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sukirichi · 3 years

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sweet lies [03.final]

His lies were way too sweet – and you were too addicted to make him stop.

cw. toxic! megumi, SEXY TOXIC MEGUMI 🥵, toxic college settings, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasm, orgasm denial, explicit smut, car sex, biting, scratching, sukuna is a sex god, MEGUMI WITH A LIP RING, slight angst

note. FINALLY FINISHED THIS SERIES AAAAHHH I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED THIS I HAD A LOT OF FUN WITH THIS SERIES TYSM FOR EVERYTHING! lotsa lub lub for each and everyone of you! anyways let me just say...sweet lies sukuna can politely rail me.

series masterlist | 01 | 02 | 03

It’s…a different story when you have to move back and forth between your newly made acquaintance slash fuck buddy, Sukuna, to your actual fuck buddy and crush, Megumi.

Sukuna’s polite enough to not meddle into your business as he’s promised, which you’re extremely thankful for, but you should’ve known the bubble of happiness would pop the moment you stepped out of your apartment. You’ve left your phone unattended and on silent, earbuds always placed inside to ignore Megumi’s calls.

It’s funny, actually, that he’s never replied much to you before other than occasional dick pic and ‘you awake baby?’ but ever since you’ve been…pre-occupied, suddenly you’re on top of his contacts.

You grumble at the vibration of your phone, Megumi’s name flashing on the screen. Back then, you would’ve soared and jumped to pick up the call, voice sultry and toes pointed at the ceiling as you try to keep in your giggles. Now, you’re dreading it, glaring at his annoyingly handsome contact icon that used to make your heart skip a beat. You’re studying in the library and have been doing a terrific job at avoiding him so far, and today won’t be any different.

With a sigh, you completely flip your phone upside down and turn back to your book. You’re on the second line of the paragraph when you feel large, warm hands caress the back of your neck, tilting you upwards to meet his curious – and certainly annoyed – blue eyes.

“Babe,” Megumi drawls out, minty breath fanning your cheeks.

He looks absolutely stunning today, plain and casual yet so handsome in just a black hoodie and sweatpants, his dark hair slicked back to reveal his forehead. For a guy who sure pounded into your skill he had no interest in you that went beyond sexual, he sure did know you well enough, the slight tugging of his lips a sign he could easily read through you. It makes you huff away from him, scooting – trying is the keyword – away from his touch. Megumi’s persistence leads him into you placing you right above his lap and cages you between his arms, chin on your shoulder and his breath floating over your ear.

You can’t help but squirm in embarrassment. Half of the students in the campus library have turned to look at you, and Megumi merely smiles at the attention, audacious enough to kiss the shell of your ear.

Fuck him, fuck him, fuck him! In reality, you really do want to fuck him.

“Why have you been ghosting me?”

“I wasn’t ghosting you, Megumi, it’s called being busy. You ever tried doing homework?”

“You’re so mean to me today,” he pouts, but that pout soon brightens into a smile when you scowl at him. Megumi, albeit never really paying attention to you, your facial expressions have registered as second nature to him now. It doesn’t take much before you soften under his hold, still as mushy as ever, and the nasty fucker basks in it proudly. “There’s a party tonight at Okkotsu’s house, said his parents were away in Greece or some rich family shit. Wanna come and get wasted with me?”

“I don’t know, Megs, I have an essay to finish…”

“Come on, it’s just one night. It won’t hurt,” he shrugs and sways you to side to side, causing your heart to sway side to side in giddiness. It’s this – moments like this – that really fools you into believing Megumi likes you. And that sweet lie only turns sweeter from his words that drip like honey, “Plus, I’ve missed you. Can’t think straight when we’ve been apart for too long, baby.”

You pretend to think about it.

That slight falter in a split second brings about a waver in Megumi’s confident you didn’t think would be possible. Not that you can blame him; you never did have to think about it whenever he invites you to fuck around with him. In fact, you say yes a lot faster than he can ask you something, but something’s been changing you lately – or rather someone.

In the end though, you’ll circle up right where you belong.

Relishing in the rarity of having Megumi coddle you with kisses and affection, his perfume still as boyish and vanilla that deluded you into his faux aura of a sweet boy, you melt one more time. Hopefully, it would transition into a one last time before Megumi’s completely wrapped you around his finger.

“Fine. I’m leaving if it’s too noisy though.”

“Awesome,” Megumi chirps, pulling you in for a long, solid kiss. It takes you back by surprise that you end up wide-eyed above him, stiff hands on his shoulders as you feel him smile through the kiss. Then, just as you’re about to kiss him back with the same passion, Megumi separates himself from you and squeezes your ass. “Promise we’ll have fun, babe. I’ll even bring extra condoms.”

You’re not surprised he left afterwards.

But are you hurt? Most definitely so.

Fuck Fushiguro Megumi.

You were going to leave him, block him, ignore him, avoid him, and carve him out of your heart for good. It’s what you deserve – to be freed from such a toxic guy like him. His pretty face shouldn’t be an excuse for you stick around any longer. That party…well, it would be your last one, you’re never going back!

Still, it’s not that easy to let go. Years of following him around with puppy eyes and spreading your legs open for him like it’s the most natural thing to do isn’t just going to disappear in a day.

It’s for closure, you lie to yourself. That’s all it is – you just need closure. So for one last time, you’ll fuck around with Megumi, then you’d leave him. For good this time.

And yet – your mind still races back to him. His throaty, boyish laughter and the stupid way his eyes crinkle into half moons, his large hands slapping his knees when you tell him a really silly joke. Okay, he didn’t really laugh that much because he’s already passed out in the times you crack jokes after sex, but the few times he did, though? It’s magical, beautiful, phenomenal.

He’s so awful yet so irresistibly charming it’s a huge tug of war between your rational mind and foolish heart.

You couldn’t focus anymore in the library. If you wanted to pass your exams, you need to be somewhere that won’t remind you of him, in a place where a stronger aroma would conceal his lingering scent. The best option was to hang around in a local café closer to your apartment than on campus, and you’ve completely ditched your usual get up to just opting for lookinglike a complete shut in – bags under eyes, heart torn over a stupid boy, the usual Iced Vanilla Latte with the condensation sticking to the wooden table and soft lofi music playing in the background – it’s just the perfect atmosphere for you to wallow in self-pity.

And wallow in self-pity you did, your cheeks squished against the pale furniture while you sighed for what seems like the hundredth time that day. At the back of your head, Megumi is still giving you one of those slow, long kisses reserved for only when he’s half-sleepy, your heart doing insane back flips as you reminisced whatever moments you once had.

You’re so lost in your own train of thought you fail to hear the scraping of a chair, followed by a heavy body plopping across you. “Well, this is kind of gloomy…”

At the sound of that awfully familiar, deep voice, you sit up straight in a frenzy. Sukuna smirks at your reaction as he loudly sips from his matcha latte – which you would’ve never thought he likes – and sits back at his chair, legs crossed against one another. Unlike Megumi, he doesn’t seem to pose any other malicious intent, so you bury your head in your arms, wishing for the ground to just open up and eat you already.

“I’m sleep deprived and haven’t eaten anything except Red Bull and coffee,” you try to explain, “I look horrible.”

“Don’t say that. You’re gorgeous all the time.”

From under your arms, you scowl at nowhere in particular, ignoring the heat rushing from the back of your neck. Sukuna didn’t seem to be flirting with you, and one peek at him swirling his straw inside his cup proves your theories.

However, the offhanded compliment falls so naturally from his lips it takes you a back, and not in a good way. Defensively, you cross your arms against your chest. You knock your toes against Sukuna’s knees under the knees to get his attention, the taller man peering at you under his lashes, tongue innocently swirling around his straw.

I fucking hate men! – is what you want to say, but something different comes out. “Why are you even here? Aren’t you asleep in the morning because of work?”

“It’s my day off,” he sets his cup down, placing his chin on both of his palms. Sukuna’s gaze travels from your face down to the abandoned papers before you, a scowl immediately making its way to his face. “Got too bored to cook so I came here for a light snack. As for you…ew, are you doing essays? I hated that shit in college.”

“Yeah, I hate it too,” you numbly agree, “Can barely function right now.”

Sukuna’s eyes lit up the moment you nearly fall on the table again, his palm quick to caress your cheek. If he can feel the intense heat of your skin from the sudden gesture, he makes no comment about it. Instead, Sukuna hauls you from your seat, nodding to your bag and papers before he rushes you out the door.

When Sukuna said he could make you feel better, the last thing you thought of was going to the nearby park. Now, you find yourself sitting comfortably with him, aggressively licking on the vanilla ice cream he’d gotten you from an ice cream man that passed by. It’s a great way to kill the time – or just to enjoy the day despite the rough start – because the sunlight feels warm on your skin, the trees above you shading you from extra shade.

Next to you, Sukuna is surveying his ice cream with the least interest, his brows furrowed as he notes, “Your crush is toxic. I suggest you cut ties with him and get it all over with.”

In part of making you feel better, Sukuna’s subtly given you clues you could tell him whatever’s going on in your mind. It makes you wonder if maybe you’ve been that obvious that even Sukuna could read you, but you’re thankful that he understood, because you really did want to rant about it. Your friends are just a one call away, but they’re not any better. They’ll keep claiming ‘Megumi just needs time’ because they know it’s what you want to hear to make yourself feel better. Though, every once in a while, you needed to talk to someone who could actually slap the harsh reality at your face, and who else would be more suitable than a mature adult like Sukuna?

Looking at him now, the contrast between your roommate and your crush is immense. Where Megumi is all bark and no bite, all needy and never giving, Sukuna’s silent and compliant, an extremely good listener with the patience of a monk.

“It’s not that easy.”

“Yeah it is. Just block his number and avoid him. He’ll get the answer soon enough.”

“You don’t understand,” you groan in defeat. Sukuna faces you with worry written all over his face, seemingly tender in comparison to the tattoos marking his skin. Sometimes, it’s so easy to forget he’s actually a lot more decent than Fushiguro fucking Megumi, but you end up slipping anyway, turning to the sky just as tears prick at your eyes. “I…I love him, okay? I’ve always been in love with him even though I know I’m just someone who warms his bed. I know that much and yet…I can’t seem to let him go.”

Sukuna is silent for a full minute. You thought he’ll offer you some adult wisdom only people like him would now, but Sukuna simply snorts, happily licking at his ice cream as if you didn’t just break down in front of him. “Shit’s tough then.”

“You’re great at comforting, you know that?”

“Oh, I wasn’t comforting you,” he smiles and pats your knee, “Come on, let’s go home. I know just how to take your mind off things.”

With the way he’s caressing your thigh and his voice turned an octave lower, you chastise yourself for feeling aroused when you wanted to cry just seconds ago. But his fingers are inching closer and closer to your inner thigh, and he’s warm and strong – so fucking nice too that perhaps fucking him wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

But like always, Sukuna never fails to surprise you.

You expected he’d take you right to his room the moment you’ve crossed the door, but Sukuna dashes for the TV before carrying a huge blanket and heaps of pillow. You watch there, stunned. He makes quick work of fluffing the pillows before grabbing your wrist and pulling you above him the same way Megumi did a while ago.

The only difference? Your heart doesn’t skip a beat. You’re not intoxicated by his scent. You’re not trying to squirm away from him nor do you feel like a silly little schoolgirl who’s fallen in love at first sight.

Where Megumi is deceivingly charming, Sukuna is more like a strong pillar to lean on, which you do exactly. Your head rests on his shoulder, both of your legs tangled under the blankets he’s covered you with. He’s blinking as Tangled plays on the TV, the faint sensation of his fingers playing with yours comforting and way too comfortable. It should feel weird to hang out with a guy like this without him wanting to shove his dick deep inside you minutes later (your movie marathons with Megumi never really finish as previously planned) but with Sukuna?

It feels natural. It feels great. It feels like home.

You’re gaping at him long before you realize it, one of your hands absentmindedly playing with the strings of his hoodie. Sukuna hums along to I Have A Dream with a small smile on his face, one that forms into a playful glare as he catches you staring at him. “Don’t look at me like that. Disney is a classic.”

You fight back a smile. “Wasn’t complaining,” burying yourself deeper into his warm embrace, you’re lulled into an early slumber with Sukuna’s humming combined with the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

His plan worked efficiently – for a moment, you forget your heart was aching to begin with.

After screaming internally for a good hour and a half, you arrive at the party anyway. The stench of weed, alcohol, and sex hanging thickly in the air is more than familiar to you by now. You ignore the catcalls you receive as you make your way to Megumi and fuck, he just had to look even sexier tonight.

He’s ditched his e-boy getup with a plain white shirt, black ripped skinny jeans, a Converse, and that black leather jacket he always refused to wear. Megumi really woke up and chose violence today, the minimalistic silver chain around his neck only adding to his appeal. You should’ve run away then – he literally screams trouble – but you’ve never been one to shy from that. Truth be told, you’re only pulled in harder, swaying your hips side to side as you sashay to where he’s laughing along with his friends.

Clearing your throat to get his attention, Megumi finally lays his eyes on you.

You’re glad you took the extra time to dress in your best outfit today – a lace orange mini dress that accentuates your cleavage just enough for a tease, paired with black combat boots and a white purse slung from your shoulder. Pride pumps through your veins when Megumi steps away from his friends, his hands encircling around your waist almost possessively. He smirks through your hair, those addicting lips trailing lower and lower down to your neck until, “You smell like another man.”

Now that you weren’t expecting. He doesn’t seem to be mad, perhaps a little jealous judging by how he’s grinding his crotch to your abdomen and tugs you closer, but this is Megumi in the question. He never gets jealous, so you flatten your palms onto his chest, eyes daring and red lips upturned into a smirk as you ask, “Why do you care?”

Megumi raises a brow – which really shouldn’t have been such a sexy thing – at your spunk. Normally, you’re too sweet and submissive to him, never would’ve even dared to dress something as revealing like this, but maybe you’re tired of being sweet.

Maybe this time, you wanted to match Megumi’s spice, fight fire with fire.

Megumi chuckles above your lips and swipes a thumb over your lower lip, humming when the coating doesn’t stain his fingers. He’s mentioned before he hates washing the lipstick off his dick, and the fact you remember that has him groaning at your ear. Unsurprisingly, Megumi’s already hard. He nibbles at the shell of your ear, possessive hands brushing over your collarbone as a silent promise of what he’ll be doing to you tonight.

“Like I said, this pussy is mine.”

You should say no. It’s evident in the darkness of his eyes he’s daring you to say no, but it’s too much. The cramped space that diminishes space until it becomes a myth, his hands rubbing circles at your hip, the glint of his new lip ring under the disco lights and anything, everything about Fushiguro Megumi just makes you feel so weak you can’t say no.

Satisfied with your silence, Megumi sweeps you upstairs. There’s already a round of Truth or Dare going on with a bunch of drunk and half-high college students, the lights red and the aroma of weed thick in the air.

It bothers you so you stick close to Megumi, nose stuck at the collar of his leather jacket. He’s not satisfied with just you sitting next to him; Megumi is territorial. He makes sure you’re comfy and using his lap like a throne, clasping both your hands in your lap while he boredly stares at his friends. Okkotsu Yuta, the host who used to be super shy in his freshman year but became one of the most sought after guys in his junior year, sits across from you in the circle. He’s already giggling in his drunken state while Nobara Kugisaki makes the mistake of choosing dare, flinging her bra straight at a very enthusiastic Yuuji.

They spin the bottle and it lands straight at you. Megumi hums in anticipation at the crook of your neck, his little sounds mixed with his heated touches sending fire straight down your core. It’s inebriating to have him this close, but you need to keep a straight head if you want to survive.

Fighting the arousal pooling at your stomach, you offer a flat smile. “Truth.” As expected, the crowd isn’t pleased. They holler, “Booooo,” with their hands cupped around their mouths, the others snickering at you, though you’re quite satisfied with the safety of your choice. You could be crazy with Megumi, but being crazy around others isn’t something you’re comfortable with.

Thankfully, Yuta shushes the crowd dramatically with a threat he’ll kick them out with his infamous Katana that’s been passed down by an ancestor. Once everyone’s calmed down, Yuta smirks at you, eyes wiggling as he asks, “Who’s the best dick you ever had?”

You don’t think twice about it. Someone else’s face pops up for a split second, but it’s so natural, so obvious that you would say – “Megumi.”

“Speak louder, baby, they won’t hear.”

“It’s you,” you suddenly grow shy at the attention, whatnot with Megumi shamelessly trailing hot kisses down your neck now for everyone to see. He’s shameless as he rocks you back and forth on his thigh, all the while keeping eye contact with the other guys whose eyes are zeroed in on the swell of your breasts that are an inch away from popping out from your dress. It’s the best time to submit, the perfect time to give him what he wants, and his expert hands prompt his name out of you with a single suck at your neck.

“Fushiguro Megumi.”

“Damn, Megumi, you’ve trained your bitch well.”

“’Course I did. My dick does all the disciplining,” Megumi cups your jaw to tilt your face at him, cooing at you as you flush embarrassed from everyone’s snickering. “Aw, don’t pout baby, it’s all just harmless jokes. You know I treat you like a goddess when we’re alone.”

“Yo, man, get a fucking room!”

Megumi ignores Yuuji’s comments and makes an offhanded comment the latter is just jealous because he hasn’t had his dick wet in days, ensuing a close dog fight between the guys. Maki has to step in and kick the strawberry haired boy back to his seat, scolding her cousin to back down. Meanwhile, you cling to Megumi like a scaredy-cat, head empty with nothing but the way he’s never hold you this close and proudly before.

Just one last time.

“Megs, your turn.”

“Dare.”

Yuuji slaps his palm over Yuta who usually gives the dares. The older guy rolls his eyes but lets it slide, knowing that Yuuji could also let loose with his dares. Megumi isn’t afraid though, he stays docile around you, leaving little nibbles at your ear and even squeezing your boobs at one point. You know he’ll never back down from Yuuji’s dares, even as his eyes darken with mischief. Now, Yuuji is a nice guy, but something doesn’t quite feel right with the way he’s staring Megumi down.

“I dare you to kiss the hottest girl in the room.”

Megumi freezes.

Time must’ve stopped because everyone is chanting, “KISS, KISS, KISS!” but he makes no move. You stay there, staring up at him wide eyed with your arms looped around his neck. Your heart is beating a mile a minute in your chest the moment Megumi’s eyes gaze down to your lips, smirking as he leans closer, leans down lower, and you close your eyes, waiting for the salacious kiss that would sear at the back of your mind. But it never comes and a gust of wind flies by through you, and before you know it, Megumi’s leaned over your shoulder, his hand cupping the cheek of this girl named Alicia who you’ve heard about from your friends before that she’s Megumi’s current pick.

Alicia was never supposed to kiss him back. Your friends told you, they promised you she wasn’t the type of person to fall for the likes of Megumi, and yet she’s smiling through the kiss. You’re still in Megumi’s lap but your vision is of the audience, their jaws dropped and Yuuji slapping Yuta’s thighs. “Oh, shit! That’s gotta hurt!”

You don’t think twice.

You push yourself off Megumi and run out the room, the sounds of their chaotic laughter mocking you to no end. You know – you fucking know – you’d never quite belong in Megumi’s circle. Everyone knows you’re just another one of his bed warmers, and they also know how much you’re hopelessly in love with him, begging, hoping that one day he might return your affections.

It makes perfect sense with each step you take further from the room. This has to be staged, intentional, because there’s no way Yuuji would’ve said that if he didn’t already have an idea maybe Alicia reciprocated Megumi’s feelings.

But what about your feelings?

Does no one really care? Were you really reduced to just another body count?

Your chest squeezed uncomfortably as you pushed past the crowd, ignoring everyone’s protests from how rough you were. You don’t stop until you’ve locked yourself inside a restroom, tears freely falling down your face. With trembling hands, you fall back to the floor, dialing the only person you could trust right now.

He picks up not three rings later, voice still gruff and laced with sleep. “Hello?”

“S-Sukuna,” you whimper, pathetically wiping your tears away with the back of your hand. “I’m – can you please pick me up?”

From the other line, you can hear Sukuna shuffling for something in the background. Keys dangle and he locks the door, the sounds of his rushed footsteps so relieving to your senses. “Where are you? What’s wrong? Did someone force themselves on you?”

“No, I just…I want to go home.”

“Text me the address. I’ll be there soon.”

You text him the address and end the call. From the outside, the bass is thumping so hard it makes your head pound. You’re already feeling dizzy from crying so much, hands clutched around your chest because it hurts so much.

Stupid Megumi, fucking stupid Megumi – but aren’t you the stupider one? You’re the one who chose to keep being with him despite the warning signs. You’ve heard what everyone said about him, his reputation as a fuckboy isn’t exactly a secret, but you hoped, you sincerely hoped you could at least be good enough. But you’re not not good enough – Megumi just simply doesn’t deserve you. You deserve better and he needs to go to hell, so then why does it hurt so much the more you picture how he’s humiliated you like that?

Your dress is beyond soaked from how much you’ve cried. At this point, you just feel achingly numb. The pounding in your head is matched by the soft knocks rapping against the door, and thinking it’s Megumi or one of his lackeys, you wrap your arms around your knees.

“GO AWAY!”

“Sweetheart, it’s me. Open up, let’s get you home,” It’s Sukuna. Scrambling for the door, you push it open and jump into his arms without a second thought. Sukuna effortlestly catches you, and the dam you thought had dried up in you breaks again. He stiffens as you cry on his shoulder, fists balled around his shirt in a vice-like grip. “Who the fuck made you cry? Is it him again?” he growls, “I seriously want to knock the living daylights out of him.”

“Don’t start a ruckus, Sukuna.”

“I won’t, I promise,” he visibly softens at your state. Sukuna rubs your back soothingly and lets you cry like that, shielding your vulnerable state with his arm. He moves you to hide your face in his chest and kisses the crown of your head, so gentle and unbelievably tender. “I don’t pick on someone weaker than me. That’s bullying.”

You don’t utter another word as he leads you out of the house. He mutters under his breath on how kids are so wild these days and he really can’t imagine he was once like that. Sukuna’s car is parked on the curb, and you rush for it, eager to go home until he stops you. He wraps his jacket around your shoulders to offer you some modesty and you offer him a weak smile, allowing him to embrace you from the sides to guide you.

“Hey!” Megumi calls out, “Hey, what are you doing with her? Let her go,” his footsteps echo behind you just as you clench your eyes shit, “I said let her go!”

“Don’t punch the kid, don’t punch the kid, don’t punch the kid,” Sukuna mutters to himself like a mantra.

“Yo, steroid guy, you deaf or what? I said let my girl go—” Megumi falls on his ass. He stares up at whoever punched him, eyes wide at Sukuna’s arm raised, but his eyes are on you. “Ow! You fucking bitch, you broke my nose!”

“Shit,” Sukuna laughs beside you as you wince at the soreness of your knuckle. “That was hot.” Somehow, you find the ability to smile. You’ve always wanted to top Megumi, but seeing him below you like this, weak and clutching his broken nose while whining about it like a little bitch, it feels a lot more satisfying.

You want to scream at him, to release all the profanities that have manifested your anger throughout the years. But Megumi crawls back with something unreadable in his eyes, the edges of his lips tinted red with a smack of lipstick, probably from Alicia.

The sight has you scoffing. Maybe you don’t have anything to worry about after all – Megumi hates lipstick stains with a passion. If he ever gets with her, they won’t last long enough.

That fact is enough for you to flip your hair over your shoulder, glaring at Megumi one last time before dragging Sukuna down by the collar. His laughter ceases the moment your lips collide, your hands teasing around his neck to brush at his undercut. Sukuna moans through the kiss, the way he’s explicitly grabbing the flesh of your ass a sign he’s aware what kind of game you’re playing. You make a mental note to apologize for this later, but for now, you’ll shamelessly savor his tongue and the minty aftertaste, grabbing at his large frame that picks you up with no ease.

You leave Megumi gaping at the lawn after that, your finger middle raised right before Sukuna speeds off.

Fuck, that has never felt so good. This feeling…it bursts through you. There’s this certain satisfaction in finally having the power at your fingertips this time around, and you you’re your wicked smile through your hair, too absorbed in your own feelings that you don’t register Sukuna’s worried tone at first.

“So…do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” He doesn’t pry afterwards, just shoots you a curious look. Just moments ago, you were crying and feeling like you’re on the verge of breaking down, but this adrenaline rushing through absolutely cannot fuck around anymore. The image of Megumi realizing he’s lost you is so exhilarating, and you twist your torso to face your roommate, grinning at his handsome features. He looks so delicious like this, black button up shirt left open at the top, his veiny, muscular arms driving one hand on the steering wheel and the other gently caressing your thigh. You suck in a deep breath, licking your lips as you purr, “Hey, Sukuna.”

“Yes?”

“Pull over.”

“Wait, why? We’re so close at home.”

“Pull over, I’m done,” you insist with a glare, although the animosity isn’t directed at him. Sukuna keeps his eyes on the road before he spares you a glance, smirking at how you’re already unclasping your bra from your seat.

“Oh, I see how it is. You’re going to use me as a stress reliever.”

At his words, your arms still behind you. You glance up at him with wide, worried eyes that immediately reach out for his hands in assurance. “N-No, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Usually, sex is a lot crazier when the other is angry. Use me as you will – I don’t really care,” he licks his lips and suddenly slams on the brakes under an empty parking lot, already flipping something in the engine. You’re taken aback as Sukuna discards his shirt in a second, his large arms carrying your frame to the backseat with him. Sukuna spreads your legs as he helps you get rid of your dress but it’s too tight that you just give up, leaving the material bunched under your boobs instead. Sukuna’s eyes darken at the lack of material under your dress, his fierce gaze shooting up to yours as he massages your inner thighs, his breath labored.

“What position do you want?”

“Fu-fuck, I don’t know, just fuck me,” you whine, spreading your legs farther to make space for him. He’s a tall guy with long limbs that he shrinks even with his fancy car, but he doesn’t seem bothered by it. Sukuna seems a lot more focused in fucking you in that moment because he’s unhooking his belt, diving down for one more kiss that is a lot heated and rushed than the previous one for show.

“I want to get rid of his face from my mind, I fucking hate him so much,” you can’t help but bite down on Sukuna’s lip, hard enough that it draws blood. Sukuna groans into your mouth, the sound so utterly deep and sexy you drip down on his seats even more.

“You’ll still go back to him after this?”

“No…it would be stupid if I did,” you roll your eyes.

“Good girl,” Sukuna praises as his lips leave a wet trail from your jaw down to the valley of your breasts. His smile is quickly replaced with a sinister grin, one of his hands cupping your breasts at the same time his teeth dart out to playfully nip at your breasts. He really shouldn’t look so enticing under you like this, and you’re so caught by his devilishness you fail to realize he’s already rummaging through your purse. “But I think lover boy still doesn’t get the message. We’re gonna have to punch it through his dumb skull.”

He hands you your phone, Megumi’s contact right before you.

“Sukuna, what’re you doing?”

“Call him,” Sukuna moves up to fish a condom out of his wallet and slides it to his already throbbing cock, chuckling at the way your eyes widen at his girth as if you hadn’t taken him before. “Call him and let him hear how I fuck you better, sweetheart. Boys like him won’t get the message unless you tell them directly.”

His hands clutch the backseat until his knuckles turn white, aligning himself with your entrance. You’re wet enough that he slides in easily and you moan loudly at the intrusion, pretty little gasps a sign of your pleasure. Helplessly, you grip at his bicep while your legs shake from how tense you are, the tantalizing movement of his hips pulling breathless moans from you. “And what better way than to take what’s his, right? What did he call this? His pretty pussy?” Sukuna scoffs, “Fuck that, stupid little boys can’t even fuck you right, don’t you think, sweetheart?”

“Ngh, Sukuna, that f-feels good, right there!”

“Right here?” he teases with a stroke of his cock that brushes against your tight walls. Sukuna’s face contort into pleasure when your tight pussy sucks him in, falling forward just to rasp in your ear. “Call him. Then, I’ll fuck you however you want me to.”

You don’t know how you’re able to swipe on Megumi, but he picks up in the speed of light like never before. Sukuna mouths loudspeaker and you follow his commands, Megumi’s voice booming through the sex-filled air of the car. “Where the fuck did you go? The party wasn’t over yet and you’re hanging out with some beefy, tattoed guy? It’s your roommate, isn’t it?” Megumi curses at someone before continuing, the aggravation evident in his tone. “He’s such a fucking creep, I swear if he lays his hands on you again I’ll—”

“You’ll do what, kid?” Sukuna challenges, “Oh and mind you, she’s the one who asked me to fuck her. As her concerned roommate and the more mature adult, I believe it’s my duty to listen to her complaints and make her feel better, especially when she keeps whining she’s not being fucked good.”

“Sukuna!” You whine and slap his arm, but you’re smiling, the pleasure and satisfaction of slapping Megumi this harshly making you feel greater than ever.

“Are you sleeping with her?” Megumi sounds like he’s losing his shit, and you sincerely hope he does. “Gosh, Y/N, how low can you be? I thought you were my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend? Since when?” you attempt to scream, but Sukuna’s gripped your thighs and pulls your lower body closer to his cock in time to meet his thrusts. Your body slides off the seat and you’re left screaming Sukuna’s name, the latter wearing a shit-eating grin at the way you’re creaming around him. Somehow, your attention reverts back to Megumi’s whining. “You’re a fucking dick, Megumi, I honestly hope you choke on your small dick!” you shout and end the call, slapping your hand on your face as you throw your phone away. “I hated saying that.”

“Because you still like him or…?”

“No, because he was actually a good fuck and his dick is huge,” you say through pants. Sukuna must’ve hated how you’re talking about Megumi’s dick when he’s literally rearranging your insides, and Sukuna grabs your leg, manhandling you into the position he likes. You’re immediately on your knees with your back flat to his chest, your arms locked between your bodies as Sukuna takes you from behind. Your head falls back to his shoulders where Sukuna leaves messy open-mouthed kisses to your sweaty skin. “I fucking hate him. He’s such an asshole.”

“Hmm, well don’t spend too much energy thinking about him anymore,” Sukuna snarls at your skin, releasing your hands just to rub at your swollen clit. “Just let loose and let me take care of you. I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t even remember meeting him.”

The honest side of you wants to moan, the familiar tightening of your abdomen appearing already. He’s hitting all your sensitive spots that you can barely think, only feel, but you also feel so powerful and enraged that you cup Sukuna’s cheek, narrowing your eyes at him. You hit his thrusts by pushing back against his cock that causes him to slide in deeper, the large man groaning deep within his chest.

“You sure about that?”

“Oh, hundred percent confident, baby.”

“Let’s see what you got then,” you teased him. Pretending you’re not seconds away from coming is an even bigger challenge than leaving Megumi, but for the sake of riling up Sukuna, you would do it.

“You’re challenging me?”

“If I don’t cum at least twice, then that’s going to be a damn shame.”

“Twice? That’s not even the minimum,” he shakes his head tauntingly at you, increasing his pace until the sounds of his balls smacking your ass and both your groans are filling the dead silent night. It’s so lewd and dirty that your tongue lols out from the pleasure, eyes shut tight because you’re close, so fucking close! “You’re going to lose your fucking mind,” Sukuna said as a final warning.

You didn’t think too much of it until he pulls out of you seconds before you came. The crestfallen look written all over your face makes him laugh, but Sukuna only turns your body and goes down on his knees, hitching your legs over his shoulders. Your chest falls up and down as he dives down to your sopping, abused cunt, hands threading through his hair before he rudely flicks it away. “No. Hands to yourself. You’re not allowed to touch me,” he hissed, but his roughness is softened only by a little bit when you whimper so sweetly for him. “Don’t pout, sweetheart, you’ll get your chance when we get home. For now, since you’d so rudely woke me up and left me without inviting me for dinner, I’m starving.”

Sukuna dips between your thighs, tongue poking out to take the first taste of your juices. Your reaction is instantaneous and gratifying; head thrown back, nails dug into the seats, legs quivering and falling open wider to welcome the warm, wet muscle that licks flat from your entrance up to your clit.

“Fuuckk, Sukuna, slow down, ngh—”

“He ever ate you out this way?”

“No, I don’t know, I don’t know.”

“Can you take it, sweetheart? Should I stop?” You know he’s teasing you, the sniggers muffled from your pussy lips are still heard but you can’t fight back, not when your legs turn to jelly at his ministrations.

“Keep going, fuck, please, I will slap you if you don’t make me cum tonight,” you threaten, and Sukuna smartly responds by sucking your clit into his mouth. He rolls it between his teeth, careful enough not to hurt you while plunging two fingers deep inside you, curling it into a come-hither motion that stretches you pleasurably. “Too, oh, shit!”

“You can’t even talk properly,” he chuckles, and the vibrations that come afterwards shatter your entire world. “And this is just my tongue. Feels too good?”

“Yes, yes, too good!” you cry out, “Sukuna, em coming!”

Your orgasm has no build-up whatsoever. You lay there panting with a silent scream as your nails scratch against his seats, toes curled as it comes down into you in one, hard slap. Sukuna hums as he licks up the arousal trailing down your pussy to not make even more of a mess. “Already? I haven’t even started yet,” he sighs sarcastically, “Don’t think I’m done with you. I did say you’d lose your mind, right?”

Sukuna has now joined you on the seats, flipping you to the side where he hooks one leg under his arm, your other leg extended to your side that remains flushed at the seats, his thighs squishing yours. It’s utterly challenging to move in this position and you’re completely at his mercy, the sight of his tall, dominating figure above you forcing you back into a submissive space. He doesn’t give you much time to recover before his cock is pushing past your pussy once more, bottoming out in one, swift thrust.

“’Kuna, too sensitive, mhhm—”

“You’ll take it,” he breathes out while peppering kisses at your ankle, “Come on, you’re a good girl, yeah? Give me one more.”

“Su-kuna, it’s too much!”

“Just one more.” Sukuna elicits moans from you the harder he thrusts, leaning forward until you’re crying out from the stretch of all the muscles in your body. He’s being nice today by letting you cum more than twice in the exchange of holding back his, because he’s absolutely throbbing inside you. He picks up a rougher pace from where he left off, saying your name through gritted teeth as you tighten around him. You’re squealing and whimpering from behind your fists, overly sensitive still from your previous orgasm.

His hips roll in such a mind-numbing manner before Sukuna rams into you utterly deep, your bodies flushed so close you can feel the heat pulsing from his skin. Sukuna tenses above you before he brings you to your orgasm, with him following not long afterwards.

Sukuna pulls out with a groan and ties his condom in a knot, discarding it above his clothes. Upon hearing your soft sighs, he immediately rushes your side and pats your cheek to wake you up. “Hey, look at me,” he commands, though his voice is gentle and soft. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out through fluttering lashes, “Yeah, I’m just tired,” extending your arms to him, you wrap your legs around his waist to bring him close. “Come here. Want cuddles.”

Sukuna gives in to your request for a few minutes and stays wrapped up with you. It’s perfect to be in this state, to be held so close and not just touched, the intimacy of it all bringing about unfamiliar warmth that only ever makes itself present when he’s here. “As much as I want to stay like this, we’re sweaty and sticky,” Sukuna murmurs through your hair, his hands roaming all over your skin. There’s no other sexual meaning behind it even as his rough palms graze past your mound. His touches are more like him exploring your body out of curiosity, out of the desire to just have you this close. You’re unsure what to feel about it and your mind is uncannily clear after an orgasm, but Sukuna’s already sitting up with you above him before you could ponder about it any longer. “Let me take you home first, then we’ll cuddle. What do you think?”

“Oh fuck,” you cut him off upon seeing the flashing of your screen. “It’s Megumi. Fifteen missed calls.”

“Lover boy is crazy,” Sukuna snickered behind you.

“Good thing I’m crazier,” you shut your phone off and throw it to the passenger’s seat, beaming up at Sukuna and giving him the puppy eyes from behind your shoulder. “Can we get milkshakes on the way?”

“I think you got enough milk.”

“Sukuna!”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” he raises his hands in surrender. You pout until you feel something hard and wet poking your bottoms, and Sukuna smirks, gesturing to his erection that you haven’t noticed. “You do know that I’m still hard, right? I’ll fuck you again when we get home.”

“You could’ve just let me suck you off.”

“Nah,” he refuses, “I want to feel you come around me,” Sukuna cockily winks at you, and your mouth falls open, gasping in disbelief at how vulgar he could be. He steals a quick kiss then as he tugs his pants up, the sight of him rolling his sleeves back up to his elbows thoroughly…compelling that you’re left salivating at the ripples of his muscles. “I’ll just wait ‘til we get home. Right now, I need to treat someone like a princess and get her some food.”

“You should stop saying that,” you blurt out defensively, “Sweet lies won’t get you anywhere.”

“I wasn’t lying about anything. I meant every word I said.”

The tension thickens in an instant. Sukuna looks at you warily – or perhaps worriedly? – before he situates himself back in the driver’s seat, starting the car right after you’ve fixed your appearance. Considering it’s already late, he’s struggling to find any restaurant or diners open to appease your cravings, though he doesn’t complain about it.

You fiddle with your hands on your lap, unable to find a proper explanation to his behavior. “Sukuna…” you start off nervously, refusing to look him in the eye. “Do you uhm…do you like me?”

“What kind of question is that, sweetheart?”

“I meant…maybe you just like me for my body, you know?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me, sweetheart,” he tilts his head towards you, “I’m too old for drama and playing with people’s feelings. Like I said, the cards are all in your hands now. If you want us to just have casual sex, I don’t mind, but if you also want to be, uhm…” Sukuna awkwardly rubs at the back of his head with a clear of his throat, the tables turned because now he’s the one who can’t meet your gaze. “…something more, then I won’t refuse that either. I’m up to whatever you want to do.”

“And if I said that…maybe I’m considering getting to know you better?”

“Then maybe I would happily say yes.”

You smile at how easily he lightens up the mood, feeling a smile already playing on your lips as you giggle. “Just a maybe?”

“Just shut up and kiss me,” he groans, averting his eyes from the road (it’s empty anyway) to get a quick peck. You whack his arm and his laugh only grows louder; he knows you’re not really angry, because he kisses really good and you like it a lot more than you’ll admit.

“I’ll be a hundred times of a better boyfriend than what you’d expect.”

“You’re really confident, huh?”

“Oh, I’m confident I can treat you well,” he nods proudly, head tipping back to the backseat. “I did just let you ruin my leather exterior and let you walk away while I have a raging boner. Do you have any idea how much self restraint a man has to have to let that happen?”

“Probably an immaculate one. Megumi would never let me go unless he’s came.”

