on something else.

Your hands were shaking so badly that when you tried to take off your shoes, you nearly tripped over them. You steadied yourself against the wall, reaching for your phone in your pocket. Your hands felt clammy as you unlocked it, eyes scanning the screen. You thought about calling someone—anyone—but who could you even call? You had no idea what just happened, who that person was, or why you were targeted.

You tapped your messages, but the familiar names on your screen did little to comfort you. Your fingers hovered over Ni-ki’s name for a moment, but you hesitated. You didn’t want to scare him. What would you even say?

You knew he’d be worried, and maybe that’s exactly what you needed. But not yet.

You let out a long, shaky breath, and after a moment of indecision, you tucked the phone back into your pocket. You needed to calm down. You couldn’t let yourself spiral.

Your eyes flicked to the window, the dim glow from the streetlights casting long shadows into the room. Every movement, every flicker of light outside seemed to twist your nerves tighter. You felt like you were being watched.

Was it paranoia?

You couldn’t stay locked inside forever. But you couldn’t leave either. Not now.

You walked to the window and pulled the blinds slightly aside, peering out. The street below was quiet, eerily so. But there was something off about it now. Something unsettling.

Was this your fault? Was it something you'd done or seen that made you a target?

You flinched as your phone buzzed in your pocket, snapping you out of your thoughts. Your heart skipped a beat, but when you checked, it was just a message from Yuna—nothing urgent. You let out a breath of relief, your hands still trembling slightly.

You wanted to scream. To make sense of it all. But something told you that doing so would only make things worse.

--

The next morning, you woke up to a sense of dread still hanging in the air, the events from last night haunting your every thought. You had barely slept, every small noise in the dark sending your heart into a frantic beat. As you stumbled out of bed, you tried to shake the feeling off, but it lingered like a shadow.

You grabbed your phone, your fingers trembling slightly as you scrolled through your notifications. And then, your stomach dropped.

The headline was everywhere.

Student Found Murdered in Alley; Police Investigating

You stared at the screen, the words blurring as you read and reread the article, your hands shaking. They had found the body of the guy from last night—the one who had been leaning against the wall when the figure had attacked him. Blood had poured from his mouth just before the figure disappeared into the shadows.

But now he was dead.

The report didn’t offer many details yet, but the police were investigating, and they had a few leads—seeing if they found any potential witnesses. You clenched your fists, a sick feeling bubbling in your stomach as you read the lines again, trying to steady your nerves.

You were a witness.

You were standing right there when it happened, not even ten feet away. But you couldn’t bring yourself to tell anyone. The thought of speaking up made your stomach churn. What could you even say? That you’d seen a masked figure with a bloody knife standing over the body, and then you’d just run? That you’d been too scared to do anything but watch?

No, you couldn’t. It felt wrong. Almost like you were too close to the danger.

For a moment, you thought about calling Ni-ki. He’d want to know. He’d be concerned. But even the thought of telling him made you hesitate. You didn’t want to burden him with this. And besides, you didn’t even know what to say to him. How would he react?

Something inside you whispered that it was better to stay quiet. For now, at least. You didn’t know why. Maybe it was fear. Maybe it was guilt. But you couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that speaking out would only make things worse.

As you turned off your phone and got ready for school, the weight of the secret pressed down on you like an iron fist. The urge to tell someone gnawed at you, but something—maybe self-preservation, maybe the fear of the unknown—stopped you from speaking.

You didn’t know what kind of person that made you, but at that moment, all you could think about was survival.

And that meant staying silent.

You spotted Ni-ki waiting for you near the school gates, his back leaning casually against the wall. At first, you almost didn’t recognize him. Gone were the oversized hoodies and the unassuming posture. Today, he wore a sharp black jacket, his shirt tucked in, and his usually messy hair was swept back, revealing more of his face. The change was striking, and it caught you off guard.

When he saw you approaching, he straightened up, slipping his hands into his pockets with an easy confidence you’d never seen before. There was a glint in his eyes that made your stomach flip.

“Morning,” he greeted smoothly, his tone lighter than usual. His gaze swept over you briefly before he added, “You look cute today.”

The comment hit you like a bolt out of the blue, and you felt your cheeks flush instantly. “W-what?” you stammered, staring at him wide-eyed. Ni-ki wasn’t the type to flirt—or, at least, you didn’t think he was.

He chuckled at your reaction, his lips curling into a small, amused smile. “Relax. I’m just being honest.”

You ducked your head, pretending to fumble with your bag to hide the warmth spreading across your face. “Well… thanks, I guess,” you mumbled, trying to compose yourself.

The two of you fell into step together, chatting idly as you walked toward the school building. Ni-ki seemed so at ease, more relaxed than you’d ever seen him.

But as the two of you passed through the crowded hallway, you noticed something—every time someone called out to him, a snide remark or a mocking laugh in their tone, Ni-ki’s shoulders would stiffen ever so slightly.

“Hey, Ni-ki, looking sharp today!” someone sneered from behind, the tone far from genuine.

“Trying to impress someone? Not like anyone cares,” another voice added with a laugh.

You glanced over at him, expecting to see some hint of his reaction—annoyance, discomfort, maybe even the faint twist of hurt you used to notice in his expression when he was picked on. But before you could catch anything, Ni-ki turned to you with that same easy smile, his voice light and unaffected.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” he asked as if nothing had happened, steering the conversation effortlessly away from the taunts.

You frowned slightly, feeling like something was off. His smile was convincing, but you knew him well enough to sense that it didn’t reach his eyes. There was something guarded behind that mask of confidence, a wall he didn’t want you—or anyone else—to see behind.

“Are you okay?” you asked carefully, your voice low enough that no one else could hear.

Ni-ki’s smile didn’t falter, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—brief, almost imperceptible. “Why wouldn’t I be?” he replied smoothly, tilting his head at you like the question itself was unnecessary.

You wanted to press further, but the bell rang, cutting off any chance of continuing the conversation.

As you headed to class together, you couldn’t help but steal a few glances at him. Ni-ki had changed—there was no denying that. He seemed stronger, more confident, even… untouchable in a way. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t still carrying the weight of what he’d been through.

And as much as you wanted to believe his smile, something in you knew that the Ni-ki you were walking with now wasn’t the same one you’d first met.

The days passed, and Ni-ki’s transformation became even more apparent. He wasn’t just confident now—he was bold, almost playful in the way he interacted with you. And you couldn’t deny the effect it had on you.

“Morning,” he greeted one day, appearing behind you so suddenly that you nearly dropped your books. You turned to glare at him, clutching your chest as your heart raced from the surprise.

“Ni-ki, can you not sneak up on me like that?” you huffed, glaring half-heartedly.

He smirked, leaning down to your eye level, far too close for comfort. “What, can’t handle a little excitement in the morning?” he teased, his voice laced with a softness that made your cheeks burn.

You looked away, muttering under your breath, but it only seemed to amuse him. Without asking, he reached for your bag, slinging it over his shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Hey! I can carry my own bag,” you protested, grabbing for the strap.

Ni-ki dodged your hand effortlessly, his smirk growing. “I know. But I want to. Let me be a gentleman for once,” he said, winking at you.

You huffed again, but the way your cheeks warmed betrayed how much it flustered you.

It wasn’t just the small gestures like carrying your bag that got to you. Ni-ki always seemed to know just how to toe the line between teasing and sincere, making your heart race in ways you hadn’t expected. Sometimes, he’d lean casually against the locker next to yours, his proximity far too close to be casual.

“Have you ever read this one?” he asked once, holding out a crime novel you hadn’t even heard of. “I thought of you when I saw it.”

You blinked at the book in his hands, touched by the gesture. “You thought of me?”

He grinned, tilting his head. “Well, yeah. It’s about solving crimes. Sound familiar?”

You tried not to blush at his words, but his teasing gaze made it impossible.

The more time you spent with him, the more you noticed the little things he did—bringing you snacks during breaks, texting you links to new crime documentaries, and inviting you over to his dorm room for movie nights.

Those nights were some of your favorite moments, even if they made you nervous. The two of you would sit close together on the small couch, a bowl of popcorn between you as you watched horror movies. Inevitably, you’d end up dozing off halfway through, only to wake up hours later, cuddled up against his chest.

The first time it happened, you’d pulled away so quickly you nearly fell off the couch. “I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

Ni-ki just laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “It’s fine. You looked comfortable,” he said, his tone so gentle it made your heart ache.

Still, the memory of waking up to the sound of his steady heartbeat, feeling the warmth of his arms around you, stayed with you long after.

You couldn’t deny how Ni-ki made you feel. His presence was becoming something you looked forward to—his teasing, his warmth, his surprising thoughtfulness.

He was always there—waiting for you by the gates in the morning, walking you to your classes, and staying by your side during breaks. His confidence had grown, but so had his charm. He seemed to know just what to say to make your heart skip a beat, leaving you flustered and unsure how to respond.

One afternoon, the two of you were walking out of the library. Ni-ki was carrying your books again despite your protests, and the late afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the campus.

“So,” he began, his voice casual but laced with that teasing edge you’d come to expect, “are you ever going to admit you like spending time with me, or do I have to keep carrying your books until you do?”

You turned to him, startled by his boldness, and saw the playful smirk tugging at his lips. “I—what?!”

Ni-ki chuckled, leaning in slightly as he walked beside you. “You heard me,” he said, his voice soft but teasing. “You don’t have to be so shy about it. I mean, I am pretty great company.”

Your face burned, and you looked away, clutching your bag tightly. “Don’t flatter yourself,” you muttered, though your tone lacked any real bite.

His laugh was soft but warm, and it only made your cheeks grow hotter. “I’m just saying what’s true,” he said, his voice lowering as he added, “You’re cute when you get flustered, you know that?”

You didn’t respond, too busy trying to keep your heart from pounding out of your chest.

Later that evening, you found yourself at his dorm room again, another movie night he’d somehow convinced you to attend. As usual, he’d picked a horror film—one of his favorites, he said.

The room was dimly lit, the flickering glow of the TV the only source of light. You sat next to him on the small couch, your knees almost touching.

Halfway through the movie, a particularly tense scene made you jump, and without thinking, you grabbed onto Ni-ki’s arm.

“Scared?” he asked, his tone teasing but not unkind.

You quickly let go, crossing your arms over your chest. “No,” you said stubbornly, though the way your heart raced said otherwise.

Ni-ki laughed softly, leaning closer to you. “It’s okay to be scared. You can hold onto me if you want,” he said, his voice dropping just enough to make your breath catch.

You glanced at him, your cheeks burning again, and quickly looked back at the screen. “I’ll be fine,” you muttered, trying to ignore how close he was.

As the movie went on, though, the tension eased, and the warmth of Ni-ki’s presence lulled you into a sense of comfort. Before you knew it, your eyes were growing heavy, and the soft sound of his breathing beside you was the last thing you remembered before you drifted off.

When you woke up, the TV was off, and the room was quiet. You blinked groggily, realizing you were leaning against Ni-ki’s chest again, your head resting just over his heart. His arm was draped lightly over your shoulder, holding you close.

You froze, your face heating up as you tried to process the situation. Slowly, you sat up, careful not to wake him, only to find him already awake, his eyes half-lidded and watching you with a soft smile.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

“I—I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” you stammered, pulling away completely.

Ni-ki just shrugged, sitting up as well. “It’s fine,” he said, brushing it off like it was nothing. “You looked comfortable.”

You buried your face in your hands, groaning softly. “This is so embarrassing…”

He chuckled, reaching out to gently nudge your shoulder. “Relax. I told you, it’s fine. You can fall asleep on me anytime.”

His words only made your blush deepen, and you quickly got up, mumbling something about needing to leave. Ni-ki walked you to the door, still smiling in that soft, knowing way that made your heart ache.

--

It was a typical day in the cafeteria, the loud hum of conversation filling the air as you sat with your friends, idly picking at your food. The topic of discussion ranged from schoolwork to weekend plans, and you were halfway through telling a funny story when the sound of a tray nearly crashing to the ground caught your attention.

You looked up to see Ni-ki, standing awkwardly as he tried to steady himself after nearly colliding with a group of girls near the lunch line. His tray wobbled precariously, but he caught it just in time, flashing the girls an apologetic smile before quickly stepping aside.

The girls giggled, whispering to one another as Ni-ki walked off, looking slightly flustered. You could almost see the faint hint of red on his cheeks, though he composed himself quickly and made his way toward his usual spot.

“That’s Ni-ki, right?” one of your friends, Natty, said, nudging you with her elbow.

You blinked, realizing your friends were now watching him. “Yeah,” you said nonchalantly, though your gaze lingered on him as he passed by.

“He’s gotten so handsome lately,” another friend chimed in, resting her chin on her hand as she stared after him. “I mean, look at him! The hair, the way he’s dressing now… I swear, it’s like he had a total glow-up overnight.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, and you quickly looked down at your plate, hoping no one would notice.

“He’s always been cute,” Natty said, shrugging. “But now? It’s like… he’s confident. And confidence is hot.”

“I heard he’s been helping out in some of his classes too,” another friend added. “Like, tutoring and stuff. Smart and good-looking? Talk about the whole package.”

You tried to focus on your food, but the conversation buzzed around you, and you couldn’t help but feel a strange twinge in your chest as your friends continued to gush over Ni-ki.

“Hey,” Natty said suddenly, leaning closer to you. “You’ve been hanging out with him a lot lately, haven’t you? What’s that about?”

Your head shot up, eyes wide. “What? No, we’re just… friends,” you said quickly, waving off her question. “He likes crime novels, and we talk about them sometimes. That’s all.”

“Just friends?” Natty teased, raising an eyebrow. “Are you sure? Because he definitely looks at you like you’re more than just a friend.”

Your heart skipped a beat at her words, and you frowned, shaking your head. “You’re imagining things.”

But even as you said it, you couldn’t shake the memory of Ni-ki’s lingering glances, the way he leaned closer when he spoke to you, or how his hand would sometimes brush against yours when he handed you something.

Across the cafeteria, Ni-ki had taken a seat by himself, but before he started eating, his eyes flicked in your direction. It was only for a moment, but it was enough to make your stomach flip.

Natty noticed too, smirking as she nudged you again. “See? I told you. He’s totally into you.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Can we please change the subject?”

Your friends laughed, but they eventually let it go, moving on to other topics. Still, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at Ni-ki again, only to find him smiling softly to himself as he ate.

And for some reason, that little smile made your heart race even more than it already was.

The day had dragged on, the sun was low on the horizon as you started your walk home, the familiar path quiet except for the occasional car passing by. You had just popped in your earbuds when the sound of hurried footsteps broke through the music.

Frowning, you glanced over your shoulder, only to see Ni-ki sprinting toward you, waving one arm while clutching his bag with the other. His glasses were slightly crooked, his hair a little disheveled from the run, but he wore that familiar smile that seemed to make your day just a little brighter.

“Wait up!” he called, slightly breathless as he closed the distance between you.

You stopped, giving him time to catch his breath. “You okay there, track star?” you teased as he bent over, hands on his knees, trying to steady his breathing.

“Yeah,” he panted, straightening up and flashing you a grin. “Just… didn’t want to lose you before I asked.”

“Asked what?” you said, tilting your head.

He shifted his bag higher on his shoulder. “Do you want to come over and study? I mean, if you’re not busy or anything. I thought we could go over some of that exam stuff together, maybe watch something after…”

You raised an eyebrow at him, suppressing a smile. “You ran all the way here to ask me that?”

Ni-ki shrugged, a faint pink dusting his cheeks as he looked away. “Well… yeah. It seemed important.”

You chuckled softly, noticing how his glasses were sitting askew on his face from the sprint. Without thinking, you stepped closer, reaching up to gently adjust them. “There,” you said, your voice softer now. “That’s better.”

Ni-ki blinked at you, clearly startled by the gesture, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. For a moment, he just stood there, looking at you with an expression you couldn’t quite place—something warm, something soft, something that made your heart skip.

You cleared your throat, stepping back and turning toward the direction of his dorm building. “Alright, let’s go,” you said, trying to ignore the sudden heat rising to your face.

Ni-ki followed after you, his footsteps light but quick, and you didn’t notice the way his eyes lingered on you as he walked behind. There was a small, almost shy smile on his face, one he didn’t bother hiding now that you weren’t looking.

By the time you reached the building, the sky had darkened, the streetlights flickering on. Ni-ki held the door open for you, letting you step in first, and as you made your way toward the stairs, you felt his presence behind you—quiet but steady.

“You’ve really got a thing for last-minute plans, huh?” you said, glancing back at him with a teasing smile.

“Only with you,” he replied smoothly, his tone light, but there was a glimmer of sincerity in his eyes that caught you off guard.

You laughed, shaking your head. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s see if you can actually focus on studying this time.”

Ni-ki just grinned, following you up the stairs, his heart racing for reasons that had nothing to do with the earlier sprint.

The moment you stepped into Ni-ki’s apartment, you were greeted by the faint scent of laundry detergent and something sweet—probably the remnants of whatever he had for breakfast that morning.

“Make yourself at home,” he said, slipping off his shoes and gesturing toward his room.

You followed him in, setting your bag down on the floor.

“Alright,” Ni-ki said, plopping down onto the floor and pulling out his notebook. “Let’s get this over with before my brain decides to shut off completely.”

You laughed, sitting down across from him and pulling out your own notes. “You’re the one who wanted to study, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, flipping through his book. “Just don’t let me slack off too much.”

For a while, the two of you worked in relative silence, the sound of pages turning and pens scratching against paper filling the room. Every now and then, one of you would ask a question, leading to brief discussions as you helped each other out.

“Wait, is this right?” Ni-ki asked at one point, sliding his notebook over to you.

You leaned over to take a look, your brows furrowing as you scanned his work. “Almost. You forgot to carry this number over here,” you said, pointing it out with the tip of your pen.

Ni-ki groaned, dropping his head onto the desk dramatically. “Why is math like this? What did I ever do to deserve this kind of suffering?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his theatrics. “Come on, it’s not that bad. You’re just overthinking it.”

“Easy for you to say,” he grumbled, lifting his head to look at you. “You’re like a human calculator.”

“Flattery won’t get you out of this,” you teased, nudging his notebook back toward him.

He gave you a mock pout but picked up his pen again, dutifully fixing his mistake.

A little while later, you were both leaning back against the bed, taking a break as you sipped on the canned drinks Ni-ki had grabbed from his fridge.

“Okay, serious question,” Ni-ki said, turning to you with a mischievous glint in his eye.

You raised an eyebrow, wary but intrigued. “What?”

“If you had to choose between being stuck on a deserted island with me or having to solve a murder mystery with me, which one would you pick?”

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the random question. “Uh… I don’t know. What kind of murder mystery?”

“The really dramatic kind,” he said, leaning closer with an exaggerated serious expression. “Lots of twists, lots of danger. Like, we’d be running for our lives half the time.”

You pretended to think about it, tapping your chin. “In that case… definitely the murder mystery. At least then I’d have something to keep me entertained.”

Ni-ki gasped, clutching his chest like you’d just mortally wounded him. “Wow. I see how it is. I’m just boring company on a deserted island, huh?”

You laughed, nudging him playfully. “That’s not what I said!”

“Sure, sure,” he said, grinning as he took another sip of his drink. “I’ll remember this the next time you need my help with something.”

The banter continued as you both returned to studying, the playful energy making the work feel less tedious. Ni-ki had a way of turning even the most mundane moments into something fun, and you found yourself smiling more often than not.

At one point, he leaned over to steal a glance at your notebook, his shoulder brushing against yours. “Are you sure this is right?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.

“Yes, it’s right,” you said, rolling your eyes. “You can double-check it if you don’t believe me.”

He smirked, leaning closer. “Nah, I trust you. You’re too smart to get it wrong.”

The compliment, paired with his proximity, made your cheeks heat up, and you quickly looked away, focusing on your notebook to hide your reaction.

Ni-ki noticed, of course. He always noticed. But instead of teasing you further, he simply chuckled and went back to his own work, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

After a while, Ni-ki let out a long sigh, dropping his pen dramatically onto his notebook. “I’m officially done. I can’t stare at numbers and letters any longer without my brain exploding.”

You glanced at him, amused. “You’re giving up already? I thought you wanted to study.”

“I did,” he said, flopping onto his back like a starfish. “But now I want to do something fun. Come on, let’s play a game.”

You raised an eyebrow. “A game? Like what?”

He sat up quickly, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “On my console. I’ve got a few multiplayer games. We’ll do a couple of rounds—you’re not scared to lose, are you?”

“Oh, please,” you said, rolling your eyes as you stood up to follow him to his console setup. “You’re the one who should be worried.”

He smirked, grabbing two controllers and handing you one. “We’ll see about that.”

As the game loaded, you both got comfortable on the floor, sitting cross-legged with a pile of snacks within reach. The first match started, and immediately, the competitive energy between you two ignited.

“Ni-ki, what are you doing?” you teased as his character fell off the map for the third time in a row. “You’re not even trying, are you?”

His ears turned red as he adjusted his glasses, fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie. “I-I’m just warming up! Wait until the next round; you won’t even stand a chance.”

You grinned, loving the way he stumbled over his words. “Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that.”

The next match started, and this time Ni-ki was clearly putting in more effort. He managed to take the lead, and when you lost the round, he leaned back with a triumphant smirk.

“Looks like you’re the one who should be worried,” he said, his tone dripping with playful confidence.

You felt your face heat up as you avoided his gaze, grumbling under your breath. “Lucky shot. I wasn’t even trying.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, leaning a little closer to nudge your shoulder. “Excuses, excuses. Just admit I’m better.”

You turned to glare at him, but the way his eyes sparkled with amusement made it hard to stay mad. Instead, you shoved his arm lightly. “Don’t get too cocky, Ni-ki. I’ll destroy you in the next one.”

The back-and-forth continued as you played match after match, the teasing only escalating as the wins and losses stacked up on both sides. Every time you won, Ni-ki would blush and fidget, either pushing his glasses up his nose or tugging on the sleeves of his hoodie.

“Seriously, how are you so good at this?” he muttered after losing another round, his voice a mix of frustration and awe.

“I told you, you should’ve been worried,” you said, grinning as you leaned back, basking in your victory.

But then Ni-ki got his revenge in the next game, and when you lost, he didn’t hold back.

“Aw, what happened?” he said, his voice dripping with mock concern. “I thought you were supposed to be good at this.”

You huffed, crossing your arms as your cheeks burned. “I just… got distracted, that’s all.”

“Sure,” he said, his grin widening. “Keep telling yourself that.”

The teasing was relentless, but you couldn’t deny how much fun you were having. Even as you tried to avoid looking at him after his jabs, you could feel his gaze on you, warm and amused.

When the final match ended—Ni-ki winning by a narrow margin—you let out a dramatic groan, flopping onto your back. “Ugh, I can’t believe you beat me.”

He laughed, leaning over you slightly. “See? I told you I’d win eventually.”

You looked up at him, your pout fading as you saw the way his eyes crinkled at the corners from his smile. For a moment, you forgot all about the game, too caught up in the way he looked so happy and carefree.

“Well,” you said finally, sitting up and brushing some imaginary dust off your pants. “Don’t get used to it. Next time, I’m coming for that win.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” he said, his voice softening slightly.

You weren’t sure what to say to that, so you busied yourself with tidying up the controllers and snack wrappers.

You glanced out the window and froze for a moment, realizing how dark it had gotten. The streetlights outside cast long, flickering shadows along the quiet road. Your heart dropped when you checked the time on your phone: 9:57 PM.

"Shit," you muttered under your breath, hurriedly grabbing your things and stuffing them into your bag. You barely noticed Ni-ki watching you, his head tilted curiously as he leaned back on his hands.

"Leaving already?" he asked, his tone light, though something in his voice felt... reluctant.

You slung your bag over your shoulder, giving him a quick, apologetic smile. "Yeah, I didn’t realize how late it got. I need to get home before it gets any darker out. I’ll see you Monday, okay?"

Ni-ki opened his mouth as if to say something, but then stopped himself, giving you a small nod instead. "Alright, be careful."

You waved at him, muttering a quick, "Bye!" before rushing out of his dorm room and into the hallway.

The building was eerily quiet as you made your way outside, the cool night air hitting your face the moment you stepped through the door. You tightened your grip on your bag, glancing around the street. It was unsettling how empty it felt, but you didn’t have time to dwell on it.

You walked quickly, your footsteps echoing on the pavement. Normally, you’d pop in your earbuds and listen to music to keep yourself company, but tonight, the thought of not hearing what was around you made your stomach twist. Instead, you kept your ears open, alert to every little sound.

The streets were mostly quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves or the faint hum of a car in the distance. Still, the shadows seemed to move differently tonight, stretching and shifting in ways that made your pulse quicken.

Your pace quickened as well. The faster you walked, the closer you got to home, where you could lock the door and feel safe.

Your heart leapt at the sound of footsteps echoing behind you. They were uneven, dragging slightly against the pavement. You froze mid-step, your breath catching in your throat, and slowly turned around.

A man stumbled a little ways behind you, his silhouette illuminated by the dim glow of a streetlamp. His gait was unsteady, his head lolling slightly to the side, and in his hand was a beer bottle, half-empty and dangling precariously.

The strong stench of alcohol hit you even from a distance, and your pulse eased slightly. Just a drunk guy, you told yourself.

Still, something about the way he moved unsettled you. His eyes seemed unfocused, yet he kept glancing up in your direction, like he was aware of you but trying not to be obvious about it.

You tightened your grip on your bag and turned back around, walking faster now. The sound of his footsteps didn’t fade; if anything, they seemed to quicken as well.

Your stomach twisted, and you glanced back again. The man was closer this time, his lips curling into a sloppy smirk.

“Hey!” he slurred, his voice loud and grating. “Where you goin’ in such a hurry?”

You ignored him, your heart racing as you picked up your pace.

“Hey! I’m talkin’ to you!” he called out again, louder this time. You heard the sound of glass clinking, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw him waving the beer bottle at you.

Panic bubbled in your chest. You debated breaking into a sprint, but you didn’t want to show fear—or worse, give him a reason to chase after you.

Instead, you ducked your head and turned sharply down a side street, hoping to lose him.

But the footsteps followed, faster now.

“Hey! Don’t walk away from me!” he shouted, his voice taking on an edge of irritation.

Your breathing quickened, your mind racing as you glanced around for an escape. The street was too empty, too quiet. There was no one to call for help, no open stores, no witnesses.

“C’mon, woman!” he slurred, closer than before. “Just talk to me for a second!”

He made your skin crawl, and without thinking, you broke into a run.

“Hey!” you heard him shout behind you, his footsteps pounding against the pavement as he gave chase.

You turned a corner sharply, your chest heaving as you pushed yourself to go faster. Your legs burned, your bag bouncing against your back, but you didn’t dare slow down.

When you glanced back over your shoulder, your stomach dropped. He was still following, his face twisted into a drunken snarl.

Your heart thundered as you looked ahead, desperately searching for somewhere—anywhere—to hide. That’s when you saw it: a narrow alleyway, tucked between two buildings.

Without thinking, you darted into it, pressing yourself against the wall and holding your breath. The shadows swallowed you whole, and you prayed he wouldn’t notice where you’d gone.

The sound of his footsteps grew louder, then slower, until finally, they stopped.

“Where the hell—” you heard him mutter, his voice slurred and irritated.

You peeked around the corner just in time to see him scratching his head and muttering to himself before walking away.

Relief flooded through you, and you let out a shaky breath, your back sliding against the wall as you sank to the ground.

Your hands trembled as you fumbled through your bag, desperately searching for your phone. After a frantic few moments, you realized with a sinking feeling—you’d left it at Ni-ki’s place.

“Damn it,” you muttered under your breath, running a hand through your hair. You were too shaken to think straight, but you needed your phone. It wasn’t safe to be out here without it.

With a reluctant sigh, you pushed yourself off the wall and started walking back toward Ni-ki’s dorm. The streets felt even quieter now, the darkness pressing in around you. Every step you took echoed loudly in your ears, and your heartbeat hadn’t fully calmed from the earlier chase.

You were halfway there when a sudden shout split through the silence, followed by a loud, sickening thud.

You froze in place, your head snapping toward the source of the sound. It came from an alley just a few steps ahead.

Instinct told you to keep walking, to pretend you hadn’t heard anything. But curiosity—morbid and insistent—had you inching closer to the alleyway. You peered into the darkness, your breath hitching as your eyes struggled to adjust.

At first, there was nothing. Just the oppressive blackness of the alley. You were about to turn away, deciding it wasn’t worth it, when you heard a faint shuffle.

And then he stumbled out.

The drunk man.

Your stomach churned at the sight of him—his steps were unsteady, but it wasn’t alcohol this time. No, it was the knife protruding from his chest, the hilt gleaming faintly under the dim streetlights. Blood poured from the wound, staining his shirt and dripping onto the ground in thick, steady splatters.

Your mind blanked as you stared, your body frozen in place. He staggered a few steps closer before collapsing onto the pavement, his lifeless eyes staring up at the sky.

You opened your mouth to scream, but the sound died in your throat as your gaze flicked upward.

He was there.

Standing in the shadows of the alley, his white mask almost glowing against the darkness, he tilted his head at you in that familiar, unnerving way, and though you couldn’t see his face, you could feel his eyes locked on you.

"Ah, sweetheart," his voice drawled, smooth and almost teasing. “We really have to stop meeting like this.”

Your heart nearly stopped. Without thinking, you spun around, ready to run—but you weren’t fast enough.

Before you could take more than a step, his hand shot out, grabbing your arm and yanking you back with a terrifying amount of strength. You barely had time to gasp before he twisted you around, pinning you against the cold, rough wall of the alley.

You struggled, kicking and thrashing, but he caught both your wrists in one hand, pressing them firmly behind your back. His chest pressed against your back, trapping you in place, and you could feel the heat of his breath as he leaned in close to your ear.

“He deserved it,” he whispered, his voice low and almost intimate. “Didn’t you see the way he was looking at you? Following you? Touching you with his eyes like you were something he could take?”

You tried to protest, to tell him to let you go, but your voice refused to cooperate.

“You should be thanking me,” he murmured, his tone laced with dark amusement. “If it weren’t for me, who knows what that disgusting piece of trash would’ve done to you?”

His words sent a chill down your spine, but the way he said them—like he truly believed he’d done you a favor—made your stomach twist.

“You should give me a reward, sweetheart,” he purred, his lips brushing dangerously close to your ear. “I’ve been so good to you, haven’t I? Taking care of all the people who hurt you.”

“L-let me go,” you managed to choke out, your voice trembling.

He chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “Oh, but I’m not done yet,” he said, his grip on your wrists tightening slightly. “Not until you say it.”

“S-say what?” you stammered.

“Thank you,” he said simply, his voice still teasing but with an edge that made it clear he wasn’t joking. “Go on, sweetheart. Say thank you to your savior.”

You writhed in his grip, twisting and struggling to free yourself, but his hold was unyielding. Every movement you made only seemed to amuse him further.

