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cherienymphe · 6 months

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I Know What You Did Last Summer (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

WARNINGS: NON-CON, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATHS, MURDER, ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP, MENTIONS OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, BLOOD, KNIFEPLAY, STALKING, ANGST, voyeurism, underage drinking, JJ x reader, pogue!reader

➥ Happy Halloween weekend!

➥ banner by @maysdigitalarts | ➥ divider by @/kimjiho1

summary: When your friends start dying one by one, you're not exactly honest when the police ask if you know of anyone who'd want to hurt them. You do...but he's dead. You know this because you buried him.

You stared out into the water, a rare morning in which you woke up early enough to watch the sun rise over Outer Banks. This time last year, you might’ve tried to catch a wave or two, a way for you to often escape and clear your head. However, the problems of last year were gone and there was nothing left for you to escape from.

No one left for you to escape from.

Your gaze fell to the dock beneath your feet, eyes glazing over as memories of a tumultuous relationship plagued your thoughts. The memory of bruised skin and aching limbs made you shudder, wrapping your arms around yourself, the cool North Carolina breeze having nothing to do with it. You tensed for half a second at the sound of a familiar voice on the wind before realizing that you were only imagining it as you often did these days.

Some days you thought you were going crazy, but then you reminded yourself that no sane person could do what you did and walk away with no baggage whatsoever. Then again, it could be argued that no sane person could do what you did period. Thoughts of that night left a sour taste in your mouth, and for the past year, you constantly worried if you did the right thing. It didn’t matter if you did or didn’t because it wasn’t like you could take it back, but still…

Analyzing your past decisions made you feel less like a sociopath or something.

When you heard your mom calling you from the house, you pulled yourself away from the water. Your dad was just heading out for work, and he exchanged a quick hug with you on the way to his truck. You could tell that your 180 within the past year stumped them, but it was in that good way that always sparked a bunch of compliments—you’re so much happier or you’re talking more or you’re around a lot more.

The difference was noticeable to anybody who knew you…and everyone knew why.

Even if they didn’t want to say it.

“You know I leave for work in a little bit, but I put some bacon in the oven, and I just wanted you to know so you could take it out.”

You smiled at her, leaning against the counter.

“We’ll see how long it lasts once JJ gets here,” you told her.

Your tone was mocking, but you both knew you were entirely serious. After telling her that you might be staying at Kie’s tonight, you bid her goodbye, gaze focused on the oven as you checked the bacon. You knew it wouldn’t be long before half of your friends burst through that door, and so you didn’t hesitate to take it out the moment it looked like it was done.

It was when you were placing the pan on the stove top…when you heard it.

It was a light thump that came from the back of the house, and you paused with a frown. It was hardly anything—could’ve easily been a limb falling out of a tree or something—if it wasn’t for the fact that it sounded like it came from inside of the house. Your frown deepened the longer you stood there, listening some more without success. With reluctance, you wrote it off, and you only just relaxed when you felt hands on your shoulders.

“Jesus!”

You pressed your hand to your chest, frowning over your shoulder as both a familiar blond and brunette made themselves comfortable at your table. You hadn’t even heard them pull up, oblivious even to the door opening.

“No, JJ,” the voice behind you corrected with a chuckle, and you rolled your eyes.

“Hilarious,” you commented. “I didn’t even hear you guys come in.”

“Kind of figured when you grabbed your chest just then,” Sarah said with a small smile. “What were you looking at, anyway?”

Her question reminded you of the noise, and realizing that it was probably them you heard, you shrugged.

“Thought I heard something, but it was just you guys.”

By now, JJ had joined them, leaning back in a chair.

“You’re still coming to Rose’s little ‘fall festivity’ right? Somehow Wheezie got out of going by talking our dad into letting her go to a sleepover instead, and I don’t really wanna be alone.”

Her words quieted some near the end, a brief awkward silence as your eyes met hers, both of you ignoring the obvious.

“Of course,” you assured her. “I told my mom I’d probably be staying at Kie’s since it’s closer to your house. Knowing Rose, this thing could go on all night.”

Sarah agreed with that, interrupting John B and JJ’s conversation.

“You can still change your mind, you know,” she told him with a pout, bumping his shoulder with her own.

The face he made was answer enough, and she huffed.

“Besides, even if I wanted to, I’m sure Ward would be thrilled about that,” her boyfriend mumbled.

“You know he’s better, now. He’s not so against you ever since…”

Your best friend trailed off, and your gaze found the floor just as all of theirs traveled to you. The silence was short—not so much awkward—but definitely far from light. You all knew what Sarah was going to say, how Ward stopped caring about so many superficial things. How he was the kind of man who focused on things that actually mattered, now.

He was the kind of man who carried grief, now.

…and it changed him for both the better and the worst.

“I’m going to go and grab my purse and change of clothes. Bacon’s all yours,” you mostly said to JJ, quick to leave the room.

Once inside your room, your eyes landed on your mirror, gaze lingering on the bare space where dozens of pictures used to be. It had been a little over a year since you’d taken them down, but sometimes, when you recalled the happier times before it all went up in flames, you missed them. You missed looking at them when you did your makeup or even just lingering on them when you were on the phone.

Chest aching for so many reasons, you forced yourself to turn away.

It was as you were grabbing your purse and the extra bag with your dress for tonight did you glance up. You blinked at your window, a small frown forming between your brows. Approaching it, you reached out, slowly pulling it back down and locking it shut, desperately trying to remember if you’d even let it up the night before.

“I swear to God, Rose is about to lose her shit,” Sarah chuckled from next to you. “She bought that dress months ago for this stupid party only for her to show up wearing the same one.”

You sipped on your drink that you were definitely not supposed to be having, a light laugh of your own escaping. The little soiree was everything Sarah said it would be, and you could see why Wheezie took the opportunity to bail. It wasn’t Halloween yet, but like every year—or almost every year—Rose was having a series of parties leading up to the last night in October. You were just about to drag Sarah to the kitchen in search of those little finger sandwiches when a loud clanging noise caught everyone’s attention.

Ward stood in the center of the living room when you looked over.

The older man had a glass in his hand and was setting down a fork with the other. You couldn’t get over how much he’d changed in a year, and something in your chest ached, guilt eating at you. There was a small smile on his lips, but the rest of his expression didn’t exactly match up. Somehow, you knew that you weren’t going to like whatever he had to say.

“Um…sadly, we weren’t blessed to partake in one of Rose’s fabulous get togethers last year…”

You swallowed at the way the mood in the room seemed to sink, and you didn’t need to look over to find Sarah glancing at you.

“As you all know, my only son Rafe went missing around this time a year ago.”

Somber murmurs filled the room, and your hand tightened on your drink. Tuning Ward out, the only thing you heard was white noise, probably missing another tangent about how he wished he’d been less hard on him and had done more to heal their relationship before he had to file that missing person’s report that fateful morning.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you fought to keep a frown off of your face.

Memories of dark blond hair and intense blue eyes plagued your mind, making your stomach turn. If Ward’s memories with Rafe were less than fond, then yours were absolutely gut-wrenching. The hairs on your arm stood on end as you thought about the last time you’d seen your ex-boyfriend, and you felt your feet carrying you down the stairs just as Sarah reached for you.

The backyard was empty when you made it outside, and the fresh air did so little to calm you down.

You could hear the blood rushing in your ears at the thought of Rafe, a cold chill passing through you. With a huff, you stepped out of your heels, tears kissing your eyes as you thought about Ward in there giving some grand speech about Rafe and their relentless efforts to find him. You were pulled out of it by the sound of your name, and you wiped your face, oblivious to the fact that some tears had even spilled over.

Sarah’s sympathetic gaze met yours when you turned around.

“Are you okay…?” she whispered, and you sniffed.

“What do you think?” you lightly wondered, a humorless chuckle escaping as you shrugged. “Who knew that a felony was all it took for Rafe to finally get the love he always wanted.”

Your words were scathing, and Sarah slowly approached you, reaching for you.

“Hey…hey,” she repeated until you looked at her. “You’re safe, now. Rafe can’t ever hurt you ever again.”

While those words brought you comfort, they did nothing to diminish your anger.

“It’s not…fair,” you breathed, shaking your head. “He was nothing short of a monster to me…and they talk about him, now, like he was some angel come to earth.”

You knew it bothered Sarah too—she was there that night after all—and she sighed. The blonde pulled you into a hug, holding you tight and rubbing your back. You sometimes wondered if her feelings on the matter were as black and white as yours. Rafe was her brother, after all, and despite their less than enviable relationship, she had to have still loved him.

“Do you think they’ll ever find him?”

You said the words so quietly, as if paranoid someone would hear despite the fact that you were alone. Sarah tensed for half a second, probably because for the first time in months, you were explicitly talking about what you did that night—what all four of you did. She pulled away, gaze somber and resolved all at once.

“It’s been a year,” she said as if that were answer enough. “…turns out the police are even more useless than we all thought.”

You swallowed, and Sarah fought to calm you.

“If they haven’t found him by now then…”

She trailed off with a shrug, but you weren’t so convinced. While plenty of people got away with murder, plenty of others did not, and it didn’t matter that Rafe’s temper had escalated so badly one night until it came down to your life or his. Nobody would care that he used to threaten you and choke you and harm you so bad that you could barely walk sometimes. They wouldn’t care about any of that.

All that would matter was that he was Rafe Cameron, Ward Cameron’s son.

…and you’d killed him.

John B was the first to die.

…and maybe that was why the horrible truth didn’t even cross your mind then.

Your sleep-addled brain fought hard to make sense of the words pouring out of Cleo’s mouth, and despite how unbelieving they were, the feminine wails you could hear in the background told you they were true whether you wanted them to be or not. Sarah’s choked sobs were the last thing you heard before Cleo was forced to hang up.

You didn’t even remember throwing on clothes, only knowing that you somehow managed to leave the house looking halfway decent.

When you made it to the hospital, Sarah was nowhere to be found.

“She was…” Kie trailed off, shaking her head. “They had to give her something.”

You took in the way Kiara was shaking, and unable to keep standing, she collapsed in a chair. You wanted to ask her what happened, but you could see it on her face that she couldn’t handle that, right now. Her eyes were shiny and glazed over, and she looked like she was going to be sick. She looked like she could barely even breathe.

“What…? I don’t…”

You couldn’t get it out, feeling wholly numb as your gaze met Cleo’s. The dark-skinned girl ran her hands down her face, her own gaze tearful.

“They found him in the water, man.”

Her soft words made your heart sink, and you frowned.

“Said he got tangled up somehow… Drowned.”

At that, you did finally sit down, reaching out to hold the armrest. Somehow, any other cause of death would’ve made it feel less real, preposterous maybe. You just couldn’t see John B. dying at the hands of some asshole or choking on his food or run down like a dog in the street.

…but drowning?

John B. dying in the water—a place he loved and often frequented—made sense.

That you could believe.

“Pope and JJ are on the way,” Kie mumbled so low you almost didn’t hear her.

Nothing about any of this felt real. It was only yesterday that you were talking to John B., tossing a beer at his head after some slick remark. You couldn’t quite process that you’d never be able to do that again. Your best friend was gone. Sarah’s boyfriend was gone, and you wouldn’t see nor talk to him again. It didn’t make sense, and maybe that lack of reason was what kept you numb, kept you staring at the white floors of the hospital until two familiar figures made themselves known.

It wasn’t until your eyes lifted and met JJ’s did it really hit you.

The pain in his face from losing the friend he’d known practically since birth seeped into you too, and you were on your feet before JJ’s legs could fail him. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him tight for both of your sakes, and your tears finally spilled over when you felt JJ’s hitting your skin.

You never really saw JJ cry much—it just wasn’t like him. You didn’t know if that was just the way he was or if he took it upon himself to be the obligatory goofy friend who was almost always in a good mood. Today, however, JJ cried harder than you’d ever seen him, the death of his best friend a thousand times worse than anything Luke could do to him.

He held you like a lifeline, even well into the night when everyone was forced to retreat to their homes, nothing more anyone could do. Even if JJ could find some comfort in his own home, you wouldn’t dare ask him to, feeling that same refusal to be alone. You had only been able to shake your head at your mom when she came to see if you wanted—needed—anything.

You didn’t miss the way her sad and heavy gaze fell to JJ in your arms, the blond boy sobbing into your chest as you held him on your bed.

Neither of you talked for what felt like days. There really wasn’t much to say, anyway. On the off chance that JJ moved, it was purely to use the bathroom or eat something that would keep him off the brink of starvation. You couldn’t really tell if you were handling it better than him or if you were just coping in an equally unhealthy way.

There was just this understanding that grief had kind of taken both of your voices.

JJ leaned on you throughout the entirety of John B.’s funeral, and when your eyes met Pope’s, you shook your head at the silent question in his dark eyes. They flitted to JJ at that, and you weren’t surprised to see them holding each other at the end of the service. John B. was like a brother to both of them, and maybe they could help each other in ways the rest of you couldn’t.

“Why was he out there so late?”

That was what Kie wondered as you all sat at The Chateau, still fighting to understand your new reality without John B. only hours after his funeral.

“We all always go swimming whenever,” you told her, and she shook her head.

“…but never that late…and if so, never alone,” she argued, looking at all of you. “They think he died around one in the morning. There was no alcohol or anything in his system. Why would John B. be out there at one in the morning?”

“What does it matter?” JJ spat, making you flinch. “Why are we sitting here trying to analyze this when John B. is dead? Huh?”

Kie looked taken aback, and you could see her mentally reminding herself that JJ was in pain.

“I’m just saying-.”

“No, I know what you’re trying to do.”

The blond was standing, now, angrily staring down at her.

“Trying to make sense of this, trying to find something or someone to blame because that’s easier to swallow than the truth,” he nastily threw at her. “John B.’s death doesn’t make sense…and sometimes that’s just life.”

He stormed off before anyone could respond, and you swallowed at the sound of his bike starting up. You took Kie’s hand at the sight of her forlorn expression, gently squeezing it and sending her a smile. JJ was angry, probably angrier than any of you, and he wasn’t keen on how Kie was trying to deal with it either. The silence after he left was thick, and you felt almost afraid to speak your mind too, because now that Kie had said it, you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

It didn’t make sense for John B. to be out in the water that late.

You shouldn’t have been surprised when JJ kissed you only a few days after John B.’s funeral, but you were.

You all were grieving, and besides Sarah who hadn’t left her home in days, JJ wasn’t coping well. He was so angry and confused and hurt, and truthfully, you’d just been happy he wasn’t going off on some bender or starting fights. He didn’t exactly grow up with the best example on how to cope with anything, and so when he pressed his lips to yours on your front porch, you could only think that there were worse ways to handle this.

Your breathing was uneven as he ran his hands over you, backing you up into your house. Your parents weren’t home, adulthood stopping for no one in the midst of tragedy, and you held onto JJ to keep from tripping over your own feet. You’d wondered what it’d feel like to kiss JJ sometimes, but only ever in passing, and you could count the number of times on one hand. It was bound to happen at least once or twice when you were friends for as long as you had been.

The kiss was rough but not unenjoyable, and you moaned into his mouth when your back met your couch. To your surprise, you liked the feel of JJ’s body on yours, keeping you trapped between him and the couch, and the blond sighed into the kiss when your fingers ran up his back, dipping beneath his shirt. When his lips ghosted along your jaw, your gaze landed on the ceiling, and you arched your chest up into his. His lips were pressing open mouth kisses to your throat, and when your gaze roamed—landing on the window behind him—you violently flinched.

“What’s wrong-?”

JJ cut his own words off when you sat up, lips parted as you stared at the window.

It was dark, and the longer you stared outside, the sillier you felt. Your heart was racing so fast—much too fast—and for a moment, you were scared you were having a heart attack. You felt overheated, and your skin was fighting to get back to normal instead of clammy. JJ said your name again, and you merely shook your head at him, struggling to stop your hands from trembling and your vision from swaying.

For just a moment, you could’ve sworn that someone was outside and standing right outside of that window. It was brief, quite literally a ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ moment, but it wasn’t solely that that had you fighting to calm down, right now. You reached up, rubbing your chest and blinking back tears, hardly paying attention to JJ’s concern.

The way the person stood—their height, their build, their stance—it was all too familiar.

It looked eerily similar to your ex-boyfriend.

That thought had you standing, and you pressed your hand to your forehead. A few tears escaped without your consent, and you licked your lips, finally admitting to yourself why this whole John B. situation had you numb. The thought of John B. now had your chest aching, and for a brief moment, you weren’t seeing your best friend be lowered into the ground.

It was Rafe.

“Are you okay…?”

You finally acknowledged JJ, and you looked at him with a tearful gaze.

“No, I don’t think I am,” you choked out. “It’s not…it’s not your fault, I promise.”

“I shouldn’t have done that-.”

“No, JJ, it’s okay! You didn’t do anything wrong,” you assured him. “I’m just not handling this as well as I thought I was.”

He seemed to understand that, nodding at you.

The silence wasn’t tense or anything, but it was a little awkward. After all, one moment you and JJ were clearly about to have sex, and now, you couldn’t get rid of the cold chill that came over you. You glanced at the window again, so sure that you’d seen someone there, only looking away when JJ pulled you down to sit with him.

“You know I like you,” he whispered, making your eyes widen a bit. “Well, now you know.”

You blinked at him, oddly thinking that whatever this was tonight was some combination of grief and loneliness and the result of a violent confrontation with his own mortality. JJ ran his hand through his blond locks, sighing.

“First it was the whole Pogue on Pogue thing,” he said to which you snorted, recalling the day Pope and Cleo waltzed into The Chateau holding hands. “…then it was Rafe.”

You looked down at that, tightening your arms around yourself at the mention of your ex.

“Then Rafe went missing, and it didn’t seem right even though you didn’t seem…sad about it.”

You swallowed at that, a wet and muddy night coming to mind.

“…but now my best friend is dead, and I’m scared that if I wait another minute, it’ll be too late.”

Your gaze softened at that, looking at him, and it really didn’t take you long to realize that deep down you’d liked JJ too. You first noticed the feeling after the third or fourth time Rafe had hit you, and you just remembered thinking that JJ would never. You hadn’t lingered on it, but now you were wishing you had. Maybe if you felt like you had a way out, you would’ve left Rafe sooner. The relationship might not have continued.

…and that night never would’ve happened.

With the death of John B., you understood exactly what JJ meant. John B. hadn’t been some old man pushing ninety who lived this long and fulfilling life. He was eighteen, unable to even get the chance to start. It was unexpected and heartbreaking but most of all scary, so when you took the blonde’s hand, you didn’t hesitate to pull him closer, pressing your lips to his.

You had no idea that while taking the first step with JJ into the second relationship you’d ever have, Pope’s body was being dumped in the water.

When you all collectively made the decision the next morning to go and see Sarah, no one thought too much of it when Pope didn’t answer. Sarah was allowed her solitude to grieve, you felt she was owed that, but none of you wanted your friend to deal with this alone for too long. Considering how early it was, everyone just assumed that he was still asleep when you decided to meet up.

JJ—now in the possession of the Twinkie—made the decision to slow down at the sight of so many squad cars near the water. It was strange, and there was a sinking feeling in your stomach that you just couldn’t shake. Outer Banks was not without its fair share of crime, but you’d never had the misfortune of witnessing a coroner’s van pull up to the scene.

“What do you think that’s about?” Cleo wondered.

You spoke without thinking.

“Call Pope again.”

You could feel several pairs of eyes on you as you looked out of the window, and there was a beat of silence before they all reached for their phones at once. That twisted feeling only tightened when none of them got an answer. You didn’t voice your thoughts, partly because you didn’t want to be the one to, but you also didn’t want to make them true, somehow.

…but they were true whether you said them aloud or not.

You’d never been inside of an interrogation room—or Kildare County’s version of one, anyway. You never thought you would be, but in this moment, you were thinking of a lot of things you never thought would be. Shoupe—a man you’d grown used to seeing all your life—handed you a cup of water, and your fingertips only grazed it as it sat on the table.

With the discovery that Pope was now dead too, the numbness you’d felt was forced to crack and shatter. While Cleo had to be restrained and held back from ambushing the crime scene, you’d been unable to keep upright, collapsing right there on the side of the road. The entire gruesome debacle had attracted a crowd. After all, Outer Banks just wasn’t used to this, and several people tried to help you remain conscious—namely JJ.

You didn’t even remember breaking down, didn’t even remember being approached by the cops. You actually could barely remember a thing after witnessing a familiar body being pulled from the murky water. You knew that you cried, had to, because your eyes were tight. You knew that you screamed because your throat was raw. You knew these things because of how you felt…not because you actually remembered any of it.

Shoupe’s sigh made you blink, and instead of laying on the side of that road, you were surrounded by four walls.

“Do you know of…anyone who’d want to hurt Heyward’s son?”

His words gave you pause, and you lifted your gaze with a deep frown.

“…what?” you choked out after some time.

His gaze was soft—Pope was your friend and he’d watched you both grow up as thick as thieves—but also inquiring. You watched him briefly lick his lips, sighing to himself as he pressed a hand to his forehead. He seemed to be conflicted, having some kind of internal battle before reaching out to you across the table.

“Pope was dead before he was in the water.”

You merely blinked at him, not quite processing his words.

“Someone…someone cut his throat.”

At that, your vision blurred, and you could see on Shoupe’s face that he was predicting what was about to happen before you even tried to stand. The older man reached for you again, attempting to keep you from falling, but your feet tripped over one another as your legs lost their strength. When your knees hit the hard floor, your brain didn’t even register the pain.

Burying two friends within two weeks of each other was something you would’ve never predicted. Not until you were in your seventies, at least. It felt like the opposite of unreal. It felt too real because all you could feel was pain. It was numbing and excruciating all at once somehow, and having the whole town look at you like some walking magnet for tragedy didn’t help.

In truth, all of your friends got the stares. Two out of the group were gone—one drowned and one brutally murdered—and people looked at the rest of your friends like they didn’t know what to think of them…but you? Oh, they looked at you like they both feared and hated you, and you knew why.

It was only a year ago that your boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—had gone missing, and now two of your friends met the same fate everyone suspected Rafe did. There was something in their eyes that held blame, and you might have found it funny if you weren’t so angry and sad and miserable.

You were only responsible for one of them.

“No fingerprints, no footprints, no nothing,” Kie whispered, angrily. “It’s like Pope was just killed and dumped by a ghost.”

JJ was silent as he stared out into the rich girl’s yard, and you worriedly eyed him. Cleo too. It’s not like any of you were doing okay, but JJ had lost the two people he was closest to in the world, and Cleo was now in the same boat as Sarah. It was then that the blonde girl shifted, a noise leaving her throat that had you all looking over.

“Do I have to be the one to say what we’re all thinking?”

She looked between you all with a heavy gaze, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth.

“That John B.’s accident wasn’t an accident…?”