“Yeah, well, fuck that guy,” Sukuna doesn’t even bother to try and hide his hatred for your former crush, and you’re smiling like a lovesick fool on the seat. “You’re with me now. So, since I want to spoil you, how many milkshakes do you want?”

Back then, you were always too addicted to lies that seemed so sweet that you couldn’t be able to stop. But now that you’ve met Sukuna, perhaps the blissful truth is a lot sweeter, and it’s a much healthier addiction you’ll take any day.

taglist: @thesimpsclub @uwubby-1 @expectoscamander @your-consulting-fangirl @dora-the-grownup @cosmotoic @charlie-xo @kittaliapenn @sukunas-cult-leader @flowersgirl02 @cloudsinthecosmos @90s-belladonna @averysheart-raleighsdick @generousstudentpsychic-bat @kat-su-ki @issamomma @sklycan @ggsmashgg @dora-the-grownup @ninefuckingoneone @ambiguous-something

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dracowars · 3 years

Note

LOVED YOUR TOM RIDDLE. Can I please request a arranged marriage au where yn is in love with him but he hates her so when she decides to let him go or someone else wants to marry her, Tom finally realises he’s in love with her. happ ending :))))

my heart belongs to you | tom riddle

pairing: tom x black!reader

word count: 3,3k

summary: where tom and y/n are in an arranged marriage

a/n: i'm so sorry for being so inactive recently, uni is taking its toll on me.. i had to do a bit of research for this one and also tom is a pureblood here!

warnings: toxic relationship, violence

universe: harry potter

“Get out of my sight, will you?”, he angrily snaps at you out of nowhere, for the third time already on this still very early day. Furiously, he stomps past you, pushing you to the side harshly, the filled glasses on your tray swaying dangerously. Knowing that you should just leave him alone, you stand there completely frozen at the door, still feeling the breeze on your skin after he stormed past you.

The glasses clink on the serving tray as you try to keep your trembling hands under control, but you terribly fail while tears shoot into your eyes. A lump forms in your throat and you gasp in desperation, losing your composure after hearing the front door slam shut.

Slowly, you slump down and therefore with a loud rattle let happen what could have been foreseen already: a thousand shattered pieces of glass scattered across the floor around you while you cower against the wall, your elegant dress pulled over your knees, your forehead leaning against it. Heavy sobs rock through your body and tears find their way down your cheeks, dripping from your chin onto the expensive fabric of your dress.

You just wanted to spend some time with him. Together, in the house of your parents, who went on a daily trip with their close friends early in the morning, all part of the most notorious popular pureblood families in the wizarding world – the Nott’s, the Macmillan’s, the Malfoy’s, the Lestrange’s. And if his parents were still alive, probably with the Riddle’s as well.

This is primarily the reason why you even are in this position right now; crying and huddled in the living room because your fiancé hates you profoundly.

After graduating from Hogwarts last year, the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, you, descendant of the pureblood Black family, got engaged to Tom Marvolo Riddle, the last living heir of the Riddle’s. He would offer you a good future, they said, and you would never have to worry about anything again.

But nobody knows that in reality, your own beloved fiancé really does not want to have anything to do with you. He does not even want to stay in the same room as you.

You can’t explain why he acts like this towards you. You do not know why he harbors such an abysmal hatred for you and any clear-headed, rational person would have done something about it long ago. Unfortunately for you, you feel the exact opposite for him.

Your heart belongs to him and only to him.

You have liked him since you first met him at Hogwarts, back in 1938, when the two of you were sorted into the Slytherin house. This initial friendly liking has quickly evolved into something more than that over the years and lead you to where you are now, at a point where you would have never seen yourself back then.

You have already tried everything to convince him that you are not as bad as he seems to think. Every morning you bring him his breakfast, you give him everything he needs. Even when you were still at Hogwarts, you always looked after him, finished his homework for him when he was too busy to do it by himself, and helped him pass all of his exams.

And not once did you hear a thank you. Not then and not now either.

Slowly gathering your thoughts together again, you rub the long sleeves of your velvet dress over your damp face, wiping away all of your tears before you get up on shaky legs and begin to clean up the mess that you have created. After you went back to the kitchen with the broken pieces and some injuries on your hands, your gaze longingly slides out the window.

Outside, the sun stands high over the magnificent garden of the mansion, making the clear water in the fountain shimmer in its bright light. A gentle breeze blows through the air and rustles through the perfectly cut trees that line a small path through the garden.

The loud, excited voices that suddenly roar through the house snap you out of your daydream and you quickly wipe the blood from your fingers before you step into the huge marble entrance hall. You arrive at the front door just in time to open it for your parents, who, to your surprise, did not come back alone. You are amazed to find not too familiar faces in front of you as they climb up the stairs to the door where you are still standing.

“And that has to be Y/N. Oh, how you have grown!”, an older man smiles friendly at you and you return his smile with a certain uncertainty in your face.

“Darling, we brought guests over for dinner today. You surely remember the Lestranges?”, your father announces happily and only now do the faces that you have seen at numerous balls and celebrations seem familiar again. Especially one.

“Reinhard?”, you ask in amazement when you spot him standing behind his parents, a big smile on his face when he sees you.

“Y/N, how nice to see you again”, he grins, carefully pushing his way past your parents in order to slightly bow venerably to you, taking your hand in his to place a kiss on the back of it. “It has been some time.”

“I am sure you have a lot to tell each other”, your mother mentions in a sweet voice, but before she can continue, she watches how your facial expression changes from one second to the other as you look past them, out into the yard.

Next to the carriage with which they have returned, Tom is standing now, petting one of the splendid noble white horses before he joins all of you.

“Tom! There you are, I was already wondering where you went”, your father says, visibly pleased when he too spotted his future son-in-law, drawing everyone’s attention to him.

“Reinhard?”

“Tom?”

Within a few seconds, the two former best friends lay in each other’s arms, obviously happy to finally see the other again.

“Let us go inside. We want to show you our newest masterpiece of art in our wonderful collection, come on”, your mother announces happily and leads the Lestranges inside, but not without turning around to you once more. “The children can catch up on what they have missed.”

“I can’t believe it! You are really here, Tom. Man, you look even better than at Hogwarts”, Reinhard laughs, playfully pushing Tom to the side while you watch them in silence. “What are you doing here with the Blacks?”

“They kindly took me in”, Tom lies to him and for a moment you think he threw you a glance out of the corner of his eyes after uttering these words. His statement makes Reinhard realize that you were still there with them, who had apparently completely forgotten that you were even there.

“I am so happy to see you again, Y/N!”, he grins and takes a step closer to you, probably to be able to take a closer look at you. “Still just as beautiful as I imagined. And just as smart, I guess?”

Reinhard’s sudden compliments make you blush and your cheeks glow, which is why you nervously avert your gaze from him, directly falling on Tom, who looks at the scene in front of him with incredible resentment.

Unlike Tom, Reinhard was always there for you. You spent a lot of time together in your school days and if your parents had known about your close friendship, you are sure that he would have been your fiancé by now. Which, to be honest, does not sound bad anymore right now.

And yet your heart still belongs to Tom.

When you all sit together at dinner later in the evening, where your parents are talking about irrelevant things like Ministry of Magic, you keep making eye contact with Reinhard, who seems to be staring at you.

“Is there something on my face?”, you ask uncertainly and put your glass back on the table when you can no longer bear his piercing gaze.

“No, no, not at all. I was just wondering how a beautiful witch like you could have become so much more stunning”, Reinhard winks at you, causing you to swallow hard. You are not used to getting compliments, especially not from a handsome young man like him. Before you can answer to him, however, there is a loud clink and you startle, your eyes immediately fixed on the cause of the noise.

The glass, which you have certainly placed far away from the edge, is now lying in your lap, the little liquid that was still inside now spread over your elegant evening gown. You move your chair back in shock when, in the corner of your eye, you see how Tom puts away his wand. And not only did you notice Tom just now, but the rest of them follow your gaze.

“Tom, darling, how about you tell our guests how you and our daughter got to know each other”, your mother suddenly prompts him, not even realizing that he has just deliberately spilled your drink on you. But why did he in the first place?

„I would love to“, Tom puts on a really believable smile that no one but you questions and starts telling them how you met and fell in love with each other. He tells one lie after another, explaining the web of lies that you have spun around you over time to make your relationship as credible as possible, at least in front of other people. And suddenly nobody cares about you or your still soaking wet dress anymore.

“What a wonderful story”, Mrs. Lestrange applauds and everyone else seems to be completely enthusiastic about Tom’s fairytale. To top it off, he then reaches across the table to take your hand in his, just like a real affectionate couple would do.

You lower your gaze as he gently strokes the back of your hand with his thumb, trying your best to not show how uncomfortable you are. Oh, how much you wish that this were real, that Tom would actually treat you like this when you are alone, the same way as he does in front of your parents.

But he does not and deep down you know that he will never do.

“So, you are engaged?”, Reinhard scrutinizes the statement of his former best friend, his eyes focused on you suspiciously, as if he is expecting an answer from you and not from Tom. A slight pressure on your hand makes you flinch and look up.

“Y-Yes”, you force a smile onto your lips, whereupon Tom seems satisfied with your answer, letting go of your hand again with a - what seemed to you like a – disgusted expression on his face.

An uncomfortable silence spreads between the three of you, which is drowned out by the loud conversation of the adults on the other side of the table. Finally, making up your mind, you clear your throat loudly and get up from your chair, gaining everyone’s attention in a matter of seconds.

“Excuse me, I have to go freshen up for a moment”, you explain with a slight polite bow before turning away to leave the dining room.

“Reinhard, would you be so kind and help Y/N”, Mr. Lestrange asks his son, who stands up with furrowed brows, apparently just as surprised about this sudden request as you, but then follows you out into the hallway with no further objection.

“I really do not need any help, thank you”, you try to get rid of him as you walk up the large staircase leading to the first floor together, only wanting to be alone.

“Dinner like these are totally boring anyway”, he chuckles softly and shows no intentions of leaving your side any time soon, which is why you do not even try to search for further arguments. He follows you to your room where you are able to tear yourself away from him to put on a new dress while he waits outside in front of the door.

With an equally elegant burgundy red dress you step out of your room after a few minutes, Reinhard’s eyes greeting you with a sparkle.

“Wow”, he breathes out barely audible and takes you hand without asking to swirl you around, causing your dress to fly around gorgeously. Unintentionally, warmth rises in your face again and your hearts makes a barely noticeable jump inside your chest when he looks deep into your eyes after catching you back in his arms.

The loud clearing of a throat behind you makes you turn around in shock, only to see that Tom himself is now standing at the end of the corridor, not seeming very enthusiastic.

“We did not see you there, Tom”, Reinhard disguises his obvious nervousness with a laugh, acting like Tom had just caught you in doing something he should not have seen. Tom, however, does not even react to his words, but looks past Reinhard at you, his eyebrows raised meaningfully.

But when you do not move under his piercing gaze, his facial expression changes and he quickly approaches you, Reinhard instinctively pushing you behind him so that you can only see Tom approaching further over his shoulder. Before neither you nor Reinhard can say or do anything, Tom has already pulled out his wand and aims it directly at Reinhard, who flies back through the air only a few seconds later, hitting the hard marble floor at the end of the corridor with a thud.

“What the-?!”

“Come with me”, Tom orders, now standing directly in front of you. When you stubbornly refuse, he suddenly grabs your wrist to pull you away from there. No matter how much you fight against his firm grip, you cannot tear yourself away from him as he pulls you into the closest room, which turns out to be the library.

Once there, you can finally free yourself from his tight grip, but before you can reach for the doorknob to leave immediately, he locks the door with a spell. Angrily, you turn to him, despair written all over your stunning face.

“What is this supposed to be, Tom? Let me out of here, now!”, you command him in a loud voice, not caring if anybody can hear.

“What did he want from you?”, he asks you urgently and steps closer to you. Since the door is in your back, every possible escape route is blocked, and you are caught.

“We just talked to each other, you know. Like normal people do”, you answer irritably and cross your arms in front of your chest, not in the mood to justify yourself, especially not in front of someone who does not care about you at all and not after what he has done.

“But that did not look like it.”

“Tom, stop it.”

“You belong to me and nobody else!”

These words coming out of his mouth echo loudly through the dark library, his face wrapped in an eerie candlelight. Before you can even control yourself and fully process what he said, you severely slap him.

Frightened by your own horrible deed, you immediately pull your hand away, your gaze filled with fear, but the anger that keeps building up inside of you winning the upper hand after all.

“How dare you call me your property?!”, you scream in rage and tears form in your eyes because of your uncontrollable anger. However, Tom needs a moment to collect his thoughts after your heavy smack before he can answer you.

“You are my fiancé”, he spits out coldly, a touch of shock in his voice, apparently not expecting you to react like this.

“And that does not make me nowhere near your property! You never treat me like your fiancé anyway, so why now all of a sudden?!”, you bicker at him, your voice loud and constant, even though you would like to flee from this situation right away if you were able to.

But Tom does not have an answer.

“Fine, okay. If you have nothing to say to me, like you never have, then I will go back now and ask my parents to end this damn failed engagement and engage me with someone else who truly cares for me!”

Suddenly, without letting you time to catch your breath after your outburst, he presses you with your back against the door completely, his hands tightly grabbing your wrists, a little too tight for your personal liking.

“You mustn’t do that”, he softly whispers, his head lowered as if he does not dare to look you in the eyes.

“What is stopping me?”, you hiss, still full of anger and – probably for the very first time – hatred towards him.

But when you feel his lips on yours all of a sudden, all of these emotions evaporate and all that remains is your racing heartbeat, which is being repaired at this very moment. You never would have thought that at some point in your life the moment would come when Tom Marvolo Riddle, who absolutely loathes his fiancé, kisses you.

After kissing you, he looks straight into your eyes, and the Tom you met in 1938 is standing in front of you again. The Tom you fell so deeply in love with.

“I can’t explain it to you”, he finally breaks the silence, his gaze directed to the floor as he moves away from you, giving you enough space to breathe regularly again. You, however, do not say anything but just stare at him.

“I was not aware that I am capable of feeling such feelings for someone. I am unfamiliar with this feeling and I did not know how to deal with it, Y/N. I treated you badly because I did not want it to be true, I did not want to accept it. I could not imagine having feelings for the little nuisance that has always been running after me”, Tom explains, choosing each and every single word very carefully, trying to put his emotions into words which does not really work the way he would like it to. But that is how you know him. You know that this confession must be extremely difficult for him, but you can’t help but feel a sense of relief inside of you.

“When?”, you ask and manage, with this tiny little word, to make him look up at you. “When did you know?”

“Since I have been here. You served me every day and took care of me, even though I wanted to push you away from me with all of my might. You have already helped me so many times in the past without me even asking, you have always accepted me for who I am”, he desperately tries to but his feelings into words, asking himself what he is even doing right now.

“Tom..”

“No, I have to sincerely apologize to you. I had no right to treat you the way I did. And also today.. when I saw you with him and how well you got along, it finally became clear to me. Reinhard has felt something for you since our school days, I know that even though I could never understand, but now I do. I understand why he fell in love with you”, Tom continues without breathing, pouring out all of his feelings that he has hidden for so long.

“I understand if you want to dissolve this engagement and I will not stop you if that is what you want”, he quickly adds, looking at you with desperation in his eyes. He already prepares himself for the worst when you are the one getting closer to him this time.

“Idiot”, you smile slightly and place a gentle kiss on his lips while he looks at you puzzled. “I love you, I thought you knew that.”

“I know, but-“

“But nothing”, you interrupt him and take his hand to lead it to your fast pounding heart. “It always belonged to you.”

853 notes · View notes

eulangelo · 3 years

Text

callout for @genderfluidlucifer

google docs

tw for transmisogyny + TERFs + emotional manipulation

Transmisogyny

Lucifer is a huge transmisogynist who will complain 24/7 about how TERFs hurt the ace community, but the moment @randomclustermissile , a trans girl (who is not an exclusionist at all) tries to point out transmisogyny in inclusionist circles (in the most vague and general way possible, without pointing fingers nor calling anyone names) Lucifer will immediatly jump to block her and so they did with me (another inclusionist) and i have to suppose to everyone else who agreed with that post, even arriving to vagueing about us in private group chats to suggest that we were “sympathizing with exclusionists”. all because we dared point out transmisogyny in inclusionist circles. lucifer is TME but apparently they think they’re the authority on TERFs and their talking points but actual trans women are not, according to them, since this is the stuff that they would go and spew to other people. (screenshots from @enbyoctoling)

here’s more examples of Lucifer (again, a transmasc person) going deep in detail about how according to them, TERFs/SWERFs hate aro/ace people and are an active threat to us

1. link

[Image ID: Three screenshots of a post by Genderfluidlucifer. The first screenshot is of a paragraph that reads, "Hey. So I can actually answer this. Anon your commentary about how you thought terfs would approve of sex repulsed aces is sort of it. Except...not. Basically terfs hate ace people for not wanting sex in the approved by terfs way. Terfs are actually extremely interested in [forcing] amatonormativity onto everyone. Because for as sex negative as terfs are...they don't want to actually acknowledge or change the fact that amatonormativity is at the root cause of rape culture and misogyny."

The second screenshot is a zoomed in section of the post that reads, "So yeah no I have NO idea where exclus allies are getting this idea from that terfs would even remotely care about the sexual rights of ace people. Terfs generally hate any sexualities in the LGBTQ+ acronym that aren't LGB because they can't force a gender binary onto those sexualities. At least, not as easily. That's why it's actually a massive sign of someone who doesn't call themselves a terf being a crypto terf if they use the term LGB in a positive manner. Along with the term SGA, as it is deliberately exclusive of nonbinary and not inherently SGA centric queer-aligned sexualities. /END ID]

link to the full post, these are just excerpts but the whole thing is just a very long rant about how TERFs hate ace people and so on (i think it’s worth noticing that although the actual post is kinda long, trans women are never once brought op in a conversation about TERFs issues and the only time transmisogyny is mentioned is not relevant to the conversation)

2. link

[Image ID: A screenshot of a reblog by genderfluidlucifer. The original poster is nothorses. It reads, "Because apparently I have to say it: Testosterone is not a 'violent' hormone. It doesn't make you 'more aggressive' or a worse person, it doesn't make you 'dangerous,' or 'toxic.' Transmascs do not need to be 'warned of the dangers of T.' We do not need to spend our transitions terrified that we're going to become a danger to those around us - that HRT is going to turn us into a monster.

Everyone experiences mood swings during hormonal shifts (pregnancy, menstruation, menopause, estrogen HRT, etc.) and while you might have grumpy moments or feel anger/frustration that you need to learn to handle differently, that doesn't make you a bad person.

Testosterone can change the way you access/process emotions somewhat, but if you're already thoughtful about how you handle your feelings and treat others, you're going to be fine. It's normal to lash out on occasion, by accident, then apologize and work to do better. It doesn't make you a bad person. Everyone on HRT is prone to this, and everyone experiencing hormonal changes is prone to this.

Getting HRT should be positive and affirming; you should not have to spend your entire transition terrified of becoming a monster."

The post then has a reblog by captainlordauditor that reads, "The big danger of T is that needle ouchy." /END ID]

here’s them reblogging from known transmisogynist user @nothorses (once again, the irony that a post about how testosterone is seen as the "aggressive hormone" does not mention transfem at all which are literally the main victims of this rethoric in the first place)

3. link (1), link (2)

[Image ID: Two screenshots of posts by genderfluidlucifer. The first screenshot reads, "Queer exclus: We're not repackaging terf rhetoric! Saying that is transmisogynistic! Also queer exclus: Remove the plus from LGBT!" and has tags that say, "I will pay these people to grow some god damn self awareness. Imagine being this dense. Queer discourse." The post has 15 notes.

The second screenshot reads, "Honestly it is so stupid and frustrating to see ace exclus continue to deny that the ace discourse was started by terfs. Proof was given countless times. And a big name terf like galesofnovember even admitted to starting it. Those of you who demand proof but ignore all of this never wanted proof to begin with." and is tagged with, "ace discourse. The post has 38 notes. /END ID]

heres another two post of theirs conflating TERFs with ace exclusionism

4. link

[Image ID: A screenshot of a reblogged post by furbearingbrick. The original poster is boxlizard, Lucifer's old account. The original post reads, "By the way for people still in denial about it, here's galesofnovember, a terf, admitting that she intended to start the ace exclus movement. She's taking credit for it. Normally if the victims of this behavior weren't ace/aro or other queer identities y'all be ready to rightfully lynch her. But since it's us, y'all just still wanna stamp your feet and go, 'Nuh uh!' instead of acknowledging facts." The part that says, "admitting that she intended to start the ace exclus movement" is a link to a galesofnovember post.

There is then a reblogged addition from furbearing brick that reads, "archived versions of the receipts" and has two links to the webarchive. The tags read, "Bringing this back since it's apparently still relevant. Terfism mention. Aphobia mention. Queerphobia mention. Blocklist." and has 1,455 notes. /END ID]

this is their post that ive already talked about but basically they found a 52 notes post made by a TERF in 2012 and this one person said "i dont know why i dont get to be the princess of the anti-ace-brigade" and apparently they are convinced that this means TERFs started the ace exclusionism movement and that this is one of their goals. which is insane when TERFs in real life only care about making life miserable for transfem people first and foremost.

5.link

[Image ID: A screenshot of a reblog by genderfluidlucifer. The original poster is yu-gay-fudo. It reads, “Just in case you happen to be unaware, some of the “radfem lite” they post to warm you up to their rhetoric, just off the top of my head:

- Ace/aro exclusionism

- Bi exclusionism or claims that bi people are “less queer” bc of “straight passive privilege”

- Saying you have to be dysphoric to identify as transInvalidating nonbinary people

- Calling queer a slur regardless of context, saying people can’t identify as queer, and saying that it can’t be reclaimed

- “Mogai hell”, “kweer”, or otherwise mocking less common labels and claiming they are “just cishets who want to feel special”

- Excluding sex workers from feminist discussions or claiming that sex work is inherently evil

- Basically anyone who thinks they can determine what other people identify as”. The tags read, "queerphobia tw. twerfs tw. no id." and has 70,727 notes. It was reblogged on March 22nd, 2021 /END ID]

another example of conflating radfems to things that, while wrong, have little to nothing to do with them because being a radfem, again, is something very specific that has all to do with transfem oppression.

Emotional manipulation

Lucifer has done nothing but block, break boundaries, spread lies and vague about people, some of which were even mutuals with them knowing they would see the posts. when confronted about it Lucifer's only answer was "just say you hate me and block me" but they actually ended up blocking everyone first, making it impossible for anyone to set some boundaries with them or even just to calmly confront them about anything.

[proof: Io(popncourse) and Lucifer had a disagreement in a shared discord server, which prompted Lucifer to vague Io in a vent post. Io confronted them, as being vagued is one of buns triggers, to which Lucifer initially agreed to delete the vent post, but then proceeded to victimize themself and immediatly blocked Io. later on, Jude(malewifedeckard) was confronted by Lucifer, then after Jude told them “I’m worried that you’ll vague me just like you did with Io” they proceeded to block Jude and vagued about him too. when Io made a post (which was not a callout, it was just bun setting buns boundaries) explaining what Lucifer did, Lucifer immediatly jumped to victimize themself, acting like they were being called out and straight-up lying, even going so far as to say that no one tried to hear them out, which is a blatant lie if you consider the aforementioned Io and Jude’s attempts at doing so, with Lucifer immediatly blocking and cutting ties with the both of them. ]

(screenshots taken by @popncourse and @malewifedeckard)

as seen in the proof above Lucifer’s behaviour is not ok because they don’t accept any kind of confrontation and immediatly jump to blocking, and after blocking, they'd immediatly go and vague about the people who confronted them pacificly, spreading more lies and painting themself as the victim and even arriving to say “no one hears me out at all” which is simply not something you can say when you block people who are trying to hear you out in the first place.

this is by no means an invitation to go and harass them, send them hate or anything like that. i absolutely don’t want anything even remotely hateful or negative to be sent their way after this post.

this post was only made because:

1. as an ace person who fully supports the inclusion of aspec identities in the lgbt+ community i don’t want to support an enviroment that costantly downplays transmisogynistic oppression in order to be taken seriously. there are hundreds of ways to make aspec activism without acting like we(as in TME aspecs)are the victims of a system that seeks for the annihilation of transfemenine people in real life everyday. i especially don’t want to support TME individuals who act transfem-friendly but then block any transfem who tries to speak on transmisogyny without a second thought.

2. Lucifer’s behaviour has hurt two friends of mine and i don’t want to associate with someone who actively breaks people’s boundaries without taking accountability when messing up.

3. i cannot associate with someone who spreads lies about me accusing me of sympathizing with exclusionists all while having me blocked so that i can’t see it nor defend me. they complain about people not hearing them out but they’re the very first person who does not try to hear people out, and instead jumps to spread baseless rumors. this is not someone i can nor want to associate with.

(image descriptions provided by @malewifedeckard)

#genderfluidlucifer #transmisogyny tw #terfs tw #ask to tag #txt #long post #ok to rb

350 notes · View notes

itgirlification · 3 years

Text

supermodel (2) | jjk

your story with jungkook never seems to end, yet you’re still worried about how it’s gonna end.

pairing: ex-bf!jk x thick!reader

warnings: TOXIC (i cannot stress this enough shit is hella toxic), yn is kinda (very) dumb, jungkook is an actual asshole, borderline mental abuse, infidelity, more insecuritiiiies, mentions/hints of sex, etc.

part one part three

There you were in his arms again, with only your panties and his shirt on.

At this point, you couldn’t even explain yourself. You were guilty, but you know what they say; love hurts.

With his arms wrapped around you and you clinging to him like that, you couldn’t care less about what was gonna happen next. You knew you were probably gonna have a mental breakdown when you go back to the dorms but for now, you were okay.

After he came over that night, he contacted you again. He said he didn’t want this to be serious, he wanted it to be a solely sexual relationship.

“You know, you’re the first girl I’ve been with, who seems to like getting hurt and degraded”, he sighs against your hair. “Sometimes I feel like you can’t get enough of it.”

You stayed silent. What were you supposed to do anyway? Tell him he’s right and stay like this for a while or react defensively and start an endless argument? You chose the first one.

“You’re the only woman that’d let me do all this stuff and still love me. Maybe that’s why I came back to you.”

Holding back the tears, you cling closer to his larger body, as if you were using him as some kind of shield. He thought you were an easy target and forgiving. What else would a man want from a woman he was only interested in fucking, a side piece? Even if she’s in love with him, she was gonna ignore that just to spend as much time with him as possible.

“It’s not like you actually came back.”, you responded, keeping your voice as stable as you could. “We’re just fucking.”

Jungkook sighed deeply, most likely noticing your petty undertone. “Don’t be like that. We aren’t fucking right now.”

You weren’t sure what point exactly he was trying to prove, you agreed to be his side chick. Did he think you didn’t know what a side chick was supposed to do? Because you did know, you just secretly thought you guys were meant to be, you weren’t just some side piece.

Looking around the motel room, your stomach began feeling weird. He wasn’t usually cheap, but you guessed he thought a side chick didn’t deserve a better environment than a cheap motel room rent for a night.

“Because we literally just did.”, you calmly said. You weren’t trying to piss him off.

But Jungkook wasn’t having it. Out of nowhere, he shoved you aside and put his hands over his face, noticeably frustrated.

“What happened?”, you weren't sure if asking that was the best option.

Jungkook turns his body to you. “What happened?? You keep on fucking me up and being a bitch about all this and you ask me what happened?”

He was so furious, his eyes were dark and his face was screwed up. You were now both standing, his tall figure towering over yours.

You saw his hand forming a fist and it would’ve been a lie if you said you weren’t terrified. He hasn’t touched you once throughout your relationship, but you never know.

“I didn’t even say anything. Maybe you’re just a little too sensitive.”, you were pouring salt on a wound at this point, but you didn’t want to be weak and let him talk to you like that.

“Me, sensitive?”, his tone was dangerously serene, as he leaned closer to your face. “If I wasn’t here with you, you'd probably still be crying over me. And you know where I’d be? Laying in bed with the beautiful model I have the privilege to call my girlfriend. Yn, I don’t need you. Don’t get bold with me, ‘cause we both know who’s gonna be heartbroken in the end.”

You couldn’t look him in the eyes, what did you get yourself into again? This wasn’t Jungkook’s fault, this wasn’t anybody’s fault but yours. You should’ve never opened up, you should’ve never said yes to being his side piece, you should’ve never been his girlfriend, to begin with. You stayed silent, but your loud sniffs and your uneven breathing said more than you could at the moment.

“I’m leaving.”, he announced coldly before throwing his black leather jacket over his broad shoulders, leaving you half-naked, crying on the poor-quality motel bed you just had sex on. When he got out of the motel room, you looked outside of the small window, watching him leave in the car he drove you here with.

Now, you had no other option than to call Jane to pick you up since your dorm was a half an hour walk away from the motel and you didn’t have the energy to walk for even a minute.

You weren’t sure if you had the energy for all the questions Jane was gonna ask you when she sees your mascara smeared face and your messy hair. Not to mention the motel. You weren’t a motel type of girl and she knew that.

Still, you called her and she answered almost immediately. “Yn? What happened? I thought you were gonna sleepover at your parents’?”

Sleepover at your parents’ house? You had almost forgotten the bad lie you told Jane just to have sex with Jungkook in this cheap-ass motel. And to think you were convinced you two were gonna stay the whole night.

“Uh”, you quickly coughed to cover up the voice cracks you got from crying. “Yeah, it’s a long story, please pick me up. I’ll text you the address.”

About 10 minutes later, Jane arrived and looked at you like you were out of your mind when you got into the car. “Yn, what the fuck? I was so worried about you. And this isn’t your parents’ house, this is a fucking motel. Did you meet a guy? Did he do something to you? Should I call the cops?”

“No, no, no, oh my god, please don’t”, you knew she was gonna ask a lot of questions. “I lied to you. So what actually happened was me and Jungkook reconnected an-“

She rolled her eyes. “Of course it was Jungkook. So I’m guessing he left you here?”

You hesitantly nodded.

“So when were you gonna tell me you ‘reconnected’ with him? When did you even ‘reconnect’ with him?”, she mockingly asked you. You weren’t blaming her for being pissed off, you’d have been too in this situation.

“A month ago? I think..”, you muttered.

“Hm”, Jane nodded, sighing at your naivety. “And when did he even break up with his model chick?”

You awkwardly looked away and Jane was hoping it wasn’t because of what she thought.

“He didn’t break up with her??”, Jane was beyond frustrated. “So.. you’re like his side chick now? Are we gonna stoop that low for men, yn?”

Jane always wanted the best for you and you knew she knew what was the best for you too, you were just too foolish. And too in love with a man you can’t force into loving you again.

“I know but please can we not talk about this right now? I just don’t feel like it.”, you asked, looking down on your fingers, ashamed of yourself.

“Alright, I’m sorry, babe.”, Jane hugged your side quickly, before starting the engine and heading back to the dorm. “You know I just want what’s best for you.”

You nodded, looking out of the window with your head full.

“Bella just texted me and said her birthday party will be 90s themed? Can’t she be a little more specific?”, Jane barged into the room, looking down on her phone in disbelief.

Bella was a person you two met at college in one of your shared classes. She was a sweetheart, but she was a little spoiled too. The only reason why she got into the college was that her rich daddy bribed them, but you couldn’t be mad, your parents would’ve done the same if they had the money.

She was extremely extroverted, a people person. She probably never had a boring day in her life with all the parties she threw whenever her dad and his 20 something-year-old girlfriend were on vacation or business trips. She even had some celebrity friends and would just casually post selfies with them on her Instagram story like it was a normal thing to do. She was basically living the dream, clueless about what real life for others really was about.

Jane had a love-hate relationship with Bella ever since they met. She thought Bella was a nice girl, but it was ‘unbearable’ to have a conversation with her because she was too self-centered to talk about anything else than herself.

You shrugged. “Just wear something Aaliyah would’ve worn.”

“Hm. Fair enough. It’s really not all that deep, actually.”, She said. “So what are you gonna wear?”

“I don’t even know if I’m going, Bella’s parties are boring.”, you answered honestly.

You really weren’t sure if you’d go. You did feel like seeing people and having a little fun but it wasn’t like you ever had fun at any of Bella’s parties. One time, a guy puked all over a new dress you bought just for the party, and another time, you were forced to drink 4 beer bottles. You hated beer.

“Why not? It’s gonna be fun and you’re coming.”, she decided for you, making you playfully roll your eyes. “And wear that black latex dress, I haven’t seen it on you in forever.”

To say that Jane was a fashionista would be an understatement. She was too invested in fashion to be bothered with anything else.

“Alright, but only if we don’t stay for long.”, you tried to compromise with her.

She nodded. “We gotta buy her presents though. Is there even anything she doesn’t have?”

You sighed, annoyed. “C’mon, there’s gonna be at least 200 people at that party, it’s not like she’ll notice if we just don’t get her anything. Besides, she’s rich as fuck.”

Jane snickered at your comment. “Girl, you must not know her, she checks every damn person and probably throws them out if they don’t buy her a Chanel bag or something. Bitch is a little crazy.”

It was amusing because you both knew that was exaggerated. Bella wasn't that serious about gifts. But let’s just say, for the money that her dad had, she was a little too greedy.

But you were too bothered with your own life than to worry about other's.

As soon as you arrived at Bella’s mansion, two security guards were standing in front of the door. They let you in as you showed them your invitations. It was a little bit extra, but that’s just how Bella was.

The first thing you noticed when you entered the house was the smell of sweat and weed. Already? You weren’t really surprised though.

Bella was standing there, wearing a skintight red dress that, ironically, didn’t really fit her own party’s theme. But she did look absolutely beautiful greeting her guests with the biggest smile on her glowing face. She had her strawberry blonde hair down in elegant beach curls and there were some cute butterfly clips placed in them.

You could recognize that it was her birthday from miles away. She was basically shining.

“Oh my god, Jane, Yn!! I’m so happy to see you guys!”, an overly keen Bella came, hugging you both with strength. “Oh, I see you got me something, girls you know you shouldn’t have!”

She tried hiding her smile at the bags in your hands, freeing the two of you from them immediately.

“It’s your birthday, Bella. We can’t just come here without any gifts, girl.”, Jane smiled. “Happy birthday.”

You looked to your side, admiring Jane’s acting skills. “Happy birthday, Bella! I can’t believe you’re 23 now.”

“I know right, if you were a year younger, you’d be as old as your dad’s girlfriend.”, Jane joked around, making Bella hysterically laugh.

“C’mon, almost everybody’s here already”, Bella excitedly pushed you towards the living room.

The room’s stench was even more unbearable than the one at the entrance, leaving you covering your nose for a second leaving out an ‘oof’.

The 90s trap music was heard extremely loudly through the whole house and there were people dancing and grinding. There were some couples that sat on one of the many couches, acting like they were in their own little world. It wasn’t very pleasant to watch, but you just chose to ignore it. The stench was something you couldn’t ignore though.

You were already bored out of your mind.

A few minutes of pure boredom and dry conversations passed then the music stopped playing and you could hear Bella’s voice calling for everybody’s attention. “I’m gonna open the presents now, so everybody come here and Daphne, please bring the gifts here so I can open them.”

Daphne was Bella’s personal maid. She never really talked, but she did everything she needed to. She brought all the bags to Bella one by one and you could’ve sworn she was trying not to cry out of happiness.

“Oh my god, Jackson”, She cried out as she pulled a pair of Saint Laurent shoes out of a box. “These are so beautiful. You even got the right size. Thank you so mu-“

“Bella, I’m so sorry we’re late, we had to run some errands”, a soft-spoken voice interrupted, making everybody in the room turn her way, just to see the charming model with none other than Jeon Jungkook by her side. Wow.

As soon as you turned your head to see who it was, you turned back around, looking at Jane to make sure she saw what you saw. You sent her a questioning, almost panicking look just for her to shrug.

“Yuki! It’s fine, girl. Come here, I’m opening my presents right now.”, The birthday girl exclaimed, making Yuki immediately hand her her gift.

Jungkook was just walking behind his girlfriend, making no type of noise whatsoever and you prayed he wouldn’t see you.

They sat down at an angle where you couldn’t help but look at them though and you were sure he looked at you for a split second as well. They looked beautiful together.

Bella just continued opening gifts and thanking everybody dearly, but you weren’t paying attention to that. You just zoned out for most of it. Those were a lot of gifts she got.

You couldn’t help but steal another glance at your ex-boyfriend and the girl besides him.

She looked even cuter in real life. Her cheeks had a natural blush to them and her hair was long and healthy. She was thin and her skin tone was warm and even.

You’ve always been insecure about your hyperpigmentation, but she didn’t seem to have any problems with how she looked. She was near damn perfect. Perfect wasn’t real, but if it was, it’d be her.

Jungkook probably never had a problem introducing her to his parents or his friends. You always felt like he had difficulties with that while he was dating you. He just wasn’t confrontational enough to tell you he was ashamed to have you as his girlfriend.

You seemed to be stuck in your place while everybody else was either dancing or making conversation.

Jane was sitting next to you, talking to a girl with blond box braids about a new movie that recently came out. You heard what they were saying, but it sounded like a foreign language to you since you weren’t focused.

“Yn? Are you okay?”, Jane whispered in your ear, hugging your shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know they were invited.”

You shook your head. “It’s fine, Jane. It’s not your fault, I just kind of wanna go home.”

She looked at you apologetically. “Can’t we stay for a little while? I promise it won’t take long, I’m just actually having fun here.”

You had to admit you were being selfish, not just in that moment, but whenever it came to Jungkook. You’ve dragged Jane through all of your shit and never really thought about how she must feel like.

Nodding in response to her. “I’m gonna get myself something to drink.”

You finally stood up from your place, looking around unsure, feeling like you’re taking up so much space wherever you go, even when you were doing absolutely nothing.

You wore the latex dress, but only because Jane insisted and made sure you knew you looked good. She convinced you for maybe a second, but all those insecurities were coming back. You tried sucking in your stomach the whole night, but it just wasn’t enough.

You were asking yourself all kinds of questions. If your arms looked too fat and if your cellulite was visible, if your hip-dips were as noticeable to others as they were to you. You felt like everybody was looking and they were judging really hard.

All you wanted was to fade into oblivion.

You were feeling his eyes on your back and god, you wanted to look too but you fought the urge, just continued walking to the bathroom. You weren’t in the mood to drink after all.

Your gut feeling was telling you he was following, but you ignored it.