“Tsk, tsk,” he tutted softly, like a parent scolding a misbehaving child. “What’s this, sweetheart? Fighting me when I’ve done so much for you? That’s not very nice.”

“Let me go,” you hissed, your voice sharp despite the tremor in it.

Instead of responding, he shifted closer, his body pressing against yours as his free hand moved. You flinched, expecting the worst, but he simply brushed his gloved fingers against your neck, gently pushing your hair aside. The motion was slow, deliberate—almost tender.

“You really don’t know how to behave, do you?” he murmured, his voice soft but laced with something darker. “Here I am, protecting you, keeping you safe, and you don’t even say thank you. Instead, you fight me. Struggle against me. Like I’m the bad guy.”

The words sent a chill down your spine, the weight of them sinking into your chest.

“I didn’t ask for this!” you snapped, trying once more to pull your wrists free, but his grip only tightened.

“Ah, but that’s the beauty of it, sweetheart,” he said, his tone almost playful. “You didn’t have to. I wanted to do it. For you.”

His fingers trailed lightly over the nape of your neck, sending a shiver through your body that you couldn’t control.

“You don’t understand,” he whispered, leaning in closer until his masked face was right beside yours. “I see you. Every single day. You’re so… perfect. So pure. And they’re not. They don’t deserve to breathe the same air as you.”

“You’re insane,” you spat, your voice shaking.

“Maybe,” he admitted with a dark chuckle. “But I’m your kind of insane.”

His hand slid down, brushing over your shoulder in a mockery of comfort. “Say it,” he murmured again, his voice barely above a whisper now. “Say thank you. That’s all I want to hear.”

Your throat tightened, and you bit your lip, refusing to give him what he wanted. You wouldn’t play into whatever twisted game he was orchestrating.

But he sighed, the sound carrying a hint of disappointment. “Still being stubborn, huh?” he mused. “That’s okay. I like a challenge.”

His hand moved to your chin, tilting your face slightly to the side. Though you couldn’t see his expression behind the mask, you could feel his gaze burning into you, his intensity unnerving.

“You’ll come around,” he said softly, his voice dripping with certainty. “One day, you’ll see that I’m the only one who truly cares about you.”

Before you could respond, he pulled back slightly, his grip on your wrists loosening just enough for you to jerk free. Without looking back, you bolted, your heart pounding as your feet hit the pavement.

But even as you ran, his voice echoed in your mind, smooth and haunting.

“One day, sweetheart. You’ll thank me.”

You didn’t stop running until the bright lights of the police station came into view. Your chest burned, your breath coming in ragged gasps, but the overwhelming need for safety pushed you forward. Bursting through the station doors, you stumbled inside, drawing the attention of a few officers.

“I need help!” you blurted out, your voice trembling. “There’s been a... a murder. And I saw him. I saw the killer!”

The room went silent for a moment as the officers exchanged quick glances before one of them, a tall man with a kind but serious face, approached you.

“Alright, take a deep breath,” he said, guiding you to a chair. “Let’s get this sorted. Where did this happen?”

You described the location of the alleyway, your voice shaky as you recounted the events. The officer nodded, gesturing for another officer to dispatch units to the scene immediately. Within moments, two officers left the station, heading toward the area you described.

“Okay,” the tall officer said, sitting down across from you with a notepad. “We’re going to need a full report from you. Start from the beginning—everything you saw, everything you experienced.”

Your hands shook as you clasped them tightly together, trying to steady yourself. You closed your eyes for a moment, forcing yourself to recount every detail, no matter how horrifying.

You told them about walking home, the drunk man, and the sounds that had drawn you to the alley. You described the killer in as much detail as you could: the mask, the knife, the dark clothes. You hesitated when you got to the part where he cornered you, his words still ringing in your ears.

“He... he grabbed me,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “Pinned me against the wall. He said he was protecting me. That I should... thank him.”

The officer’s pen paused briefly on the notepad, his brows furrowing.

“He said he killed the man for me,” you continued, your throat tightening as you forced the words out. “That he was doing it because he cared about me.”

The officer leaned back slightly, his expression a mix of concern and disbelief. “Did you recognize him? Anything distinctive about his voice, his build, his mannerisms?”

You shook your head, feeling a wave of frustration and helplessness wash over you. “No. He wore a mask, and his voice... it was muffled. But he was tall, and he moved... like he was confident. Like he’d done this before.”

The officer nodded, jotting down your words. “You did the right thing coming here. We’ll have officers sweep the area, and we’ll add this information to the ongoing investigation.”

--

You sat in the station for what felt like an eternity, the hum of conversations and ringing phones fading into the background as your nerves took over. Every second that passed felt like it stretched longer than the last, the events of the night playing on a loop in your head.

Finally, the door swung open, and a pair of officers walked in, their expressions grim. One of them leaned in to speak with the tall officer who had taken your statement. After a brief conversation, he turned back to you and gestured for you to come over.

“They found the body,” he said quietly, his voice steady but laced with tension. “It was hidden behind some trash cans in the alley. The killer’s gone. But there’s something you need to see.”

Your stomach dropped, but you forced yourself to follow him to a desk where a computer screen was lit with grainy black-and-white footage.

“This is from a nearby CCTV camera,” the officer explained, clicking to play the video.

You leaned forward, your heart pounding as the footage started. There you were, walking down the street, your bag slung over your shoulder. You saw the drunk man trailing behind you, stumbling slightly, clutching the beer bottle. Your pulse quickened as you watched yourself pause and glance back before speeding up, the man still following.

The video cut briefly to another angle. The drunk man was now heading back down the street after you’d run. Suddenly, a shadow emerged from the alleyway. A figure stepped out behind him, silent and deliberate. The killer.

You watched, frozen, as the killer grabbed the man and pulled him into the alley in one swift motion. The man barely had time to react before disappearing into the shadows.

The screen flickered and you appeared, cautiously approaching the alley and stopping as if trying to decide whether to investigate. Then, just as you remembered, you turned and began walking away—only to get dragged in.

The next part made your blood run cold.

The camera caught the moment the killer stepped into view, just as you ran off-screen. He stopped in the middle of the street, standing there like a statue, watching you flee. Then, slowly, his head tilted upward, and he looked directly at the camera.

Even through the grainy footage, the gleaming white mask was unmistakable.

The killer stared into the camera for a long moment, tilting his head like a predator examining prey. Then, without any sense of urgency, he turned and disappeared into the shadows.

The officer paused the video, his jaw tight as he glanced at you. “The way he looked at the camera… it’s almost like he wanted us to see him.”

You couldn’t speak. Your throat felt dry, and your hands were clammy as you clutched the edge of the desk. The image of the masked figure burned into your mind was now accompanied by that chilling motion—the way he’d looked at the camera, unafraid, almost playful.

“Do you know him?” the officer asked gently, his tone careful.

You shook your head quickly, maybe a little too quickly. “No. I—I don’t know anyone who’d…” You trailed off, your voice faltering.

The officer studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Alright,” he said finally. “We’re going to keep investigating, and we’ll need to keep in contact with you. If anything—anything at all—comes to mind, you let us know.”

You nodded, your mind still racing as the image of the killer’s mask lingered.

The officer sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “For now, we’ll have someone escort you home. You shouldn’t be out there alone.”

Home. The thought of being alone right now was terrifying, but staying here with the memory of that footage wasn’t much better.

As an officer prepared to walk you out, you glanced back at the frozen frame on the screen. The mask, the tilted head, the casual way he’d turned and walked away.

He wasn’t just watching.

He was toying with you.

The car ride was quiet, the hum of the engine filling the silence as you stared out the window, your mind racing with everything that had happened. The officer glanced at you occasionally, likely noticing your pale complexion and tense posture.

As you neared your neighborhood, you suddenly remembered your phone. "Wait," you blurted out, sitting up straighter. "Can we stop by my friend's place? I left my phone there earlier."

The officer hesitated but nodded. “Alright, just make it quick. What’s the address?”

You rattled it off, and within minutes, the car pulled up in front of Ni-ki’s building. You quickly unbuckled your seatbelt, mumbling a soft, "I’ll be right back," before stepping out and jogging up to the building. Your stomach churned with unease as you entered and climbed the stairs.

When you reached Ni-ki’s door, you paused, glancing back down the hall. It was quiet, almost too quiet. Taking a deep breath, you raised your hand and knocked.

It took a few moments, but the door finally opened.

Ni-ki stood there, his damp hair pushed back messily, droplets of water still clinging to his neck. He had clearly just stepped out of the shower, wearing a loose hoodie and sweatpants that hung lazily on his frame.

“Hey,” he greeted with a soft smile, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. “I was wondering when you’d come back for this.” He held up your phone, which had been sitting on his desk.

You gave him a sheepish smile, reaching for it. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I got distracted earlier and completely forgot.”

He chuckled, leaning against the doorframe as he handed it to you. “No problem. You okay, though? You seem… tense.”

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, clutching the phone to your chest. “Just—uh, long day. Thanks, Ni-ki.”

Before he could say anything else, you turned and started walking back down the hall.

“Wait—” Ni-ki called after you, his voice tinged with concern. “You sure you’re okay? You’re acting weird.”

You ignored him, speeding up your pace. “I’m fine! See you Monday!”

“(Y/N)—”

You didn’t stop, practically jogging back to the police car. You climbed in, shutting the door behind you and exhaling deeply as the officer glanced at you in the rearview mirror.

“Got what you needed?” she asked.

“Yeah,” you muttered, not meeting her gaze.

The drive home was just as silent as before, the weight of the night pressing down on your chest. When the officer pulled up outside your apartment, she gave you a small nod. “Stay inside tonight. Lock your doors. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call.”

“Thank you,” you murmured, stepping out and heading to your door.

Once inside, you locked the door behind you, sliding the chain into place for extra security. You leaned against it, exhaling deeply as your heart continued to race.

You glanced at your phone, still clutched tightly in your hand, and felt a pang of guilt. Ni-ki had been nothing but kind to you, and you’d brushed him off so abruptly.

But you couldn’t stop thinking about the killer, about the way he’d spoken to you, about the way he’d looked at you. It was like his presence still lingered, even now, haunting you.

With a sigh, you set your phone down and headed to your room, determined to push the events of the night out of your mind. You needed sleep—desperately.

Your phone buzzed, pulling you from your thoughts. You glanced down, seeing a message from Ni-ki.

Ni-ki: Hey, you okay? I know you were in a rush earlier… If you need someone to talk to, I'm here.

A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips, but you couldn't quite shake off the tension in your chest. You quickly typed back.

You: Yeah, I’m fine. Just… been a weird day, you know?

You stared at the screen for a moment before adding:

You: Would you mind calling me? I could use someone to talk to…

It didn’t take long for him to reply.

Ni-ki: Of course. I’ll call you now.

A few moments later, your phone rang. You swiped to answer, bringing it to your ear.

“Hey,” Ni-ki’s voice came through, calm and warm, despite the underlying concern. “You doing okay now?”

You leaned back against the wall, feeling a sense of relief just hearing his voice.

“Yeah,” you replied softly. “Just… everything feels a little off tonight. I’m glad you messaged.”

He was quiet for a moment, and you could almost picture him thinking.

“I’m glad you reached out,” he said finally. “You don’t have to go through stuff like this alone. I know it might seem like everything’s chaotic, but you’ve got me. You can always talk to me.”

His words had an unexpected comfort to them, and you felt some of the weight lift off your shoulders.

“Thanks,” you said quietly. “I really appreciate it, Ni-ki.”

“I mean it,” he replied with a soft chuckle. “Anytime, seriously. If you need a distraction or just someone to listen, I’ve got you.”

You smiled to yourself, grateful for his kindness.

“Maybe we can talk more tomorrow, huh? I’ll make sure to check in on you again. Don’t want you feeling like this all night.”

You felt a slight pang of guilt but quickly pushed it away.

“I’ll be okay. And… thanks again. I’m just gonna try to get some sleep.”

“Sounds good. Get some rest, and if anything comes up, just text me, alright?”

“I will. Goodnight, Ni-ki.”

“Goodnight,” he said, the sincerity in his voice making you feel a little lighter.

As you ended the call, you leaned back into your pillow, feeling a bit more at ease.

--

The doorbell rang again the next morning, pulling you from your thoughts. You blinked, confused, before walking over to the door and pulling it open. To your surprise, there stood Ni-ki, looking as effortlessly stylish as ever, wearing a relaxed smile.

“I’m taking you to the mall,” he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

You stared at him for a moment, your eyes widening. “Wait, what? You’re... what?”

Ni-ki chuckled, clearly amused by your reaction. “I figured you could use a little break. You’ve been cooped up here long enough.”

You glanced at the clock. It was a bit earlier than you expected. “But I—”

Before you could protest any further, you heard the sound of your own feet hitting the floor as you dashed towards your bedroom. “Give me a second! I need to get dressed!”

Ni-ki didn’t seem to mind. He just chuckled again, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “Take your time. I’ll be here.”

You quickly pulled your clothes out of your closet, racing against the clock to change, but as you did, you could hear the soft sound of Ni-ki sitting on the couch, the hum of his phone as he likely scrolled through something. Even as you hurried to change, you couldn’t help but feel a little nervous—he was waiting for you.

After awhile, you stepped out, having finally gotten dressed in something comfortable but still cute enough for a day out. You were still adjusting your jacket when you caught sight of Ni-ki, his attention fixed on his phone.

“You ready?” he asked, glancing up from his phone when he noticed you stepping into the living room.

You nodded, feeling a little bashful but excited at the same time. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Ni-ki grinned and stood up, tossing his phone onto the couch. “I knew you’d be ready in no time.”

Ni-ki led the way out of the apartment, holding the door open for you. The cool air greeted you as you stepped outside, and for the first time in a while, you felt a sense of calm settle over you

As you both walked to the car, Ni-ki kept his usual easygoing demeanor, flashing you an occasional grin, but his eyes held a warmth that made you feel at ease.

Once you got to the car, Ni-ki opened the door for you with a dramatic bow. “After you, milady,” he teased, his smile playful.

You laughed, stepping into the car. “You’re a dork,” you said, shaking your head.

He slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine, the car pulling out of the parking lot as he hummed along to the song on the radio. The drive was smooth, with Ni-ki chatting casually, asking about how you’d been feeling lately, if you were still swamped with schoolwork, and if you had any specific things you wanted to do at the mall.

“I’m just along for the ride, really,” you said, feeling a little more relaxed with each passing moment. “I’m happy to just hang out.”

Ni-ki glanced at you, his lips curving upward. “Good, ‘cause I was planning on getting us some snacks, trying on some clothes, and maybe finding something ridiculous to make you laugh.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “I’m down for that,” you agreed.

The ride went by quickly, with the two of you talking and joking about random things, from bad fashion choices to the latest crime drama episode you both had watched recently. When the mall came into view, Ni-ki parked the car, giving you a quick glance. “Ready to have some fun?”

You nodded, your smile wide. “Absolutely.”

You and Ni-ki wandered through the mall, hopping from store to store, trying on ridiculous hats and laughing at each other’s choices. He picked out a bright pink beanie with oversized ears, putting it on your head and grinning mischievously. "You should totally rock this look," he teased, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

You rolled your eyes but played along, giving a dramatic twirl. "Do you think it brings out my eyes?" you joked, striking a pose.

Ni-ki’s smile widened, and he leaned in slightly, as if seriously considering the question. "Honestly? It definitely makes your eyes pop. Maybe not in the way you think, though."

You burst into laughter, nudging him playfully in the side. "You’re ridiculous," you said between giggles. But you didn’t mind—it felt good to laugh, to feel normal for once.

After some time, you both left the store, each with a few new items in hand, and wandered into the food court. Ni-ki, ever the expert in decision-making, immediately made a beeline for the bubble tea stand. “You want your usual?” he asked, already pulling out his wallet.

“Of course,” you said with a grin. “You know me too well.”

As you waited for your drinks, Ni-ki leaned against the counter casually, his expression relaxed. “This was fun, right? I’m glad you decided to come out with me today.” His tone was light, but there was something behind it—an undercurrent of sincerity that made you pause.

You smiled back at him, grateful for the day. “Yeah. I needed this... more than I thought.”

The bubble tea arrived, and the two of you walked over to a nearby table, settling in with your drinks. Ni-ki took a sip of his, then glanced over at you, his brow furrowing just slightly. "So, how have you been holding up? I know everything’s been... a little crazy lately."

You hesitated for a moment, not wanting to drag the mood down, but knowing Ni-ki would probably notice if you didn’t say something. You took a deep breath, sipping your tea as you tried to find the right words.

"I’ve been okay," you said, after a beat. "Some days are better than others, but... it’s easier when I’m with people I trust. Like you."

Ni-ki gave you a soft smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Good. I’m glad I’m one of those people,” he said, his voice gentle.

You both fell into a comfortable silence, sipping your drinks and occasionally exchanging a few words.

Afterwards you were strolling through the aisles of the store, enjoying the soft hum of the background music and the peaceful atmosphere, when something caught your eye—a shelf full of adorable plushies. You couldn’t resist, and you found yourself picking up a cute little bear, smiling at how soft it was. But in that moment of distraction, you didn’t realize that Ni-ki had wandered off somewhere else in the store.

A few moments later, you heard the voices.

At first, they were distant, but slowly they grew louder, the tone dripping with mockery. You turned to see a group of familiar faces from school—some guys and girls who were known for their snide remarks.

“Wow, look at this,” one of the guys sneered. “All grown up, and still playing with toys?”

You felt your stomach tighten, but you didn’t let it show. You had heard this all before. Still, the words felt heavier today.

“You know, you should really grow up,” another girl added, laughing with the rest of them. “It’s kind of embarrassing, don’t you think?”

Normally, you’d brush it off with a sarcastic remark or a clever comeback, but today was different. You just couldn’t summon the energy to fight back. Instead, you gave a quiet, “It’s just a plushie,” and shrugged, turning to walk away.

But that didn’t stop them.

“Really, you’re such a child. It’s honestly pathetic,” the girl said, her voice mocking.

You stopped in your tracks, taking a deep breath. You were about to walk away again when she added something that made your blood run cold.

“You’re just as pathetic as Ni-ki. He probably doesn’t even care about you?”

The words were like a slap to the face. Without thinking, your eyes snapped toward her, your glare icy.

“You don’t know anything about us,” you hissed, your voice low and sharp. “Maybe you should focus on your own life instead of judging others.”

The girl’s expression faltered, but she wasn’t done. With a malicious grin, she raised her hand, ready to slap you across the face.

But before she could, a strong hand shot out, gripping her wrist firmly.

“Don’t even think about it,” came a low, dangerous voice.

You looked up in surprise to see Ni-ki, towering over the group. His usual relaxed posture was gone, replaced by a stance of quiet fury. The others fell silent, their eyes wide.

Ni-ki’s grip on the girl’s wrist tightened, and she yelped, trying to pull away. But Ni-ki didn’t budge.

“They can make fun of me all they want,” he said, his voice cold and low, each word laced with intensity. “But if you ever, ever make fun of her again, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

The girl blinked up at him, looking stunned, but Ni-ki didn’t release his hold. He was a completely different person now, standing tall that made it clear he wasn’t going to let anyone make fun of you—not now, not ever.

The group shifted uncomfortably, clearly not used to seeing him like this. Ni-ki’s gaze never wavered from the girl, who was still trying to wriggle out of his grip. He spoke again, his words cutting through the tension like a knife.

“If I hear you even think about messing with her again, I’ll make sure it’s the last time. Got it?”

The girl’s face went pale, and after a moment, she finally pulled her wrist from his grasp. She didn’t say anything else—she didn’t have to. Ni-ki had made his point clear.

As the group scattered, you stood there in shock, your heart pounding in your chest. You weren’t sure whether to feel relieved or overwhelmed by the intensity of it all.

Ni-ki turned to you, his expression softening slightly, though there was still a hint of that protective edge. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice gentler now.

You nodded, still processing everything. “Yeah… Thanks. I guess I owe you one,” you said.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said with a shrug, his usual smile returning. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

With that, the two of you continued your walk through the store.

--

The rain poured down heavily, a soft, constant drumming against the window as you sat at your kitchen table. You were absentmindedly eating your cereal when the sound of the TV caught your attention. The news anchor’s voice was steady but the words were jarring.

“A group of teens, including some local college students, have been reported missing. Authorities are investigating their whereabouts, but no leads have been found as of now.”

You froze, the spoon in your hand slipping from your grip and clattering to the floor. The world around you seemed to freeze for a moment, your heart skipping a beat. It took a few seconds for the words to register—teens, a group, missing.

You couldn’t help but feel the creeping dread settle in your chest. You quickly stood up, your movements rushed and frantic.

You put your bowl down with shaking hands, grabbed your phone, keys, and bag, not even bothering to grab a proper breakfast. You yanked on your jacket, grabbed your umbrella, and rushed out the door, the sound of the rain growing louder as you fought against the storm.

When you finally reached the school grounds, the rain hadn’t let up. You were drenched, but it didn’t matter. You immediately zeroed in on Ni-ki’s tall frame, his head down as he rifled through his bag, clearly looking for something.

You took a deep breath and made your way toward him, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you.

"Ni-ki!" you called out, stepping forward.

He jumped in surprise, his body stiffening as he spun around to look at you. His wide eyes softened when he saw you, though there was an edge of confusion in his expression.

“Hey,” he said, his voice still heavy with sleep, probably because it was so early. "You okay? You’re all wet.”

You nodded quickly, shaking your umbrella as you stood in front of him. "Yeah, I’m fine. I just—" You paused, your heart hammering in your chest. "Did you hear about the missing teens?"

Ni-ki’s face went still for a moment, his eyes narrowing. Then he sighed and ran a hand through his damp hair, as if processing everything in his head. “Yeah. I heard. I don’t know… it’s weird, right? Some of them were people from school.”

You nodded, feeling a pit grow in your stomach. “Yeah. It’s just… strange, with everything that’s been happening lately.” You bit your lip, trying to read his face. He wasn’t showing any obvious signs of worry, but then again, Ni-ki had always been good at hiding his emotions when it suited him.

Ni-ki paused, his expression hardening for a moment. “I know. But we don’t know anything for sure yet. I’m sure the police will figure it out.”

You studied him for a moment, watching how composed he was despite the situation. He was always so calm, but today it was different. You noticed how his shoulders were just a little stiffer than usual, his gaze just a little more distant, though he quickly returned his focus to you.

“Come on,” he said after a moment, his smile returning, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Let’s get to class.”

You nodded, following him, but the unease that had settled in your chest refused to leave. Something felt off.

The entire day felt off, like there was an invisible weight pressing on you, pulling your attention in a thousand directions. As you sat in class, your fingers kept scrolling through your phone, searching for any new information about the missing students. Every news site you checked had the same vague updates, all of them repeating the same information—the authorities were still investigating, but there were no leads. The unease grew heavier in your chest with each passing minute.

You didn’t even realize you weren’t paying attention to the lesson until the teacher called on you, pulling you back to reality with a jolt. You hastily tried to catch up, your mind racing with thoughts about what might be happening. The missing students. The weird, unsettling feeling that something was wrong.

As the bell rang for the next class, you absentmindedly packed up your things, your mind still elsewhere. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t notice Ni-ki sitting next to you, watching you with a careful, intense gaze.

It wasn’t until he spoke that you realized he’d been looking at you for a while. His voice was low, almost dangerous in its calmness.

“You haven’t been paying attention all day,” he said, his tone not accusatory but focused, like he was analyzing every little thing. “What’s going on?”

You looked up, surprised by the directness in his tone. Ni-ki’s eyes weren’t his usual playful, teasing self—they were sharp, focused, and a little darker than usual. There was something in them that made your heart race, something you couldn’t quite place.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to tell him what you were feeling, or if it was just your imagination running wild. The tension in the air seemed to thicken as he waited for you to respond, and despite everything, you felt the need to be honest with him.

“I don’t know…” you trailed off, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you. “It’s just… something feels wrong, Ni-ki. There’s this whole thing with the missing students, and it doesn’t feel like it’s over. I keep thinking about all of it. I can’t stop.”

Ni-ki’s gaze never left you as you spoke, and he gave a slight nod, as if he understood. The tension in his eyes didn’t fade, though—if anything, it seemed to grow.

“You’re not the only one who feels it,” he said quietly. “But you’ve got to be careful. People don’t always show their true faces. And sometimes, the things that feel wrong are just the beginning.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words sinking into you. There was something about the way he said it—like he knew more than he was letting on. You wanted to ask him more, to press him for details, but the way he looked at you made you think better of it.

Instead, you gave a small, uneasy nod. “I’ll keep that in mind,” you replied, though you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were already caught up in something much bigger than you realized.

Ni-ki turned his gaze away after a moment, but not before his eyes flickered down to your hand, which you had been fidgeting with absentmindedly. He seemed to think about something for a second, and then, without warning, he reached out and gently brushed his fingers over yours. The simple touch was enough to send a jolt through your body, but when he met your eyes again, his expression had softened, almost reassuring.

“Don’t let it consume you,” he said, his voice more tender now, as if trying to comfort you in his own way. “We’ll figure it out, together.”

You nodded, though you weren’t sure what he meant by together.

After school, you had made up your mind not to stay out too late. You just wanted to get home, rest, and focus on the things you needed to catch up on. The bus ride was uneventful, and you felt a small sense of relief as you stepped off and made your way home. The familiar walk up to your building gave you a little comfort, and you entered quickly, glad to be out of the rain.

Once inside, you kicked off your shoes, tossed your bag onto the couch, and went straight for the bathroom to wash away the stress of the day. The hot water from the shower was soothing, and you stood there for a while, letting it run over your shoulders as you closed your eyes, lost in the sensation of warmth and calm.

When you finally stepped out, wrapped in a towel, you dried off and got dressed in something comfortable, and started studying, but a few hours later your stomach growled loudly, a reminder that it had been far too long since you’d eaten.

You sighed, glancing at the clock. It was already late, and you had hardly eaten all day. You stood up from your desk, stretched, and made your way to the kitchen to see what you could scrounge up. As you opened the fridge, you found a few things—a block of cheese, some leftover rice, some random vegetables—but not nearly enough to make a decent meal. Your eyes landed on the empty shelf where you normally kept the essentials like eggs, bread, and a few other things.

You cursed under your breath.

You hadn’t gone grocery shopping in a while, and it was becoming apparent just how low on supplies you were. You’d been putting it off for days, but now you were paying the price. You pulled out your phone to make a quick list of the things you needed to pick up: eggs, bread, some fresh produce, and whatever else would make an easy dinner. You threw on a jacket, grabbed your phone and keys, and headed back out the door.

The chill of the evening air hit you as soon as you stepped outside. You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself, the rain still lightly falling from the sky. The store wasn’t too far, but you’d be walking through puddles, and you could already feel the dampness creeping into your shoes. Still, you needed the food, so you picked up your pace and headed in the direction of the local grocery store.

By the time you reached the entrance, you had that familiar grocery store smell—the faint scent of freshly baked bread mixed with the cool air of refrigeration—and you pushed open the door, ready to get what you needed and get back home.

You grabbed your essentials—some vegetables, some rice, and a few other ingredients to make the dinner you had planned.

You walked out of the store, the cold evening air hitting your face as you carefully balanced your bag of groceries. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you pulled it out, glancing at it absentmindedly as you began to make your way back to your apartment. You swiped through a few messages and notifications, barely paying attention to the route you were taking.

But when you finally looked up, you froze.

The street around you didn’t look familiar at all. You glanced back, realizing you must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. Your surroundings had shifted from the usual city bustle to an unfamiliar area with dilapidated houses lining the street. The buildings looked old, their windows boarded up, and the paint on the walls was chipped, peeling away from years of neglect. The street was quiet, almost eerily so, and the air felt still in a way that made your skin prickle.

You checked your phone to see your location, but it didn't help much. You could have sworn you’d taken the right path.

You stood for a moment, considering whether to retrace your steps or try to find another route back home. That’s when the sound reached your ears—a sharp, blood-curdling scream. Your heart skipped a beat. It echoed through the quiet, a cry filled with terror and desperation.

Your mind screamed at you to turn around, to keep walking and get back to the familiar streets. But something inside you stirred—a compulsion you couldn’t shake. Another scream, followed by a cry for help, rang out, louder this time. The desperation in the voice pulled at you like an invisible thread.

Without fully realizing it, you started moving toward the sound. You glanced around nervously, double-checking that you weren’t being followed, but all you could see were the looming, abandoned houses. The streetlights flickered sporadically, casting long, haunting shadows over the cracked pavement. The atmosphere felt heavy, suffocating.

You set your groceries down carefully on the ground, the sound of the bag crinkling in the quiet making you pause for a moment. You slowly made your way toward the large house where the screams had come from. It stood at the end of the street, a large, imposing structure with peeling paint and broken windows. It looked almost like a mansion at one point, but now it was barely standing, with decay eating away at its foundation.

You hesitated, but that instinct in you, the one telling you to keep moving, pushed you forward. You approached the front door, cautiously reaching out to try the handle. To your surprise, it turned easily, creaking as the door slowly opened with little resistance.

The inside was just as unsettling as the outside. It was dark, the only light coming from the weak glow of the streetlights outside, filtering through the broken windows. Dust clung to every surface, and the air smelled stale, like it hadn’t been disturbed in years. You hesitated for a moment, then pulled out your phone and turned on the flashlight. The small beam of light illuminated the eerie interior, casting long shadows along the walls.

You walked quietly, each step careful, your heart hammering in your chest. There was an unsettling silence now, the kind that makes every creak of the floorboard seem like an alarm ringing.

As you moved through the rooms, you found only remnants of the house’s former life—old furniture covered in dust, paintings half-faded with age, and broken mirrors hanging crookedly on the walls. It didn’t feel right, like the house itself was hiding something.

You continued forward, your pulse racing, until you saw the stairs. The narrow staircase creaked under your feet as you started to climb, the air thick with tension. You took each step slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible. The further you climbed, the more oppressive the silence became, making you feel like you were intruding on something dangerous.

At the top you found another hallway, dark and seemingly endless. The hair on the back of your neck stood up as you slowly moved forward, the sound of your breath heavy in your ears. You didn’t know what you were expecting to find, but with each step you took, the feeling of dread only deepened.

You were too far in now. Something had drawn you here, and no matter how much you wanted to turn back, you couldn’t.

You continued down the dark hallway at the top of the stairs, your flashlight flicking over the faded wallpaper and old doors that creaked slightly with the movement of the house. The air was thick with dust, and the floorboards groaned beneath your steps as you moved forward, every creak seeming louder in the stillness.

But despite the eerie surroundings, there was nothing—no signs of anyone being here, no more sounds of distress. The rooms you peeked into were abandoned, just like the rest of the house. Some were empty, their floors covered in broken glass or debris; others held old furniture, now falling apart with age.

You moved cautiously, stepping lightly to avoid making noise, but your mind was beginning to feel like it was playing tricks on you. The urgency that had pushed you to come this far was fading, replaced by a strange, unsettling feeling.