Your lips parted at that, and you looked around to see that no one else had expected that either. No one else but Kie who simply wrapped her arms around herself. You recalled her words from last week, how she’d questioned why John B. was even out on the water that late. JJ had been so quick to shut it down, and despite having the same question as Kie, you’d also forced yourself to let it go.

You hadn’t wanted to fathom that someone had killed John B.

“Now, hold on-.”

“Oh, come on, JJ!” Sarah cried. “John B. drowns at one something in the morning, and a week later one of his best friends is murdered?”

You swallowed, hating this conversation.

“This is too coincidental,” she whispered, wiping her face.

The silence was loud as her accusation—and the implications that came with it—just hung in the air. You all looked between each other, and you could see it then. It was sinking in that this was too much of a coincidence, and Cleo spoke up.

“Why would anyone want to hurt them?”

“I think you mean why would anyone want to hurt us,” Kie threw out, and you all froze. “If someone did kill John B. and that same person killed Pope…isn’t it safe to assume they’re working their way through the group?”

You stood, really hating this conversation now, and stared out into the yard.

“I mean, what? Only John B. and Pope happened to piss this person off?”

“That’s even if what you’re saying is true,” JJ argued, visibly disturbed, now. “I mean, think about this. Who the hell did all of us piss off this damn bad? Huh? That doesn’t make any sense.”

It was then that your gaze met Cleo’s, and something passed through her eyes that you also knew passed through yours. You didn’t have to be a mind reader to know that the other girl was thinking about that night, recalling a bloodstained carpet and shovels that would never see the light of day. Your lips parted as your gaze lowered, and feeling like you might be sick, you sat down. No. There was nothing you could think of that all of you had done to collectively anger someone this much. However, there was something that came to mind that four of you had done.

…but Rafe was dead.

He’d been dead for a year, and so what Cleo was obviously thinking was clearly not possible.

Even with that fact, it still didn’t prevent you from being terrified, and it was no surprise that none of you wanted to be alone. Even if John B.’s accident was just that, someone had still killed Pope, and Outer Banks now had a murderer in their midst. If people looked at you with disdain before, then it was nothing in comparison to when a curfew was enforced.

“First it was Rafe…”

You tensed at the sound of the voice.

“…then John B. and now Pope.”

You cut your eyes to Kelce as he walked by you.

“We don’t need a curfew. What we need is to search your damn house,” he sneered, turning his back to you as he strode away.

You crossed your arms over your chest as you waited for Sarah to exit the shop. You knew that Kelce wasn’t alone in his sentiment. It was only just the day before when your eyes had met Topper’s, the blonde’s gaze unreadable despite the clenching of his jaw. Topper was never the kind of guy to evoke intimidation, but that was before he thought you had something to do with the disappearance of his best friend.

When Rafe went missing, you were questioned. It was expected. After all, you weren’t just his girlfriend but also the girlfriend who everyone knew he would literally get crazy about. Your rocky off-and-on relationship was no secret, so naturally you were the first to be brought in. The police hadn’t been able to find anything though, not then and not for the past year, so any suspicions anyone might’ve had were probably long forgotten about.

Until now.

The only difference was that now not only did they think you killed Rafe, but also your best friends.

“They’re assholes. You know that,” Sarah told you as she drove you back to her place.

The Cameron household was where you’d been staying when you weren’t at home with JJ. Ever since that night, something in you felt wrong about accepting the Cameron’s hospitality and even setting foot into their house. That night was complicated, this much was true, but the fact remained that you were responsible for their pain. Ward would never be reunited with his son because of you.

Smiling in their faces and eating at their table left a sour feeling in your gut.

“…but I did kill Rafe,” you whispered.

Sarah glanced at you at that.

“We all did,” she finally said. “…and it wasn’t like that. He was choking you, he was…he was killing you. It was self-defense.”

“Yeah, I’m sure the cops will think rolling him up and burying him in the woods was self-defense,” you scoffed.

Sarah was parked in her yard, now, and she gripped your arm. Her expression was hard as she stared at you, lips pressed together.

“Stop that,” she bit out. “Rafe… Rafe wasn’t going to stop. We had no choice, and do I sometimes wish things had ended differently for him and for us? Yeah. Even the most estranged of siblings don’t actually want to kill each other, but what’s done is done.”

She looked between your eyes, and you swallowed, recalling that silent conversation with Cleo. You licked your lips, touching your forehead and swallowing down a sigh.

“What if it’s not done?” you wondered, almost inaudibly.

When you looked at Sarah again, there was a frown on her face.

“We definitely know of someone who’d want us dead,” you whispered, and you watched the color drain from Sarah’s face.

“…and he’s dead.”

“…but what if he’s not?” you choked out. “What if…? I mean, sure, there was blood and we hit him twice and we buried him, but what if-.”

“Stop,” Sarah breathed, resting her hands on the wheel. “Stop talking.”

“Sarah-.”

“I said stop!”

The blonde girl looked visibly distressed, eyes wide and lips trembling as she stared ahead.

“We killed him. He’s dead…and he can’t hurt you or anyone else ever again.”

Sarah sounded more like she was trying to convince herself than you. You could see how upsetting this conversation was for her, and again, you wished that night had gone differently. Getting your friends caught up in your relationship problems was your biggest regret, and no matter how many times they insisted they’d never take it back, it did nothing to ease your guilt.

Repeating Sarah’s words in your mind, you put thoughts of Rafe behind you.

You were having a horrifying case of déjà vu.

Around this time a year ago, you were also out in the middle of the woods at night, repeatedly stabbing at the dirt with a shovel. It had just rained then, and the ground had been wet—soft. You’d been less calm then, but also somehow less terrified than you were, now. A year ago, it had been four of you digging a hole.

Tonight, it was three.

Sticking together was the plan. Even if you didn’t collectively agree on it, there was the thought in all of your minds that someone was after you. Even JJ, who was in denial, didn’t turn down Sarah’s offer to sleep over at her place. Any other time where Rose and Ward would’ve vehemently opposed several Pogues taking up residence in their house, they were now a lot more welcoming.

Any doubt that you were being hunted like animals was nowhere to be found the night you discovered Cleo’s body.

The four of you were sleeping in Sarah’s room—JJ in the guest room right next door—when you heard the faintest thump. It seemed like forever ago, but in the night, it was oddly reminiscent of the day of Rose’s fall festivity or whatever—before John B. died. You recalled the noise you’d heard that day, your open window, and where you had written both of those things off, you now looked back in fear.

You’d sat up, rubbing your eyes and looking around. Noticing Cleo’s absence, you told yourself that she was getting something to drink or going to the bathroom. However, your effort to lay back down was halted when you heard it again—a faint thump from downstairs that made your hair stand on end for some reason. Glancing at your remaining best friends, you pushed yourself to your feet.

“Cleo?”

Your kept your voice low as you stood at the top of the stairs, not wanting to unnecessarily wake the whole house. Only silence met you, and you frowned. The stillness of the house felt heavy, suffocating, and it unnerved you. It was just moments ago that it wasn’t so silent, and you walked back to Sarah’s room.

Glancing inside, there was still no sign of Cleo, and facing the fact that she wasn’t in the bathroom, you made your way downstairs.

The whole house was dark, and telling yourself that a light would be on if she was in the kitchen, you flipped the switch. An empty kitchen met you, as you expected, and your frown deepened. Walking back to the staircase, you looked up, a heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach as you climbed them. There were only so many places that she could be, and wondering if you’d missed her somehow, you checked all of the bathrooms. She wasn’t back in Sarah’s room either.

As you stood in the hallway, the complete darkness made you freeze.

It didn’t register, at first, and you stood there wracking your brain. Goosebumps completely covered your skin, now, and as you stared ahead, something in the back of your mind was screaming at you—sending off alarm bells. Something about this picture wasn’t right, and once it clicked, your heart sank to your gut.

There was no light coming from downstairs.

The kitchen light was now off.

Stumbling into Sarah’s room, you shook her and Kie awake.

“What, what?” the tan girl mumbled, Sarah’s huff coming from behind you.

“Something’s wrong,” you said, words tumbling over each other. “I can’t find Cleo.”

Both of them were wide awake, now, and Kie was frowning at you when Sarah turned her light on.

“What…?” she asked, disbelieving.

You tried to keep calm.

“I heard something, and I saw Cleo was gone, but she’s not in the bathroom, and she’s not downstairs,” you rushed out.

Sarah was still for half a second before she ran out of the room. While Kie went with her, you took it upon yourself to wake JJ, and once past his confusion, he was right on your heels as you made your way downstairs too. Kie was looking out the windows while Sarah searched each room.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” JJ said. “Don’t you guys have some alarm code or something? It’s not like she could’ve left without waking the whole house.”

JJ was right.

“So, what? You’re saying she’s still in the house? Hiding and playing some sick joke?” Sarah wondered, visibly stressed and scared. “That’s insane.”

You wondered if you should speak up about the kitchen light, about how someone had blatantly turned it off when you went upstairs. That car conversation with Sarah was on your mind, and your vision swam for a bit as you fought to keep upright. It might not be Cleo, but someone was definitely playing some sick joke.

“I’m going to wake my dad,” Sarah breathed. “This…this isn’t right.”

As she made to go upstairs, you slowly made your way to the back door. You stared out of the windows, scanning the yard for anything that might make sense of all this. The yard was empty, and you could hear JJ and Kie behind you as they talked and tried to make sense of what was going on. Too busy scanning the trees and what you could see of the neighbors, your gaze was focused much too high.

When you saw her, you wanted to be sick.

“Oh my God,” you choked out. “Oh my God, oh my God!”

You were scrambling to unlock the door before JJ or Kie could question you, and the house alarm was loud as you threw the door open. The grass was dewy and slippery, and you quite literally fell a few times before you reached her. You collapsed right next to her, and Kie’s scream was even louder than yours once she fully registered what she was seeing.

Your arms shook as you held Cleo’s broken body, and if it wasn’t for the fact that you were too busy trying not to choke on your own sobs, you might’ve been screaming too. You could feel JJ’s hands on your shoulders as he tried to get you to let her go, but you felt possessed.

You couldn’t not hold her.

By now the rest of the household was outside too, and you could hear Rose on the phone, frantic and horrified. Mr. Cameron’s voice was in your ear as he too tried to get you to let her go. You couldn’t understand why. It wasn’t like you were hurting her any more—she was dead. Any hope for otherwise died the moment your wide eyes met her equally wide ones, dark gaze focused on the sky above. You felt like the least you could do was hold her—some kind of apology for not finding her sooner.

You were only convinced when the police showed up, Shoupe practically begging you to.

“We have to take her, now,” he said to you, his eyes meeting yours. “We have to do right by her and try and figure out what happened. You want that, don’t you?”

You remembered just staring at him, lips parted and chest heavy, before finally letting her go. JJ was quick to pull you beside him, his own hands trembling as he held you close. You knew that it was partly for you and partly for him. You completely leaned on him, feeling like you were moments away from fainting.

Especially so when you glanced up…your eyes landing on the open window of the second-floor bathroom.

You weren’t surprised the next day when you were face to face with Shoupe again and he said:

“She broke her neck.”

That wasn’t news to you. You found her…you held her, after all. You saw what she looked like, so his words were expected. His next, however, were not.

“Now, that could’ve happened when she fell…or it could’ve happened before.”

Your gaze lifted then, watching the older man heave a sigh and lean in closer across the table. His gaze was completely serious, lips pressed together and jaw clenched. He clasped his hands together as he regarded you.

“Now…I asked you this before when we pulled Pope out of that water…”

You swallowed.

“…and you gave me your answer then, and I believed you, but now I’m asking again.”

Tears kissed your eyes.

“…and depending on how you answer, I may not believe you this time.”

Dark blond hair and blue eyes filled your vision, a smooth and almost raspy baritone bouncing around between your ears. For just a moment, you weren’t in that room face to face with Shoupe. You were one year younger and rolling a lithe frame up in a bloody carpet. You and three other girls were carrying it to a familiar truck, determined to bury it where no one would ever find it. Even before Shoupe asked his question, that was all you could see.

…and yet, when he asked if you knew of anyone who’d want to hurt you and your friends, you still told him no.

That was two weeks ago, and now you were back in the woods…in a familiar spot…hoping to dig up a familiar face.

“This is insane, you know that, right?” Sarah spat, huffing as she stabbed at the dirt again.

“Look around!” Kie yelled, her voice bouncing off of the trees. “Three of our friends are dead! They’re dead, and you know what? When the cops asked if I knew of anyone who’d want to hurt them, I almost told them Rafe.”

You and Sarah paused at that, staring at her.

“Can you believe that? That sounds crazy, right because Rafe is dead, and..” she threw her arm up. “I would know!”

She was breathing hard, fighting to keep it together.

“…but Cleo was pushed. We all know that she didn’t fall. She was pushed, shoved, thrown, however you want to call it! Her neck was broken…and you all can say that it happened when she hit the ground, but I just don’t believe that.”

“Unless you’re saying one of us did it…” Sarah shrugged. “Someone would have to know the alarm code to not only turn it off, open the window, and toss her out…but also turn it back on as soon as they did it.”

“Sound like anyone we know?” Kie sarcastically wondered, pointedly looking at the ground beneath them.

There was a brief pause between you three as the horrifying possibility set in. Sarah was right. The requirements to pull something like that off fell to any of you, and you knew for a fact that none of you would ever, and so that was where Kie’s suspicions came in. Determined to face the truth one way or another, you continued to dig.

It felt so silly, attempting to dig up a man you’d most assuredly killed. You still had nightmares some nights about the feel of Rafe wrapping both hands around your neck, squeezing so tight that you were sure your neck would snap at any moment. Even when Sarah and Cleo had walked in, shocked and horrified at the sight before them, he hadn’t stopped.

He’d only been focused on killing you.

As you dug, you could remember their screams and the sound of them hitting him and trying to get him off. Nothing had worked, even when Kie came in, attempting to jump on his back. You didn’t know if it was the coke or alcohol that night that made him so determined to kill you regardless of witnesses. Either way, for your sake, you needed Rafe to be in this grave.

You could handle a lot of things, but you couldn’t handle Rafe still being out there.

“I don’t think we have the right spot,” Kie finally said after some time.

You yourself had briefly thought the same, but you remembered that night like the back of your hand. This was the right spot, and the longer you kept being greeted with dirt and more dirt, you could feel an internal panic setting in. Sarah stopped digging after Kie, but you kept going. You had to…because he had to be here.

“Y/N…”

“He’s here,” you breathed. “He has to be.”

Right now, there was only the sound of you frantically digging, and you hadn’t even realized you’d started crying until a sob bubbled up in your chest. You could hear Sarah calling your name again, but you paid her no mind, tossing the shovel aside and falling to your knees. You clawed at the dirt, looking for any sign of bone or clothing or even the damn rug!

“Y/N-,”

“No,” you screamed, throat hurting. “He has to be here, he has to be here.”

You felt like you were going to throw up, nails chipping and breaking as they only came in contact with dirt and sticks and rocks. Hitting your fist against the ground, you screamed again, this one dying into a fit of sobs. You felt Kie’s hands on your shoulders, and you struggled to breathe.

“This can’t be happening,” you heard Sarah breathe.

You pressed your face into your dirty hands, inconsolable as you were forced to face the truth.

“This doesn’t mean he’s alive,” Kie whispered. “Someone…someone else could know. I don’t know how, but it could be anyone else doing this, somebody who dug him up and is messing with us.”

“Or it could be Rafe!”

Your vision was blurry as you looked at her.

“It could be Rafe who wasn’t actually dead when we buried him. It could be Rafe killing my friends and torturing me and coming back to finish what he started!”

You pressed your forehead against the dirt, hunched over as the most awful wailing noise left you. You felt insane, like nothing in the world made sense, and you could hardly stand when Kie pulled you to your feet. If Rafe was still alive…your life as you knew it was over. You struggled to walk as Sarah put the shovels in the trunk, and when she closed it, she just stood there, hand pressed to the top with the other on her hip.

“So, what do we do? Do we go to the police and tell them that Rafe is doing this?”

“…and when they ask why?” Kie wondered, holding you upright. “What do we say? Y/N didn’t want to be with him anymore, so he ran off and came back a year later to kill her and her friends?”

You completely sank against the car, forehead pressed to the vehicle.

“…or better yet, what happens when we tell them we think Rafe is behind this only for his body to turn up? If everyone isn’t suspicious of us now—and they’re pretty fucking suspicious—they’ll definitely be then.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled after some time, continuing when you felt their gazes on you. “I’m so sorry.”

“What-?”

“This is my fault,” you choked out, forcing yourself to straighten. “I should’ve left him the first time he hurt me. I should’ve…should’ve told someone, I should have called the police.”

“Y/N, this isn’t your fault,” Sarah argued.

“Yes, it is,” you cried, attempting to wipe your face and only succeeding in putting more dirt on it. “You hit him to get him off of me, but… I didn’t have to hit him again. I didn’t have to do that. He was already passing out, and I could’ve just called the cops and-.”

“…and deal with Rafe again when he was inevitably released?” Kie threw out. “Look, Sarah, your family is okay and all, but let’s face it. Rafe would not have stayed in jail long, if at all with Ward backing him up with his money.”

Neither of you argued against that, and your gaze found the ground.

“We need to get back,” Sarah said in a small voice. “It’s way past curfew, and if someone catches us out here, we’ll be even bigger suspects than we already are.”

Sarah was right, and when it became apparent that you needed help moving your feet, she guided you to the passenger side. Kie settled in the backseat, and all of you were quiet, minds no doubt occupied with the possibilities of what tonight meant. Either Rafe wasn’t dead…or someone knew what you did and was getting even on his behalf.

When Sarah turned the car on, the lights shined into the trees before you. You lifted your head, gaze landing in front of the car, and your lips parted. You blinked at the trees, eyes narrowing when Sarah turned on her brights, putting the car in reverse. There’d been a split moment when Sarah’s lights came on—and your gaze wasn’t lifted all the way—that you thought you saw something next to one of the trees.

It looked like a person, standing and watching, but they were gone so quickly that you knew you had to have imagined it. The discovery of Rafe’s empty grave was getting to you, and you wrapped your arms around yourself. It seemed farfetched that Rafe hadn’t actually been dead that night. Murder weapons and such aside, you’d buried him, and how likely was it that he’d woken up to claw his way out instead of simply suffocating and bleeding to death?

It made more sense that this was someone else’s doing, but even still…

Despite burying him yourself, you never felt like Rafe was truly gone.

With three of your friends dead, the remaining four of you were not only being watched like hawks, but also refused to barely leave each other’s sides. Despite the fact that the police still couldn’t determine if Cleo’s death was murder or an accident, the popular opinion seemed to be the former. Walking through Outer Banks as everyone’s main suspect made a place that used to feel like home unbearable.

Deep down though, some part of you felt you deserved it.

Yes, Rafe was abusive and horrible, but it wasn’t up to you to play God. It wasn’t your place to determine whether or not he deserved to live, deserved to see his family again or redeem himself or go on to be even worse. That wasn’t your call, and despite how much relief you felt when you buried Rafe that night, something in you wanted to be punished for what you’d done.

…but not like this.

You never wanted this to come back on your friends and their family. Looking in the faces of their parents and now knowing this was all directly because of you was heartbreaking. Even if it wasn’t Rafe stalking the streets of Outer Banks and picking your friends off one by one, it was clearly someone doing so for him in some weird way. This all came back to Rafe, you just knew it.

…and they were trying to mess with your head in the process.

What else would they get out of moving his remains?

Considering what happened at Sarah’s house, it came as no surprise that the next spot of choice was Kie’s. It wasn’t without difficulty, and you recalled the way both of her parents huffed and puffed as she fought to convince them. You didn’t disagree with their reasoning. After all, you didn’t need to be a genius to know they were wary of you on some level. Too many people around you had died and gone missing.

They just didn’t want the same for Kie…and you wished you’d listened.

“We could leave,” JJ said to you in one of the Carrera’s guest rooms, hand clasped with yours. “I didn’t really want to believe it before but…”

JJ heaved a sigh.

“Someone’s after us for some reason,” he relented. “…and since we have no idea who or even why… Why not just take off?”

He shrugged at you, and guilt ate at you for a whole other reason these days. After Cleo’s death—and the traumatic night in which you discovered Rafe’s grave was empty—you grappled with the thought of telling JJ the truth. He deserved to know why his friends were dead, and why he had a target on his back. You even started to one day.

…but then you thought about him knowing this was all your fault…and blaming you too. You didn’t think you had the stomach or the strength to look him in the face and tell him that your actions that night came back on half of your friends. You didn’t want to face his reaction, and so you swallowed it down.

“I would if I could,” you told him. “…but aside from just how fucking guilty that would make me and us look…my parents are here. Even if they weren’t and we left, I don’t think that would make this stop. Sarah’s here, Kie is here, and whoever is doing this clearly wants all of our heads. They’re not going to give up just because some of us leave.”

You couldn’t stomach the thought of just taking off and leaving Kie and Sarah to fend for themselves. JJ nodded at that, understanding, and you closed your eyes when he reached for your face. You placed your own hand over his, and something clenched deep in your chest. It was so unfair that the moment you and JJ finally decided to stop being cowards, someone put a bounty on your heads.

Even if you made it out of this alive, how could you ever look back on the beginning of your relationship with anything other than grief and trauma? The two of you got together because of John B.’s death and any attempt to try and heal and make something good of this was ruined by the subsequent deaths of Pope and Cleo.

“Do you think this has something to do with Rafe?”

JJ’s question gave you pause, and you pulled back, staring at him with a frown. His expression was entirely serious, telling you that you had not in fact imagined his words. When you blinked at him, you watched him run his hand through his blond locks, the fair hair still damp from his shower.

“I know you killed him,” he confessed.

Your lips parted in shock, and you fought to make sense of what was happening. Disbelieving, you pushed yourself to your feet, looking down at your boyfriend. His gaze was soft, and you watched him exhale, slowly reaching for you.

“Wha…? What do you mean you know? What are-?”

“I overheard you guys talking about it…what…? Maybe three months after it happened?”

You looked away, slowly shaking your head. When you looked at him, there was no malice or disgust in his gaze, and you felt confused.

“I never said anything because I figured you wouldn’t like anyone else knowing,” he whispered.

JJ didn’t look bothered at all, and for some reason that threw you for a loop. Once his hand was back in yours, he tugged you until you sat down with him again. He took your moment of shock to lean in and kiss you—slow and gentle, and his thumb brushed your skin as he pulled away.

“I know what you’re thinking…”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone,” you wondered, more of a statement, voicing your thoughts and confirming his assumption.

“…because Rafe was horrible to you, and not in that generic asshole boyfriend way, but…really horrible,” he told you. “The way he talked to you and treated you in public was disguising to witness, so it wasn’t hard to guess how much worse he was behind closed doors.”

You felt yourself deflating, hating that JJ had to come to grips with that terrifying truth.