Until you were about to close the bathroom door and you saw black timberlands stepping between the door and the doorframe to stop you from closing it.

You sighed, opening the door, resulting in him getting in the bathroom with you.

“Why are you avoiding me?”, the handsome man facing you asked, brown eyes looking deep inside of yours.

“How can I avoid you when you didn’t even try talking to me?”, you asked back, looking away immediately.

You hated how your relationship was just a cycle of him hurting you and coming back, acting like he hadn’t done anything wrong. And he was so good at it too.

He chuckled darkly, letting his eyes glide down your body for a second just to look back into your eyes. “You know exactly what I mean, yn. Don’t play dumb.”

You did know what he meant.

“And? It’s not like I have anything to say to you.”

Jungkook came closer to you, softly wrapping one arm around your waist, whispering in your ear. “You don’t?”

You couldn’t believe how shameless he was, being so close to you while his girlfriend was a few meters away, outside of this door, probably thinking he’s getting her a drink or something. You wondered if he did the same thing to you when you were dating.

“Jungkook, stop. Your girlfriend is here.”, you tried to convince yourself you didn’t want it. “How can you even do this?”

“It’s nothing we haven’t done before, princess.”, He kissed your earlobe. “You can’t possibly think it’s okay when she’s not around, but not okay when she is. It’s the same thing.”

You knew he was right, besides, you were just as guilty as he was. You were messing around with a taken guy and the worst part was, you knew he was taken and you still did it.

“I know, but I wanna end whatever this is”, you hesitated to say. “It’s unhealthy and you already have a girlfriend, why don’t you go and kiss her, why me?”

You were avoiding this conversation ever since this started. Sometimes it’s hard talking about things you don’t actually want to hear about.

“What do you mean?”, Jungkook feigned confusion, but you knew better than to believe him. “It’s easier said than done, yn. We have a history together, you know that.”

“I do, but that’s all we are. History. And we should both get over it.”, you responded.

“But what if I don’t want to?”, it was more of a statement than a question, really. “What if I told you, you’re special to me?”

You were gonna have a meltdown if he continued with this. Why was he so fucking complicated? You knew he didn’t love you so what was it?

“But I’m not. The only reason why you come back is because you think I’m easy material. It’s because you were my first everything and it’s because you know exactly how much you mean to me.”, you cry out, tears coming up to ruin your makeup again. You wished you wouldn’t cry as much as you did. “You know I’ll always let you in, no matter what. I know I’m at fault too here and I’m not blaming you, but please for god’s sake, don’t make it worse on me.”

You looked in the mirror, almost not recognizing yourself. You felt detached from reality, but not in a good way at all.

Jungkook scoffed, looking down at you. “I know I shouldn’t have tried talking to you. It’s like you can’t even appreciate anybody showing you affection. I’m trying to prove to you, that you aren’t nothing to me and that’s the response that I get. Not everybody’s against you, yn, you’re just too insecure to notice. That’s why you haven’t ever had anybody showing you interest. It’s because you lack confidence and think the world revolves around you. But I did show you interest. In the past and now. But look at you. You haven’t changed at all, still the little yn who compares herself to other girls and thrives off of male attention, because you can’t believe that somebody could love you just for you when there’s skinnier, prettier girls walking around. So what if there are skinnier, prettier girls around? That’s reality, yn.”

You didn’t know what exactly you expected him to say, but that wasn’t it. Looking at him with big, teary eyes, is that really what he thought of you? Of course, it was. Because it was the truth. The cold, hard truth. Not sugarcoated. He knew you better than you wanted him to.

Without a single word leaving your dry lips, you open the door and run out, ignoring him calling your name and the weird stares people were giving you. You needed to find Jane.

Once you found her joking around with a bunch of random people, you go up to her. You most likely looked like you came out of a horror movie.

“Yn? What the fuck happened?”, she lightly took your face in her warm hands and caressed your cheek worriedly.

“Pl- please, can we just go home?”, you whimpered, thankful that everybody was respectful enough to turn around and focus on their stuff instead of ogling at you.

“Sure, sure. Come here”, she took you in her arms and walked you out of the mansion, not caring to say goodbye to anybody.

people who wanted to get tagged in pt. 2:

@1-in-abillion @sarcasmflowsinmyveins @chieftoadturkeynickel @madygswich @kb-bangtanenthusiast

thank you for the support love yall!! 💗

a/n: so i know most of yall probably wanted a happy ending but first of all this probably isn’t the ending:) and i wanted to portray it as realistically as possible. It’s really hard to get out of a toxic relationship especially when you’re so in love with them but i’ll see what i can do to make yn happy cuz girly’s going thru it. Btw this wasn’t proofread so there’s probably so many mistakes and i thought this was very underwhelming but i hope you guys like it thank you!

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ddaengyoonmin · 3 years

Text

Pairing: Single dad / childhood best friend!Jungkook x Reader

Genre: !!ANGST!!, smut.

Word count: 7.1k

Warnings:(issa dark oneee) Mentions of abuse, abusive parent, underage drinking and drug use, Jungkook is an ass, lots of descriptions of smoke and cigarettes in an unhealthy way. Mentions of vomiting. Toxic behaviors in general; Rough play; handjob; edging; Sub!Jungkook; Dom!Reader; choking; biting; overstimulation; slight mentions of blood; just all around physical and emotional pain definitely not #goals.

a/n: definitely cried a bit writing this. This story ended up becoming super important to me and something I think I’ve been holding in for a while. A lot of this story is based on my own life and personal experiences, which is why the first part is a highschool backstory. Absolutely nothing sexual happens until they are both adults, the first part of the story was just a necessary cathartic therapy moment for me to get out :_)

(Also I tried to make this a gender neutral insert, but this is my first time doing that so kindly let me know if there's anything I can do to improve on that!)

Song inspiration: Kathleen- Catfish and the Bottlemen; Rango- Catfish and the Bottlemen; Anything-Catfish and the Bottlemen

--------

He was completely insane. It never made you like him any less though.

When you’d first heard Jungkook was back in town you had so many different emotions running through you, you thought you’d faint at the feeling.

------

When you were still in highschool, he had been your closest friend. You spent practically every day after school with Jungkook, smoking in your car, driving around through cemeteries laughing about something funny one of your teachers had said, or the security guard who’d tried to chase you down the halls for skipping 2nd hour earlier in the day. There never seemed to be a dull moment when he was around.

When you’d first met him, insane and reckless were never words that would’ve come into your mind.

He was a grade younger than you and had seemed to fly mostly under your radar through all your highschool years. It wasn’t until the second half of your Junior year that you'd even noticed he existed.

You’d shown up to the first day of track practice the way you always had, scanning over the new freshman on the team. You’d mistaken him for a freshman and greeted him as such. He nervously and shyly corrected you that he was actually a Sophomore just searching around for something new to try out.

About half way through the practice you noticed a group of your teammates had swarmed around Jungkook and he looked to be almost in tears as he cowered under their words and faces, looking up at them all.

He was a small child, not very muscular and extremely geeky looking. You found it endearing though, and found the classmates picking on him infuriating.

You stormed across the track over to where they stood demanding to know their problem, they all were also a grade younger than you and seemed to be intimidated by you. How could they not be with the star of the track team chewing them out like they were being condemned to hell.

After they left, two big saucer eyes stared up at you, tears still slightly pooled up in his lower lid, he wiped them off with the back of his hand.

“Thank you.” He sniffled. He explained that everyone in his grade always picked on him like that. He didn’t really have any friends, and everyone seemed to think of him as the weird kid.

After that day the two of you were inseparable.

You went to the city fair together on the last day of school that year, and that was the first time it happened.

You were supposed to be at a school sanctioned celebration, you’d told your mom that's where you’d be.

But here you were sitting in your car with Jungkook before going to the fair, the two of you giggling as he messily tried to roll a joint, swearing that his older brother had taught him how.

You felt yourself bleeding guilt for lying to your parents. But, how could anything that sweet Jungkook convinced you to do be bad?

Stoned out of your mind the two of you ran hand in hand around the fair, giggling and riding your favorite rides too many times. That was the first time you realized, he was truly your best friend.

That summer had you pulling a 180 on everything you’d ever thought you were capable of.

Before you knew it, you were sneaking out of your house multiple times a week to drive around with Jungkook and smoke, listening to music and feeling free.

———

It was now the middle of summer. You were sitting in your car while Jungkook was filling up gas for you.

Two girls and a man approached Jungkook and started chatting. You found that odd, but then again, Jungkook had a habit of getting into conversations with strangers everywhere you went.

You never really noticed it til then, but at some point, he had really changed from the boy you met. He was more outgoing, he was dressing better…

A tap on your window surprised you.

“Hey y/n! These guys are throwing a party at their place, let's just park your car here and go! They said just hop in!”

You felt your jaw drop a bit as you opened your mouth to protest. But he was staring back at you so excited, so hopeful that you’ll join him. You agreed, against all better judgement and that sick feeling in your stomach that you shouldn’t be getting into a car with strangers.

Jungkook whispered in your ear as the two of you walked to your car. “I told them we were 22” He chuckled. Your heart dropped a bit, more sick feelings coming on.

“Okay.” You managed to nod and agree somehow. Jungkook excitedly opened the door to their backseat, as if he did this kind of thing all the time.

You were both lucky, the strangers were not murderers, though there was no party, just them and some beer and a hookah in a messy apartment living room.

None of it felt right, it didn’t really feel like a fun time. Jungkook though seemed to think he was at the party of the century. He chugged the beer they gave him in no time and was up messing with their stereo trying to get on some “PARTY MUSIC” he screamed out.

In no time at all that firecracker of a boy was wasted and trying to dance up on their table.

It wasn’t long before the apartment owners realized their mistake, this child was completely off the rails drunk. One of them tried to bring him down from the table and he somehow managed to kick their glass hookah entirely across the room.

There was a still silence as you all looked at the shattered glass on the ground. You had your hand clasped over your mouth looking from the glass to Jungkook.

Jungkook’s eyes were wide at you, the smile that grew on his face seemed ill fitting for the moment, as the apartment owners were obviously furious.

“Run!” Jungkook screamed out in a laugh, rushing over to you and grabbing you tightly by your wrist and pulling you out the front door.

Then the two of you ran, you just kept running down the street till your lungs gave out and you collapsed on the ground on a grassy patch in front of a gas station.

Jungkook’s chest was heaving but he still managed a loud laugh, his eyes crinkling as he held his stomach, rolling over onto his side.

“Jungkook. That was insane…” You gasped out.

“That was fun.” he chuckled, seeming to be unphased by it all with a casual smile, rolling back onto his back and staring up at the sky.

And that was the moment you realized how crazy he was.

After that, things like this were common with Jungkook. You were his protector at school and his partner in mischief and crime.

The two of you ended up both quitting track together, against your parent’s scolding and the coaches yelling about losing one of their star runners.

You knew you wouldn’t be a star that year though, with all the smoking you’d been doing and you’d skipped out completely on practicing throughout the summer. It just seemed pointless. And you wanted more time with Jungkook before you had to leave…

———

You found yourself getting in increasingly more dangerous situations. He’d have you take him to parties at nearby university dorms, he refused to learn to drive, part of you felt like it was just because he liked you driving him around.

He always lied about his age, that never sat right with you.

Sometimes you found yourself gripping both hands on a beer bottle so tightly you thought your fingers might snap while he was getting talked to by every person that walked by. People loved him at first glance every time you went out together. But they didn’t know him.

They didn’t get to see his real chaos, they never learned the lies he told them, they’d never be able to understand him. Not like you thought you knew him.

You knew things weren’t good at home for Jungkook. He had an older brother he was close with named Jin, and a young sister named Jill, both very lovely, but his dad was a real piece of work. In the whole time you’d been friends with Jungkook you’d only been to his house twice, he avoided ever taking you there if he could.

You found out why when one of the times Jungkook had thought it’d be safe to bring you over for a moment, his dad got home from work early.

“What’s this shit.” His dad had grumbled at Jungkook, pointing to the light eyeliner he had around his eyes. Jungkook had recently started to wear makeup, he did a good job of making it look natural, but today he’d gone a little heavy on the eyeliner.

“Nothing.” Jungkook muttered, turning his back to his dad.

Apparently that was the wrong move, and all you could do was stand there, frozen.

Jungkook and you have never talked about that day. But it was traumatic for you both. You held him close that night as he cried in your arms, sitting in the parking lot of your favorite park to smoke in.

His eye now even more black than it had been with just the eyeliner, which was now smudged across his face due to his tears.

You vowed to never let anyone hurt him ever again. No matter what.

---------

Months later Jungkook was taking pictures of you, for your senior pictures. Talking about how you’d be gone next year but you’d still stay in touch. Graduation was hanging over you like a dark cloud. You didn’t want things to change between you and Jungkook.

As much trouble as you’d gotten in, as much as your grades had dropped this year, as much as your parents gave him judgemental looks any time he was around, you loved him so much.

---------

It was the last month of school.

He was gone.

Somehow his father had managed to get your phone number and you were hearing an entire vocabulary of cuss words.

“I know you’re hiding him from me. Where the fuck is he?’ the man growled on the other end of the phone.

You wish you knew.

But he just didn’t show up to school that day.

He didn’t text you like he always did to say that he was ready to be picked up.

No voicemail.

Not a word.

And now even his dad was calling you. The worry that you felt had you not paying attention to one word of your classes all day.

And the next day.

And the rest of the week.

Until next monday. He was just...there.

“What the fuck Jungkook!” You punched him in the shoulder. He looked like a mess, his hair hadn’t been cut or washed in a while, and he looked like he was wearing the remnants of makeup from a few days ago.

He chuckled “I decided to just hop a train out of town for a while” He shrugged “fuck it.”

“And you couldn’t tell your best friend where you went? Do you realize I thought you were dead?” You snapped at him.

He shrugged again. “It's fine. It was fun!” He smiled a giant toothy grin.

Your blood was boiling. How could he not even say sorry? How could he act like this didn’t affect you at all. It was infuriating.

You didn’t talk to him for a week.

------

You made up with Jungkook, but things never went back to normal. You were always waiting for him to just up and leave again. To just abandon you and act like nothing is even the matter…

You’d graduated and it was summer, you thought like last summer you’d be hanging out together most every day.

But, he stopped asking.

When you did hang out with him, he’d continuously mention this new group of friends he’d found in the town he ended up in on his little adventure. You’d think they were celebrities the way he gushed about them.

There was a girl of course, she was ‘the most beautiful mess he’d ever seen’. You found yourself holding back a sob at those words, because you knew exactly what he meant. Because it was the same as what you saw when you looked at him.

He was increasingly spending more time with his new friends than you, and school would be starting for you soon...maybe it was a good thing. He was still in highschool and you were becoming an adult, he needed friends in his grade.

That didn’t make it hurt less though.

Only about a month into summer, with a simple text Jungkook invited himself over, asking you to order some pizza and said he’d be staying the night.

In your new apartment you’d gotten to yourself after graduation, Jungkook now smoking with you on your couch, the two of you chuckling about the show you were watching. Nothing seemed wrong at that moment, it all seemed finally back to normal between you two.

And that was the last time you had seen Jungkook for 4 years.

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

You’d checked your phone what seemed like every minute for the first month he was gone.

Even texting his brother Jin many times and getting no reply.

You waited for him to come back with some wild and crazy story of new trouble he’d gotten himself into. You figured he had to come back, he still had school, and with Jin in college he’d never leave his little sister alone with that monster right?

But as months continued to pass, it was clear he wasn’t coming back. All of his social media platforms had been deleted or you’d been blocked.

There weren’t enough tears in your body for how hard you cried yourself to sleep each night when you realized he really was gone. You felt your body heaving against your mattress with each loud sob. Your head was beginning to throb from the tears and from the stress of knowing you really had lost him.

Not that he was ever yours.

That was something you should’ve realized sooner.

Jungkook would never belong to anyone or any place.

You chuckled at a memory of skipping class, sitting in your car in the school parking lot, his wild eyed smiling expression when he’d pass you back your cigarette completely smoked to the end.

“How!?” You’d smack his shoulder with a laugh. “It was only half smoked and I handed it to you for a hit!!! How is it gone!”

He’d wink, laugh and lean back in his seat. “Just trying to die quicker.”

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

You’d graduated from your university this year. Life had pretty much gone according to plan for you that way, you had to retake one class which really wasn’t bad considering how much you’d fallen off at the end of highschool.

You were finishing up your shift at the chain restaurant you’d been working at the past year. As you were clearing off dishes sighing over another table stiffing you on a tip, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket.

Quickly you took the dishes into the kitchen to the dishwasher and went to the bathroom to check your phone.

It was a text from a former classmate you’d hung out with a few times. You and Jungkook would smoke with him occasionally, though Jungkook seemed closer to him than you. It didn’t surprise you, Jungkook made friends so easily when they weren’t in his own grade.

Jungkook…

What was surprising was that it’d actually been a bit since you’d thought about Jungkook in a way that made your heart ache this way. It’d been years, he was nothing more than a story you’d tell to new friends. That wild child that you hung around with in highschool, the one who got you into so much trouble. People’s eyes would widen at some of the stories you’d told (If only they knew the ones you didn’t dare repeat)

“You could’ve died!” They’d say.

Or “He seems like he was just a toxic friend.”

Some even would ask you if you think maybe he could’ve been a sociopath.

You'd laugh and say it was probably true. As much as you had hung out with Jungkook, you never quite felt like that love you held for him as your friend was ever returned.

The older you got and the more you looked back on it, Jungkook never did anything but use you.

You drove him everywhere, you bought him dinners, you bought the cigarettes and weed, you defended him from his classmates( even though you’d seen him stab a man with a pen at a party once, over simply interrupting him.)

And what did Jungkook give to you?

Chaos. Trouble. Pain. Hurt…

You closed your eyes and gulped. You want him out of your head. But when you open your eyes and stare back down to the text on your phone, that wish is impossible.

‘Jungkook is back’ It read.

A chill spread across your entire body and your phone clattered to the floor. You didn’t even think about the cracked screen you’d likely caused. Your mind was stuck on one word, one name.

Jungkook.

Jungkook…

You actually felt sick, luckily you were already in the bathroom, rushing into one of the stalls you emptied your stomach, tears forming in your eyes you collapsed with your back to the cold painted cement of the bathroom wall.

He's back.

What does that even mean?

While Jungkook had been a geeky little kid in his classmates eyes for most of his life, his reputation had started to get around. When he went missing he was the talk of the town. Everyone seemed to have their own theory.

“I heard he ran off with a meth dealer.” … “No, I heard he’s in florida fighting alligators.” …. “That's bullshit he's obviously finally gotten himself in juvi!” they’d all speculated.

The worst part of hearing all of that, was that you could only speculate too.

He’s back…

A second text came in. You gulped and looked down to see a link to an instagram page kookymonster69. Of course it was that, you chuckled.

You clicked the link and it sent you over to his page. There were only three pictures posted, he really had just come back...you’d thought maybe he’d just blocked you so somehow this was a relief.

The first photo was a selfie, and WOW. He did not look like the small lanky boy that you had been friends with.

He was wearing a loose fitting tank top that showed off his massive biceps and the tattoos that covered his arms and hands. His hair was still jet black but he seemed to have learned how to perfectly style it, and his eyeliner was more on point than it's ever been.

“Fuck.” You whispered under your breath. Your heart beat fast right before it sank at the second picture.

It was him with a child that looked to be around 3 years old, the caption reading ‘My lil mini me’.

Oh…

Your mind flashed back to the girl he’d always talked about, the time he’d been spending with his new friends instead of you.

Of course.

Of course that's where he went.

But why couldn’t he tell you? Why would he think you wouldn’t want to be involved in his kids life?

You cursed again under your breath and without thinking you pressed the follow button.

“I-” You gasped. You really hadn’t meant to do that. But, maybe it's good he knows that you know he's back…

--------

Two days later you got a notification. Kookymonster69 is following you on instagram.

Within minutes a dm was popping up on your screen.

“Long time no talk huh?” it read.

You wanted to throw your phone against the wall. Though that would be the second act of unwarranted phone violence because of this little shit. So you held back. Theres only so much in your life he’s allowed to fuck up.

How could he think that was what you wanted to hear after all this time. No different than when he’d hopped a train out of town and came back like nothing was out of the ordinary.

No apology. No “You must’ve been so worried”

You started to type out a message telling him off. Asking him what the fuck was wrong with him, just dissapearing and coming back into your life like this.

You maxed out the word count on your text and re read it back over. Sighing, you deleted every word and sent a simple.

“Yeah...it really has been a while. How are you?”

Damnit. You groaned and tossed yourself onto your side on your couch.

He replied almost instantly.

“Better lately...I have a son.”

“I saw, he looks a lot like you. I always knew if you had a kid they’d look just like you lol called it” you felt a smile grow on your face, despite every bone in your body reminding you of who he was, and what he’s done...here you were letting your cheeks catch fire once again at his words.

“He does. lol he’s so much smarter than me though already.”

“I don’t doubt that ;) “

It was about ten minutes and he hadn’t replied. You knew ten minutes wasn’t a long time, nothing compared to four years. Yet somehow those ten minutes were the longest moments you’d ever experienced.

“I wanna see you again.” the words read on your phone. You felt your stomach tie itself up into a tight knot.

Bad idea. Bad idea. You should have never even replied.

Why were you digging up the past?

You quickly turned your phone over and groaned.

Letting him back in would likely only bring you more pain. Why the hell were you actually considering it.

This time it was your turn to wait a while before replying. You were weighing pro’s and con’s lists in your brain and though the con’s list kept growing, the Pro list’s first and only item seemed to top it all. ‘Its Jungkook.’

---------

So here you were. Waiting in your car outside of the address he’d texted you to pick him up at. You were parked outside of a cheap looking apartment building only about five minutes from where you lived. You wondered how long he’d been here...this close to you without you knowing.

You sucked in a deep breath when you saw him walk out the front door. He was wearing an oversized grey baggy t-shirt and tight black skinny jeans ripped at the knee where you could see the start of a tattoo peeking out. He had on silver chains and his hands were covered in rings, he looked like some kind of goth model.

You rolled the window down and called over to him.

“Not sure if you remember my car.” You spoke lightheartedly trying to offset the nervous feeling, and another feeling you were still trying to sort out.

He belly laughed and smoothly opened your passenger door and hopped in.

“How could I forget!” his dark eyes were wide and excited as always, his charming smile you’d once been so used to now making your brain practically glitch out. “I can’t believe you still have it.”

You shyly shook your head. “Broke college student” You chuckled. “So what are we doing? You said you just wanted to chill…”

Jungkook smiled and relaxed back into your seat, like he’d done a million times, so naturally. Though he didn’t look like the same small boy you once knew.

“Yeah, like old times.” He winked and pulled out a small baggie of weed.

You rolled your eyes and smiled.

“C’mon don’t tell me you quit.” He teased.

“Of course I didn’t.” You chuckled.

“Good y/n.” He smiled cutely, booping your nose with one finger, and you felt your heart stop.

Your face must’ve fallen or had some sort of expression to let him know he’d affected you, because he immediately punched your shoulder as if to snap you out of your thought.

“Give me a cigarette then and let's go.” He demanded joyfully, banging on the dash of your car and giving you an “onward” motion with his arm for you to start driving.

You drove around for about an hour, smoking cigarettes and passing a joint back and forth.

He didn’t talk much about himself or what he’d been up to and he also didn’t ask much about you either. When you’d bring up questions you got short replies that didn’t seem very satisfying.

“So are you still with your kids mom?” You asked him as he was passing you an almost fully smoked joint.

“Hell no!” he coughed out smoke with his words. “Evil.” he muttered and shook his head.

“Evil?”

“Yup.” he nodded, grabbing another cigarette from your pack without asking. Just as he always used to. What's yours was always his back then, but right now his casual way of falling back into old routines was hurting, you couldn’t stand it anymore.

You pulled into the parking lot of you and Jungkook’s favorite park you’d hangout at. You pressed the brakes suddenly and aggressively bringing the car to a half.

“Woaah.” Jungkook giggled as he let out a tiny puff of smoke.

“You left.” You felt yourself about to explode. Trying to hold it in was becoming impossible.

“You just LEFT.” You yelled the last word, startling him and making him cower back against the window.

“Y/n…” His eyes widened as he gave you his best puppy dog face, this was the first time you’d probably ever really yelled at him. He’d been scolded plenty of times, but you were always soft on your Jungkook. He didn’t deserve that though, you might not have been dating, but he’d broken your heart and you deserved an explanation.

“Why didn’t you tell me? How could you just leave me without a word?” You felt tears forming in the corners of your eyes.

It was silent in your car for a while.

Jungkook brought the last hit of his cigarette to his mouth shakily.

“No.” He shook his head, doing something that always gave you the chills. The way he could turn his cutesy eyes into stone cold daggers in an instant used to make your heart drop into your stomach. Though right now you were a bit too worked up to feel anything but anger at him.

“No?”

“Yeah. No. I don’t need to tell you shit.” He shook his head, his eyes not meeting yours.

“Right.” You huffed, sinking into your seat. “Why would you. Why would you tell your best friend what's going on in your life right?” you snapped and realized the words building inside had reached your tongue faster than your brain could tell you to stop.

“Though I guess maybe we never really were best friends? Maybe I just thought that because you hung around me so much. But you never actually gave a shit about me did you?”

Jungkook’s eyes were widening and he was cowering further away from you.

“I would’ve done anything for you Jungkook, you know that? Died for you, killed for you. Do you realize how many times I took the fall and got in trouble for things you did? And you just…let me. You always just let me get hurt for you, let me ruin myself for you. And you never cared. And then you just...left.”

Your last words came out as a choked up whisper.

Jungkook was staring at the cigarette in his hand that had gone out, twirling it between his tattoo’d fingers and pursing his lips together tightly.

“Why’d you keep hanging around me then if you hated it so much.” He grumbled, seeming genuinely hurt by your words.

You sighed. Hating that now you felt the need to comfort *him*. You shook your head. No. He doesnt get to get away with that.

“I guess I don’t know.” You muttered glaring at him.

His eyes met yours for a moment but on seeing your anger they quickly flitted away.

“You seemed helpless.” You answered after a moment. “That's why. I thought you needed me. I thought I was helping you by being there for you. I didn’t realize you were destroying me.”

At that Jungkook’s gaze was serious and direct at you.

“Destroying you?”

“Nevermind. This was just a mistake.” You murmured starting to put your car into reverse to leave. A large tattoo’d hand pressed onto yours stopping you.

“Hey.” He spoke seriously.

You stopped and looked over at him, already visibly exhausted from this conversation.

“Just…” He grabbed another cigarette from your pack and lit it, sucking in a large hit. “I missed you, trust me.” he grumbled.

“Oh wow, well at least you missed me the four years you chose to not talk to me.” You hissed out slightly getting in his face, making him flinch back.

“I’m not gonna say sorry.” He whispered, his doe eyes staring at you intensely, his eyes flicking back and forth between your eyes and what seemed to be your lips.

Of course he’s not. Of course he does know that's what you want. You had an urge to grab his face in your hands and just shake some sense into him and scream ‘Why can’t you just have some normal human emotions you complete sociopath.’

Instead your body’s next choice of action was one that neither of you were expecting.

As if your lips were magnets, yours fell onto his quickly and perfectly, snapping the two of you in place together.

You pulled back with a gasp, holding your lower lip between your thumb and index finger, feeling mortified at yourself.

Jungkook on the other hand had a smirk slowly growing on his face, his eyes mischievous, likely knowing this was his “in” back to your good side.

The fact that you knew that's probably what he was thinking should’ve been enough to have you stop right there. But the way his eyes were now scanning you up and down in admiration was too intoxicating, too addicting, you’d missed him too much.

“Do your seats still fold all the way down.” He pointed to your backseat with a chuckle.

You smacked his shoulder. “And why would that matter to you.” You teased, almost completely forgetting how angry you’d just been with him. Damnit, how did he do that.

He shrugged with a knowing laugh, his eyes crinkling up cutely, bringing his still lit cigarette to his lips.

“You wanna get even?” He glanced at the back seat again.

“Get even?”

“Yeah.” He winked “You seem like you’ve got a lot of pent up steam at me there. I'm just suggesting some sanctioned punishment-” the corners of his lips curled up mischievously at the word. ”-so maybe you’ll feel a bit less upset at me.”

Bad idea. Bad idea. Those words were playing on a loop in your brain.

Trying to remind you of every bit of hurt and pain he’d caused you, and how if you slept with him, you knew that pain would only hurt worse the next time.

Jungkook was already getting out of the car and putting the seats of your station wagon down flat into a makeshift bed.

You had your fingers clenched tightly around your steering wheel, knuckles turning white. This is Jungkook, not just a one night stand, not a new fling. This is *Jungkook*. You knew there was a higher chance than not that you’d be filled with regret after this.

But there he was now laying out in the back seat of your car, staring at you with a cute and enticing look. “y/n.” He spoke sweetly. “You can come punish me now” He winked.

You couldn’t deny to yourself how much you wanted him.

You took one more deep breath in and without taking another thought to it you rushed into the back seat with him.

He was laying on his side with his head propped up on his hand.

“Took you long enough.” he teased.

Before he could say anything else you were on top of him, pushing him onto his back and pressing him to the seat with one hand and putting another one over his mouth.

“You’re definitely going to have to shut up.” You growled.

His eyes lit up at the fire you’d shown him. He’d never seen you like this before, his sweet y/n that always looked after him, looked out for him, picked him up every time he needed it.

He knew he fucked up. But life itself was fucked up, nothing in life is fair and no one gets what they truly deserve. Jungkook especially. So why would he owe anyone an apology?

This was the best he could give to you.

He nodded, agreeing to be quiet for you.

You slowly let your hand fall from his mouth and replaced it with your lips, melting into him, you were kissing him like you’d been starved for it. Your fingers started to tangle in his hair, messing it up and tugging slightly.

Jungkook's hand reached around your waist, pulling you against him, moving down to your hips and trying to get you to grind against him.

You quickly reached down and grabbed his wrist, pinning it above his head and shaking your head slightly as you gave him a few more pecks.

“Don’t get greedy. You can’t be patient after all this time?” You scolded.

He stuck out his lower lip in a pout, taking in the sight of you straddling him, looking down at him with a mix of emotions still flowing through you.

You went back to kissing him, pinning his other hand above his head and after a bit, rewarding him by pressing your core down onto his and giving him the friction he’d wanted.

He let out a soft and needy whimper as you did.

You felt butterflies filling your stomach at his noise. It was so gentle and sweet, and to know that you were the one making Jungkook feel this way was a sense of pride you’d never felt before.

You stacked his wrists one on top of the other and held them in one hand, your other hand now slipping between where your bodies met and palming him over his jeans.

He hissed out a sharp breath and a small “fuck” fell from his lips involuntarily.

“Does that feel good baby?” You teased him pulling back from your kisses and studying his face, knowing the answer was obvious.

He bit down on his lower lip and his eyes were clenched tightly as he nodded.

Your fingers fumbled slightly but didn’t take you too long to undo his jeans and slip your hand inside, now running your hand slowly along his length over his boxers. His hips lifted slightly off of the seat, pressing up against your hand desperately wanting more.

At that you gave him a slight squeeze, causing him to yelp out. His eyes were wide staring up at you.

“I said don’t get greedy. Remember, this is supposed to be for me.” You chuckled at his disappointed face. “You’ve always been so fucking selfish and greedy.” You gently kissed his lips, before roughly taking his lower one between your teeth and biting harshly.

“Fuck.” he hissed, a small drop of blood now forming where you’d nipped at him, but he only seemed more hungry for you now.

You tugged on the hem of his pants and boxers. “Off now.” You demanded.

He wasted no time after you released his wrists, he tugged down his clothes, pulling up his shirt slightly and letting his length fall against his toned lower abs.

He was so beautiful, smiling up at you with a playful look. It was an absolute joke for you to think you were actually in charge here. You were wrapped around his finger and you always had been.

He looked absolutely mouthwatering. But you didn’t want to let it get to his head. This was supposed to be payback.

You went back to kissing him, that way you didn’t have to look at him, that way you didn’t risk saying the words that you shouldn’t...

With a free hand you took his length into your hand, letting the weight of him sit in your palm for a moment before slowly tickling your fingers up and down. He twitched under your touch and his kisses faltered as he let out a small gasp.

“y/n no more teasing.” He moaned out.

“I thought I said shut up.” Your hand was back over his mouth, but you decided to indulge him for a moment, pumping your hand up and down his length a few times. You could feel his moans vibrate against the palm of your hand still clamped down on his lips.

You let him go and slowly moved yourself down so that his cock was positioned right in front of your face. Letting your tongue lay flat against the base with pressure you licked a long stripe up his cock. When you got to the tip you flicked your tongue a few times right under his head. His hips reflexively moved up at that, begging you to take him fully in your mouth.

Instead you “tsk’d” at him a few times, loosely holding his cock in your hand and not moving.

“It's no fun just sitting there waiting is it?” You asked. “How do you think I felt waiting for you for years.” You lightly slapped the tip of his cock with your hand not holding it.

“AH!” He yelled out “Hey!” he strained his neck to be able to give you a shocked expression.

“Too far?” You cocked an eyebrow at him.

He thought for a moment, then shook his head, laying back down. “No. No it's not that I don’t like it.” He chuckled. “Just...it's you. I never thought you’d be like this in bed.”

You were suddenly moving up to face him, your hand grabbing the sides of his neck tightly. “You don’t know me anymore.” You growled. “You made sure of that by cutting me out of your life for four fucking years.” your grip on his neck tightened slightly before you released him.

He gasped in a deep breath when you pulled away, looking up at you in awe.

You moved your hand back between his legs now pumping quickly, twisting over his head when you’d get to it. You ate up every moan that you pulled from his lips, they were yours, you’d caused every single one and they were yours to keep forever.

Right before it looked like he was going to cum, you pulled your hand away, leaving his cock untouched and throbbing.

“No..” He whimpered, “Please please.” His needy whines were so cute.

“But why should you get to cum?” You teased him.

He pouted dramatically. “Y/n…” He spoke sweetly “Cuz you love me. Make me cum because you love me.” He smiled a wide and precious smile.

Fuck.

Your mouth hung open at his words. Of course he knew you loved him.

All the easier to use you.

Because that made it all the harder for you to say no to him.

Letting your forehead rest against his, you brought your hand back to his length, letting your fingers drag against his soft skin as you gripped him.

You could see a small smirk on his face, as his breathing became even more unsteady, his moans catching in his throat as he panted heavily.

“Oh my god that feels so fucking good.” He groaned out. “Fuck.” His hands were gripping the back of the front seat that his head was pressed up against, his muscles flexing as he tightened his grip unable to contain how good you were making him feel.

His abs were clenched and his hips were lifting off of the seat for you as he desperately fucked himself into your hand.

“I-I’m cumming.” He gasped out, his eyes met yours as he came, his mouth falling completely open and noises resembling your name were being muttered as his hips jerked and his cock twitched in your hand, spurting ropes of cum onto his stomach.

You didn’t stop moving your hand around him, waiting for him to get so sensitive that he had to pull your arm away, both of you laughing.

You rolled over next to him, turning your head to face his.

He was facing the top of the car, eyes closed and he had a big smile on his face, seeming very satisfied with himself.

“Even?” He finally opened his eyes, turning to you with a bright grin.

You chuckled.

It probably would be asking too much to expect Jungkook to see the flaw in his logic here. Once again, he’d gotten you to give him everything, for nothing in return, and he wanted to call that his apology.

You shook your head at him.

“No. But I do feel a little better.”

He nodded, seeming to somehow take that as a positive.

“You’re good at that.” He sat up, taking his shirt off and using it to wipe off his stomach.

“Thanks…” You muttered. Here it was, the regret setting in. The feelings of ‘what the fuck did I just do’. Even worse was the feeling of knowing now that you had, all he had to do was say the word, and you’d be right back there again.

You exited the backseat of the car quickly, rushing to grab a cigarette from your glove compartment, your fingers shaky as you brought the lighter up to the tip. Flicking it many times but not getting a flame.

“Fuck!” You yelled, chucking the lighter as far as you could, managing to make it over a fence and into the park.

Jungkook had just gotten out of the back seat in time to witness your little display. He didn’t say anything, simply grabbing another lighter from the front seat along with a cigarette for himself and walking it over to you.

You let him light your cigarette and the two of you stood for a minute in silence.

“Does this mean you’re actually back…” You whispered softly, almost not wanting to even ask, not wanting to know if it wasn’t the answer you were hoping to hear.

Maybe Jungkook knew that. Maybe that’s why he didn’t say anything at all.

He never told you he loved you, he didn’t even try and make you feel loved.

Maybe it was good that way, it might make it a bit easier when he leaves again.

Maybe it was better that way, it was kinder than being lied to.

#Jungkook smut #Jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fanfic #Jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x gender neutral reader #bts x you #jungkook reader insert #jungkook angst #bts angst #bts imagines #bts x gender neutral reader

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sweetestlamb · 3 years

Text

No Limits

Summary: Today's episode but minus the lies and with extra sexual tension but it gets resolved, somewhat.

Author's note: Today's episode called me a 🤡 too so in between writing my update for BMTL I wrote this drabble to ease my pain I love that the show keeps teasing us I really do it's delicious but I just wanted them to kiss sooooo badly today so here we go! I could keep going if people like 👀👀👀

P.s. Can an Italian tell me what exactly Vinny said to her in episode 3? Netflix says it was stupid idiot but that's stupida idiota and that doesn't sound like what he said to her in the clip. Help a writer out 🥺

She doesn't know if her father would be proud of her, or what she's been doing after turning away from Babel and reforming into a "good guy", it's borderline sanctimonious to consider herself a hero when she had spent most of the night torturing people. The ominous sound of toxic gas flooding the car still swooshes in her head, there was a moment when she'd truly considered going through with it.

Committing murder.

And he hadn't moved a single muscle to stop her, hadn't even uttered her name to pull her back in on the straight and narrow path to righteousness. In the end that had been enough to stop her, he trusted her enough to make the right decision. Every fiber of her being wanted to snuff out their lives the same way they had done to those innocent suffering families, but it was a line she couldn't return from. She should save it for a special occasion, they weren't worth tainting her soul. But there was someone else who was, Babo.

When the opportunity came, she wouldn't hesitate. Her father would have to look away because she wouldn't be stopping that time.

Before she realizes it they are outside her house, her late father's house and he's telling her good night. She'd ran out of excuses to keep sleeping at his apartment. Wanting to see him first thing when she woke up wasn't a reason she could say out loud to him, at least not sober. She was no longer scared of bumps in the night, being alone seemed more terrifying now.