Your flashlight beam swept over more rooms—empty, forgotten, silent. You checked the windows of each room, but they were all boarded up or shattered, the light outside barely filtering through the gaps. Nothing moved, nothing stirred. The only sound was the slow rhythm of your own breath and the occasional rustle of your shoes against the old carpet.

The stairs seemed endless, but you couldn’t stop now. Something was pulling you forward, urging you to climb higher, even though you knew deep down it might be a mistake.

You reached the next floor, your heart racing with each step. This floor, just like the others, was coated in layers of dust and neglect. You didn’t dare touch anything; you just scanned each room quickly, hoping for a clue or something to justify your presence. But still, there was nothing.

You stood in the center of the hallway, a small sense of dread growing in your chest. There was no sign of anyone, no one to help. The house was as empty and cold as ever.

You sighed in frustration, about to turn and leave, when you noticed something different. A door at the end of the hall—a door that looked… newer, as though it hadn’t suffered the same wear as the rest of the house. Something about it caught your attention. It wasn’t the same peeling wood or faded paint. It was almost as if the door had been replaced, but not the rest of the house.

You slowly moved toward it, your hand hesitating on the doorknob.

You turned the knob, and the door creaked open.

On the other side was a small, dimly lit room. It was sparsely furnished—just a single chair in the center, facing a tall mirror that seemed too clean, too pristine in this neglected space. The rest of the room was dark, the corners shrouded in shadows.

But in the reflection of the mirror, you saw something that made your blood run cold.

A figure standing behind you.

You spun around, your breath catching in your throat, but the room was empty.

You turned back to the mirror, only to see your own wide-eyed expression, the flashlight still trembling in your hand.

Was it a trick of the light?

You couldn’t tell, but the sense of dread intensified, and every instinct you had screamed at you to leave.

Your heart raced in your chest as you hesitated in the hallway, the silence around you thick with dread, you stood frozen, unsure whether to retreat or continue forward. But the distant cries for help, desperate and pleading, pushed you onward.

You slowly climbed the last set of stairs, careful with every step, your breath shallow as you tried not to make a sound. The air seemed heavier here, colder, as if the building itself was alive with something sinister. Each creak of the floorboards under your feet was unnervingly loud in the silence, but you forced yourself to keep moving.

At the top of the stairs, the floor seemed different—newer, almost cleaner than the rest of the house. You could hear faint whimpers, like someone in pain. Your stomach churned, a wave of nausea washing over you, but you ignored it. You needed to know what was happening, needed to help whoever it was.

You crept down the hall, pausing only when you reached the door at the end. It was barely ajar, just enough to allow a glimpse of what lay beyond. Hesitantly, you peered through the crack, your heart nearly stopping when the scene before you registered.

It was a girl—someone you knew well from school. The same one from the mall, the one who had tried to hit you just days ago. But now, she was in a different state entirely. Bound to a chair, her body covered in blood, her eyes glazed with pain and fear. Her hair matted with sweat, her clothes torn and stained. It was a sight so revolting it made your stomach turn.

You gasped softly, the breath catching in your throat. The scene felt surreal, as if you were watching some horrible nightmare. The blood, both dried and fresh, had stained the chair she was tied to, the dark red splotches contrasting against the pale, almost sickly white of her skin. It was a haunting sight.

A few moments of stunned silence passed as your mind struggled to comprehend what you were seeing. Then, something inside you clicked—instinct, maybe, or the sheer desperation to do something. You couldn’t just leave her like this. Not after everything you had already witnessed.

You quickly opened the door just enough to squeeze through, the sharp creak of the hinges making your heart race even faster. As you stepped inside, your feet almost felt like they were dragging on their own. You moved toward her cautiously, afraid of alerting anyone who might be nearby.

Her breathing was shallow, but she was still alive. She winced, a painful sound escaping her as you approached, her eyes struggling to stay open. You couldn’t help but feel a surge of sympathy for her—no matter the past between you two, no one deserved to be in this state.

With trembling hands, you carefully assessed her wounds. The blood was coming from several places, mostly on her legs and arms, but there were deeper gashes across her torso. It was hard to tell how deep they were, but they were certainly serious.

You quickly pressed against the worst of her wounds. She let out a pained groan, weakly trying to shift her body, but she couldn’t move much. The bindings kept her in place, and all you could do was try to stem the flow of blood.

Her body tensed at the pressure, and she let out a strangled cry. You couldn’t bear to think of how long she had been like this, how much time had passed since she’d been brought here.

As you worked, a noise caught your attention—a soft mumbling, almost unintelligible. Your blood ran cold as you turned your head toward the sound, your eyes locking on a partially open door to another room, connected to where you were. The figure of someone moved within, their back to you.

You didn’t need to see their face to know who it was.

The hair on the back of your neck stood on end as panic surged through you, but you forced yourself to remain calm. You looked back at the girl, who was still breathing heavily but seemed barely conscious.

You couldn’t leave her. You couldn’t.

But you also knew that the moment the killer came back in, you’d both be in even more danger. You had to act fast.

Carefully, you stood and slowly, almost silently, backed away from the girl, your heart pounding in your ears. You closed the door behind you as quietly as possible, the faintest creak echoing in the silence of the house. You took a breath, holding it as you peered through the crack in the door.

Just as you thought you were safe, you saw the killer reappear in the room, the door creaking open. His cold gaze flicked to the girl, who was still bound to the chair. Without even glancing around, he stepped forward, his hands moving to adjust the knife in his grip.

You sucked in a breath, watching in silence as he leaned down, brushing his fingers over her bloodied face.

The knife glinted under the dim light as he loomed over her, speaking in a low, almost amused tone.

And then, your body tensed—your instincts screamed at you to leave, to run before he noticed you.

The moment you stepped back, the sharp crunch of broken glass beneath your foot was like a thunderclap in the otherwise silent house. Your heart froze in your chest, you lifted your foot, eyes immediately widening.

Your breath caught in your throat as you heard a slow, deliberate creak from behind the door. The hairs on the back of your neck prickled. Without even thinking, your gaze snapped toward the crack between the door and the frame. And there he was.

The killer. His white mask was the only thing visible, but it was enough. You could feel the weight of his gaze through the small sliver, cold, calculating. The mask seemed almost too calm, too collected. He hadn't even flinched at the noise. No, he was waiting. He was waiting for you to realize the mistake you'd just made.

The cruel, teasing voice that followed was enough to freeze you in place.

"Well, well," he purred from behind the door, his tone dripping with amusement. "Looks like we've got a curious little mouse here, don't we?"

Your stomach dropped as the fear, the raw terror, finally gripped you. You felt your pulse thunder in your ears as he slowly, almost deliberately, tilted his head, eyes still hidden behind that mask.

Before you could even think, before your body could process anything else, you screamed. The sound was torn from your throat, pure panic flooding every fiber of your being. You scrambled backward, your feet slipping slightly on the old wooden floor as you scrambled toward the staircase, your heartbeat pounding so loud in your chest that you could hardly hear anything else.

Your mind screamed at you to move faster, but your legs felt like they were made of lead. Every step you took seemed to echo in the vast, empty space, and you could already hear his footsteps behind you—closer, too close.

You shot a desperate glance over your shoulder as you reached the stairs. The killer was still there, stepping into the hallway, his slow, deliberate pace making your heart race even faster. His mask was almost inhuman in its stillness, but there was a look in his posture—predatory, like he was enjoying the chase.

You stumble down the creaking, narrow staircase, your breath coming in ragged gasps as panic claws at your chest. Tears blur your vision, streaking your face as the blood on your trembling hands smears across the banister. You don’t dare look back. You can’t.

Above you, his voice echoes through the decaying walls, low and mocking, sending chills down your spine.

“Run all you want,” he calls, his tone light, almost playful. “You know I’ll catch you.”

Your foot catches on a loose board, nearly sending you sprawling, but you grip the railing and push yourself forward. His words follow you, slithering into your ears like poison.

“You can’t hide from me. You know that, don’t you? I’ll always find you. Always.”

The air is heavy with the smell of dust and mildew, but it does nothing to muffle his voice.

“You and that little curiosity of yours,” he sneers, his footsteps steady and unhurried. “That’s what got you into this mess. You wanted to see what was behind the curtain, didn’t you?”

Your heart pounds in your chest, your legs screaming in protest as you take the steps two at a time.

“No one else deserves you,” he continues, his voice dipping into something darker, more possessive. “Only me. And if I can’t have you…”

You swallow back a sob as his words twist, their meaning sharp as a blade.

“…then no one can.”

Your foot hits the landing, and you dart into the next corridor, the peeling wallpaper and flickering lights a blur around you. Still, his voice lingers, wrapping around you like a noose.

“You’ll be mine in the end. You know it. Why keep running, darling? Why deny the inevitable?”

You bite down on your lip to stifle the cry threatening to escape. The hallway stretches endlessly before you, and the sound of his steps—slow, deliberate—echoes closer, as if he’s right behind you.

Your chest burns as you push forward, forcing your legs to move despite the overwhelming ache. The hallway feels endless, the dim, flickering lights above casting warped shadows that seem to close in on you. Each creak of the floorboards behind you makes your heart skip a beat, his taunting voice dripping into your ears like acid.

“You can’t run forever,” he hums, his tone like a lullaby meant to unsettle. “Every step you take just brings you closer to me. Don’t you see? This is fate. You were made for me.”

A sob escapes you before you can stifle it, your body betraying the terror that threatens to consume you whole. You glance frantically over your shoulder, but the staircase behind you is empty. He isn’t there, and yet his voice sounds as if it’s just over your shoulder, like he’s breathing down your neck.

You shove open a door at the end of the hall, the old wood groaning on its hinges as you stumble into what looks like a storage room. Rusted tools hang on the walls, their edges sharp and unforgiving, glinting faintly in the pale light from a single bare bulb swaying overhead. Your breath catches as you scan the room, desperately searching for a way out.

“There you go,” he purrs, his voice impossibly close now, like he’s whispering directly into your ear. “Hide, if it makes you feel safer. I like when you play hard to get. It makes it so much sweeter when I finally catch you.”

You slam the door shut and lock it, your shaking hands fumbling with the rusted bolt. The sound of his footsteps grows louder, heavier now, deliberate in their approach. You back away from the door, your eyes darting around the room. The windows are boarded up, thick planks of wood nailed across the frames, no hope of escape.

Your breathing is shallow, uneven. Your hands curl into fists, fingernails biting into your palms as you try to will yourself to think. Focus. Focus.

Then, silence.

The footsteps stop. His voice is gone.

Your heart pounds in the stillness, the quiet almost worse than his taunts. You strain your ears, listening for anything—any sign of movement, any sound that could tell you where he is. But there’s nothing.

A soft knock on the door shatters the quiet, making you jump back with a gasp.

“Are you scared?” he asks, his voice calm now, almost tender. “You don’t need to be. I’ll take care of you. I’ll make this quick.”

The doorknob jiggles. Once. Twice. Then, a violent bang as he slams against the door, rattling the frame.

You scramble backward, your hands blindly reaching for anything, and they land on something cold and solid—a wrench, heavy and covered in dust.

Another bang. The bolt starts to bend under the pressure.

“I’m coming in, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice filled with a sickening glee. “Let’s end this little game, shall we?”

The door bursts open, and there he is, silhouetted against the dim light of the hallway, his figure towering, his shadow stretching across the floor like it’s ready to swallow you whole.

But you’re ready this time. Your grip tightens on the wrench, and as he steps into the room, you swing.

Part 2 here

══════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹══════

Taglist: @totallynotj3zz @starfallia @jiryunn @yangjungwonnie

@miainthestarsss @caithefly @hhyvsstuff @kkamismom12

@ilyunjina @xiaoquanquans @heeseungspookie @flwwon

[bumblesimagines]

but what if you're the one for me?

when were you going to tell me you were seeing someone? i thought i was the first person you told about that stuff.

- Cassie Howard

but what if you're the one for me?

when were you going to tell me you were seeing someone? i thought i was the first person you told about that stuff.

Pronouns: He/Him/His

Gathering the multiple party-sized bags into your arms, you peered over the top of them as you followed Lexi out of the kitchen and into the living room where the girls had gathered around. From the flush on Cassie's cheek and the way Maddy and Kat giggled, Suze must've told a helluva story. Lexi carefully balanced the small cups of dippings with one arm and began setting them down on the coffee table alongside the scattered candy wrappers and beer cans.

"Finally," Maddy groaned, wiping her lips free of beer and reaching for one of the tortilla chip bags you held. She ripped it open and dug inside, pulling two chips free and eagerly dipping them into the guacamole. She did a blissful shimmy when she munched on the chips and happily went in for more chips. 

"So, (Y/N)," Kat began with a wicked grin, her eyes watching you set the rest of the bags down on the table. You glanced at her questionably and settled down nicely beside Cassie, already feeling ganged up on from the way Maddy and BB turned to Kat expectantly. She took her time, sipping on her beer and taking a bite out of a chip before continuing. "I heard that you and Tammy Lewis were getting a little cozy at the movies last Sunday."

"What?!" Maddy nearly shrieked with a mouthful of chips, her head whipping around to look at you with wide eyes. "You dick! Why didn't you tell us?"

The guys at school who constantly badgered you with questions as to how you could've possibly managed to land a spot in a friend group consisting of the prettiest popular cheerleaders in school had no clue the type of torture you'd been under since 6th grade.

It'd all started one fateful afternoon during lunchtime when the snotty boy in front of you had made fun of Kat and tried to flee before Maddy could lay into him. It'd been instinctive how you stuck your leg out and sent him toppling to the floor. The humiliation of not only falling in front of half the school combined with getting a bloody nose had made the boy cry and you'd been given a couple days of suspension. When you returned afterward, you'd been formally invited to sit with the girls at lunch by none other than Madeleine Perez. 

From then on, the girls kept you around and you were quickly dubbed the luckiest guy in school, even if you viewed all the girls as sisters and they treated you like a baby brother they liked dressing up and cooing over. But along with the territory of brother, came the gossip, drama, and the fact every single person you vaguely showed interest in had to be approved by the council.

"It's not serious, Mads, I swear. It's just.... dating. We're not together." 

"Not yet." BB cooed, exhaling a breath of smoke and snickering when you groaned.

"Tammy Lewis," Maddy murmured and leaned back into the cushion of the couch with squinted eyes. "She's pretty, I guess."

"She's failing English," Kat added, "Like kindergarten reading comprehension type of failing."

"I think she's sweet." Lexi piped in, cradling a cola can in her hands and shrugging her shoulders. 

"It's not serious," You groaned again. "I would've told you guys if it were, I swear! It was just one date and nothing happened." 

Maddy squinted again. "Nothing? Not even a little kiss?"

"Maybe... maybe like one kiss-"

"And you didn't tell us?!" Maddy shrieked again and grabbed a pillow, tossing it over the coffee table and hitting you square in the chest. Unnaturally quiet Cassie laughed, albeit forced and slightly awkward, and retrieved the pillow before it could go tumbling to the floor. You glanced at the blonde, finally noting her lack of input but decided to leave it for later rather than put her on the spot. 

The rest of the night had been the same as others, with a couple movies put on the TV until the girls ultimately passed out either on the floor or the couch. Suze ensured everyone had blankets and pillows as she called up the parents to alert them their kids would be staying over before she retreated upstairs to her bedroom with one last glass of wine in hand.

You'd been curled up on the end of the couch on the brink of dozing off until the feeling of someone slipping by startled you awake and you caught Cassie slipping into the kitchen. You yawned and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, tugging the blanket over your shoulders and shuffling after her into the kitchen. 

"Oh, hey," She greeted quietly, taking a water bottle out of the fridge and drinking from it. 

"You okay?" You questioned and leaned against one of the counters, trying to fight the exhaustion from clouding your brain. Cassie brushed some loose strands of hair back and took another sip of water, the look on her face conflicted. Cassie confided in you all the time, whether about guys or her mother, so her hesitation seemed odd. 

"When were you going to tell me you were seeing someone?" She asked quietly, running her finger over the rim of the bottle. "I thought I was the first person you told about that stuff."

"You've got a lot on your plate already, Cass. I thought it'd be better to let you recover from... everything." Your eyes flickered down to her belly. She'd hardly been able to tell the girls about it when she found out, seeing as Maddy and Kat had gotten into it and angered each other that day. McKay had known, of course he had, but he hadn't been the one she called when the procedure had been over and done with. 

"I... I'm fine, (Y/N). I'm past it. I'm past McKay. He didn't make me feel... special or loved or.. beautiful. I know that's how love is supposed to make you feel. It- It shouldn't make you feel like shit." Cassie said, setting the bottle aside and turning to face you. Her eyes softened and then began to glisten with tears. You frowned and moved the blanket from your shoulders, taking a step closer and wrapping it around her instead. "He wasn't the one for me... but what if you're the one for me?"

[kckt88]

Scorched Hearts XI

Summary:

'We loved with a love that was more than love - Edgar Allen Poe'

Valaena and Aemond reunite with their family, and tensions rise at dinner.

Warning(s): Angst, Drama, Language, Dragons, Uncle/Niece Incest, Kissing, Fingering, Oral Sex, P in V, Cock Warming.

AEMOND x O.C Niece

Word Count: 6480

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @darylandbethfanforever9 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole

Rhaenyra paced the now-empty council chamber, her footsteps echoing softly as she fiddled with her rings.

Nearly six years had passed since Silverwing and Vhagar had been presumed lost in the waters of Shipbreaker Bay, carrying Aemond and her beloved daughter, Valaena, to their deaths.

The pain of losing Valaena had been an agony like no other—her sweet, spirited girl, taken so young, her life snuffed out before it had truly begun.

In the years since, Rhaenyra had found herself drawn to solitude, often seeking the quiet of her balcony to gaze at the stars. She would tell herself that one of them was Valaena, watching over her, a gentle light in the dark.

At other times, she’d mount Syrax and fly to Shipbreaker Bay, where she’d stand on the shore and stare at the waves, willing them to give her back her child.

For a moment, she would almost believe that if she stood there long enough, she would see her daughter walking toward her, stepping out of the mist and foam.

Now, with news of Silverwing and Vhagar sighted over Blackwater Bay, a swirl of hope and dread filled her heart.

What if it wasn’t Valaena? What if someone else had claimed her daughter’s beloved Silverwing?

She didn’t want to open her heart to hope, only to have it torn apart again. She would not survive it.

A soft knock at the door shattered her thoughts. She swallowed, her hands trembling as she composed herself.

“Come in,” she managed, her voice wavering.

The door opened slowly, and as Rhaenyra looked up, her heart stopped. Valaena stood there, framed in the doorway, alive and real.

Rhaenyra couldn’t breathe, frozen as she took in the sight of her daughter—the daughter she’d mourned, who now stood before her as if she’d never left.

Valaena seemed taller now, her features a blend of the girl Rhaenyra had lost and the woman she had become.

Wordlessly, Rhaenyra stepped forward, her hand reaching out, her fingers quivering as they brushed against Valaena’s shoulder.

The touch was solid and warm, and Rhaenyra’s breath hitched as she felt the reality of her child beneath her fingers.

“You’re here,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “You’re real.”

Valaena took her mother’s hand gently, grounding her. “Yes, Mama. I’m real, and I’m home.”

In a heartbeat, Rhaenyra pulled her daughter into a fierce embrace, sobs wracking her as she held Valaena as tightly as she could.

“My girl,” she gasped, over and over. “My little girl.” She buried her face in Valaena’s hair, inhaling her scent, as if she could somehow imprint it in her heart forever.

Finally, Rhaenyra pulled back just enough to cup Valaena’s face in her hands, her thumbs brushing gently across her cheeks.

“I thought you were dead,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Valaena’s own eyes shimmered as she looked at her mother. “I know. I’m so sorry for all the pain I caused you.”

Rhaenyra shook her head, her hands still cradling Valaena’s face as if afraid she might disappear if she let go.

“No, my sweet girl. I’m sorry—for making you feel that you couldn’t come to me.”

A shadow passed over Valaena’s face. “Do you hate me?”

Rhaenyra’s heart twisted as she shook her head emphatically. “No, I could never hate you. Perhaps, someday, we’ll speak of all that has happened. But for now-” she took a shaky breath, pressing a tender kiss to Valaena’s brow, “-I’m just so grateful to have you home.”

The two held each other, finding solace in the closeness that they had both longed for over years apart, a fragile, precious reunion sealed with the unbreakable bond that they’d shared since Valaena’s first breath.

Valaena looked at her mother with a soft smile and said, “Would you like to meet your grandchildren?”

Rhaenyra’s face lit up, and she replied, “Please.”

Valaena called out to Aemond, and the door opened as he entered with Rhaegar and Elaena at his side, and little Daenys nestled in his arms.

Valaena gently introduced each child, beginning with, “This is Rhaegar.” He stepped forward, bowing politely.

“Your Grace,” he said, his voice steady, though his violet eyes revealed a spark of curiosity.

Then Valaena moved her hand toward her daughter, “And this is Elaena.” The little girl, with her thumb firmly in her mouth, pressed herself shyly against Aemond’s leg, peeking out from behind his cloak.

“And this,” Valaena continued, her voice softer, “is Daenys.” She reached over to stroke Daenys’ cheek, who gazed back with wide, inquisitive eyes.

Rhaenyra’s expression softened as she took in each child, and then she looked up at Aemond, her gaze steady. “Aemond.”

Aemond met her eyes and replied with a curt, “Your Grace.”

Rhaenyra nodded. “You and I need to have a conversation, but that can wait. For now, may I hold my granddaughter?”

Aemond glanced at Valaena, who nodded her consent. He stepped forward, carefully passing Daenys to Rhaenyra.

As she cradled the baby, Rhaenyra’s face softened even more, her own hands steady as she pressed a gentle kiss to Daenys’ forehead.

She looked into the child’s curious, trusting eyes for a moment before handing her back to Aemond.

Rhaenyra then knelt to Elaena’s level, giving the little girl a warm smile. “Hello, little one. I’m your grandmother.”

Elaena took her thumb out of her mouth, studying Rhaenyra’s face before saying, “You smile like Mama.”

Rhaenyra chuckled softly. “I hope that’s a good thing.”

Elaena gave a tiny nod, but she still kept close to Aemond, her small hand gripping the edge of his cloak. Rhaenyra rose and turned to Rhaegar, studying him closely. “My, you favour your father in looks,” she said, a gentle smile on her face.

Rhaegar’s expression shifted with a flash of pride, and he said, “Thank you,” his voice small but sincere.

Then Rhaenyra’s gaze drifted to Valaena’s rounded stomach, her eyes widening with realization. “I see I am to have another grandchild.”

Valaena smiled, her hand resting protectively over her belly. “Yes-a surprise, but a welcome one.”

Rhaenyra’s eyes softened as she replied, “Those are the best kind.” Her gaze drifted over Aemond’s shoulder, noticing two unfamiliar faces standing just behind him.

“Ahh yes-” Valaena said, following her mother’s gaze. “This is Lirri and Arro”

Rhaenyra inclined her head in polite greeting, acknowledging the two who had evidently served her daughter and good son well.

Just then, Daenys began to fuss, her small face creasing. Aemond lifted her onto his shoulder, swaying slightly from side to side, murmuring softly to calm her.

Rhaenyra watched, almost mesmerized, as Aemond soothed his youngest with the practiced ease of a father.

“Mama,” Elaena tugged at Valaena’s dress, her voice soft with exhaustion. “I tired.”

Valaena brushed her hand gently over her daughter’s hair. “You’ll sleep soon, my sweet.”

Rhaenyra took in the scene with a quiet smile, then turned to call for Ser Erryk. He entered swiftly, awaiting her command.

“Ser Erryk, will you escort Valaena, Aemond, and their children to the empty royal chambers in Maegor’s Holdfast? There is ample room for the family and space enough for a nursery. There are also suitable lodgings for Lirri and Arro, as I imagine you would like them to remain in your service.”

Valaena nodded gratefully. “Yes, we would.”

Rhaenyra smiled warmly. “I’ll let you all get settled. And, Aemond-” she said, glancing at him, “I’m sure you’ll want to see your mother and siblings as well.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Aemond replied with a respectful nod.

Rhaenyra inclined her head. “Then let us meet for dinner later.”

“Yes, that sounds like a good idea,” Valaena agreed.

As Valaena turned to leave, Rhaenyra felt a surge of emotion she couldn’t quite contain. “Wait,” she called out.

Valaena paused, turning back, and Rhaenyra crossed the room quickly, pulling her into a tight embrace. She whispered softly, “I just wanted to be sure.”

Valaena hugged her mother back, her voice steady and filled with warmth. “I’m here, Mama. I’m here.”

With that, Valaena and Aemond gathered their children and followed Ser Erryk, leaving Rhaenyra alone in the council chamber, her heart brimming with both the joy of reunion and the quiet ache of years lost.

In the quiet of the chamber, Valaena sat back against the cushioned armchair, watching the dim flickering light from the candles cast soft shadows across the walls.

Elaena was already fast asleep on the bed, her small form nestled securely in Lirri's arms. Nearby, Daenys was in Arro's gentle hold, swaddled and calm as he slowly rocked her, humming a low lullaby.

Rhaegar, standing beside Valaena’s chair, looked around the sparsely furnished room, his young brow knitting together.

"It's very dark in here, Mama," he murmured.

Valaena gave him a gentle smile, reaching out to brush a hand through his silver hair. "I know, my love. But once we have our things here, I’m sure it will brighten the place up."

She glanced over at Aemond, who sat in a wooden chair by the door, tapping his fingers restlessly against the armrest.

His gaze kept straying to the doorway, his lips pressed into a thin line of anticipation.

Sensing his urge to go, Valaena spoke softly, “It’s alright, Aemond. If you want to go see your mother, go.”

Aemond turned to her, his expression conflicted. “I don’t wish to leave you alone.”

Valaena chuckled lightly. “I’m not alone. Arro and Lirri are here.” She looked at him with quiet understanding, encouraging him to go.

Taking a deep breath, Aemond finally stood, adjusting the front of his leather jerkin. Just then, Rhaegar tugged on his father’s hand, looking up with a curious expression.

“Where are you going, daddy?”

“To see your grandmother,” Aemond answered gently.

Rhaegar tilted his head in confusion. “But-we just saw her.”

Aemond chuckled, ruffling his son’s hair. “You have more than one grandmother.”

Rhaegar’s eyes widened with intrigue. “I do?”

Aemond nodded, a faint smile on his face. “And uncles and an aunt as well.”

Rhaegar’s face lit up, and he looked at his mother, clearly eager. “Can I come with you?”

Valaena met Aemond’s gaze, a look of encouragement in her eyes.

Aemond turned back to Rhaegar with a soft smile. “If you want to, yes.”

“I do!” Rhaegar’s face shone with excitement, and he nodded emphatically.

Valaena leaned down and cupped Rhaegar’s face, her expression tender. “Be a good boy, alright?”

“I will, Mama,” Rhaegar promised earnestly.

Aemond stepped forward, pressing a gentle kiss to Valaena’s forehead. “I’ll be back soon,” he murmured. “I love you.”

She smiled, her hand resting over his as he pulled away. “I love you too.”

With a final glance, Valaena watched them leave, Aemond’s protective arm around Rhaegar’s shoulders as they disappeared down the dim corridor.

The door closed softly, leaving the room cloaked in quiet once more.

Aemond and Rhaegar made their way through the winding corridors of the Red Keep, the shadows and hallways stretching out before them.

Rhaegar, small, wide-eyed and unsure, clung tightly to his father’s hand as they walked.

Every now and then, he tugged on Aemond's hand, and at last, he paused, kneeling down to meet his son’s eyes.

“What’s wrong, Rhaegar?” Aemond asked gently.

Rhaegar looked around, glancing nervously at the servants and guards who had stopped to stare as they passed.

"People are staring at us, Daddy."

Aemond gave him a reassuring smile, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, tresy. They’re looking at me, not you” (Son).

Rhaegar’s brows furrowed as he whispered, “Are you okay, Daddy?”

Aemond’s smile softened. “I will be” He stood and, with a deep breath, took Rhaegar’s hand in his once more.

Together, they walked onward until they arrived before the heavy door of Alicent’s chambers. Aemond raised his hand to knock but hesitated, his fingers curling.

He felt Rhaegar squeeze his other hand and, glancing down at his young son, he smiled—a reminder of his courage.

Steeling himself, Aemond knocked, and a moment later, his mother’s voice called from within, “Come in.”

Opening the door, Aemond’s breath caught. Alicent was sitting by the window beside Helaena, both of them sewing.

At the sight of him, Alicent froze, her needle slipping from her fingers.

“A-Aemond-” she whispered, slowly rising from her seat, disbelief and joy fighting for dominance on her face.

She approached him cautiously, her hand reaching out, as if he might disappear if she moved too quickly.

Gently, she cupped his face, her thumb tracing the scar on his cheek. “I thought you were dead,” she murmured, voice trembling.

Aemond took her hand, squeezing it gently. “No, Mother. I’m alive.”

A relieved smile broke across her face. “Oh, my son-” She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close, and Aemond hugged her back, though a bit stiffly.

When she pulled away, her gaze fell on Rhaegar, her eyes widening.

“And who is this little one?” she asked softly.

Aemond’s hand moved to rest on Rhaegar’s shoulder, and with a small, proud smile, he said, “This is my son, Rhaegar.”

Alicent’s eyes filled with fresh tears as she clasped a hand to her mouth. “You have a son,” she whispered in awe.

Aemond nodded. “Yes, I also have two daughters and another child on the way.”

“Oh, Aemond-” Alicent’s smile was luminous. “Is it Valaena? Is she here too?”

Aemond’s eye widened, surprised. “How did you know about—”

Before he could finish, the door burst open, making Rhaegar jump and clutch at Aemond’s leg.

Aegon stumbled into the room, breathless and grinning. “Is it true? They’re saying all over the Keep that Aemond’s alive! Is he really—” He stopped abruptly, eyes falling on his brother.

Aemond bent down to lift Rhaegar protectively into his arms, fixed his older brother with a scowl. “You moron, you scared my son half to death!”

Aegon winced, raising his hands in surrender. “Sorry, I—wait. You have a son?” He looked incredulous.

Aemond sighed, rubbing Rhaegar’s back soothingly. “Yes, you idiot. And you frightened him.”

Aegon’s expression softened as he looked at the boy in Aemond’s arms. “What’s his name?”

“Rhaegar,” Aemond answered.

A broad smile broke across Aegon’s face. “A fine name, brother. Well done.” He clapped Aemond on the back, and Aemond muttered a grudging thanks.

At that moment, Helaena approached, her soft smile calming Rhaegar. Holding out her arms, she silently asked permission to hold him.

To Aemond’s surprise, Rhaegar leaned over willingly, nestling into her as she kissed his cheek and murmured,

“There, there, sweet boy.” Rhaegar, now settled, seemed soothed in her gentle hold.

Aegon then flung his arms around Aemond, his grin a mix of affection and mischief. “You twat, I’ve missed you!”

But Aemond pulled back, wrinkling his nose and teasingly sniffing the air around Aegon. “Gods, you reek of wine. Did you bathe in it?”