“You don’t know how bad I hated him for treating you like that, how much I wanted to beg you to leave him, but you wouldn’t,” he spat, anger in his voice as he thought about the past. “You wouldn’t even come to any of us, and I just thought it wasn’t my place.”

You hadn’t realized how much of your tumultuous relationship with Rafe had been bleeding into other parts of your life almost since the beginning.

“I started to lose my mind over it, you know…just wondering if I was bad for not telling or bad for thinking about telling, but…”

He let out a humorless chuckle, pulling his lip between his teeth.

“Plenty of times I thought about killing Rafe myself, so why would I hate you for having the balls to do what I could only fantasize about?”

You held JJ’s gaze, feeling shocked but also oh so light. You felt relieved that JJ knew, and you’d no longer have to carry around this guilt, but at the same time… You hated that JJ had been carrying this around for months—almost a year. Unlike you and the girls, JJ didn’t have anyone to talk to about this, forced to carry the burden of your secret alone…and you hated that. You hated yourself for that.

Your eyes burned with tears, and you just pressed your lips to his when a blood-curdling scream made you wince.

You and JJ looked at each other for half a second before he hurried out of the room with you right behind him. The screams didn’t stop, echoing throughout the house and mixing in with harsh sobs. There was a knot twisting in your gut, a feeling of dread washing over you like a cold shower. You and JJ took the stairs almost two at a time, and when you both made it to the living room, you paused in your tracks.

Kie had her hands over her mouth, but it was useless—she couldn’t stop screaming and crying. Sarah stood by the couch, frozen in shock, and you didn’t miss what her wide and stricken eyes were focused on. Mr. and Mrs. Carrera were sitting on the couch, facing the blasting TV as they had been for God knows how long. However, something about their posture was off, and when you slowly brushed by JJ to join Sarah…you realized why.

Blood covered the entire front of them both, eyes open and unseeing, mouths open in mid-scream.

Their throats were slit.

Before the horror of what this meant could even settle in, the power in the house went out, bathing you in darkness. The lights from the neighbors and the street were not enough, and you heard Sarah telling Kie to get up. JJ’s hand was on your arm as he pulled you along too, all four of you heading for the door.

Sarah only just opened it when you heard her let out a choked gasp.

She was still, and you worriedly eyed her.

“Sarah?” JJ called her name. “Sarah, what’s…?”

He trailed off, his words dying in the air as Sarah stumbled back. She fell against Kie, and the other girl fought to catch her as the blonde reached up towards her chest. With what little light you had, your eyes focused on what she was gesturing to. Your entire vision swayed once you saw the knife protruding from it.

“Oh my God,” you breathed, and JJ yanked you back away from the door.

You in turn yanked Kie who was forced to let Sarah go. The sound of her body dropping made you wince. Unable to stay with her, the three of you now headed towards the back door. Behind you, you could hear the front door slamming shut, and the sound of it had bile rising in your throat.

The house was still dark, and besides your own heavy breathing, you heard the sound of footsteps coming from the living room. You were the first to make it to the door, hand on the knob when you heard the last thing you ever expected for some reason. The glass in front of you shattered, but your ears were ringing from the gunshot more than anything.

“Fuck,” you heard JJ curse, and you felt him wrap his arms around you, pulling you to the side.

You didn’t realize why until you looked back.

Kie was in a heap at the foot of the door, her blood decorating the remaining glass in the window and the floor too. She was completely still, and the knowledge that two more of your friends were dead within just minutes of each other had you ready to faint. Despite that, with JJ’s help, you were able to keep your feet moving.

He pulled you into the hallway that connected to the kitchen, and on the other side of the wall, you could hear the slow and heavy footsteps. When the crunch of glass was heard, JJ pulled you further along towards the kitchen—towards the front of the house. You were shaking as you slid along the wall, and when the footsteps stopped, so did JJ.

You both were completely still as you waited and listened. Both of your phones were upstairs in the guest room, but you recalled Sarah reaching for hers when she opened the door. It had to still be near her, provided that whoever was in the house hadn’t taken it. JJ seemed to have the same idea as you, because he slowly moved through the kitchen and towards the front door.

A gunshot stopped his efforts.

“Go, go,” JJ hissed, pushing you away from him so harshly that you stumbled and fell back.

You were half in the kitchen half in the hallway when a figure approached the blond who was now also on the floor, clutching his side. You frantically crawled back, vision blurring from your tears just as they stood over him. Your back was pressed to the wall, staring at the one before you with quiet sobs when you heard it.

JJ’s gasps were loud and pained as he was attacked. One, two…seventeen, you counted. You thought to yourself how angry and evil someone has to be to stab someone else seventeen times. You kept your hand pressed to your mouth the entire time, fighting the urge to be sick. When you could no longer hear JJ, you squeezed your eyes shut.

A defeated feeling washed over you, and it was the feeling of being utterly alone.

You could hear those terrifying footsteps again, and when it sounded like they were coming near you from the other side, you sprinted for the door.

Refusing to look at the bodies of your friends, you fought to run across the street. The neighbor’s lights were on, and your legs burned as you pushed yourself as fast as you could. You refused to look back—too scared to—and you practically collapsed at their door as you banged on it. Some of Kie’s blood was on you, and it marred the door as you repeatedly hit it like a woman possessed.

“Open the door, please, please,” you screamed, looking over your shoulder.

You couldn’t see anyone, but you weren’t fooled. Adrenaline was the only thing keeping you from completely collapsing on this stranger’s porch. You were beating their door so hard that your fists were beginning to ache, and your throat scratched from your screams—strained and raw. When the door finally swung open, you quite literally fell inside.

“What in the world-? Oh my goodness,” a small voice said from over you.

Small and brittle hands helped you to your feet, and you felt bad at almost knocking her over in your efforts to make sure no one was behind you. You slammed the door shut and locked it, chest heaving and feeling much too tight. You were sure that you were almost on the verge of a heart attack. You had to be.

“Sweetheart,” the old lady called. “Call the police!”

She took your hands, guiding you to the kitchen where she grabbed a rag.

“He killed them,” you sobbed, struggling to breathe. “My friends are dead.”

The words didn’t even sound real to you, like some nightmare you’d conjured up, but they were real. Your friends had been picked off one by one for weeks before the rest were finally taken from you in one night. You were alone, and that fact made you cry harder.

“The phone’s not working,” you heard another aged voice say.

You froze at that, looking up just as the woman wobbled to the kitchen entrance.

“What?” you breathed.

“What do you mean it’s not working?” she tutted, and you were quick to follow behind her.

She met up with a man who you assumed was her husband in the hallway, and he did a double take at the sight of you.

“Good lord,” he breathed. “What happened?”

“Never mind that,” she dismissed him, making her way past him. “My granddaughter bought me one of those smart phones, but I hardly ever use the thing. We’ll find that and then we’ll call the police, sweetheart.”

You didn’t want to let her out of your sight, terrified of being alone, but the elderly man reminded you of his presence. He guided you back into the kitchen with a strained but kind smile. You could tell that your presence worried him. You were in his house in the middle of the night covered in blood, after all.

“Thank you,” you managed to mumble when he handed you the damp rag.

The feel of Kie’s blood on you was both comforting and horrifying. Your friend wasn’t with you, but this small part of her was, but at the same time, it only reminded you of her gruesome and tragic death. The woman came back through the hallway, joining her husband in the living room, and you heard her mumbling something about hoping the cops would come quick when there was a knock on the door.

The sound of it made your stomach drop, and you stood in the kitchen, rag tight in your hand. What were the chances they’d be getting some friendly visit at this time of night? Right after all your friends were brutally murdered, and you were forced to seek refuge at this very house?

You’d only taken one step forward when you heard the door open, followed by a startled gasp. It happened quick, too quick for you to even process, and it wasn’t long before you could hear the woman’s husband yelping too, a loud thud reaching your ears. Before today, you didn’t know what it sounded like to stab someone or cut their throat. You stumbled back, eyes wide and heart so loud in your ears that it was all you could hear for a moment.

You felt so cold, and you had the shivers to prove it, and slowly but surely…you reached for the knife in the sink.

The house was so quiet, and you didn’t hear a single breath or footstep. Taking a hesitant step forward, you held the knife out in front of you, briefly squeezing your eyes shut. Stepping into the living room, you weren’t surprised to see the bodies of the poor couple who’d just tried to help you. Blood stretched from beneath them like a stream. You pressed your free hand to your mouth, swallowing down a sob.

You were surprised, however, to see an empty living room.

Your brain was completely empty, feeling like you were short-circuiting. You were being toyed with, that much was obvious, and your lips trembled as you slowly spun, fighting to see any sign of your tormentor. Slowly kneeling, you looked for the woman’s cellphone, and you had to swallow down a curse when you realized it was gone.

You stood in the living room, feeling like you were losing your mind with no idea of what to do next. You could run back across the street to Kie’s where you knew a phone was…or you could try another neighbor. A last resort of an option flitted through your mind, anger briefly filling you as you considered simply killing the person who did this.

The front porch creaked, and your gaze zeroed in on the door.

Backing up, you moved further into the house and further away from the door. You glanced over your shoulder, arm grazing the wall as you hid in the hallway. You could hear the door opening just as you disappeared around the corner, and as you slowly and quietly moved about the back of the house, you wanted to cry with the realization that they had no back door.

The house was so modest and quaint that you hadn’t even considered that possibility.

Tears of frustration and fear skipped down your face just as the upbeat tune of a whistle reached your ears. You didn’t know why, but something about it made you so angry. You were being played with, like a damn mouse in the grasp of some cat. How this person could snuff out life like it was nothing and be so giddy about it, you didn’t know. It disgusted you.

…and so the knife was tight in your hand as you stomped back towards the living room.

There was no doubt in your mind that you were going to die tonight, and you’d rather it be fighting and on your terms. The lifeless faces of your friends were all that plagued your thoughts, one after the other being taken from you so easily. As if they were nothing. You thought you were prepared for the person you’d grown to hate most in the world.

…but you weren’t prepared for the sight of Barry sprawled along the couch without a care in the world.

You actually came up short, stopping in your tracks in both shock and disbelief. You felt your lips part, and your hold on the knife wasn’t so firm, now, almost dropping it. A myriad of emotions hit you at once, none of them good, but the loudest and most prominent was…confusion.

You barely knew Barry, really only in passing. The only time you ever saw him was when you happened to be in Rafe’s truck when he needed to make some exchange, the dark-haired man always giving you a mockingly prissy wave. You never talked to him outside of pleasantries, and quite frankly you hated being around him. Somehow, he always managed to bring out the worst in Rafe, egging on any of Rafe’s disgusting behaviors.

He never called you by your name, it was always—

“Mrs. Country Club,” he drawled, that familiar cheeky half grin on his lips.

The gold in his mouth winked at you as you just stood there, and your stomach turned.

“Barry?” you breathed, and he simply raised his hands as if to say ‘the one and only’. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

He raised his brows at that, pursing his lips together to fight off a smirk. You looked around, trying to make sense of this before taking a shaky breath.

“Why?” you spat, gaze meeting his unreadable one. “I don’t understand…”

Your words died in your throat, getting choked up.

“Why?”

He played with his hair, a look of confusion on his face.

“Why what…?”

“You’re not funny,” you sneered. “You’re not. Why? Why? Why?”

You screamed the last one, face wet with tears, and all the while he simply…smirked at you.

“How about this… I’ll answer yours if you answer mine,” he proposed, gesturing between you. “Did you feel bad when you dumped your boyfriend in the woods?”

His question made so much click, and you sighed, eyes briefly closing.

Of course.

Of fucking course.

Somehow, someway, Topper and Kelce were like brothers to Rafe despite their differences, but Barry? You always hated how your ex-boyfriend managed to find a camaraderie in the dangerous drug dealer, both of them cut from the same psycho cloth. Only Barry could never go to the lengths Rafe did. At least, that was what you always thought…

The laugh that left you seemed to surprise both of you, and he blinked, brows raising again as he just…looked at you.

“That’s what this is about?” you breathed, voice shaking from anger and grief and disgust. “Revenge because I killed your bestie?”

Your tone was mocking, and all the while, Barry just stared at you.

“I guess psycho little rich boys must be hard to come by,” you spat. “Forgive me. Had I known you were going to take it so hard, I would’ve tried to make it look like some tragic accident instead.”

Again, he said nothing at all, and you recalled he’d asked you a question.

“…but to answer your question, no. I didn’t.”

The corner of his lips lifted ever so slightly at that, smirk growing.

“Rafe treated me like his property, like he could do whatever he wanted to me…and best believe…he took full advantage,” you forced out. “That night it was him or me…and I chose me.”

The other man jutted his lip out a bit, nodding in a way that suggested he was almost impressed. You looked at the bodies of the poor couple who’d gotten caught up in your shit, and you wiped your face, more tears spilling over. You adjusted the knife in your hand, staring him down.

“So, are you going to try and kill me or what?”

He tilted his head, raising an eyebrow at you.

“That’s what this whole thing has been about, right?” you threw your arms up. “Tormenting me, driving me crazy, taking my friends from me and saving me for last so I knew what was coming, right?”

His silence actually angered you, now, and you roughly exhaled through your nose.

“What are you waiting for?” you brokenly questioned, startled by the sound of his chuckle.

It was genuine.

“I am offended,” he laughed, hands grazing his chest as he sat up straight. “Do I seem like a bloodthirsty murderer to you? Come on, now, Mrs. Country Club. You know that’s not my style.”

His words confused you.

“Truthfully,” he said, resting his elbows on his knees, a half-smile on his lips. “I’m just here for the show.”

You were so startled by the tight grip on your wrist that you dropped the knife, your lifeline clattering to the floor with a loud clang. Another knife—a bigger one—was at your throat, and you sharply inhaled at the feel of cool metal to your skin. In your attempt to get away from the blade, you pressed yourself further into the chest at your back. His hand on your wrist briefly tightened, so bad that you cried out in pain, but the tears that poured over had nothing to do with that.

You heard his deep breaths, and it wasn’t because his lips were at your ear, but because you’d stopped breathing. You couldn’t feel your heart, an icy emptiness in your chest where it was supposed to be, and the noise that finally left your lips was a cross between a gasp and a cry. The knife at your throat pressed harder into your skin, feeling a slight sting there, but it was nothing in comparison to the feel of his face pressing into the area where your neck and shoulder met.

He deeply inhaled, and a shudder passed through you.

“Word of advice…”

You closed your eyes at the sound of his voice, hoping for anything other than what you accepted as the truth.

“…if you’re going to bury someone,” his lips were at your ear again, and his tone was chilling. “Make sure they’re actually dead.”

A sob finally escaped, and your tearful eyes rested on the ceiling.

“Unlike you, I don’t make that mistake.”

Revulsion filled you, and you were certain that now you really were going to be sick.

“When I set out to kill someone, I get the job done,” he purred, a kiss to your neck. “…but you know that better than anyone, baby.”

You couldn’t even describe the feeling of being in Rafe’s arms again. There was too much going on within you to pinpoint one feeling, but above all else, you knew that you felt fear. Not once had you ever been able to actually heal from Rafe’s abuse. He was the thing you feared most in the world…and then you killed him.

That wasn’t healing.

That was just getting rid of the problem, but the fear and inferiority complex and damage still remained. You were happier with him gone, and you’d mistakenly took that for healing, but now that he was back… Now that Rafe was alive and well and a thousand times worse than you knew him to be, all of that came back, and you couldn’t stop crying.

“What? Nothing to say for yourself?”

It was so hard to breathe, and you couldn’t answer Rafe’s question even if you wanted to.

“Nothing to say about how you hit me upside the head and buried me in the woods like a fucking dog?”

He shook you as he said this, and you cried out. Evidently, that made him angrier, and you soon found yourself thrown to the floor. Your legs landed in blood, and your attempt to crawl away was halted by Rafe’s hand in your hair. He yanked you back until you were on your knees, and when you reached up, his other hand had the knife at your throat.

“Oh, wait, that’s right. What was it you said? It came down to you…or me…?” he chuckled, purposefully nicking your neck. “…and you chose you…right?”

He shoved you again, and you struggled to get to the wall, leaning against it and finally facing him.

It actually hurt you to see that he was just as beautiful as the day you buried him. Of course, he was sober, now, but what did that count for when he also had half a dozen literal bodies under his belt now? Blood stained his shirt, so much of it, and you wondered how much of it belonged to your friends. Your lips trembled as he pushed his hair out of his face, his other hand still holding the bloody knife.

“Sorry about your boyfriend,” he suddenly said although he didn’t sound sorry, at all.

Your face crumbled, and he chuckled.

“It wasn’t my intention for him to go like that, but…” he wiped blood off of his forehead. “I couldn’t quite get the image of him on top of you out of my head.”

Your eyes widened at his words, staring at him in shock as you recalled the day you told yourself you were imagining things.

“Truthfully, Sarah was supposed to be last,” he casually said, and you pressed your hand to your mouth. “My own fucking sister.”

He scoffed, and something passed through his gaze that told you he was genuinely hurt about Sarah’s so-called betrayal. His blue eyes rested on you, and you were suddenly thinking about the last time you stared into them…when he had his hands around your throat, choking the life out of you. Rafe seemed to be thinking about that night too, and you watched his gaze briefly fall to the floor, sniffing.

“I gotta admit,” he murmured. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

He looked into your eyes again, and you realized that you hadn’t stopped crying once since he revealed himself to you. Your gaze briefly landed on Barry who was still on the couch, watching the whole ordeal like this was some tv show instead of real fucking life.

“Rafe…” you choked out.

“…but I can promise you,” the blond sneered, pointing the knife at you. “I won’t be making that mistake again.”

You closed your eyes, fresh tears falling, and you struggled to swallow.

“Just get it over with already,” you breathed, so tired and…defeated. “Just kill me.”

When you opened your eyes, Rafe looked genuinely amused at the words that left your mouth. You weren’t surprised when he chuckled, and he glanced over his shoulder at Barry, still laughing.

“Oh, you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

Your confusion must have been evident because he laughed again. Rafe stepped towards you until your eyes were level with his crotch, and you hated the way he looked down at you, like you were this helpless and hapless thing that he was just going to have so much fun with. When he slowly knelt before you, you flinched as he lifted his hand, the end of the knife lightly grazing your cheek before it trailed down your neck. Rafe’s blue gaze followed the descent, tongue darting out between his lips.

“Why would I do a silly thing like that?”

His almost inaudible words were loud and clear to you though, and you felt like you’d been shot.

“I won’t lie,” he said, staring at your collarbone. “I thought about. It was the first thing on my mind when Barry pulled me out of that grave you put me in.”

You swallowed when his gaze snapped to yours.

“I wanted to gut you like those fish my dad are always reeling in,” he spat. “I wanted to cut you open.”

You shook your head, letting it fall as you cried.

“…but this seemed soo much better,” he breathed, voice shaky, and you knew it wasn’t from fear nor anger.

Rafe was excited.

“…because you know what’s so much better than murdering all of your friends and forcing you to live with the fact that their deaths are on your hands? Hmm?”

He reached up, lightly grazing your lips with his fingers.

“Do you know what’s better than that?”

His hand tightened around your chin, and knowing him like the back of your hand, you knew he actually wanted an answer.

“No,” you muttered.

Rafe leaned in, brushing his lips against your cheek in a gentle kiss as he whispered his response.

“Having you all to myself.”

You didn’t have time to resist before Rafe was yanking you up by your hair, quite literally dragging you through this stranger’s house. Your feet tripped over one another, and several times you almost fell. Rafe finally wrapped an arm around your neck, keeping you in a chokehold as he forced you down the hall. The moment you tried to scream, his hand was there, forcing it down, and when he tossed you into the bedroom, your forehead hit the leg of the bed.

You heard him whistle.

“The old geezers have taste,” he praised. “…bet this is where that granddaughter of theirs sleeps when she comes to visit.”

You were a sobbing mess, just barely pushing yourself to your knees when Rafe tackled you onto your back. Not unfamiliar with this predicament, you fought against him, hitting him and scratching at his face. Any resistance was met with a genuine laugh, and when Rafe had both of your wrists pinned down beside your head, he tilted his own at you.

“You already killed me, baby,” he breathed. “What more could you do to me?”

The scream you let out was filled with equal pain and frustration, kicking out when he sank his teeth into your chest. It was done with the full intent to hurt, and he succeeded, pain blooming beneath your skin as he tore at your shirt.

Becoming reacquainted with his knife, you tried to scoot back as he sliced through your pants with it, pulling the jeans off of you in tatters. Fearful of the weapon in his hand, you tried to push at his arm, but when his free hand wrapped around your throat, effectively pinning you down, the knife found its way to your stomach.

You breath hitched as you froze.

“I’d be careful if I were you,” Rafe hummed. “I might just…slip.”

You yelped at the sharp feeling along your stomach, and the burn you felt told you there was a cut there. He didn’t let go of the knife as he undressed himself with his other hand, and when he reached for your bra, the blade was pressed to your throat the entire time. You couldn’t stop shaking even if you wanted to, and Rafe made a show of taking his time as he settled between your legs.

“I hope you know how much planning went into this…”

You squeezed your eyes shut.

“…and I hope you know that this was all that kept me going.”

When he pushed into you, you gasped in both pain and shock. You hadn’t been with Rafe—with anyone—in a year, and you struggled to adjust. Fresh tears escaped, and when Rafe’s bloody hand gripped your jaw, he turned your head to meet him in a kiss. It was gentle, nothing at all like the rough thrusts he started to give you.

Your back rubbed against the floor as he fucked you, and your crying was drowned out by the sound of his deep moans. Rafe sounded like he was in heaven while you felt like you were in hell. The feel of his cock pushing into you made your mind shrivel with disgust, but your body responded exactly how he wanted.

“I missed you,” he moaned, burying his face into the crook of your neck. “Fuck, I missed you so much.”

You sobbed louder, hating the way his thrusts became smoother, now. Your body greedily sucked him in with every push of his hips, and as his hands ran over you, all you could think about were these same hands killing your friends. These same hands that had done so much damage to your life even before that fateful night last year.

With a tug on the hair at the nape of your neck, Rafe forced your head back, and he took his time grazing his teeth along your skin. You could still feel the cool blade of the knife on your skin whenever he moved his other hand. His hips snapped against yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room, and it seemed like every nightmare you’d had about Rafe had come true…only multiplied by one hundred.

He pressed a hand into your stomach, holding himself up that way while the other hand pressed the knife to your throat. A fresh bout of sobs escaped, and you swore that Rafe actually smiled. You were proven right when he laughed, a deep and raspy chuckle that made your hair stand on end.

“Sucks, doesn’t it?” he breathed. “…being so weak and at the mercy of someone else?”

It was sick how Rafe didn’t seem to realize that you knew this feeling long before today. Countless days filled with fear and yelling and manhandling plagued your mind, and the knowledge that Rafe had no intention of ending your suffering was enough to make you go numb.