"Drink with me." She whispers instead, falling back on a tried and true plan. They have become regular drinking buddies, using alcohol to cope and detach from the heinous things they see and do daily.

He looks over at her, wistful and searching before nodding solemnly. He unbuckles his belt and slides out of the car, though it is marginal she can see the hesitation in his movement and the night catches up with her. The blood is soaked into the pristine white of his collar, she recalls the hollow feeling in her chest when he didn't answer her calls and she was left with her torturous imagination. His possible death making desperate tears fall despite promising herself she wouldn't cry again.

She makes her way to the bathroom as soon as she enters the eerily quiet space, noticing the way Vincenzo peeks around the corner always on guard and she's thankful for his presence. With him, she's safe.

Pulling open her medicine cabinet she collects packets of gauze, a small bottle of antiseptic alcohol and a bandage, holding the small bundle in her arms before walking back to the living room. She finds him staring at the embarrassing photos of herself that her father had hung on the walls, she couldn't bring herself to take them down. There was so little of her father left.

"Don't let the hair fool you, I was still a heartbreaker back then. I had boys chasing after me." She lies with a smile and when he turns to look at her with those huge eyes she pauses mid step, his eyes survey her face in a distracting sweep before he smirks and walks away.

Maybe summer has come early, that would explain the sudden overwhelming heat that curls around her.

Shaking herself from her daze she calls out to him, "Hey! Come here before you bleed to death. I don't want the mafia coming after me."

The look on his face is his patent I'm going to refuse because I'm a pouty baby look and she intercepts it as she has become custom to doing, grabbing his hand and yanking him over to the kitchen table. For someone so intelligent he still hasn't learned that his refusals are futile around her.

"I'm fine. It's a shallow wound, it'll stop on its own." He argues and she wonders how many other times he has simply left a wound to fester and painfully heal on its own, was that his penance?

She shakes her head, "Why suffer when I can help you? Stop being so stubborn you're reminding me of a certain patient who you love scolding." He grows chillingly still at her words, and again a thought tingles in her mind that there's something she's missing but she presses it aside and pushes him down into the seat.

He doesn't put up a fight, going a little too easily.

"Open your shirt."

He stares at a point on the wall across the room, not responding to her command at all at first and then he looks up at her with dark eyes. She swallows deeply, raising a single brow.

When he continues to look at her without obeying her instructions she grows impatient, repeating herself, "Come on open your shirt I need to clean the wound."

Still he doesn't react and she carelessly tosses the supplies on the table, reaching out with steady fingers to unbutton his starched white shirt. He discarded the jacket earlier, so there are less layers obstructing her way. His face is unreadable as she grabs the smooth button and slips it through the hole, she gets two buttons undone before reaching the center of his chest and as if jolting back to life he suddenly grabs her hand halting her movement.

She stares at him in question, hands still on the button before he sighs at her, "I can do it myself." There's a tightness in his jaw that she can't explain and she has to stomp out the desire to run a finger across that sharp jawline.

"Okay. You do it."

Looking away she tries to give him some space but the sounds of him undressing capture her full attention and she feels her eyes shifting back captivated by the fluid motion of those dangerous hands. Knowing what they are capable of does nothing to douse the fire under her skin. Frustratedly he has a thin white shirt under the dress shirt and she can only faintly see his toned body through the material. She stares harder willing herself to develop x-ray vision, unfortunately those powers do no manifest.

"Surely I don't need to get shirtless right?" He inquires with a smug air and she glares at him, they've been playing this game for a while now. Longer than two adults should be as far as she's concerned.

In lieu of responding she picks up a fluffy cotton ball and saturates it in alcohol before dabbing at the blood on the nape of his neck, as she swipes higher he hisses at the sting and she remembers what her father would do for her when she was young and had scraped her knee. Leaning over his shoulder she puckers her lips and blows, cooling the burn.

She continues this until the cotton is soaked from the dried blood and alcohol and blowing one final time she draws back, this time she feels smugness simmering in her belly. His eyes are blown and pointedly looking away from her, she notices his tight knuckle grip on the seat of the chair as well.

"I'm all done." She announces moving away walking to the small garbage in the corner of the room. His breaths are loud in the quiet of the room, her heart echoes in tandem. Taking a deep breath she speaks without turning around, "You remember where the clothes are right? Get changed so we can drink."

She moves to the fridge to take out the platters of food they had purchased at the market earlier and the bottles of makgeolli, it was that kind of night.

He looks soft and harmless when he comes back out in a large knit sweater, without gel his hair flops across his smooth forehead and she's still not used to this sight, there's a level of domesticity that she's never had with another person. A man.

"I'll go change too." She whispers sidestepping around him, her hands brushing against his.

It's easy to get lost in their escape, slamming back gulp after gulp of the strong cloudy rice wine until her thoughts start to blur and she doesn't know what she's saying out loud and what's only privy to her brain.

When she hears herself monologuing her thoughts as she had ran into his arms in the underpass all she can do is scream internally, she can blame the alcohol but only for lowering her inhibitions really, it hadn't manifested the thoughts.

He looks stricken and oddly amused by her musings until she tells him to get up. That smile is wiped clean off his handsome face.

"I need to test it. Come on stand up." His reluctance is noted but unable to deny her once more he stands, a long suffering look on his face.

She tells him her plan, it sounds crazy even to her but for some reason he doesn't refuse or question her at all. Agreeing to all her stipulations and she's not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially not an Italian stallion.

Ten seconds.

That should be enough to hold her over tonight after he leaves her alone. If she can't lay beside him she needs a tiny piece of him.

Taking a running start she dashes across the small distance, slamming into his hard chest enjoying the juxtaposition of his solid body through the soft sweater. He smells amazing, even without his clothes that expensive cologne still lingers on his skin and she nuzzles into his shoulder. Curling her arm around his body she drags him tighter against her chest, her nipples pebbling with the close contact.

It's been longer than ten seconds and she knows she should stop.

But she really really doesn't want to.

Twisting onto his other side she prepares to let go, already regretting it but her sober thoughts are now pushing to the surface and she realizes what this looks like. Peering up at his face she expects to see that unreadable face again, he's annoyingly good at hiding his true emotions it makes her second this all the time.

Her insides churn when she sees the very face she expected. So she detaches and takes a step back prepared to dismiss this whole ordeal, the words denying her feelings for him already on her tongue when the biting sound of wood scraping against the floor fills the room. Jumping a little at the noise she glances over to the direction of the sound and sees his hands holding the chair in a punishing grip. He immediately releases the object at her glance but it's too late, she's already connected the pieces.

"You're holding back." She confidently states stepping back into the space she'd only just abandoned.

She doesn't ask why, that much is all too obvious.

I didn't want you to get hurt.

Being with him will put her in danger she's seen enough mafia movies to know that friends and love ones are always the first to be taken as leverage. So he'd decided all on his own that this, couldn't be and she was better off without him.

"Stupid idiot." She tries her best to repeat those explosive words with the same emphasis he's used when he had spat her in face not too long ago, watching with satisfaction as surprise shrouds his face as the Italian glides off her tongue. She'd been practicing for a while now, mostly curses words.

Fanculo, was still a favorite. What a fun way to say fuck.

She doesn't give him a chance to question her sudden switch in languages, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him closer, even more so than the hug they'd just shared.

"We're supposed to share everything, even passion." She boldly declares watching with fascination as he still tries to hold on to his semblance of control, the chair squeaks loudly under his hold and she lunges forward putting them both out of their misery.

It feels like coming home.

If your home was a sauna built on an active volcano.

Unlike their hug earlier this time there's no hesitation as soon as her lips touch his liquor moist ones he's already opening up and devouring her tongue. His immediate response makes her hungry for more, peeling his lips open with her teeth she sucks the remnants of the wine from his mouth, eagerly lapping and searching for more. He grunts at the rough treatment but doesn't back off, rather he sinks those capable hands into the depths of her hair caressing her scalp as he tugs at her head, tilting her to the right and moving instantly to the left slotting them even closer together.

The sound of their kissing is messy and loud, echoing in the still of the night.

She breaks apart with sloppy pop, gasping for air and his flushed red face greets her looking every bit as wrecked as she feels.

"Already regretting it?" He teases with an edge that's a bit too real and she yanks him forward, pressing him down into the chair and crawling onto his lap, legs straddling his thighs and their cores meeting through torturous layers. She's burning hot and moist where he's aching hard and rigid.

"Regretting waiting this long." She replies in a clear challenge waiting to see what he'll do.

"We shouldn't do this, partners is enough. You're already in enough danger as is, if they find out that we're..."

He trails off unable to finish the sentence but his clenched jaw speaks volumes. She chuckles coyly from her spot in his lap.

"What? What are we doing? What do you wish we were doing Mr. Vincenzo Cassano? Fucking? " She grinds down into his groin simultaneously and instantly he grips her hips, halting her movement with a bruising hold.

"You're playing with fire." He warns her, she can hear the metallic click of his ever present lighter at his words.

She should be scared of him, he was a world apart from what she was used to even when she'd been working with Babel, manipulation and bribery those things she could do without batting an eye but murder and torture? She'd had never done anything like this before, never. Not until this Italian Korean enigma had walked into her life and shaken it up like a margarita in a mixer. Was she making the right decision? She had no idea, right and wrong had become blurred a long time ago for her. All she knew was that the idea of not kissing him for another second made her want to pull her own hair out.

"I trust you not to burn me up. Too badly."

His eyes flash dangerously at her words and this time he's the one to initiate this kiss, cupping her head gently and dragging her into a sweeter embrace, a simmering heat now licking at her skin. She moans softly as he slips a wet tongue into her mouth, stroking at her back before pushing his hands up the back of her shirt, his hands are sweltering hot on her naked skin and she arches at the rough touch. They kiss languidly breaking apart only to come back together, each kiss wetter and more mind numbing than the last. With soft suckles to her bottom lip he pulls away, she stares at his soft smile as she chases after his retreating lips. Not ready to stop yet. She won't be ready for a long time.

He glowers at her and she waits impatiently for his next move, with strong arms he lowers her onto the table dishes clanging as he shoves them to the side laying her down like she's his last meal. She expels a loud breath allowing herself to be placed on the table, gasping as he stands looming over her.

"I'm the one in the mafia so why am I terrified of you?" He whispers too honestly, looking devastated as he stares at her helplessly all too ready to bolt.

"You don't want to get hurt."

He stares at her with liquid eyes emotions all but spilled across his face, with a whimper he closes the distance between them once more with her guiding hand on his back, this time they meet in the middle surrendering to the flames.

#vincenzo #vincenzo cassano #hong cha young #the tension is killing me #I wrote something without angst for them #it's a miracle

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peacefulapocalypse · 3 years

Text

I Sexually Identify as an

Attack Helicopter

by ISABEL FALL

I sexually identify as an attack helicopter.

I lied. According to US Army Technical Manual 0, The Soldier as a System, “attack helicopter” is a

gender identity, not a biological sex. My dog tags and Form 3349 say my body is an XX-karyotope

somatic female.

But, really, I didn’t lie. My body is a component in my mission, subordinate to what I truly am. If I

say I am an attack helicopter, then my body, my sex, is too. I’ll prove it to you.

When I joined the Army I consented to tactical-role gender reassignment. It was mandatory for the

MOS I’d tested into. I was nervous. I’d never been anything but a woman before.

But I decided that I was done with womanhood, over what womanhood could do for me; I wanted to

be something furiously new.

To the people who say a woman would’ve refused to do what I do, I say—

Isn’t that the point?

I fly—

Red evening over the white Mojave, and I watch the sun set through a canopy of polycarbonate and

glass: clitoral bulge of cockpit on the helicopter’s nose. Lightning probes the burned wreck of an oil

refinery and the Santa Ana feeds a smoldering wildfire and pulls pine soot out southwest across the

Big Pacific. We are alone with each other, Axis and I, flying low.

We are traveling south to strike a high school.

Rotor wash flattens rings of desert creosote. Did you know that creosote bushes clone themselves?

The ten-thousand-year elders enforce dead zones where nothing can grow except more creosote.

Beetles and mice live among them, the way our cities had pigeons and mice. I guess the analogy

breaks down because the creosote’s lasted ten thousand years. You don’t need an attack helicopter

to tell you that our cities haven’t. The Army gave me gene therapy to make my blood toxic to

mosquitoes. Soon you will have that too, to fight malaria in the Hudson floodplain and on the banks

of the Greater Lake.

Now I cross Highway 40, southbound at two hundred knots. The Apache’s engine is electric and

silent. Decibel killers sop up the rotor noise. White-bright infrared vision shows me stripes of heat,

the tire tracks left by Pear Mesa school buses. Buried housing projects smolder under the dirt,

radiators curled until sunset. This is enemy territory. You can tell because, though this desert was

once Nevada and California, there are no American flags.

“Barb,” the Apache whispers, in a voice that Axis once identified, to my alarm, as my mother’s.

“Waypoint soon.”

“Axis.” I call out to my gunner, tucked into the nose ahead of me. I can see only gray helmet and

flight suit shoulders, but I know that body wholly, the hard knots of muscle, the ridge of pelvic

girdle, the shallow navel and flat hard chest. An attack helicopter has a crew of two. My gunner is

my marriage, my pillar, the completion of my gender.

“Axis.” The repeated call sign means, I hear you.

“Ten minutes to target.”

“Ready for target,” Axis says.

But there is again that roughness, like a fold in carbon fiber. I heard it when we reviewed our

fragment orders for the strike. I hear it again now. I cannot ignore it any more than I could ignore a

battery fire; it is a fault in a person and a system I trust with my life.

But I can choose to ignore it for now.

The target bumps up over the horizon. The low mounds of Kelso-Ventura District High burn warm

gray through a parfait coating of aerogel insulation and desert soil. We have crossed a third of the

continental US to strike a school built by Americans.

Axis cues up a missile: black eyes narrowed, telltales reflected against clear laser-washed cornea.

“Call the shot, Barb.”

“Stand by. Maneuvering.” I lift us above the desert floor, buying some room for the missile to run,

watching the probability-of-kill calculation change with each motion of the aircraft.

Before the Army my name was Seo Ji Hee. Now my call sign is Barb, which isn’t short for Barbara. I

share a rank (flight warrant officer), a gender, and a urinary system with my gunner Axis: we are

harnessed and catheterized into the narrow tandem cockpit of a Boeing AH-70 Apache Mystic.

America names its helicopters for the people it destroyed.

We are here to degrade and destroy strategic targets in the United States of America’s war against

the Pear Mesa Budget Committee. If you disagree with the war, so be it: I ask your empathy, not

your sympathy. Save your pity for the poor legislators who had to find some constitutional

framework for declaring war against a credit union.

The reasons for war don’t matter much to us. We want to fight the way a woman wants to be

gracious, the way a man wants to be firm. Our need is as vamp-fierce as the strutting queen and

dryly subtle as the dapper lesbian and comfortable as the soft resilience of the demiwoman. How

often do you analyze the reasons for your own gender? You might sigh at the necessity of morning

makeup, or hide your love for your friends behind beer and bravado. Maybe you even resent the

punishment for breaking these norms.

But how often—really—do you think about the grand strategy of gender? The mess of history and

sociology, biology and game theory that gave rise to your pants and your hair and your salary? The

casus belli?

Often, you might say. All the time. It haunts me.

Then you, more than anyone, helped make me.

When I was a woman I wanted to be good at woman. I wanted to darken my eyes and strut in heels.

I wanted to laugh from my throat when I was pleased, laugh so low that women would shiver in

contentment down the block.

And at the same time I resented it all. I wanted to be sharper, stronger, a new-made thing,

exquisite and formidable. Did I want that because I was taught to hate being a woman? Or because I

hated being taught anything at all?

Now I am jointed inside. Now I am geared and shafted, I am a being of opposing torques. The noise

I make is canceled by decibel killers so I am no louder than a woman laughing through two walls.

When I was a woman I wanted to have friends who would gasp at the precision and surprise of my

gifts. Now I show friendship by tracking the motions of your head, looking at what you look at, the

way one helicopter’s sensors can be slaved to the motions of another.

When I was a woman I wanted my skin to be as smooth and dark as the sintered stone countertop

in our kitchen.

Now my skin is boron-carbide and Kevlar. Now I have a wrist callus where I press my hydration

sensor into my skin too hard and too often. Now I have bit-down nails from the claustrophobia of the

bus ride to the flight line. I paint them desert colors, compulsively.

When I was a woman I was always aware of surveillance. The threat of the eyes on me, the chance

that I would cross over some threshold of detection and become a target.

Now I do the exact same thing. But I am counting radars and lidars and pit viper thermal sensors,

waiting for a missile.

I am gas turbines. I am the way I never sit on the same side of the table as a stranger. I am most

comfortable in moonless dark, in low places between hills. I am always thirsty and always tense. I

tense my core and pace my breath even when coiled up in a briefing chair. As if my tail rotor must

cancel the spin of the main blades and the turbines must whirl and the plates flex against the pitch

links or I will go down spinning to my death.

An airplane wants in its very body to stay flying. A helicopter is propelled by its interior

near-disaster.

I speak the attack command to my gunner. “Normalize the target.”

Nothing happens.

“Axis. Comm check.”

“Barb, Axis. I hear you.” No explanation for the fault. There is nothing wrong with the weapon attack

parameters. Nothing wrong with any system at all, except the one without any telltales, my spouse,

my gunner.

“Normalize the target,” I repeat.

“Axis. Rifle one.”

The weapon falls off our wing, ignites, homes in on the hard invisible point of the laser designator.

Missiles are faster than you think, more like a bullet than a bird. If you’ve ever seen a bird.

The weapon penetrates the concrete shelter of Kelso-Ventura High School and fills the empty halls

with thermobaric aerosol. Then: ignition. The detonation hollows out the school like a hooked finger

scooping out an egg. There are not more than a few janitors in there. A few teachers working late.

They are bycatch.

What do I feel in that moment? Relief. Not sexual, not like eating or pissing, not like coming in from

the heat to the cool dry climate shelter. It’s a sense of passing . Walking down the street in the right

clothes, with the right partner, to the right job. That feeling. Have you felt it?

But there is also an itch of worry—why did Axis hesitate? How did Axis hesitate?

Kelso-Ventura High School collapses into its own basement. “Target normalized,” Axis reports,

without emotion, and my heart beats slow and worried.

I want you to understand that the way I feel about Axis is hard and impersonal and lovely. It is

exactly the way you would feel if a beautiful, silent turbine whirled beside you day and night,

protecting you, driving you on, coursing with current, fiercely bladed, devoted. God, it’s love. It’s

love I can’t explain. It’s cold and good.

“Barb,” I say, which means I understand . “Exiting north, zero three zero, cupids two.”

I adjust the collective—feel the swash plate push up against the pitch links, the links tilt the angle of

the rotors so they ease their bite on the air—and the Apache, my body, sinks toward the hot desert

floor. Warm updraft caresses the hull, sensual contrast with the Santa Ana wind. I shiver in delight.

Suddenly: warning receivers hiss in my ear, poke me in the sacral vertebrae, put a dark

thunderstorm note into my air. “Shit,” Axis hisses. “Air search radar active, bearing 192, angles

twenty, distance . . . eighty klicks. It’s a fast-mover. He must’ve heard the blast.”

A fighter. A combat jet. Pear Mesa’s mercenary defenders have an air force, and they are out on the

hunt. “A Werewolf.”

“Must be. Gown?”

“Gown up.” I cue the plasma-sheath stealth system that protects us from radar and laser hits. The

Apache glows with lines of arc-weld light, UFO light. Our rotor wash blasts the plasma into a bright

wedding train behind us. To the enemy’s sensors, that trail of plasma is as thick and soft as

insulating foam. To our eyes it’s cold aurora fire.

“Let’s get the fuck out.” I touch the cyclic and we sideslip through Mojave dust, watching the school

fall into itself. There is no reason to do this except that somehow I know Axis wants to see. Finally I

pull the nose around, aim us northeast, shedding light like a comet buzzing the desert on its way

into the sun.

“Werewolf at seventy klicks,” Axis reports. “Coming our way. Time to intercept . . . six minutes.”

The Werewolf Apostles are mercenaries, survivors from the militaries of climate-seared states. They

sell their training and their hardware to earn their refugee peoples a few degrees more distance from

the equator.

The heat of the broken world has chased them here to chase us.

Before my assignment neurosurgery, they made me sit through (I could bear to sit, back then) the

mandatory course on Applied Constructive Gender Theory. Slouched in a fungus-nibbled plastic chair

as transparencies slid across the cracked screen of a De-networked Briefing Element overhead

projector: how I learned the technology of gender.

Long before we had writing or farms or post-digital strike helicopters, we had each other. We lived

together and changed each other, and so we needed to say “this is who I am, this is what I do.”

So, in the same way that we attached sounds to meanings to make language, we began to attach

clusters of behavior to signal social roles. Those clusters were rich, and quick-changing, and so just

like language, we needed networks devoted to processing them. We needed a place in the brain to

construct and to analyze gender.

Generations of queer activists fought to make gender a self-determined choice, and to undo the

creeping determinism that said the way it is now is the way it always was and always must be.

Generations of scientists mapped the neural wiring that motivated and encoded the gender choice.

And the moment their work reached a usable stage—the moment society was ready to accept plastic

gender, and scientists were ready to manipulate it—the military found a new resource. Armed with

functional connectome mapping and neural plastics, the military can make gender tactical.

If gender has always been a construct, then why not construct new ones?

My gender networks have been reassigned to make me a better AH-70 Apache Mystic pilot. This is

better than conventional skill learning. I can show you why.

Look at a diagram of an attack helicopter’s airframe and components. Tell me how much of it you

grasp at once.

Now look at a person near you, their clothes, their hair, their makeup and expression, the way they

meet or avoid your eyes. Tell me which was richer with information about danger and capability. Tell

me which was easier to access and interpret.

The gender networks are old and well-connected. They work .

I remember being a woman. I remember it the way you remember that old, beloved hobby you left

behind. Woman felt like my prom dress, polyester satin smoothed between little hand and little hip.

Woman felt like a little tic of the lips when I was interrupted, or like teasing out the mood my

boyfriend wouldn’t explain. Like remembering his mom’s birthday for him, or giving him a list of

things to buy at the store, when he wanted to be better about groceries.

I was always aware of being small: aware that people could hurt me. I spent a lot of time thinking

about things that had happened right before something awful. I would look around me and ask

myself, are the same things happening now? Women live in cross-reference. It is harder work than

we know.

Now I think about being small as an advantage for nape-of-earth maneuvers and pop-up guided

missile attacks.

Now I yield to speed walkers in the hall like I need to avoid fouling my rotors.

Now walking beneath high-tension power lines makes me feel the way that a cis man would feel if he

strutted down the street in a miniskirt and heels.

I’m comfortable in open spaces but only if there’s terrain to break it up. I hate conversations I

haven’t started; I interrupt shamelessly so that I can make my point and leave.

People treat me like I’m dangerous, like I could hurt them if I wanted to. They want me protected

and watched over. They bring me water and ask how I’m doing.

People want me on their team. They want what I can do.

A fighter is hunting us, and I am afraid that my gunner has gender dysphoria.

Twenty thousand feet above us (still we use feet for altitude) the bathroom-tiled transceivers cupped

behind the nose cone of a Werewolf Apostle J-20S fighter broadcast fingers of radar light. Each beam

cast at a separate frequency, a fringed caress instead of a pointed prod. But we are jumpy, we are

hypervigilant—we feel that creeper touch.

I get the cold-rush skin-prickle feel of a stranger following you in the dark. Has he seen you? Is he

just going the same way? If he attacks, what will you do, could you get help, could you scream? Put

your keys between your fingers, like it will help. Glass branches of possibility grow from my skin,

waiting to be snapped off by the truth.

“Give me a warning before he’s in IRST range,” I order Axis. “We’re going north.”

“Axis.” The Werewolf’s infrared sensor will pick up the heat of us, our engine and plasma shield,

burning against the twilight desert. The same system that hides us from his radar makes us hot and

visible to his IRST.

I throttle up, running faster, and the Apache whispers alarm. “Gown overspeed.” We’re moving too

fast for the plasma stealth system, and the wind’s tearing it from our skin. We are not modest. I

want to duck behind a ridge to cover myself, but I push through the discomfort, feeling out the

tradeoff between stealth and distance. Like the morning check in the mirror, trading the confidence

of a good look against the threat of reaction.

When the women of Soviet Russia went to war against the Nazis, when they volunteered by the

thousands to serve as snipers and pilots and tank drivers and infantry and partisans, they fought

hard and they fought well. They ate frozen horse dung and hauled men twice their weight out of

burning tanks. They shot at their own mothers to kill the Nazis behind her.

But they did not lose their gender; they gave up the inhibition against killing but would not give up

flowers in their hair, polish for their shoes, a yearning for the young lieutenant, a kiss on his dead

lips.

And if that is not enough to convince you that gender grows deep enough to thrive in war: when the

war ended the Soviet women were punished. They went unmarried and unrespected. They were

excluded from the victory parades. They had violated their gender to fight for the state and the state

judged that violation worth punishment more than their heroism was worth reward.

Gender is stronger than war. It remains when all else flees.

When I was a woman I wanted to machine myself.

I loved nails cut like laser arcs and painted violent-bright in bathrooms that smelled like laboratories.

I wanted to grow thick legs with fat and muscle that made shapes under the skin like Nazca lines. I

loved my birth control, loved that I could turn my period off, loved the home beauty-feedback kits

that told you what to eat and dose to adjust your scent, your skin, your moods. I admired, wasn’t

sure if I wanted to be or wanted to fuck, the women in the build-your-own-shit videos I watched on

our local image of the old Internet. Women who made cyberattack kits and jewelry and

sterile-printed IUDs, made their own huge wedge heels and fitted bras and skin-thin chameleon

dresses. Women who talked about their implants the same way they talked about computers,

phones, tools: technologies of access, technologies of self-expression.

Something about their merciless self-possession and self-modification stirred me. The first time I

ever meant to masturbate I imagined one of those women coming into my house, picking the lock,

telling me exactly what to do, how to be like her. I told my first boyfriend about this, I showed him

pictures, and he said, girl, you bi as hell, which was true, but also wrong. Because I did not want

those dresses, those heels, those bodies in the way I wanted my boyfriend. I wanted to possess that

power. I wanted to have it and be it.

The Apache is my body now, and like most bodies it is sensual. Fabric armor that stiffens beneath

my probing fingers. Stub wings clustered with ordnance. Rotors so light and strong they do not even

droop: as artificial-looking, to an older pilot, as breast implants. And I brush at the black ring of a

sensor housing, like the tip of a nail lifting a stray lash from the white of your eye.

I don’t shave, which all the fast jet pilots do, down to the last curly scrotal hair. Nobody expects a

helicopter to be sleek. I have hairy armpits and thick black bush all the way to my ass crack. The

things that are taboo and arousing to me are the things taboo to helicopters. I like to be picked up,

moved, pressed, bent and folded, held down, made to shudder, made to abandon control.

Do these last details bother you? Does the topography of my pubic hair feel intrusive and

unnecessary? I like that. I like to intrude, inflict damage, withdraw. A year after you read this maybe

those paragraphs will be the only thing you remember: and you will know why the rules of gender

are worth recruitment.

But we cannot linger on the point of attack.

“He’s coming north. Time to intercept three minutes.”

“Shit. How long until he gets us on thermal?”

“Ninety seconds with the gown on.” Danger has swept away Axis’ hesitation.

“Shit.”

“He’s not quite on zero aspect—yeah, he’s coming up a few degrees off our heading. He’s not sure

exactly where we are. He’s hunting.”

“He’ll be sure soon enough. Can we kill him?”

“With sidewinders?” Axis pauses articulately: the target is twenty thousand feet above us, and he

has a laser that can blind our missiles. “We’d have more luck bailing out and hiking.”

“All right. I’m gonna fly us out of this.”

“Sure.”

“Just check the gun.”

“Ten times already, Barb.”

When climate and economy and pathology all went finally and totally critical along the Gulf Coast,

the federal government fled Cabo fever and VARD-2 to huddle behind New York’s flood barriers.

We left eleven hundred and six local disaster governments behind. One of them was the Pear Mesa

Budget Committee. The rest of them were doomed.

Pear Mesa was different because it had bought up and hardened its own hardware and power. So

Pear Mesa’s neural nets kept running, retrained from credit union portfolio management to the

emergency triage of hundreds of thousands of starving sick refugees.

Pear Mesa’s computers taught themselves to govern the forsaken southern seaboard. Now they

coordinate water distribution, re-express crop genomes, ration electricity for survival AC, manage all

the life support humans need to exist in our warmed-over hell.

But, like all advanced neural nets, these systems are black boxes. We have no idea how they work,

what they think. Why do Pear Mesa’s AIs order the planting of pear trees? Because pears were their

corporate icon, and the AIs associate pear trees with areas under their control. Why does no one

make the AIs stop? Because no one knows what else is tangled up with the “plant pear trees”

impulse. The AIs may have learned, through some rewarded fallacy or perverse founder effect, that

pear trees cause humans to have babies. They may believe that their only function is to build

support systems around pear trees.

When America declared war on Pear Mesa, their AIs identified a useful diagnostic criterion for hostile

territory: the posting of fifty-star American flags. Without ever knowing what a flag meant, without

any concept of nations or symbols, they ordered the destruction of the stars and stripes in Pear Mesa

territory.

That was convenient for propaganda. But the real reason for the war, sold to a hesitant Congress by

technocrats and strategic ecologists, was the ideology of scale atrocity . Pear Mesa’s AIs could not be

modified by humans, thus could not be joined with America’s own governing algorithms: thus must

be forced to yield all their control, or else remain forever separate.

And that separation was intolerable. By refusing the United States administration, our superior

resources and planning capability, Pear Mesa’s AIs condemned citizens who might otherwise be

saved to die—a genocide by neglect. Wasn’t that the unforgivable crime of fossil capitalism? The

creation of systems whose failure modes led to mass death?

Didn’t we have a moral imperative to intercede?

Pear Mesa cannot surrender, because the neural nets have a basic imperative to remain online. Pear

Mesa’s citizens cannot question the machines’ decisions. Everything the machines do is connected in

ways no human can comprehend. Disobey one order and you might as well disobey them all.

But none of this is why I kill.

I kill for the same reason men don’t wear short skirts, the same reason I used to pluck my brows,

the reason enby people are supposed to be (unfair and stupid, yes, but still) androgynous with short

hair. Are those good reasons to do something? If you say no, honestly no—can you tell me you

break these rules without fear or cost?

But killing isn’t a gender role, you might tell me. Killing isn’t a decision about how to present your

own autonomous self to the world. It is coercive and punitive. Killing is therefore not an act of

gender.

I wish that were true. Can you tell me honestly that killing is a genderless act? The method? The

motive? The victim?

When you imagine the innocent dead, who do you see?

“Barb,” Axis calls, softly. Your own voice always sounds wrong on recordings—too nasal. Axis’ voice

sounds wrong when it’s not coming straight into my skull through helmet mic.

“Barb.”

“How are we doing?”

“Exiting one hundred and fifty knots north. Still in his radar but he hasn’t locked us up.”

“How are you doing?”

I cringe in discomfort. The question is an indirect way for Axis to admit something’s wrong, and that

indirection is obscene. Like hiding a corroded tail rotor bearing from your maintenance guys.

“I’m good,” I say, with fake ease. “I’m in flow. Can’t you feel it?” I dip the nose to match a drop-off

below, provoking a whine from the terrain detector. I am teasing, striking a pose. “We’re gonna be

okay.”

“I feel it, Barb.” But Axis is tense, worried about our pursuer, and other things. Doesn’t laugh.

“How about you?”

“Nominal.”

Again the indirection, again the denial, and so I blurt it out. “Are you dysphoric?”

“What?” Axis says, calmly.

“You’ve been hesitating. Acting funny. Is your—” There is no way to ask someone if their militarized

gender conditioning is malfunctioning. “Are you good?”

“I . . . ” Hesitation. It makes me cringe again, in secondhand shame. Never hesitate. “I don’t know.”

“Do you need to go on report?”

Severe gender dysphoria can be a flight risk. If Axis hesitates over something that needs to be done

instantly, the mission could fail decisively. We could both die.

“I don’t want that,” Axis says.

“I don’t want that either,” I say, desperately. I want nothing less than that. “But, Axis, if—”

The warning receiver climbs to a steady crow call.

“He knows we’re here,” I say, to Axis’ tight inhalation. “He can’t get a lock through the gown but

he’s aware of our presence. Fuck. Blinder, blinder, he’s got his laser on us—”

The fighter’s lidar pod is trying to catch the glint of a reflection off us. “Shit,” Axis says. “We’re

gonna get shot.”

“The gown should defeat it. He’s not close enough for thermal yet.”

“He’s gonna launch anyway. He’s gonna shoot and then get a lock to steer it in.”

“I don’t know—missiles aren’t cheap these days—”

The ESM mast on the Apache’s rotor hub, mounted like a lamp on a post, contains a cluster of

electro-optical sensors that constantly scan the sky: the Distributed Aperture Sensor. When the DAS

detects the flash of a missile launch, it plays a warning tone and uses my vest to poke me in the

small of my back.

My vest pokes me in the small of my back.

“Barb. Missile launch south. Barb. Fox 3 inbound. Inbound. Inbound.”

“He fired,” Axis calls. “Barb?”

“Barb,” I acknowledge.

I fuck—

Oh, you want to know: many of you, at least. It’s all right. An attack helicopter isn’t a private way of

being. Your needs and capabilities must be maintained for the mission.

I don’t think becoming an attack helicopter changed who I wanted to fuck. I like butch assertive

people. I like talent and prestige, the status that comes of doing things well. I was never taught the

lie that I was wired for monogamy, but I was still careful with men, I was still wary, and I could

never tell him why: that I was afraid not because of him, but because of all the men who’d seemed

good like him, at first, and then turned into something else.

No one stalks an attack helicopter. No slack-eyed well-dressed drunk punches you for ignoring the

little rape he slurs at your neckline. No one even breaks your heart: with my dopamine system tied

up by the reassignment surgery, fully assigned to mission behavior, I can’t fall in love with anything

except my own purpose.

Are you aware of your body? Do you feel your spine when you stand, your hips when you walk, the

tightness and the mass in your core? When you look at yourself, whose eyes do you use? Your own?

I am always in myself. I never see myself through my partner’s eyes. I have weapons to use, of

course, ways of moving, moans and cries. But I measure those weapons by their effect, not by their

similarity to some idea of how I should be.

Flying is the loop of machinery and pilot, the sense of your motion on the controls translated into

torque and lift, the airframe’s reaction shaping your next motion until the loop closes and machine

and pilot are one. Awareness collapses to the moment. You are always doing the right thing exactly

as it needs to be done. Sex is the same: the search for everything in an instant.

Of course I fuck Axis. A few decades ago this would’ve been a crime. What a waste of perfectly

useful behavior. What a waste of that lean muscled form and those perfect killing hands that know

me millimeter-by-millimeter system-by-system so there is no mystique between us. No “secret

places” or “feminine mysteries,” only the tortuously exact technical exercise of nerves and pressure.

Oxytocin released, to flow between us, by the press of knuckles in my cunt.

When I come beneath Axis I cry out, I press my body close, I want that utter loss of control that I

feel nowhere else. Heartbeat in arched throat: nipple beneath straining tongue. And my mind is

hyper-activated, free-associating, and as Axis works in me I see the work we do together. I see puffs

of thirty-millimeter autocannon detonating on night-cold desert floor.

Violence doesn’t get me off. But getting off makes me revel in who I am: and I am violent, made for

violence, alive in the fight.

Does that surprise you? Does it bother you to mingle cold technical discipline with hot flesh and

sweat?

Let me ask you: why has the worst insult you can give a combat pilot always been weak dick?

Have you ever been exultant? Have you ever known that you are a triumph? Have you ever felt that

it was your whole life’s purpose to do something, and all that you needed to succeed was to be

entirely yourself?

To be yourself well is the wholest and best feeling that anything has ever felt.

It is what I feel when I am about to live or die.

The Werewolf’s missile arches down on us, motor burned out, falling like an arrow. He is trying a

Shoot On Prospect attack: he cannot find us exactly, so he fires a missile that will finish the search,

lock onto our heat or burn through our stealth with its onboard radar, or acquire us optically like a

staring human eye. Or at least make us react. Like the catcaller’s barked “Hey!” to evoke the flinch

or the huddle, the proof that he has power.

We are ringed in the vortex of a dilemma. If we switch off the stealth gown, the Werewolf fighter will

lock its radar onto us and guide the missile to the kill. If we keep the stealth system on, the missile’s

heat-seeker will home in on the blazing plasma.

I know what to do. Not in the way you learn how to fly a helicopter, but the way you know how to

hold your elbows when you gesture.

A helicopter is more than a hovering fan, see? The blades of the rotor tilt and swivel. When you turn

the aircraft left, the rotors deepen their bite into the air on one side of their spin, to make off-center

lift. You cannot force a helicopter or it will throw you to the earth. You must be gentle.

I caress the cyclic.

The Apache’s nose comes up smooth and fast. The Mojave horizon disappears under the chin. Axis’

gasp from the front seat passes through the microphone and into the bones of my face. The pitch

indicator climbs up toward sixty degrees, ass down, chin up. Our airspeed plummets from a hundred

and fifty knots to sixty.

We hang there for an instant like a dancer in an oversway. The missile is coming straight down at

us. We are not even running anymore.

And I lower the collective, flattening the blades of the rotor, so that they cannot cut the air at an

angle and we lose all lift.

We fall.

I toe the rudder. The tail rotor yields a little of its purpose, which is to counter the torque of the

main rotor: and that liberated torque spins the Apache clockwise, opposite the rotor’s turn, until we

are nose down sixty degrees, facing back the way we came, looking into the Mojave desert as it rises

up to take us.

I have pirouetted us in place. Plasma fire blows in wraith pennants as the stealth system tries to

keep us modest.

“Can you get it?” I ask.

“Axis.”

I raise the collective again and the rotors bite back into the air. We do not rise, but our fall slows

down. Cyclic stick answers to the barest twitch of wrist, and I remember, once, how that slim wrist

made me think of fragility, frailty, fear: I am remembering even as I pitch the helicopter back and

we climb again, nose up, tail down, scudding backward into the sky while aimed at our chasing killer.

Axis is on top now, above me in the front seat, and in front of Axis is the chin gun, pointed sixty

degrees up into heaven.