“If only,” Aegon quipped, laughing, though Aemond made a face in response.

Just then, Daeron appeared quietly by the doorway. He stepped in cautiously, his eyes shining as he took in the sight of his elder brother.

Aemond nodded politely to him, offering a faint smile. Daeron stepped forward, returning the smile as he clasped Aemond’s shoulder.

“I was barely more than a boy when they sent me to Oldtown and when I returned, you were gone,” he said softly.

Aemond’s gaze warmed, nodding in quiet understanding. “Then mayhaps we can come to know each other as brothers once more.”

Daeron nodded, his voice steady. “I would like that.”

As Alicent watched her children reunited, she couldn’t hold back the tears that slipped from her eyes, pressing a handkerchief to her cheek.

For six long years, she had mourned her favourite son, believing him lost to the sea. And now here he was—returned to her, with his own family.

At last, Aemond was home, surrounded by his mother and siblings, the ghosts of the past slowly beginning to lift.

Rhaegar’s small voice broke through the gentle chatter. “I want to go back to Mama,” he whispered, his hand clutching Helaena’s shoulder.

Helaena smiled warmly and, with a soft kiss to his cheek, handed him back to Aemond.

Aemond held Rhaegar close, nodding to his sister with quiet gratitude. “Thank you for everything, Hellie-” he said.

She smiled; her gaze full of understanding. “I’m just glad that you’re all home.”

Aemond took a breath, shifting his weight as he prepared to leave. “The Queen has invited me and Valaena for dinner later,” he said, “-So I’ll see you all then.”

“Where are you off to now?” Aegon asked, folding his arms with an arched brow.

“Rhaegar wants his mother,” Aemond replied, adjusting his grip on his son. “And I should be heading back anyway—Elaena and Daenys will likely be waking from their naps.”

Aegon blinked, a mix of surprise and amusement crossing his face. “Who are Elaena and Daenys?”

“My daughters,” Aemond said, giving him a wry look.

Aegon let out a laugh, clapping Aemond on the shoulder. “Well, you’ve certainly been busy, whilst you were dead. So how many children are we talking about here?”

Aemond rolled his eye, scoffing. “Like you can talk. How many silver-haired bastards of yours are running around Flea Bottom?”

Aegon shrugged, grinning. “Not that many, I don’t think-” he trailed off with a smirk, “and you didn’t answer my question.”

With a sigh, Aemond replied, “I have three children, and another on the way.”

Aegon whistled, laughing. “Gods be good, brother!” He clutched his ribs as Aemond, exasperated, jabbed him lightly in the side.

“I’ll see you at dinner,” Aemond said, his patience thinning but his smile lingering.

With a final nod to his siblings, he made his way out of the room, Rhaegar cradled securely in his arms.

Rhaegar nestled against him, Aemond strode back through the corridors of the Red Keep, feeling, for the first time in years, like he truly belonged there once more.

As Aemond visited his family, Valaena was busy overseeing the unpacking of their trunks and carefully attending to the wooden crates that housed the dragon hatchlings.

The room was alive with activity—Daenys gurgled contentedly, drooling over her favourite carved wooden toy, while Elaena giggled in delight as Lirri gently tickled her tiny feet.

Meanwhile, Arro was stood on the balcony, admiring the breathtaking view over Blackwater Bay.

Valaena knelt beside the crates, unlatching them and gently coaxing the hatchlings out.

Hūra let out a piercing shriek as she unfurled her wings, stretching before leaping onto the bed to snuggle up next to Elaena, who giggled and stroked her scaly head.

Valerion, the smallest, wasted no time latching onto Valaena’s dress, scrambling his way up to her shoulder as he chirped happily in her ear.

Sapphyre, the largest and most spirited of the trio, lifted his head, sniffed the air, and began to trill urgently as he looked around.

Lirri looked concerned, watching the restless hatchling. “What’s wrong with him?” she asked.

“It’s a new place,” Valaena explained, brushing a soothing hand over Sapphyre’s scaled neck. “He doesn’t know where Rhaegar is. He’s worried.”

“Oh no-” muttered Lirri

“Dokimarvose, Sapphyre. Lykirī”  but Sapphyre only roared and flapped his wings, rearing up on his hind legs in agitation (Focus, be calm).

“My lady-” muttered Lirri nervously.

With a firmer tone, Valaena held out her hand and commanded, “Dohaerās, Sapphyre” (Serve).

Instantly, Sapphyre’s defiance waned; and he settled down, tilting his head with a questioning gaze.

“Mama-” exclaimed Elaena.

Valaena gently stroked him, murmuring, “Hegnīr valītsos” Sapphyre then moved away and curled up in front of the fire, his golden eyes fixed on the door, waiting (Good boy).

Lirri exhaled in relief. “That was close, my lady.”

Valaena gave a slight nod, her fingers idly trailing along Sapphyre’s scales. “It’s an unfamiliar place to him. Hopefully, Aemond and Rhaegar will be back soon and then he’ll calm down-”

Carefully, Valaena lifted Valerion from her shoulder and placed him on the bed next to Daenys, who immediately reached out to hold his tail in her little hand.

Arro, watching all of this with fascination, finally spoke up. “Should we ask that Sapphyre be taken to join Vhagar and Silverwing? He might feel more comfortable with them.”

“The dragon keepers may not allow that,” Valaena replied, a hint of displeasure in her voice. “They’d likely insist he be taken to the Dragonpit.”

Arro looked puzzled. “What’s the Dragonpit?”

“It’s a building in the city where dragons are kept,” Valaena explained, her tone darkening. “But I don’t like it, the dragons are chained in the dark. I won’t subject Sapphyre to that.”

Arro shook his head, his expression disturbed. “That sounds terrible.”

“I believe it stunts their growth, being chained up and confined like that,” Valaena said, glancing over at the hatchling curled up by the fire.

“Is that why Vhagar is so large?”

“Yes, I believe so-she’s spent many years flying free. Maybe that why they insist on chaining the dragons, to prevent them from growing larger” muttered Valaena rubbing her stomach gently.

“Was there a dragon larger than her?” asked Arro curiously.

“There was. Balerion the black dread, he was the largest dragon who ever lived” replied Valaena.

“Where is he now?”

“He died, during the reign of my great great grandsire King Jaehaerys” said Valaena.

“Oh” said Arro sadly.

“His skull still rests in a chamber below the red keep, I can show you sometime if you like?” suggested Valaena.

“I would like that very much my lady thank you”

“I know how much you like dragons, perhaps I can suggest some books from the library that I think you would enjoy” said Valaena smiling.

“You are very kind-”

Just then, the door opened, and Aemond stepped in, Rhaegar at his side. Sapphyre, upon seeing Rhaegar, let out a low, happy coo as the boy ran to him, stroking the dragon’s head with a joyful smile.

Aemond took in the room, glancing at Valaena. “Is everything alright here?”

She nodded, but her gaze softened as she watched Rhaegar and Sapphyre together. “We’ll talk about it later.”

As the last of their belongings were unpacked and set in place, Valaena and Aemond finally found a quiet moment.

The children were tucked into their respective rooms—Elaena and Daenys sharing a cozy chamber just across the private corridor, and Rhaegar resting in his own little room beside them.

Lirri and Arro were settled in nearby chambers, close enough to keep watch over the little ones if needed.

In their own quarters, Valaena stood in front of the wardrobe, looking frustrated as she held one dress after another up against her naked body, sighing as none of them felt quite right.

Behind her, Aemond was already dressed in his usual black breeches and leather jerkin, an amused smile dancing on his lips as he watched her fuss over her choices.

After a few moments, Aemond got up, moving behind her and sliding his hands over her waist and then gently over her growing stomach.

He leaned down to nuzzle her neck, his lips grazing her skin. “Ñuha gevie ābrazȳrys,” he murmured against her ear (My beautiful wife).

She let out a soft laugh as he turned her around, capturing her mouth in a passionate kiss.

Pulling back, he rested his forehead against hers, asking, “What’s troubling you?”

She sighed, glancing at the pile of dresses. “I can’t find an appropriate dress. Nothing fits properly anymore. My breasts have gotten larger, and none of these dresses cover them properly. I don’t want to feel overexposed.” She crossed her arms in exasperation, glancing at him with a half-smile.

Aemond’s lips quirked up as he gently placed his hands on her chest, cupping the weight of her breasts, his thumbs rubbing against her nipples “You won’t get any argument from me,” he teased.

Valaena huffed a laugh, rolling her eyes. “I’m serious, Aemond. We’re about to have dinner with our parents for the first time in six years, and none of these will do. Either they’re too revealing, or I feel like I’ll overheat.”

He took a step back and reached into the wardrobe, pulling out a deep, elegant floor-length gown with short sleeves. “What about this one?”

She eyed it thoughtfully. “It’ll have to do, I suppose though it still doesn’t solve the issue with the top.”

“Use the sashes on the back as a wrap,” he suggested. “They should offer some cover-”

Her eyes brightened. “That’s a good idea.” She took the dress and made her way toward the privacy screen, only for Aemond to reach for her arm, halting her.

“Where are you going?” he asked, a possessive look in his eye.

“To get dressed?” she replied with a playful arch of her brow.

“I wish to watch,” he insisted, his voice low and warm. “I don’t want you hiding any part of yourself from me.”

Her cheeks flushed, but she smiled and let the privacy screen be. She slipped on a thin shift, glancing at him shyly before reaching for her small clothes.

Aemond’s hand touched her wrist. “No,” he said, voice rough with desire. “Leave them off.”

Valaena smirked as she set them aside and stepped into the gown. Aemond moved behind her to fasten the small buttons and ties, his fingers grazing her back as he worked.

She then moved to the vanity, slipping her rings on and fastening her well-worn leather gauntlet bearing the Targaryen sigil.

It was a bit tattered, a testament to how often she wore it—a symbol of her pride in their family and the fact it was a gift from Daemon.

When she reached for her brush, Aemond gently caught her hand. “May I?”

She nodded, handing him the brush, and he began to gently pass it through her long dark hair, careful and slow.

She disliked anyone else handling her hair, yet here she was, relaxed under his gentle touch. It felt intimate, grounding, as if it connected them even more deeply.

When he finished, he set the brush on the vanity and helped her stand.

Aemond gazed at her, his hand lingering at her waist. “I am truly blessed to have you as my wife.”

Valaena smiled, sliding her hands up into his long silver hair and kissing him deeply.

“-And I am blessed to have you as my husband”

Aemond leaned into her, a look of quiet intensity in his eye.

“When this dinner is over,” he whispered, “I’m taking you to bed and fucking you til morning-”

Valaena laughed softly, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Then let’s hope it doesn’t run too long.”

Aemond and Valaena stood side by side outside the grand dining room, hands clasped tightly. Aemond gave her a reassuring look, squeezing her hand. “Are you ready?”

Valaena took a steadying breath, nodding. “It’s now or never.”

He nodded to the guards, and the heavy doors swung open with a formal announcement. “Princess Valaena and Prince Aemond.”

Inside, the gathered family rose—Rhaenyra, Daemon, Alicent, Aegon, Helaena, and Daeron—each watching their entrance with expressions ranging from joy to curiosity.

Then, Daemon’s voice rang out, filled with an almost raw emotion. “Tala” (Daughter).

Valaena’s face softened, and she smiled at her stepfather as he approached, his usually stern expression softened.

Valaena murmured, “Kepa-” (Father).

In the next moment, they embraced, tightly, as though afraid to let go. When they finally parted, Daemon quickly brushed away the tears that had traced lines down his cheeks, casting an almost embarrassed look aside.

Daemon’s expression hardened as he looked at Aemond, his features sharpening as he scoffed.

Turning away, he strode off without another word. Valaena bristled, her voice sharp as she called after him, “-Daemon.”

She moved to follow him, but Aemond gently took her hand, shaking his head. She turned back to him, and his gaze reassured her, a silent reminder of the purpose of tonight.

Together, they walked toward Alicent, who greeted them warmly. Alicent clasped Valaena’s hand, her smile bright yet laced with emotion as they exchanged a few kind words.

Helaena soon joined them, and Valaena hugged her tightly, whispering a soft, “Thank you.”

Helaena returned the embrace, her own voice tender. “I knew you would both find your way back home.”

Aegon then came over, grinning widely as he threw an arm around Valaena. “Good sister,” he said with a smirk, raising a goblet. “Come, have some wine.”

Valaena held up a hand. “No, thank you.” Aegon’s gaze shifted downward, his smirk turning into a playful, mocking grin.

“Ah, yes, I see that my brother has you stuffed with his child,” he said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Daeron let out an exasperated sigh. “That’s enough, brother.”

Valaena turned to Daeron, her face lighting up with genuine warmth. “You were but a boy the last time I saw you. And now here you are, a man grown.”

Daeron blushed, looking down before meeting her gaze. “Thank you. I hope we can get to know one another now-” He hesitated, then added with a small smile, “-that you’re not dead.”

Valaena laughed, touched by his sincerity.

Aegon, however, leaned in, eyes glinting mischievously. “And if you want, we could get to know each other a little better too-”

Aemond’s eye darkened, and with a low, irritated growl, he looped his arm around Valaena’s waist, firmly pulling her away from his brother’s reach.

At the table, Valaena took her seat, and Aegon, eyeing the spot next to her, moved to sit there himself, only to be elbowed aside as Aemond took the seat instead.

As they all settled down for the meal, Rhaenyra’s soft voice broke the brief silence. “To our family-whole once more” she toasted, her eyes lingering on Aemond and Valaena with unspoken relief and gratitude.

As they ate, Daemon’s voice, already thick with wine, rang across the table. “So, nephew, where have you been hiding yourself these last years?”

Aemond took a measured breath, feeling Valaena’s reassuring hand on his thigh before replying. “We travelled Essos for a time, then settled in Qarth.”

Daemon raised an eyebrow, a hint of mockery in his smile. “And tell me, just how did you manage to support your little jaunt around Essos? Must’ve cost quite a bit to find shelter and provide food, for yourselves and the dragons”

“We all know that dragons are more than capable of hunting” said Valaena.

“Indeed-but that still doesn’t answer my question,” said Daemon.

Aemond’s jaw tightened, but he replied smoothly, “I took some coin from the treasury.”

Daemon scoffed. “You mean you stole it.”

“That is enough” muttered Rhaenyra as she placed a calming hand on Daemon’s arm, but he yanked it away.

“-Actually, I want to know whose idea it was to let everyone believe that you were dead.”

Aemond held his gaze steadily. “It was mine.”

Daemon chuckled bitterly. “Of course, I knew it.” He reached for his goblet; eyes narrowed. “And why you went along with it is beyond me,” he muttered, looking pointedly at Valaena.

Valaena’s voice quavered as she replied, “It was the only way we could be together. We knew our relationship would never be accepted—”

Daemon’s eyes flashed. “You’re damn right it wouldn’t have been accepted.”

Valaena gasped, “Daemon—” But he slammed his fist on the table, rattling goblets and silencing the room.

“Do you have any idea the pain that you caused your mother?” he thundered, his voice low with barely controlled rage. “She had just lost Visenya, and then you go and let her believe she lost you, too.” His words struck like blows, and tears filled Valaena’s eyes. “-For five years, I watched my wife’s heart shatter, thinking that you were dead, while the whole time you were across the Narrow Sea, spreading your legs like a whore for that one-eyed cunt-”

Valaena’s lip trembled as she fought to hold back a sob. “Stop it!” she cried, but Daemon only pushed back his chair and rose to his feet.

“If I had known about your so called relationship, I would have kept you two apart by force if necessary. I’d have thrown you in the dungeons and forced drink moon tea down your throat to stop you birthing his spawn!”

Aemond, enraged, rose from his chair. “You dare speak to my wife like that?” he growled.

Daemon, unsteady on his feet, sneered. “I will speak to my daughter however I please, especially after the pain she caused by allowing you to drag her into your scheme. Typical Hightower behaviour-where there’s a scheme there’s always one of you green cunts behind it”

The room fell into stunned silence, all eyes fixed on Daemon as Valaena rose from the table.

Her face went from shock to fury as she seized a jug of wine and threw its contents all over Daemon, completely soaking him.

“You want wine? There, have it. I hope you fucking drown in it. Don’t you dare speak about me or my husband like that again! It’s that very attitude that drove us away in the first place.”

Without another word, Valaena turned and stormed out of the room, Aemond quickly following.

Her anger simmered as she marched through the winding halls of the Red Keep, muttering to herself.

When they reached their chambers, she paced, her words spilling out as she ripped the leather gauntlet from her arm, tossing it to the floor. “How dare he! What was he thinking—Fucking disgraceful behaviour”

Aemond locked the door, his face unreadable as he approached her and cupped her face in his hands.

“Gīda ñuha zaldrīzes,” he murmured, his voice gentle. (Calm, my dragon)

“But he—” Her voice faltering as Aemond silenced her with a kiss, deep and grounding.

When Aemond pulled back, Valaena whispered angrily, “He deserves to have his throat cut.”

Aemond kissed her again, hands steady on her shoulders. “Nārhēdegon zirȳla, sagon kesīr lēda nyke sir,” he said, voice a quiet command. (Forget him. Be here with me now).

Valaena took a shuddering breath, nodding as she felt the ties of her dress loosening under his touch.

“Please Aemond” whispered Valaena as her dress slipped from her body, the material pooling at her feet.

“Nārhēdegon se vys, zȳha sepār īlva”  muttered Aemond as he encouraged Valaena to lay on their bed (Forget the world, it’s just us).

“Gūrogon hen aōha grēze valzȳrys” replied Valaena as she reclined against the pillows (Take off your clothes husband).

Aemond stood before Valaena, his intense gaze never leaving hers as he reached for the buckle of his belt.

Slowly, with deliberate intent, he unfastened it, drawing the leather free from his waist and letting it fall to the floor with a quiet thud.

Next, he shrugged off his leather jerkin, exposing the defined lines of his shoulders.

He placed it aside, and his hands moved to his cotton shirt, fingers working each button open one by one, his gaze still locked on hers as he slid it off, revealing the taut muscles beneath.

Aemond held her gaze with a slight, knowing smile as his hands dropped to the waistband of his breeches.

He took his time loosening them, then let them slide down, his small clothes following soon after, leaving him bared to her in the soft glow of the room.

Finally, he lifted his hand to the strap over his head, slipping it free and pulling off his eyepatch, revealing the sapphire where his left eye had once been.

He stepped toward her, his form both fierce and vulnerable, offering himself completely.

Then gently laid down next to her. His mouth claimed hers and his teeth pulled at her plump bottom lip.

Moving his hand down her body, he slid two long fingers into her cunny and speared them in and out of her at a slow gentle pace. His palm bumped against her pearl with each movement of his hand.

“Oh, Aemond” moaned Valaena desperately.

Aemond withdrew his hand from her wet centre and manoeuvred himself down the bed, leaving a trail of wet kisses on her skin, as he reached his desired destination he hooked his hands around her thighs, and his mouth descended on her cunny.

Ravenously, he pressed into her core with his tongue. Valaena clutched at his head with one hand, whilst her other hand fisted the sheet.

Aemond withdrew from her soaking wet core and lashed hard at her clitoris with his tongue, pulling on it with his lips. He was hard, fast, and brutal, alternating between her assaulted bundle of nerves and drinking deep from her cunny.

Valaena ground down on Aemond, his tongue speared deeper inside her, as she felt the warm curl of her peak approach.

Yet Aemond withdrew and Valaena whimpered with frustration at the denial of her peak.

“So wet for me” muttered Aemond, his voice husky.

"P-Please Aemond. I-I need you” moaned Valaena.

Aemond smiled as he turned her over to her side and began suckling on her exposed neck.

"I want to feel you come all over my cock" growled Aemond.

Aemond lifted her leg and slowly slid his cock into her cunny.

Valaena grabbed hold of the sheet, and closed her eyes, letting out a gratifying moan.

Reaching back, she entwined her fingers into his long silver hair and whimpered, "More, Give me more".

Once Aemond was fully sheathed, he carefully grasped hold of her waist and started to slowly thrust into her.

"My sweet wife. How I love the feeling of your wet cunny squeezing my cock” exclaimed Aemond, his hot breath caressing her neck.

Valaena was so wet that he almost lost his grip and slipped out, but he managed to remain ensconced within her as he continued to thrust into her sweet tight cunt.

The sweat off her back rubbed against his chest and her moans and muffled groans were sweet music to his ears.

Aemond snaked a hand between her legs and rubbed her pearl repeatedly until the rise of heat engulfed her and toppled her right off the edge.

"Aemond, don't stop, my love" gasped Valaena, her cunny clenching his cock.

“Fuck, Valaena. Yes, that’s it” moaned Aemond thrusting one final time as he exploded deep inside her, rope after rope of his seed painting her inner walls.

Aemond buried his face in her dark hair and breathed in her familiar scent.

As he went to pull his softened cock from her, Valaena stopped him.

“Let’s just stay like this a little longer. Please”

Aemond nodded and pressed closer to his wife’s warm body.

A feeling of pure love shot through him, as he nuzzled the back of her neck with his nose.

TBC

[hyperactively-me]

Princess!reader finally slipping up and insulting King Ghost by calling him a murderer, or saying that she hates him for that reason. King Ghost finally understanding why she doesn't like him. I need the angst and drama aaaA.

In the dimly lit chambers of the royal quarters, a heavy silence settled. King Ghost sat at his desk, surrounded by the flickering light of candles, lost in the weight of his responsibilities. He had always carried the weight of the crown with solemn grace, ruling his kingdom with a firm hand and an unwavering dedication. Ruling with a strong hand was necessary for Kastron to survive, earning the respect of his subjects and the loyalty of his council. Yet, despite his outward strength, there was a void within him that he couldn't quite fill – the strained relationship with his own wife. 

You kept him at a cold distance that seemed impassable. He could feel your eyes on him, could sense the tension in the air whenever you were in the same room. He yearned to bridge the gap between you, to understand the source of your resentment, but it remained unspoken. He knew that you resented him for taking you away from your home, for throwing you into this role that you never asked for. 

That evening, during dinner, you were absentmindedly pushing around your food with your fork. Your posture was tense, your face scrunched up, lost in thought. 

Ghost clears his throat, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

“What are you thinkin’ about?”

“Oh, this question again,” you snap. 

Being immediately met with your hostility, he prepares for a blowout argument to occur. 

“Can I not ask how my wife is doing?”

Your gaze hardened, your fingers curling into fists. You slam your fork down, springing up from your chair.

“Your wife,” you scoff. 

“It’s what you are, are you not?” 

You don’t say anything. 

“Do you want to tell me what you’re thinking about? We’ve been playing this game of back and forth and I’m growing tired of it.” 

“You want to know? You really are asking me this? Fine, I'll tell you.” Your voice trembled with suppressed emotion, a volcano on the brink of eruption. “I hate you for what you do.”

If he wasn’t paying attention before, he definitely is now. He sets down his fork softly. 

“Tell me what I do.” 

His simple response, his nonchalance, his ignorance of the whole situation, of your feelings, enrages you. The anger that had been simmering within you finally bubbled over, and you couldn't hold back the torrent of emotions any longer. Your voice cracked as you unleashed the storm that had been building up for far too long.

“You’re a murder, a killer. You’re a murderer and I can’t stand the thought of being married to someone who has so much blood on their hands.”

Ghost's posture stiffened, his own anger simmering beneath his usually controlled demeanor. “You speak as though I enjoy it. As though I revel in the violence.”

A bitter laugh escaped your lips, devoid of any humor. “Maybe you don't revel in it, but you certainly tolerate it, don't you? You justify it as the cost of maintaining your power. Well, I can't stand it. I can't stand the sight of you, knowing what you've done.”

His gaze bore into yours, the tension between you like a physical weight in the room. He opened his mouth, searching for words to counter your accusations, but you interrupted him. 

“And not to mention, I’m here now. Yeah, I’m all of a sudden the queen of your kingdom, and everyone expects me to tolerate it and to know what I’m doing. I have no fucking idea what I’m supposed to be doing here.”

Ghost's eyes flashed with frustration. “You think I don't carry the weight of every decision I make? You think I don't question myself, every night, about the lives lost under my command?”

Your laughter was harsh, cutting through the air like a blade. "Your remorse doesn't wash the blood on your hands. And it certainly doesn't—”

“You don’t even know what you’re talking about, do you?” he cuts you off, the interruption slicing through the air. 

His voice is low and strained.

“You don't know the weight of these decisions this kingdom has had to face. You don't know the sacrifices I've had to make to protect this kingdom, to ensure its survival. Every choice I make, every life lost, it's a burden I carry with me every day.”

Your breath caught in your throat, his words penetrating the walls of anger you had built up. You looked into his eyes, seeing something raw beneath his exterior. For the first time in a long while, you saw Ghost not as a cold king, but as a man – a man burdened by the choices he had made.

“I never wanted you to see me like this. I never wanted you to be exposed to the violence associated with me, and I sure as hell never wanted you to despise me.”

“You’re too good for me, you don’t deserve to be in this kingdom with me. So I tried my best to shield you from this side of me, from the violence associated with Kastron. I want to work toward a better future, not only for the kingdom, but for us.” 

You take in his words, understanding the weight of it. You’re going to be here for a lifetime. You’re not going anywhere. And who are you if you back down from a challenge? No, you’re a fighter, and you’ll go down fighting for what you think is right until the day you die. 

“I don’t know if I can just…forget everything,” you say slowly. “And I’m not expecting you to.”

“But, I can’t live the rest of my life here resenting you. It’s exhausting. I mean, fuck, I’m the queen of this kingdom,” you shake your head. 

A deep sigh escaped your lips, your shoulders sagging as the weight of your anger began to lift, replaced by a complex mixture of emotions.

"I don’t want to resent you," you admitted, your voice softer now. You twist the wedding ring on your finger. Ghost pretends not to notice.

“How can I close this distance between us?” Ghost pipes up with a calm tone. “How can I be better for you?”

“I… I don’t really know…” you say. “I just want to get to know who you really are. Who Simon is.”  

He’s quiet. 

“I could say the same for you, you know. I want to know who you are as well.” 

You nod slowly. “Okay…”

“After all, we do have a lifetime together,” he grunts. You pick your fork back up and take a bite of food. You think while you chew, taking in the last few moments. 

“I hope, with time, we can find a way to…overcome this. Together.” You nod your head solemnly.

Silence settled between you, a tense quiet that held the hope of change. The journey ahead was uncertain, a path fraught with challenges, but as you looked at him, you saw not just a king with blood on his hands, but a man willing to confront his past.

The anger that had ignited your words was still there, but it was tempered now by a glimmer of understanding, a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, you could find a way to stand together against the darkness that haunted both of you.

- - - - -

(masterlist)

[fleur-a-whump]

Overloaded (#5)

Rocky Reunions Pt. 2

More Kai being grumpy plus his team!!

previous | masterlist | next

CW: uhh shock collar, mentioned electrocution, whumpee paraded around, ex-villain whumpee, hero whumper, hero caretakers

Kai plops into the auditorium seat next to Elijah, letting out a long suffering sigh. His partner chuckles slightly, accustomed to his moodiness and drama, but when he catches a glimpse of Kai’s tight expression, he stops.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, as the Hero League Director and council walk out on the stage. They take their seats at the curved council table, outfitted with microphones and interrupted by a tall center podium, settling in to conduct the briefing.

Kai shakes his head, not wanting to get into it when the meeting is about to start. Elijah gives him a look.

“Later,” he promises, softening, giving him a small, reassuring smile.

Elijah nods and turns to the stage as the meeting begins.

Director Jaida Murphy stands tall and composed at the center podium, her serious face breaking easily into a winning smile once the auditorium has settled. Her voice is loud and clear over the speakers, swiftly silencing any lingering murmurs of the crowd.

“Thank you all for coming to this month’s briefing. We have many things to cover on the docket today so let’s go ahead and get going. First and foremost, Secretary Cho, will you read the previous meeting’s minutes?” she says, turning to the older gentleman at the end of the row, who’s set up with a steno machine.

Kai zones in and out of the tedious meeting. He’s well-practiced in discerning the useless and important parts and is assured by the knowledge that Lizzy, another member of his team, is an obsessive and thorough note-taker. If he accidentally zones out for something important, he can goad her into sharing her notes with him. Though he’d rather avoid the teasing that comes along with that.

He snaps back to attention at the words “villain reform initiative.”

“As you all know, a major responsibility of this organization is to invest in the effective reform of the villains we encounter while protecting the city. Team Delta is currently spearheading a new project which both makes use of insider information from some of the most devious crime syndicates in Hyperion City and actively reforming a major villain, directing his abilities towards the greater good. To tell us more about this new program, please welcome Miguel Toro, and Jasper Lane, also known as Tinker.”

There’s polite applause, underlined by suspicious murmuring, as the two join the council on the stage. Director Murphy steps aside and the two take her place at the podium. Jasper stands just behind Miguel, his face carefully neutral. Kai can make out that the kid is still slightly green after seeing it earlier. He doubts anyone else picks up on it though. He hopes he doesn’t get sick on stage.

What catches his attention most, and likely everyone else’s, is the collar still tightly fastened around his neck. He’d changed his shirt since Kai saw him, now wearing what could be scrubs—or a prisoner’s top—with a v-neck that puts the collar on prominent display. The brazen showcase makes Kai nauseous. It doesn’t sit well with him, no matter what Jasper has done.

He watches the kid's Adam's apple bob against it in anxiety. Kai’s skin prickles as he remembers how badly the electricity hurt him, second hand. He wonders how often they use it.

“Hello,” Miguel says, loudly, firmly, in an attempt to settle the whispers still rippling through the auditorium. He’s not nearly as effective as the Director, but it does quiet some.

“Thank you for allowing us to present this project to you today. Jasper has been working with us for about six months, and we can report only positive results from this venture. He’s used his technopath abilities to improve our equipment and assist on over two dozen missions, most notably with data recovery from the Blitz Family Warehouse reconnaissance mission down at the Wharf last month. Most importantly, as Jasper is the son of old school villain Nero and protege of Psychosis, Jasper has supplied us with invaluable intelligence from within the crime empires these two are orchestrating.”

Kai raises an eyebrow. He knew Tinker was trained by Psychosis, which was intimidating enough, but the kid is also Nero’s son? Nero had essentially been an untouchable keystone in one of the largest syndicates in Hyperion for like 25 years.

No wonder they wanted to keep him close.

“Jasper has restricted, supervised access to technology and his powers. His movement is also restricted and his location is tracked. Jasper has performed very well within these safety precautions and has been a very useful tool in our belt. We believe with properly tailored boundaries and effort made on both sides, this program is replicable with other villains.”

So, you’re just not going to mention the fucking shock collar? Kai scoffs quietly.

He’s sure the only reason Jasper hasn’t wreaked havoc on the whole tower is they’ve been electrocuting him. Miguel is just peacocking; putting lipstick on the pig that, knowing him, he probably staked his whole career on. He’s been trying to move up the ranks for years.