As if sensing that, Rafe pressed the blade into your throat.

Your gasped turned into cries as you reached up.

“Uh uh,” he panted. “None of that. You are going to lie here…and you’re going to think about what you did to me.”

You gripped his wrist, eyes pleading. Rafe leaned in, nose pressed to yours with a knife pressed to your throat and a hand pressed to your stomach.

“You’re going to lie here, and take my cock, and thank God that I decided to spare your life.”

A particular hard thrust made you gasp.

“Every day, for as long as you live, I want you to think about your friends and remember that they are dead because of you…”

You closed your eyes, and Rafe dug the knife into your throat.

“Open your fucking eyes,” he breathed, continuing when you obeyed. “They are dead because you failed to kill me, and every time I come inside of you, you should take it with nothing less than gratitude.”

He kissed you then, roughly and lacking of any kind of love. It was purely done for show, to exert his power over you and remind you that you belonged to him. You tried to turn your head, and in doing so, you caught sight of Barry leaning against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest as he watched. The sight made you turn your head away, sobbing beneath Rafe.

“…because never forget that I wanted to cut you open,” he whispered in your ear, grinding his hips against yours and forcing a choked moan from your lips. “…but where is the fun in killing you when this is so much better.”

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader #obx #outer banks #obx imagine #outer banks imagine #kinktober #halloween #halloween fic

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gb-patch · 7 months

Text

Our Life Now & Forever: Polyamorous Relationship Feature Announcement!

So, I’ve changed my own mind! You will be able to end up in a relationship with both Qiu and Tamarack if you want to when Our Life: Now & Forever is fully released. I originally didn't guarantee a polyamorous relationship option because I didn’t know for sure if it'd be possible to add it without pushing the game back, however this story would simply feel incomplete without that. It was very obvious when writing the Step 2 preview for the soon-to-release demo update. Qiu, Tamarack, and the MC are as important as a group as they are in individual pairings. It has to be done. Besides, tons of choice and having relationships be whatever makes you most comfortable is why people wait years for GB Patch to finish these games in the first place, haha.

Now, the way the optional poly relationship will work is that Qiu and Tamarack would be in a committed platonic relationship with each other and can be in a committed platonic or romantic relationship with the MC. Qiu and Tamarack won’t be romantically involved with each other regardless of the choices the MC makes.

This relationship dynamic will only be available in Step 4: Adulthood. It won’t be something you can get together during the bulk of the story because Qiu and Tamarack do need time to sort things with each other over the years before taking that kind of step.

Nothing is going to change with our plans so far. Our Life: Now & Forever will have a Kickstarter that's launching less than two weeks. If everything goes well, the goal will be to release the first three Steps and most of the DLCs in late 2025. The Step 4 Epilogue with the poly relationship option and any bonus DLCs that get funded by the Kickstarter would come out later on.

Our Life: Now & Forever Kickstarter Pre-Launch Page

I’ll be updating the game’s information to reflect this new element as a basic part of the project ✨.

Thank you to everyone who’s loved both Tamarack and Qiu already! I hope this will make the story that much happier to experience.

#our life #visual novel #dating sim #interactive fiction #our life: now & forever #qiu lin #tamarack baumann #gb patch games #gb patch

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ivoovu · 2 months

Text

*cough*

Mic Tap

A PSA to all König/Krueger writers:

Hello, I‘m Voov, and I‘m a native German.

And let me just clarify that I do not mean any of this in a offensive matter, and that none of these things are 'annoying' or 'bothersome' to me as a German, which I‘m sure other Germans would agree with me. This isn‘t something that‘s making it impossible for us to read blurbs/fics/etc., however I do know that some writers want to write in foreign languages as accurately and realistically as possible, so this is for those. And for everyone else who‘s just interested, of course

🤍🍪

1 - What I often read is "Exemplary Sentence I can‘t think of something right now but it‘s in English, ja?"

We don’t end our sentences with "[…], ja?". Sometimes, yes, fair, sometimes we do so, but it’s on the rarer side in my opinion. Majority of the time we use this at the end of our sentences:

"[…], nicht?" = "[…], no?" (please don‘t use "[…], nein?" for this one)

or:

"[…], nh?" = honestly this one can be used for a lot of things, it can be used for "[…], no?", "[…], don‘t you think so?" or how the Brits use 'innit', like you‘re trying to prove a point.

(Translation for "[…], don‘t you think so?" = "[…], denkst du nicht auch so?")

I understand that when you type in a "[…], ja?" you‘re translating from the words' English equivalent which is "[…], yeah?", but again, it‘s more common to use "[…], nicht?" instead.

If you use a good mix of "[…], ja?", "[…], nicht?" and "[…], nh?" (and any other word you might want to add to the end of your sentence) instead of sticking to one throughout an entire fic, you‘ll make us Germans a bit happier.

🍙⌛️

2- If you‘re using longer sentences, and the sentences are directed at the Reader, you should clarify beforehand if the Reader is masc or fem. Why? Because a lot of words are gendered in German, so the way they’re conjugated tell us the Gender of the Person:

English: "My perfect Partner."

-> Gender neutral, the reader could be a Man, Woman, in between, on the outside, an Alien race, whatever

If you type this into google translate you get: "Mein perfekter Partner."

-> Masculine. It‘s an instant tell that the reader is a dude.

The female version would be: "Meine perfekte Partnerin."

-> Now we know instantly that this is feminine.

There is no gender neutral, German simply isn’t a language that works that way.

Can you write full sentences without using anything gendered, at all? Yes, absolutely, here‘s an example:

English: "Oh God I love you, I don‘t know what I would do without you. You‘re my everything, I‘ll do anything and everything for you."

German: "Oh Gott ich liebe dich, ich weiß nicht was ich ohne dich machen würde. Du bist mein ein und alles, ich würde alles für dich tun."

This is completely gender neutral because while typing I actively made sure to avoid using anything gendered. But I understand that this is a extremely difficult task to do so for those who don’t speak German, so if you can pull it off, you just earned my highest form of respect, but this isn’t something that us Germans expect of you as a Writer, this is just something I wanted to draw your attention to.

🐰🧳

My point is: If you do any of those two, we Germans aren’t crying about it. We won‘t stop reading the fic, we won‘t bitch about it or send you hate-mail.

We just notice it, correct the sentence in our mind, and some of us will type out the correct sentence as a comment.

I sadly don‘t have any websites that can help with the gendered words, and google translate sucks anyways, so I truly don‘t have any type of direction I could point you writers to, sorry :/

But I have said this before and I‘ll say it again, as many times as I have to: I am absolutely willing to help with the German parts, my dm‘s are always open, no I won’t think you’re annoying or abusing anything by asking me to check the German sentences you might‘ve used in your works, no I‘m not saying any of this out of courtesy, no I‘m not lying, no we don’t have to know each other, no you don’t have to deal with chit chat you can immediately hit me up with 'Hey how is this sentence?', yes I am being serious. In doubt, read this paragraph again and again.

🐚🪵

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amomentsescape · 3 months

Note

Hey, do you have any slasher X reader where the reader loves baking?

Slashers with Reader That Loves Baking

Slashers x Reader (Separate)

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, & Stu

A/N: Hmm... I don't think I do. Looks like I need to whip up another fic. Here you go!

Freddy Krueger

Although Freddy doesn't need to eat, he'll try anything you make him!

He's happy that you have a hobby that you enjoy during the day

He's even happier that he gets to taste the results

Whenever you visit him, he makes sure the dream world has a kitchen for you in case you want to make something while you're there

You're more inclined to bake there anyways because Freddy can get you just about any ingredient your heart desires

When you do make items, Freddy switches into his "Kiss the Cook" apron and matching hat

He may not help you with the baking, but he still expects kisses while you work

He'll stand beside you, just observing everything you do

He doesn't ask too many questions either, he just likes seeing you relaxed

Once the treats are ready, he literally stabs a few onto his knifed glove and eats them off of it

There hasn't been a single thing you've made that he hasn't enjoyed

Michael Myers

Michael is pretty neutral with your enjoyment of baking

He tends to his hobbies, you tend to yours

He doesn't feel like there needs to be any crossover of sorts

However, he won't deny you when you ask him to try things

And if you need help accessing the top shelf, he'll help you out

He secretly has a big sweet tooth, and your warm smile influences him to try everything (he'd be dead before he admitted it though)

He has a pretty basic taste in sweets too

He enjoys the majority of the cookies, cakes, and breads you've made

He isn't a big fan of pie or dried fruits though

If you make a batch of anything, he'll try a bite if you ask, but that'll be it

You're always certain he's just trying to be polite

But whenever you wake up in the morning, half the tray is gone

Michael will just shrug it off of course

But it's pretty obvious he enjoys your treats

Jason Voorhees

He absolutely loves that you bake!

To be fair, he'd love literally anything you do that makes you happy, but baking reminds him a lot of his missed childhood

You've made a couple things already that reminded him of stuff his mother used to make, and it almost brought him to tears

He doesn't really get sweet cravings like he did when he was younger, but he will never say no to trying something of yours

He also enjoys decorating some of the treats too

His large hands tend to fumble a bit, and nothing comes out as good as yours, but he's having fun, and that's what matters most to you both

His favorite thing is coming home after a long day to the smell of baked goods and to see you casually mixing ingredients together

You just seem so content, and it gives him a taste of what domestic life is like with you

He'll always come over to greet you with a hug, not caring if you're covered in flour

And once he's gotten cleaned up, he just sits at the table out of the way, watching you

He especially loves when you talk to him while baking

It just makes him all warm inside

Thomas Hewitt

He never really grew up with home baked goods like yours before, so it feels like literal heaven when he smells the sugar in the air

He likes walking up and peering over your shoulder, trying to see what you're doing

He also just likes hanging out with you in case you need help with anything

If your arms ever get tired from mixing or kneading, you know who to ask

If you let him, he'll take little tastes of the batters, predicting how much he's going to like them once they're done

(It's always a 10/10)

If it's sweet, he likes it

There's never been anything you've made that he didn't eat almost all of in one night

He loves if you make enough for the whole family too!

He's a bit hesitant to help decorate, and even more so to help add ingredients

But if you ask, there's no way he'd be willing to say no

Bubba Sawyer

He adores your baking!

He absolutely has no idea what you're doing half the time, but he's happy about it all the same

You've got to be careful with this one though

Because if you even turn around for a second, the batter is gone

Same goes for when the treats are cooling

If you leave the kitchen, they'll be gone within just a couple minutes

You have no idea how he manages to do it

At least he's showing you just how much he loves your bakery?

But besides that, he's a great hand to have in the kitchen

He can mix and mix for days

And he's always there to help hand you whatever you need

Just don't trust him with the powders unless you want a white, dusty kitchen

He's also not the best around the hot oven, having burnt himself a handful of times

It's kind of like having a helpful but clumsy child in the kitchen with you

But he's so sweet you can't bare to tell him to leave

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms never grew up with many sweets in the house

So having his own baker at home is like feeding a starving man

And with Brahms, you can imagine how that goes

Will come to you almost every day with a new treat he is craving

In fact, he even added to the rules list that you needed to make him a bedtime treat or else he refuses to go to sleep

You love baking of course, so it's not a problem, but some of his requests are absurd

A pie covered in chocolate ice cream smooshed with cookies and drizzled with brownie batter might be a bit much for a midnight snack

But you honestly did it to yourself

The moment he tasted your treats, there was no going back

And be careful when the sugar rush hits

He's ready to bounce off the walls with you in tow

Norman Bates

Norman has always been one for domestic hobbies

So the fact that you're a baker makes him feel so cozy and warm

Waking up to fresh muffins with his tea, coming home to a plate of brownies, and even being woken up in the middle of the night to some wild cookie recipe all makes Norman so happy

Jokingly complains that you're fattening him up

He's honestly a pretty good baker himself, although he argues that his skill is nowhere near as good as yours

But there have been a handful of times he prepare his own treat beside you in the kitchen, and it always came out amazing

And because of his experience, he's happy to give a lending hand when you need

If you're making something you know by heart instead, then he's still there beside you, keeping up with the dishes so you don't have to tend to a mess later

Norman enjoys whatever makes you happy, and is eager to learn even more about what you love too!

Billy Loomis

He's pretty chill about it at first

He thinks it's a cute hobby, but doesn't know much about it himself

However, the first time he was actually there with you watching you work and tasting what you made...

He really gained a better perspective on it

He can see the hard work and true enjoyment you put into the hobby, and this makes him appreciate it more

He's not huge on sweets, but seeing you put all of this together for him makes it impossible to deny them

Will be brutally honest if he likes something or not, but there's truly only been a couple times he actually didn't like what you made

Will occasionally sit on the counter beside you and just ask basic questions

"What does this thing do?" "How long does it need to sit there?" "Is there a difference between folding and mixing?"

You always smile at him since his genuine curiosity is cute

Plus, it shows he's trying to learn more about what you do

Will definitely stand behind you and rest his head on your shoulder while you work

Stu Macher

You love to bake? Well, Stu loves to eat

Match made in heaven in his eyes

He honestly is surprised by the amount of effort that it takes to whip up a simple cookie or cupcake

He's not usually on this end of the food process

But he honestly enjoys watching what you do

Will literally just stare and zone out, making you laugh

Loves loves loves when it's time to lick the spoon

He will dab batter onto your nose though

He's a huge fan of helping you decorate too!

Just be careful, because Stu is also a huge fan of squeezing the piping bag directly into his mouth

But surprisingly, Stu has become pretty decent at piping frosting and making your treats look pretty

He always insists on eating the ones you decorate though because they "taste better"

He honestly just loves being able to show praise for the stuff you make him and will always request a fun treat to accompany your weekly movie nights

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milswrites · 1 month

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Something blue

~ Azriel X Reader

Summary: You and Azriel get married.

Warnings: Teeny bit of angst but then all fluff :)

Azriel couldn't hear the words his brother was speaking over the incessant pounding of his heartbeat which echoed in the depths of his ears. Not even his probing shadows could break him from his anxious stupor, the dark curling mists attempting to pull their master back to reality through their gentle nudges and soothing presence.

Azriel was sure that if he was aware of his families comforting words and his shadows warming embrace he would have been grateful. Yet all he desired was your reassuring company, your gentle aura having always been enough to ebb the rising doubts from his storming mind.

It was only when Cassian laid a heavy hand on his tense shoulder did Azriel allow himself to come back to reality. Permissing his faraway mind to return to it's earthly shell, rejoining him where he was stood at the end of the aisle.

It wasn't the prospect of marrying you which terrified him. No, Azriel couldn't think of anything sweeter than consolidating the love between the two of you. However, the invasive doubts that Azriel didn't deserve you pecked away at his brain. Worried that his monstrous past and his dark line of work made him unworthy of your love.

It was foolish to think this of course, you looked at Azriel as though he had hung the stars in the night sky, the male brightening the life you had claimed was once so dull. To you, Azriel could do no wrong and you had spent many sleepless nights reminding the male of this as you cradled his trembling form.

Which is why when Cassian asked him if he needed a moment to escape and gather his thoughts, Azriel stubbornly declined the offer. Not wanting to make even the smallest of mistakes out of fear that the one good thing in his life would slip away from him.

No, Azriel would wait. Patiently standing at the end of the aisle until you came to stand by his side. Your presence alone would be enough to melt away his insecurity and unease.

Which is why with this knowledge, he allowed himself to relax. The understanding that you would soon be with him was enough to loosen his taught muscles, enabling a steady breath to be drawn from his lips.

You were his home, his fortress, and Azriel needed only to think of you to instill him with the strength he needed to battle his demons.

He brushed Cassian's worried hand away, providing his concerned brother a smile overflowing with confidence. Teeth slightly bared in excitement.

"I'm fine Cas," Azriel promised, "I couldn't be happier."

He needn't lie when he spoke the words to his brother, each syllable laced with a welcoming truth. How could he not be happy, when you were the deliverer of his joy.

A soft melody began to hum from the harp beside him, an ethereal tune which sang the story of your love. Each harmonious note signifying a beautiful tale of your partnership.

But it wasn't the sweet tune which brought a silver tear to Azriel's eye. Nor was it the fact that he was surrounded by his friends, all sharing a smile of beaming warmth at the glorious occasion.

No, the reason for his joyous weeping was the angel who faced him at the other end of the aisle. His love, a vision dressed in white, who's arm was wrapped around that of his proud mother's.

Azriel cried as his entire universe walked towards him. As the two most important people in his life slowly made their way past his teary-eyed friends and family until they came to stop before him.

His doting mother came to wipe the wetness from his cheeks, face a picture of unbridled jubilation, before Cassian came to lead the exuberant woman to their seats as the last heavenly note from the harp was strung. The soft hum of the music still wavering in the air despite it's completion. And as Azriel's hazel eyes finally came to meet your own, a bond of love and passion was shared through your affectionate gazes.

You've always been beautiful, there was no debating that. But the god-like glow which the mother had blessed you with on the day of your wedding had rendered the shadowsinger speechless. The force of your otherworldly beauty almost being enough to pull the male to his knees before you. Azriel promised himself in that moment that he would spend the rest of his days worshipping you in all your glory until the day he died.

The trivial words of the priestess failed to register in his mind, Azriel's thoughts were consumed entirely by you. It wasn't until you began to make your vows, did Azriel's attention then turn to your enchanting voice. His mind, body and soul all enraptured by your tender words.

"I have loved you since before I even knew you existed. My heart has always belonged to you, and I finally found it when we first met. We were made for each other, you and I, two souls destined for each other. And even if we didn't have the cauldron's influence, I still would have loved you as deeply and passionately as I do now. You're my entire world Azriel and I consider myself lucky for the life I'm going to spend with you and I will continue to love you until we're the last stars in the sky."

Azriel was sure he couldn't have cried more than he had already done so, though it was clear his well hadn't run dry as of yet. Glistening trails of happy tears streamed down his smiling cheeks. His gentle shadows wrapped around his body under his clothes, their presence comforting him, reminding him that his feelings were natural, That he could allow himself to weep at his good fortune.

The male had planned his vows in advance, wanting to be prepared in case his nerves took hold of him and prevented him from saying what he wanted to be said. Yet being in the moment, standing here next to your ethereal form after hearing your impassioned promise, Azriel failed to find words worthy enough to be heard by your ears. And so, surprising even himself Azriel neglected the speech he had spent the past few days reciting and spoke from his heart.

"You are my strength and stability. My saviour and my undoing. You see me for who I am and yet you've never once shied away, you accept me in a way so few people have done so and I couldn't be more blessed than to have you as my partner for the rest of my life. I have never felt more loved, more accepted by anyone and I know that whenever the darkness overcomes me I need only to look to you for my salvation. And so I promise you this now, that I will never fail to be anyone other than the male who you know me to be. I gift myself you you with the oath that I shall love you forever as you deserve."

The exchange of your vows was done so in a moment of frozen existence. Despite the room full of your loved ones, it felt as though the promises were made in secret, a silent joining of your two souls morphing into one. You may as well have been the only people in the entire universe.

When the time came to present each other with the rings you had selected, you slipped the band onto his steady finger. A golden line etched into the silver metal, a constant reminder of the shimmering thread which tied the two of you together for eternity.

When the time came for him to slip the ring he had gifted for you onto your own finger, you marveled at the cobalt blue gem which stared back at you. A glowing piece of Azriel's siphon. A piece of your mate gifted to you.

"Your something blue" he whispered with a smile, voice low enough for only you to hear. Recalling the superstitious poem you had recited to him when you first began making plans for your wedding.

"It's beautiful Az,"you beamed at the male before you, at your husband, looking into his hazel eyes as you spoke, "But I already have my something blue and it'll take a lot more than a fancy ring for me to want to replace him."

#acotar #acotar imagine #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel #azriel oneshot #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar

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ja3yun · 1 month

Text

Melting Point | P.SH | CH.8

brother's rival!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: angst, smut (mdni), unprotected sex, fingering, rose toy, multiple orgasms, confrontation, ynhee's mum (she's a warning all in herself), anything else lmk! ch. 8 synopsis: the weekend of nationals is finally here and there's a buzz in the air but of course, nothing can run as smoothly as you plan. sunghoon lets you in on minhee and his private conversation, leaving you stuck between a rock and a hard place. wc: 13.6k previous | masterlist | next a/n: hi! i cannot believe melting point ends NEXT WEEK like wdym :( this chapter really explains everything you need to know about the story and everything w the mum so this is an important one <3 thank you all so much for the love. as always i really value your feedback/comments/likes/reblogs. nothing makes me happier than reading your theories and comments, thank you so much! pls enjoy.

Heaving your case, you start to wonder if you packed too much for the weekend. It’s not like you meant to cram in 6 different outfits, 3 pairs of shoes, and every piece of makeup you own - you just wanted to be extra prepared; that and you’re indecisive.

It’s finally Nationals weekend which means everything the boys have been working so hard for is here, only 2 days away. Technically, they should have been in Seoul already but you had a prelim exam today so they both waited for you to be finished before heading out.

The decision wasn’t your favourite, considering they’re missing parts of the press conferences and extra training but they assured you it was the easiest scapegoat out of travelling with the coaches and answering the usual ‘ideal type’ and ‘boyfriend’ questions that get thrown at them.

Considering they were top athletes, you would think the reporters would have more intelligent questions. Sunghoon had told you the last press event he did, the reporters just decided to try and ask him questions he knew would make him look arrogant and cocky with both women and on the ice.

It irks you how everyone has this preconceived perception about the man you love who would bend over backwards to make people happy. He says it doesn’t bother him and therefore it shouldn’t burden you but that's your man and he’s being slandered over news websites, it’s only right you get a little annoyed.

You can hear Sunghoon now as you think about it, telling you “at least I can back up my massive ego with a first place”, and he’s right, but it still doesn’t make you any more okay with it.

Presently, you’re walking down your campus path to the main road, on the way to meet both Minhee and Sunghoon. Somehow, you’ve managed to convince them to drive to the competition together. It took Minhee more convincing than Sunghoon, his biggest objection being you and your boyfriend all over one another.

There’s a mastermind plan to your reasoning; you want them to get along and forcing them in a close proximity for more than 3 hours seems like the best way to do it. Well, you’ve convinced yourself it’s the best way. Plus, you can try and pry out of them what they were talking about the other day in the coach’s office.

Looking ahead, you see Sunghoon and Minhee talking, or rather bickering about something.

This might be harder than you thought.

“You are NOT driving my baby, she doesn’t need your hands all over her,” you hear Sunghoon say, arms crossed in defence.

“Come on, man! It’s a 3-hour drive and you look tired. I’ll take the wheel and you go for a sleep in the back,” Minhee retorts, pleased with himself for his reasoning; yet, Sunghoon doesn’t budge, adamant that your brother will never get the driver’s seat.

It’s oddly refreshing to see them argue about something so trivial and not try to tear each other’s character down. They’re nipping at one another like friends do. You and Rina have had your fair share of minisode arguments about throwaway things like this so seeing them do the same makes you smile.