“Barb,” the helicopter whispers, like my mother in my ear. “Missile ten seconds. Music? Glare?”

No. No jamming. The Werewolf missile will home in on jamming like a wolf with a taste for pepper.

Our laser might dazzle the seeker, drive it off course—but if the missile turns then Axis cannot take

the shot.

It is not a choice. I trust Axis.

Axis steers the nose turret onto the target and I imagine strong fingers on my own chin, turning me

for a kiss, looking up into the red scorched sky—Axis chooses the weapon (30MM GUIDED PROX AP)

and aims and fires with all the idle don’t-have-to-try confidence of the first girl dribbling a soccer ball

who I ever for a moment loved—

The chin autocannon barks out ten rounds a second. It is effective out to one point five kilometers.

The missile is moving more than a hundred meters per second.

Axis has one second almost exactly, ten shots of thirty-millimeter smart grenade, to save us.

A mote of gray shadow rushes at us and intersects the line of cannon fire from the gun. It becomes

a spray of light. The Apache tings and rattles. The desert below us, behind us, stipples with tiny

plumes of dust that pick up in the wind and settle out like sift from a hand.

“Got it,” Axis says.

“I love you.”

“Axis.”

Many of you are veterans in the act of gender. You weigh the gaze and disposition of strangers in a

subway car and select where to stand, how often to look up, how to accept or reject conversation.

Like a frequency-hopping radar, you modulate your attention for the people in your context: do not

look too much, lest you seem interested, or alarming. You regulate your yawns, your appetite, your

toilet. You do it constantly and without failure.

You are aces.

What other way could be better? What other neural pathways are so available to constant

reprogramming, yet so deeply connected to judgment, behavior, reflex?

Some people say that there is no gender, that it is a postmodern construct, that in fact there are

only man and woman and a few marginal confusions. To those people I ask: if your body-fact is

enough to establish your gender, you would willingly wear bright dresses and cry at movies, wouldn’t

you? You would hold hands and compliment each other on your beauty, wouldn’t you? Because your

cock would be enough to make you a man.

Have you ever guarded anything so vigilantly as you protect yourself against the shame of

gender-wrong?

The same force that keeps you from gender-wrong is the force that keeps me from fucking up.

The missile is dead. The Werewolf Apostle is still up there.

“He’s turning off.” Axis has taken over defensive awareness while I fly. “Radar off. Laser off. He’s

letting us go.”

“Afraid of our fighters?” The mercenaries cannot replace a lost J-20S. And he probably has a

wingman, still hiding, who would die too if they stray into a trap.

“Yes,” Axis says.

“Keep the gown on.” In case he’s trying to bluff us into shutting down our stealth. “We’ll stick to the

terrain until he’s over the horizon.”

“Can you fly us out?”

The Apache is fighting me. Fragments of the destroyed missile have pitted the rotors, damaged the

hub assembly, and jammed the control surfaces. I begin to crush the shrapnel with the Apache’s

hydraulics, pounding the metal free with careful control inputs. But the necessary motions also move

the aircraft. Half a second’s error will crash us into the desert. I have to calculate how to un-jam the

shrapnel while accounting for the effects of that shrapnel on my flight authority and keeping the

aircraft stable despite my constant control inputs while moving at a hundred and thirty knots across

the desert.

“Barb,” I say. “Not a problem.”

And for an hour I fly without thought, without any feeling except the smooth stone joy of doing

something that takes everything.

The night desert is black to the naked eye, soft gray to thermal. My attention flips between my left

eye, focused on the instruments, and my right eye, looking outside. I am a black box like the Pear

Mesa AIs. Information arrives—a throb of feedback in the cyclic, a shift of Axis’ weight, a dune crest

ahead—and my hands and feet move to hold us steady. If I focused on what I was doing it would all

fall apart. So I don’t.

“Are you happy?” Axis asks.

Good to talk now. Keep my conscious mind from interfering with the gearbox of reflexes below.

“Yeah,” I say, and I blow out a breath into my mask, “yeah, I am,” a lightness in my ribs, “yeah, I

feel good.”

“Why do you think we just blew up a school?”

Why did I text my best friend the appearance and license number of all my cab drivers, just in case?

Because those were the things that had to be done.

Listen: I exist in this context. To make war is part of my gender. I get what I need from the flight

line, from the ozone tang of charging stations and the shimmer of distant bodies warping in the

tarmac heat, from the twenty minutes of anxiety after we land when I cannot convince myself that I

am home, and safe, and that I am no longer keeping us alive with the constant adjustments of my

hands and feet.

“Deplete their skilled labor supply, I guess. Attack the demographic skill curve.”

“Kind of a long-term objective. Kind of makes you think it’s not gonna be over by election season.”

“We don’t get to know why the AIs pick the targets.” Maybe destroying this school was an accident.

A quirk of some otherwise successful network, coupled to the load-bearing elements of a vast

strategy.

“Hey,” I say, after a beat of silence. “You did good back there.”

“You thought I wouldn’t.”

“Barb.” A more honest yes than “yes,” because it is my name, and it acknowledges that I am the

one with the doubt.

“I didn’t know if I would either,” Axis says, which feels exactly like I don’t know if I love you

anymore . I lose control for a moment and the Apache rattles in bad air and the tail slews until I stop

thinking and bring everything back under control in a burst of rage.

“You’re done?” I whisper, into the helmet. I have never even thought about this before. I am cold,

sweat soaked, and shivering with adrenaline comedown, drawn out like a tendon in high heels, a

just-off-the-dance-floor feeling, post-voracious, satisfied. Why would we choose anything else? Why

would we give this up? When it feels so good to do it? When I love it so much?

“I just . . . have questions.” The tactical channel processes the sound of Axis swallowing into a dull

point of sound, like dropped plastic.

“We don’t need to wonder, Axis. We’re gendered for the mission—”

“We can’t do this forever,” Axis says, startling me. I raise the collective and hop us up a hundred

feet, so I do not plow us into the desert. “We’re not going to be like this forever. The world won’t be

like this forever. I can’t think of myself as . . . always this.”

Yes, we will be this way forever. We survived this mission as we survive everywhere on this hot and

hostile earth. By bending all of what we are to the task. And if we use less than all of ourselves to

survive, we die.

“Are you going to put me on report?” Axis whispers.

On report as a flight risk? As a faulty component in a mission-critical system? “You just intercepted

an air-to-air missile with the autocannon, Axis. Would I ever get rid of you?”

“Because I’m useful,” Axis says, softly. “Because I can still do what I’m supposed to do. That’s what

you love. But if I couldn’t . . . I’m distracting you. I’ll let you fly.”

I spare one glance for the gray helmet in the cockpit below mine. Politeness is a gendered protocol.

Who speaks and who listens. Who denies need and who claims it. As a woman, I would’ve pressed

Axis. As a woman, I would’ve unpacked the unease and the disquiet.

As an attack helicopter, whose problems are communicated in brief, clear datums, I should ignore

Axis.

But who was ever only one thing?

“If you want to be someone else,” I say, “someone who doesn’t do what we do, then . . . I don’t

want to be the thing that stops you.”

“Bird’s gotta land sometime,” Axis says. “Doesn’t it?”

In the Applied Constructive Gender briefing, they told us that there have always been liminal

genders, places that people passed through on their way to somewhere else. Who are we in those

moments when we break our own rules? The straight man who sleeps with men? The woman who

can’t decide if what she feels is intense admiration, or sexual attraction? Where do we go, who do we

become?

Did you know that instability is one of the most vital traits of a combat aircraft? Civilian planes are

built stable, hard to turn, inclined to run straight ahead on an even level. But a military aircraft is

built so it wants to tumble out of control, and it is held steady only by constant automatic feedback.

The way I am holding this Apache steady now.

Something that is unstable is ready to move, eager to change, it wants to turn, to dive, to tear away

from stillness and fly .

Dynamism requires instability. Instability requires the possibility of change.

“Voice recorder’s off, right?” Axis asks.

“Always.”

“I love doing this. I love doing it with you. I just don’t know if it’s . . . if it’s right.”

“Thank you,” I say.

“Barb?”

“Thank you for thinking about whether it’s right. Someone needs to.”

Maybe what Axis feels is a necessary new queerness. One which pries the tool of gender back from

the hands of the state and the economy and the war. I like that idea. I cannot think of myself as a

failure, as something wrong, a perversion of a liberty that past generations fought to gain.

But Axis can. And maybe you can too. That skepticism is not what I need . . . but it is necessary

anyway.

I have tried to show you what I am. I have tried to do it without judgment. That I leave to you.

“Are we gonna make it?” Axis asks, quietly.

The airframe shudders in crosswind. I let the vibrations develop, settle into a rhythm, and then I

make my body play the opposite rhythm to cancel it out.

“I don’t know,” I say, which is an answer to both of Axis’ questions, both of the ways our lives are in

danger now. “Depends how well I fly, doesn’t it?”

“It’s all you, Barb,” Axis says, with absolute trust. “Take us home.”

A search radar brushes across us, scatters off the gown, turns away to look in likelier places. The

Apache’s engine growls, eating battery, turning charge into motion. The airframe shudders again,

harder, wind rising as cooling sky fights blazing ground. We are racing a hundred and fifty feet

above the Larger Mojave where we fight a war over some new kind of survival and the planet we

maimed grows that desert kilometer by kilometer. Our aircraft is wounded in its body and in its

crew. We are propelled by disaster. We are moving swiftly.

#I Sexually Identify as an Attack Helicopter by ISABEL FALL #I Sexually Identify as an Attack Helicopter #ISABEL FALL #gender identity

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missskzbiased · 3 years

Text

I Hate That I’m Afraid to Love You (11)

Genre: Romance, Friendship, Angst, Hurt /Confort , Suggestive, Fluff, College Au, Enemies to Friends to Lovers Au, REALLY Slow burn, Love Square (?)

Pairing: Hyunjin X Fem!Reader X Han X OC

WC: ~ 6,6K

[Previous] [Chap] [Next]

Masterlist

Notes: This chapter had been planned since I don’t know... Chap 2 or something LOL. I’m happy it finally came. I’m also happy to say that the next one will be hella suggestive. I hope you guys like it! I’m writing the chap 14 for now, so we’ve been kinda okay with the schedule. Let’s hope I don’t get blocked!

Warnings (general*): Language, Mentions of (Physical abuse, Death/ Loss of Loved One, Child Abandonment/Neglect, Divorce, Toxic Parents, Cancer, Mental disorder, Anxiety Attack, Alcohol, Food), Suggestiveness (?)

Updates: Tuesdays

Tagging: @aliceu @thatrandomoneinthecorner @channiewoo @bythesunnotbythemoon

////

You wiped all your things in your bag as soon as the bell rang, glancing at Hyunjin and Paris before getting up from your chair.

“Are you coming with us, Hyunjin?” You asked mindlessly, checking if you had everything inside your bag and hoisting it over your shoulder as you concluded that everything was there. You looked at him, waiting for his answer, and watching as he placed his things inside his bag, taking out your book from there.

“I won’t eat in the dining hall” He scrunched his nose, making you roll your eyes. Paris looked at you amused before looking at him and gasp, snapping her head back at you with a surprised look. You arched your brow, confused by her sudden behavior, and she darted her eyes back to him before settling them on you.

“He was the friend you met on Wednesday?!” She asked excitedly, and you frowned. What the hell was she talking about? You looked at him confused, and he sent you a knowing look, a smirk plastered on his face.

“Talking about me to your friends already, hm?” He teased, and you stared at him blankly before shaking your head slightly, rolling your eyes. Paris took the book in her hands, waving it for you to see it. You frowned, no clue about what she expected you to do.

“You said you were going to meet your friend to give it to him!” She recalled, and you widened your eyes, remembering your lies. Great, now Paris would be fixed on the idea you were meeting Hyunjin behind her back “So… Are you guys friends now or something?” She grinned, and Hyunjin raised his brow at you, questioningly.

“Yeah, yeah” You agreed, giving him a warning look that he took silently, keeping his mouth shut, “Something like that” You added, forcing a smile. Paris narrowed her eyes, suspicious, and you began to walk, so they would follow you and drop the subject.

Paris clearly couldn’t be an actress, because she didn’t follow the script in your head.

“Something, hm?” She teased, and you looked at Hyunjin for help. He shrugged, not knowing what to do since he didn’t even know what was going on, and you let your shoulders drop in defeat “Should I leave the love birds by themselves?” She grinned, and Hyunjin ─who clearly didn’t understand how to maintain a friendship with you─ grinned along.

“Should she?” He asked playfully, looking directly at you. You pushed your tongue against your cheek, annoyed. Paris’s grin morphed into a full wide smile, eyes sparkling in excitement as she clasped her hands and looked at you. She was beaming. You could risk saying that you never saw her that happy in your whole life, almost relieved.

That was how much she wanted you dating someone… Jesus.

“Hyunjin, fuck off” You asked, voice drained and a pleading expression that made him chuckle. She giggled, happy with your not so gentle interaction, and you let out an exasperated sigh “We’re not dating, Paris” You pointed out, stressing your words. She hummed ─ clearly not buying them ─ and you let out a heavy sigh, wondering what have you done wrong in your life for your friend to believe in whatever she wanted, completely ignoring you.

“Didn’t you mean fuck me?” Hyunjin goaded, smiling devilishly at you. Paris shot you a keyed up look, holding her breath as you walked, interested in your answer. You almost laughed at her eyes twinkling, like she was a child watching their favorite toy on display.

“That’s exactly what I meant, thank you” You smiled obnoxiously, letting it hang in the air for a second too long, enough to confuse him “Fuck you” You added, grimacing, and he let out a wholeheartedly laugh, surprised by your retort. You chuckled, fighting back your smile as your eyes roamed around the quad as soon as you got to the stairs.

“You almost tricked me” He confessed, humming in appreciation “You’re getting better at this”

“Almost? You totally fell for it” You accused lightly, shooting him a funny look. Paris seemed pleased at your interaction, smiling at herself as she looked around the quad, mimicking your previous action. Unlike you, though, she let out a gasp. You raised your eyes to follow hers, spotting Han and his father walking side by side.

“I thought Han would be lunching with us today” She mused, observing the other man walking along with them. They were walking fast, talking about something enthusiastically as Han nodded once in a while, a tight smile that conveyed his uncomfortableness from miles away. You frowned, concerned about him. Since Friday’s match, he had been feeling kinda down in general.

Sometimes he seemed just alright as if he didn’t have anything to worry about.

Sometimes he looked like he was drowning in regret.

Just like now.

The way his shoulders were dropped made it seem like he had to carry the weight of the entire world on them. The way his lips quirked down ─ almost imperceptibly but casting a shadow in the corner of his lips ─ made it seem like his whole face was taken by whatever dark thoughts wandered around his mind. The way his jaw clenched ─ stretching his neck just a little bit ─ made it seem like he had an invisible rope ready to strangle him. The way his eyebrows quivered almost imperceptibly made you realize how much he was trying to hide a clear ocean of emotions behind his worried eyes.

You knew something was wrong and you couldn’t believe one lost match was the reason why he seemed so down lately.

So what exactly was his problem?

You pursed your lips, patting Paris’s shoulder before looking at Hyunjin, waving him goodbye before turning to her, forcing a small smile. You made your way to the dining hall, dismissing Paris’s idea of going their way to greet them but sending some looks over your shoulder. Maybe later you should try to figure it out.

For now, though, it was lunchtime.

//////

Later arrived sooner than you expected.

You bit your hot dog, crossing your legs as you fixed yourself on the stool and leaning against the stand as you watched the P.E building, waiting for Han to come out of his practice. You heard the coach wasn’t pleased about the results, and it seemed like he was taking out his frustrations on the team, tiring them out.

You distracted yourself for a split of a second, admiring the dark sky that fell upon you. Although work in a library was fun to some extent, it was always strange to get in there with the sun burning your scalp and people wandering around, chatting up, to get out when everything was dark and quiet. The lights shooting from the roof made you trail their path, getting too invested in them to notice someone coming in your way.

“Waiting for your boyfriend?” Minho’s voice sounded as soon as someone shadowed your view. You focused your gaze on him. Despite his usual teasing, it was clear he was drained, an unusual frown giving him away. You gestured to the stool beside you for him to sit, ignoring his teasing like you often did when you didn’t find it in you the urge to whine at him. He gestured to the employee, asking whatever he called the usual before he sat down.

The silence was slightly awkward but neither of you tried to say anything at first. You glanced at him, munching your food as you pretended not to be interested in why he looked so edgy today. He tapped his fingers on the stand, eyes fixed on the building behind him; though he probably didn’t intend to show his anxiety, the subtle rocking his body made back and forth was enough for you to sigh in defeat, lowering your food.

“What is it?” You decided to ask, taking him by surprise. He looked at you astonished; impressed you even noticed something was wrong with him, blinking a few times as he deadpanned. You rolled your eyes, shoulders dropping as you scoffed “Really? You look like shit, Minho! Also, you can’t stop bouncing your leg and drumming your fingers. I mean, either you’re anxious or you really want to be a drummer” He snorted, nodding in defeat.

“It’s been tiring” He shrugged “Coach is mad at us for losing like that… I fucked everything up” He admitted “I couldn’t even think about missing a serve in a time like this… He’s been on my tail since then” He sighed, clearly overwhelmed “Also, I think Han isn’t feeling much better… “ He eyed you cautiously “Isn’t he distant lately?” You blinked, thinking deeply.

Well, to tell the truth, he kinda was.

“I think so? He has been acting weird… I don’t think it’s about the match though” You confessed, resting your hot dog on the stand before continuing “Sometimes it just seems like he’s lost inside his head, I don’t know how to explain” He nodded in agreement, looking at your food as if he craved for it, making you chuckle “You can have it, I’m okay” You pushed it his way, fighting back a chortle as he blushed, embarrassed.

“No! Sorry! I’m just…” He closed his eyes when his stomach growled, and this time you couldn’t hold back your laughter, pushing your food closer to him “Sorry, I’m starving” He admitted, picking up your hot dog and humming as soon as he had a bite “The damn coach didn’t give us any time to fucking eat!” He muttered, mouth full of food, as he tried to cup it so he wouldn’t spat at you.

“Han missed the practice? Where is he?” You asked out of nowhere, realizing that if the coach was on their tail, he should be with Minho right now. Minho gulped down his food, sighing.

“He’s at the gym… He said he needed some alone time” He took another bite, cupping his mouth again “Said he wasn’t hungry… As if” He scoffed. You frowned, looking at the building once more, attention dragged back as Minho’s food was settled in front of him “Do you want some?” He offered, pointing to his brand new hot dog.

“Actually… Can I have this? I’ll pay for yours” You reassured him, picking up your bag to search for your wallet “I’m going to push it down his throat” You grunted, putting the money right in front of Minho. He laughed, shaking his head and waving his hand dismissively.

“What a caring girlfriend” He teased, gesturing so he could order another one, pushing your money back to you before you gave him a neck-slap “I owe him one” He shrugged it off, and you wiped your money back into your bag, picking up the hot dog and quickly making your way to the gym, afraid he would just go home unexpectedly.

You struggled a little bit to find it but as soon as you spotted Han laid down on the floor, arms crossed upon his eyes and fingers buried into his hair ─ the definition of defeat himself ─ you felt all your unsettledness dissolve into pure worry. You cleared your throat, and the sudden echo in the empty gym startled him. He shot his body up, sitting on the floor and moving his hands away so he could see who was sneaking there; shoulders dropping in relief when he spotted you.

The next second, he tensed up, realizing it was you.

“What are you doing here?” He asked surprised, way more stiffly than you were used to seeing him. You approached him, handing the hot dog without a word, and he arched his brow in wonder, looking at you as if you were crazy “What is it? You suddenly had the urge to come here with a hot dog?” He scoffed, and this time you rolled your eyes.

“Just eat the damn thing” You pushed it in the air, and he took it gratefully “I heard you said you weren’t hungry… I immediately realized you needed a friend. I mean, did I ever see you satisfied in your life?” You joked, and he laughed at it for a few seconds before his laughter died slowly, giving way to an awkward silence.

“I don’t think you did” He muttered under his breath, taking a bite. You gasped, taken aback by the sudden change in the mood. Han wasn’t the one to complain about his life. If you were being honest, you couldn’t recall a time he complained about anything for real ─ well, except for Hyunjin being in your life ─, so you took the hint to sit down next to him, placing your hand on his knee.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” You offered unsure, eyeing him cautiously “I may not be able to help you but I can hear you out” You gave him a small smile which he returned, sighing right after. He took a bite of his food but didn’t seem to care about the taste, as he didn’t even hum like he used to do when he ate it.

“I don’t know where to begin with” He stated, eyes unfocused but fixed somewhere over your shoulder “I mean… I don’t know… You know?” He trailed off, which wasn’t really helpful. You furrowed your brows, tilting your head.

“Could you be more specific?” You asked amused, and he chuckled, gulping down his food.

“I lost this game… And for what, Y/N? For what?” He sighed heavily “Dad brought a friend to meet me today… He said those things happen, said he knows I’m better than that…” You perked up at that, happy he would have another chance sooner than expected “He watched my other games and said I’m promising” He concluded with another sigh.

Though his words were all good signs, he said them as if they were a death sentence.

“I don’t follow you” You admitted, confused “Isn’t it a good thing? I mean… Did he give you a chance? Will you play on a team?” You added, and he looked at your eyes deeply demotivated.

“I don’t deserve that spot” His tone was hurt, kinda breathy, and you were taken aback by how destroyed he looked. Has he ever been this tired? You couldn’t remember it “I wasn’t supposed to have that spot” He added, laughing humorlessly “What about my team? What about them, Y/N? They missed their chances because I’m a son of a bitch” His hands fisted his hair and he gazed at the floor, embarrassed to raise his eyes and look at you.

“You deserve it, Han! I watched every game for the last two years… You were incredible in each one of them. One bad day can’t just erase all of your hard work” You took your hand from his knee to rest it on his shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly “They’ll get another chance! All of you made some mistakes throughout the game… A lost match isn’t the responsibility of a single player, Han. You’re a team”

“I missed the ball” He blurted out, and you raised your brows surprised.

“Yeah, I know but it doesn’t mean you’re the one to—“ He interrupted you, voice firm and guilty.

“No, I missed the ball” He shut his eyes, and you frowned, confused.

“Yes, I know… What I mean is –“ You tried again, and this time he interrupted you with a peal of incredulous laughter but not a hint of humor in it.

“No! You don’t understand it!” He whined, voice faltering as if he was about to cry “I missed it, Y/N… I choose not to save it! I missed the damn ball!” He raised his voice, half-yelling on the silent gym; voice echoing over and over again, sinking in your brain slowly.

“You did what?” You couldn’t believe it. Why would he do something like that? You stood there, staring at him blankly, blinking a few times as you tried to make sense of what he just said. He looked at you with so much hurt in his eyes, that it was impossible not to feel the regret engulfing him right now.

“I let my team lose… I took away their chances because I’m an egoistic son of a bitch” His voice was thick, heavy even, and yet it broke into a million pieces. You felt your heart sink, not knowing what to say. He covered his eyes, bringing his knees next to his chest to rest his face there, grip tightening on his hair.

“Why?” You asked slowly, at a loss of words. He raised his head just a little bit, enough for you to get a glimpse of his teary eyes and quivering chin.

“I don’t want to be a player” He confessed bluntly.

At first, you gasped, dumbfounded.

Then everything made sense all at once.

“You want to be a musician” You blurted out, breathlessly “I can’t believe I didn’t see it before… Han, why are you here? Why aren’t you going after your dreams?” You couldn’t understand him. He was so talented! He did so much in his projects with Paris… What was he afraid of? It didn’t make any sense.

“It doesn’t matter what I want… What does matter is that I ruined what everyone else wanted” He sighed, cupping his cheek as he tilted his head to the side, looking at you with a face that had failure written all over it “And for what? Just to get into a team… It was useless” You frowned, starting to get upset at him.

“Do you think you’re some kind of god or something?” You snarled, scoffing and looking away from him before returning your gaze “Were you alone in that damn court, Han? Were you playing all by yourself?” You ranted. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, surprised by your outburst.

“No, but I could have –“ You sneered, nodding in discontent.

“And so could them!” You shouted, and he pursed his lips, afraid of speaking up. You sighed, shoulders dropping “Look… The only thing you should be feeling guilty about is to be a dumbass” You snorted, and he seemed to relax a little bit “How can you think that your dream doesn’t matter, Han? It’s all that matters… It’s your life. You just have this one to live” You looked deep into his eyes, and he averted them, flustered.

“Actually… If you believe in reincarnation and –“ You groaned, interrupting him.

“Don’t try to change the subject!” You threatened him with your eyes but he seemed to find it amusing, letting out a chuckle “Why aren’t you pursuing your dreams? Why are you here if you could make yourself a hell out of a musician?” You asked curiously, and his amusement faded away.

“You’re going to laugh at me…” He trailed off. You squeezed his shoulder once more, encouraging him to speak “Dad was a volleyball player” He began awkwardly, and you nodded reassuringly “He got injured real bad and had to retire… He got kinda depressed, you know? It was his dream. He loved to play. It happened when I was a kid… I decided to join my school team, so he could watch my matches and… Well, I wanted to make him feel happy” He shrugged.

You sighed, knowing damn well how it would end.

“When I won my first match he was so excited… It was the first time he laughed like that in a long time, so I just… Well, I wanted to allow him to live his dream through me” He sighed “And I loved to play, I really did. Somewhere along the way, it stopped being my dream and it started to be my burden, though” He looked at you, waiting for your reaction, and you looked at him sympathetically.

“So drop it” You advised, and he scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You don’t understand it! I don’t want to disappoint him… He did nothing but support me my whole life, Y/N… I’m his Champ” He sounded bitter, lips twisting down “How can I take it away from him? How can I carry the burden of letting him down?” He sighed, and you chuckled. He raised his eyes, confused, and your chuckled grew to a giggle until you couldn’t stop laughing. He looked offended, so you rushed to wave your hands eagerly.

“I’m not laughing at you!” You assured, shaking your head in amusement “It’s just… Han, I don’t think you could ever let him down, really. The man just adores you! He’d accept you as you are, Han. Whoever you are. He loves you, and he does it from the bottom of his heart” You reassured him, pushing his shoulder lightly “He even approved of your imaginary relationship with Paris and Minho” You pointed out, laughing.

“Don’t even remind me of this!” He cringed “It was embarrassing” He sighed, glancing over at you.

“No, it wasn’t” You chuckled “I think it’s awesome you have someone who loves you so much… I can’t even imagine how it works” You smiled sadly, shrugging “I mean… I think he would have your back. He asked us to say to you that he was really proud of you, even if you lost it… He was concerned you’d be embarrassed to look at him after your match, that was why he just left earlier” He gasped, and you snorted “You should have known it but you got so drunk…”

“Do you think he will take it well?” He asked unsurely, and you got up, extending your hand for him to help him out. He took it, standing right in front of you “I mean… Don’t you think it’d be better if I kept playing for him? I even have a team” You opened your arms for a hug, and he stood there staring at you.

“Han, put it inside your head” You rolled your eyes “Your father loves you so much… Do you think his dream is to see you playing? His dream is to see you happy, Han. He’d be happy if you were happy. That’s all you need to do” You stepped closer to him, hugging him. He leaned his head against your shoulder, inhaling deeply “Just chase your dreams and he’ll support you with all his heart, okay? You’ll be a great musician and He’ll go to every one of your shows with Paris’s foam glove” You chuckled.

You squeezed him, trying to convey some peace into him, feeling how he melted, hugging you back full of love. It was a warm hug and for a split of a second, you remembered Hyunjin saying Han liked you. You tried to pull away, haunted by the mere thought of taking him away from Paris but he held you tight.

You inhaled sharply.

“I never had someone to talk like this…” He muttered against your shoulder, and you hummed, patting his back “No one ever supported me like this… I’m…” He trailed off, and you got it as a hint to break away from him, smiling uncomfortably, rubbing your nape.

“I mean, you have a lot of supporters! You have me and Par—“ Before you could complete your sentence, he interrupted you, grabbing your shoulders firmly and looking deep in your eyes.

Oh boy.

“I like you” He confessed, simply like this, and you shut your eyes tightly, exhaling slowly. You couldn’t get away from this “I have liked you for a while now… I always had a crush on you, and I thought I could just let it go but I can’t” He continued, rubbing circles on your skin with his thumbs. You opened your eyes again, looking at him like you were in pain “If you can just give me a chanc—“ You placed your finger upon his lips, sighing.

“I can’t, Han… I’d do anything for you, I really like you but… Like a brother or something like this. I never thought about you as more than a friend” You admitted, pursing your lips as he gave you a hurt expression.

“Maybe we can try to go on a date? Just to see if we may click! Perhaps you can come to like m—“ You sighed again, shaking your head slowly.

“I really can’t… It wouldn’t be fair to you and it wouldn’t be fair to… Well, it’s just not fair” You shrugged, trying to keep Paris out of your speech. He pursed his lips, twisting them down and lowering his gaze, ashamed to look at you “Don’t be like this, we can still be friends and—“ This time was his time to interrupt you.

“I can’t do it right now” He admitted “How can I look at you every day knowing you don’t like me back? Knowing you’re going to be my friend out of pity?” He looked deep in your eyes, and you could see how conflicted he was right now. The tears prickled in your eyes, and you could see how his eyes were glossy as well.

“I don’t pity you… I really want to be your friend!” You assured him eagerly, voice faltering. He snorted, nodding in understanding.

“But I don’t want to be friends with you… I want to be something more” He sighed, voice faltering as well. It was a vulnerable moment, and he took a deep breath before letting go of your shoulders “It’s not that I don’t want to be friends with you anymore, okay? It’s just that I can’t do it right now… I need some time” He confessed, averting his eyes.

“You promise you won’t bail on me?” You asked, holding your pinky out in the air, expecting him to lock his with yours.

“Yeah, of course” He smiled weakly at you, locking your fingers together.

////

It was needless to say you looked like shit as soon as you got home.

The walk to the dorms was quiet and uncomfortable as Han made sure to drop you off, claiming that some rejection didn’t mean he couldn’t make sure you would get home safe. Although it was gentle and thoughtful, the silence sank in a way that made you cringe the whole way in the most awkward walk you ever had in your life.

You opened the door and something about it ─maybe it was the popcorn smell, maybe it was the soft sound of unknown voices coming from the TV ─ made you realize that you were finally home. It hit you like a truck, and all the tiredness washed over you mercilessly. The weight of your busy day impregnated every fiber of your body, and suddenly you felt too worn out to say anything. You let out a heavy sigh, closing the door behind you before dropping your keys and bag to the counter, walking to the fridge to have some water.

From morning to night, all your day was filled with worries.

Paris raised her eyes from the TV ─ pausing whatever she was watching to look at you, which gave you a moment of comfortable silence that made you hum in approval─, studying you silently for a few seconds. She seemed to be puzzled by your nonchalantly self and somehow it pushed her to talk to you, even if it was pretty obvious you didn’t want to say anything right now.

“You’re late” She stated, glancing over the clock before turning her gaze back at you “Were you with Hyunjin?” She smiled mischievously, tone knowing and teasing, and you looked at her far too done to play along “You look exhausted, the night must have been really nic—“ You shot her a look, deciding you weren’t up to this kind of bullshit right now.

“I was with Han” You interrupted, and her face fell. She averted her eyes before biting her lip, turning her gaze back at you, unsure if she should say something. You kept looking at her, waiting for some kind of reaction but she was settled in look eager to know though too afraid to ask.

As if it wasn’t enough, your head started to pound.

“He confessed to me” You decided to come clean, studying her reaction. She raised her eyebrows slightly, not as surprised as you thought she would be. If you must describe it, she looked resigned, as if she knew it would happen all along. You frowned, narrowing your eyes to her “You knew?” You sounded accusatory, and she didn’t miss the tone.

“I think you’re the only one who couldn’t see it” She admitted, “How did it go?” She couldn’t even look at your eyes, fixing her gaze on the floor. You took another gulp, roaming your eyes up and down at her. She fisted her hands, head dropped and body all stiff as if she was really afraid of your answer; her voice sounded weak enough for you to know she was fighting the urge to cry, and it made you sigh once more.

“How could I do this to you?” You gave her a small smile, which she saw because her head snapped back at you, eyes widen as she took your smile in “You love him, don’t you?”

“You knew?!” She was taken aback. It seemed like the mere thought of you knowing about her feelings didn’t even cross her head. She stood up from the couch, and for a moment you thought she would beam and hug you, maybe even thank you for letting him go. Not that you needed it. You widened your smile but she didn’t offer you one back.

Paris looked offended.

Not like her usual mock offended self, or her joking and kind self. She looked as if you just slapped her in her face. She was angry, to say the least, face red and brows furrowed, jaw clenched and you could see her swallowing dry. Her eyes held a storm inside them that you never saw before, and for a moment you wondered if you misunderstood her feelings.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She spat, and you blinked twice, surprised, head tilting back slightly as if her words had impacted you like a punch “Did you… I can’t… What the fuck were you thinking?!” She yelled, stumbling over her words. You couldn’t understand her train of thoughts, so you just stood there speechless.

What the fuck was going on?

“Answer me!” She demanded, tears prickling her eyes “God… You’re… Why are you like this?! Why can’t you… Argh!” She groaned, fisting her hair and pulling it slightly, throwing her head back. She let go of her hair, shooting you a glare “Why?! Just tell me why!” She uttered, and you decided to rest your glass on the counter, confused.

“I don’t follow you… Are you mad because I said no to him?” You asked just to be sure, and she laughed like a maniac. Out of nowhere. You glanced at your sides, startled, wondering if maybe it was all a joke and tons of cameras would take pictures of your flabbergasted self. She stopped laughing to clasp her hands, the sharp sound making you yelp.

“How did you know I liked him?” She asked, trying to organize her questions, inhaling deeply so she could control herself.

“You told me and Hyunjin when you got drunk at the party before our deadline” You answered simply, choosing to be the most straightforward as possible. She nodded, looking displeased with herself, scrunching her nose before turning her gaze back to you.

“Why did you say no to him?” She asked, voice lower, and you scoffed amusedly.

“What is it? Am I obliged to return his feelings now?” You chuckled but she didn’t seem to find it funny. She glared at you, and your laugh died inside your throat, making you gulp down. She approached you, getting right at the other side of the counter, looking dead serious to something as harmless as this.

“He loves you!” She uttered, pissed off, and you clapped your hands, starting to get annoyed at her constant yelling. Your head throbbed and your thought flickered around the fact that you were too tired for it, too eager to go to your bed and lay down. Suddenly, all of your turbulent feelings seemed to find their way out of you, turning into anger and displeasure.

“What do you want me to do?!” You fumed “I just fucking got out of your way! Why the hell you’re so fucking mad?!” You inquired, smacking the counter, startling her for a second. She recovered fast though, mimicking you the next second.

“Out of my way?!” She grunted “Do you ever think about anyone at all?! How did you think I’d feel when you refused him out of pity?!” She raised her voice, looking at you full of disgust “So I should thank your holy ass because you got out of my way?” She laughed humorlessly “Maybe I didn’t want you to get out! Maybe I wanted you in!”

What the fuck now?

“Take your head out of your butt once in your life! How do you think I felt seeing him liking you all this time?! Hm?! Did you think it was fun to watch me liking him when he liked you?!” You watched as the first tear rolled down her face “Did you think I’d be glad because you’re pitying me?!” She spat, looking away, trying to hide her tears streaming down her face.

It was enough for you to calm down a little bit.

“I don’t pity you” You said softly, and she scoffed, shaking her head in contempt.

“Yeah? But you should!” She said bitterly “Did you know I liked him for two years?! Did you know how much I wanted to confess to him?! Do you know why I didn’t?!” It was hard to understand what she was saying; her voice sounding thick as she tried to hold back her tears, choking and sobbing as she tried to yell at you, all at the same time.

“Paris, calm down” You asked, concerned, and she groaned once more, pressing her palms against her eyes before punching the counter.

“Calm down?! I stepped away because I love you, Y/N! Because I love him!” her face was twisted in pain and regret, and you wanted to reach out for her but you didn’t, afraid of her reaction “You’re my best friend! I’d do anything for you! Anything!” She cried, hiccupping as she tried to recompose herself “You know how much it took for me to let him go so you could be with him? You shouldn’t reject him because of me! I can’t have gone through all this for nothing!” She yelled, devasted.

“Why would you do that, Paris?” You were so confused right now, so lost in everything she was saying… She laughed, choking on her saliva before continuing, and you pondered about giving her your glass of water but the thought of a pissed Paris having a glass to throw at you demotivated you immediately.

“Because you’re lonely!” She howled, whimpering, and trying to recompose herself once more.

The silence was deafening.

“I… You… What?” You floundered, and she shut her eyes, sighing.

“Because you’re lonely, Y/N… Because I know you need love in your life… Because I know Han can make you happy…” She dragged each sentence out of her chest, in a serious tone, crying toning down a bit, sounding utterly worn out “If what I have to do to make sure you end up happy is to step away and give up on him… Then I’d do it gladly” She concluded, and suddenly you could relate to her pained expression, scoffing in disbelief before breaking into a fit of laughter.

You were fully aware you sounded crazy as you cackled up, smacking the counter over and over again as if she had just told you a hilarious joke. The laughter didn’t last for long, though, dying into your throat as your smacking turned harder each time until you were punching the counter, tears pouring out of your eyes uncontrollably. You shut your eyes closed, keeping hitting it nonstop until the pain you felt in your hand could cloud any other thought.

“You call this friendship?” You gestured between both of you, voice trembling and breaking “You said I don’t think about anyone but what about you, Paris?” You asked bitterly, and when she averted her eyes, rage engulfed you “What about you, Paris?!” You yelled, smacking the counter once again “So you’re saying you did it all for me?! Out of pity?! Because I need love?!” You laughed humorlessly, shooting your head back to breathe deeply “I need a therapist, Paris! That’s what I need”

You picked up your bag, glaring at her.

“And you know what?! That’s what you need too!” You dropped your bag again, fuming “Giving up on someone you love because you think I need it more than you?! Don’t blame me for being a coward!” You scoffed, rolling your eyes “Do you want to be canonized or something? Do you think it makes you more worthy of love than me?” She gasped, trying to shake her head to deny it but you snorted and raised your hand for her to stop “Are you so desperate you’d do anything to be worthy of love? Am I so unworthy that you thought nobody but he could love me?” Your voice calmed down, the anger left behind to give way to an unwavering cold tone.