He watches Miguel bring Jasper forward with what could be a supportive hand on his back, but looks to Kai more like a possessive grip on the back of his neck. Miguel opens the floor to questions, giving non-answers and continuing to speak about Jasper as if he wasn’t there. Jasper stands quietly, entirely stoic through even some of the crueler questions and discussion of his crimes and background. One question does get Kai’s attention though.

“How did this idea come about?”

Miguel stiffens a bit. “We arrested Jasper in the field, and it was my idea to work with him rather than just shuffle him off to prison.”

Kai just barely catches Jasper’s face twitch. He recalls Jasper saying he came to the heroes. He sort of hates that he feels more inclined to believe the villain over the hero.

Then someone finally has the guts to ask about the collar. This time Jasper's response, another twitch like he's holding back a grimace, is more noticeable.

“It's simply a tracking device, fashioned this way to minimize Jasper's opportunities to tamper with it, given that he is technologically inclined.”

Kai nearly jumps out of his seat at that. There's no way he just lied like that. He wouldn't be surprised if a collar like that could kill someone without an affinity for electricity, and Miguel wants to pretend it's just a tracking device?

If he wasn't sure there was something wrong with the whole scenario before, he certainly is now.

Listening to Miguel drone on for the next ten minutes just pisses Kai off more and more. It’s a good thing the presentation was the last order of business. Much longer, and the cups of coffee and water bottles around him would’ve started boiling and bursting as his emotions fueled his powers. Kai’s one of the first people out the door, slamming it open as hard as he can and storming some ways down the hall.

~~~

Kai wants so badly to label Tinker as a villain who should be in prison. He wants to fall back on the comfort of a black and white world that’s been drilled into him by his League training, and not think about the image of the shaking and whimpering villain on the floor just an hour ago. But the whole spectacle made Kai a little queasy; now, he can’t blame Jasper for puking his guts out. And the way Miguel so clearly sees him as a tool, a means to an end to advance his career makes Kai see red. Partly on Jasper’s behalf, partly out of his hatred of Miguel and the politics of the League, and partly out of frustration with himself for caring about, worrying about the infuriating villain.

Kai couldn’t remember ever hearing him speak when they fought—his mask, which covered the lower half of his face, didn’t really allow for it he supposed—but he always got the feeling the kid was laughing at him. That, combined with the way Kai’s powers could actually make Jasper stronger, his electricity more powerful, and how damn fast he was without that even being his power, made every fight so annoying that he’d complain about it till Elijah got sick of it and told him to move on.

Speak of the devil, he hears his partner jogging up behind him as he angrily paces. He stops, forcing himself to let out a long, frustrated sigh as he leans against the wall of the hallway he’d found himself in. Elijah leans against the wall next to him.

“Sooo, I had to set my coffee down during Miguel’s speech because it was getting hotter. Which, y’know, isn’t how that usually works. Wanna talk about it?”

Kai huffs out a light laugh in spite of himself. His boyfriend definitely knows him well.

“Sorry. It was just—well, you know how I feel about Miguel in the first place,” he begins.

Elijah purses his lips. “Mhmm,” he hummed. He’s been hearing about how Kai felt about Miguel since they were in sidekick training together.

“Well, so, I was in one of the bathrooms before the meeting and somebody was throwing up in there, and it was Jasper. Well, before I knew his name was Jasper. I thought, y’know, fucking villain in the Heroes League! And, uh, remind me to tell Mari I burst some more pipes, please,” Kai rambles.

Elijah chuckled. “Will do.”

Kai runs his hands through his hair, putting the thick, dark curls up in a bun to give himself something to do as he speaks. “But, yeah, Jasper told me he was on Miguel’s team, and I went with him to check it out. Halfway there, he just fucking collapsed, twitching and shaking in pain. He was being electrocuted! That wasn't a damn tracker, it was a fucking shock collar!” he exclaims.

“Oh shit,” his partner murmurs. “Miguel lied?”

Kai shakes his head in anger. “Yeah, big surprise. It’s definitely a shock collar, and he’s petrified of it, and they definitely use it. The shock I saw was apparently just a warning.”

“I mean, while I don’t agree with the method, maybe it's a rare thing? They thought he was running away while he was in the bathroom? If he’s confined to their level, I can’t imagine they’d have reason to use it much. Tinker never struck me as the kind to rock the boat with that kind of threat hanging over his head.”

Kai shakes his head again, though he knows Elijah could very well be right. And Tinker is a villain. He’s definitely done bad things.

“I don’t know. I know I shouldn’t care; it’s great that we’re getting intelligence on Nero and Psychosis. And whatever is going on with the “project,” it’s probably better than prison. But I don’t know, something about it is really bugging me. I keep picturing him shaking on the floor,” he finishes quietly, some of the anger ebbing from his body in the calming presence of his partner, only to be replaced by worry—which is almost worse.

Kai tries desperately to find a way to better explain himself, the knot in his stomach that was growing bigger and bigger the more he thought about the kid.

“It’s also just, the whole spectacle, putting him on display and talking about him like he wasn’t even there. He’s obviously just a political pawn for Miguel.”

“Yeah, I picked up on that. It was pretty gross.”

Kai nods. “I don’t know; it pisses me off because I feel bad for him, but he’s a villain, so I shouldn’t, but I definitely do and—ugh.” He runs his hands across his face only to slide them into his hair and tug, totally overwhelmed with the conflict twisting his stomach.

Elijah takes the pause in his rambling to step in front of him and gently pull his hands from his scalp. His thumbs rub soothing little circles across them, as he says, “Hey, first of all, it’s okay to feel whatever you’re feeling. You saw someone in pain, and that felt bad, and that’s a good thing. If it’ll make you feel better, maybe we can find a way to visit him. Just to check in? That team asks for extra manpower all the time. They’re hardly balanced.”

“Yeah, okay, that sounds good.”

Kai sighs dramatically, “Damn moral compass.”

Elijah laughs. “Oh, yeah, you poor thing, you have compassion for other human beings.”

The teasing finally pulls an involuntary smile from Kai, and he gently takes Elijah’s chin for a chaste kiss that’s all goofy grins.

“Thanks, Eli.”

“Anytime,” Elijah says, leaning in for another kiss.

Suddenly there’s a loud groan he’d recognize anywhere from down the hall. Kai reluctantly, a little self-consciously, turns his attention to his team coming down the hall—the other three members having finally tracked the two lovebirds down. The groan definitely came from Isla, the young ginger pyromaniac of the team.

Elijah’s not having it though and pulls Kai back with a soft hand on his cheek.

This time it’s Lizzy’s turn to complain, loudly. “Get a fucking room!”

Kai breaks the kiss to laugh at that, and Elijah gives up. He turns to the team, pouting, “Y’all never let me have any fun.”

He chuckles, but still rubs Elijah’s arm in a simple apology, wordlessly promising to make up for it later. He lets himself be pulled into carefree conversation with his team, doing his best to ignore the knot still settled in his stomach, and the image of Jasper convulsing on the floor still imprinted in his brain.

~~~

I can now show y’all funny little bit of speed brain dump that manifested his and elijah’s dynamic

Kai is not fuckin happy to have a villain in the hero building

Kai witnesses some of the abuse

Kai: Elijah (boyf) help I'm not used to being conflicted like this what is happening to me

Elijah: it's called empathy babe.