However, you will stop it, just in case Sunghoon gets too riled up - you know how he can get when it comes to his car. You spilled the tiniest bit of your blueberry juice on the seat and he nearly crashed into the traffic light. He’s very dramatic and overly protective.

“Mini, if you drive, I’ll just make out with Hoon in the back the whole drive there,” you laugh.

Your boys turn around at the sudden sound of your voice, both wearing different expressions. Sunghoon’s face upturns into brightness as he sees you, his arms come undone, and his body visibly relaxes. He looks as handsome as ever with his hair styled and smart-casual outfit; grey-collared sweater with black pressed trousers.

Minhee on the other hand is disgusted at the thought of you climbing all over your boyfriend for hours on end. He’s wearing some jeans, a plain white t-shirt, and a brown leather jacket, it’s his typical choice but he suits it.

Taking your luggage, Sunghoon whispers a ‘hey’ into your lips as he kisses you tenderly. The display of affection only makes Minhee fake gag, “Suddenly, I don’t want to drive anymore,” your brother scoffs, yielding his earlier argument in trade for some peace from the love parade.

You let out a light laugh, moving from Sunghoon to hug Minhee, “You’ve made the right choice,” the airiness in your voice matches the contentment you feel as he hugs you, ruffling your hair in the process.

While Sunghoon puts your case in the boot, grunting about how heavy it is, you take the opportunity to warn Minhee, “Please be nice to him, okay? I want you both to get along.” It’s a simple request but the seriousness in your eyes conveys everything Minhee has to know.

"I'll tolerate him," he pinches your cheek and offers you an understanding smile when he notices your harsh expression, "Okay, I promise I'll be on my best behaviour." He enters the car with hands raised in faux defence.

You knew he'd behave even before you warned him, but you had to do it since the temptation to fall back into habit might be too strong for both of them. That is why Minhee isn't the only one whom you are warning.

As you walk up to Sunghoon, he closes the trunk with a soft thud, "Can you try getting along with Mini today? It'd mean a lot to me if you guys could at least give friendship a shot," you gently suggest.

"I'll do my best to make us leave here best buddies," Sunghoon replies with fake enthusiasm, "But baby, I gotta tell you, the drive here wasn't great. Did you know he sticks his foot up on the seat? Made things pretty uncomfortable for my girl," he says, giving the car's rear a pat, still bothered by Minhee's lack of respect for the second most important girl in his life.

Your brother wasn’t always the best at reading a situation and considering it’s the first time he was in Sunghoon’s car, he should have been a little more gracious. But he’s Minhee, that’s just how he is.

“Did you tell him not to do it?” you ask, looking through the back window to see the back of your brother’s head.

“Obviously, he just ignored me,” Sunghoon feigns a pain in his heart, “It was tragic.”

His dramatic act earns him an eye roll and no reaction, “I will tell him if he does it.”

With the promises sealed up with one more kiss, you both clamber into your respective seats, ready for the long journey ahead.

The roads are busier than normal, a traffic jam on the motorway is going to add an extra 25 minutes to your time. You don’t mind it, given you're not the one driving, but Sunghoon is getting impatient, the fingers on his left hand tapping on the wheel while his right hand subconsciously grips your thigh, using you like his personal stress ball.

Minhee couldn’t be more relaxed, his body has somehow managed to lounge himself over the back seat, phone in his hand as he plays house flipper.

“We should put on the radio or something, might make this go in faster,” you suggest, already reaching for the screen. None of them complain, too busy in their own worlds to notice. This car drive was supposed to bond them and so far the only conversation they have had was to text the coaches and let them know they would be late; hardly riveting.

The speakers quietly play the sound of Sza’s Kill Bill which has both of them bobbing their heads. Even just the addition of music has made the car feel less awkward.

You don’t want to force them to be friends but you also want to say you tried to meld them together in some capacity. These two men are the most precious people in your life and if they don’t get along, your plan to hang out together will be foiled. Even worse, your secret scheme to have Sunghoon over for Christmas dinner would also be ruined. Christmas is already tense enough never mind adding in two people who can’t even speak to one another.

The next song that plays makes Minhee sit up sharply and you whip your head around to look at him.

Maybe it's the way she walked

Singing the song at each other, you and your brother showcase your sibling brain cells by belting out your joined karaoke song. It was unintentional and you don’t remember specifically how it happened, but one day One Direction’s Best Song Ever became the song you would sing together at every function, both of you staying up late to learn the dance and all the dialogue lines. Minhee swore blindly that he would make a better Liam/Leroy than you but you proved him wrong pretty quickly.

The abrupt change in atmosphere jolts Sunghoon to look at you both wildly while you both sing loudly. He does note how Minhee can actually sing and you, well, you’ve got spirit. The smile on his face gradually gets bigger, the happiness between the siblings infecting him.

And we danced all night to the best song ever

We knew every line, now I can't remember

He hasn’t seen you get this excited in a while, the pressure of keeping too many secrets from too many people had a weighted effect on you, yet, now that’s gone, you look as light as a feather, enjoying your life free of guilt and shame, a life where you have Minhee by your side and him on the other.

If it’s the last thing he does, he will make sure to become friends with Minhee by the end of the weekend.

The makeshift choreo you and Minhee created for the verses comes back easily, both your arms flapping around the place, hairography and all the rest of it. The laughter filtering through Minhee’s singing makes you feel like you’re finally home.

Minhee extends a metaphorical microphone to Sunghoon, attempting to draw him into your shared joy. It's not a conscious effort, but rather a natural inclination to include him in this moment, making him feel like a part of the Kang family, even if just for a song. There was also a tiny bit of him hoping Sunghoon had the worst voice out of the three of you, giving him something to slag him about.

“Nope, sorry, I don’t sing,” Sunghoon protests, moving his focus to the ever-so-slowly moving traffic.

“Come on, Hoonie, you know the words! You already told me you were a Louis girl,” you chuckle, also holding out your pretend microphone to join Minhee.

With the Kang siblings eagerly awaiting his participation, Sunghoon relents, quietly joining in the singing. His voice isn’t loud, he’s cautiously singing the song with you and Minhee, letting you both take the lead on it. He appreciates the effort Minhee made to involve him but this is also clearly you and Minhee’s joint thing, he doesn’t want to intervene too much.

However, that’s not sitting with any of you, “Sunghoon put some chutzpah into it!” Minhee encourages.

Minhee is trying his best, the once subconscious act is now intended, he wants you to know he’s trying to get along with your boyfriend despite their past. You deserve that much.

There’s a glimmer of amusement in Sunghoon’s eyes as he gets sucked into the infectious energy of the moment and becomes more vocal. What neither you nor Minhee expects is for Sunghoon’s voice to be as good as it was. You had heard him sing maybe once in the shower but you weren’t paying attention, not like now. Now he has your full attention, leaving him and your brother to harmonise together.

As Niall's part comes on, Minhee playfully nudges your arm, signalling your turn to sing, a cue you eagerly follow. At that moment, the confines of the car seem to expand, enveloping you all in a bubble of pure bliss and laughter. It's something you want to etch into your memory, a snapshot of unfiltered happiness that you'll treasure forever.

The final lines of the song resonate through the air, and a sense of contentment settles over you all, transforming the cold winter morning outside into something warm and inviting, much like a spring day.

Minhee reaches over and pats Sunghoon on the shoulder, offering him a genuine compliment. "You've got a set of pipes on you, mate," he remarks, devoid of any tension, prompting a surprised look from you.

“Thanks, you’re not that bad of a singer either,” your boyfriend relays.

“Nah, it’s just singing next to her I sound like Adele or something,” Minhee pokes fun at you like always, clearly amusing Sunghoon because he just laughs and nods along. Honestly, if making some lighthearted jokes about your singing is the thing that makes them friends, you’ll allow it.

The rest of the car journey is now filled with chatter, mostly you and Minhee reminiscing about your upbringing, telling Sunghoon all the stories that embarrass one another while he drives you closer to the city.

Sunghoon enjoys the way you two interact, it shows him why you were so determined not to hurt Minhee for all those months, putting aside your own happiness for him. Whenever competitions happened, he got to see you and Minhee’s relationship from the sidelines and that made him a little envious.

Ice skating has always been so lonely for him with no time to make friends with fellow skaters because his mum would be pulling him away to go home or keep him on the ice while everyone else went to get a sweet treat after training. His mum made him so lonely that she was the only one he could rely on.

That was until now. Jay and Jake were always there for him but it’s harder for them to understand since they aren’t in the sport directly, whereas you and Minhee both have grown up in the same gruelling surroundings as him.

Sunghoon’s jealousy grew the more he saw Minhee, the loving sister, the nice coach, even a little less toxic of a mother, granted his opinions of her have wildly changed now that he knows everything. But even with that, Minhee seemed to have it all - he had everything Sunghoon wanted.

He would trade in every trophy for a little stability, for his dad to still be alive, to have someone devoted to him no matter what. That’s why when he saw you all those years ago, he knew you had to be in his life.

The hatred he had towards your brother stemmed from his mother’s toxic whispers planting little nuggets of rumours and lies to make him hate Minhee, yet, as he looks at both of you now, he knows it wasn’t hatred, it was envy. And when Minhee said he couldn’t ask you out when he was a teenager, it fuelled anger in him for hogging you.

Your love and kindness shouldn’t be confined to your brother.

But like you said the other day, Minhee was scared to lose you and Sunghoon understood that feeling all too well now.

Enclosing your hand in his, Sunghoon threads his fingers with yours, longing for contact after his brain even thought about you not being with him, even for a second.

You twist your neck to look at Sunghoon, fondly smiling at him. Watching his eyes shake, you know he’s thinking about something that requires your touch; he always did this, no matter the issue big or small, like having you there was enough for him to brush through the knots in his brain and sort it out.

It felt so amazing to be so needed and loved like this.

Minhee interrupts the silent show of love and points out the windshield, “Looks like they know we’re coming,” he sighs as reporters hover outside the hotel entrance, cameras hanging at their sides while they chat about nothing.

Sunghoon and Minhee are used to this but today is the day they’ll make a spectacle over them. For the first time in history, the two rivals are arriving together and not just that, they’re both a day late. It’s the perfect opportunity for them to sniff around and fabricate some sort of story, you’re just scared of what.

Pulling up to the front of the hotel, the reports poise their camera to get the money shot, they don’t know they’re in for a goldmine,

“Remember, head down, no comments, and just get in there,” Sunghoon instructs, earning a scoff from your brother.

“Nah, you can do that, I’m the pleasant prince, I pander to my audience,” Minhee smiles proudly.

This is where they differ in so many ways, how their brands set them apart. You have to say, you’re surprised Minhee is keeping the Princess Diana brand your mum created considering he hates it so much. Then again, it has created more opportunities for him regarding public events and ads.

Your mum was a witch but she knew what she was doing.

It does pose the big question: where is Mum? Is she already here? There has been zero communication between both of you since the phone audio incident, it was sickening to look at her for too long, not that she was home a lot of the time anyway.

However, right now isn’t about her.

“I think Sunghoon might be right, Mini. They’ll hound you about why you and Hoonie are together,” you put forward, hoping he sees your point. But Minhee is Minhee, he loves being in the spotlight.

“It’s all good, Bubs. I got this,” Minhee pats your head, trying to bounce some reassurance into your brain.

Sunghoon is quick to jump in, “No. Minhee, you keep Y/N safe. There’s no way they won’t push and shove for a picture and if one of them touches her I swear to god, Minhee, it’ll be your head on the hotel pole,” his voice is strong and shoulders are wide and sturdy as he speaks.

You suppress the urge to bite your lip as Sunghoon talks, trying not to give away how much his protectiveness turns you on, although, as much as you’re trying to focus your face on staying neutral, your pussy is meowing out for him, the pants you're wearing sticking to you a little.

“Don’t tell me how to protect my sister, okay, I’ve been with her my whole life, you’ve only got a couple of months under your belt,” Minhee retorts, tone annoyed at the accusation that he would do anything other than put your safety first.

If there was one thing that would make them argue, it’s over you.

“Guys, let's just focus on getting into the lobby, okay? No pandering, and no punching,” you point to them for their retrospective warnings. You seem to be intimidating enough because they fall back from their tense gazes and start to unbuckle their seatbelts.

When you step out, the cameras click rapidly, a few flashes getting in your eyes which Minhee’s hand reaches over to protect you from, one hand wrapped around your shoulder and the other covering your eyes. The shutters are more intense once they see Sunghoon coming around from the other side of the car.

A few gasps and ‘whoas’ can be heard as your boyfriend catches up to you both. As soon as that happens, all hell breaks loose.

Sunghoon! Are you finally changing your ways?

Minhee, did you steer Sunghoon away from his reckless life?

I’d watch out, Minhee, Sunghoon might be after your little sister next.

The last one creates tension between the boys on either side of you, as soon as you’re mentioned they both want to physically leap over and slap the journalist silly. You don’t like the inclination either, the idea that Sunghoon would just use you for his own gratification.

Did the reporter say it outright like that? No, but all three of you knew that’s what he meant.

Minhee gracefully bows and smiles as he leads you through the reporters, thanking the ones who respected your need for space.

Sunghoon, on the other hand, remains cold, his look as frosty as usual, displaying little tolerance for the paparazzi's intrusive behaviour. Despite his apparent displeasure, he followed his own advice: keep a low profile and push ahead.

Once the chaos subsides, Minhee gently withdraws from your side, placing a comforting hand between your shoulder blades as he guides you further into the foyer. The interior wasn’t anything fancy; adorned with beige walls, plush couches occupied by guests, and a reception desk manned by two staff.

“Are you alright?” Minhee’s concern was palpable as he peered into your eyes, searching for any sign of discomfort or vision loss. The flashes were extra bright today.

You shake your head, offering reassurance, “I’m fine, it wasn’t too bad, certainly could have been worse.”

The hotel staff promptly retrieves your luggage from the car, each of your party expressing gratitude. Minhee also hands them a tip, slipping in a signature wink as he did so.

Sunghoon huffs beside you, stroking the back of your head, “Fucking ridiculous. They’re acting like they haven’t seen us before,” he states, the patting of your head getting rougher the more he thinks about it, “Heard one of them call us Blades of Glory.”

Minhee lets out a loud laugh, clapping his hands in amusement. The other boy didn’t find anything funny about the situation.

The receptionist checks you all in, a room for you and Minhee, and a room for Sunghoon. He had a double room to himself since his mum wasn’t coming.

One thing Sunghoon refuses to speak about is his relationship with his mum, as far as you’re concerned, they haven’t spoken since the argument a couple of weeks ago. Sometimes when you look at your boyfriend when he is training, you wish he had her there. He assures you it’s for the best but you do mourn it a little, hoping they could patch up their relationship and start anew with him as her son, and her as his mother; no manager roles and athlete, just family love.

Sunghoon isn’t so sympathetic to the situation. Sure, he misses having her around but that’s just because it’s a habit, plus, she was his manager and having to navigate everything on his own was becoming overwhelming, but he’ll manage.

Sadly, he doesn’t even miss her as a mother figure.

Luckily, you’re all on the same floor just 4 doors apart. Once you reach your respective rooms, you kiss Sunghoon, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to you. His hands run up your back, accidentally picking up your jacket and t-shirt in the process, the feeling of his fingertips leaving a warm trail in their absence.

Sunghoon smiles into the kiss, dipping his tongue into your mouth to taste you. He could do this all day, and some days he has, but this time you have your brother impatiently waiting for you both to untangle yourselves.

“Enough, that’s disgusting,” he retches, fake poking a finger down his throat, “Are you guys always like this or is it your attempt at torturing me?”

Pecking Sunghoon’s lips one more time, you plant your feet back on the ground and face Minhee, “You’re so dramatic. I can kiss my boyfriend whenever I want to,” you sarkily reply.

“Not in front of me you can’t,” he mumbles, face holding an expression of disdain for you and your boyfriend's PDA. He doesn’t protest further, instead unlocking your room and waiting for you to get inside.

Hugging you from the back, Sunghoon leans down, “Come to my room tonight? And the night after, and the night after,” between each request, he kisses your neck, each one lingering a little longer than the last.

The butterflies in your tummy never settle when he’s around and the love in your heart only gets stronger, “I’ll pop in tonight but I promised Minhee I would spend the night before Nationals with him, it’s kind of a thing we have.”

Before every big competition, you and your brother pick a TV show, grab a few face masks and play smash or pass with the cast. You came up with it randomly one night and it stuck ever since, helping him to relax and you to eye up whatever Song Kang drama you manage to persuade him to watch with you.

Nodding, Sunghoon smiles, spinning you to face him, “Sure, makes sense you guys would have a ritual or whatever,” there’s a tiny hint of sadness in his voice which throws you a little.

“I can ask Minhee to swap it to tonight?” you propose but Sunghoon shakes his head quickly.

“No, no. Do your sibling stuff-”

“You’re welcome to come,” Minhee’s voice interjects behind you. It’s strange how quickly Minhee is accepting Sunghoon into your routines and quirks; first it was the song in the car and now this, “You don’t have to but it would suck for you to be on your own the night before a competition.”

You want to ask what happened to your brother and why a clone has taken over his body, but this is exactly what you wanted, so why fight it?

“I don’t know, seems like your thing, I don’t want to just jump into it,” Sunghoon scratches the back of his hand, a habit he has when he’s nervous. In this instance, it’s cute.

“If I’m inviting you, it’s not you ‘jumping in’ is it? Plus, you get to see your precious girl drool over other men right in front of you,” you nudge your brother's stomach with your elbow before explaining to Sunghoon your plans and that you absolutely do NOT fawn over other men.

Everyone knows it’s a lie.

“Then yeah, that sounds good. Thanks, Minhee,” Sunghoon is genuinely appreciative of the offer. He’s never had anyone to do things like this with, usually opting to just rest up and force himself to sleep early.

Minhee nods, “Great, just don’t be all kissy and touchy, it’s gross.”

A ping hits Minhee’s phone and as he reads the message, his once relaxed face turns tense, “It’s mum. Wants to take us out for dinner after the press conference,” he doesn’t bother replying, locking his mobile and stuffing it back in his jean pocket.

You don’t want to go to dinner with her, or even see her. Truthfully, you hoped she just wouldn’t turn up, “Do we have to go?”

The pout on your face is exaggerated, your eyes pleading with Minhee to say fuck it and not go, however, he doesn’t give in to you, “I suppose.”

Looking at Sunghoon, they do that stare again, the same one when they came out from their secret conversation at Belmore. They nod to one another, making you even more confused.

Before you can pipe up and ask, Sunghoon gives you one more kiss, “I’ll see you later, baby,” and with that, he retreats to his hotel room. Your boyfriend was probably your best chance at getting information, Minhee is too strong and wouldn’t slip up as easily, so you leave it to rest, hoping that it’s nothing too serious.

One thing is for certain, you know it’s about your mum.

_____

“Can we steal the soap?” Minhee pops his head around the bathroom door, eyes gleaming with mischief.

You and Minhee are resting up after the press conference. All in all, the reporters asked straightforward enough questions, intrigued by Minhee's secret routine and the promised 'surprise' he hinted at. Of course, you've witnessed the routine firsthand and are eagerly anticipating everyone else to experience it with the same amount of awe as you did.

To your surprise, there were just two questions concerning Sunghoon: one asked whether Minhee and Sunghoon were now friends, and the other asked if Minhee was afraid of his rival. Minhee's reaction to both was a solid 'no', however you think the first answer might change.

You sit up on your bed, rolling your eyes in dismissal of your brother’s question, “No, Mini, we can’t steal the soap.” The one thing about Minhee was that he loved a freebee, and you too honestly but you draw the line on bath soaps that you know no one will use and just collect dust in your toilet back home.

“But if I put it in my case and hide these ones, the staff will need to give us replacements,” he says, showing you the tiny bottle of liquid soap as a way to entice you to agree with him.

"Let me guess, then you'll swipe those too?" you retort, crossing your arms.

Minhee nods eagerly. "Of course!" he says it with such conviction, as if you're missing out on a golden opportunity for more soap.

As you get up, you snatch the bottle from his hand and head to return it to its rightful spot. "I'll just buy you some soap, alright? Let's leave these here. If there's any left, we'll take it home." Sometimes, you feel like you take over the role of your mother when you have these talks with Minhee.

"Fine," he grumbles, flopping onto the mattress. "I'll just ask Sunghoon to swipe me some then."

You whip around at the mention of your boyfriend's name, watching as Minhee starts tapping away on his phone. It's like entering the twilight zone.

"You guys text now?" you ask incredulously, eyebrows raised

“Only for important things,” he mumbles, too busy planning a scheme to get Sunghoon on board with his ideas.

You try to imagine in what world hotel soap is important.

If you could go back in time and tell your younger self that your brother and boyfriend were actually getting along, and not just that, that most of the initiation was from Minhee, you would have cackled in your face. There was no chance in hell of that happening, yet, there is it. All those months of worrying about both of them, the arguments, the fighting, the hatred, all washed away so quickly.

Sunghoon and Minhee aren’t best friends, they tolerate one another; that’s what they are telling themselves at least. Your brother asked for Sunghoon’s number after the conference to ‘keep an eye on him’ but you knew better than that.

Minhee wanted to be his friend because he knew if he did, you would be happy. Everything in his life, he does for you.

A ping sounds from his phone, and a wicked smile spreads across his face, “Ha! See, your boy is on board!” he shows you the text message from Sunghoon which reads ‘If you get the soap, I’ll grab the shampoo and conditioner. We go halfsies?’

“You’re both ridiculous,” you quip, pushing Minhee’s phone away from you.

You can’t deny the warm feeling in your chest as you watch Minhee laugh at his phone, the friendship between them both blossoming in front of your very eyes.

A loud knock on the door startles you both, your hand reaching for your chest at the fright. Was it really necessary for someone to bang the door so ferociously at 5pm, especially when the hotel rooms are already small, echoing the vibrations around the walls?

Minhee stands up, making his way to answer rudely to the person on the other side for almost giving him a heart attack; however, when he opens the door, the last person on earth you want to see barges through your door.

“Ugh, can you believe they’ve put me in a room on the other side of the hotel away from you? Took me 10 minutes just to get here,” your mum huffs, blowing her fringe out of her flushed face. She looks like she’s just run the London Marathon, not walked across a lobby and rode the lift.

It’s amazing how one woman can change the atmosphere of the room. The once happy and carefree vibe you and Minhee were basking in has now been sucked out, replaced with a heavy cloud of anguish.

There’s an anxiety creeping up into your chest as you face your mum for the first time since that day. You were unequipped to handle the situation because of her sudden presence, thinking you would at least have a few hours before she requested you for dinner.

But she’s here, right now, and you have to face this head-on.

She clasps her hands together and spins to face Minhee and yourself, “I have news,” she exclaims, delighted with whatever information she is about to share.