“No, Y/N, that’s not what I mea—“ You picked up your bag, walking to the door “Where are you going?” She asked worried, trying to get closer to you.

“Did you think that I might not love him back? Do you think I’m so desperate for love that I wouldn’t even think about my feelings? That I’d accept anything? Did you really think about my feelings at all?” You sighed, opening the door, ignoring her question “I don’t love him, Paris… I’m sorry you had to hold back your feelings all this time. I’m sorry it was so hard on you. I’m sorry for not coming up to your expectations…”

You looked at her, deep in her eyes, and both of you held your urge to cry, looking at each other as if only hurt could dwell in your soul right now. Neither of you said anything, holding each other’s stare for a while, taking in the entire situation.

“But all that…?” You gestured at her, hand fumbling in the air “It’s all on you” You stated seriously “Don’t blame me for things you decided by yourself… I have enough of this with my father, thank you very much” You snickered “If you were really glad to give up on him, you wouldn’t beam thinking I had something with Hyunjin, would you?” She bit her lips, averting her eyes embarrassed “Maybe you should think about why you’re so riled up about this… I didn’t reject him because I pity you, Paris…”

You held up your breath before exhaling heavily, positioning yourself to get out. You hesitated for a second on the doorframe, facing the hall, back turned at her before voicing your thoughts once more,“But if you really wanna know, I think now I do” And with this being said, you closed the door, making sure to not look behind.

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rebelcap · 3 years

Text

We are not just friends —22

Chris Evans x bi!latina!character (Sofia is a people of color, she’s brown.)

Chris and Sofia meet when their best friends started dating, it all started at friends with loads of bumps on the road.

Series masterlist

Chris was sleeping when his phone began ringing on the nightstand, it was Sofia.

"Hey, Sof. Everything okay?" He asked, checking the time It was about 2 am.

"Hi, yeah—you were sleeping, were you?" She asked, feeling a tad sad about waking him up.

"Yeah, it's okay though, Don't worry about it." He said rubbing his eyes and turned around to lay on his side."What's up?"

"Oh, I just wanted to," She sighs over the phone. "Just, I'm sorry about yesterday—

"Sofi, it's okay—

"Let me, okay?" She interrupted him and went on. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have made out with that guy-" She breathed in. "It was Ryan's home, I disrespected you in front of your friends, Scott. I acted like a damn mess. I shouldn't have come up to you at the party or your house, I'm so sorry Chris." She lamented over the phone and Chris was the one taking a deep breath.

"I think we both acted like fools last night, I said things that I shouldn't have said to you. I wanted to hurt you because I was hurt. God, I'm an asshole—" He groaned. "At Ryan's, at my house, that was just me trying to get a reaction out of you. I should be calling you to apologize."

Sofia chuckle and he heard her sniffle. "It's okay, are you mad at me?"

"No, there's no way that I'll be mad at you. Even if I was, it usually never lasts long." Chris smiles and she does too. "Are you mad at me?"

"Maybe a little," She quickly answered. "But I think I'm mostly jealous,"

"Jealous of who?" Chris asked, not catching what she meant.

"You know who," She whispered and Chris swore she could picture her shrugging and pouting, which made him smile a bit.

"Sorry about that, I wasn't purposefully trying to," He explained. "As I said, I was trying to get out a reaction."

She hummed about his response. "Well, you did. I wanted to slap the hair of your head."

Chris laughed, so did her. "That was hilarious,"

"Yeah, I get really funny when I'm drunk." Sofia rolled her eyes at her and stood up from the sofa. "Anyways, it's kinda late—"

"Yeah…" Chris agreed and bit his finger, he didn't particularly want her to hang up.

"Oh, uhm… Your mom called,"

"Did she?" Chris frowned sitting up on the bed, intrigued.

"Yeap, I'm teaching her and Scott to make Argentinian empanadas. On Friday…"

"That's nice, am I invited?," He smiled and Sofia laughed.

"It's your house, dude."

"Come on," He laughed again. "You want me there?"

Sofia kept quiet for a little while. "Of course I want you there."

—

"So, what happened?" Amanda asked as Sofia groaned beside her, they were walking around the block of Mandy's suburban house.

"I got drunk, we made out—God," Sofia said, feeling embarrassed. "we made each other jealous and then laughed about it last night on the phone."

"You had sex?"

"No, but we slept together and I was a bitch when I woke up."

"As usual, you never were a morning person." Amanda smiled as Sofia grabbed her arm and wrapped it around hers. "You can't keep going like this with him, Sof. You know that, don't you?"

"I know," She scratched her head and sighed deeply. "We stretched it too long, but I love him and I told him that."

"Do you?"

"Yeah, and I took it back—kinda,"

"You're such a bitch," Amanda pinches her on her arm, and Sofia squeaks.

"I never told anyone that I love them,"

"Not even Tiffany?"

"I thought that I loved her, but I know now that I never did. It was all manipulation and downright toxic shit around her narcissistic ass. God, if I was fucked up before Tiffany. She ruined relationships for me,"

"I know,"

"That's why I can't trust Chris because every time we broke up he's off with one of his exes. Tiffany did the same but with random girls not to the same extent as her." Sofia explained. "He goes off to LA, forget all about me here and suddenly when he's in Boston I'm all we ever wanted. I don't know, I—"

"Chris it's nothing like Tiffany, Sofia. Come on," Amanda told her. "And you guys broke up two times, one you broke up with him through text and you kept talking for a bit. You two got back together and he left you—

"He went back to Jenny both times, I didn't even have sex with anyone besides him since we started this."

"You were on a break."

"It doesn't matter and you sound like Ross Geller and he's the worst," Sofia said. "And he said he loves me, you don't go back with your ex if you love someone else." She almost whispered and looked at her friend. "Aren't you supposed to be on my side?"

"I'm always on your side, that's why I'm telling you this. Chris isn't perfect, he made mistakes but he never mistreated you, he never lied either."

"I know that I know…" Sofia nodded a few times as she watched the sun on the clear sky, closing her eyes. "Why is it so complicated?"

—

"How come you don't know how to drive?" Scott asked Sofia and she laughed. They were at his mother's kitchen, chopping some vegetables and chatting, waiting for Lisa to come back from the supermarket.

"Never owned a car before, I didn't see the point of learning and Uber exists now," She laughed and shrugged. "Besides your brother was my personal chauffeur every time he's in town." Sofia sasses him and Scott let out the loudest laugh because it was true.

"And yet, he says that hates driving around,"

"Oh yes, but he loved speeding and scaring the shit out of me," She laughed now and sighed. "And he just laughs grabbing his left titty… Or mine." Scott was screaming when Lisa and Chris walked in carrying a lot of bags.

"What are you two laughing about?" Lisa asked, smiling as Scott and Sofia shared a look and laughed again.

"What did you tell him?," Chris smiled and pointed a finger at Sofia, making them laugh again "Or what did you tell her?" He asked pointing the same finger but now at Scott.

"Nothing Mom, Apparently your son doesn't hate driving around that much," Scott shrugged and Sofia laughed.

"I hate driving around, what are you talking about?" Chris smiled, already knowing where that was coming from.

"Yeah, not for her," Scott said and Chris laughed as he unpacked the grocery from the bags and put it on the counter.

"Of course no, I love her and she used to let me touch her boob—" Chris explained and Sofia choked and Scott let out a screen mixed with laughter.

"Christofer!," Lisa laughed as she threw a whole package of toilet paper at him and they all laughed.

"Ma!" He shouted and laughed.

Sofía couldn't help but think that she loves this, moments like this. She loves them, she loves them all.

—

"Isn't this your wildest fantasy?," Scott asked his brother, as they sneakily watched their mother and Sofia cooking, laughing and day drinking wine.

"Shut up," Chris nudged him off, he was trying to hear what they were talking about. "This is wrong, isn't it?"

"Ah, yes," Scott quickly said and shook his head. "Are you trying to win her back?"

"Yes, I love her. I just wanna be with her,"

"Then go, be with her—be her friend again, Sofia is half way there men. She loves you, she really does."

"You talked to her?" Chris asked.

"I'm telling you nothing, that's between us." Scott said and Chris gave him a stern look.

"Yeah, but she's my girl—what she said?, does she love me back?, does she want me back?," Chris quickly tried to pry information out of his younger brother. Scott as a true friend, kept his mouth shut.

"I won't tell you shit."

"If you don't tell me, when we have another joint interview imma tell you crap yourself in the car." Chris muttered and Scott gasped.

"You wouldn't!,"

"Oh, brother. You wait," Chris said, shaking his head. Fast forward, he did talk about it on national television.

"What are you two whispering about, we can hear your cackling from here!" Lisa shouted as she nudged Sofia, making her laugh.

The brothers walked through the kitchen door, Scott umbothered and Chris was pretending to be unbothered, he might be an actor but his mother saw right through him, he was anxious.

Sofía smiled at him and he returned the smile back, hands on his pockets, looking adorable.

"Can we help?," Chris asked, walking up to her side. Sofia was putting some empanadas on a tray and placing them on the oven.

"We are mostly done," She answered looking around, the kitchen was a mess. "You guys could help clean."

"Ah,yes. I have this thing—ma, I need to talk to you." Scott said pointing out away from the kitchen and Lisa quickly followed.

"I'll be right back, honey" Lisa said to Sofia wiping her hands on a towel. "You help her," She said to Chris.

"Of course." Chris said, quickly putting himself to gather all the dirty things and place them on the sink. "You okay?" He asked, she seemed quiet as she started to do the dishes.

"Yeah, yeah—it's just," She said and looked at him, Chris was concerned because of the last time that they were together in this very same house. They broke up. "I talk with Lisa about what happen last time I was here,"

"Yeah, I told her something about that." Chris said, thinking that he fucked up on telling his mother for a second.

"I know, it's alright." She said and looked down. "She got it, what I feel at that time." Sofia went quiet for a moment and looked at Chris. "I wish I had talked to her that time, you know? Maybe we wouldn't be in this position right now."

"You think That?," He asked, wiping his hands. Eyes focused on her, Sofia nodded a few times as she rinsed a few plates.

"I don't know, maybe—if we ever talked about all the shit we have to talk about." She laughed and Chris snorted.

"So let's talk about it,"

"Right here?," She asked sarcastically. "in your mother's kitchen. Sure,"

"It doesn't have to be here, but I wanna have that talk. I want to sort things out between us," Chris said looking at her, honestly in his voice and Sofia didn't know what to do.

"Chris… I, I don't know. It's been months, there is so much crap between us." Sofia said playing with the towel and looking down.

"I don't want you out of my life, Sofia." Chris said and she looked at him. "I would hate that, I'll regret it all my life."

"I don't want that, I would hate it too." She whispered and turned around to rest her back on the counter and let out a sigh. "I miss you. Not gonna lie about that."

"I miss you too, all the time." He whispered and got close enough to cup her face as she leaned in his touch, closing her eyes. Chris took a deep breath and Sofia wrapped her arms around her torso, holding him tight, burning her face in his chest.

Chris kissed the top of her head and hummed, only for her to hear. "I love you."

"I know," She whispered and looked up, pouting with her eyes glossy.

"sweetheart," Chris said, kissing her face as she smiled at the touch, a sweet moment interrupted by a timer ringing to take out the food of the oven.

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x poc!reader #chris evans x latina!#chris evans imagine #chris evans x you #chris evans x ofc

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rinkunokoisuru · 4 years

Text

I don’t normally write fan fics, not to mention actually share them, so I’m super nervous, but whatever, here we go This is based on the comic by @horrendoushag because I saw @lexosaurus‘s tags. Also some inspiration from some other fics seeing as I’ve read a lot of them.

Danny paused his game of Doomed and slid his over-sized set of headphones to his neck with a sigh at the knock on the door. He wasn't expecting Sam or Tucker to come over, and he knew that Jazz was at the library working on her thesis, so that really only left one or both of his parents as the one responsible. He swung his chair slightly towards the door as the knocking continued. "Yeah?" Danny called, voice raised. "Danny, can we come in? We need to talk with you." As suspected, it was his parents. Yes he'd forgotten to clean the lab again, and yes he'd only barely passed most of his classes, but this wasn't anything new for him. Besides, classes had only just ended for the semester, so it was unlikely that that was what they wanted to talk about since report cards hadn't even been sent home yet. Mentally preparing himself, he decided that he'd just have to let them come in and talk his way out of whatever it was they had to say or just accept the in-coming grounding. "Uh. Yeah, I guess." His mother opened the door and stepped to the side to allow his father space to enter the room.

"So what did you want to talk about?" Danny asked nervously. Maddie's lips were pulled tight and if the hood of her hazmat suit had been pulled back, Danny was sure the fire in her eyes would have been enough to make him shrink even further into his seat. Glancing towards his dad's more expressive face in hopes that he had just misinterpreted, Danny could see that he was just upset as his mother, though with a hint of confusion mixed in as well. "Would you care to explain this, young man?" She held up her phone for Danny to see the screen. From where he was sitting, he couldn't really see what the fuss was about. "It's, uh, twitter?" he shrugged before crossing his arms. "Danny-boy," his father stated sternly. "Alright, alright. Let me see," he grabbed for the phone. As he browsed through what his mother had passed to him, Danny felt his stomach flop in a mix of fear and embarrassment. "Well, Danny?" she tapped her foot impatiently. "What's all this about you dating that menace, Phantom?" Danny winced and sunk further into his chair. He never expected his parents would go on twitter in the first place, let alone find his profile. Phantom had had his own twitter profile for only a week before he'd been assaulted by people claiming ghosts weren't real, that they were his biggest fans, that he was scum that needed to be eradicated, people asking if he would date them, and other uncomfortable comments. Danny had learned to either ignore them or play along and quickly became known for his shitposts. The fact that he was dating himself had started as just a joke with Sam and Tucker to try to aggravate Wes, it had been inconceivable at the time that his parents would ever find those tweets. Yet here they were. "I can explain?" He could not explain. "Well let's hear it then, Danny," his mom replied, raising an eyebrow. The impatient foot tapping continued as he stared at the bedroom floor. He brought his hand up to rub at his neck, a nervous habit of his, as he wracked his brain for an excuse. The uncomfortable silence dragged on for what felt like hours to Danny, though was only about a minute before his dad broke it. "Danny," Jack soothed, placing his sizable hand on his son's significantly smaller shoulder, "we understand that you're getting older and starting to make a lot of your own decisions, but your mother and I are worried about you. It just isn't safe to spend so much time around such a dangerous ghost." "Phantom isn't dangerous." "I know Phantom is very popular with kids your age, but he is dangerous. He pretends to protect the town, but who knows what he could do if he decided to stop faking it," Maddie added. Danny jerked away from his father's hold and jumped out of his chair, only barely able to stop his eyes from glowing an unnatural ectoplasmic green. "No! Jazz and I keep telling you! Phantom doesn't pose a threat to humans." Jack narrowed his eyes with skepticism, and Danny was sure his mother was doing the same beneath her goggles. Letting out an exasperated huff, Danny continued, "You guys are too caught up in your 'research' to even consider that a ghost could be good. When was the last time you even talked with a ghost?" "Danny..." his mother started. Both of his parents had heard this same argument from Jazz plenty of times by now. "No, listen. You never listen. Phantom isn't going to hurt me!" "You can't know that." "Yes! I can!" "And how is that!" Maddie's lips impossibly pressed even thinner, her whole stance becoming more aggressive. "Because I'm Phantom!" His parents seemed to deflate at this outburst. As soon as he realized what he'd said, his hands flew to his mouth and he allowed the cold rush of invisibility to run over him. ---- It had been two weeks now since Danny had accidentally revealed to his parents that he and Phantom were one and the same. While the experience had been less than pleasant at the time, in hindsight it had been a pretty stupid way for his secret alter ego to come out. Jazz had come home not long after the confrontation. When she found out what had happened, she had some words of her own and stormed out to find Danny. As soon he returned safely, the whole family sat down to have a civil discussion about the news that Danny had been half ghost for almost two full years before they found out. To Danny's relief, his parent's had instantly accepted him, though that didn't stop them from feeling like they were at fault for what happened to him. Most of those two weeks since the outburst had been spent assuring his parents he was okay and that he didn't blame them. In fact he liked being part ghost. All things considered, things went much better than he thought they ever would have. Though that didn't stop things from being a little awkward when it came to Danny using his powers. ---- Danny and his friends slid into their usual booth at the Nasty Burger, Sam making sure to sit as far from the trays with meat as she could lest her stomach turn at the smell. Tucker lifted his Nasty burger and took a large whiff before shoving it into his mouth. "Sho how are your parentsh adjushting to you being Phantom?" "Please swallow your food before talking, Tucker," Sam rolled her eyes. Danny picked up one of his french fries and mindlessly dipped it into his ketchup. "I think they're doing alright. I'm still kind of hesitant to transform in front of them though." "I understand that. You basically lied to them for the past two years. It's going to take time for them to be completely comfortable with your ghost half," Sam said, picking at her slightly wilted salad. "Ugh, you sound like Jazz," Danny groaned, tossing his uneaten fry back onto the tray. "I know it's going to take time for them to get used to it." "They did say they want to support you, dude," Tucker gulped down the rest of the greasy burger. "Maybe you just need to expose them to a little more of your ghostly side," he wiggled his fingers for emphasis before pilfering some of Danny's fries, "Just use your powers around the house more often, man. Think of all the things you can do without worrying about getting caught now!" Danny glared briefly at the fry thief before turning back to his food with a sigh. "Maybe you have a point, Tuck." "Of course I do." "Maybe talk to Jazz about this plan first, just in case." "Better point," Danny replied before smacking Tucker's wandering hand away from his food once again. "Ouch! You weren't even eating those!" "They're still my fries." For the rest of their lunch, the group of teens mostly chatted about what movies they were looking forward to, which ghosts had been most annoying lately, and what other plans they had for their summer vacation. Eventually though, the trio had to go their separate ways. Sam's mother had plans to drag her daughter to some sort of benefit for the umpteenth time and Tucker had promised a group of his online friends that he'd help them out in some new game they were playing, so Danny waved goodbye and headed home by himself. It wasn't long before he'd arrived at his own doorstep and made his way upstairs. Danny considered dropping into bed and taking a nap before some ghost inevitably dropped in, but found himself wandering over to Jazz's room instead. Seeing the door was ajar, he quietly rapped on the door frame until his sister looked up from whatever she was working on. "What's up, Danny?" Jazz asked, a small smile on her face as she scooted her chair away from her desk so she could look at her brother while they spoke. He shuffled into the room and leaned against the wall. It took hardly any time for Danny to explain what he had discussed with Sam and Tucker, leaving Jazz looking pensive. "It actually seems like a pretty good idea to me," she finally said. "I think it might be good for all three of you. Especially since Mom and Dad aren't trying to shoot you anymore," she smirked. Danny let go of the tension he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Thanks, Jazz." "No problem, little brother," she smiled gently. Danny sent back a small smile of his own and left the room, allowing Jazz to return to her work. --- "Danny?" "Yeah, Mom?" he called from the living room. "Can you help me with dinner, sweetie?" Rather than gather the energy to stand from his relaxed position on the couch, Danny tucked his phone into his pocket and allowed the cold feeling at his core to overtake him. There was a bright flash of light and suddenly where there had sat the blue-eyed, black-haired Fenton, was instead the blindingly bright white hair and toxic green eyes of his Phantom form. Now was as good a time as any to start using his powers around his parents more often. He let the weightlessness that came more naturally in his ghost form take over and lazily floated into the kitchen. "What did you need help with?" his voice echoed ominously. His mother jolted in surprise before once again composing herself. "I was just hoping you could reheat the leftover mashed potatoes to go with dinner," she started hesitantly. "I'm not interrupting a fight with a ghost, am I?" "Hm? Nah," he replied. "A-alright then." Danny hovered on over to the refrigerator and stuck the entire front half of his body inside. He soon emerged with the cold bowl of potatoes and popped them into the microwave. At least they were less likely to come to life since they'd only been in there a day or so. Maddie watched her son flit about the kitchen like this was the most normal thing in the world. She absent-mindedly cleaned up the mess from preparing the night's meatloaf and supposed that for Danny, it probably was the norm. If he'd been half-ghost for nearly two years, then it would be sillier to expect him not to use his powers from time to time. "So how long until the meatloaf is done?" Danny questioned. The microwave was still running, but rather than continue to float in various places around the room, he had instead elected to change back into his human form and play around on his phone. "Just a few more minutes." "Awesome." They settled into a comfortable silence, Danny tapping away at a game on his phone and Maddie putting the finishing touches on the sides for their dinner. The quiet was only interrupted when the shrieking of the microwave alerted them that the potatoes were hopefully done reheating. "Danny, go get your father for dinner," Maddie said as she went to take the meatloaf out of the oven. "Okay," Danny replied without even looking up from his phone. In an instant, Danny Fenton had once again been replaced by Danny Phantom. Maddie stared in wide-eyed confusion as her son bent down onto the kitchen floor and stuck his head into the basement below. Jack happened to be looking up at the clock when he saw a shock of glowing, white hair sink through the ceiling. He felt his jaw drop as his the rest of Danny's head followed. There was a moment where they stared at each other, neither saying anything. "Dinner's ready," Danny finally relayed. Jack managed to shake himself out of his stupor. "Great! Thanks, Danny-boy!" The ghostly head of his son retreated back through the ceiling. It was going to be a while before Jack and Maddie could be completely comfortable around their son in ghost form, but at least Danny got to be a little shit in the process.

#danny phantom #fan fiction #fan fic #danny fenton #jack fenton #maddie fenton #jazz fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #uh...#idk #how do tag fics?#identity reveal #this is stupid #sharing my writing is scary lol

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jungcity · 4 years

Text

bane of the devil. | x

genre: romance, fantasy, erotica

pairings: vampire!jaehyun x college!female reader

words: 12k

warning: bane of the devil deals with themes of deaths, physical, mental, and sexual abuse as well as toxic relationships. which may be upsetting for some readers. you are advised not to continue if you feel uncomfortable to these types of plots.

“You can romanticize me all you wish, but the devil wrapped in silk is still the devil.” — A Word to My Lovers

“With all due respect, Juana, but are you like…” Jaehyun paused as he shifted casually on his seat, a cigarette bud adorning his fingertips. “... sick in the head?” he asked, finger pointing to his temple to visualize his insult towards the witch.

“Every hunter had done it! I don’t see any reason why Y/N must refuse,” taunted Eva, which earned her a solid look from Lucas who was sitting beside Jaehyun.

Jaehyun echoed a humorless laugh as he leaned back on his seat, casually reaching for your hand with his. Hands that you have learned how to love these past few months of being in the Academy. It was insane how a simple gesture could give you a lot of strength during this dreary time. Jaehyun has that impact on you.

When no one answered, Eva straightened her back and plastered you a smirk. “Besides, the ball is in a month. It’s only right to test Y/N’s abilities to know if she’s qualified to kill… Alena.”

Your heart made a jump. It’s been months since you’ve known that Eva knows your true intentions for coming to the Academy. But she was too bold to admit that now. Yet Juana didn’t even give her a warning look as she remained composed on her own seat. Lucas was the only one who kept judging Eva.

“So… the truth has been unveiled. You really do know my intentions,” you sarcastically stated. Since Juana lied to you, it wasn’t far-fetched to expect some apology.

But she only smiled, the endearing and youthful one that betrayed her deception of you. “Eva’s really talkative, don’t you think, Y/N?” she sighed, “But I hope you don’t mind me telling her about your plans. She’s my most trusted hunter alongside Lucas,” Juana pronounced while holding Eva’s arm.

What about the collateral damage? You wanted to ask, but you kept your mouth shut and flashed her your jovial smile instead. They think they’ve deceived you, little did they know that you were better than that.

“Of course, Madame. Eva has been good to me ever since, after all,” you said that with a lingering stare at Eva’s frame. Both of you held each other’s eyes for a minute before she looked away. An infinitesimal triumph, but triumph nonetheless.

“So… it is settled then? Next week, Y/N, be prepared—”

“No one’s preparing because she’s not doing it. You are a mad witch—”

You cut off Jaehyun before he gave way too much information and insult, “Next week, Madame.”

Jaehyun’s burning gaze bore into you, his blatant judgement about your decision evident in that pretty face of his. You stood up before a scream would erupt from your throat. Being in a room with these deceitful people felt as if poison clawing in your veins.

You pressed a palm on your chest and gave the witch a low bow before pivoting on your heels and walking away. Jaehyun’s reassuring presence followed behind you. As the door to Juana’s chambers closed, you let out a heavy sigh.

“What were you thinking?” Jaehyun snapped. “You are going in a suicide mission!”

Forcing yourself to be strong in front of the witch and her hunters have sapped all your energy. Treacherous tears threatened to fall from your eyes as you looked at Jaehyun. His hard gaze softened upon beholding your weakness that he quickly enveloped you into a tight hug.

Against the warm embrace, you mumbled, “What would you have me do?”

In his moderate voice, he answered, “Quit. Now. We’ll find another way to avenge your parents.”

“We have another way, but I need Juana’s protection,” you whispered before pulling away.

Jaehyun wiped your tears with his thumb, “Can’t Rhianon do that?”

“I’ll have to ask her. But Juana’s the one who cursed Alena. I believe her protection would be the strongest against the Primus.”

He nodded before placing a kiss to your head. “Let’s go to Rhianon. We have to plan everything now.”

At your nod of approval, Jaehyun held your wrist and walked side by side with you. Thankfully, no more students could be seen walking in the corridors and Juana’s chamber was a private place, you don’t have to worry about venatrixes seeing you hold hands with a vampire.

It has been two months since you came to the Academy. One more month until the dreaded gathering would take place, and Juana has never been stricter to you. Once in a while, she would supervise your eating. Doing so much as to sit across from you in the canteen to watch you eat. She has been observing your training to see how strong you’ve become since joining the Academy, too.

There were improvements, according to Jaehyun and Lucas. Your bones had become stronger because of sparring with the hunter in daylight, and training with the vampire at night. It was tiring and bone-jarring, but fulfilling nevertheless. Muscles have developed and your stamina has been boosted. But they don’t need to tell you that it still wasn’t enough to kill Alena. You have never seen her, and didn’t dare ask them to describe her to you. A small part of you was surely scared— no, a large part of you. But when you stare at the ceilings and remember your parents, all fear vanishes.

You opened the door and spotted Rhianon sitting on the floors, stacks of books were sprawled in front of her. She has been working non-stop to study the spells that would be useful for your case. At the sound of the door opening, she quickly closed all the books.

“It’s me,” you announced with a smile.

Rhianon breathed a sigh of relief before opening her books for the second time. “I thought there were some unwanted visitors— oh.” She whistled upon seeing Jaehyun’s frame entering the room.

Jaehyun gave her a small smile before joining you in sitting across from Rhianon.

“How was the meeting?” she asked as she adjusted her glasses.

You shared a glance with Jaehyun, then you cleared your throat, “Juana… well, it was stupid—”

“It really was,” Jaehyun muttered.

You gave him a look before proceeding, “She would enchant the whole forest so the season would be winter over that specific place—”

Rhianon slammed her book shut and stared at you with her brows knitted together. “She would what?!”

Running a hand through the thin pages of one of her books, you sighed, “You heard me, Rhi. She’s a powerful witch so she’d turn the season to winter over the forest and would leave me there alone to fight off entities she hadn’t bothered to describe.”

After your sparring with Jaehyun, Rhianon came dashing towards the both of you and told you of Juana’s summoning. It was past seven p.m. then. Eva and Lucas were already sitting on the couches when you and Jaehyun arrived. Lucas’s apologetic look gave off the storm that was about to take place. And it did.

Juana waited for you to sit comfortably on the sofa before breaking the dreadful mission: she would enchant the forest and turn the season to winter. She would leave you alone in the forest and would observe your strategies on how to survive such desolate and cold places. Not only that, she decided to include different types of monster of her own craft to make everything much worse and dangerous for you. That’s why Jaehyun had gone batshit over the meeting— he didn’t want you to do it.

“And for what?” Rhianon scoffed, “To ged rid of you?”

“Perhaps that’s the true reason behind this foolishness. But Eva also stated that every hunter goes through this mission.”

“Well, that’s bullcrap. I haven’t heard of that before.”

Some part of you knew that. The mission could be a trick made to finally oust you out of the Academy and from the Earth for good— because according to Juana’a description, nobody would survive her mission. They view you as a collateral damage, and that’s how they treat you. What a sickening joke. You wanted to kill them for that.

“As expected. They are trying to deceive you, Y/N,” Jaehyun uttered beside you.

“I know. But I am deceiving them, too, by this—” You motioned the books splayed on the floor, “— if we could find the right spell to find Hubert’s lost tongue before next week, I wouldn’t have to do Juana’s mission.”

Rhianon hummed, “That’s right. And the three of us could fuck right off this Academy.”

“What’s the spell you’re searching for?” Jaehyun decided to ask.

“Something about restoration and divination. But the latter is my priority. We won’t be able to restore Hubert’s tongue if we don’t know where it is,” Rhianon explained while pulling another book out of the stacks. “And before I forgot… we have to have something of Hubert’s possession to locate his missing body part.”

“We have to revisit the cemetery and ask Hubert if we could borrow anything from him,” you chimed in.

Jaehyun crossed his arms. “I know that ghost. He’s old and ornery. If we want something from him, we have to steal it.”

“With that, I need to read about ghost-binding spells. We don’t want Hubert to follow us after,” Rhianon suggested.

Information suddenly weaved its way through your mind. Upon weeks of reading Latin because of Rhianon’s books, you have known some things already. You hurriedly searched for the book who has a tight binding on it and splayed its contents wide to search for the spell.

“It’s here. The ghost-binding spell.” You pointed to the text. “We have to bring candles and salt.”

Rhianon leaned and craned her neck to see the text herself. Then she nodded while whispering the words, “Alright. This is easy and I’m confident that I can do this. We could visit the cemetery tonight.”

“I’ll take a shower and get ready,” you stated before standing up. Rhianon and Jaehyun both nodded at you then you left them to continue their readings with a wide smile plastered on your face.

—

The cascading water from the shower was the only noise that could be heard in the whole room. But Jaehyun’s other senses could pick up elements which couldn’t be seen by the naked eye. It was Jaehyun’s first time to go back here after the night with you. But the scent was strong. And this pungent scent that was incessantly piercing his nostrils was surely getting on his nerves.

No, it wasn’t Rhianon nor Y/N’s smell. Jaehyun has grown accustomed to the former because of spending time reading books and discussing plans with her. The latter, Jaehyun has already memorized like the scent of his favorite perfume. This couldn’t be your smell.

Because it was Sicheng. What was he doing in this room?

Jaehyun feigned reading to observe Rhianon. You trust her. But Jaehyun couldn’t do the same. He needed answers before he could do that.

If they would do this together, he has to trust Rhianon. And the girl must give her a reason to.

“Rhianon,” Jaehyun stated. The girl looked up to him while raising both her brows. “What was Sicheng doing here?”

The woman didn’t even blink, let alone act surprised. She only sighed and placed the book from her lap to the floors. Jaehyun heightened his senses for any attacks nor incantations, but Rhianon only leaned her back to the sides of her bed.

“How do you know him?”

Jaehyun answered, “He’s a friend of mine.”

“It took you awhile to notice,” Rhianon sighed, “But… let’s wait for Y/N to finish up so I could tell you both.”

As if on cue, the door from the bathroom suddenly opened. You stepped outside wearing fresh jeans and a simple shirt. The tension from Jaehyun could be felt to where you stood. It drew your forehead in a crease but you shrugged it off and sauntered up to them.

“Aren’t you showering, Rhi?”

But instead of Rhianon, it was Jaehyun who answered. “She has something to tell you.”

So, there was truly something going on while you showered. You could only hope that whatever Rhianon has to tell you, it wasn’t terrible.

Rhianon glimpsed at Jaehyun before clearing her throat and talking, “This is something that I should’ve told you before. But I really wasn’t sure whether I could trust you with this secret.”

You reached for her hands and squeezed them with yours. “I understand,” you said. It was true. And you know how it feels like to want to trust someone but couldn’t because of inhibitions.

“My… my brother went here months ago to visit me.”

“You have a brother?”

She chewed on her lower lip before speaking, “Yes and he’s a vampire.”

Your jaw dropped. Rhianon has a sibling, and he’s a vampire. “Wha… how? Are you a vampire, too?” You glanced at Jaehyun, who was looking at Rhianon with a careful examination.

“No, silly. I’m not,” Rhianon chuckled lowly, “My brother… he was turned.”

“Turned? Like Juana—” Your words were halted as realization dawned on you. You stared at Rhianon, wide-eyes with your mouth dropping to the floors. At your perplexed bearing, she nodded.

“My brother is her son.”

If your eyes could roll off from their sockets, they surely would. Everything seemed to make sense right now. “That’s why you are helping me. To save your brother.” You huffed out a breath, “I would help you, Rhianon.”

“That’s the thing, Y/N. My brother, Sicheng, doesn’t want to be saved. Juana only crafted it in her mind that he needs her help. But no. Sicheng’s turning was consensual.”

You have tons and tons of questions in your mind but one thing is for certain: Juana lied to you, over and over again. She convinced you that she needed to save her son. But here was the truth, slowly unraveling itself to you.

“How… oh my God. Then Juana is your—?” Sweats formed in your forehead by the realization. If Rhianon truly is Juana’s daughter, how could you guarantee that the witch isn’t privy of your plans?

Rhianon quickly put a finger to your lips before you could utter the word. “Yes. But she doesn’t know how to raise a child so I’d appreciate it if we don’t call her my mother.” At your confused expression, Rhianon added, “We weren’t really on good terms, Y/N. Trust me. And I didn’t tell a soul about your secrets. I’m merely telling you this to let you know that there isn’t any need to kill Alena and put your life in danger while doing Juana’s dirty work.”

That explains all her book of magic and enchantments, of her little vials of potions, and her ability to understand Latin. And that also confirms your question of her true nature. Rhianon truly is a witch.

“What’s in it for you?” Jaehyun chided in. He bore a flat expression on his face while asking the question. You know, deep in your heart, that Jaehyun would dive into every detail to make sense of Rhianon’s revelation. For that, you are thankful. He was always the steady flame beside you: prepared to burn brighter if needed.

Rhianon let a bitter smile on her lips. “I love my brother. He’s the only relative I have out there who cares for me.” Then she looked at Jaehyun, “He’s your friend, right?”

“He’s your friend?” you repeated dubiously. He didn’t tell you that. Then you remember that you have no idea about Jaehyun’s life aside from him, being a vampire.

“Yes. But I didn’t know that they were brothers and sisters,” Jaehyun explained, “I caught Sicheng’s scent here. So I decided to ask.”

“Don’t worry, Y/N, Jaehyun doesn’t really know,” Rhianon chuckled at your agitated face. “That’s it. I love my brother. And I want to end Juana’s rashness. Sicheng’s contented to have a life of his own: one he didn’t had the chance to experience while being a half-mortal and half-witch before.” Sadness made its way to Rhianon’s face, her lips frowned by the memories flashing in her mind. “If you’re a boy and a witch at the same time, you’re next to nothing when it comes to the witches. And… this might sound wrong, but I’m really thankful that Alena took him. Now, he has a purpose, albeit being a Primus’ dog.”

Jaehyun made a sound. “You wanted to prove Juana wrong. You wanted to defeat her without fighting her.”

Rhianon nodded at Jaehyun while holding your hands tightly. “She thinks of me as a weak girl who won’t cast a simple spell in her life. But I’ll prove her wrong.” She smiled at you, her dark irises twinkling with what you could only perceive as hope. “I’ll prove her wrong and I will help you, Y/N. So let’s buckle up and find your parents’ murderer, shall we?”

—

The moon was a ball of white light in the heavens that night. A witch was engaged in murmuring incantations under her breath to heighten the magic pouring from her system. Latin echoed through the silence with the soft whispers of the wind against the curtains through the open windows commixing with the sound.

Juana counted the days since she’d lost her son to a vampire— to her worst enemy. Alena Detritius, the vampire Primus of this wretched town.

They say it was her fault. Her late husband's mother, Sicilia, had pointed her fingers at Juana and told her wretched names, accusing her of letting the witches kill her son. Her own daughter— Rhianon— has never failed to remind her of her weakness and the dwindling magic in her veins. She won’t let that child render her impotent. If it comes to that, Juana won’t hesitate to drive her knife through the girl’s chest. This magic in her blood is hers and hers alone. She hasn’t eaten mud and dust, struggled to survive against other witches’ cruelty just to let this happen to her.

The glory is hers. And it is no one for the taking.

The words pouring out from her mouth have become stronger and sinister. Juana raised up her arms to call upon the known incantations and the power behind them, drawing them closer and closer to her— when a presence suddenly caught her attention.

Juana opened her eyes in alarm. There is someone in the shadows. Someone with a wrath so great it could rival Lucifer’s. Juana drew her fingertips to the air to intensify the glow of the candles. They made a hissing sound as they burned brighter to illuminate the dark corners of the room.

“Show yourself,” Juana commanded.

The shadow emerged from the darkness, revealing a man whom Juana yearned to hug all her life.

“My son,�� she gasped before stepping out from her circle and walking towards Sicheng.

He backed away while raising his hand in warning. “I’m not here to reunite with you, and I’m not here to play games, either,” he declared, stabbing the hope of the witch, “Who is Rhianon’s roommate?”

Juana withdrew her hands and placed them on her sides instead. The question wasn’t something she had seen coming, still she struggled to remain unruffled. “An aspiring hunter. Her parents were killed by a vampire, she’s here to learn what befell them.”

She heard her son’s sardonic chuckle as she turned her back against him. Juana walked towards her wooden table to pour herself some wine. The night is cold and jarring and she needed something to warm her veins.

“Aspiring hunter?” Sicheng hummed, “Or maybe… she’s a hunter that you’d send to rescue me, no?”

“All of this is for you, Sicheng. To rescue you—”

Sicheng bared his fangs and hissed, “I don’t need saving!”

Juana gulped down the contents of her glass. “You do. That vampire took you and turned you without your consent—”

“No. She didn’t. You know that,” Sicheng said with enough hatred, “I crawled my way towards her when the witches failed to kill me.” The vampire took a step towards the witch. “Where were you when they had me flogged?”

Juana whirled on her son, cheeks damped with the shed tears. “What would you have me do? I was becoming a Supreme, Sicheng! They wanted me to prove that I have power in my veins—”

“By watching your son being tortured to death?!” Sicheng screamed, his eyes widening in utter fury. “And you still call yourself a mother after that?” he asked with repugnance.