Kai: WELL I DONT LIKE IT

Bonus scene w/ Kai’s team and Mira: “Did you have to burst the pipes again, Kai?” “Well, I wasn’t gonna use the fuckin’ toilet water.” “What’s the difference?” “Yuck, you used the sewage water, Kai?” “I know which pipes are clean assholes!” *giggling* “Goddamn, how many times have you burst the bathroom pipes that you just know which ones are clean?” *angry waterboy grumbling*

~~~

tags!! hello friends!! lmk if you wanna be added or removed!!

@whumpsday @sergeant-jasper @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @crystalrose141 @aloafofbreadwithanxiety

@paingoes @elizaisnotokay @quaggasus @defire @tonystark604

@writereleaserepeat @whump-queen @clickerflight @gliittergelpens @kawaii-cakes

@whump-in-a-million @scoundrelwithboba @idkwhattodowiththisaltiamsorry @vampiresprite

[tribalauthor]

THE WISEWOMAN (roman reigns ff) <chapter 3>

word count: 2k

Nervous is an understatement for my state of feeling right now.

Today is my first segment and in this segment I have to announce that I am the temporary wise woman for Roman Reigns.

Also I have a task from uncle. I have to persuade Nick Aldis - the general manager of Smackdown to cancel the fatal 4-way match since it's just unfair.

These past few days I met Jimmy, Jey and Solo. Very respectful men by the way. Uncle wasn't lying.

I have also been making friends with the women roster cause I do need female friends here. I can't only hang out with the Bloodline, right?

"Don't worry, girl. You got this!" Samantha tried to hype me up. She is the ring announcer and honestly we became close really fastly. In a few days, we know all about the life stories of one another. "I can't even wait to announce you. Ladies and gentlemen, accompanied to the ring by his special council, the wise woman - Sophia Heyman...oh my god" she started clapping excitingly and this made me grin from ear to ear.

"It sounds so good. You are so talented" I exclaimed. She is really, really good.

"Good luck to your fiancée, by the way" I wished her.

"Thank you so much" she smiled nervously.

"It must be nerve-wracking to have a partner wrestler, right?" I asked out of nowhere.

"Indeed. You are always worried about their health cause anything can happen in that ring and yeah..." she explained. "I just pray every day for him and for my colleagues, of course"

"Understandable" I nodded my head.

"Speaking of..." she looked around us and got closer to me. "What do you think about him?" I got puzzled for a moment.

"Ricochet? Well, I haven't really spoken to him but he seems like a nice guy" I replied.

"Not my fiancée...about Roman" she looked around again and whispered his name.

"Is he like Voldemort, why you so scared of saying his name? Well, he seems okay for now. Honestly, better than I expected but I had no expectations so." I shrugged.

"I think he likes you." she just spat out but this time she wasn't very quiet.

"What? Samantha...are you in your delulu moment?" I furrowed my eyebrows because she just said that so out of nowhere.

"Girl, literally look at you. That's what I'm gonna say. You are the woman that haunts men's dreams, no matter if they are single or taken." Samantha clarified.

"Come on." I rolled my eyes. Would lie if I said I didn't get this before.

"He is divorced by the way but you haven't heard this from me" Samantha switched to whispering again.

"What? I mean...how do you know? I mean, yeah whatever, I guess. Uncle is divorced as well." I shrugged. What did I just do? Now it will seem like I'm happy because of that fact.

"You don't get my point. What I'm trying to tell you is that you should be careful if you don't wanna end up being caught in his vice grip" Sam giggled cause she knows I got the reference very well. However, I was totally unfazed because I don't see myself with a man like him.

"Ha-ha, so funny, Samantha, ha-ha. Don't you worry about me. I have learned my lesson with you know who, so if somebody wants to impress me now, it's gonna be very, very hard." I solidified my intentions. Robert really gave me close to nothing and I was blinded just because he was cute.

"What are you two girls talking about so passionately?" I suddenly heard Roman's deep voice behind me and it startled me so much that I jumped a little. "Woah, calm down, wise woman. Am I a ghost?" he was exactly behind me and I looked up to him since he is like more than 7 inches taller than me. Roman had his eyes down my direction and a big grin on his face. "Tell me what are you two gossiping about. Tell me the drama."

"The discussions me and Samantha were having, Mr. Reigns, are strictly confidential, so I am not telling you. You ain't one of the girls." I sassed him out and he let out a deep chuckle.

"But you are my wise woman. You should tell me everything. No secrets between us." he suddenly tried to act offended.

"This statement, Mr. Reigns, is disputed. There is nowhere in the contract that signifies I should tell you everything about my life and vice versa." I immediately opposed to him.

"Always disagreeing with me" he looked at Samantha with the look of complaint. "Have you ever seen the Wise Man disagreeing with me, Samantha?"

"No, at least not here." she replied.

"Okay but I'm not uncle. Also the agreements are only for the camera. Behind camera, I'm not obligated to." I turned to him and shrugged.

Roman chuckled once again.

"Miss Heyman, I honestly find your attitude so cute. You think you are 'biting' like a snake but honestly, I'm having fun."

"Oh, you think that this is my bad side, Mr. Reigns? I have to apologize then. You are mistaken" I fought back.

"No, I didn't say that this is your bad side. Anyway, we have to start preparing for later, so the gossip session has to end soon, okay?" he suddenly turned all serious. This man's duality is insane. He can throw some random jokes one second and the other second, he turns into a serious man. Is he a Gemini or something?

"Coming after a while" I said and turned around to Samantha.

"I bet you will" I heard him saying under his nose and I turned to him again. When he saw that I heard him, he made that funny "oops" expression.

Until the very moment he got away, Samantha had a look of disbelief in her face.

"See what I'm talking about? Now I'm 100% sure. Soph, I have never...ever in my career seen Roman like this. He is so obvious, oh my god." she put her hand on her mouth.

"Is he a Gemini?" I asked out of nowhere. It's a tendency of mine since I remember myself.

"Uuh, I think so, yes."

"That explains a lot. And then people tell me astrology ain't real" I shook my head. "And how old is he?" I asked quietly.

"Let me think...uh, he is a bit older than Trevor. Two or three years something like this. In his late thirties for sure - 38, I believe." my friend suddenly started calculating. "This year he will be 39."

"What?" my jaw was on the floor. "Yeah, no chance. That's a...12 year difference, nuh-uh." I shook my head.

"But you thought about it" she started laughing and poked me.

"About what?" I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. "Anyway I have to go"

"Coming for him" Sam couldn't help but snore.

"Ha-ha so funny" I rolled my eyes.

...

"I'm here" I shouted after I got in the locker room. The whole Bloodline is there.

"Lil' OG." Jimmy came to greet me with a high-five.

"Lil' OG"? Solo seemed weirded out by the way Jimmy called me.

"Paul is OG. Sophia is his blood, therefore she is lil' OG." Jimmy explained himself and his brother just seemed done.

"She looks nothing like Paul."

"Nah, she has his eyes" Jimmy disagreed with him.

"Ah yes. The saphire blue eyes that I inherited from my late great-grandmother Patricia." I stated.

"You may not look like Paul but for sure sound like him" Jimmy concluded. "So are you ready for later?"

"Mentally kinda, physically absolutely not. I have to start dressing up and everything because after 10 minutes the makeup artist and the hairdresser will be waiting for me." I looked at my watch.

Then reached to the wardrobe to grab the outfit I planned for tonight. It is a two piece costume consisting a blouse like blazer with a deep cleavage but it also has a scarf that is going to wrap around my throat and also a long skirt with a long slit. The color is dark blue with thin light stripes exactly like my uncle's costumes. For shoes I chose beige lacquered high heels.

Where is Roman? He was so insisting for me to come here and now he is nowhere to be found.

"Paul Heyman : female version" Jimmy said in a narrative tone which made me chuckle.

"I don't think the crowd is going to notice the difference" I shrugged.

"Oh, they definitely will, trust me" Solo said seriously.

I suddenly heard steps. I turned on my right and oh my God, I shouldn't have.

The view before me is just...wow.

Roman fresh out of the shower with his wet, long hair, his big ass tribal tattoo and a white towel wrapped around his torso. Water drips falling onto his body like tears.

"Ah, you're here, Sophia." he said that as if he totally expected me and as if everything is on purpose.

"Yeah." I turned around and faced his cousins because if I stare for longer, I will boost up his ego. Damn, that man is jacked.

"So is the bathroom free? I have to dress quickly." I asked a rhetorical question but I tried to go as quickly as possible, so I don't look at him in any way. I went through like a flash honestly.

"Do you need help?" I heard him yelling at me.

"No?" that was so random of him.

"You said you have to dress up quick and you know two works better than one" he replied and that response caused me to open the bathroom door and he was still sitting there.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Reigns but I have to decline this offer." after I finished, I slammed the door.

Is he out of his mind? Asking me this right in front of his cousins? Unbelievable.

Roman's POV:

I chuckled at Sophia once again. Damn, I know this woman for a few days yet she got under my skin. The way she looks, the way she talks, the way she walks. I feel betrayed by Paul, to be completely honest. How could he never tell me he has such a pretty niece?

"Uce...what the fuck?" Solo whisper yelled.

"What?" the grin on my face still stayed.

"Bro...you are hitting on Paul's niece" Jimmy called me out.

"Nah, I'm not. We are just joking" I immediately debunked Jimmy's statement and went to the wardrobe to search for my stuff.

"You don't joke like this...ever. Come to your senses, uce. She is way younger than you. How old is she?" Jon asked with a concern.

"I don't know. Probably 25-26." the looks the siblings exchanged between each other were full of shock as if I said she is a minor...come on.

"She is younger than me?" Solo seemed caught off guard.

"That divorce is blinding you." Jimmy started lecturing me. "You see a pretty woman and suddenly you want to sleep with her".

"I don't wanna sleep with her, you perverts. I just like her company, okay? Stop lecturing me." I tried not to yell at them because I don't want Sophia to hear me.

"Uce, you can't fool us. Look at her. A living Barbie doll. Get yourself together immediately." Solo whisper yelled but we all shut up immediately when we heard the door open.

"So how do I look?" Sophia asked, standing in front of me with that business ass little outfit and heels and so much unholy thoughts going in my head of how I bend her over and pull that skirt up and then...

Joseph, you should stop before somebody rises underneath and completely embarass yourself.

That woman is my dream personified and I don't care what my cousins think. I'm going to have her one way or another.

"Amazing" I cleared my throat. "Spectacular" I cleared my throat again, trying not to stare too much at her.

"Great" Jimmy and Solo threw her big grins and thumbs up.

"Thank you so much, now I'm leaving you guys. Bye. See ya later." she ran to the door and left the room.

"Holy shit" I sat on the couch. "I may be in trouble" I finally confessed.

"Took you long enough." Solo said sarcastically.

[ladythornofrivia]

Kingdom of Fire & Blood || (Part Five)—Revised

🐉 MASTERLIST 🐉

Next Chapter

summary: aemond spying on the reader as she meets the council. council meeting gone wrong.

pair: aemond x reader

warnings & disclaimer: smut, violence, p in v sex, sexual content, aemond being arrogant, modern reader doesn’t know how the world of GOT works but is a Aemond stan, praise kink, breeding kink, spitting kink, voice kink, fluff, angst—family drama, oral sex, hate sex, stalking, jealousy, virginity loss, obsession, reader being sassy and aroused, sweet moments with reader and aemond. Reader is a huge GOT & HOTD fan. Pro-Green, Reader is a green supporter. Aemond becomes king instead of Aegon. (P.S. Alys who? I only know Aemond x Reader)

Chapter Five: The Council

~Aemond's POV~

Hidden in the secret pathways, he was sure he was slowly losing his breath. Not because the profoundness of the Blacks and Greens have attended, or the conversation he has heard in countless times. Or the fact when Aegon volunteered himself to watch the council within to pass of as entertainment. Alicent insisted on her sons to stay put. As always, they behave. Especially the new encounter in King’s Landing.

As much as Aemond hated to admit, he couldn't abide anymore to what's in store for the council, especially to a certain name he expected to hear.

“I still don’t know what you find so special about this girl,” Aegon commented, peeping through the secret view from the secret tunnel.

Swallowing, Aemond paid him no mind as the meeting was about to commence.

“I thought you prefer to a company of older women,” Aegon added.

On his thirteenth nameday, Aegon has taken the young Aemond to Streets of Silk. His innocence is ruined by the time he returned back to the Red Keep.

“Quiet,” Aemond said, not facing his older and drunken brother, now that Aegon carried wine in a pouch. “We don’t want mother to scold us again, do we?”

“Daemon is here,” Aegon whispered in his ear with dismay.

With certain guests like Daemon came for one thing. To question.

“But our father isn’t present,” Aemond said. "Even if he is, I doubt he’ll live to see the forging tale before us.”

“Who cares about him? He’s in his bed, slowly dying away even when he’s already a rotten corpse.”

Aemond ignored him.

“This might be a chance for us to survive from the fate of our house,” Aemond whispered, but Aegon is unsure and oblivious to what Aemond meant.

The moment the doors droned a creaking sound, the council ceased their talk and focused on the main objective they have been longing to grasp.

You, appearing as miserable and beaten, limped legs dragged.

It was quite clear either Otto—or Daemon—ordered the guards to escort you.

Aemond held his breath. He has seen countless women in the Street of Silk, but has never seen like a strange aura exuding, something he can’t quite put. He has seen many women in tourneys and gatherings and ceremonies, he has seen them in training yards for a good long look of his training, and gardens and lavish gatherings and lessons with the septa—all are stiffened with false courtesies and sweet smiles. But the air of your presence filled him with conundrum, raw and ethereally indescribable he couldn’t pinpoint to how he reckoned you, regardless of exchanging words once.

His eye laid watching the soft sways on your locks and cinch of your waist clung tight nightwear. The suppleness on your skin somewhat bruised. Other than that, you’re in your broken state; bandaged and eyes averting to look below.

Watching you tossed your hair over after the guards pinned you down, the twinge in his chest lightened. As soon as he learns your name, he’ll endow you. But quickly faded when he spotted to how their mistreatment.

"What in Gods’ name happened to her?" Aemond muttered.

Aegon discerned Aemond’s eager impatience.

“Patience, Aemond,” Aegon said, eyes twinkled at your quiet presence. “You wouldn’t want your special lady to be feared by you if you show yourself again.”

Aemond leaned in back to mutter Aegon’s ear. “Perhaps it’s you who’s impatient.”

Only Aemond could watch afar, despite the distance is at its proximity between the secret walls. Soon, he abided, await for your lowering gaze to come alight and basked in glow.

~Your POV~

The guards released you after a sudden drag they put you from your deep sleep. Men in the council weren’t the only thing to watch out for; at the corner of your eyes, the guards were there, Daemon is also present in the council.

“At last,” Otto stated in quiet merry. “I was afraid you might not show.”

Still drowning under the influence of Milk of the Poppy, you said nothing but you head bobbed in sleepiness; shaking on the inside; your hands clamped in cold sweat, rubbing your palms altogether, gawking your lulled eye down on the ground.

You said nothing; eyes narrowed in drowsy exhaustion.

“We’d like to ask you a few questions regarding to your first arrival at the Red Keep,” Otto informed, wearing the sincerity of his smile. Daemon, on the other hand, observed you by the pillar; his posture was exteriorly calming in a calculating way. You’d think meeting with the cast is a good for setting up pranks, but turns out the meeting is set for an intimidation. In other words, King Viserys is nowhere to be seen.

“You’re well aware to why you’re summoned in the council,” Otto asked.

Without looking, you felt the eyes of the council members and the guards sent their pierced gazes at you before you responded, “I know.”

“The King wishes to acquire of your existence,” Otto resumed. "But he's ill, as of late. Would you kindly introduce yourself to the court of the small council?” he demanded.

The sky outside the Red Keep thundered.

Over your veiled face and bandage from your tousled hair, Steady, you eyed on each member, not knowing on who to look; you didn’t want to make a miscalculation that could lead your early demise.

Beside you, Alicent’s hues sparked with encourage; a tiny curved quirked upward upon her lips.

Behind the council walls, there was none other than green shadows of her sons. Although while Aegon peered with amusement as Aemond with intrigued notion. Darting your eyes at Aemond, the sensation in your body faltered with alerting thrill and admiration. Without realizing, corner of your melancholic lips twitched, one dimple dented, but reformed back to a scowl, bandaged hands, your back slouched as your hands folded and rubbed altogether.

Drowsy, your head threw back in lazy gesture, released a heavy sigh, your vision blurred.

Otto inclined back in his seat with his hands folded, attentive. “Might I acquire ask to where are you from?”

Your heart thumped.

“Based on your accent, you neither sound like one of us as Westerosi. Are you from Essos?”

Subtly, you shaken your head.

“Great Moraq? Leng? Quarth? Yiti?”

You licked your parched lips, eye frantic below your lap. “Where the fuck is my cigarette,” you hissed.

Startled, the council is confused with your question.

"I beg your pardon?" Otto spoke, stunned.

“I'm not going to give the answer you wanted unless I have my belongings,” you answered, your quiet voice deepened with loudness, lounging back against the chair frame as your arms resting on the armrest, you head tilted back against the frame. This time, your eyes pierced directly, knowing this information you’ll provide won’t take overnight.

Otto unyielding eyes shot back. “Whatever it is, you can retrieve your possessions back after you answer, my lady.”

You scoffed.

Meanwhile Alicent whispered—inquired Criston where your belongings are.

After a couple minutes passing, the knight returned with none other than your clutched purse.

Sweeping your hair back, huffing as you gave the council members the glare.

The council exchanged concerns.

Otto conceded. “I’d like to say my gratitude on saving my granddaughter. However, I would like to know how you got here into Westeros. More so in King’s Landing.”

You paused and adjusted yourself in the seat again, putting your folded hands on your lap. “Look, I don’t know how the fuck I got here. I went to a party, got drunk and then slept on my bed in my apartment. The next thing I knew that I was cold and wet, and someone pulled me over back to the shore from drowning at Blackwater Bay; I was unconscious for two days until the third day and then I was being chased by three men in armor.”

“Do you remember what house they’re from?”

You leaned your back and pondered. From what it appears, it’s all too hazy until it struck. “No. But this one knight saved me from them—Ser Remon Blackwood.”

“Must’ve been the Brackens chasing after her,” Daemon concluded. “Damn Brackens and Blackwoods never cease to shed grudge and the indulgence of their pettiness.” Daemon darted his unpredictable glare at you. “What I want to know is how in the Seven Hells did you survive? Or was it Ser Criston who murdered them in Kingswood?”

Some council members collectively gasp in silence, rather in a quiet outrage, anticipating.

Gritting your teeth, you explained, “For the record, I only saw Ser Criston when I woke up, when he took me to King’s Landing. Before Ser Criston found me, those three men were hunting me, saying that I should be bred with their children, called me a whore—one said he wanted to eat my flesh after done raping me and then other said whoever makes me scream the loudest wins and give birth,” you answered. “In return, I stabbed them in the knees, cut their cock off, then disfigured one man’s face with the knife. Is that good enough for you or should I spell it out for you?”

Each and every one of their faces blanched.

“Why aim for the knees?”

Your long locks shielded your good eye. “They exposed their weak spot.” The corners of your lips twitched.

“Is it true you found her in the forest, Ser Criston?” Otto asked.

Criston’s shoulders shrugged. “It’s true. She was lying on the ground when we reached to the exit, all smothered in bloodshed.”

The silence collectively ensued, replacing with coherent whispers.

“Knights often had armor on their knees, even their cocks.”

“I’m certain she’s a wildling.”

“For Gods’s sake, Wildlings would never set their foot here, not even King’s Landing!” Daemon is annoyed by the other council’s statement.

“You’ve never been into the Wall,” one council member said.

Daemon folded his arms. “No, but I heard stories of their customs—filthy animals they are as they come.”

“You mentioned Ser Remon Blackwood,” Otto said, facing you. “He managed to pull you back out on the shores from Blackwater Bay.”

Your voice lowered. “He did.”

“From what I’ve gathered, when Alicent and Rhaenyra saw you in the Maester’s room, your peculiar clothes and your hair are covered in dark sand, you were at Dragonstone while unconscious at the time?”

Everyone was looking at you intently.

“I was.”

“On that night, there was an occurrence that awoken the dragons—the whole Westeros. Nobles and common folk often talk for the past few weeks, regarding to the incident. The green star befell from the skies and plunged into waters of the Blackwater Bay—in Westeros. Have you heard of it?”

Confused, you didn’t answer.

“Daemon was there, that’s when he last met Ser Remon Blackwood—Ser Criston saw to it.” Otto then exchanged glances with Alicent. “We were…I hate to be the bearer of news or gaining the notions of accusing. But…we believed that you’re the green star that fell from the sky.”

At the very least, nothing surprises you anymore. You were drunk at someone’s birthday party, then off to sleep in your apartment, but off to sleep and find yourself awake in the middle of the forest, in Westeros, is utterly mind blowing, but soon accepted the fate that’s been thrust onto you until the reminder.

You scoffed, your hand gestured in. “Wait just a damn fucking minute,” you interfered. “Whatever you’re thinking, you—”

“So you’re the one who causes my Caraxes to nearly bitten my hand off in half. My dragon couldn’t sleep well for the last few days,” Daemon fumed as he went closer to you. Daemon clutched the side of your neck, fingertips pressured. But you were unfazed.

“Fuck off,” your voice raised, eyes hardened, shoving Daemon away, but he wouldn’t budge, his clutch tightened on you.

“Daemon, spare her—she did no such treason; she protected and defended your life with hers on the bridge and the life of children,” Otto said, but you detected his sarcasm. Otto never cared for the Blacks.

Behind you, you felt a heavy presence towering over you. But no one was there, as if someone’s watching over you.

Daemon studied your features. “I find it hard to believe that a young lady like you who could fend off your opponents with a blindfold. Tell me, how did you manage to strike under such vulnerable condition,” His fingertips caressed you on your cheekbone, leading down on the side of your throat, thumbing across the smooth flesh.

Your hand clutched his, nails deepened.

“None of your goddamn business,” you answered, cold expression in your good eye unwaver, shoving his touch back in lenient motion; your body leaned back. “A little “thank you” for saving your royal, arrogant ass would’ve been nice.”

Daemon clicked his tongue and stepped back, giving you the broken knife you once held underneath the folded handkerchief. “You attacked the men in armor with this. You stole this Ser Remon Blackwood, didn’t you? The sigil marked on his dagger,” he seethed.

Quietude engulfed the air.

“Think what you like, princeling. But Ser Remon Blackwood gave that to me for protection. I promised him that I’ll give the knife back the next time I see him…”

Daemon shaken his head. “His body has been found, buried. His family were in mourning. Seeing them would consider to be the worst idea.”

Hearing Remon Blackwood’s death, you carried no hope or peace of mind. Instead, you sulked, but insisted on not showing the upsetting factor invaded in you. When you veered Daemon’s eyes, he could offer nothing but sympathy, but molded to indifference. Somehow, it left you clouded in anger.

“This is certainly a waste for our time,” one maester said. “We’ll never get information out of her!”

“Filthy as her mouth, spiteful as a venomous beast.”

“Surely she’s a born Wilding.”

While the council spoke over, nose scrunching, you assumed, almost sinisterly ill from the flips and coils in your belly, watching the young knight carrying on what it seems to appear—your clutched purse.

Your eye fixed on the object, glaring at the young knight, who was taking his sweet time to chat another guard—a report, you assumed.

At your attentive gaze, Alicent ordered the young knight in order for you to retrieve your belongings—all which are intact due to the quality of your clutched bag.

The young knight handled your possession, but as he called you, you stare into space, contemplating. The world you admire was starting to piss you off. You understood that you’re the outsider. With your unhealed wounds, what can you do? In a world of Westeros, men and women died often.

You stared into space so much that you didn’t sense others watching you. All you wanted was a peaceful sleep, but the guards are strong, with your weakened health, you fought them off, but they got the upper hand.

But each time their discussion extended, you rarely responded; blanked expression, white noise ringing louder, and concentration in your head afloat elsewhere.

Until—

You gripped the young knight’s hand, without looking back over your shoulder and twisted his fingers; he yelped, his body collapsed as you twisted his hand and arm farther with your good hand, with your position changed—then with both hands, you shifted—slammed his weight against the marbled table, his arms twisted on the back, leaving everyone standing in shock. The council collectively had their breaths inhaled, paled at the sudden shift within you.

“I said, don’t touch me,” you reminded him, voice darkened.

Criston tried to hauled you, but you resisted.

“He has your possessions,” Alicent begged, motherly as she sounded, while the guards prowled at your direction to arrest you.

At once, you released the young knight and reclined back to your seat. From there, you opened your purse after retrieving it, inspecting all your items are intact. He hissed, appeasing the pain on his hand. The council members slowly arrived back into their seats.

“Seems you’re no ordinary maiden,” Otto said.

You ignored him. “I haven’t had a chance to get a fucking break. I think you got the answers by now that I’m not from here. I’m neither a prostitute nor a foreign bitch or a Wildling from those places you mentioned, one that you people are accusing me of.”

Nobody moved.

“I don’t think you understand the occurrence, my lady,” Jason Lannister barged in with soft voice. “In fact, you have no clue to why you’re graciously summoned.”

“I didn’t know being “graciously” summoned in the meeting by guards dragging me out of the blue.”

“You don’t know what it’s at stake. You have woken the whole seven kingdoms in Westeros! And the dragons barely slept—flying about the skies and roared as if they’re dying. I suggest you start acting like a noble maiden instead of being a foolish common whore in Street of Silk,” Jason Lannister suggested.

In paused silence, everyone was waiting for your answer.

Opening your clutched bag, you took out your dragon lighter and the pack of cigarettes; lighting up the cigarette and blew a smoke as you turned away.

The council watched in astonishment as you held a foreign object in your hand.

“Where I come from won’t matter, and as far as I’m concerned I would worry about something else more important, if I were you.” Your eyes narrowed it almost shadowed.

“Father, she’s in no better shape. It would be best if we leave her for a proper recovery to regain answers,” Alicent said, giving you sympathy. “Dragging her from her bedside while under the Milk of the Poppy won’t do much good.”

You looked at her with a smile in gratitude.

Shutting his eyes, Otto rubbed the bridge of nose. “We will continue this tomorrow. King Viserys would like to witness the accountability of the young woman.”

The council absconded the meeting, as you watched them up and left, you did the same, leaving to your quarters, but the Cargyll twins followed and escorted back.

~Aemond’s POV~

Under a stricken of nightly hour in King’s Landing, after a long watch in the secret pathway, Aemond’s internal aggravation simmered and worsened as time struck pass. Hands flexed and fingernail scratched against the palm, recalling on you exiting the council, despite the Cargyll brothers kindly escorted you back to a spare room that Aemond assigned since your first arrival. He could never undo the memory of you.

Soon, Aemond learned that Daemon ordered them to a quick way “summon” you. Ser Criston and Aemond abducted the men in armor who mistreated you, yanking the sleeping guards buried deep the underground of Red Keep, only for their tongues to be cut and their bones to be bloody and fractured.

He got up and under the lavish wooden box, it contained in miscellaneous items. But underneath, he had the possession of your clothes—all washed and dried. No blood stains or mud was to be seen.

Once he gathered the materials, Aemond lounged back on his velvet chair near at the great hearth, not averting from the bright fire, clenching your attire in his arms, and lifted to his nose; a fainted scent of vanilla and strawberry wafted, aroused his cock.

His heart aflame, determined and tribulation all at once. He must have you. He must claim you as his only lover. He must claim you and your smile alone. His white flower, his hope, his wandering light. He must succeed.

No matter what.

Taglist: @galactict3a @daonenonlysandman @toodlesxcuddles @hufflepuff1700 @me753 @fredskum @omgsuperstarg @xcharlottemikaelsonx @paninisstuff @danika1994 @angeljcca @taintedlovesworld @kukulyarva @darylandbethfanforever9 @blackswxnn @namelesslosers @heavenly1927 @snh96 @colored-tr-panels @valeskafics

@ aemondswifffeeeyyy - all rights reserved.

[rei-ismyname]

Maddie Pryor, Real Girl Part 1

I really appreciate that The First Krakoan Age, and specifically Hellions, refused to minimise the harm that had been done to Madelyne Pryor. Sure, she embraced demons and tried to end the world but I support women's wrongs. Plus she had really solid reasons.

Next level underboob game

For some reason she was in the Essex State Home for Foundlings when the Hellions arrived to demolish it, AKA destroying a clone farm full of things he'd thrown away under the Quiet Council's mandate. Heartbreakingly, when Alex asks when she returned, she tells him 'years ago, and noone cared.'

Again, she's been left behind and thrown away by the popular mutants. An outcast among outcasts. I love the mouth disappearing spell, it's gotta be very useful especially if you're tired of having men speak over you.

It's her story, and she deserves control of it. Shut the fuck up, Alex.

Woah, Havok. That's hecticccc

She gets to speak her pain at last, and still a Summers brother acts like the main character.

Yeah, sure dude. But maybe hear what she has to say first? Obviously I live for their drama, and clearly Maddie does too. Very clear power dynamics. Healthy? Fuck no, but she deserves it, as a treat.

'It's like I don't exist until I start hurting people' is such a killer line. Also, John Greycrow did do those things. It's unclear how much agency he had as they were/are both cloned by Sinister, but it's accurate and I love to see it said aloud.

Yes, (Goblin) queen.

Her plan is definitely extreme with a lot of collateral damage, but the feelings and grievances are valid. That Alex Summers agrees probably tells us it's a bit much.

I'm actually not sure what's happening here aside from the obvious, but it sucks to see her die. Little surprised a single bullet could get past her magic and telekinesis, so maybe it isn't the real Maddie. It doesn't matter, though.

I'd call this a sad fridging designed to fuel Havok's angst and character growth, but this isn't the last we see of her. It is sad, though. Her grievances have been raised but not heard or addressed, and they must be. Next time we'll see how.

[anakinskywalkerog]

My Very Soul (Chapter 33)

Anakin Skywalker x Jedi!Reader

Link to Chapter 32

Warnings: grief!! depression!!! tread lightly!! things will get better, our girl will heal, but please engage with this only if you feel good/healthy yourself! also, drama/angst, but that's what you get from me

Summary: Anakin comforts you after the death of your Master; you wrestle with some difficult truths, and agree to train with someone new

Word Count: 2.7k

It was heavy. There was no other way to explain it. Your grief was a heavy pillow, suffocating you as you lay in your bed. You felt like the sheets might swallow whole you under the weight. The feel of Anakin's arms around you faded in the face of the soft, quiet, heavy feeling pressing on you. It was like being underwater. It was like trying to fight wind stronger than a hurricane. It pushed you down, and you felt like you had no strength to fight against it.

You'd awoken after Felucia in the Temple's medical chamber, Anakin at your side. You had no memory of anything that had happened after Yuma had been killed, and you didn't understand why Anakin looked so full of relief, why he had tears in his eyes at the sight of you. Obi-Wan had simply explained that you had lost consciousness, similar to the way you had when encountering Dooku's presence. Something in Anakin's face told you that it wasn't quite that simple.

Still, you couldn't find it in yourself to care, much, about what had happened after your Master had been taken from you. You couldn't find it in yourself to care about anything at all, other than the arms that remained around you, other than having Anakin by your side. You found that there were times when even that desire started to fade; when you felt the heaviness pressing in and lost any feeling at all.

"Y/N," Anakin whispered, shaking your arm a little, reaching over to run his fingers gently through your thick hair, pushing it away from your face. Every so often he would say something like this, something soft and gentle, like he were trying to make sure you could still hear him.

"I'm here," you replied, not looking at him, but reaching out and gripping his sleeve. Anakin brushed away the tears that fell softly and steadily out of your eyes and onto the sheets of the big bed in your Jedi apartment, situated in the Knight's Billet in the Temple. This is where you had remained for days, barely moving, barely sleeping or eating, struggling to fight the weight in order to keep breathing.

After you had left the medical chambers, you had recounted to the Council how Vyra had lured you into that cave, how she had manipulated the severity of the battle on Felucia and used the Sith dwelling to call to you in order to trap you and 'torture' you. You had told them what she had said of her reason for doing so, her grudge that she had held since you had been assigned your mission on Serenno. You had explained what she had recounted about Dooku and his mysterious "Master"; you'd noticed that Yoda and Windu had shared a look at that information. You couldn't bring yourself to care, at the moment, what that meant. You had struggled for breath, standing in the center of that circle of Jedi atop the tall tower, as you had recounted the last moments of Yuma's life: how she had been in the throes of a horrible vision, caused by the poison that made her live through her worst fears. You could barely get the words out when you described Vyra killing your Master, and taking her lightsaber. Obi-Wan had stood up to walk you out, his hand on your back the whole way back to your apartment, his face grim. You hadn't emerged since.

"Y/N," Anakin said again, stroking your face, your arm. "You need to eat something." You shook your head. The thought of moving at all, let alone eating, drinking, sounded too hard. You felt the heaviness pressing in on you.

"I love you," Anakin said again, and the agony in his presence was like a spark, a stabbing pain that brought you out of the heavy feeling, if only for a moment. Your eyes filled, again, with tears.

"I know," you whispered, looking into his eyes.

"I'll be here with you," Anakin said, reaching forward to kiss your eyelids, brushing the tears away with the gentle press of his lips. "I won't let them make me leave."

"You can't stay forever, Ani," you sighed, curling into him, wishing your words weren't true.

"I won't—"

Anakin cut off his words, feeling the same disturbance in the Force that made your senses heighten. Someone was coming.

A soft knock sounded on the door of the apartment. You and Anakin both looked at each other, sensing the presence that stood outside.

"Maybe he'll leave," you breathed into Anakin's ear, not moving. Anakin remained still, listening. You waited, holding your breath.

"Y/N," you heard, Obi-Wan's soft voice calling through the door as he knocked again. If he came into the apartment, it would only take a few steps past the kitchen for him to see through the open bedroom door, where he would find you and Anakin in bed together—

"What do we do?" you whispered, panicked, your eyes widening. Numb with grief you may be; but if you and Anakin were caught, it could risk your position in the Order. Anakin's eyes darted around, and landed on the tiny wardrobe built into the wall. Jedi Knights were granted little storage space, as they were not to keep possessions of their own.

"Anakin, he'll sense you!" you whispered frantically, but Anakin was already up and running in his boxers to the wardrobe. He sucked in his gut and used the force to close the wardrobe's doors as you heard Obi-Wan's voice sound again from outside the door.

"Y/N, I'm coming in," Obi-Wan said, his voice gentle and suppliant. You pulled yourself up in your bed, fighting against the heaviness in your limbs as you used the Force to summon your robe, hastily throwing it on over your nightgown as the door to your apartment opened and Obi-Wan stepped inside.

"I'm sorry to disturb you," Obi-Wan said as he walked forward to stand in the open door of your bedroom. You knew you probably looked like Moraband; you hadn't visited the refresher in days, and your hair was a tangled mess on your head. You felt Obi-Wan's thoughts linger on the dark circles under your eyes.

"That's all right, Master," you replied, your voice hoarse. Obi-Wan walked forward and pulled the chair near the window around so that it was facing you. You gulped as he turned, looking back to you as if to ask, may I ? You nodded, gesturing that he should sit. Obi-Wan had never been inside your apartment before—his presence startled you enough that you felt the heavy numbness backing away from you.

"I came to bring you this," Obi-Wan said, leaning forward in the chair and pulling something from the pocket of his robes. As he reached out to hand it to you, you sighed in amazement.

"How...?" you asked, leaning forward to take your lightsaber from him and gripping it. You felt each familiar divot of the hilt like you had found an old friend lost to time; you felt the ghosts of tears prickle behind your eyes, and you willed them away.

"I recovered it for you, on Felucia," Obi-Wan responded quietly. "When you were found, in that cave." His tone was careful, quiet, and solemn. "I wanted to return it to you before, but...it seemed a difficult enough moment." You thought back to facing the Council, to the whirlwind of emotions you'd faced upon waking up here, in the Temple, without your Master, for the first time in your life.

"Thank you," you managed to get out, looking back up at him and keeping your tears at bay. He simply nodded. You looked around, feeling awkward, working to keep your gaze anywhere but on the wardrobe behind Obi-Wan's back.

"I also..." Obi-Wan started, and you met his gaze, his face lit by the rays of sun streaming in through the partially closed blinds. "I am also here because I wanted to make a proposition to you."

You squinted, gripping your robe around yourself, inclining your head to indicate that he should continue.

"You are, of course, under no obligation to do so..." Obi-Wan started, rubbing his hands over his mustache and through his beard. "But...I know how important it was to Yuma that you work on your ability, to block out the presences of the Sith." At these words, your heart dropped. The weight came back in full force, pushing you down. It was an effort to keep yourself seated, to not lay back into the sheets and give in to the heaviness that pressed into you. You swallowed, nodding. "I would like to continue your training, in that regard," Obi-Wan said, watching you intently, his voice soft. "Not to pick up where Yuma left off, necessarily. But to work to make sure you are fully in control of your abilities...so that, when the time comes that you must protect yourself, you are as prepared as you can be. I would like to do everything in my power to help you."

You struggled to breathe evenly, working the air in and out of your lungs. You knew that Obi-Wan meant well—that he was trying to show care for you, and for Yuma, by offering to help. And you knew you needed the help, knew now that your susceptibility to the dark side of the Force was a liability. So you couldn't help but hear the unspoken truth behind Obi-Wan's words—that it was your fault, what had happened on Felucia. That if you had made more progress in your lessons with Yuma, she would still...

Be here, you finished in your head, your eyes welling up against your will. You didn't need Obi-Wan to tell you. You knew the truth. You knew who was responsible for Yuma's death.

"Y/N," Obi-Wan started, leaning forward like he wanted to do something to comfort you, but you shook your head, letting the tears fall.

"I'll do it," you said, pushing against the heaviness. "I'll train with you." It was all you could manage. Obi-Wan paused, as if debating, then leaned back in his chair, putting his hand down.

"Good," Obi-Wan replied, his voice contemplative. "I'd like to start right away, given that the war has made it so my time at the Temple is limited. Tomorrow?" You nodded, looking away from him, your face flushed at your embarrassment. You'd never cried in front of Obi-Wan, and you didn't like it—you didn't want to feel weak around him, the Jedi who was always so very much in control. Until recently, you'd thought of yourself and Obi-Wan as similar souls, similar warriors who kept their emotions in check. You now realized that you were useless in more ways than one, that people like Obi-Wan would always surpass you. You wanted to go back to sleep.

"The last thing..." Obi-Wan continued, his voice unnervingly gentle. "I wanted to tell you," he said, leaning forward in his chair, waiting until you looked up to meet his gaze, "that you aren't alone. Though I know that no one and nothing could ever replace what Yuma was to you—to all of us—I want you to know that you still have family, here. That you still have a mentor that cares for you deeply." You blinked, the brazen affection in this statement disarming you.

 "And that if you ever need to discuss anything," Obi-Wan continued, "anything, even things that you wouldn't bring to others in the Order, you can come to me. Whenever you need." You could have sworn Obi-Wan glanced infinitesimally toward the wardrobe, but it was so fast, you must have been imagining it.

"Thank you, Obi-Wan," you said, your voice small, your gratitude sincere. You felt so much affection and adoration for the Jedi Master sitting in front of you. You wished only that his faith in you wasn't so displaced. You felt your body shaking, the effort of pushing off the weight beginning to wear on you.

"That's all," Obi-Wan said, smiling at you as he stood, walking toward the door. "I'll expect you in the meditation chambers tomorrow." You nodded, feeling drained. "Don't—don't be unkind to yourself," Obi-Wan added, pausing in the bedroom doorway to turn back to you. "All of this is hard enough as it is." You nodded again, wondering how he could sense what you were thinking so accurately. Obi-Wan turned away, striding for the door to the apartment.