A quick glance at Minhee and you both share the same sceptical expression. He steps closer to you, hoping that you can find some comfort in his presence, which you do but this is also your conniving mother you’re both faced with, anything can fall past her lips, and that makes this ten times more nerve wracking.

“After Sunghoon pulled that god-awful scheme - so sorry, Y/N,” her words speak of condolences yet her tone is anything but sympathetic, “I have found something else.” The delight on her face makes you feel sick. You know Mrs. Park is the biggest cause for this rivalry, so why is she so intent on bringing Sunghoon down to the lowest pits of hell and back?

You nor Minhee have told your mum that you know the audio of Sunghoon was AI-generated, or that you and Sunghoon are back to being as in love with each other as ever, in fact, she might have brought you closer together. Her little plan actually got you and Sunghoon to promise to be one hundred percent honest with each other, especially about your feelings for one another.

Sunghoon meant it when he said he wanted to start fresh, a clean slate, but for him that just meant professing his love to you all over again, determined to make sure you never doubted his true intentions for you ever again. Of course, you did the same, telling him how you would trust him and your relationship before anything else because why on earth do you have any reason not to?

“What are you talking about?” Minhee is the first to speak between you, taking the lead as your bigger brother. He didn’t know what she had up her sleeve but he wouldn’t believe a spoken syllable that came from her mouth; not anymore.

Happily, your mother picks out her phone from her handbag and searches for something. There is a sickening feeling rising in your stomach again, the deja vu washing over you. Minhee senses your unease and rubs your back softly, and as you turn your attention to him, he shakes his head, assuring you that whatever you are going to see will be fabricated.

However, as she passes your brother the phone, you see a video waiting to load and see a familiar-looking lawn.

Oh no.

As Minhee hits play, you see Sunghoon’s fist connect with that boy's face, the same boy that touched you, the night you called him to come get you. The sickness that had stilled before has now reached the tip of your throat, your heart pounding outside your chest only making it boil more.

This is real, this isn’t fake.

The scene in the video is so strange because as you hear your cries for him to stop, you don’t remember it that well. You knew he punched fuck out of the guy but you hadn’t really visually recalled it in your memory, yet, it was like living the feeling all over again.

Your brother watches the video with the same shock and horror as you do, except, he is more concerned by your shrieks in the background. When was this? He ponders to himself, confused as he continues to see Sunghoon beat the boy down. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought Sunghoon killed him. Fuck, he genuinely might have as far as Minhee is concerned.

He recognises the boy in the video, having had a few altercations with Yeonjun and his team himself over the years, so he knows that whatever caused this ruthless beating, it was probably something bad.

“W-where did you get this?” you ask tentatively. If your mother has seen it, anyone could have.

With a glint of victory, she answers, “Facebook of all places! I was just scrolling and someone shared it,” she shrugs, leaving you to battle with the information that your boyfriend's attempt to protect you might be the very cause of his downfall. You recall something he said not too long ago,

“Everything wrong in my life seems to be because of your family.”

Sunghoon spoke those words and you knew they were true, yet, you hoped it excluded you, but this just proves you’re just as bad as your mother.

Minhee feels your distress beside him, your body shaking slightly as you continue to watch the video. He doesn’t know what happened or why but he knows you’re traumatised by it. He stops the video, locking the phone abruptly, “Mum, what does this have to do with anything? This is just a video of him punching that guy from the hockey team,” Minhee tries to downplay it, hoping and praying your mum hasn’t already done something drastic with the video.

“I’m taking it to the board, obviously. He can’t get away with causing violence,” your mum speaks. You take the time in the silence that surrounds the room to wonder if she would be so eager to share the video if she knew why Sunghoon was on his knees, beating the guy to a pulp.

Minhee shakes his head definitely, “No, mum, you’re not,” his voice wavers; this is the first time he has stood up to your mum in such a long time. Her claws were usually so deep into your brother that he stood back and took it, but not any more.

“Huh?” your mum asks perplexed, head tilted to the side in curiosity, “Don’t you see, Minhee, this is how we guarantee you the win, they might let him skate but nullify his points. Remember what we have on the line,” she tries to be secretive but you already know what she’s talking about.

“Stop! Just stop trying to interfere with this, with my skating, with the Parks. Just fucking stop.” The sudden rise in Minhee’s voice makes you jump but he is quick to rub your back again, trying to prove his determination to make this right, for all the times he let her puppeteer him into doing her dirt work.

He breathes out, “I told Y/N everything, and I told Sunghoon. We also know that the phone call was fake and that you’re nothing but a pathetic excuse for a mother,” his voice is venomous, the words harshly leaving his mouth.

Your mum is silent, not even her breath can be heard amidst Minhee’s speech, “You’ve done nothing but hurt us since dad left, constantly blaming me for putting you in debt, never acknowledging your daughter or any of her achievements. I won’t stand here and let you do this anymore.”

“But Minhee-”

“No, you listen to me. I will win on Saturday and when I do, take all the money you get from this shitty bet and fuck off out of our lives, understood?” You stare at the ground with wide eyes, scared to look up and see the anger in Minhee’s face, his voice being scary enough.

It’s unlike your brother to get this angry, you thought the extent of his rage peaked when he confronted you about your relationship with Sunghoon. But this is much worse, more dangerous.

Then again, this is also years of being told you owe your career and livelihood to someone who only uses it against you would also take its toll on you.

Sucking in a breath, your mum moves forward, “What are you talking about, baby boy. I’m your mother,” she tries to soften him up but it won’t work. He’s too far gone in his rage.

“No, you’re not. From this point on, you’re no one’s mum. When you get your winnings, take them and never speak to me or Y/N again. I am sick to the back teeth of you putting unnecessary pressure on me, getting me involved in all this mess with Sunghoon. Not to mention how you’ve been treating Y/N the past few months.”

“You can’t kick me out of my own family!” she protests, all acts of sorrow gone in a flash, replaced with fury.

“I just have. I’m moving out, I’m taking Y/N with me, and this is the last you will see us,” Minhee’s chest is closing in on itself as he finally loses all cool, ready to give your mum everything that’s been waiting for her.

Exhaling, your mum yields, nodding disapprovingly, “You make sure I get my money. You brats deserve nothing considering the life I provided for you both.”

That last sentence confirmed everything you two already knew, it was always about the money. Part of you wonders if it was always about the money, or if that was just something at came along the way. For your peace of mind, you hope it’s the latter.

Despite her ways, you like to believe she did love you guys at some point, and deep down still does.

The tension in the room is so thick, it’s choking you, causing you to clam up and stay silent. You want to say so much; how she never gave you both anything, that it was your dad who set you both up with your lives, how she took away your happiness and put the relationship with the love of your life in jeopardy. You wanted to shout and scream at her, but it was useless. She won’t listen, her face beat red.

Without uttering another word, she goes to leave the room, snatching her phone back, but Minhee isn’t done, “Oh, and don’t think for a second of showing that video to any of the skating board, or else I’ll turn myself in about Sunghoon’s skate and tell the police exactly what you’ve been up to.”

Both you and your mother exchange fearful glances – you, worried for Minhee's cherished career, and your mother, concerned about her potential loss of status and wealth.

Clicking her tongue in irritation, your mother scoffs, shaking her head. "You wouldn’t dare," she argues, trying to convince herself as much as her son.

"Try me. I have nothing left to lose," he retorts.

"You wouldn’t sacrifice your Olympic dreams," she counters smugly, believing she's won the argument.

"I would sacrifice anything for my sister's happiness, a concept you clearly can't grasp."

Your eyes fill with emotion as Minhee's words sink in. Could he really be prepared to give up his dream just to protect you from your mother? To safeguard you from any potential harm. As you lock eyes with your brother, a deep realisation sweeps over you: absolutely, he would.

Your mother walks out of the room in a disappointed huff, leaving behind a heavy atmosphere packed with unresolved tension. Left alone with Minhee, you both silently battle with the weight of the dramatic event that just took place, processing it all in your own way.

As the echoes of your mother's departure fade, a solemn stillness settles over the room, punctuated only by the sound of your shared breaths. You and Minhee exchange a wordless glance, each grappling with the weight of the confrontation that has unfolded.

“The video…you were there. What the fuck was that about?” Minhee questions, his voice not quite accusatory, but still webbed in anger. Honestly, you should have expected it, the bloody scene would be a cause of concern to anyone and after he just said he vowed to protect you, he wanted to know how this situation arose.

"It was a party, about three or four months ago, I think," you begin, weighing your words carefully as you try to gauge how much to reveal to Minhee. Your brother is already teetering on the edge of adrenaline-fueled rage, and recounting the details of Heosun's unwelcome advances towards you doesn't seem like the best idea in the current tense atmosphere.

Minhee listens attentively, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern. "Go on," he prompts gently, sensing the weight of your hesitation.

Taking a deep breath, you continue, "There was this guy who wouldn't leave me alone, and Sunghoon came to pick me up, and well, you saw what happened." You lower your gaze, feeling a pang of shame at the memory of the chaos that ensued that night.

Now, with your mother's hands all over the incriminating video, you feel the weight of the burden resting heavily on your shoulders. If she were to show anyone that footage, it could spell the end of Sunghoon's career – all because of the consequences of your past decisions.

Despite Sunghoon's reassurances that none of it was your fault, the guilt gnaws at you relentlessly. It's one thing to hear those words, but it's another to truly believe them, especially in the face of such dire consequences.

Minhee can feel your body tremble and it softens his mood, his brotherly instincts taking charge over his anger. He pulls you in for a hug, scratching the back of your head to soothe your thoughts.

“I would say I’d kill that hockey player if I wasn’t convinced Sunghoon’s already taken care of it,” he chuckles at his attempt to lighten the mood, but your overthinking is taking hold of you, scared for what will happen.

Knowing you your whole life, Minhee knows what your brain is doing right now, “Hey, you aren’t to blame for any of this. Heosun is the one to blame for trying to take advantage of you,” his fingers dig into your scalp as he says the crime out loud. He can’t stand that he wasn’t there for you during your time of need.

However, he is thankful Sunghoon was there.

He leans back to look at you, your eyes glazed over with thoughts. Patting your head, he tries to reason with your mind, “You can’t let mum’s manipulation make you feel responsible for all of this. Sunghoon is a grown man and he made his choices,” he sees his words infiltrating your doubt, like a soldier breaking down the gate to the castle, “He did what anyone would have done.”

You manage a weak smile, grateful for his support even as the guilt continues to run through you, "I know, but... what if I could have handled things differently?" you mumble, the weight of self-blame heavy in your voice.

Minhee shakes his head, his eyes filled with conviction, “Don’t do that, Bubs. You did everything you could, I believe that.”

His words provide a glimmer of consolation amidst the disarray of your thoughts. For a minute, you allow yourself to lean into his calming presence, drawing strength from your brother's support.

You both sit in silence for a while, needing to calm down from your emotions. The whole ordeal has led you away from a pivotal point in his conversation with your mum, something that you wanted to question.

“What if you don’t win?” you pull your head from his chest, looking up at him concerned. If he doesn’t win, there’s no knowing what your mum might do. She would lose far too much money just to let it slide, not to mention the vendetta she probably has against Minhee after his harsh words.

Calmly, he smiles, “I’ve got it covered, don’t worry.” With a kiss on the top of your head, he releases you from his grip. It’s a clear indication that he doesn’t want to push this conversation any further.

But you can’t help but be concerned.

_____

Pressing your key card to the door, you walk in and instantly hear laughter coming from Minhee and Sunghoon. The sound fills you with a sense of relief, worried that your absence from the hotel room to grab some snacks from the shop down the street was enough time for them to start arguing and throwing punches.

You really should have had more faith in them, particularly after the car journey, yet, you still have a horrible feeling that settles inside your chest because it’s all going too perfectly.

Minhee is doubled over, face red from laughter while Sunghoon’s eyes are wide, an incredulous smile smacked across his features. It’s amazing how well they shine together when they don’t have their mothers putting the weight on their shoulders, forcing them into unhealthy competition.

“She padded it so much to impress you, it was hilarious!” you hear Minhee cackle as he speaks as you shut the door behind you. They haven’t noticed your presence, too caught up in the hilarity of their conversation.

Sunghoon lets out a ‘huh’ in realisation, “That’s what that was? I was so confused, I thought she had a reaction to something,” he chuckles, still processing whatever information Minhee was divulging.

The atmosphere is light, making you smile widely as you walk further into the hotel room, “What are you guys talking about?”

Turning to face you, both boys burst into another fit of laughter as soon as they see you. It makes you self-conscious, suddenly making you wish you checked yourself in the lift mirror before coming back.

Minhee wipes a tear from his eye before letting you in on their little secret, “I told him how you stuffed your bra with tissue paper trying to impress him,” he points his head to Sunghoon who is currently rolling on the bed in stitches.

The memory flashes in your mind as your face falls. You were young, foolish, and watched 13 going on 30 a little too much; it was a stupid idea. In your defence, a rumour was circulating that Sunghoon’s ideal type was someone like Irene from Red Velvet and she was so perfect you tried to look like her, stuffed bra and all.

You stand traumatised for a minute as you start to vividly recall the way your tissue boobs must have looked to everyone else, “Oh my…god! Can you guys shut up, I was like 12,” you groan hiding your face behind the bags of starburst and skittles.

“You didn’t even need a bra,” Minhee argues back, clearly enjoying the torment his story is providing you, “It’s my brotherly duty to tell your boyfriend all the embarrassing stories I have about you,” he’s smug, lips upturned in a grin.

Forcefully, you toss his sweets at his head, aiming for pain. But Minhee has fast reflexes and dodges it easily. Out of all the stories to tell, why did it have to be that one? Couldn’t it have been the one where you accidentally vomited all over him after he punched you too hard in the chest or that time you wrote a marriage proposal to Niall Horan and even set a date. Anything but the padded bra.

Sunghoon is still laughing, also reminiscing about that day, however, he isn’t so embarrassed. To be honest, he didn’t pay much attention, and he certainly didn’t know it was to impress him. Knowing it now only gives him more reason to be completely in love with you because even at 12, you wanted to be with him so much you were willing to change for him.

But he never wants you to change. Not ever.

“I honestly can’t believe you thought that would impress me,” he starts to calm down, beaming up at you; however, he is just as guilty for laughing, so you throw the last packet of sweets at his head. He isn’t so used to avoiding flying objects and you hit him straight on his nose, “Okay, ow!” he winces dramatically.

Sometimes you forget Sunghoon is an only child and didn’t have the sibling reflex, “Shit, I’m sorry, Hoon,” you apologise, leaning down to assess the damage but before you get too close, Sunghoon bursts into laughter once again. Slapping his chest you sit next to him, disgruntled.

Once he has composed himself, he sits up and pulls you into his side, kissing the top of your head, “Honestly, I think it’s kind of cute,” he whispers into your hair, trying to ease your brass neck. You can’t help but smile at his words, glad that he didn’t see you as some pathetic little girl.

You fail to understand that Sunghoon could never perceive you as anything other than perfect. Sure, no one actually is flawless, but you’re pretty close in his eyes; you’re perfect for him.

“Okay, I will stop telling stories if you guys stop acting so mushy,” Minhee relents, opening his packet of Skittles.

Tilting your head up, you place a soft kiss on Sunghoon’s lips, just to add a little torment to your brother which works because he’s fake gagging on his bed. He’s so dramatic but you’ll take the teasing over him holding a grudge about your relationship.

“I love you,” Sunghoon whispers tenderly, his hand squeezing your soft side, “padded bra and all.”

“Shut up, oh my god,” you push him away playfully, trying to act annoyed but it doesn’t really work, you can’t stay angry at him for longer than a day - your entire relationship journey has proven that; even when you fight, big or small, you always find your way back to one another quickly.

You don’t mean to think so seriously in such a lighthearted moment, but you can’t help but be thankful for everything that has transpired. There are times you want to start over completely, not lie to your brother, stick up to your mum, skip the whole ‘friends with benefits’ deal and just be with one another completely. But in truth, it’s just made your relationship stronger, both of you releasing that there isn’t a day you both don’t want to be together.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, Sweets?” he asks in a whisper, petting you with love.

You shake your head, “Nothing, just happy. That’s all.” And it was the truth, you’ve never been more content with anything in your life.

Minhee clears his throat, “Guys, seriously. Glad you’re all in love but can we pick a show now?”

Sunghoon and you shuffle to sit on your bed, getting comfy as Minhee flicks through the TV section on Netflix and when you and your brother both see My Demon in recently added, you both turn to one another, smiling brightly.

Your boyfriend isn’t completely aware of your obsession with Song Kang, but he is about to find out.

_____

As the hours go by, face masks have been done and subsequently making the whole room smell of paella and vanilla, you begin to hear Minhee snoring on the other bed; you’re 5 episodes into My Demon and clearly, he has had enough. Fair enough, it is reaching midnight and he is up extremely early tomorrow, but so is Sunghoon and he is wide awake, not caring about his beauty sleep one bit.

In fact, he has started caressing your thigh a bit too close to a certain area. All night he’s found some way to touch you, either a hug, spooning you, or grazing his fingers over any skin that isn’t covered. Luckily for him, your shorts have ridden up just enough to leave the tops and inners of your thighs exposed.

You push his hand away, “Mini is right there,” you speak lowly, trying to caution him off but Sunghoon couldn’t care less, only tracing up further to your core.

“He’s sleeping,” he argues back as he spares a quick glance to a passed-out Minhee.

Honestly, he was so sick of you melting when Song Kang popped up on the TV, he’s not afraid to admit that he’s jealous. Every time you held in a squeal as the actor smiled or had his top off, he knew he had to get you back to reality, back to the time when all you saw was him. It was childish but he doesn’t bother to worry about that, knowing you like it when he’s a bit possessive and clingy.

You sit up straight to face him, eyes flashing in warning, “He could wake up,” you’re trying to reason with him but his face doesn’t show any sense of understanding of how badly this scenario could end. You’ll do a lot with Sunghoon but fucking him while your brother is in the room is a hard pass. He was insatiable, you always knew it, you just thought he had some decorum when it came to having sex in front of family.

Smirking, Sunghoon rolls his eyes, “With how loud you are, he probably would wake up.” Teasing you isn’t the best approach for getting what he wants, he sees that in your peeved expression, “Fine, how about we go to my hotel room?” he offers as a solution.

With his fingers now dancing along the top of your pussy, you quickly agree, already standing up and pulling him out of the room, making sure the door doesn’t slam shut.

Once you both enter his room, he wastes no time, kissing you roughly like he has been wanting to do since you changed into your little pyjamas. The heat from his body is a telltale sign that he’s ready to just ravish you as soon as he gets you naked.

And that he does, stripping you of any material you have on and pushing you onto the bed. You’re a vision in front of him, some hickeys and bruises scattered over your body from the last time you had sex, which in Sunghoon’s mind, was far too long ago.

With hungry eyes, you watch as he sheds his own clothing, revealing his arousal as he strokes himself slowly. Your breath catches in anticipation, craving the feel of him inside you, the throbbing intensity of his desire mirrored in you.

“I’ve got a surprise,” he says suddenly, licking his lips mischievously.

You lean on your elbows, confused by his words, “What kind of surprise?”

Holding a finger up, he bends down to his suitcase, rummaging through it to find something, only making you more curious, “It’s in here somewhere,” he states more to himself than you, his smile widening as he comes across something, “There you are.”

As he stands back up, you look into his hand and your jaw hits the floor, “Where did you get that?”

Sunghoon stands proud as punch as he twirls the pink rose toy in his right hand, smiling at it happily, “I know a thing or two, Sweets.”

You had your own rose toy at home, literally more prized than the award you won a few months ago. It’s your saviour when you’re too stressed or just craving some release when Sunghoon isn’t readily available. You hadn’t told him about it, so you’re a little shocked he had one.

It also looked much better than yours so you’re going to have to sneak it into your bag before you all leave on Sunday.

Snaking his way to you, he shows you it up close, “Y’know, I used to think these toys were the enemy, taking away something from me,” he pauses, spitting on the top of it, rubbing his saliva into the creases of the rose petals, “But then I thought, it could really be an asset.”

Pressing the power button on, the machine starts to vibrate and suck in air, making you swallow dryly in anticipation. You knew how good it felt when you used it on your own so you can only imagine the power it holds in Sunghoon’s hands.

Sleeking it to your folds, he wastes no time in pressing it directly on your clit, wiggling it around to make sure he has it on your sweet point. As you gasp and fall flat on the bed, he knows he’s found it.

Sunghoon knows how it works but this is admittedly his first time seeing it in action and by God was he glad he stumbled across it on Twitter. The way you’re already wriggling under its suck is causing his cock to jump straight up in arousal. This is such a nice change for him, to see how your tits move from side to side as your body responds to the sensation on your clit, your mouth falling open so beautifully as whimpers escape. Normally, he’s got a different view, his head buried where the rose toy is right now; he’ll need to find more ways to witness you from this angle.

“Hoon! It’s-” You don’t get to finish your sentence as he loosens the toy which only makes it suck your clit up harder. What you were going to say is that it’s already got you close, the mix of the vibration and everything else proving a bit too much.

Typically, when you use the toy back home, it’s a 5-minute job, the flower living up to its hype, and now is no exception. But there’s something even more arousing about your boyfriend being in control of it all. If it got a little intense, you could normally pull it away of your own accord, but with Sunghoon in control, you don’t have that luxury; you need to power through the fire that is burning within your nub.

Seeing you close, he licks and bites his bottom lip, thinking of how he can take credit for some of this climax, rather than congratulations only being on the vibrating machine in his hand. He suddenly shoves three of his fingers into his mouth, gathering his spit onto them before brushing them along your hole.

The rose already has you super wet so it’s easy for him to slide his digits right in, getting to work on finding your spongy spot, the very spot that he always curls into and gets you cumming.

With the addition of Sunghoon’s fingers, your eyes roll to the back of your head, only the whites of your eyes visible. It’s intense and you’re going to cum so hard over his fingers you might genuinely be spent after this one orgasm.

Like a crash, you cry out his name, chanting a few swear words for punctuation as you cum. Your clit throbs and puffs out as you orgasm, only making the toy have more to suck and pulse onto. It’s like heaven and hell all came at once, not sure if the pleasure outdoes the pain or vice versa. To be fair, the pain isn’t excruciating, you just feel yourself being overstimulated by the rosebud and Sunghoon’s fingers which isn’t a bad thing, just takes some time to adjust.

Sunghoon’s fingers thrust into you fast, each time he drags it out, more of your essence is left on the hotel covers, painting them a darker shade of ivory. He thinks it’s a waste, how the bedsheets get to soak up your juices when it should be his tongue, but he can’t change up the pace now, your body speaking the words you can’t. You’re enjoying this far too much.

“Sunghoon, please!” you whine while your body instinctively tries to retreat from his touch to find relief.