Tears fell like waterfall from the witch’s eyes, yet the vampire’s heart in front of her doesn’t beat no more. And even if it could, it won’t certainly feel any ounce of pity.

“I am your mother,” Juana sniffed, desperation laced with her voice, “You won’t ever change that.”

“You disgust me,” Sicheng seethed, “As long as I live, I will always despise you.”

Juana felt as if her innards were being hurled out of her by the words. She knew that her son hated him— but it never failed to hurt whenever he reminded her of it.

“I will become better for you.” Juana desperately clutched Sicheng’s shirt when he turned to leave. But the man only looked at her as if she wasn’t her coven’s Supreme. As if she wasn’t powerful. As if she wasn’t his mother— and swatted her hands away with a raging touch.

“Do me a favor and fuck off,” Sicheng spat, “mother.”

With that, the vampire turned to leave through the windows. He gripped the windowsill tightly and jumped, leaving a devastated witch alone in her chambers.

—

Whatever he does, and whatever he says, Sicheng’s wrath couldn’t be quenched. He never wanted to see Juana’s face again. Her mere shadows could pull Sicheng back to the night where he was whipped to death in a circle made by the witches.

Juana stood on the sidelines then, her face inscrutable. She watched as Sicheng bled and wished for death.

All he wanted was to live; to bask in the sun and swim in the ocean, to feel the crisp wind at night and hear the owls hooting from the trees. He was a simple boy with simple dreams in a simple town.

Sicheng once believed that he was untouchable. His mother is a witch, the next Supreme. But what was his age when the world proved him wrong? Eighteen. He was a fruit ready to ripen, but they plucked him from the branches before he could be something. Because of what? Because he was born as a man in a coven of witches.

He never understood it, no. Why would you suffer for being born the way you were? Why did the witches decide him as nothing because of the male hormones in his system? He could be something. But they took that away by flogging him— too many times to count.

It was a ritual— Juana said. It was a ritual for the greater good. For the protection of the witches. But Sicheng was a witch, too, right? Why would they sacrifice their likes for their protection? Wasn’t that hideous?

Bound and gagged, nobody heard Sicheng’s prayers nor scream but his little sister, Rhianon. She was eleven years old when she defied the witches. In the dead of the night, she and her grandmother risked their lives by helping Sicheng flee from the sordid situation he was into.

With his wounds screaming at every step he took, Sicheng struggled to run for his life. The gods had listened— but their ears were of consequences. So Sicheng ran, towards nowhere. Until he fell face first to the ground in front of Alena’s mansion.

She gave him another life. Purpose. And for that, he was forever grateful.

“How was your visit to your… mother?”

Sicheng shook off his thoughts when he heard Alena’s sultry voice. She was in her usual place, at the end of the hall, sitting on her throne. Silver against the moonlight infiltrating from the gothic windows behind her, Alena’s hair was bound in a tight coil at the back of her head.

He stood rigid before bowing. “The girl’s parents were killed by a vampire and she wants to be a hunter, she said. But I know that she’s meant to rescue me,” he explained.

Alena’s lowly chuckle echoed through the hall. “She’s a crazy bitch, don’t you think?” Then she stood up and walked languorously towards Sicheng. Her feet were bizarrely white against the stygian floors. “How about my beloved fiancé? I could smell the particulars from you already,” she hummed.

Jaehyun is his friend. But Alena is his Primus. Even if he lied, Alena would know the truth one way or another.

So Sicheng cleared his throat. “I saw him at the Academy and told him about the incoming gathering. He refused, my lady.”

Sicheng couldn’t perceive the emotion in Alena’s face, for it was forbidden to look at her in the eyes. But he could feel the unleashed animal roaring inside Alena.

“Why?” The word was laconic, but the danger in it was overflowing.

“He… he’s protecting a student. I was told— by Jaehyun himself— that he would kill for h—”

Alena heckled, “What an imbecile son-of-a-bitch.” Then she sighed. “But we couldn’t really choose whom we love, could we? Imbecilic or not, I love that fool.” Her gown swooshed as she whirled towards her throne. “It’s time I meet the girl.”

“Do I bring her to you?”

Alena sat and propped up her chin to her palms. “No. She’s coming on her own.”

—

With the same eeriness and mystery to it, the name of the cemetery greeted you by prickling the hairs on your neck. Unlike the first time you visited, the wind was balmy tonight, making droplets of sweats to coat your forehead. You tried not to view the atmosphere as an ominous sign and proceeded to walk alongside Jaehyun and Rhianon.

“Where’s Hubert?” Rhianon whispered beside you while holding her flashlight.

“We still have a long way to go,” you whispered back.

Jaehyun didn’t need any flashlight because of his vampiric vision, so he walked ahead of you. “Be careful of the mud,” he reminded.

Despite the stifling weather, the cemetery was surprisingly damped. Murky patches of soil could be spotted here and there, caking the soles of your sneakers with mud.

“Where do you plan to do the spell?” you uttered before hopping over a muddy plot of earth.

Rhianon followed suit before answering you, “Near Hubert’s lair. Or in his exact lair.”

After minutes of trekking the familiar pathway, the rusty railings of Hubert’s den loomed from afar. Crickets sang their songs as you drew nearer, with the hooting of owls to join the sound.

Jaehyun roamed his eyes around, probably searching for intruders or any unwanted guests. “Alright. You could start your spell now,” he announced.

You helped Rhianon set the candles to the ground, with Jaehyun guarding your backs. The earth was dry, it was hard to dig a small hole to make the candles stand.

“We have to make another circle.” Rhianon, then, fished for the salt inside her small bag and clutched a handful of it. She sprinkled the salt in a circular shape. “Shit,” she muttered, “I forgot the matchsticks.”

Jaehyun walked towards you and offered his lighter. “Here.”

Rhi took it from his hands but before she could light a candle, the air blew harshly. The hair on your nape stood immediately, not because of the cold, but because of the entity standing in front of Hubert’s den.

It was Hubert himself. And he doesn’t look happy as he took in the circle on the ground.

“Hurry,” Jaehyun hissed, “I’ll draw him out. Y/N, you know what to do.”

You gulped and nodded. Jaehyun has planned the stealing on the way to the cemetery. You would be the one to steal from Hubert, and because of him being a ghost, you would have to try and make your way into his den to search for something, anything. While Rhianon would work on the ghost-binding spell.

“Hubert,” Jaehyun said with his endearing smile, “This is a misunderstanding. The girls are only—” He didn’t finish his sentence for Hubert let out a snarl and sauntered up to you and Rhianon.

“Shit, shit,” you muttered incessantly.

Rhianon have successfully kindled the candles. She was whispering Latin while Hubert drew closer. You gave Rhianon one last look before dashing towards Hubert’s den.

He let out another roar when he noticed what you were trying to do. Instead of interrupting Rhianon, he focused his attention solely to your running form. Jaehyun stood before Hubert, blocking his way to you.

Your eyes grew frantic, realizing that Hubert was nothing but a phantom. He could easily walk past Jaehyun— or so you believed.

The balmy air grew brisk as some energy exuded from Jaehyun’s frame. You have no idea what it was, nor how did he do it. Perhaps it was his being half-dead which drew Hubert in a halt. You wasted no time to ponder what happened and sprinted inside Hubert’s den.

It was no larger than a cubicle in a public bathroom. And it was empty. There was nothing but dried leaves, dust, and rust.

“There’s nothing in here!” you shouted as you peeked your head to the corroded railings.

Rhianon was still kneeling on the ground, with Hubert’s spirit slowly stepping back to be captured by the circle. Jaehyun snapped his head towards you, his fangs visible with the glint of red on his pupils. Seeing him in his vampire stature never failed to amaze and creeped you out at the same time.

He sauntered up towards the small space of Hubert’s den, and sniffed the air around him. You stood in the corner, anticipating Jaehyun’s next move. Then he walked to the wall behind you. You watched him pull out a brick to reveal a small niche. A small paper was inside it.

“What is that?” you asked, peering into the paper on Jaehyun’s hand.

It was a picture. A picture of a woman and a girl.

“Is that Hubert?” You pointed to the man standing beside the woman who’s carrying a small girl in her arms. The three of them were donned in Victorian clothing. Written at the back of the paper were the words, ‘1861. Agatha and I yearn for you, my love. Please, return safe. — Diana’

“His wife and… daughter,” Jaehyun uttered.

Something pulled on your heartstrings. Time had taken its toll upon the paper. The edges were slowly decaying, leaving Hubert’s arm missing. This could be the last memory of him or his family. It would be wretched to steal it away.

“We… we can’t take that. Let’s find—”

Jaehyun looked up to you. “This is his last possession, Y/N.”

You rolled your lower lip with your teeth. “That’s why we couldn’t simply take it away.”

“I know this is hard. Trust me, I’m having second thoughts myself. But this is the only thing that belongs to him. If we don’t take this, we won’t have a chance to make him talk.”

He has a point. No, Jaehyun was correct. In order to make everything work, you have to do this. You took the picture from his hand and stared at it for a while before nodding.

When the two of you exited Hubert’s home, he was already standing in the circle, with Rhianon watching him in amusement.

“Did you find anything?” she asked.

You glanced at Jaehyun before nodding at Rhianon.

At once, Hubert wailed as he realized what you’ve discovered. Feeling as if your heart was nailed to the ground, you sauntered up towards Hubert and put a distance between you.

“I know you know what we’ve found.” Literal tears fell down his cheeks at that. You sharply inhaled. “I promise I will return it to you as soon as possible. You love them, I know. I understand you. I lost my parents, too. And this is the only way to find their murderer— I’m sorry, Hubert.”

He tried to move, but he was bound to the circle. You fought off tears as you turned your back against him. The poor man’s ghost wailed until you were out of his sight.

Rhianon and Jaehyun exchanged suggestions on how best to perform the divination. But your mind was clouded— unable to think clearly. Hubert’s cries haunted you back to the Academy.

He had a family. What happened to them… and what happened to him? It’s 20**. The picture was taken back in the 1800’s. Almost two hundred years. Certainly, his family had already died. But why is his spirit still tied to the mortal realm? Why hasn’t he seen the white light yet?

“Y/N?” Jaehyun clutched your shoulder softly, willing you back to Earth.

You blinked. “What is it?”

“Rhianon and I have decided to do the divination tonight. Is that alright with you?”

Gulping, you smoothed your shirt and gave them an encouraging smile. Your bones felt sluggish, but you have to do this as soon as possible. “Yes.”

The trip back to your room was occupied with tiptoes and elated hearts. It is not pleasant to prowl these spaces in the dead of night. The security guards are extremely harsh when it comes to reckless students.

Rhianon shut the door, wasting no time to grab something inside her closet. As you sat on the floors yet again, you occupied yourself in reading the contents of Rhianon’s first book of magic. Jaehyun did the same.

“Could you understand Latin?” you curiously asked. He was skimming way faster than you did which made you inquisitive.

The edges of his lips turned upwards, revealing a small smile. “My vampire nature had somehow made it possible.”

And perhaps it was his favorite part of being a vampire. It was a dead language, but his eyes had an unusual enthusiasm to them as he scanned and read through the letters. You felt your heart ramming against your chest at the sight of him. As if all the burdens in his shoulders have been lifted.

“Oh, there it is. Divination,” Jaehyun uttered in amusement while tapping the word on the parchment. Then he caught you staring as he looked up to you. “We’re one step closer, Y/N.”

“Thank you,” you whispered.

Reaching out for your cheek, Jaehyun uttered, “Anything for you.”

Rhianon suddenly cleared her throat, gaining both your attention. You shifted and looked up to see her holding a cup. She sat and took the book from Jaehyun’s lap.

Pointing at the golden cup in her hand, you inquired, “What’s that for?”

Different types of pebbles rolled off the floor after Rhianon threw the contents of the cup. “For guidance.” Then she stretched out a hand to Jaehyun. “What did you find?

Familiar stinging wrapped your throat as Jaehyun pulled out the picture from his back pocket and handed it to Rhianon. With sadness like your own, Rhianon observed the picture.

“This is… his family,” she said. “I wonder what happened to them.”

Laying the picture flat on the flooring, Rhianon circled the air above the picture with open palms. She stared hard at the picture, brows furrowed and jaw clenching. It was clear that she’s having a rough time locating Hubert’s tongue.

What if it couldn’t be detected at all? You shook off the thoughts. There is no point being pessimistic right now.

Rhianon murmured something under her breath, hands steady above the picture. You heedlessly reached out for Jaehyun’s hand and grasped tightly. Agonizing minutes had passed, yet Rhianon continued to murmur Latin.

Then she gasped, as if she was punched in the gut. Your knuckles were white, holding Jaehyun in a bone-crushing force.

“A mansion,” Rhianon began, “Its floors were the blackest of stones. There is a throne… at the edge of the hall— and— shit.” Veins protruding, Rhianon’s hands trembled. “A huge tree. Oak.”

This time, it was Jaehyun who grasped your hand firmly. It didn’t hurt, but there was something in it that made you look at him. His face was ashen as he waited patiently for Rhianon’s next words.

“In its roots there lay a wooden box.” Then Rhianon stilled. “Something inside it belongs to Hubert.” She retracted her hands to her sides and looked up to you. “I… I’m not sure if it’s his tongue, Y/N. It’s… blurry.”

You forced a smile despite the failure. “At least we now have a starting point. We only have to search for that place.”

“We don’t have to search anymore,” Jaehyun chided in. Both you and Rhianon looked at him. His jaw was clenched in concentration. “I know where it is.”

A wide smile spread out on your lips. Destiny was still on your side in this battle. Delightful, you held Jaehyun’s shoulder. “Where is it?”

“Alena’s mansion.”

—

Like a winking white flame in the heavens, the stars scattered themselves throughout the whole vastness of the skies. You sat on the grass, with Jaehyun playing with your hair.

Yesterday, you had ventured to the cemetery and stole a family picture which belongs to a ghost. After that, your witch friend performed Divination using her power. And you have found out that Hubert’s tongue has been kept in the backyard in Alena’s mansion because of your vampire lover, Jaehyun.

Yet you felt as if the supernatural occurrence was still far from ending.

“How did you know that it was Alena’s mansion?” You turned your head sideways to ask Jaehyun. He seated himself behind you, attempting to tie your hair to whatever bun it would fit.

The man wrapped his arms around your torso. “I’ve lived with her since I was turned. That’s why.”

Alena turned him. And he’d lived with her ever since. They were engaged. So you cleared your throat. “Did you love her?” You did your best to sound indifferent as possible.

Jaehyun hummed, placing his chin to your shoulder. “To be honest? I think so. I won’t tolerate everything she’d done for me if not.”

When you anticipated for a little pang in your chest and felt nothing, you leaned your head back to his own shoulder. “What did she do to you?”

He chuckled— so deliciously masculine that you won’t mind hearing it forever. “That’s a secret.”

“We couldn’t hide secrets from each other, you know. Lovers don’t do that.” The word tickled your insides— like butterflies fluttering their wings in your stomach.

“Oh. We are lovers?” He faked amusement. You wiggled yourself free from him, but Jaehyun held tight. A rumble of chuckles echoing through him again. “I love you.”

You stilled, then whirled to face him fully. “What did you say?”

Adoration danced in his irises, paired with a smile which transformed his whole face into something… human.

Jaehyun took your face with his hands, cupping your cheeks protectively before placing a kiss on your lips. He drew back in an inch, then whispered the words again, “I love you.”

You didn’t know what it was— but tears seared the back of your eyes. The words were full of love for a person whose heart doesn’t beat.

“Are you sure?” You breathed. “I… Jaehyun, I am a human. I—”

Jaehyun shut you up by kissing your lips again. He pulled away, still wearing his smile. “Let’s not worry about that.”

You couldn’t help but worry. You are a human. No matter what relationship you would build after all this chaos, the eternity of him and your humanness inside you would hinder a happy ever after.

What would life be with Jaehyun? If he’s half-dead, if he isn’t human? There would be life— yes— if you would force destiny to bend at your will. Yet you didn’t want to fool yourself. However strong the love you have for him, it’s not enough to ask him to bite and turn you. You love this life— you cherish the humanity in you.

“I would die. One day,” you persisted, “And you will live, for as long as time exists.”

“Angel,” Jaehyun whispered as he placed his forehead against yours, “Yes, I am afraid to lose you. Fuck, it makes me mad just thinking about it. But whatever this life would offer us, no matter how constrained it might be, I’ll be forever grateful that once in my lifetime I’ve met and loved you.”

Wrapping your hands around his neck, you inhaled sharply. “Oh, Jaehyun. I love you too.”

He breathed you in and embraced you tightly. “We’ll do everything. Together.”

—

“Are we ready?” Rhianon asked, strapping her dagger to her waists and knives to her legs.

Securing every strap on your suit, you did the same to your weapons. “I am.”

A night after finding out where Hubert’s tongue could possibly be, the time has already come to finally retrieve it from Alena. If you were having second thoughts on whether to kill the Vampire Primus, you shook all the uncertainties off. The one thing you have been yearning to find is located at her mansion. You needed to come to her one way or another.

But in the deepest part of your heart, you wished that the night would show you mercy and would let you leave her mansion unscathed.

Truthfully, you could ask nicely. However dumb it might sound— you truly could. But if Alena has something to do with that part of Hubert’s body, you weren’t certain if she’d let it go by simply handing it to you.

Why was it kept hidden six feet under the ground if she’s not hiding something, right? There must be a reason for that. Chopping off a ghost’s tongue isn’t usual, even for a vampire. Not unless she’s hiding something— and only Hubert knew what it was.

Rhianon suddenly handed you a vial of clear liquid. “It will not save us from the vampires, but it would lower the chance of them sniffing our scents.” She took another vial from the pocket of her suit and drank it straight. Rhianon wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I’ve worked on that the night you went out with Jaehyun.”

You stared at the vial. There were tiny bubbles inside. You pulled the stopper out and drank it wholeheartedly. It left a bitter taste in your tongue, like ants biting the flesh. But it gradually lessened until it vanished.

Rhianon took the empty vial from your hand and threw it to the trash can. “Let’s go.”

You nodded and started walking behind her. It was ten p.m. according to the wall clock.

Both your gasp echoed through the whole room as Rhianon swung the door open and saw Lucas standing in the doorway.

He stared at the both of you— eyes wide. “Where are you going?”

Rhianon reached for your hand and squeezed tightly, willing you to speak on her behalf. You couldn’t even speak yourself, lest you would burst open all your plans to Lucas. “I— we… are going to practice!”

His brows furrowed in confusion. “It’s ten p.m.. No hunters are allowed outside anymore.”

“Why don’t you come inside for a while? Hm?” Rhianon offered, turning her body sideways to let Lucas walk in.

He glanced at the both of you, confusion and intrigue tattooed in his eyes. But he walked in nonetheless.

You cleared your throat when Lucas had finally seated himself to Rhianon’s swivel chair. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m checking up on the students.”

“That’s new. Why?” For someone who claimed to be enthralled with Lucas, Rhianon surely has improved to conceal her feelings. She looked at Lucas with nothing but curiosity.

Wandering his eyes through the whole of your room, Lucas answered unambiguously, “Juana’s command.”

Rhianon, from beside you, let go off the steam from her body by snorting loudly. “We’re quite fine. You could tell your master that.”

Lucas whirled, hurt clear on his features. “She’s not my master. I serve the corporation, not Juana.”

You wanted to get this over with. Whatever was Lucas’s intention to be visiting at this ungodly hour doesn’t sit well with you. Yet you didn’t know how to tell him to nicely fuck off.

“Are you done? Could we carry on with our business now?” Rhianon folded her arms together.

“Why are you so eager to get rid of me?”

Sighing, you massage your temple. Is this some lover’s quarrel unraveling in front of you?

Rhianon didn’t answer. Then she sauntered up to her closet. You stood there, watching her as her hands grasp something from inside. Sand? You weren’t quiet certain.

“Where are you—” Lucas didn’t finish his sentence for Rhianon blew out whatever was on her palm towards his face. The hunter slowly blinked, trying to fathom what was happening. Then his eyes slowly drooped, as well as his body, and he fell asleep on the floor.

You blinked, confused as to what just happened. But Rhianon clapped her hands to wipe off the last bits of the something in her palms.

“Let’s go. The magic only lasts for thirty minutes. We have to hurry,” Rhianon informed before wrapping her hand around your wrist and pulling you out of the room.

You gave one last look at Lucas’s lethargic state before letting Rhianon guide you away. He’s good to you, but he’s Madame’s hunter. His royalty would always lie to her.

According to Jaehyun, Alena’s mansion was miles away from the Academy. He reckoned that it would take at least three hours to arrive there. If you were swift, you’d arrived at one a.m.: not so perfect time to carry out this mission.

You wanted to do this in the daylight, but Madame didn’t allow you out of her sight. As the gathering gets nearer and nearer, she remained strict. Here and there, she would remind you of her challenge. Once she does that, you wouldn’t be able to gulp down your food no more. And Eva… well, she’s Eva: spiteful, irrational, and brash.

Jaehyun was leaning on a black Camaro with a cigarette adorning his lips when you arrived. Tossing his cigarette like a clapper, he beckoned you closer. “What took you so long?” he asked.

“Lucas saw us.” You gave him no time to speak. “But Rhianon already took care of it.”

He raised a brow at Rhianon, while the latter only shrugged. She ran a hand through the roof of the Camaro, fingers leaving traces because of the dust. “I missed this car.”

“It’s yours?”

“My grandmother’s.” She opened the door for you. “You sit on the bullet.”

Jaehyun would drive, it was planned out already. You hopped on the bullet seat, while Rhianon made her way behind. When all of you had settled yourselves comfortably, Jaehyun revved through the night. Copse became a blur as he picked up the pace, then the Academy behind you became smaller and smaller.

You rode in silence, the tension inside the vehicle was staggering. Guilt wrapped its claws around you as the realization that two lives would be in forfeit tonight because of you hit. You would’ve done this on your own. Truly. And yet behind the courage, you are merely a girl. A human one at that— and you were still scared.

Admitting trepidation doesn’t make one weak: that, you have learned from your parents. It’s alright to ask for help. But this isn’t a normal favor: you would break inside a Primus’ house. No sane human being would offer to come with you— but two souls did.

“I don’t know how to thank the both of you,” you began, eyes still roaming the quiet streets ahead of you. “But… as long as I breathe, I want you both to know that I’m forever in your debt.”

Rhianon stretched out a hand to hold your shoulder. “I’m glad to help you, Y/N. We��ll do this together. You’ll find out who killed your parents and we will exact vengeance.”

You placed a hand above hers. “Thank you, Rhi.”

“I’m here. I’ll protect you as long as I can. And I’m a hard bastard to kill, angel,” Jaehyun chimed in, laying his hand on your thigh.

You placed a hand above hers. “Thank you, Rhi.”

“I’m here. I’ll protect you as long as I can. And I’m a hard bastard to kill, angel,” Jaehyun chimed in, laying his hand on your thigh.

The fear in your heart has been replaced by something that you could only regard as courage. You have your heart, and it is enough. This is for your parents, for your brother. And for your own peace.

The road ahead was deprived of any life. Darkness blanketed the asphalt sinisterly. Insects danced ahead as they were captured by the light provided by Rhianon’s vehicle. Then a huge mansion peeked through the thick fronds of trees covering its vastness.

Jaehyun killed the engine before you could see the whole image of Alena’s mansion. From your distance, even her vampires won’t catch any scent of you— nor hear a beat from your heart.

“We’re here,” Jaehyun announced.

Crickets sang in unison the same time the three of you opened the car doors. Since none of you could see through the dark enshrouded surroundings, Jaehyun led the way.

The sound of squelchy grasses joined the crickets as you entered the groups of tall trees. Not even the moonlight could peek through the thick leaves, resulting in little to no light to guide your way.

“The oak tree you’ve seen is located in her backyard. The walls are high, but not high enough to stop us,” Jaehyun whispered, his head busy scouring the surroundings for any unforeseen danger.

You tried to locate Rhianon with your human eyes, but to no avail. Hands gripping the hilt of your snake dagger, you focused on following Jaehyun instead.

At last, after the long trek towards Alena’s backyards, the tall cemented wall greeted you. In this area, no more trees obscured the moonlight, allowing you to take in the vastness of the wall.

Rhianon deadpanned, “You mean, not high enough for you?”

There was no way you could climb this bland wall. It wasn’t even a gate, but a literal wall. You wouldn’t be able to climb it yourself. There was no niche— nothing.

“This is a thick wall. Once I throw you up, there’s space for you to hold on to.”

“What?!” You and Rhianon exclaimed by whispering in unison.

“There is no other way. This mansion is guarded by vampires. The only area they don’t give much attention to is the backyard,” Jaehyun sighed, “Would you rather knock on her front door and be killed? Trust me, I know my way here.”

You gave Rhianon a shrug before sauntering up to Jaehyun. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

“Don’t be scared,” he teased.

“I’m not.”

He chuckled before standing behind you. Jaehyun placed a hand to both your waists, sending bolts of electricity down your spine. His touch was always fire and thunder against your skin, leaving marks in the deepest parts of your soul. You prayed that after this night, you would still have your vampire beside you.

“I’m ready,” you exhaled.

Jaehyun’s grip tightened, then he threw you upwards. The experience made your stomach curl, as if your insides were being tickled. You quickly grabbed to the top of the wall where the space he was talking about was located. Your body couldn’t even fit, so you stayed crouching, gulping down the fear that you might fall.

Vast was an understatement to describe her backyard. Trees lined up the premises, with the back of her mansion looming from the distance. As an architecture student, you’ve reckoned that the space could still allow two residential houses.

There was a thud beside you, followed by Rhianon’s curses. Not a second after she landed, Jaehyun followed suit.

Like cats over the wall, the three of you crouched. Rhianon almost slipped, earning a gasp from you. But Jaehyun caught her arm before she could fall and break all her bones.

“Fuck, Jaehyun. You said we could fit in!” Rhianon seethed.

“We are fitting in, Rhianon,” Jaehyun chortled, as if he was enjoying the sweats streaming down your faces, “I’ll jump and catch you below.”

You blew out a breath. “Here we go again.”

“Let me jump first, Y/N,” Rhianon gulped.

After Jaehyun made a soundless landing, he once again roamed his eyes around the vicinity. Then he glanced up to Rhianon and gestured to her to jump.

“My ghost will haunt you if I die, Jaehyun,” Rhianon warned before jumping. Just like how Jaehyun threw the both of you, he caught Rhianon by her waists, too.

Rhianon rubbed her hands together before looking up to beckon you to make the jump. You closed your eyes before jumping. The familiar tickles inside your stomach frenzied as you felt the whip of the wind and the fall all at the same time.

Strong hands caught your waists with ease. You opened your eyes to see Jaehyun’s own staring at yours. A ghost of a smile smeared his lips as he put your stray hairs behind your ear.

“Uhm… excuse me? Could we please, you know?” Rhianon chided in, breaking the moment you shared with Jaehyun.

You straightened and rubbed your hand in your hips. Jaehyun’s silly smile grew wider by your embarrassment.

He cleared his throat. “This way.”

But your steps were halted as someone spoke from behind you. The voice was lurid, but the edge was there. It was crooked and it was dangerous as it said: “Welcome, hunters.”

Frozen on your feet, you remained standing. The tautness of your muscles was like a painful numbness. You were caught— without even taking your first step towards the answers.

Jaehyun was the first one to pivot his heels. “Alena,” he said.

If your nerves could scream, they clearly would have. Alena. Jaehyun’s fiancée. She’s here. One circle of your heel would allow you to see her, finally. As much as your curiosity wanted to cage you in its grasp, you couldn’t find the strength to whirl around and face her.

“Rhianon?” Someone gasped from behind you when Rhianon turned on her heel. The voice was masculine, with a particular softness laced with it.

“Sicheng,” Rhianon laconically stated.

Sicheng. Her brother... he’s here with Alena. Somehow, the reality of all that was leafing right now was a lump blocking your air passage. Is there any escape to this chaos? To this danger?

“Welcome back, my love.” Alena’s voice was like a song. A lullaby. For its emotion, you would believe that she had nothing but rainbows in her chest and roses in her heart.

Drinking the last bits of courage to prevent yourself from shaking, you pivoted on your heels.

A woman wearing a dress as red as blood, her skin porcelain and white as bone and hair like a piece of moonlight in itself, smiled at you with red luscious lips. You must admit— you have never seen a woman so beautiful, so alluring at first glance. She was like a goddess, a divinity in her utmost glory. Her dress hugged her body perfectly, revealing the soft curves of her waists. And the plunging neckline displayed her full breasts.

It wasn’t the perfect time for jealousy. But taking in Alena’s features have proved you something: it won’t be a surprise if ever Jaehyun had loved her before.

“What are you doing here Rhianon?” Sicheng asked before giving you a once-over. You stood rigid.

“Oh.” Alena smiled, flashing her pearlescent teeth. “Is she your sister?” she asked before she sauntered up towards Rhianon with leaden steps. Rhianon didn’t back nor flinch away when Alena touched her cheek with her finger. Her proximity allowed your nose to inhale her rich perfume— a sharp smell of a flower you couldn’t name.

Jaehyun took your wrist and pulled you behind him. The action didn’t go unnoticed as Alena snapped her gaze towards him with dead eyes. Then she tugged on Rhianon’s hair forcefully, eliciting a painful groan from your friend.

“Rhianon—!” You took a step forward. But Jaehyun stopped you with his arm.

Sicheng didn’t even move a muscle to where he stood, baffling the wits out of you. Why isn’t he doing anything? Has Alena’s omnipotence rendered him hard-bitten? Is that what a Primus could do?

“Your sister’s a bit of trouble, don’t you think?” Alena catechized before she turned her full attention to Rhianon. “What are you doing here, little dove?” When Rhianon didn’t utter a word, Alena inclined her head towards Sicheng. The latter brought out a dagger from his belt, then handed it willingly to Alena, giving his sister a hard look before returning to where he stood earlier.

You grasped Jaehyun’s arm to wrench it away from you. But he caught your wrist in a viselike grip.

“Don’t move. I beg you,” he whispered, eyes glued to Alena and Rhianon.

Alena faked a sob. “I am hurt, my love. You have never shown me that affection before.” Then she drew the blade closer to Rhianon’s open neck.

You wanted to scream, but your mouth didn’t allow you. This is a trick. If Jaehyun would continue protecting you from Alena, Rhianon’s life would be in forfeit. You’d lose Rhianon, or you’d lose yourself one way or another. The realization of what lies above this night has left a painful throbbing in your heart. How did it go so wrong?

“Again,” Alena hummed, “What are you doing here?” Rhianon still didn’t speak.

You wanted to vomit from the trepidation. This is defeat. And it turned your heart ice-cold. Alena pressed the blade to Rhianon’s neck, drawing blood from her skin. She inhaled the scent, then licked her lips.

Jaehyun must’ve felt something in your bones— the gnawing force to succumb to this trick and save your friend, and the growing fear poisoning your heart. “Don’t say a word, Y/N,” he warned.

Rhianon screamed as Alena slowly dragged the blade along her neck. You saw how it sliced her skin open, allowing blood to stream violently from her neck.

“Please! Stop! Stop!” she shouted. “It hurts!”

Tears pricked the back of your eyes. You shut the world around you as you shouted, “We are here for me!”

A fresh smile had spread out on Alena’s lips as she withdrew the dagger. She snapped her fingers, then two figures emerged from the shadows. The other one held Rhianon by her arms.

“I’ll kill you if you touch her,” Jaehyun bared his fangs towards the other vampire.

Alena chuckled. “Such huge ball sacks for a pea-sized brain, my love.” Jaehyun tensed from the words. Your eyes grew harder as you stared at Alena’s frame. Then the Primus sighed. “Shall we play this game, then?”

Once again, Alena inclined her head to Sicheng. Things happened in a blur, but you felt the sharp air as Jaehyun unsheathed your snake dagger and spun around so fast. Then you stared in horror as he wrapped his hand around Sicheng’s neck, the tip of the dagger pressed to his chest.

“Touch her. And I’ll drive this dagger to your chest,” Jaehyun warned.

“Jaehyun—” Sicheng tried to speak but Jaehyun drove the dagger deeper. Its tip disappeared, making Sicheng hiss in pain.

You glance at Rhianon, who was sitting on the ground while clutching her wounded neck. Her hands were bloodied, but the color of the suit obscured the blood that has surged from her neck. You wanted to run to her, but Alena was standing right in front.

“Let it go, Sicheng,” she echoed.

The tip of the dagger was red with blood when Sicheng backed away. Jaehyun gripped the hilt tightly, not letting his eyes stray away from his friend’s walking figure. When Sicheng arrived at Alena’s side, he crouched and held his sister by her shoulder. With the remaining strength from Rhianon, she flinched away.

“Leave us,” Alena commanded. Her face impassive, intensifying the danger that lies behind her eyes. “Tend to your sister, Sicheng. Once I saw her in my house again, it would be the last time you’d see her.”

You purse your lips together as you watch Sicheng lead his sister away. Rhianon backed away, as if disgusted to be touched by her own brother. Sicheng’s lips formed in a thin line, his eyes speaking a language only the two of them understood. Rhianon gave you one last apologetic look before she left with her brother and the two other vampires.

In the dead of the night, a human stood together with two vampires in a place she didn’t know, waiting for the predator to finally pounce and cage her like a weak human being that she was. Still, she refused to falter.

You remained standing, chin held up high despite the weakness in your knees. She would never have the satisfaction of knowing that she scares you.

“Let her go in peace. And I’ll do as you like,” Jaehyun said out of nowhere.

“Jaehyun!” you seethed. You won’t go without him and Rhianon.

“What’s the fun in that?” Alena smiles your way. “I want to know my visitor. What’s your name?”

She was only standing there, her hands behind him. But her presence was like a slap to your cheek.

“Don’t speak,” Jaehyun commanded as he looked at you. If you’d do as you were told, you would only irate Alena. None of you knew what would happen then.

“I’m Y/N,” you answered. Jaehyun shut his eyes.

“Y/N,” Alena repeated, as if your name was blood and she’s tasting every drop of it. “I know who killed your parents.”

Your forehead drew in a crease. Glancing at Jaehyun who had the same confusion etched through his face, you purse your lips. “What do you mean?” The gods only know how hard you tried to sound strong. Alena’s mention of your parents felt like centipedes crawling down your spine with their thousand legs.

“Come closer, and I’ll tell you.”

“Damn you, Alena,” Jaehyun hissed, “Stop this nonsense.”

Her laugh boomed against the wholeness of her backyard and against the silence. “Fascinating, my love. I’m utterly entertained.” She cocked her head towards you. “But I do know who killed her parents. All she has to do is to come closer, and her sleuthing would finally end.”

Tempting, it truly was. Because you know, deep in your heart, that you’d do anything to know who killed your parents. And if jumping into the claws of a Vampire Primus would give you the right answers, you would dive head first. But the promise of danger in her smile was a risk you didn’t know how to take.

“The madmen might listen, but we are not mad, Alena.” Jaehyun stood his ground. You would’ve held his hand and thanked him for his courage. But Jaehyun now stands between you and the possible key to your questions. Perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps the madmen are listening, and you are one of them.

You looked at the ground with clenched fists. “Do you really know who killed them?”

“Y/N!” Jaehyun spun around to face you with dilating pupils. Pain was evident in his eyes as you looked up to him. You could almost hear him begging you. “We’ll find another way. Don’t do this.”

Jaehyun knew: compared to the power Alena has, he was nothing. The defeat was swirling around you with its acrid taste.

“You are here. I am safe,” you whispered with a smile. You wanted to believe that love would protect you tonight.

When he perceived the certainty in your eyes, Jaehyun let go of you. He knows you need this more than anything. “I’m with you,” he said.

Alena’s boredom was loud as she picked on her nails. “Darling, walk faster,” she ordered.

You took a step towards her without a backward glance at Jaehyun.

With a malignant smile, Alena caressed your cheeks with her cold hands. “What beauty,” she pronounced in wonderment, then she snapped her head towards Jaehyun, “No wonder you’re in love with her.”

Your eyes widened as Alena pressed her lips to yours. She penetrated your mouth to taste the flesh inside, and all you could was whimper. She pulled away with a sneer. “Tell me, did he put his cock inside you?”

You choked on your own saliva and you’ve found it hard to answer. Is that why she kissed you? To taste Jaehyun with your mouth?

“No.”

The next thing you felt was Alena’s palm on your cheek. You gasped at the intensity of her slap.

“Liar,” she sneered the same time Jaehyun shouted your name. “Don’t fucking move, Jaehyun,” Alena warned as she grabbed a handful of your hair.

Jaehyun was on his edge. He had his soles buried to the ground. One movement and he would sprint towards Alena with his bared fangs. But he didn’t do it. For there was a dagger pressing on your side, straight right to your ribs. He knows that however swift he could be, Alena was still a vampire. She has the same fleetness as him. If not more.

You gulped down a cry. Everything will be alright— you forced yourself to believe.

“Now, I’ll ask again,” Alena whispered, “Did he put his cock inside you? Did you make him fuck you like a whore that you were?”

“N—”

“You underestimate my power, human. I could taste him in your mouth: the pleasure, your moans, the way he climaxed because of you.” She let out a peevish chuckle. “I know it all. Because we’ve fucked each other all around this mansion. Jaehyun fucked me right where you stand.” She pressed her lips behind your ear. “So, don’t lie to me.”

You gulped the shame and the fury all at the same time. “I’m not lying to you— ah!”

“Stop, Alena! Stop!” Jaehyun stepped forward. You cried out as Alena pushed the tip of the dagger to your ribs. Then Jaehyun stood still, his teeth bared in utter rage. “I will kill you.”

Her laughter pierced your ears, then she grabbed your hair forcefully, hurting your neck in the process. “1803 was the year I crawled out of my mother’s womb,” Alena began. “How many years have I been a vampire, Y/N?”

“Two hundred years!” you whimpered.

“I’m old, am I?” She chuckled. “But I know someone younger than—”

Bits of soil stuck to your cheek as you fell to the ground. It happened too fast— Jaehyun sprinting and pouncing Alena behind. You crawled and stood up on your feet, clutching the back of your head as it throbbed painfully.

The sound of muscles slapping to one another dominated the night, willing you to face around. Then you saw Jaehyun combatting Alena. Their teeth were bared— their pupils raging like lava. With a blow, Jaehyun staggered.

“Run!” he croaked before he toppled over the ground once more.

Where do you run? You have no idea. Your heart was beating too painfully inside your ribcage, and the pulsating of your wound from Alena’s dagger slowed you down.

You have to find the oak tree. All isn’t lost.