You listened as the front door slid shut, waiting, your heart beating. He didn't return. You sank back into your pillows, pulling the robe around you in a cocoon as you heard the wardrobe door slide open.

Anakin didn't say anything as he lay down next to you, pulling your whole body and cradling it in his arms, burying his face in your hair.

"Training might be a good thing," Anakin whispered, in a tone like he was trying to sound optimistic. You pulled yourself closer to him, your body quivering as if you were cold. You felt the tears at the edge of your eyes again, felt the quivers turn into quiet sobs.

"I'm here," Anakin said, kissing your head and stroking your back. "I'm here." What else could he say? Everything certainly wasn't okay. You tried in vain to calm the sobs, but they continued. Whenever you fought the numbness enough to stave it off, this was what happened. It was, in some ways, worse to feel.

"I should have been there," Anakin said vengefully, his voice shaky, "I shouldn't have left you." You inhaled, quickly, another sob breaking out of you.

"Are you saying—are you saying that you could have prevented it?" You pulled back in Anakin's arms, looking him in the face, your eyes wide. "That it's my fault, that she's...that she's...?" you felt your body continue to shake. Unfamiliar anger pulsed through you, the bitter anger that was only self-directed. You needed somewhere to put it. Nothing made sense, anymore. Your brain turned to fire.

"No, of course—no, Y/N, of course that's not—" Anakin started, alarmed, gripping your arms as you pulled farther away from him.

"You don’t have to say that, because I already know!" you replied, shouting now, as you pulled yourself out of the bed, standing before him. Anakin was on his feet immediately, his arms outstretched for you, but you backed away. "I know what happened is my fault entirely!! If I hadn’t—choked—if I had just listened—"

"Y/N, no, no, that's not it, no, listen to me, that's not..."

"You heard Obi-Wan," you continued, sobbing again. "And you said it yourself. Yuma was right. I was a liability, and because of me, my Master is dead."

"Y/N!" Anakin was shouting now, reaching out for you again, but you pushed him away, backing into the corner of your bedroom and sinking to the floor.

"Just leave," you choked, closing your eyes, feeling the world around you start to sway. "Just go." The world was starting to fade.

"Y/N," Anakin said gently, moving toward you slowly, his arms outstretched like he was approaching a loose rancor. "Y/N, it isn't your fault. None of it was your fault. I didn't think that for one second, and neither does Obi-Wan."

"Just leave," you repeated, softly, your sobs coming freely now. You didn't deserve to be comforted. You wanted to descend into oblivion. You were starting to lose the feeling in your legs, in your arms. You looked around, but saw that your vision was blurring over.

"I can't do that," Anakin murmured softly, and you felt his hands prying at your arms. You hadn't realized you'd been gripping your knees so tightly. You started to breathe quickly. "Look at me, Y/N," Anakin whispered, and you looked around, frantic now, your eyes clouded, unable to see. "Come back to me," Anakin breathed into your ear, and you blinked, his face swimming into view.

"I can't ever leave you," Anakin said, pulling you into his arms right there on the floor. You wanted to reply. You wanted to tell him that you couldn't ever leave him, either. You wanted to promise that the two of you would be together forever. But the world had changed, when Yuma had been taken from you. Or, you had changed. You now knew that everyone, no matter how much you loved them, would someday vanish. You didn't understand it—how one day, someone could be so very real, and the next, they could be gone. And Anakin would vanish, someday, too. You leaned into him, feeling how very real and alive he felt, with his arms around you. You felt the heaviness descend as you wept.

************************************************************************

NEW CHAPTER UP NOW!!!!!

just imagine this Obi-Wan comforting you after reading this angst 😂🤓

divider credit to @racingairplanes

taglist pt 1: @iyoogi @cluelessgurl @layazul @annadastra @graciexmarvel @galaxiasy @organasith @indigoblues1207 @outoftheregular @katsukiswrld @prettyboyrryy @jellydodger @wildflower57 @padmeamidalaslover @em-asian @heavenseraph @iloveinej @leapofblank @sahverah @elsyyie @usuallyunlikelyfox @jadeonce @papadragun @dopejellyfishfury @stxrrielle @lilianashomaresparza @prettylittlecarstairs @deadunicorn159 @atoelicker @arelisskywalker @maythefloorbewithyouanakin @your-local-crzy-lady @dontmindme262 @xenochuguardian @cassiopeiashift @allihavenegativethoughts @hamiltonwc @1-800-nostalgiaaa @heyitsaloy @haydenchristensenluvbot @sunflwrsunnieshine @muthafuckingstargirl @window-to-nothing @shadowhuntyi @jedi-archives @inmourningforanakin @vivsmcdo @betrund @ahqkas @aquaamethyst96 @escapepoet @randomstuff2040 @kenjikishimotosupremecy @nycweb-slinger @anxlaufeyson @magic-magnoliaa @theezlife @unipugrose22-blog @anhsoka @lucyysthings @hopefulpursepeanutdeputy @captainson-of-coul @zelzablues @chrisevansslutttt2

[pacing-er]

Krakoa Era Reading List Cherik Version (part 6)

17. Immoral X-Men, Storm and the Brotherhood, Nightcrawlers

All Sinister stuff, tbh I lost interest pretty fast when I found out that Charles wasn't going to have a big part in it all. Each title has 3 issues, skipping forward 10 years, then 100 years, then 1000 years. I think some characters from future timelines shown in House of X Powers of X are shown, which is cool I guess. It's all pretty complicated but basically Sinister creates this timeline where everyone has a bit of his personality quirks and the mutants quickly take over the earth. There are small factions of resistance which fight against the odds to take down the sinisterified mutants, including Sinister himself who hates living amongst a bunch of Sinisters who won't listen to him. He instantly regretted creating this timeline and tried to kill one of his Moira clones to reset it, only to find that they all had been stolen by Destiny. Cue 1000 years worth of hijinks and plotting. I did find the subtle changes in the characters with the Sinister infection to be interesting, since they retain their primary personality traits but with looser morals.

This is one of the few Cherik crumbs we got 😭😭😭 it's a pretty good one though! He's hardly in these issues at all, but I also liked this Charles scene:

Evil softie 🥰

18. Sins of Sinister: Dominion

Direct continuation of the previous issues, but with more Xavier this time! It's cool to see how much of a threat he still is after 1000 years. Also we get this cute scene where an Arakki replicates Erik's helmet, which shocks Charles enough to catch him off guard. 1000 years since Magneto died and man is STILL pining XD

It ends with a timeline reset, puts us back at the end of Immortal X-Men #9. The key change is that now Sinister knows about the newest danger to mutant kind but his warnings fall on deaf ears, until Mother Righteous (another sister clone but different ig) intervenes and informs them of everything that has happened in the previous timeline. The council is compromised by Sinisters DNA, and the four affected by it are to be sent into the pit including Xavier.

19. Immortal X-Men (Issue #11-13)

Surprise! They aren't going into the pit after all. Worth noting that this is the point in time that X-Men Red issue #11 takes place during, in case anyone was wondering. That one had good Cherik bait. Whole lot of Quiet Council drama in this one, ending in an agreement to disband the council since they've all become too corrupt. They plan to announce it at the next Hellfire Gala, which Irene ominously predicts is a terrible mistake as Doug is dragged into the depths of Krakoa. This leads directly to The Hellfire Gala (2023). There are some good Charles scenes and he talks some more about missing Erik lmao poor guy!

20. X-Men Before the Fall - Sons of X

Big developments happen here. Mother Righteous reveals her goal to become a dominion, which she can only accomplish with the help of David's powers. With her assistance he is able to locate and save Nightcrawler, who was being held captive by Orchis. She kills the legionnaires and attempts to absorb David but David activates his fail safe and disappears, taking the (now empty) Altar with him. After resurrecting Nightcrawler's horns are gone but he is left emotionally damaged and decides to leave Krakoa. I thought David and Kurt's bond was sweet so I'm sad to see it go, though from some spoilers I saw this is not the end.

21. X-Men Before the Fall: Heralds of Apocalypse

Part of the post-sinister series of comics but Charles and Magneto aren't in it so I didn't read it and don't care. Apocalypse-centric.

Some good stuff in these ones! Finally we are at the Fall of X, I'm going to make that series of comics its own post. See the rest of my krakoa reading list under #krakoa era reading list

[scribble-dribble-writes]

OMGGGGG part 4 of protective Crosshair please!!!! I feel like now, these two HAVE to make it official 😭😭 how do you think a secret relationship with him will go 👀👀👀

Crosshair Bodyguard Pt 5

<<< Part 4 Part 5>>>

Crosshair x female reader

The feelings are ramping up to a Bridgerton scales everyone

———

You held being a Jedi near and dear to your heart but this profession had taken over your life so much so that it had now started to feel like gilded cage. You were innately compassionate and loving but the Jedi council had set out rules for everything. Everything had begun to have a need for politics that more drama meant you only grew tired of it.

It was relieving to put away your robes and slip into your night dress.

Freeing to have the window open to let the breeze in as the stars in the midnight sky glistened over the planet.

You could finally rest and quell this feeling in your heart, the aching throb of your heart in the way Crosshair had dismissed you.

After all the time you had spent with him, you had grown fond of his company, of the friendship you had cultivated only for it to now be ruined.

Maybe it was for the best, because he haunted you in your dreams, you wanted to lift away his helmet to see the face he had kept concealed.

To pull away his armour and nurture his vulnerability, to hear his soft whispers of his passions and wishes as you traced your fingers down his battle worn skin.

You stopped yourself, it could never be, he would much rather wish to leave than spend another second in your presence, your fingers touched the bandage he had secure over your arm.

Why did he gently wrap up your wound? Why did he care for you? You wanted to return home. It had been tiring of fighting the war and keeping the peace when no one was there to tend to you.

You could hardly sleep as is, your mind turned into a horror scape as you slept, the trauma of the war etched into your soul. There was no solace.

So as you laid there, watching the quiet shine of the stars, you heard the soft thump of footsteps out your door. A thin shadow paced back and forth before it stilled and then a single knock was heard.

You waited, who would dare approach a General’s quarters at the dead of night?, you waited for another knock of urgency or a pounding on the wooden door but nothing followed.

The shadow stayed still and it made you curious.

You walked up to your door and composed yourself as you threw a shawl around your exposed shoulders to turn the knob open slowly.

And there he stood, his armour still intact but something about him looked dishevelled, he pushed away from the wall he was leaning on urgently the moment he caught sight of you

Words, stars, he was searching for words, your hair let down, your night gown flowing down your body and your tan skin looking ethereal in this faint light, he had forgotten what he had come here to say.

His mind racing, he couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t rest, he was in torment, he was sick from being away from you, was that curable.

There was no time for propriety, he walked towards you.

“Can I come in?”, Crosshair asked but it sounded like he was pleading. This was not allowed but the guards were changing and something in you made your body move to the side giving him the sliver of space to sneak in and when you closed the door. There was no going back now. He was in here.

“I hope this sudden appearance has an explanation.”, you wrapped your shawl tighter around yourself, hoping in would contain your rapid heart beat as you watched him pace like a jungle cat.

“I am sick.”, he stopped instantly to turn to you.

“Sick. Sick from what?”, you were confused.

He let out a frustrated sigh, his hands clenched tight as he turned to pace around again, turning away from looking at you and it was enough to drive you mad.

“Is that all you came here to tell me. At this hour?”, you asked, your tone now edging towards being furious.

“Yes.”, he stated and he stopped to look at you again, it was the final straw.

“ You dismiss me in the morning, you brush past me in the corridors, you don’t answer my questions and you now turn up in the middle of the night to say you are sick. What are you sick of? I am sick of you. I cannot tolerate this any further. I ask you to leave.”, you had walked towards him a few steps when he reared his head back as though his senses were knocked back into him.

“No.”, he held his ground not moving away.

“ It was an order, Crosshair.”, you turn away. “Leave.”, you reiterated and his answer was the same.

“I can’t sleep, I can’t think, I have caught something that has no remedy.”, he explained and you turned to see him.

“Then go to the medic.”, you said softly as you walked past him to usher him out the door but he caught your arm instead. His fingers tracing the bandage from this morning.

“I don’t hate you.”, he said and you stilled.

“I’m afraid your answer is a bit too late.”, you pulled out of his touch as much as it hurt you, this mistreatment could not go on. He would have to learn to be better, you will not settle for this.

“Why do you punish me?”, he drawled as though his heart was hurt and you turned to him.

“You have no regard for our friendship, you treat me like a stranger - you elaborated

“I treat you like a stranger? You are the only woman I ever - he stopped himself

Part 6, we are getting there everyone, get ready haha @ladyanidala @crosshairscyarika @haybellewrites @bimboshaggy @ctfive

[sl-vega]

✧Other Friendly Faces✧

✧Kazuha✧-member of the literature club and in the same English class as Xingqiu. He specializes in poetry, mainly haikus and free verses.

✧Furina✧-President of the drama club and usually directs school plays. When she was younger, she was a successful child actress, though due to losing passion for the art, she stepped back and decided to focus on her director career.

✧Chiori✧-a member of the textile and drama club. Chiori is usually in charge of costume design for school productions. She runs a fairly successful mini-business where she sells her own designs, and she has many fashion companies begging for her to work for them, though she expresses no interest in working for someone else's brand.

✧Freminet✧-part of the swim team and Lyney and Lynette's younger brother. Like his sister, he's quiet and reserved, but a good listener. The two of you haven't talked much, but you do know about his love for the ocean and his soft spot for penguins.

✧Yun Jin✧-member of the music club and choir. She is also part of the Yun Han opera troupe, and has quickly risen to fame due to her starring role in the critically acclaimed musical: "The Divine Damsel of Devastation".

✧Eula✧-Captain of the dance team and student council vice-president. She's cold, harsh, and brutally honest (and holds a grudge for just about anything) and she doesn't have the best reputation due to that, but her talent and work ethic (almost) makes up for all that.

additional notes:

-in case you're wondering why some of these r so short, it's cuz these guys r just side characters, but i wanted to make some profiles for them

-i keep on forgetting to mention everyone's ages so here's a quick list:

-freminet and yun jin are sophmores (tenth grade, 15-16)

-furina, eula, and chiori are seniors (twelfth grade, 17-18)

-kazuha is a junior (eleventh grade, 16-17)

-furina supremacy fr fr

-everyone else in the main cast (y/n's group + xingqiu's friend group) are all juniours

-eula's twitter header found here

-i promise the plot will actually start after this :>

masterlist

<prev ll next>

Pairing: Xingqiu x FEM! Reader

Genre: fake dating, strangers to lovers, slow burn, fluff, angst (?), high school smau, modern smau

⋆｡°✩-Synopsis: Xingqiu just got entered into a special writing contest, the type that's invite only, the theme this year is love, the only problem is that he has zero romantic experience. but he really wants to prove himself as a writer. meanwhile, you just found out that your boyfriend cheated on you, and you need to show him that you're 100% over him, the only problem is that there's no way you can get an actual boyfriend that quickly. clearly, the solution to both of your issues is to fake date each other. it shouldn't be hard for an actor such as yourself, all you need to do is stick to the script.

(OPEN) Taglist: @freyao7, @thatoneswordgirl, @sn1perz, @latay7, @esmetrees, @nmriki0, @help-whatdoimakemyusername, @httpsrenren, @cupid-spams, @aixaingela, @kaitfae, @luvkvni, @danhenglovebot

[d0ugg1e]

TTTE school headcanons because i have nothing better to do

Thomas: That one child that the teachers cannot seem to get to sit still. Absolute chatterbox, yet somehow gets an A on all of his classes. He is 100% the kid that starts food fights in the cafeteria. Somehow he's that one kid that constantly gets into trouble but never seems to get expelled. Constantly bouncing off the walls like a 5 year old who just had coffee, and god pray that the child he just shoved in the locker is okay.

Edward: The president of the student council. Very responsible and always pays attention in school. Keeps the "annoying kids" in line (Thomas, Bill and Ben). Wise, kind, and helpful around the school, always volunteers to assist anyone in need. Practically a cool grandpa but won't hesitate to kick your ass or berate you if you need it. People know when to back off when he gets too stern with them. A mad Edward was a very scary Edward.

Henry: One of the popular kids alongside Gordon and James. A pretty good student aside from minor bullying. He loves to make fun of the smaller kids below him, but his popularity makes up for it. One of the bigger kids as well. Likes biology because of his love for plants, probably gets an A+ in that class. Would probably be a good candidate for the student council if it wasn't for him teasing the others. Thomas pranked him one time and got a terrifying death glare from him.

Gordon: The boastful boy of the school. One of the popular kids alongside Henry and James. He thinks too full of himself and thinks he is the smartest in the school. He's popular all around school. Gets above average grades in all classes, but isn't the smartest as he thinks he is (It's actually Edward). Makes fun of the little kids and teases Thomas a lot. He isn't a fan of pranks though (Percy had replaced his coffee creamer with glue one time and he was not happy.)

James: The drama queen A.K.A queen bee of the school. He always wants to look his best, whether its for class or for prom. Probably dubbed as "one of the prettiest in the school" which boosts and feeds his ego a little too much. Thinks too full of himself. Sassy and sarcastic, teases the little kids but not as much as Gordon does. Gets average grades. Head of the Drama club. He refuses to drink from the water fountains because it's unsanitary.

Percy: A quiet kid. Spends most of his time writing or reading in the library. Gets pretty good grades on everything no matter the subject. A little naive, and a pretty good target for bullying, but he sometimes smartasses his way out of it. Best friends with Thomas, and together, they're an unstoppable duo who would do anything to outsmart the Strike Trio and play jokes on them. He was rejected from the student council because Toby said he was too naive.

Toby: The vice president of the student council. Likes to hang out with Edward like old grandpas. Drinks earl grey tea with Edward and talk about the events that goes around at school. Sometimes, they invite Bill and Ben to enjoy tea with them. Gets above average grades on every subject and is very responsible for everything he does. Considerate and careful, and also very wise. He was caught picklocking into janitors closet by Edward one time, though.

Montague 'Duck': A normal student. Not very smart but not dumb either. Gets average grades and is a pretty chill fellow. The Strike Trio are still apologetic to him, and the four of them still get along greatly. A transfer student, technically. He and Oliver are best friends, and they have a friend group consisting of him, Oliver, Donald, and Douglas. Sometimes, Toad joins them when he feels like it. Whenever Donald passes by, he would always let out a little 'quack' at him.

Donald: A pretty well behaved student, though sometimes he can get out of line. A charming yet witty joker, is always seen with his twin Douglas. He's more selfless and confident in himself, standing up against the bullies, especially when Douglas got into feuds with a spiteful student. He and his brother are one of the few people that the Strike Trio is aware to not piss off, or else it'll get messy. Sometimes, he likes to get mischievous with Thomas and Percy if he feels like it.

Douglas: Secretary of the student council. Calm and collected, but won't hesitate to snap at anyone who makes him ticked off. He's less chaotic than his twin, who he is always seen with. Not a fan of defending himself or fighting back, which is why he has Donald to fight for him most of the time, as when he was against a spiteful student. He's always up for mischief though, if the prank is good enough. Edward, Toby, and Emily were not pleased to find mustard in their tea.

Oliver: Hangs out with Duck, Donald, and Douglas most of the time. Used to be cocky and arrogant, but is now more humble and wise after some other students bullied him. Still regrets the time where he accidentally injured Scruffey to the point he was hospitalised. Whenever with Douglas, he is always down for a trick or two. Likes to hang out with Toad, they're practically inseparable. Douglas was not impressed when he taught Toad how to say 'Bitch' in Gaelic.

Emily: Treasurer of the student council. An elegant straight A student. Likes to spend her time with Thomas and James, and they all get together to pull pranks on the others. Despite this, she's a good student and works very hard. Sometimes, she has to put Thomas and James back in line because they're just too cheeky and naughty. Almost sort of like a big sister to the engines. Is still currently figuring out ways to get back at Douglas for the 'mustard tea'.

[jarofstyles]

Reaper 8

Reaper is a dark story with dark and mature subject matter. 18+ NSFW

another lovely update for you, a little more background, a little more drama

Check out our Patreon for early access and exclusive writing!

warnings: reaper's explicit rage, kinda fluffy tbh, age gap talks, she calls him daddy once, smut

wc: 12.5k

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

The stillness of the morning was something Harry had grown to love. Growing up in London, he was used to the sound of sirens and raindrops against the window panes of his council flat. It was opposite to the serenity of his desert oasis. Sure the heat took some getting used to at first, but there was nowhere in the world he’d rather be.

When his mum shipped him off to his aunt’s house in the States at 13, he thought he’d never forgive her for taking away everything he knew. He was left to fend for himself out here, but it seems the fresh start was a blessing in disguise. A blessing that saved his miserable, twisted life.

Harry tried his best not to move as he shifted awake, not wanting to wake the sweet sleeping Bunny in his arms. She was snuggled so comfortably against his chest, arms, and legs clinging to him. The longer she slept the more time she spent away from this reality where she didn’t feel entirely safe. Harry wasn’t sure how he slept at night knowing that.

His lips brushed her forehead as she shifted in her sleep, a sweet little sigh leaving her swollen lips as she sunk further into his warmth. His throat tightened as he realized just how comfortable she was with him.

He still felt the guilt coursing through him. The fact he had made himself stay far, far away from her and pushed her away because he had been worried about caving and giving into this exact want? To the point where she probably didn’t feel comfortable enough to tell him someone was bothering her? It stung. His intentions in staying a respectable distance had been good but he had hurt her in the long run.

She had always been a favorite of his, long before the feelings had changed and things had shifted to a romantic gaze. It was more so on her side admittedly at first, but at age 19 when she had come back from her second year of college and he had seen her again, seen the woman she had become instead of sweet little Bunny who drew with chalk and showed him the cupcakes she decorated? It had spooked him entirely and he had taken major steps back. He knew it had hurt her back then and he had tried to keep the big brother type of thing but it was never like that for her.

For her, she saw him as a friend. Someone she looked up to and loved. And then it was more. He knew she had a little crush but never imagined it had actually flourished into the feelings she was expressing now.

He was being selfish now. Hogging her and indulging in the fantasy of laying in bed with her like she was his girlfriend. Pressing a few kisses to the crown of her head as her nude back was stroked by his hand, her peaceful expression reminding him exactly why he needed to be careful.

Each and every day he felt the anger in him brew. The anger towards himself and this stalker, this man who thought he had any claim in the woman he wanted to keep.

Whilst Harry was deep in thought Bunny had long since woken up, far too busy enjoying the tenderness he was offering her. She at first thought it was reserved for special occasions, during their most intimate moments. Though once it came, it never faded. He was tender even when it wasn’t necessary and to her, that meant far more.

Harry noticed a shift in her breathing but chose to keep quiet. He really shouldn’t indulge like this.

It was too late. It’s been too late.

“You trying to trick me, bun?” Harry rasped, breaking through the silence a few moments later. He placed another gentle kiss on her forehead, resting his cheek against the top of her head. “You must be tired, why don’t you sleep a little more?” His words were met immediately with a shake of her head.

“Don’t wanna,” Y/N mumbled against his chest, “Not when you’re awake.” Bunny knew how cheesy it sounded. She couldn’t help how she felt. Her body pushed forward against his, asking him to lay flat on his back so she could climb to lay on top of him.

“What do you wanna do today?” She asked, letting out a tiny yawn before resting her cheek back against his chest. “Cause I’m guessing I’m not going to class.”

His smile could be felt on her head as she melted into him. It wasn’t fair. It really wasn’t. Harry made her heart beat so hard and her stomach clench with the giddy swirls and he always seemed so… calm. Collected. Even when he was being sweet. She wished sometimes she had more control over her reactions with him because it was almost embarrassing.

“Mm.. as much as I want to keep you locked in here and in this bed?” He laid back and placed his arm back around her, fingers tangling with the ends of her hair. “I think I should let you go back. It isn’t… I don’t want him to think he’s won. That he’s backing you into a corner. Y’know?” He felt her nod against his chest.

“Yeah. I’m just getting spoiled spending the days with you.” Her tired voice made him want to pull her up for a kiss, but she was seemingly comfortable so he settled on a squeeze to her hip.

“Me too, baby. Me too.” The pet name had slipped out again, not in the context of sex, and it had her reeling. Hearing him call her such soft things had her feeling giddy.

“So I can go to classes? Are… you’re gonna be sitting out there?” She hoped he would. Harry made her feel the safest she had ever felt in her life.

“Yeah. And Kid is going to go inside with you. I talked to Viper about it and he’s a good one. A little younger than you, but he’s never pulled any bullshit.”

“Kid huh?” She giggled, “No, I shouldn’t judge based on the nickname. I’m sure he’s dangerous.” Y/N said more to herself than to Harry. She let her eyes fall closed again with a sigh, focusing in on Harry’s heartbeat to ground her. It had quickly become one of her favorite things to do.

“Okay, so that means I have to get up like…. Now.” She whined towards the end of the sentence, expressing clear distress on her face. She didn’t want to get up, but she’d do it. Y/N really did love going to her classes. Turning her head, she pressed a few kisses to his chest with a sweet hum. “Not yet though.”

Their morning kiss was far more important at the moment.

The two of them had felt undeniably closer after last night. Feelings on high, there were no hesitations anymore. At least not from Y/N. If she didn’t think it’d freak him out she would have told him she loved him by now.

“I’m going to shower. Do NOT,” She pressed a finger to his nose, “because I will give in and I will be late and please don’t make it hard for me.” Bunny pouted, pecking his lips a few more times before lifting herself out of bed.

“I was about to come with you, so you’re very lucky you gave me that warning.” He said with a snicker, sitting up and stretching as he watched her walk to the bathroom and shut the door.

God damn. He was in so much fucking trouble with her. He could see himself having this view every single morning, except following her inside the bathroom and holding her there for quite a while. Making her late.

One of the good things about the reputation of the club was that people didn’t fuck with its members or their women. Their lovers. Whatever. They had privileges and connections and weren’t afraid to get their hands dirty. Harry was happy that would extend to Y/N.

The black tee shirt was lazily thrown on his shirtless form, going to his dresser and putting his rings back on the allotted finger.

He hoped that she would be out of the shower soon. She really would be late if she didn’t hurry.

—————————

“Can you grab me a banana or something please!” Y/N called to him as she hurriedly tugged on some jeans. Although Harry did make a face at the thought of her not having a proper meal in her belly, he knew they didn’t have time for a real breakfast.

“I have a break at 12, I’ll come out and bring you some of whatever we make, okay? I don’t want you to be hungry waiting for me either.” It was a perk of culinary school, there was always something to eat if you were hungry. Of course, she wanted to make sure he had something in his system to keep him alert.

“I’m ready, just need to put on my shoes.” Bunny checked the clock, 8:32 am. Class started at 9. “Okay, we need to go!” She pulled her tote bag over her shoulder, opening the door only to be met with a sinister surprise.

A bag from the shop they were at yesterday.

“Harry,” Y/N's voice did nothing to hide her shock. She knew for a fact he had not put it there, hell, how could anyone have put it there?

Harry knew by her voice that something was wrong. His alarms hackled, grabbing his gun and unlocking the safety, shoving her away from the door and raising the gun.

There was no one there but a familiar shopping bag, the hair on the back of his neck standing up as he pushed Bunny back and kicked the bag. Just in case something was explosive, he covered the door frame with his body but there were no movement- only fabric spilling out of the bag.

He looked up at her with furrowed brows, deciding it was safe to grab the bag and bring it inside. There were no good moves at this point. No one ordered anything here and the sick feeling in his stomach had him aware of just who this was from.

“Bunny, back up.” He ordered, taking the bag and opening it up to see the pink fabric was… an older worn pair of panties? With a white piece of paper attached to it with scratchy writing.

“Did you forget my invite? I thought we were going to have fun together, but it seems you’re too busy being a whore for that scum. I can hear you right now. He’s not a good man, Y/N. I will get rid of him for you.”

For once, Harry felt blindsided.

How could this happen? He brought her here because it was secure and safe. He had made sure of that when he moved in. Someone was getting fired today if not murdered. He needed to control himself, he couldn’t act on these feelings now. His priority was Bunny.

“We are going now.” Harry spoke calmly, locking his apartment though at this point, he might as well leave it open. Ridiculous that he even had to do this, had to fix this, had to think on his feet so much when she should be safe here. He didn’t want to bark orders at her, but he was livid. Anything could set him off right now and he didn’t have time for the rage.

Harry kept her close to his body as they made their way to his bike. The bag was still in his hand, he didn’t think it was something Y/N should see. Not yet anyway. He folded the bag in half and shoved it into the compartment under his seat. Everything was moving so fast, he didn’t realize he was barely saying a word to Y/N.

“Here.” He mumbled, helping her with the helmet as usual. “Hold on tight, bun.”

————————

“I need everyone to open their ears and listen very fucking closely— this fucking roach got into my building!” Harry could not hold back his anger anymore, not in the comfort of the clubhouse.

Everyone had heard his bike roar as they pulled into the lot. It was still early in the morning, they weren’t expecting anyone till at least midday. They knew it could only mean one thing.

Viper had been the first to greet them, immediately looking to Bunny to see how she was handling it. To his surprise, she seemed calm and relatively relaxed. It definitely hadn’t hit her yet.

“How?” Wiz asked with a raised brow. “You live at a pretty secure place.”

Harry shot him a look. “If I fucking knew, I’d have the thing dismembered by now.” His voice was a low growl. Harry’s whole body screamed danger, he was on edge and his stance was tight. “I’m not keeping her there when he could bypass the guard at the front. Which- I hope someone has a shovel ready because that one needs a shallow grave too, later.

Anyone who allowed this to happen would die. He could see the blood now. It would be the only thing that could make him feel better.

“How do you know it was him?” Viper tried to be reasonable, knowing that despite Harry being normally rational in those terms- he was paranoid when it came to Bunny. Anyone with eyes could see he cared for her.

“I have proof.” He yanked the bag out of his pocket and handed it to him. “That’s from a store we went to yesterday. The son of a bitch was following us. Don’t open that out here.” He warned. Anyone else seeing those panties would make him start screaming.

Viper’s brows flashed up when he saw the name of the shop on the bag. He’d bought his wife a few things from there before, this wasn’t a minor offense.

“I’m guessing it’s the underwear he took from her house the first time, it’s in there with another note.” Harry nodded towards the bag, “I’ll skin him alive. He thinks he can threaten me?” It’s that part of the note that really got to him. There was no doubt that he would be able to kill the fucker, but to have Bunny see it? To think she wasn’t safe with him? It’d be the death of him he was sure.

“You two are welcome to stay here in the meantime. You aren’t going back there anytime soon, little rabbit.” Viper turned to Bunny, he didn’t hesitate to offer them their guest room. It was Harry’s room at first anyway. “I’ll have Mia sort it out for you, Wiz? I think you and Reaper should head back there… bring Kid with you, he’s got a good eye. Get whatever you need for the week and bring it back here. You know she’s safe here.”

Bunny knew better than to comment, this wasn’t the time. Harry was rightfully fuming, he was not in the headspace to be there for her now and she knew that. In fact, this time she wasn’t as spacey— it’s as if she knew something would happen to taint the wonderful mood she’d been in. The awareness of having a full-time stalker had fully settled in.

Harry turned to her. He was trying, that was what mattered. She could see on his face he remembered last time, his solid body stalking up to her and taking her chin in his hand.

“I’m going to take care of it, Bunny.” He said quietly. His eyes still weren’t all there- she could tell his brain was still not really able to fully be there for her but the attempt was there. “M’gonna kill him.”

His lips covered hers roughly, kissing her hard. In front of all the brothers, it was very telling where they stood now. Harry wouldn’t just kiss anyone, his grip on her possessive as he let it linger on the only sweetness he could focus on.

“Text me what you need, yeah? I’ll grab your school shit. We’re taking a truck to grab some shit. Wiz will look at the security systems and we’ll install better ones later but… you’re safe here.” He thumbed over her cheek.  “Viper will introduce you to Mia. I’ve got to go.”

“Be safe, okay?” Y/N wrapped her hand around his wrist, dragging her thumb over the back of his hand that was on her cheek. She leaned into his touch some more, turning her head to press a kiss to the palm of his hand. “I’ll see you later. I’m okay, I promise.” And she really was. She was surprising herself, though it was definitely just a trauma response. Thankfully, she had Viper here to help.

—————————

“Man, he’s a fucking nerd,” Wiz grumbled with annoyance as he searched through the footage, noticing how clean the time cuts had been. There was only a certain time frame it could have been if he’d heard them fucking. “It was still light outside— he’s got some balls I give him that.”

“I’ll feed them to Rover if he even thinks of coming back here again.” Harry spat, not in the mood for jokes. This creep was getting on Harry’s last nerve and he didn’t have many, to begin with.

“Look— you said you got back around 4, yeah? There is a cut from 4:38 to 5. Either he was here for a while or he’s trying to throw us off.” Wiz explained, wanting to see if he had forgotten any cameras.

“He has to be insane. Because there’s no way he knows of us… knows of Reaper’s reputation and is still choosing to go after his girl.” Kid said quietly, pushing his sunglasses up.

The man’s rage could be felt in the place, his body nearly vibrating with anger. Harry knew it was better to have left her there. He didn’t like how this situation was making him feel. It was worrying him a bit. Yes- he snapped many times, he was bloodthirsty and he killed people, he did it without a second thought if the conditions were right, the crime was bad enough. But this was slow burning. Edging. Boiling his rage more and more each day.

He hoped Bunny wasn’t there when he found the guy. No one would be able to stop him from killing him with his bare hands. Nothing could. He wouldn’t stop until he was sure the thing was dead.

“I mean… hacking into security cameras isn’t difficult for a novice once you’ve got access to the deck. But my question is… who let him into the security booth? Because there’s no way an amateur could do this from their own computer.” Wiz looked at him.

“When do your security switch shifts?” Kid piped up. “If he’s watching Bunny it’s possible that he’s been watching this place for a while and knows the shifts. He could have worked it to a way where he messed with a guard or became familiar with them.”

“Kid, how about you go down there and do some investigating.“ Harry would do it himself had he been in a calmer state of mind. Kid was younger and had a kind face, they wouldn’t think anything of it. At the minute Harry was packing Bunny’s essentials, trying to ground himself through the sound of Wiz clicking away on his laptop. He couldn’t trust himself to do anything else, not when he was so on edge.

“Gotcha!” Wiz smacked the desk with delight, zooming in on the one place he knew the guy wouldn’t think to look. “Parking garage cams, how I love you so!” Wiz sing songed, “Come here, both of you.” He stopped Kid in his tracks to the door.

The footage wasn’t the best quality, but it was obvious that someone had stopped to look in Harry’s car. The figure had a toolbox with him, a hat covering his head. Maintenance, a believable disguise.

“This fucker— He did the same thing with his hand when he checked Bunny’s car in the lot.” Wiz pulled up the footage side by side. The hand going up, the way his back hunched.

Harry was deadly silent as he watched, his hands gripping the tabletop so hard that his knuckles were white. The son of a bitch. He didn’t have enough degrading words for him.

There was unfiltered audacity from this motherfucker. He had no fear. None at all, and it made Harry so angry that he could spit. He could maim. He was going to ruin this man and wipe him off this earth. “I’ve never looked forward to ending a life so much in my lifetime.” He murmured quietly, letting the anger fester. It would fuel him later.

Wiz looked at Harry with concern. “Brother… I know it’s hard right now. We’re going to get him. We won’t let him get Bunny.”

“I know,” Harry said simply. “I’m going to track down this fucker the moment I get even a hint of a lead.” He turned and went back to their bedroom. Theirs. It really was at this point, with her stuff all over. Hair ties on his dresser and her makeup in his bathroom. Her slippers were next to his house shoes, her cardigan over his armchair in the corner. Her fake lashes on her nightstand that sometimes he got spooked by and thought were spiders. It made her crack up the time she had caught his jump. She had become a staple in his home and now it felt unsafe.

He hated this.

“I know you will. Without a doubt, we always do. Bunny is a special girl, she gets you, bro. Gotta make sure you keep yourself calm for her. When you do see him? Do what you do best, but right now… We gotta focus.” Wiz had seen Harry in far worse states, though he’d never heard him say he looked forward to killing someone.

Was this the Reaper in love? Even he was afraid to get in his way. The only thing letting Wiz know he was still sane and not too far gone was his tone of voice. He had never seen him so focused while feeling his rage. What spell had the little Bunny put on him?

Harry took a few deep breaths, Wiz was right. He knew he was, but Harry’s anger knew no bounds. He’d spent his whole life trying to control it, trying to find ways to release it. First, it was sex, then it was drugs, and now it was killing.

“Man, I need a fat fucking spliff.”

——————————

Bunny was in her own head, smiling softly at Mia as she chatted to her while they set up Harry’s old room at the clubhouse.

“So I had one of the guys run to Target to grab some fresh sheets and pillows for you guys. I don’t want you to sleep on the gross ones.” She wrinkled her nose. Her hand was going inside the drawers, wiping out the surfaces with disinfectant wipes. The clubhouse was raunchy and not suitable for couple living, but she was doing her best to help Bunny adjust.

She nodded. “Thank you, Mia. Really. I’m usually a lot more talkative, I promise. I’m just a little shaken up.” She felt bad she wasn’t meeting her at her best. It wasn’t personal and her fear was the girl thinks of her as rude or standoffish but she only really wanted Harry right now.

“Please.” She scoffed. “I didn’t mutter more than a yes or no for the first 2 months I was here. If anyone understands being overwhelmed... it’s me. It’s not something I’ve been through myself, your situation… but I know how scary it is to feel out of control of your life and that someone else is pulling the strings. You’re really lucky you’ve got Reaper.” Mia threw the last wipe in the trash bag.

“He’s scary, really, but he’s nice. He isn’t… he doesn’t harass women, he is the first one to put someone in line if they’re being disrespectful to a woman here. The guys here are decent to me but they still are a bit… insensitive at times.”

“Yeah, I can imagine.” Y/N let out a sad chuckle, knowing how difficult it must be to be surrounded by these men all the time. Her comment about Harry did warm her heart, she knew this fact about him, but to hear it confirmed by someone who had no motive was comforting.

“He um… he told me about you, that my brother and my dad were on the mission of helping you.” Bunny knew she didn’t have to say anything else, Mia would know exactly what she had been referencing. “I know you weren’t in the state to meet them properly before things all went to shit, but I’ve known Harry a long time. He’s always been a nice guy at heart.” It was still odd for her to call him Reaper. She didn’t think she ever could. “Don’t tell him I said that though!”

Mia let out a giggle at her last statement, taking a look around the room to see what she could do next.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” She offered a warm smile, “I heard you were a chef.” Mia enjoyed cooking, but the girls in the kitchen were far more skilled than she was. “You have to teach me!”