“You want something, baby?” he asks so innocently, his fingers still thrusting into you with velocity, “Use that pretty mouth of yours.”

He sits on his knees, looking down at you to wait for your response, one he knows will take all your strength to muster. You’re a sight to behold; eyes screwed shut as you try to work through the overstimulation yet your mouth breathing out loud moans.

“Cock,” is the only word you can say, so drunk on the pleasure that you’re practically dumb in lust, not a thought in your brain other than getting fucked by Sunghoon’s thick cock.

He laughs lightly, shaking his head, “You want my cock?” your boyfriend’s ego is already big but when he gets you into bed, it increases tenfold. He adores that you want him and his body just as much as he wants yours.

“Fuck, yes, Hoonie, please,” you beg, trying to remove both his hands so he’ll just slip into you.

“You’re so fucking irresistible,” he says huskily, his heart swelling in his chest with pride.

However, what you want him to do is remove the toy with his fingers, which is clearly a pipe dream since the next thing that happens makes you scream.

His fingers are replaced with his long cock, but he doesn’t remove the toy from your aching nub, rather, moving it even more directly over you, dancing it along with your body as you try to get away. He’s being so cruel to you, causing this torment of excessive stimulation.

Sunghoon doesn’t see it that way though, he knows when you finally relax and ride through the burning, you’ll be begging him to keep going. Also, with every thrust of his cock into your tight pussy, he gets a jolt of vibration hitting the end of his shaft, giving him a new sense of pleasure.

He hasn’t ever used toys on himself, his hand and you being all he needs, but he might just have to find a few new ways to incorporate some toys into the mix. Perhaps he can convince you to let him use a massager in the future.

Jackhammering into you, he throws his head back, getting lost in the feeling of your walls slamming down on him. Your body is busily thrashing beneath him, only giving the tip of his member new areas to get in amongst.

“You feel so fucking good, Sweets,” he groans out, only going faster and deeper into you. The toy is an excellent companion, however, it’s limiting his horsepower, wishing he could just bend you in half and drive into you with no mercy.

Finally, he takes the flower from your clit, and your body instantly relaxes. The cold air whisking over your hot pussy is like breathing in fresh air after being in a stuffy room for too long; it’s heaven.

It doesn’t take Sunghoon long to find a new purpose for it though, placing it over one of your hardened nipples, “Hold that there for me, baby,” he asks, making sure that your nipple is full inside the hole of the toy. You feel the vibrating all the way up to your jaw, but you oblige, anything for him to fuck you like he always does.

Getting into a new position, he finds a new harsher rhythm, his pointed thrusts snapping into you with the purpose of getting you both off. Sunghoon’s entire body is rocking, the bed squeaking lousy under you both, only drowned out by the clusters of your moans.

Before you know it, you’re cumming again, this time, you think you’re going to squirt all over him, the feeling of release far too intense to be a normal few sprits that will coat his cock. Instead, you roar loudly, like no noise you’ve ever made before, one of those groans that comes straight from your toes and through your chest. You lose grip of the toy and focus on finding anything to anchor onto, scared you might float away with your second climax.

Hearing you cry out erupts a drive in him, his hips moving into you just as you like it. Flinging your legs over his shoulders, he grabs both of your hands in his and piledrives into you, his lips finding yours in a fevered kiss.

You can tell he’s close too, the heavy rise and fall in his chest a dead giveaway. His cock is leaking cum into you in short bursts, causing his hips to jerk quickly into you, almost like he’s trying to make sure his dick is stuck inside you as deep as it can possibly go.

“Fuck, fuck,” he chants, a little bit of drool falling from his lips which you gladly lick up before slipping your tongue into his mouth. Sunghoon can’t stop cumming inside you, each time he thinks he’s finished, a few more ropes escape him.

You can feel both of your cum running down your ass cheeks, the escaping liquid running hot as Sunghoon musters up any energy he has left to hold himself above you, “I think I might have set a new record for how much cum can spill from a man,” he laughs, giving you eskimo kisses.

Reaching over, you turn the rose toy off, leaving the room filled with only your intertwined heavy breaths and laughter. You feel so happy in this moment that you could honestly die happily right now.

Sunghoon climbs off you, pulling you up with him, leaving a gentle his on your forehead before disappearing into the bathroom to find something to clean you both with. You lean over the bed, finding one of his t-shirts sitting in his suitcase and putting it on your spent body. The best part of spending any form of time with Sunghoon is stealing his clothes.

Walking back in with a face cloth, he wipes your pussy and thighs down, his fingers fishing out any cum remnants left. The sudden curling of his finger makes you clench again, “Sorry, Sweets. That was just a lot of cum, need to make sure it’s all out,” he whispers.

“I’ll go pee, that’ll help,” you say back, pushing him away to give you a pathway off the bed to excuse yourself to the toilet.

While you’re in there, he tidies up and puts on some fresh boxers, his cock still softening from the intensity of the fucking it just had. As he picks up the rose toy he smiles, chucking it into his case with a promise to use it at least once more before you leave.

“Tomorrow is a big day, huh?” your voice travels from the bathroom as you wash your hands.

“I suppose so,” Sunghoon responds, a little too nonchalant.

He should be nervous, it’s a massive competition that is broadcast to thousands. Sure, he has done this a few times but surely with the ankle injury, he should be a bit apprehensive about going out there.

You climb onto the bed and sit on his lap, arms circling his neck, “Why don’t you seem worried about this?” you ask, playing with the ends of his dampened hair.

In response, he shrugs, “I’m the number one skater, why should I be?” This isn’t his normal cocky attitude, this is something else. He knows something that he’s not telling you.

And you’ll be damned if you’re kept in the dark about another thing.

“Tell me the truth, Sunghoon. We promised not to lie to one another anymore.”

“It’s not lying if I just withhold information,” he replies, his lips trying to distract you as they pepper kisses up your neck and behind your ear.

But you push him away before you do get too into it, “That wasn’t the case when I ‘withheld information’ about Minhee breaking your skate,” you retort, hating to bring up the past but when push comes to shove, you’ll do it.

Closing his eyes, he nods in understanding. Sunghoon knows you’re right, you don’t deserve to be in the dark, “I’m throwing the competition tomorrow.”

The room goes quiet as you process his words. At this moment, you feel a sense of burden creeping back onto your body, “What do you mean throwing it? You haven’t lost a competition like this since you turned 16.” He isn’t the Nation’s best skater for nothing, he’s proved time and time again that he’s not to be underestimated.

Suddenly, the conversation with his mum pops back into your head for some reason. Her lack of acknowledgement of Sunghoon’s talents must have been with him for so long - fuck, they might still be with him. Maybe he’s throwing it in defiance?

He sees you think it over and over before he finally interjects, “I’ll still place top 3, Sweets. I’m just making sure he comes first, that’s all.”

“Why would you do that? You know if he finds out, he’ll be livid.” You can’t imagine Minhee ever wishing Sunghoon to yield it so easily, your brother worked too hard to perfect his routine to win by some giveaway.

“Okay,” he breathes out, knowing this conversation is about to get a little difficult, “We both decided it, actually. That day we went into the coach's office? Yeah, that’s what he wanted to talk to me about.”

“You want me to what?” Sunghoon asks, accompanied by a scoff.

Minhee bites his tongue from making any rash comment, needing the other skater on his side for his plan to work, “I want you to throw Nationals.”

Letting a venomous laugh out, Sunghoon shakes his head in disbelief, “You’re seriously asking me to purposefully lose at Nationals after everything you’ve done to me? To Y/N? You can forget it.”

Storming off, Sunghoon can barely reach the door before Minhee swings him back around to face him, a fire in his eyes that Sunghoon has never seen before, “Look, this isn’t for me. It’s for Y/N.”

“Yeah of cours-”

“Let me fucking finish, Park,” Minhee snaps, his voice raised and arm gripping Sunghoon a little rougher, “Y/N told you about our mum, how she has stakes on me winning?” he waits to make sure you did actually have such a conversation with your boyfriend, to which Sunghoon nods, waiting for your brother to continue, “If I win, she gets a boat load of money, it’s all illegal and there are rules and stakes that I don’t even know the full detail of but either way, she’s playing it dirty with some big bosses. She took money from some guys to put the bets on, y’know?”

Minhee’s explanation isn’t convincing his counterpart, wondering where you come into this, “I don’t hear Y/N’s name in this. If your mum has a gambling addiction, that’s between her and the guys she’s fucking over, not my girl.”

“The bets are in Y/N’s name.”

“What?” Sunghoon yanks his arm from his grasp, stepping back a little, “You mean she’s tied up in all of this?”

Nodding, Minhee feels the familiar boil of rage within him. He still can’t fully comprehend how his mother could do this to you, she is meant to look after you, not cause you harm, “I know, it’s fucked. If mum loses these bets, guess who everyone is going to be gunning for?”

Sunghoon’s heart quickens, the thought of you being in danger is making him feel sick and the words hang heavily in the air between the two people who love you the most. Your entanglement within this mess of a web was the last thing Sunghoon thought Minhee would say.

“So if you win, and she gets the money…”

“Then they get their cut. Happy days, my sister is no longer in danger,” Minhee rubs his temples, trying to give his brain a moment to gather itself before he divulges the rest, “I’m telling you this because I know you love her and as I said, you’d be doing this for her.”

There is so much to think about that Sunghoon’s brain is sparking out a little, but one thing is for certain, he is going to do everything in his power to protect you, “Fine. I’ll lose. But how do we know your mum won’t do something else?”

“I don’t,” Minhee confesses truthfully. He has no idea if she’ll even give the men their cut once he wins, “I’m gonna tell her that I know about her gambling and the illegality of it all, hope that scares her enough to not try and fuck any of us over, y’know?”

“That’s all you’re going to do? The love of my life is out there with a target on her back and you’re just going with a presumption that she’ll back off by a threat?” There is steam coming from Sunghoon’s head and his fists are balled up in rage. This isn’t something to be taken lightly.

Minhee holds in his frustration, knowing Sunghoon is only looking out for you, but the lack of faith in him is making it increasingly difficult to keep his cool, “She might be your girlfriend, but she’s my sister, alright. I have been doing everything in my willpower to keep her safe since we were little…Listen, I know my mum, she’s scared and I can see it. She’s way deeper into this than she knows how to deal with, she wants that money and to get away from those gambling sharks, yeah? My mum won’t do anything like this again, I feel it.”

It’s a hunch, a loose, untrusted huch, but it’s all he’s got. He just wants to protect you right here and now. If your mum stoops low enough to bring you back into a mess like this, he’ll sort it when the time comes.

Seeing Minhee’s resolve, the raven-haired boy retracts, calming down. He knows Minhee is trying his best, and if he can keep you out of immediate danger by coming in second at a competition, he will gladly do it.

You sit still, processing the bomb that has just been dropped on you. The gambles being in your name is something you had no idea about, hence why they probably didn’t tell you about this grand plan.

What does someone even do in this situation?

Sunghoon rubs your arm reassuringly, trying to get you to speak or even make a noise of acknowledgement. He can’t imagine how difficult it must be to hear this for the first time but he knew that he couldn’t tell you; if he let you in on Minhee and his secret, you would have tried to solve the problem yourself, to help everyone else in the situation as best you can, and he couldn’t watch you do that, not when none of this was your fault.

“Don’t throw it,” you say firmly.

Sunghoon freezes, his hand stilling on your arm as he looks at you, surprise evident in his eyes. He hadn't expected those to be the first words to break the heavy silence that enveloped the room, “What the fuck are you talking about? Are you crazy?”

Perhaps you are, but you can’t watch anyone sacrifice their livelihood, especially a chance of gold at Nationals, just for you. It’s selfish, on both your part and your mother's. No, you didn’t ask to be put in this situation, but there was something you could do now.

Unfortunately, this is what Sunghoon was afraid of.

“You saw Minhee’s skate, he’s phenomenal. I want him to win this properly,” you confess quietly, still struggling with the information relayed to you only minutes ago.

“What about your mum? Sweets, this is a full-proof plan to get you both away from your mum, to let you both live without her mess,” his left hand cradles your cheek as he moves closer to you, as if hearing the solution from a closer distance would suddenly help change your mind.

It won’t, you’re determined to have this conversation end your way the only option forward is, “Please, Hoonie. If he loses, we will deal with it…but I believe in Mini so much, especially after seeing the rehearsal a few weeks ago. I want him to know he can win this on his own merit.” Your eyes search for any ounce of understanding.

Sunghoon's brow furrows in frustration, his mind racing with the weight of the decision before you both. He wants nothing more than to protect you, to shield you from harm, but he also knows that he doesn’t want to upset you and go against your wishes.

Taking a deep breath, he presses a tender kiss to your forehead, his embrace offering silent reassurance and support. "Okay," he says finally, his voice tinged with resignation. "We'll do it your way. I won’t throw the competition but ONLY if he does well. He’s on before me on the card so I’ll make the call then,” he can barely believe he’s agreeing to this.

A mixture of relief and fear wash over you. You understand the gravity of his concession, knowing that it's not an easy decision for him to make. It fills you with gratitude that he actually listened to you.

"Thank you, Hoonie," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath as you lean into his embrace, seeking solace in his comforting presence. "I promise, we'll figure this out together. And Minhee... he'll do amazing, I just know it.”

The belief you have in your brother is something Sunghoon only wished for growing up, seeing how determined you are to make sure Minhee knows he’s talented enough to win and solve this mess by just being good at what he does makes your boyfriend a little envious. He knows why Minhee is so protective of you, but now seeing how you protect and only do the right thing for one another, putting your sibling before anything else, it’s admirable.

“What time is he on?” you ask, twiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“2:35pm. I’m on at 3:45pm so I’ll see the scores and whatever in plenty of time to determine what to do.” There is a new sense of life in Sunghoon, certain that no matter what happens tomorrow, he’s going to make sure you and Minhee walk out happily, with no worries perched on your shoulders.

taglist (closed!!): @heelee-01 @zerasari @beomgyusonlywife @iwaplant @monstanctiny21 @chiiiiiiiiis @minniejenseo @run2gyuz @jngwnlvs @haelahoops @capri-cuntz @nctislifue @jaehoonii @weyukinluv @skzenhalove @enhypenlovre @cherriruto @bambangan @who-tf-soddhi @nxzz-skz @nshmrarki @hotsforikeu @enhastolemyheart @erehkinnie30 @judeduartewannabe @neosexual @fakeuwus @positivelyinlovewithjungwon @tobiosbbyghorl @kimsunoops

#enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon smut #enhypen angst #melting point #aj writes

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reverieblondie · 3 months

Text

Seeking Advice

Pairing: Rolan x Fem!Tav Reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Fluff and Smut with Plot, Oral (fem receiving), Cum eating, Horn pulling?.

Summary: Asking out your crush can be difficult, Maybe you should seek advice from your friends on how to ask out your favorite wizard?

A/N: Look...I've been playing a lot of Baldur's Gate 3. Then this guy yelled at me and I fell. I have a thing for grumpy guys what can I say. Now do not worry! I still am writing for ATSV, TASM!Peter and my love Miguel, just I think I can squeeze the bg3 fandom on my blog. Trust I have plans for for all my fictional men. Plus I am working on request! Just had to get this story out, it was rotting my brain. Hope you enjoy it! Its kinda cheesy but its what I like, sorry.

Word Count: 6,957

The energy to the tavern is a welcomed one, All the noise you might have found irritating at a time is now a pleasant chime to your ears. How things can so easily change with time. Since becoming the city's hero many things have changed for you and your friends. The city is back to its wondrous glory. Finally, your life is starting to calm down, well for the most part…

There is no longer a squirming in your head and the threats to the world's damnation are at the time eased, things should be perfect, and you should be happy riding an inexplicable high. You are happy for the most part, however there is just one thing that is causing you trouble now. It's the ache that swirls within you that only grows when you see him, the now master of Ramazith’s Tower, Rolan.

The first time you felt it, it was simply a spark, harmless. It didn’t turn into this thrumming storm until the grove celebration after you defeated the goblin camp, and where he taught you his light spell. That night your fate was sealed, now as your friendship has grown you feel those glittering sparks storming through you more often.

With a sigh, you rest your hazy head in your palm as you watch him with his siblings. The amber lights of Elfsong make his crimson skin appear as if it's glowing, he looks good in any lighting with his striking features but at this moment he looks damn near ethereal. You're acutely aware that you are staring at the trio, but in your buzzed haze from four wine goblets, you can not bring yourself to care. People are properly catching you staring like a lovesick fool; you will move your eyes eventually, you just want to watch for a bit longer.

Rolan's journey to the city was different than yours but it was not without its hurdles, then when he got here he had to be met with the cruelty of Lorroakan. You won’t lie, you felt immense pleasure watching his spine get cracked in two for what he had done. Now with that horror over, the scars have faded and you see that Rolan is better, happier. He smiles just a bit wider and his eyes shine just a tad bit brighter. It only makes sense that the Tower and Sundries have become more successful with his influence, though you know he’s just happy that his family is now together and safe.

Blindly you bring the metal goblet to your lips and taste the tang of the red wine nursing you through your pinning. The drink was meant to boost your confidence to go over there and shoot your shot for a date, but it only makes your head cloud into hopeless romantics. Why can’t you just ask him out? You can take on a horde of knols but you can’t bring yourself to confess to the guy you like? Doesn't get more pathetic than that…

Your eyes stay fixed on Rolan as he smirks and rolls his eyes at what Cal is saying, his clawed hand grabs his goblet and you watch as he brings the drink to his lips. Feeling looser from drinking you see as the red wine slightly escapes the side of his lips as he chugs the drink down. The deep red rolls down his jaw and you have to bite your lip from the thoughts that erupt in your mind.

“Darling, you have got to stop staring.”

With a sigh, you turn your head to your pale companion with a devilish smile on his face. With a roll to your eyes, you take another drink of your wine trying your best to play unbothered by Astarion as you can.

“I wasn’t staring”

“Tav, let's not be coy, you haven’t moved your eyes from a particular wizard since he strolled in. Sighing and squeezing your thighs together like that's going to help your ache.”

The mentioning of the actions you thought were unnoticed makes your face blush from embarrassment. Asterion can only laugh at your fluster features as you look around the crowded tavern to see hints if others have noticed.

“I- wasn’t, you don’t-”

“Don’t be embarrassed, you could pick far worse. He’s a bit pompous for my taste, but the innocent little freckles on his face are pretty intriguing.”

Astarion gives you a smirk as you whip your head to face him giving him a look of ‘back off’, though he is hardly intimated by you.

“Relax, I am not going to take a bite out of your favorite wizard. I will leave that pleasure for you, however some advice, you won’t get him from just staring.”

You hate to admit it but Astarion might have a point, you have been wanting to confess your feelings you just don’t know how. Looking at Rolan you rake your mind with your past chances to open yourself up but always seem to back out at the last moment, his rejecting you would be painful but being in this limbo is excruciating. You have to get your feelings off your chest for some inner peace.

“Okay, Astarion…what's your advice?”

Astarion's smile spreads to his lips and he sits next to you quickly, “My suggestion is you make it your mission to get that Rolan in your sheets, my dear. You obviously have had trouble getting your…” Astarion grimaces “Feelings for him out, so why not go the seductive approach?”

You let out a laugh but Astarion just keeps his face neutral, “You think, I should seduce him? How am I supposed to do that?”

“Simple, give him an offer he can’t refuse.”

“Yeah like what?”

Astarion looks over at Rolan, seeming to think before his face lights up, he quickly wraps his arm around your shoulder moving your chin to face Rolan. Then he whispers in your ear, “You're going to go over to him, very calmly…place your hand on his shoulder and whisper in his ear very sweetly that you want to lick every ridge on his body.”

Your mouth goes dry and eyes go wide at the thought…running your tongue…down…his… You blush feeling your face grow hot, so hot you think it could be radiating off you.

“A-Astarion…I-I can’t do that…”

“Oh, but picture it, once you're done he will be so spent he will be the one confessing to you.”

An image of a panting Rolan looking down at you with a fist full of your hair sparks in your mind. Hells, maybe Astarion has a point…he has had plenty of experience seducing people, but you? The thought only makes it so you can’t even move. Astartion picks up on your dazed state and with a nudge he pops you from it.

“Lucky for you there's a creature in here I have had my eyes on, so just watch and learn,”

“Wait, you like someone?” You say it a bit shocked,

Astarion gives you a look, “Focus on your own love life, huh?”

With that, you say quite as you watch Astarion's ruby eyes land on a particularly pretty patron. With a smirk, he grabs your goblet keeping his eyes fixed on them like a predator studying its prey. Quickly downing your drink he releases a cool and steady breath then makes his approach. He practically glides across the room to them, very carefully he starts the conversation with a smile and you can already tell the person is interested. Do they know each other?

In What seems like a quick second he is placing his hand on their shoulder and leaning down to their ear. You can only imagine what he must be saying to have their faces fluster so quickly. Nobody quite had a way with words like him. Astarion leans back up to meet their eyes where they are feverishly nodding.

With that, he starts guiding them to the exit while turning back towards you to smirk. Well, looks like it's your turn…

Picking up your goblet you see he did finish it, okay next step. Standing you feel all the alcohol you consumed immediately go to your head, deep breath, then go. Making your way over you try to not stumble into people as you push to your destination. Keeping your eyes on Rolan you rehearse the lines in your head over and over, as you get closer.

Rolan almost like he can sense it then flicks his eyes to you, watching as you approach. Swallowing to ease your dry throat as you continue to make your way over still keeping your nerves despite your stomach being in knots. Then his lips curl into a slight smile and you freeze…shit…looking down at your hands reality hits you suddenly, you're drunk and about to proposition him, you can’t do this…he is just going to dismiss you… the thought makes your chest ache and the feeling of your drink coming back up.

Looking back at him he tilts his head looking at you concerned smile fading and that's when the fear of rejection rushes you. Opening your mouth you go to say anything, maybe smile at him something to mask your panic but it fails. Your lips tremble and before you know it you're rushing to the exit.

Finding the exit you look back to Rolan, he’s up from his table and seems to be trying to make his way toward you, he looks completely confused and maybe…hurt. You can’t do this…not when you're drunk and on the verge of puking.

With that, you're pushing out of the tavern and running off into the cool night of the city. As you're running past one of the city's allies you catch in your peripherals Astarion with that person pinned against the wall as he kisses against their neck leaving them moaning into his hand. You must have caught his attention from your running, he looks at your fleeing figure and calls out to you.

“I guess it didn’t go well?”

You don’t bother to give him a response, his advice might have worked for him but you're going to have to try a different tactic.

Note to self, do not try to drunkenly ask out your crushes, it only ends in you making an ass out of yourself and puking up all your stomach contents. Thinking back on it you can only think back on the look on Rolan's face…the confusion…the disappointment…Maybe you should go talk to him? You don’t want him to think that you're trying to ignore him. You were drunk and didn’t want to spill your guts all over him. Feeling freshly invigorated you decide that you should apologize for running off. Who knows maybe the conversion could lead to something.