“I’d love to. Do you have stuff here?” She asked curiously. She was hungry. Her banana had been abandoned in her bag and she could go for some real food.

Shit. She had to email her professors, too.

“I think we should. I’ll go and check.” The knock at the door was Viper, his charming smile making Y/N feel a bit more at ease.

“Delivery.” He opened the door with the three target bags overstuffed, Y/N crossing the room to grab one of them. “I’m glad you two are getting along. Reaper texted me saying he’s on his way back and to have a joint set up for him because he needs it.” He chuckled, placing a few prerolls down on the nightstand. “He used to stay in here when he was younger. It’s his story to tell but after he fell into some shit that was going to actually get him killed, he came here for a while. I saved it and made sure it was blocked off from recreational use.”

The nasty sex that happened in the clubhouse.

“Thank you so much.” Bunny smiled up at him, starting to search through the bag. “Oooo you got me fudge stripes?!” They were Sterling’s favorite, but everyone knew that Bunny was the one who introduced them to him. “You’re the best!” She went to give him a quick hug before moving to make the bed.

“No problem, little rabbit. Listen,” Viper started, “I’m sure you know he’s pissed right now. You seem to know just how to handle him, but he’s very unpredictable at times and I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“He’d never hurt me.” Bunny defended instantly, she had full confidence in the fact.

“I’m not saying he will. I’m saying, if you ever feel unsafe, don’t stay quiet.” Viper’s tone was serious. He had known Harry for a very long time and he admittedly had never seen him so enamored. Anger, much like lust and love, were strong emotions that Reaper didn’t have much experience with containing. “Remember, I’m here to protect you too.” It’s what her father had asked of him.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt but the kitchen is just about to start making lunch so if you wanna take over, now is the time,” Mia confirmed as she stepped into the room. She thought it looked rather charming now that she’d cleaned it up a bit. Not the best, but better than it’s looked in years.

“Right well, duty calls. Tell Harry I’ll be in the kitchen. I’m sure he’ll want some time on his own.” Y/N walked past Viper with a closed lipped smile, still feeling strange after his warning.

—-

Harry walked inside and immediately searched for her. The only person that could keep him remotely sane at the moment.

“Where’s my girl?” He grunted at the group playing cards.

“In the kitchen with Mia. The girl knows where she belong-” Harry had his gun out and the safety clicked off before he could finish the sentence.

“Watch your fucking mouth when you talk about her.” He growled. One wrong move and Harry could snap. Today was not the day, not in the slightest. “I’ll make sure you don’t get any of the shit she’s making.” He knocked the gun against his temple before putting the safety back on and stalking towards the kitchen, hearing an offhand comment about him being pussy whipped. He didn’t care. Maybe he was.

It was good fucking pussy.

He felt a little sliver of relaxation when he saw her in her element. She had an old apron on as she bustled across the kitchen. It was an industrial kitchen that they’d invested in for the large clubhouse parties they had, and his Bunny was obviously loving it. A happy smile on her face as she had her phone connected to a playlist and she chatted with Mia. A bit of cocoa powder was on her neck, the smell of some sort of baked good in the air.

“Told you! It’s not that bad. You taught me tacos and I taught you Lava cupcakes that won’t deflate.” Mia grinned, bumping her hip against Y/N. Harry watched as his girl turned back towards the stove to stir, his body gravitating towards her without any accord of his mind.

Arms wrapped around her from behind, his face hiding in her neck as he engulfed her in a hold. “Smells good.” Was all he was able to say, pressing a kiss to her neck as she stood frozen for a moment. She only relaxed when she realized who it was.

“How do you move so quietly?” Y/N asked as she placed her hands over his biceps. They were her favorite, so smooth and strong and covered in tattoos. She waited a few moments for him to pull his head from her neck but he didn’t budge. It seems he really needed it.

Y/N continued to stir the raspberry compote on the stove, moving it off the heat so it wouldn’t burn while she was loving on her man.

“You okay, baby?” She cooed, taking the moment to turn around and wrap her arms around him in a tight hug. Y/N knew he’d feel comfortable stepping out of his Reaper headspace in the confines of the kitchen. The women were happy to see the man so love-struck.

“Mia cleaned up your old room for us. Fresh sheets, everything’s been wiped down… Viper left some pre-rolls on the bedside table for us.” Bunny felt a sense of relief wash over her now that he was back and safe with her. “Lunch is just about ready, but we don’t have to eat with everyone if you’d rather have some quiet time.”

“Yeah, I’d like to eat just with you. If that’s okay with you.” He didn’t want to cut off her social time but he needed to be alone with her. To just observe her for a bit. Last time he had shut off from her, made her upset and this time he didn’t want even a tiny sliver of that happening. He was trying his best.

There was no such thing as good company for Reaper when he was in this sort of mood. His head was a wreck of nerves because… well, his girl was in trouble. A girl he didn’t deserve, one he had entangled himself with so deeply that he knew he was going to be in a lot of damn trouble with later in. But for now? He was going to take every little moment,  every little ‘baby’ whispered just to him and hold it as close as he could.

“Okay.” She said with her best reassuring smile. As much as she was terrified, she knew Harry had it covered. Perhaps it was a bit naive of her, but seeing how fired up he got in regard to her own safety made her feel even more connected to the man. He cared, he was going to take care of it. Even with the residual stomach ache she had of the dumbass daring to break into their safe spot, no matter how disgusting she felt about the fact he was watching…. She felt safe with Harry.

She turned her head up and pressed a kiss to his jaw, rubbing her nose against him. “Let me make us a few plates. Mia can handle the rest.”

Hesitantly, Harry let her pull away from him to get their food. Only a few more minutes and they could retreat to their room for some peace and quiet. Just how Harry liked it. He couldn’t believe he was back to staying at this hell hole. That she would have to stay here after finally settling in at his place.

He felt like he was doing a terrible job at keeping her safe and secure and it was wearing down on him a bit. Is this what the fucker wanted? He was so tired of thinking about him. He just wanted her.

“Almost done, one second baby.” Bunny’s voice tore him from his thoughts, thank fuck for her. Honestly. “Okay, Viper said he put a little fridge in there for us so we have drinks. Do you need anything else while we are here?”

Y/N had a feeling that once they were in that room they wouldn’t want to come back out unless it was completely necessary. The two of them needed to decompress for a few hours at the very least.

Choosing not to speak, Harry nodded his head no and instead took the plates from her hands.

“I’ll see you later Mia, thanks so much for everything! I’ll see you later, enjoy your lunch!” Y/N grabbed a few cupcakes, utensils, and napkins allowing Harry to lead the way back to their room.

—--

The room was a blast from the past. Sure, he had crashed here a few times since getting his own places but to be staying here for a bit…. It was a weird feeling.

Sitting on the edge of the bed after they finished their food, he watched Y/N go through her bags that he had brought. He didn’t know how long it would take to get the new security system in but he knew that he needed to prepare for anything.

“Did I get everything?” He rasped, her head popping to the side as she nodded. Standing back up and walking over to stand between his legs. Her hands raked through his hair as he rested his head on her breasts, hands settling on her hips as he took a deep breath. He had seemingly forgotten to do that all day, but her touch reminded him that he needed to calm down a little bit.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered into the air. “My place should have been a place to be safe and instead, it was somewhere else he had gotten close. I got too distracted with you and I just….” He shook his head against her. “It makes me so angry.”

“Shhh… listen to me,” Y/N let her nails scratch against his scalp to calm him. “Don’t blame yourself for this, it’s not your fault… you had a security system and seemingly good guards for years, how could you have known this would happen?” This was all obvious to her, but he was not thinking clearly. He was blaming himself because he had promised to protect her and he had control issues.

“I know you’re angry, very angry. As you should be, it’s fucked up that he managed to get into your building and we had to go elsewhere. But I’m safe, I’m with you… we can’t let him think he can get away with this.” Bunny leaned her head down to kiss the crown of his head.

“We knew things would start happening once we provoked him, we can’t act surprised that he’s responding… it’s just, scary that he’s so persistent. I don’t think it’s smart to doubt him. He could really do anything. I’m the one he wants, so as long as someone is with me, I can’t get hurt.”

“You’re always safe with me. As soon as I get my hands on him, he’s going to die, Y/N.” He used her full name, making her blink a few times. He didn’t use it all that often and this was a serious use, making her tilt her head down at him.

“I’m telling you… the moment I get my hands on this man, turn the other way. Run. Do not stand and watch or try and pull me off. Okay? I won’t….” He swallows the lump in his throat. “I can’t be stopped when I get the chance. I’ve killed people before, but I want to watch the life drain from his eyes. I want to watch his fear. Make him beg for mercy and not give it to him because that’s what he deserves.” His breathing picked up, Harry stood up and moved away from her.

“I’m going to tear him apart. I don’t want you to see me like that because it’s… I won’t stop. He’s threatened you, scared you, stalked you? He’s hiding behind cowardly notes, he’s trying to act like he’s smarter than us… I want to burn him alive but that’s too easy of a fucking death. I want to gut him.” He was getting worked up again. “And you’re not going to want to be with me after that. I get that. I’m not easy to be around. I won’t let him get to you. I can’t. I’d rather get shot than let him be alone with you.”

It was clear that once Harry got wrapped up in his own thoughts it was hard for him to calm down. Spending so much time with him, she’d learned some of his triggers and ways to get him to relax.

“You don’t have to justify yourself, Harry. I know what you’re going to do to him, you have been very vocal about it… I haven’t stopped you.” Any sane person would be terrified of him, but it seemed Y/N was too desensitized to all of it. It didn’t phase her that he wanted to kill this man, she felt his anger was justified. Was that fucked up? If she was strong enough to do it herself, she probably would.

“Why are you so sure I’m not going to want to be with you after he’s gone?” Bunny took a few steps closer to him, letting her hands slip under his shirt some skin to skin contact. “Are you forgetting how long I’ve been waiting for this? How long I’ve known that you’re dangerous? Harry, if I didn’t want to be here and if I didn’t want you, I would not be kissing you the way that I do when I do.”

Harry felt himself calm a bit with her hands on his skin, taking a breath as she rubbed his body gently. Her reassurance that she wouldn’t want to leave after he killed him was nice but he didn’t fully believe it. Thank god she was here. She handled things miles better than anyone else would.

“I suppose so.” He replied, responding to her touch by pulling her in and hugging her body to his own. It was easier with her to express things physically. He let out a sigh, trying to collect himself from his outburst.

He didn’t want to explain all the other reasons she would leave to her at the moment. He didn’t want to ruin any time he could have with her. “Remind me…. How long you’ve wanted me?” His lips pecked hers, wanting to be reminded and soaked back in that glow of knowing he wasn’t the only one with pining issues. “Tell me about that. We never talked about it and I need my mind off of this other stuff… I have been neglecting you and we should just relax.” He felt so scattered, so uncontrolled it was infuriating. He needed to focus on her to pull it all in.

She noted the switch up and chose not to say anything, instead melting into the kisses he was giving her. He was right, now wasn’t the time to worry about the future. Right now, they needed to focus on the moment. Y/N could definitely do that.

“Mhmmm,” She hummed against his lips, “Why don’t we get comfy and smoke those j’s and talk about it? I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” Bunny seemed to know the way to his heart, the smile on his face made her giggle. He was really that easy.

“God, could you get any more perfect?” She was right, this would do just the trick.

Bunny took this time to strip down out of the outfit she put on this morning, deciding to stay nude rather than put on a shirt. Sure, it could lead to other things, but she mostly just wanted to be able to feel him.

Y/N climbed into the fresh sheets, humming to herself in relief. Sure it wasn’t as cozy as his bedroom, but it didn’t matter where they were as long as she was with him.

“Baby.” His mouth dried as he turned around, seeing her naked body crawl into the bed. He was quick to make sure the door was locked before giving her a brow, his cock twitching pathetically.

He was a fool. A fool for her, as strange as it may seem. Just a mere flash of her body had him ready to go- but it wasn’t time for that yet. He needed to relax for a moment. Chill out.

“I will be taking advantage of your nakedness in a little while.” He warned, stripping his shirt off and climbing in with her. The lighter sparked up as he lit up, taking a drag and exhaling heavily.

Fuck, he needed this shit.

“Get to puffing and talking, little girl. I want to hear about you pining after me.”

“Okay okay so,” Y/N took a few pulls from the joint as he passed it to her, “I um… I don’t really know when it started to be completely honest.” She tried to think back to a time before she had a crush on him, but it seemed it was instant. “I think at first I was just being the shy little sister, I thought you were handsome and cool and I was obviously younger so I was embarrassed.”

She was 10 years old when she first met Harry. The 16 year old was getting into all kinds of trouble around town, it was a blessing that Viper took him in as an early prospect. It was there at the clubhouse that he had met Sterling and the two hit it off instantly.

“It was just a crush, I genuinely thought it would go away… but as I got older it was harder to ignore. Especially because you were always so nice to me and you just, you didn’t treat me like Sterling did? You always listened even if you thought what I was saying was silly, I never felt like I was annoying you. Maybe I was but—” Bunny began tracing shapes on his chest, only pausing when it was her turn to take a hit.

“But there was this one day I remember, I was 17, I was so horny— I purposely put on a tiny little bikini and laid out by the pool just so you’d look. I think that was the first time I actually planned to try and seduce you.” She laughed thinking back, but he wanted the truth. Didn’t he? “I was so embarrassed after that, I tried to forget about it so it wouldn’t haunt me in college, but it did.”

Harry laughed with her, wincing at her admission. God, it was a little hard to hear only because he certainly wasn’t looking at her back then- but it felt good to know he had been the object of her affections for quite a long time.

“I have to admit… I wasn’t looking at you that way. I think I ended up telling you to cover up because you were close to flashing us.” He shook his head, feeling bad now knowing how she had felt.

“I could tell you had a bit of a crush but I didn’t know it went to that level. I thought you were trying to mess around and make fun of me for that stuff.” He took the joint from her, inhaling his own before letting go. He watched the smoke billow above their heads. “So how long did it last, that crush? Did it get worse or just kind of stay the same?”

Obviously, she had to have felt something for him again now that they were doing… this. Whatever this was. A relationship, maybe? He wasn’t positive. He wanted that, sure, but he didn’t want to be assuming of it and make a fool out of himself. “I remember that one time when you were 19, turning 20 and you crawled into my lap and were really close to me. I thought you were fucking around because you kept giggling but now I’m thinking maybe you weren’t.” She had played off his rejection well if she wasn’t serious.

“Oh, that?” She remembered that night very vividly despite the alcohol in her system. She only remembered because it involved him. How he had shut her down with hunger in his eyes. “I definitely wasn’t fucking with you then… the way you were looking at me I thought you wanted me to, it’s actually why I had the balls to do it in the first place.”

Her in her tiny dress, feeling nervous as ever even with the liquid courage in her system. He looked so good sitting on the couch, he hadn’t stopped watching her all night with those eyes.

“I was really embarrassed after that too, I swore I wouldn’t do it again. But I still had feelings for you.” Y/N tapped the spliff against the ashtray, taking another puff before continuing.

“Do you remember that night when you picked me up from work at the ice cream place?” That was the night that changed everything.

-four years prior-

She had been wincing at the tight grip Josh had on her, his stronger hand tugging her towards his car. “You need to just fucking listen to me, Y/N. Fuck. You’re supposed to be good.” He huffed, eyes dark.

3 years her senior, the 20 year old preyed upon a freshly 17 year old Y/N from their part time job. She was eager to please people and make them happy, bending to their whims as a newly formed adult usually was.

“You’re hurting me, Josh. Stop.” She said weakly, trying to dig her heels in the ground but he yanked again causing her to whimper. His grip burned, twisting the skin- and then it was gone.

A thud of a body hitting metal and a dark growl of a voice filled the air instead, her throbbing wrist cradled to her chest as wide eyes took in Harry’s taller form holding her boyfriend by the neck.

“Like to prey on young girls, huh? Like to abuse them? You piece of shit.” He spit, fist cocking back and nailing him right in the cheek. A yelp sounded from the weaker man, a pathetic ‘stop’ coming from him lips.

“Stop? Stop?” He laughed maliciously, hitting him again. “Don’t think you listened when she asked. So why should I?” He jostled him again. “Huh? Scum of the earth.”

Sterling had texted Harry to pick Bunny up from work that evening. It was a standard procedure, but he’d been running late on an assignment Viper sent him on. So of course, he called the only other person he’d trust with his sister.

Harry himself was running late having just closed shop on the other side of town, but you better believe he was going to make it to get her in time. Or so was the plan.

He hadn’t expected this.

“No—!” Josh’s words were silenced as Harry shoved his face against the hood of the car. He was angry. He’d seen the bruises on her arms before, thought she was just clumsy, but now he’d seen proof that wasn’t the case. It was worse.

“Shut the fuck up,” Harry growled, his grip so tight he swore he could have cracked his skull with his bare hands. “You’re gonna listen to me closely, yeah? Gonna quit this job, gonna stay the fuck away from Y/N, and if I ever hear you’ve done anything to hurt her or any other girls again— I will not hesitate to make you disappear.”

“You can’t d-do this!” The guy tried, but Harry lifted his knee up to nail him in the testicles. A real sob came out of the piece of shit making him roll his eyes.

“I can and I will. I’ll dismember your body piece by piece and have your hand delivered to your family and the rest scattered around town. No one will find you, and if they do? They won’t say shit. You think you’re strong and manly for putting your hands on a woman?” He slammed his face further into the car. “You’re not. You’re a pathetic, worthless piece of shit that doesn’t deserve even a second of a girl like her’s time. If I see you around her, there is no second warning. The only reason you aren’t dead right now is because I don’t have time to clean up the mess.”

He released him and watched him fall to the ground, kicking his side before going to Y/N. “C’mon, Bunny. You won’t see this sad excuse of a boy again.” He placed his hand on her back and lead her toward his truck. “You okay?”

For a second Bunny didn’t move.

She couldn’t believe what she had witnessed. It all happened so quickly but as always, Harry was there at the right time. Y/N never really thought much of Josh’s aggression, but tonight she had seen a side of him she felt terrified of.

Josh, insisting she come over to his house after work despite it being a school night, was not taking no for an answer. The poor girl was tired and honestly just wanted to go to bed, but Josh had other plans for them. Plans Harry had thankfully cut short.

“Y-yeah. I’m okay,” Bunny nodded, taking in deep breaths as she walked to the car. She didn’t want to seem weak, didn’t want to admit she was wrong for previously defending her boyfriend who was so ready to ignore her boundaries. They’d all warned her about him before.

It was then in that moment that Bunny came to the realization she wasn’t quite over her crush on Harry. If anything it just got so much more intense.

He stood up for her, protected her, told her she deserved better, told her she was a good girl. She had always felt safest and most comfortable with Harry, in ways she could never be with Sterling. Sterling was tough on her, had expectations, at times he wasn’t so kind about it— but he meant well.

Harry was patient with her, Harry always made sure she was okay and read between the lines. He took the time to compliment her on things that she cared about. He made her feel seen and valued.

“Thank you,” Was all she could think to say. “Thank you for coming to help me and thank you for um… getting rid of him.” Y/N looked at him with a slightly pained gaze. She wasn’t the object of his affection as much as she made herself out to be in her head. She’d never find anyone else like him, but she could try.

-end of flashback-

“I do. I should have killed him then.” He grunted, messing with the ends of her hair as she smoked. “I hated all your boyfriends. They weren’t good enough for you. Wasn’t even jealousy, though now I could make them disappear for having touched you at all. They simply weren’t.”

Bunny had terrible taste in men but she also got taken advantage of for her sweet nature. They thought of her as a pushover. And she sort of was until she decided to grow a backbone and was dumped for it, leaving her single for quite a bit.

“I thought of you as a kid for quite a while. You were. I watched you grow up. Didn’t start seeing you as a woman until around that time anyway. You coming home from uni and you were about to turn 20… such a pretty little thing. You developed and held yourself differently… you just blossomed. I’d always been fond of you but never like this.”

“Yeah?” Y/N couldn’t stop her smile, a giggle erupting the more his words settled in. “I’d just broken up with Ian. I was so pissed off he just up and decided to move and didn’t even bother telling me.” She rolled her eyes, “But I was in my revenge era when I came back… I honestly didn’t think that’s what would work.”

Years of trying to get him to see her in the way she’d seen him and the moment she let go he was on to her. A light bulb went off in her mind, letting him finish the joint, before deciding to recreate the evening they were discussing now.

“Was sitting like this,” Bunny trailed off as she straddled his lap, her hands resting against his bare chest. He still had boxers on, but the thin fabric was doing very little for them.

Good.

He rose his brow as she straddled his lap. God, he was sexy. Y/N looked down at him as his head was propped up, his long hair pushed out of his face and smoke leaving his lips as he put the rest of the joint into the ashtray.

“Yeah… you caught me off guard back then.” His voice was raspier from smoking, his hands laying on her thighs as she perched herself on top of him. Her nude body exposed to him was a sight to see. His nails gently ran down the skin of her upper thighs, watching as she checked him out.

“What was your plan that night, princess?” He questioned. “You seemed so determined. Played it off as a joke but it wasn’t. And you certainly weren’t naked but… almost. Slutty little dress you had on. I like this view better.”

“Was gonna kiss you,” Y/N hummed at the thought, moving her arms around his neck to lean in closer. “Wanted to ask you why you were looking at me like that… but you stopped me before I even got to.” The girl pouted a bit.

“I was hoping if I got really lucky, you’d take me to my room and fuck me.” Y/N’s eyes were glossy, both from the weed and the lust. Bunny could never quite explain how strongly attracted she was to him, but surely he could tell with how touchy she was with him. “I would have taken your cock right on that couch if you let me… you looked so good too.” Her mouth watered as she remembered the silky white button up contrasting against his sun kissed skin.

Bunny leaned down to kiss his jaw, dipping down to kiss at his neck. It was then that she had the confidence to bite down, giving him a taste of his own medicine and marking him.

“Wanted everyone to know you were mine…” She remembered how her friends kept asking her who he was. How she had to remind them of her crush and how she barely trusted her one friend after the stunt she wanted to pull.

“Hmm… was I?” He questioned, sliding his hands up over her hips, letting out a pleased sigh as she kissed on him. This was hot. The guilt had been too much that day, the idea of his best friend’s little sister being a grown woman and being attracted to her having taken up too much space in his brain… but now? Now he didn’t care anymore.

His hands burned a trail on her body, finding her ass and cupping each side in his palms as her lips crawled over his skin. “Was I yours? Naughty fucking girl. You’ve been filthy this whole time… talking about taking my cock right on that couch. In front of everyone?” He pulled a hand away from the hot flesh, flattening his palm and bringing it down to spank her. He felt her jolt, his hand coming back down to soothe the sting.

“Can’t believe you’ve been gagging for my cock for this long.” He chuckled, the heat of her cunt felt through the fabric of his briefs. “Slut. Jealous, silly little slut.”

She gasped against his skin, settling back into his rough touch as he began to knead the stinging skin. Bunny could only groan, pulling away from his neck with a pop.

“You got me that bracelet…” Y/N licked the string of spit her mouth had left, admiring the mark she’d created. Bunny was proud of herself, he looked so handsome like this. Covered in ink and her bites. “I still have it you know? It’s my favorite.”

The bracelet was hard to miss, she wore it every day and took it off whenever it was time to cook. He noticed it of course but figured she just really liked the style or something.

“Only thing better than that is having your hand as a necklace.” Y/N loved whenever he touched her neck and stomach. It made her whole body tingle, his warm grip always made her melt right into him.

It was a weird combination of fondness and arousal that hit him when she spoke about it. The bracelet had been something to mark her as his? That hadn’t been the intended use but he wasn’t mad about it. If anything; it soothed the possessive beast that was being fed by how much she loved to say she was his.

He removed one of his hands from her ass and pressed his fingers to the sides of her neck, applying just s little pressure to it to make her gasp. “My sweet little Bunny.” He sighed, sitting up with her still snug on his lap. “You’re driving me crazy, y’know that? You love my hand around your neck... being claimed? Marking my neck up like that too, I’ve got to wonder if you’re just as bad as I am.” He pecked her lips, pulling apart and keeping himself an inch apart. She tried to lean forward for more but he shook his head, smiling at the neediness.

​​

“You’re already making a mess on me. Can’t give you too many kisses or you’ll soak straight through.”

“You’re enjoying this? Hmm?” Bunny gave him a massive stroke to the ego, she wondered what else she could get him to reveal. “Tell me more about that night… what did you want to do?” She couldn’t have been the only one thinking about it.

“Kept telling me you’ve been holding yourself back, wanna hear all about it.” Y/N needed to know just what he’d been thinking. It was still a mystery just what he liked, he’d kept things tame with her and followed her lead. It made her wonder what things were tucked away in his mind. The fantasies specifically reserved for her.

Y/N continued melting into his touch, slowly and painfully moving her hips over him to tease them both. It was unspoken the way they were both trying to see who would break first. She hoped neither of them did.

“What do you think, Pet? Think I didn’t want to steal you away and take you right in your bedroom, hold your mouth quiet while I fucked you? I did. It made me feel so fucking guilty. You’re younger than me. Legal for a few years but made me feel so bad about wanting to find out how you taste.”

He had the moral dilemma for a while now, finally giving in and breaking when she stayed with him. She was a grown woman now and she had initiated, she was keeping herself as his girl, wearing the title proudly whenever and wherever she could.

“Then you’d show up to these things in those tiny little shorts and those bra tops… acted like a brat in front of me. Flirting with men you shouldn’t have. Calling me for a ride. You think I wasn’t two seconds away from spanking your ass until it was sore the next morning?” He grit his teeth as he remembered her lacy little tops and her shorts that drove him mad. “Now look at you. Naked in my lap, grinding on me. Letting me smoke you up. You’re a big girl now, aren’t you darling?” His thumb stroked over the side of her throat, pulling her face back towards him. “I’ve barely done half of what I want to do with you.”

The thought made her shiver with need, she couldn’t wait for him to feel comfortable enough to take her whenever he wanted. She loved his needy streaks, the way his hands wrapped around her as a form of comfort. How his breathing was more controlled and his body went limp in her hold.

“Mmmm, perfect for you no? I know just what you like.” She teased, attempting to push forward to kiss him again. “Like that I like to tease, you like me being a good girl, but you love that I’m bad hmm?” Y/N always gave Harry just the perfect amount of pushback. She wasn’t exactly a pushover but submitted to him nicely.

“Are you gonna let me fuck you how I want one day?” She asked curiously, this position on top of him was rather comfortable. Bunny knew she could show him just how good she could make the both of them feel.

“I’ll make you feel so good, Daddy.”

“Of course, I am, baby.” He swallowed, stroking over her bare skin. “M’gonna let you do what you want one day. I love when you’re a bad girl just for me. My sweet little Angel turned a bit filthy.”

Their kiss was wet as he felt her rub on him, the heat of her cunt directly over his cock. It felt really fucking good. Just having her on his lap, rocking on him as he stroked her and played with her body, tasting her tongue… he could do this forever.

It was such a stark difference from how he was with anyone else. It was just an in and out. With his girl, though? He wanted to savor each and everything. Sure, he rushed sometimes… but times like this, he savored each and every little bit as she spoke to him with her raspy sex voice.

“What’s the way you want, baby? How do you want to fuck? Don’t be shy.” He bit on her lip, making her gasp at the slight sting. “Tell me.”

“You’re so impatient, baby.” She cooed, pushing his hair back behind his ear. Bunny loved that she had something to grip on to, tugging at the hair by the nape of his neck. “I wanted so long for this, why would I spoil my fun?” Her bratty side was often out around him.

She felt safe enough to challenge him, knew deep down he could never really deny her. It had always been this way when she used to hang around him when her father was mentoring him in mechanics.

“I do, however,” She trailed off, placing wet kisses on his neck. “Want to use your cock to the fullest, ride you to my heart's content, keep you deep inside me…”

Her skin was on fire at his touch, hips still moving agonizingly slow. She could take this, tease them both till they snapped.

“Use me?”

Harry had been aware of the fact that she dirty minded since they’d started this whole thing. She had been eager and needy, always giving him what he wanted. It wasn’t a shock she was waiting on her own turn to use him. He loved how she touched him, how she raked her nails down his neck and sucked bruises onto the most sensitive parts of his skin. He had met his match in a lot of ways with Bunny.

“Fuck.” He grunted, hand gripping her hip as she rocked her cunt over his clothed cock. Over and over again, teasing him with each brush. He could feel her begin to seep through the fabric, the slickness of her cunt making a mess of his briefs and he didn’t give a single fuck about it. In fact, he encouraged it. “You can have it. Can have me whenever you want. I’ll give you what you want.”

She didn’t even know the extent that went to.

“Whenever I want?” Bunny smiled against his skin, nipping another bite to match so it matched the other side. “You’ll let me do whatever I want?” Y/N pulled back to look at him, her hand still gripping at his hair. Her eyes searched his, breathing heavily from the torturous hip movements.

Harry’s eyes were glossy, mind a bit hazy from the joint, he was so focused on his pleasure that he truly didn’t care how he got it. He wasn’t one to feel shy, especially not around her. Not when she opened herself up to him so well, the sweet thing.

“Whatever you want.” His hand gripped her skin tighter, forcing her to further down onto his cock. The weight of his hand was guiding her hips to speed up. A steady pace, but nothing too fast.

“Would you beg for me?” She countered, “Just how much self-control do you have?” Y/N created enough resistance with her hips to make him whine. She only felt like she could get away with this because he was so relaxed in this moment. He was truly free of thought and focused entirely on her and her alone.

“Fuck, yeah.” He groaned as he felt her move harder on top of him. It was a bit odd, how good it felt. Anything with Y/N felt incredible, but he hadn’t done this sort of thing in so long. He certainly didn’t remember it feeling this good.

Maybe it was just her.

Her fingers tugged at his hair a bit and her cunt rubbed over his prick, the added friction of the fabric made him weak. He was so far gone for her as it was, mix the intoxication and her naked body with the feelings he had been growing for her? It was a recipe for his devotion.

“I’ll do whatever y’want, baby. You’re perfect.” He slurred, lifting his knees a bit as she rocked on him, the hips moving at a faster pace and making his cock twitch against her. “Please, baby. My pretty girl…. Keep talkin’. You sound so hot.” His eyes hooded as she gripped his hair tighter, moving his face up as she pinned him with her eyes.

God, that did something to him.

A smug smile appeared on her face as she stared down at him, leaning forward to sponge a few loving kisses to his lips. The big and scary Reaper was melting in her hands, giving in to her in ways she’s positive no one else had experienced. He was so malleable for her.

“You look so good for me right now, so hard too… It’s taking everything in me not to sink down and fully soak your cock.” The time would come for that, but right now she was enjoying the little bubble of tension. She had never been so horny that she could cum with dry sex alone, not since she was a teenager anyway.

“And how would you feel if I….” She trailed off, her hand moving to cradle his neck the way he had always done with her. “S’ that alright?” She leaned forward for a kiss once again. “Just like you own me, I own you. Don’t forget that.” While her grip was much more gentle, she kept her tone firm.

By no means did she see him ever submitting to her, but she’d hoped she could get him to a space where he could let go. Fully. Where he could relax into her grip and let her love on him and his body the way he had always done for her.

“So handsome, so strong.” She cooed, “You’re so fucking sexy. Even when you’re mad.”

“Fuck.” His eyes rolled back as he felt the hand wrap around his throat. Anyone else would be pinned to the ground if they tried it- but she was right. She did own him. Heart, soul, and apparently, his cock. He loved how she wasn’t afraid of him. Harry knew he would do anything in his power to prevent her from ever fearing him. It may be hard, but he was motivated to keep it.

Her words of praise were whispered against his skin as she kissed over his jaw, his hands helping her move. The fingertips dug into her waist and she loved the slight sting of it, how he groaned and she could feel it against her palm.

“Just keep rubbing like that. Shit, it’ll make me cum if you don’t stop.” It was almost embarrassing. He hadn’t had dry sex, dry humped, in ages. But he supposed this wasn’t so dry. Her cunt was keeping the fabric damp.

“I intend to.” Bunny wanted nothing more than to feel his cum leak through his boxers. Of course, she would rather it be inside of her, but this had become hotter than she had ever imagined.

“Can you get it all wet for me? Want it to be sticky, said you liked it messy hmm?” Y/N was on a roll, grinding down a bit harder now as she felt her own pleasure begin to stir. “God, love how you fall apart for me. Only me.” She moaned out, “Wanna see your face when you make your mess.”

Y/N wasn’t sure where this was coming from but she couldn’t seem to get her mind off of the idea. She loved the sounds he made for her, the way his eyes looked so far gone, he was desperate for her to give him this release. She wanted nothing more than to give it to him. To please him.

Harry was pretty positive he couldn’t deny her of much of anything. Not when she spoke in that pretty little croon, grinding her wet cunt right up on him and making him feel a bit out of control all over again. She was the only one capable of getting him to this state.

“You’re….” He grunted, not finishing his sentence as she moved on him, her fingers squeezing just a bit on the sides of his neck. It made it a bit more difficult to breathe, a rush hitting him as her lips brushed his jaw and her rolling hips hit him just right, it sent him over the edge.

“Fuck.” He rasped, a deep moan erupting from his throat as he began to make a mess of his briefs. Sticky cum coating the fabric as she continued to grind on him. It wasn’t something he would have suggested himself- but fuck, did it feel good.

The mix of shame and pleasure was oddly satisfying. She had wanted him to do this but he had been insistent on making her cum first most of the time. He wanted to take care of her, make Bunny feel like a priority.

“That’s it,” Bunny wasn’t quite done with him, feeling the wetness on his boxers every time she pushed up. “Perfect.” He really was. The way his lips parted, head lulling back against the rusty bed frame. “Sound so good. I’m so close.”

Y/N felt her cunt twitch, his panting was music to her ears. His skin was covered in a thin layer of sweat, body limp and relaxed. It was so hot to see him like this, completely in his element with no guard up. Just Harry, raw and pure.

“I’m close, baby,” Bunny whined, moving her thumb over his lips just before kissing them. “Just watching you— fuck.” Her hips snapped up sharply as a wave of pleasure hit. “Does it feel good? Looks like it does, tell me what you like.” Bunny was insistent.

“Feels fucking great.” He laughed, eyes glazed as he watched her rock over him. He was a bit sensitive but he didn’t care, watching her pleasure. Bunny deserved to cum.

“Like when you get desperate for me… when you beg. Rubbing that clit all over my cock. Love watching you fall apart.” His voice was raspy, hands gripping her sides and helping her move a bit harder on him. “S’sensitive but I love it. Love feeling you rub on me, taking your pleasure. You do it for me…‘I want t’do it for you, baby.”

Y/N hadn’t heard him talk like this before. Being kind of whimpery and sweet and feeling his desperation for her orgasm. She loved every single bit, eating it up.

“We’re making such a mess. I want you to clean it with your tongue, want you t’suck it. Don’t want you to waste a bit of my cum. It should be inside of you.”

“I will— I wanna,” Bunny was so close she could barely think straight. A delicious feeling was bubbling in her tummy, urging her to keep grinding over him. The patch she had created had doubled in size, every movement bringing the fabric down just enough to see the slickness beneath his waistband.

“Ah fuck,” She squeezed her eyes shut, holding her breath as the pleasure erupted. As if her nickname had been chosen for this very moment, she felt like a bunny the way she was desperately chasing for more.

It was overwhelming, but she couldn’t stop. The feeling was far too good and the look in his eyes was one she wanted etched into her memory forever.

[asagirisfavpen]

Gakuen AU where Chuuya switched schools. He moved from Sheep High School to Port High School.

And the two schools are rivals. They compete in everything. Sports games, competitions, everything. These two schools literally hate each other.

And Chuuya used to be their best student. He won a lot of sport games and competitions for Sheep High School. His best friends there were Shirase and Yuan and the three of them where in the Student Council. Chuuya was the president.

But then he had to move schools because of his older brother, Paul. So now Chuuya is in the enemy school forced to work against his friends.

He joins The Flags, a school club that no one actually knows what they do. They're the school's elite, and their members are Pianoman, top of the his year, charming and kind, Lippmann who is also in the drama club (he actually played in a movie but no one at school knows) that is very successful in everything be does, Doc who spends almost all of his time in the nurse's office and no one knows if he's sick or is helping her (both), Albatross who is not the class clown but the school clown, he's very popular and he has a love-hate relationship with all of the teachers and Iceman that no one seems to actually knows and there's a rumor he's in a gang.

At the new school Chuuya decides that if he has to stay here at least he'll show how great he is so he decides to join the Student Council, which is hard. He's still trying his best and working hard to get in it.

Speaking of the Student Council, its president is Osamu Dazai but no one knows why and how because he's never there and he's doing nothing. In the Council are also Kōyō, who is basically doing all of the work, Adam, an exchange student that everyone seems to find weird but he's still quiet popular, and the teachers love him.

Speaking of the teachers, the principal is Mori Ougai, former doctor that probably became principal because of the lack of choices (he didn't like being a doctor because he wasn't getting any sleep. He isn't getting any more now) and he's also the biology teacher, Hirotsu who's the maths teacher he's strict but nice, Oda who is called by everyone Odasaku, he is the literature teacher but he will sometimes use the last 10-15 minutes of his class to help his students get ready for another class exam. There's also Ango who is the secretary, he hasn't slept since he started his career and most of the students love to make fun of him. And the only teacher that doesn't like Dazai, Murase that's the PE teacher. He's also Chuuya's uncle but he acts like he isn't (nobody is falling for that).

Chuuya is especially good in physics, French (he learned it from Adam ridiculously fast) and PE. He hates Dazai because he always makes fun of him and thinks he's so much better.

And after Chuuya spends like a year at the new school there's a very important competition. And Port High School sends Chuuya to participate and from the other school comes Shirase, who was picked by the new principal that's called N. And mid-competition they find out that new Sheep's principal was faking the score Shirase got. Chuuya tried to tell this to Shirase but he wouldn't listen.

At the end of the competition, Chuuya managed to prove what N was doing (with a bit of help of Adam, Dazai and Shirase who finally believed Chuuya).

The end