Arriving at Sorcerous Sundries you're not even fully sure if he would even be there, the tower might have been the better bet. However, your guess is shown to be a good one when you see Rolan placing some tomes on the shelves. Gods, you could watch him work for hours…his dexterous hands placing everything so carefully. As you watch you think you almost see his tail wag before he’s fixing it down. The smile it causes to your face can’t be helped, though he is always so composed he still slips at times.

As you watch Rolan work you have the oddest sensation come over you that you too are being watched. Turning your head you jerk back slightly in surprise seeing that Lae’zel’s yellow eyes are piercing into you with her trademark intensity. It’s quite odd that she is in here, she's not one for spells but as you're looking past her you see that Shadowheart is with her thumbing through a tome. That makes more sense, you're happy those two have become better friends. Especially since they did try and kill each other.

Smiling you give Lae’zel a smile with a wave, she only narrows her eyes more at you as you move to go talk to Rolan. Approaching his tall figure you're taking in every inch of him.

He's beautiful, from face to physique, you watch as the muscles from underneath his robes flex from his movements. It’s funny wizards are not known for their strong builds but Rolan's arms and back are a dead giveaway to his hidden strength. Looking up you trace down the length of his horns to where they disappear into his soft chestnut hair, twisted in that half-up style. You wonder if you two get closer in the way you hope he will let you play with his hair, it appears so tantalizing and soft…everything about him is tantalizing…

In your approach your mind is running through a quick daydream of running your fingers along his horns and through his hair; it causes you not to pay attention to where you are stepping. With the perfect explanation for the night at Elfsong in your mind, you're ready to smooth things over with him. Just as you're reaching out you suddenly see Rolan's shoulders shoot up teasing like something just hit him. Confused you lean forward more but that's when you feel it, something is wiggling under your foot.

Looking down you see that your boot is crushing his poor tail underneath your weight. Mortified, you quickly step off of it. Karlach had told you how sensitive her tail was when she yelped when someone sat on it, so having it crushed underneath a boot sure is not a great feeling. Rolan's back stays teased as he turns slowly, his tail swiftly moving away from you to go to his hands. His eyes look as if he could thunder wave you out of the building.

“I-I am so sorry Rolan, I- I didn’t see your tail.” you ramble out as quickly as possible

“How do you not see the appendage handed down from my-!” Rolan stops his yelling and takes a breath, his hands tightening on his tail. There is now a mark from where you stepped and you feel even worse.

“Here let me-” Reaching out for his tail you are quickly stopped by Rolan holding up his hand and shaking his head. Rolan tail in hands starts walking away mumbling a language you don’t know.

“I’m sorry!” You call out to his fleeing figure as he ascends the stairs.

Running your hands down your face, your intentions of apologizing to him for Elfsong completely disappear as you make yourself look like a complete ass again to him. Looking through your fingers you see that not only is Lae’zel still staring at you but now Shadowheart has joined her in watching your screw-up. You make your way over to them with your head down silently standing with them as Shadowheart keeps at her browsing.

After a couple of moments, you see Rolan coming back down to the shop, his eyes meet yours. A part of you thinks you should go back over to him and apologize but you don’t want to annoy him further so you give him an apologetic wave. Rolan just huffs slightly with a nod before turning his back to you to get back to work. Leaning against the shelved wall you let out a long sigh.

“What am I going to do…”

“You mean about your crush on the new master of the tower?”

You turn your head to stare at Shadowheart for her comment but she doesn’t even bother lifting her eyes away from the spines of the tomes.

“How…what…”

Lae’zel cuts in “Your lusting is obvious, sighing with your head in the sky with your pathetic pinning,” -wow ouch…

A stray giggle leaves Shadowheart and you're quick to narrow your eyes at her as she bites her lip to silence herself. Crossing your arms you look back at Lae’zel

“I am probably going to regret this, but Lae’zel what is your advice? How should I go about asking Rolan out then?”

The question is intriguing enough to make Shadowheart put her tome down and look at Lae’zel as well. Lae’zel rolls her eyes for a second before folding her arms and moving her fierce gaze to where Rolan is now helping out a customer. Lae’zel eyes narrow at him, sizing him up as she studies him before she turns back to you with a huff.

“I would not ask, I would grab that teeth-ling by the horns and command him to do as I say.” The direct advice makes Shadowheart burst into laughter drawing attention from people near you, though you can’t seem to meet their eyes because you're too busy giving Lae’zel a confused look.

“I don’t think that would work with him…”

“Tis’k, you do not know this unless you try. Now go grab him by the tail and mount him forming a flesh bond with your desired.”

You're staring at Lae’zel gobsmacked while Shadowheart practically rolls on the floor with laughter.

“Lae’zel! I can’t just mount him!” you whisper yell at her.

“I don’t know, she might have something to the direct approach” Shadowheart soothes

You glare at her “Oh you're done laughing on the floor?” She smirks with a shrug, absolutely no help.

“Fine, I will gather him for you.” -what?

Lae’zel starts going towards Rolan but you are quick to grab her and drag her out. As the puzzled patrons watch you carry out the githyanki fighter cussing you in her native tongue with Shadowheart trailing behind you, smirk on her face. You try to rush out as quickly as you can mortified that Rolan might be seeing the display.

Once outside you put her down with an apology, Shadowheart quickly places a hand on Lae’zel’s shoulder to prevent her from cutting off your head. “Why not try talking to the guys for advice? Maybe they can give you the male perspective on things.” Shadowheart offers.

Thinking for a moment you find that she might have a point, it might help to ask the guys for some advice.

Piercing your lips you study the smiling wizard in front of you waiting for your question.

“Actually Gale I don’t know if I should ask you for advice on this.”

Gale's face changes from a smile into hurt then moves to irritation, “Wh- and why not?” he practically huffs.

“Because the last time you tried to get a person to like you you ended up with a bomb in your chest.”

“Magic orb…” he mutters while Wyll laughs, nearly choking on his wine.

“Okay, Tav what advice are you needing? We can try our best to help aid you.” Wyll smooths out the tension of the room.

“Well…the thing is I need some advice on asking someone out. I figured our most intelligent and most charismatic party members would have some great advice.”

Wyll and Gale look at each other like they can detect each other's thoughts before they turn back to you “You're talking about asking out Rolan aren't you?”

You purse your lips and narrow your eyes at the duo, “Who told you I was coming?”

“Astarion and Shadowheart, they sang like canaries. Told us about your ...Mishaps” Gale says somewhat sing-songy.

Sure he might have gotten a bomb in his chest but at least he got some for the goddess… And Wyll Mr. Prince Charming, half the girls in the city who were in love with him and his fancy footwork. Hopefully, they will have some good advice. You watch as the two men start pacing along rubbing their chins deep in thought. You appreciate they are taking this so seriously for your sake.

“So have you at least tried? Asking him out? I know you two are pals but have you ever eluded to it.”

You give Wyll an unamused look “Yeah I tried, but then something horrid goes wrong, I’m either stepping on his tail or about to puke.”

Wyll nods trying to understand, “Maybe you could try to do an action, like an impromptu dance at the tavern between friends? The music is plentiful, and as you two sway along the music you can tell him with your eyes.”

You watch as Wyll mimics the swaying of a dance keeping intense eye contact with you, but Gale comes behind him and places a hand on his shoulder stopping him. “Don’t think that will work with Rolan, he's….kinda dense…”

Gale then lights up with the idea, “Why not ask him for some magic lessons? He can show you the ways of the weave and as you two flow through it, you can send him your thoughts.”

You think for a moment, you have had him teach you magic before but…that was at the grove…and things were different. You hold that memory when he taught you his trick dear and you're about to agree to it. But you stop…if Rolan rejects you during that…it would ruin that spell for you forever…

“Yeah…he's a strict teacher…can we think of something else…Something that can explain how I feel but I don’t have to choke over the words too.”

Gale and Wyll sit and think for a minute, then Wyll is snapping his fingers with an idea, “Why don’t you write him a letter!”

You look at Wyll a bit skeptical, “A letter?”

“Now that's the way to a wizard's heart, through the written word. Grand idea Wyll! Plus that helps with your shyness you can just hand him the letter! No conversion required!” Gale praises.

You think for a moment, writing isn’t exactly your thing but it might be your only option left. Plus you're sure Gale and Wyll will help you through it! With a nod, you give them the okay and Gale is already conjuring up some paper and quill. They sit themselves on both sides of you and help you get through your thoughts. You thought it would be best to keep some more private feelings to yourself. They both seemed to be rather…really into letter writing, Gale helped fill the letter with praise of Rolan's grandeur with magic. While Wyll helps you spruce it up with flourishes about how your heart dances for him. It turned out a bit cheesy but Wyll and Gale seemed to have a good time. Maybe they should start a poetry club?

Letter in hand you pace outside the shop, the letter was a great idea when Gale and Wyll were helping you write it but now… Now that you're here to give it to Rolan you're finding that familiar nervousness is eating away at you again. Peeking through the door you see that Rolan isn’t in the shop. It just seems to be his hologram today…Perfect! Now all you have to do is place it on the front desk for him to find later. That way if he isn’t into it you won’t have to meet his rejection immediately. The thought of Rolan looking at the letter and frowning pops into your mind, but you shake it off. Just place it down…easy…

“Tav! Hey!”

Pausing you Turn around and see Karlach running towards you waving with a huge smile on her face. This is not good… It's not that you don’t want to see Karlach, she is amazing and you two have become incredibly close. The reason that this isn’t good is that Karlach isn’t exactly…subtle… Karlach is a complete badass but when it comes to love and romance she is a complete softie gushing about it to everyone. Wyll had told her about a crush of his one time and she had gushed about the story to anyone who would listen. It’s truly sweet that she loves love so much and gushes about her friends' conquest, but you're trying to be subtle here, placing the letter then leaving quickly, if Karlach finds out about it she's going to give you being here away.

“Hello soldier, what are you doing loitering around Sundries? Waiting for someone?”

“Oh, no no…I just have this letter to give Rolan.”

“Oh! What's it about?”

“Just some questions about…spells…and curses…if he can detect the traces of the magical…What are you doing?” you quickly change the subject not being able to think of a good lie.

“I was just at the Forge of the Nine catching up with Dammon, I had found some good iron ingots and wanted to give them to him, he could use them more than me anyways…” -oh Karlach you cutie

Karlach looks into sundries and appears to be looking around a bit, her smile slowly dies away before she turns back to you, “Well, I think you're out of luck soldier, Rolan doesn't seem to be around.”

You shrug trying to seem as unfazed as possible, “That's fine, I will just leave it on the front desk.”

“Or you could give it to-”

“No! No the desk will work, I mean…it’s important but he will find it.” you quickly interject.

Karlach looks at you somewhat confused before she shrugs with a smile and follows you in. Finally, through the doorway, you quickly make your way to the desk and you feel…good! Finally one of your plans is going to work and you have Gales and Wyll's advice to thank! Maybe if this all goes well you will treat them to a drink at Elfsong. You will finally get your feelings off your chest, sure…it’s not exactly how you envisioned, but all the other attempts failed, this is easy and mess-free.

Right as you reach the desk, something tells you to look up. Looking up you see Rolan descending the stairs wrapped up in whatever tome he is reading. He hasn’t seemed to notice you however so maybe you can just drop the letter and run-

“Hey Rolan! What udder luck, Tav has a letter for you!” -shit

Rolan looks away from his tome, eyes seeming to widen when he sees you and Karlach. You feel all the blood rush to your face as his eyes meet yours, you can’t quite tell if he is pleased to see you or not, kinda of appears to be…annoyed…or surprised? Damn that handsome studious face!

Your hands tighten on the letter, you go to quickly place it on the desk and rush out but in the blink of an eye, the letter is out of your hand. Instead of it being in your hand or on the desk it's in Karlach’s hand as she is going towards the stairs…to Rolan…going to hand it to him! Oh, hells!

Rushing over to her you quickly snatch the letter from her hand. Karlach seems taken aback by your action, “Hey? What the fuck?”

Karlach tries to take the letter back after you rudely snatched it. “Tav isn’t this for him?”

“Uh…Yeah, but I changed my mind…”

“Changed your mind? But you said it was important?”

Karlach goes to take the letter from you again but this time it is not so easy to take from your hand. Now in the middle of Sundries, you and Karlach are having a tug of war over a letter while Rolan looks at you two trying to piece together what is going on. With some quick moves on your part, you're able to shoulder check Karlach, not knocking her over by any means but just enough to cause her to loosen her hold slightly.

Feeling successful you smile to yourself that you were able to get it back, but when you look back at Karlach your smile fades. Her eyes are narrowed and you see the hints of flames starting to spark around her, she looks pissed and you are about to get it. Looking up you see Rolan at the bottom of the stairs approaching you with a very irritated look, it makes sense you did have a fight in the middle of his shop.

Shoving the letter down your pocket you do the thing that you only seem to know how to do nowadays, run.

“Ohhhh…..so you wrote him a love letter….”

“Yeah…I wanted to just leave it on his desk but…that didn’t work out….”

You and Karlach sit on the stone wall looking out into the city watching the sunset. Of course, when you ran off she chased you down and demanded an explanation. You gave your explanation and that's how you are here now pouring your heart out to her.

“Tav, I think you're going about this all wrong.”

“Oh? How do you figure?”

“Well sure everyone giving their advice is nice but…I think you should just do what feels right to you. Instead of worrying about what he will say just…just stop being so scared and talk to him. Be honest. All these games, and trying to be sneaky isn’t how to do it. ”

You take in her words for a moment before you speak, “So…you're telling me Lae’zel had the best advice? Being direct?”

Karlach laughs “What I am saying is stop being so in your head Tav. Instead of talking to everyone else about this, just go talk to him. I promise it will be best that way.”

“When should I do it?”

Karlach hums then shrugs “Fuck if I know. Maybe it will just hit you.”

A smile spreads to your lips and you nod your head “Thanks Karlach, that...that's some really good advice…”

Karlach smacks your back, basically knocking the air out of you. “Don’t worry I am here for all your relationship advice needs!”

“So, how's Dammon?” you say coyly

“Oh don’t even start.”

Laying in bed you think about all the advice your friends gave you and how all the advice had turned out. Why does this have to be so hard….

Looking outside you see how late it is, people all around are either asleep or going home to rest but as you lay you listen to the stillness of the city. Then your thoughts go back to Rolan. How you ache to be held in his arms…to get to look into those golden eyes on a dark still night like this. To talk to him about everything and nothing as his fingers gently caress your skin. You know you would so easily melt under his touch. How it would comfort you, how you want to comfort him.

Rising from your warm bed you go to look out into the night of the city. With a click, you open the window and are met with the shivering cold of the night. A chill runs through you as you lean out and admire the star-dusted sky. For some reason, your thoughts go back to the night of the grove celebration. Rolan was being teased by his siblings as he focused on his fireworks show. They didn’t seem to be impressed but you clapped for him, before he gave some response about adoring fans there was a moment in his dark eyes where those golden fires shined just for you. That's when the glittering flickers within you started to storm. At the time you thought it was maybe residue from the magic, but now you know better.

Holding your hands out into the still night you mimic the moves that Rolan taught you after a few goblets of wine after he got more comfortable around you or maybe just got tired of your begging. As you gesture you feel the fluttering of magic down your arms to your hands, motioning your arms up you release the spell. You used to call it just simple fireworks. Though after that night it now has a new name for both of you; Rolan’s Fire

“What are you calling it?”

“Rolan’s Fire. You have to admit it has a nice ring to it.”

The bursting lights grow in a flash then dim in a beautiful marriott of colors and white light. The elegance of the spell always fit him and it never failed to fill you with warmth, but now you still feel the bite of the cold despite how many memories of him you conger or how many times you spill the lights from your hands.

“Just talk to him…” Karlach's words echo in your mind. Of course, it’s that simple, but would it be enough? Could you even be able to articulate how he sends sparks through you? Would he want you to? Or would he want something different…Clenching your fist hard, your mind running rampant with thoughts, with advice, with what you should do. Then finally you come to your decision.

The cold air stings your face as you run down the dark streets. With every step, your mind screams how this is crazy but your heart urges your tired feet forward. Running as fast as your legs can take you, the city and the few late-night pedestrians blur beside you as your eyes keep forward to one goal. Ramazith’s Tower.

Running up to the tower you don’t even give yourself a minute to catch your breath before banging on the doors with all your might. You know you won’t be able to rest until you finally settle this with him. Rolan needs to know, you need to know so you can function again. The pinning of your heart has thoroughly consumed you, it’s time. If only this damn door would open!

The frustration you feel gets released as you beat against the door,

“Stop beating against that damn door!”

The voice sounds rough with sleep but still has that formal tone you have grown to listen for, to adore…

The door swinging open you immediately feel those sparks. His hair, usually tied back so precisely is knotted back in a messy rush, he looks surprised to see you. His handsome face contorted to scrunch in confusion at your slummed body still trying to catch your breath. Staring at him in this state is not helping you catch your breath in the slightest.

Rolan's chest, usually concealed underneath his robes, is now exposed showing off his toned chest covered in those defining ridges that decorate his red skin. Unable to help yourself, your eyes follow the trail of his ridges to his abs then the simple trousers that are keeping the rest of him from you.

“Tav?” his voice is laced with concern before it's going back to his usual irritated one. “What are you doing here? Going to act like a lunatic then run off again?” Rolan steps closer “What's been going on with you? I thought we were friends and you keep avoiding me! So what is it now that is so damned impor-”

“Rolan, how do I ask you out?” you interrupt while still trying to catch your breath.

“Wh-What?” Rolan's dark eyes are wide, any trace of sleep has been knocked out of him by your question.

Pushing past him you walk into the tower. The tower has usually been lit up when you have seen it before, but now it's dark and intimidating. Turning to look at Rolan he still has that shocked look on his face. You know your question is sudden, but you couldn’t think of anything else. Nervously you begin rambling.

“Look, I know it’s a sudden question but I don’t know what else to do. I have asked everyone for advice, and I just can’t seem to do any of it right. So might as well just ask the source right? Because all the stuff I have tried I choke, or Im making a complete ass out of myself. So please, just tell me…so I can do it and get this…nonning ache out! I know the reject-”

During your pacing rant, you feel hands cupping your face gently, slowly they raise your head to have you meet his golden eyes. All the words die off in your throat, Rolan’s is staring at you so intensely. With him so close you take in the details of his horns, the freckles peppering his red skin. The feeling of his hands warming your skin, you want to stay like this forever but you just wish you knew what he was thinking.

“Rolan I-”

“Quiet.”

Rolan’s command instantly silences you. The sparks you have been feeling are erupting into a storm of excitement that rushes through you. His thumbs carefully brush against your skin only making you lean in closer. Rolons eyes glow in the darkness, you want to tell him how they set you on fire but right as you're parting your lips Rolan dips down and presses his mouth to yours. His soft lips make all your thoughts melt away. The thundering sparks are bursting into a warmth throughout your body. Rolan’s Fire…

Slowly as he keeps guiding your lips with a growing intensity, then carefully you feel your body being guided back. Once you feel your back meet the wall you break the kiss with a gasp, but it's only a quick second before his lips are pressing to yours once more. Rolan's hands slide down from your jaw to your hips bringing them closer to press against himself. A soft moan leaves your chest when you feel the hardness of his arousal straining against you.

Rolan slips his tongue between your lips to taste you, the deepening of the kiss causes you to tighten your thighs feeling yourself getting wetter with each pass of his tongue. Your hands find a place on the hard ridges on his warm chest, as you trace over them slowly you feel him groan into the kiss. Then Rolan breaks the and his warm breath fans over your ear as he speaks.

“Ask me now.”

The words barely register in your foggy mind as you feel Rolan slipping his hands underneath your shirt.

“What?” You can hardly manage the word, your shaky breath makes Rolan lean into your neck with a smile and a kiss, slowly he drags his soft lips against your skin sending shivers of excitement through you. Then his voice is back in your ear purring his words to you.

“Ask me out again…tell me what you want…please…I need to hear it.”

The hands underneath your shirt find your breasts and crease them as you stumble a moan trying to find your words.

“Rolan…”

“Yes?”, he whispers as he strips your shirt from you. His eyes roam over all your curves before he leans into your exposed chest, palming and lightly teasing at your sensitive skin.

“I want you in every way possible…I..want you,” you practically cry as you feel him move from your chest to sink lower, sliding his lips against your stomach. Once reaching the hem of your pants he tugs down your pants, rolling your pants and underwear down carefully exposing your wet sex.

Kneeling now you feel his lips press against your hips causing you to arch them forward. Shaky hands slide up the back of your thighs, suddenly you feel one of your legs being lifted to hook over his shoulder. Heart beating out of your chest you look down to see his eyes are already on you as he waits patiently on one knee. His eyes are completely blown with desire and you can feel the anticipation in his shaking touch as he rubs his hand on the outside of your thigh.

“Go out with me?” you ask desperately.

“Gods yes,” he groans before pressing his face into your folds, his hot tongue quickly finds your clit nudging and licking against the bundle making you throw your head back in a sharp gasp.

Rolan being a quick learner latches onto your swollen bundle, sucking and twirling his tongue against it. The sudden stimulation has a moan escaping you then quickly your hand comes down to grasp one of his horns, holding on desperately as you watch him ravishingly pleasure you.

Rolan's eyes widen then roll back as your grip gets tighter on his horn. The groan he releases from the sensation vibrates through you, tightening the coil in your stomach. The slick from your quivering slit is rolling down his chin. Moving slightly he laps his tongue to taste more, Adjusting so his perfect nose is rubbing against your clit. His tongue breaching your insides makes you grab both horns as you pull him in closer. You moan his name like a prayer as you ride against his face.

The more you tug on his horns the more he groans, he can't help but grasp hard on your behind making you whine more as his nails dig into you. Your stomach starts to suddenly tighten more as his velvet tongue finds the sweet stop within you.

“There! Fuck there! D-Don't, Ah!” you push your hips off the wall but he's quickly pushing them back against it to keep you still.

Keeping his eyes on you, he watches as the hot wave of pleasure rushes through you. Clasping your hand over your mouth you moan and shake as your orgasm hits. Rolan eagerly licks and sucks up your release as you ride out your high.

Finally coming down from it Rolan starts to move away from your spent cunt, though before he's moved away completely he gives a quick nip to your clit making you let out a sharp whine.

Body feeling feverish you lean and brace yourself against the wall, trembling and breathing heavily. Rolan rises from his kneel and you watch in awe as a mix of your arousal and his spit glistens against his perfect face. He brings his hand to wipe his face, his eyes flicking down at you as he smiles then licks up the residue from his fingers.

“Meet me at Elfsong tomorrow night?”

Stars in your eyes you nod absentmindedly at him, “Yes…”

Gods you can’t wait for tomorrow…

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