Once again, you tasted the bland soil when someone attacked you from the back. Doing her best to snap your spinal cord, Alena clutched a handful of your hair from behind. Again. You cried out in pain, but it didn’t last long. Jaehyun grabbed and tossed her to the ground before jumping on her. He had her dagger right in front of her chest, while she had her hand wrapped around Jaehyun’s throat.

You sat and crawled away from them. Whimpering and fighting the sore vibration of your bones.

“But I know someone who’s younger than me,” Alena managed to say. Jaehyun struggled to draw the dagger nearer, for Alena’s grip on his neck was viselike. “Why don’t you tell her when did you become a vampire, Jaehyun?” Her chests rumbled with the familiar laugh she echoed.

You tried to catch your breath. That… you didn’t surely know. When did Jaehyun become a vampire?

“Ask him,” Alena ordered.

You wanted to grab the nearest stone and throw it right to her face. But the question left a cumbersome force to your chest, pulling you under until you find it hard to breathe once more.

“R… run, Y/N,” Jaehyun stated through his suffering.

You stood up and ran. Towards where? You don’t exactly know. If Rhianon is still inside, now is the best time for her rescue. But before you could make it a meter away from the brawling vampires, Alena echoed something which drew you in a halt.

“Tell him when did your parents die!”

You whirled and saw Jaehyun clutching his stomach to the ground, with Alena’s foot on his side. Your eyes widened but before you could do anything, Alena picked up the dagger from his hand and sprinted towards you.

Alena was behind you when she whispered, “I promise, I’ll let you both go to live your love story. Just say the words.”

Jaehyun stood up. “Don’t listen to her.”

“I swear on the Athanar, and to whatever god there is, I’ll let you go in peace,” she said, you could almost drink the sincerity with it. “Say it.”

With parched lips, you said, “My parents died ten years ago.”

Jaehyun stilled, as if he was punched by a solid mitt.

Alena sneered behind you. “Ten years ago, I turned Jaehyun. It’s a coincidence, is it not?”

Your heart dropped. The rope of hope that seems to hold you had already snapped. If Alena would let go of your arm, you would surely collapse to the ground.

What a cruel joke. A tear slid down your cheek. All this time— the murderer was right in front of you.

“Did you kill my parents, Jaehyun?” you managed to cry out.

He was lost for words— lost for anything as he stared at you, flabbergasted beyond reckoning. “I… I didn’t—” Jaehyun’s eyes widened. “Y/N!”

His apoplectic snarl was the last thing you heard. Along with the sound of your flesh tearing as Alena drove her dagger behind you. You gasped and looked down at the protruded tip before froths of blood bubbled from your mouth. As you felt the life slowly leaving your lungs painfully, you knelt on the ground.

Alena’s voice was vacant as she said, “You love her. Now, mourn for her.” She disappeared, leaving the dagger into your body.

Before you fell face-first to the ground, Jaehyun caught your body in his arms. The world faded away as the life in your eyes died. Your irises were coated with unshed tears, staring up at the heavens lifelessly.

Vampires couldn’t cry. So Jaehyun held you with his arms, his mouth hanging open by grief. “No, no, no,” he chanted hopelessly, brushing away the strands of hair from your face, painting your cheek with your own blood from his fingertips. “Don’t do this to me, Y/N.” He shook your body while screaming your name.

But he was a devil. So the gods didn’t hear his prayers.

“Y/N!”

Jaehyun sat there, with your lifeless body. With the moon and the stars staring down at him with pity.

No one heard him— no gods had saved you. They didn’t allow you to have answers. They let you die without knowing who really killed your parents.

Jaehyun couldn’t tell himself. He was dazed when he crawled out of his grave. But one thing is for sure— he wouldn’t let you die in vain.

… and he wouldn’t let you die at all.

Jaehyun took your wrist. He bared his fangs, allowing vampire venom to coat the tips of his teeth.

The stars stared in horror, and the clouds grew heavy with grief. The rain fell.

With the moon as the witness— Jaehyun bit you.

#neowritingsnet #jaehyun scenario #jaehyun angst #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun x reader #jung jaehyun scenarios #jung jaehyun imagines #jung jaehyun angst #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 angst

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333dolans · 4 years

Text

Light Within The Darkness // G.D

Hey loves! This is my first attempt at writing anything for either of the twins so any constructive criticism is welcomed and very much appreciated. I love you!🤍

Summary: After a heated fight with Grayson leads to a cold night alone, an unEXpected and unwelcomed visitor arrives.

Warnings: Mentions of Abuse and Anxiety. ANGSTY with a lil fluff at the end.

“Are you actually taking the piss Y/N?!” Grayson growled, slamming the door to your small, but cozy apartment. You two had been leaving a small cafè in downtown LA when you had ran into an ‘old school friend’, or atleast that’s what you had told Grayson. He didn’t buy it at all of course, he had a talent of always seeing straight through you anytime you lied. He could read you like a book, he had your body language memorised like his favourite tame song and he knew this wasn’t simply an acquaintance from your early teenage years. When he tried to ask simple questions about him, you became very tense and he could see you had began grinding your jaw at the very mention of his existence and the encounter you had just had. you’d began cracking your fingers, a tell tale sign that you were rapidly becoming more and more on edge. He didn’t want to cause an argument from his tendency to always want to know what is going on, his need for control, so he let it slide. Well that was until you crossed paths with mystery man once again. “Two years with no interaction and we see each other twice within a half a hour period? It’s a sign from the universe Y/N, we should get back together haha!” The man joked. You smiled awkwardly, feeling the heat rising within Grayson. You couldn’t tell if it was due to the mans comment, or the fact that you had lied about this man being your most recent ex. It was probably a mixture, you thought to yourself. Grayson turned on his heel and was started off towards the Porsche just a few metres away. You rushed a quick farewell and dashed after your boyfriend.

“Gray can you just let me-” “Y/N. Don’t.” He interrupted. You didn’t dare speak another word until you made it back to your apartment. The car ride was a silent one, something you wasn’t used to in your entire relationship with Grayson. You two were always jamming out to a throwback playlist and singing your hearts out. When you arrived, He made his way across to where you were standing in the living room. “Gray, I’m sorry ok? I didn’t want to make things awkward for you. He’s my ex- boyfriend, it was uncomfortable and I just wanted to diffuse the situation as soon as I possibly could.” You tried to reason. “Don’t you think I was just as uncomfortable probably even more so when I found out he was your ex?! You should of just told me but instead you lied to me.” He argued back. “How could it possibly have been worse for you G? I have so much history with him and things didn’t end well between us. Why are you making this about you? You’re not even considering how I felt, it’s always about you isn’t it?” You whispered the last part, defeatedly. “If it’s ‘always about me’ then maybe I should leave, Wouldn’t want you to be stuck with someone so selfish!” He screamed. You could feel the tears building behind your eyes, he knew as well as everyone else in your life that if there was one thing you couldn’t take, it was someone shouting at you. It always sent your anxiety sky rocketing and left you spiralling. “Leave Gray. Now please.” You whispered, holding back the desperate urge to breakdown in front of him. “With pleasure, Bitch.” He spat before leaving your apartment the same way he entered. Those words, although simple ones, held so much more meaning to you when they fell from his lips, lingering in the air and consuming your mind. The tears instantly began to stream, letting out a choked sob. “If only you knew.” You thought out loud.

You were jolted awake by an increasingly louder banging on your door. You glance over at your clock, 2:39AM. Grayson. He had came to apologise for acting like such a dick. You slipped out of bed and wrapped your blanket around you tightly. The relentless torture your front door was under not once letting up. You peaked through the peep hole, you weren’t a complete idiot, you had to be sure it was Gray. But who else would turn up at your door at this time right? Crack. You felt your heart shatter and swore you could hear the broken pieces hit the hard floor of your hallway. There, stood your ex boyfriend, Riley. You could of sworn you were frozen to that very spot, but your brain took control and carried you off towards the bedroom, rapidly grabbing for your phone and gripping it tightly to your chest. You creeped back towards the door cautiously, not wanting to make too much noise. “Riley you need to leave. Now please.” You spoke politely, which was beyond what he deserved. “Y/N! Open the door please. I need you. I’m a mess without you. Seeing you today reminded me off that!” He pleaded. “You’ve survived 2 years, keep going. I have a boyfriend Riley. Please leave.” You responded, heart non stop pounding against your chest, taking your breath away with every thump. “Y/N! YOU STUPID BITCH! OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!” He growled through the door, repeatedly kicking at it now. “JUST LEAVE RILEY!!!!” You retreated into your bedroom, then into the bathroom and locked both doors. You violently sobbed into the blanket that had been wrapped around your body as you reached for your phone.

To Babe💘: Gray, please.

Read at 2:45am

3 missed calls from Babe💘

To Babe💘: Hello?

Read at 2:52am

You sobbed even more, realising that he was ignoring you at a time when you needed him the most. You don’t remember when, but you must have eventually passed out on the cold bathroom tiles. You didn’t have the energy to get up, so you sat up against the side of your bath. You reached for your phone, only to see not one single sign of contact from Grayson. You felt the all too familiar feeling rising in your chest and taking control of your breathing. Another panic attack. You hadn’t had one in months due to the calmness Grayson provided, he was your light within the darkness, but he wasn’t here to save you this time. You texted him once more before you fully broke down.

To Babe💘: Grayson please, I need you. Now.

You knew this would work. His full name over text was only ever used in an emergency. You shut your phone off to try and focus on your breathing rather than how shitty your boyfriend was being right now. You had completely forgotten about the text and 30 minutes later you heard the front door swing open. “Y/N!? Where are you?!” Seconds later he enters the bathroom and finds your small form, tear stained cheeks and violently shaking from your cold night alone. “No no no, baby I’m so so sorry. Y/N look at me yeah? Focus on my voice. Deep breaths for me.”

He tried to scoop you into his arms but you cowered away. In that moment he swore he could feel his heart shatter. He had become the man he’d promised you he’d never be. Grayson knew you had and still struggle with your mental health, although he didn’t know much about the causes of it all. He let his anger get the best of him once again and he hurt you in the process. “Angel, I cant express how sorry I am. I didn’t mean to snap at you and I certainly didn’t mean what I called you.”

There it was again. His words began to replay in your head for the 100th time. “With pleasure, Bitch.” “STOP! Please make it stop Gray. I don’t wanna be back there anymore, I can’t be back there.” You begged him, clinging to his shirt now. He cautiously began to rub his hands along your back, palms sore from the strength he used to grip the steering wheel on the way over to your apartment. “Back where love? Talk to me please, I want to help you.” The feeling of Grays hand on your body, knowing he was close to you, knowing you were safe now, your breathing slowly began to regulate. You finally lifted your head and looked up to meet his eyes. Teary and bloodshot, a mirror image of yourself. You could see, scrap that, you could feel that he was sharing your pain. He didn’t know why you was feeling it, but he could feel it all nonetheless. You took in a shakey breath as you began.

“Riley seriously, they’re a pair of shoes? I bought them as a treat for myself for getting promoted.” You tried to explain to him, annoyance growing every passing minute. You were always smart with your money, never splurging out on fancy items. You’d never really felt like you’d needed them. However, earlier this month you’d been called into your bosses office and offered a better paying position at your work, which you gladly accepted. You’d decided that you would finally buy the shoes you’d been eyeing up for months now but had never talked yourself into buying. They were $300 but you decided you deserved them, your boyfriend clearly didn’t feel the same way. “I don’t care Y/N, you cant just start spending our money so carelessly, especially not this close to when rent is due and for something so minor as a promotion.” He countered, words laced with resentment. You couldn’t help but let out a snort. “Our money? It wasn’t ‘our money’ when you went out and bought that watch.” You pointed to the, in all honesty, hideous watch that was strapped around his wrist with pride. “I spent my hard earned money on those shoes because I deserved them, I worked for them.” You spoke, calmly and with confidence. “I seriously don’t understand your problem, please explain? Like I know it may be hard for your fragile masculinity to accept that not only a woman but your own girlfriend earns more than you, but that doesn’t give your misogyny a free pass to belittle my achievements”. You knew the second you said that, you would come to regret it. “You want me to explain? With pleasure, Bitch.”

The tears were once again streaming down your face once you finally stopped to breath again. “It was abusive and toxic, I knew I had to leave him, I had to get out of there so I did. I never looked back after I left but I guess life has a way of not letting you forget your past, no matter how hard you try to.” You sighed, so tired from the nights previous events. You’d explained to Grayson about what had happened with Riley turning up at your door, you’re grateful he’d left before Gray got there otherwise you may of been spending your night bailing his ass out of prison right now instead of in his arms. You’d explained about your past with him and why things had ended. You knew Gray had many more questions but it was clear you were not ready to answer them right now and you were extremely thankful he left the topic alone. You quite frankly didn’t want to entertain your memories of Riley anymore and Grayson knew that. He planted a kiss on your forehead before scooping you up, “wanna watch a film and cuddle? You can choose the movie.” He wiggles his eyebrows and gave you his signature smirk. “Yes please, only if you bring me the ice cream though!” You giggled, letting the last 3 hours fade to the back of your mind.

You were out like a light after 30 minutes, head in Grayson’s lap as he carelessly traced shapes along your arms, watching your chest rise and fall and lips slightly parted. “I will never let this happen to you again, you have my word. I love you more than I love myself angel.” He spoke gently, watching in awe as your lips curled to form a faint smile. “Mine” he thought to himself, “All mine.”

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ordinary-funky-feline-type · 3 years

Text

hmmm sometimes when i think of the name of a ship in my head i refer to the whole dynamic and relationship, but it doesnt have to necessarily be romantic and both-sided. like when i think of usuk, im thinking of the whole of them, but most of it is just uk pining over america and other toxik and shitty (n very cool) dynamics. i cant see murica as completely loving of him, not explicitly (except maybe in some temporary situations). but when i step back and look at the whole of them then i can obviously see the love and tension and deepness and blahblahh, even if when im focusing on the day to day moments it may seem completely one-sided. on the iggy side of things, his relationship w murica is obviously the most intense n obsessively loving shit he's ever had but i wont get into that classic

tl;dr "a ship doesnt necessarily refer to a explicit/romantic/requited love, it can also refer to a complex and changing relationship that may not ever even get anywhere. Or even a one-sided romance"

now, i dont like fruk, because (and yes im contradicting my explanation above a bit) i dont like to focus on the love or the romantic/sexual/whatever part of their relationship. but i DO love their relationship, which contains a lot of things, some of them ARE sex and love. but, i dont know, in my head that part is not relevant to the whole concept of their dynamics and their bond as a whole.

mm thats why i usually try to avoid saying 'fruk' when i talk about my interpretation of those two charas, cus i dont want ppl to think i'm referring to the ship. i prefer to say eng & france n stuff like that. same with prus and hungary, yeah maybe they fucked, but in my head the important characteristic of their bond is for instance, their friendship and rivalry. the sex is just a tool to get to and highlight those important parts

'usuk' in my head is not us and uk, usuk is usuk, cus in their relationship the part where they feel romantic love and all that shit is v e r y important.. So much that i cant even imagine the character of iggy without him being in love with murica, to me thats just an intrinsic part of his character. So yeah the “ship” aspect of their relationship is quite the main point for me. like everything they do that has to do with the other is affected by this thing. also lil obvious side-note. sex and romance is not the only way to show and express love, its just the most known ones. And also we are talking about countries in the shape of humans, and they are absolutely not humans, so i can do whatever the fuck i want with them. iggy expresses his love for murica in ways that he himself doesnt even know or realise, all of that while he fucks the entirety of europe on the side. He may not ever lay a finger on him and with that he’s being 200% more genuine and vulnerable than any time he fucks spain or whoever. usuk FOR LIFE

basically: To me a ‘ship’ is not referring to the actual relationship but to the angle with which you approach it. An established ‘romantic’ relationship may not be a ship if its not relevant to you or your story, but a dude who’s in love with a celebrity that lives in another continent that he’s never seen may be a ship if thats what makes sense to what youre imagining. for instance i love biker x jacket even though they never interact. I just like to think of the potential of their personalities together. Not explicit but still… “romantic”? I dont know what words to use to explain those thoughts. But so like, france n iggz: explicit, not “romantic”. Usuk: “romantic” but not explicit? (jiji who am i kidding, maybe sometimes it does get explicit but whatever, thats the general idea)

I love to consume one-sided ships, but im still not comfortable enough to let myself do it? Perhaps in the future my usuk will be completely one-sided, who knows. I still got residual damage from exposure to mainstream ship dynamics as a kid Also i lied. Ijijij i do like fruk a bit, i do think that theres potential for some cute stuffz, specially when they are young. I think that they are super close, and there are million ways of showing that. I dislike fruk when its just fruk in a bubble and thats it. But i love it when its surrounded by the context of this whole hetaverse that lives in my brain (that has to do with me not being interested in other fan’s creations). No england ship ever gets to what usuk is for me, n dats awesom. I like to think that england just entirely took his own heart, pulled it out of his chest, and handed it over to america (along with his multiple other toxicities emoji of cowboy smiling). His heart has already found a place but that doesnt mean he cannot experience sum exciting stuffz with other countries!!! In fact he does, a lot, just like the rest of the charas!!! EVERY SHIP IN HETALIA IS CANON, go have fun!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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slythraco · 3 years

Note

Hiii, I was wondering if you could do a draco x reader where their parents are very close and they’ve been best friends and inseparable since they were born. And like their parents and anyone around them always teases them about when they’ll get together. And so I was hoping you could write something where it’s just kind of a development through their childhood years and their time at hogwarts of them going from friends to getting together. If you want to do time jumps in it as well that would be cool too! Thanks!!

Author's note: Finally a Draco request !! And a really good one ! It took me a little while to write it so excuse me for the wait but I really wanted it to be perfect for you so I hope you'll like it ! Also, for the sake of this imagine, the whole voldemort/second war doesn't happen for more fluff. Also, this is pure fluffy Draco because i don't think he would be mean or toxic to the reader knowing they grew up together ? Anyways have a good read !

Warnings: swears (?), allusion to sex, big dose of fluff

Words count: 8,8K (Yes you read it well)

Legend: - Y/L/N -> Your last name - M/N -> Your mother's name - F/N -> Your father's name

Masterlist

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Year 7 - 13rd October 1997

The Malfoys and the Y/L/N, a big love story. These two families have been friends for decades now. Two powerful families of pure bloods, with the same way of thinking. It was unavoidable.

So when the spouse Malfoy and Y/L/N got pregnant at almost the same time, it was immediately promesses of a beautiful friendship, if not more.

A year later, the two magnificent babies were born. Y/N Y/L/N being slightly more young then the little Draco, only from a few month. This is when the fantasise of the two families started. Narcissa and M/N couldn't help but imagining their beautiful kids married one day. But who could blame them ? Any best friends in the world imagined a perfect world where their children would be as close to each other as they were to each other in the past.

That's why almost 18 years later, M/N was still annoying her daughter about the Malfoy's son. "So...you're inviting Draco over this summer ?" she asked curiously. It doesn't surprise Y/N at this point, her family were always there to push her into Draco's arms. "Hmmmm...yes, but Blaise, Pansy will be there too !" She answered, totally lying, Draco was the only one to come but Y/N didn't want her mom to tease her even more and since her parents won't be here during his visit, they won't be there to verify her lies. "Oh, I hope your friends know how to keep their hand to themselves, especially under my roof."

"Mom !" Y/N shouted as her cheeks starts to blush. "That's disgusting !" She continued. "Oh come on darling, It's normal at your age ! Aren't Pansy and Blaise supposed to be together ?" Y/N's tilt her head slightly, as Y/N rolls her eyes under her mother's gaze. "Yes they are...and don't worry they can totally keep their hands for themselves." Y/N repeat her mom phrase with a little annoyed voice. "Speaking of keeping hand to yourself..." M/N starts as she looks at her daughter face in the mirror that was facing them two. "You would tell me if you..." She didn't have the time to finish her sentences that Y/N gets up from her chair. "Oh my god, stop, I'm leaving !"

"No, no, no, come back here, I haven't finished your hair dead young woman." Her mom said in an authoritative way by pointing at the chair facing the dressing table. "Okay, but can we don't talk about my sexual life ?" Y/N asks desperately. "So you did it !"

"No !" Another lie. M/N takes a deep breath as she sees her lovely daughter completely uncomfortable. She then reach her and takes her hands in hers. "I'm sorry...I'm just worried because you're growing into this beautiful woman, I remember when you could still fit into my arms." Y/N's face relaxes gently as she listens to her mother's words. "Come, let's finish those hair before I start to cry." M/N finished after crashing a loving kiss on Y/N's forehead before leaning her again to the chair she was sitting on a few minutes earlier.

M/N grabs the brush again and pass it trough YN's H/C hairs. "You have to be beautiful for your future in laws." YN sighs, getting her hair done is probably gonna feel like ages.

•••

Three distinctive knocks resonates in the mansion, the Malfoys were there. "Y/N, go open the door please !" Her father shouted from upstairs, Y/N obeyed and walks to the door that she quickly opens. Her eyes meets Lucius Malfoy's who smile gently to her. "Y/N !" He cheers. "Mister Malfoy..." She nervously bite her lip. As long as she knew Lucius, he always scared her. The Malfoy father makes his way into the Y/L/N's mansion before being greeted by F/N. "Aaaaah you arrived !" Her father cheered.

Y/N looks at her father discussing with Lucius but another voice brings her attention. "Y/N !" The teenager turns her head to the door again and catch Narcissa's eyes. The blacked haired woman hastens to take Y/N in her arms before pulling away to look at her. "You look beautiful !" Draco's mother cheers. "Thank you Narcissa !" She shyly responded. "Where's your mother ?" Narcissa tilt her head. "In the kitchen, as always." Y/N answered politely, as soon as Narcissa has her information she runs into the kitchen, probably to gossip with her best-friend like they loved to do.

Y/N turns to the door again and smiles when she sees Draco, still outside. "What are you waiting for exactly ? Catching a cold ?" She teased which made Draco coming out of his freeze and finally enter. Y/N close the door behind him while he looks around him like a lost puppy. Until his eyes meets Y/N again who was standing at his right. He discreetly puts his hand on her lower back, declaring a rush of shivers into Y/N's spine. He then leans to approach her ear and whisper a few words. "You look amazing love..."

Draco straightened right after saying those words as Y/N starts to violently blush. She was about to respond but her mother appears causing them to quickly put some distance between there bodies.

"Wow Draco ! You're really handsome !" Y/N's mother cheers when she sees the blond guy. It's Draco's turn to blush under the compliment of M/N. "Come on M/N, he's a Malfoy, of course he's handsome !" M/N's rolled as she hears Lucius's remark. "I'll never be used to your arrogance Lucius !"

The adults laugh all together while Draco and Y/N look in each other's eyes, a discreet smile on their face. "Alright everyone, we shouldn't lost another minute, let's go eat !" Y/N's mother cheers while she quickly walks towards the dining room.

The two teenagers stay in the corridor just to exchange a few words. Draco takes a deep breath as he hears their parents laugh at their own terrible snobby jokes. "It's gonna be a long night huh ?" He complains. Y/N giggle when she listen to him. "Long and painful !" She answers as she grabs his hand to pull him towards the next room. "Wait !" He whispers as he pulls her back to him to slide his arms around her waist, he then look behind her and make sure nobody sees them. "What are you doing ?" Y/N whispers at her turn, as a response he grabs her chin between his fingers and gently crash his lips on hers to kiss her chastely.

As soon as their lips are apart, Y/N looks behind her, in slight panic. "Are you crazy ! What if they see us !" She rumbles, making Draco chuckles. "Don't worry, they didn't see anything and sorry but it was stronger than me" He teasingly says as Y/N rolls her eyes. "You're gonna get us killed one day !" She says as she slowly pulls away. "Come on, let's join them before they get suspicions"

•••

"Oh my lord, do you remember when Draco and Y/N were playing in the garden when they were like 7 ?" Narcissa cheers as she remembers this memory of their kids. "Yes ! They were so cute together !"

Y/N frowns as she turn her head to look at Draco who seemed as confused as her.

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26th March 1988

"Mom..." Y/N complains as she touches gently her mother's arm to have her intention. "Yes sweetheart ?" M/N lean slightly to look at her daughter at her feet. "Draco is being mean to me again..." She pount while she explains herself. "Draco ! Come here son." Narcissa who was with them the whole time, screams to bring her son close to them. "Yes mother ?" He said with his little kid voice. "Apparently you've been mean to Y/N ?"

Draco blue eyes widen as he hears his mother. "It's not true !" the blond haired boy shouted. "Okay, what happened exactly ?" M/N asked, willing to resolve the problem. "He threw branches at me !" Y/N shouted. "No ! I didn't do it on purpose !" Draco quickly say to clear oneself. The two mother nods their head as they understand the situation. Narcissa puts gently her hand on her son's shoulders. "Draco my dear, I know you didn't meant to hurt Y/N but you have to apologise to her...One, to be polite and two, because she's friend and I'm sure you're not proud of yourself for hurting her so...I'll leave it up to you." The spouse Malfoy push in Draco's shoulder to push him to turn and face Y/N. "I-I'm sorry Y/N..."

The little girl smiles as she listens to her friend. "It's alright, I forgive you !" She tells him in her little voice. The two mothers smile to each other when they took each other hands and get back to the garden to play like nothing happened.

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Year 7 - 13rd October 1997

"Ooooh now I remember !" Y/N shouted before turning to Draco. "You totally did it on purpose tough !" Draco giggle a little bit as he puts his glass of whine back on the big table. "I don't know what you're talking about." He said, looking at her. "You actually threw that branche in my face Draco !" She almost screams as her eyes widen in the face of his bad faith. "I did that to protect myself !"

"Oh ! Why ?" She giggles. "You were always running after me, I was scared ! You were already evil back in the days." A shocked look appears on Y/N's face before she strongly hits Draco's arm. He directly puts his hand directly on the spot that his secret girlfriend had just hit and grimaces as he looks at her. "See, you're dangerous !" He shout under the amused looks of their parents. "Oh...i'm gonna Avada Kedrava your face you'll see if i'm dangerous !" She spits out of her mouth before they start laughing together. When they get calm again, Draco gently rubs his arm to cover the little pain he was feeling. "That really hurts" He complains, making Y/N giggle. "Oh it's killed meh, it's killed meh" she imitates him has she rubs her arm like he does. Draco lose his teasing smile when he sees her imitates him in his third year. A gaze battle begin between to two teenagers before Draco repeats the same gesture Y/N did to him and hit her in the arm. "Ouch !" She shout. "There you go, now you have a real reason to imitate me !"

"Okay okay lovebirds, stop fighting !" Draco and Y/N faces quickly turns to the origin of the voice, Narcissa. "How did you just called us ?"

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Year 1 - 1 September 1991

"Alright kids." Said F/N to capture the attention of Draco and Y/N before they enter the Hogwarts Express. "From now on, everything is going to change, you're gonna meet new people, make new friends, meet some ennemies maybe. But I want to ask you something before you leave, never forget each other, if you ever get into a fight or that you move away from one and other. I want you to be there for each other no matter what happen, be each other pillar. Nobody should have enough power to separate you two okay ?" Said F/N, pretty stressed by the situation, looks at his little daughter, 'they're growing too fast' he thought to himself.

"Y/N my sweetheart." F/N crouch down to put his hands on his daughter's shoulder and face her little innocent face. "I'm really proud of you okay ? I'm sure you're gonna become an incredible witch !" The father kiss the cheek of his daughter before getting up again.

A few meters away, Lucius was also exchanging his last words to her son. "I'm counting on you to behave well and not to sully our name." The father said dryly to the little Malfoy. "Don't disappoint me Draco." The little blond hair boy was looking at the floor as he mumbles his response. "Yes father."

"Good, I have to leave now, join Y/N before the train leaves without you" Draco nods his head before running to Y/N and her parents. "Ah Draco ! Ready to go to Hogwarts !" M/N asked the boy. "More than ready !" He said happily. "Awesome ! Hum...can I have a quick word with you son ?" Draco nods and M/N puts gently her hand on his back to trail him a little further from her daughter and husband.

"First of all, good luck for your first day at Hogwarts ! I'm sure you're gonna become a good wizard" M/N smile slightly to the blondie. "But, can I ask you a favour ?" She slightly tilts her head as Draco slowly nods his head as a response. "Could you, protect my lovely daughter for me there ? Make sure she's always okay...she's fragile, and I already know that you would do an amazing guardian for her."

"Of course Ms Y/L/N, I'll make Y/N's happiness, my priority !" M/N smiles softly at his response. "Can you promise me that ?" She asked. "I promise you !"

Promises, in such a young age...you would probably expect for it to be just words for a child. Little did she knew that at this exact moment, Draco would now do everything he can to protect Y/N.

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Year 7 - 13rd October 1997

"I can't believe you two are turning eighteen this year." Narcissa said in a whisper. "Oh don't talk to me about it Narcissa...I still remember Y/N's first day at Hogwarts !" M/N complains, nostalgic of the innocence of her daughter. "But...you weren't there ?" Y/N frowns. "No, but you're 7 pages long letter made me feel like I was !" Everyone around the table started laughing.

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Year 1 - 1st September 1991

"Look Y/N, it's Harry Potter !" Said Draco as he point to a little brown haired boy. "Harry Potter ? The boy who survived you-know-who ?" Draco nods to his friend before walk in front of her. "It's true then, what they saying on the train, Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts !" All the students around starts to whispers in excitement. "This is Grabb, Goyle and Y/L/N, and I'm Malfoy." The boy walks to confront Harry Potter. "Draco Malfoy."

•••

"Before you can take your seats, you must be sorted into your houses. They are Gryffondor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin." The two kids look at each other, a little smile on their faces when the professor pronounce the name of the last house before following her into the great hall.

"When I call your name, you will come forth, I shall place the sorting hat on your head, and you will be sorted into your houses." Professor McGonagall explains to the first years. After Hermione Granger has been called, it's Draco's turn to be sorted. "Slytherin !" resonates in the Great Hall before Draco joins his housemate after giving Y/N a proud smile.

"Y/N Y/L/N !" The professor calls as she looks at her piece of parchment. The little girl walks to the stool, she sits on it and the sorting hat rest now on her head. "Mmmmmh...I see...a lot of courage !" Y/N's body tense when she hears the character trait, knowing well what house it belonged to. "Not Gryffondor...please..." She whispers. "Not Gryffondor mmh...are you sure ? You could be great there ! And you'll definitely make good friends too." Y/N grimaces at what she's hearing, the last she wanted is to be in another house then Draco and her parents wouldn't accept it either. So do Draco, who was watching the whole scene from his seat. "Noooo...please." She whispers again. "Okay...it'll be...Slytherin !" Y/N feels a sense of relief all over her body as she rushes to get up to join the students with whom she will spend her next 7 years.

"God I was scared for a second ! I thought this thing was going to put you in Gryffondor !" Draco complains as Y/N sits right next to him. "We would've stayed friends anyway right ?" She asks curiously. "Maybe, not if you would've become friends with Potter there." He answers while looking at the boy who lived, making his friend giggle. "You're really not going to forgive him for rejecting you aren't you ?" She teases. "Never." He said harshly. Y/N rolls her eyes before putting her hand on Draco's forearm. "It's fine Draco, you don't need another friend when you have me !" The Malfoy child finally turns his head to look at her, she smiles gently at him. "Yes...you're right !"

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Year 7 - 13rd October 1997

"I almost got into Gryffondor that day !" Y/N said making everyone gasp in shook. "My daughter as a Gryffondor, what a nightmare !" F/N complains while Y/N giggle. "I'm sure you would've killed Dumbledore if it actually happened !" M/N tease her husband. "Totally !" The Y/L/N father said as a joke.

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Year 3 - 25th October 1993

"Intriguing isn't it ?" Professor Lupin asks as the boggart make the wardrobe move vigorously. "Would anyone like to venture a guess as to what's inside ?" Lupin asked. "That's a boggart, that is." Dean responded. "Very good, Mr Thomas."

"Now, can anyone tell me what a boggart looks like ?" The professor of defence against the dark arts asked to his students. "No one knows, boggarts are shapeshifters, they take the shape of whatever particular person fear the most. That's what makes them so-" The professor cuts Hermione before she finishes her sentences. "So terrifying, yes. Luckily, a very simple charm exists to repel a boggart. Let's practice it now."

The students jump a little bit as the wardrobe move and produces muffled sounds behind the professor. "Without wands, please. After me- Riddikulus !"

"Riddikulus" the students repeat with no passion. "Very good, a little louder and very clear, listen- Riddikulus !" The students repeat again after listening to the instructions of their professor. "It's this class that's ridiculous." Says Draco in his beard. Y/N giggles when she hears her friend. "Says the one in plaster because of a big chicken." She teases as Draco now looks at her with an angry face but don't say anything because she's right.

"Wonderful Neville, wonderful, incredible ! Okay, to the back Neville, everyone form a line !" And with that, the students start to move all over the classroom to form a line like the professor asked. "I want everyone to picture the thing they fear the very most and turn it into something funny ! Next, Ron !" The redhead walks toward the boggart, a little hesitant.

After a few pupils, it was Y/N's turn. "Come on Y/L/N ! It's your turn !" Y/N takes a deep breath before walking toward to Boggart, this one suddenly change into what she fears the most, Lucius Malfoy. All Y/N's body tenses when she meets his blue accusing eyes, as well as Draco who is shocked to see Y/N fear his own father. The boggart slowly walks toward the young girl, leaving a little witch trembling under his gaze. "Y/L/N, Riddikulus remember ?" The professor tries to comfort her but she's petrified, how could she even have the courage to raise her wand towards him. She was petrified. The boggart under Lucius form let an slight smile on his face as he gets his wand out of his cane he quickly direct it towards Y/N. "Avada..." He starts to say but Lupin stop him before he gets to chance to finish his spell.

The boggart his quickly sent agin to the wardrobe as the professor turns to Y/N, still trembling because of what she just saw. "Y/L/N...are you okay ?" Lupin asks worried, he puts an hand on her shoulder but she jumps and runs to get out of the classroom as the other students look at the scene, murmuring about what just happened. Except for one pupil, Draco. He doesn't loose a second and start to follow her in the corridors.

"Y/N !" He shout from behind her. "Y/N stop !" He shouted again, to make her stop but she didn't want to face Draco after what he saw. What if he was mad that she fears his dad ? Draco runs a little a bit faster to finally grip her wrist, making her stop suddenly. "Are you okay ?" Was the first thing he asked her, he wasn't mad at all, far from that, he was worried for her. She saw it in his eyes. "No...I didn't want you to know that..." Draco lower his hand who was still on her wrist to grab her hand. "What ? That you're scared of my dad ?" Y/N simply nods as she looks at the floor. "It's a surprise, i'm not gonna lie...but I understand, honestly, he even scares his own son, so..." Draco reveals, Y/N raise her head to look in his blue eyes, his eyes that reminded her of his dad but this thought his quickly brushed away, Draco wasn't his dad, the complete opposite. "But, I'll never let him touch one of your hair Y/N. I'll always protect you even if it means fighting my dad."

The young girl smiles at what she hears. "It's you and me against the rest of the world." She whispers. "It's us, against the rest of the world." Draco whispers at his turn before Y/N passes her arms around him to take him along a cuddle. The blondie takes a few seconds to realise what is going on before responding to her embrace.

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Year 7 - 13rd October 1997

"I remember the first boyfriend of M/N...he was so obsessed with her but she only dated him to make F/N jealous ! It was hilarious." Narcissa sheered as she remembers her memories in Hogwarts with her best-friend. "Oh lord...don't talk to me about it, and the worst is that F/N took ages to see it !" M/N shouted in desperation. "Oh come on ! How was I supposed to know ? I really thought you liked him !" F/N states, making everyone around the table to laugh gently. "Talking about first love..." M/N leans a little bit to look at the two teenagers sitting next to each other. "You guys must have been trough it aren't you ?" The kids Y/L/N and Malfoy gasp at this question, little did their parents know. They quickly look at each other, desperate to find a lie to tell them.

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Year 4 - 10 December 1994

"Do you know with who you're going to the Yule Ball ?" Pansy asked her friend as she close the window of their bedroom to keep the cold air from coming into the room. "Umm...no, not yet." Y/N responded quietly, looking at her potion book. "I mean...Adrian asked me, but i told him that I'll think about about it." She quickly raise her shoulders, Adrian Pucey wasn't really her first choice but it was better than going alone.

"You want to go with Malfoy." Pansy said, knowing her friend. "Yes...but I should give up this idea" Y/N complained sadly. "Why would you ?" Parkinson asked as she sits on the end of the other witch's bed. "you didn't see how Astoria was bragging that she was going to ask him to go with her ?" Pansy nods, yes, she did heard Astoria Greengrass this afternoon. "Y/N...can I be honest with you ?" The brown haired girl grimaces a little bit. "Yes of course Pansy !"

"Well...don't get me wrong but you can't really complain... You've been a long way away since the beginning of the year... He's gotten closer to Astoria and you to Adrian so..." Y/N gently nods, her friend was right. Her and Draco weren't as close as before but she still needed him in her life. And he still needed her in his. But Y/N didn't want to be a selfish girl so she quickly got up of her bed. "What are you doing ?" Her friend asked, a bit confused. "I send a owl to Adrian." Y/N run to her desk, takes a sheet of paper and her quill to write just one sentence. 'I'll go with you'. "Are you sure you're not going to regret this ?" Pansy asked worryingly. Y/N gets up again and gives to her owl who fly to Adrian's room.

"No, i'm sure Draco and Astoria will be really happy together !" Y/N shouted, any human being would've say she said this out of jealousy, and they would be right. But Y/N would probably have disputed, she herself didn't know what was happening to her. Draco was her friend, nothing more but why did it scare her so much to see him going to this stupid bal with this stupid girl ?

Year 4 - 11st December 1994

The group of friends were walking in the corridor, the only ones missing were Draco and Y/N until the Slytherin Prince appeared out of nowhere. "Draco ! Where were you ?" Blaise asked, an arm around Pansy's neck. "I had to do something, where's Y/N ?" The blondie asks as he looks around since she wasn't with the group. "Right behind you." Draco turn on his feet and meet Y/N's gaze. "You wanted to see me ?" She asks calmly. "Yes !" He gently places an arm in hers to bring her a little bit further from their friends. "Umm..I was wondering, if you would like to come to the Yule ball with me ?" The blondie asks shyly. Y/N's eyes widen, suddenly she felt incredibly guilty. "W-what ? Astoria didn't asked you ?"

Draco frowns at her question. "She did...but I refused." Y/N face collapse at what she hears, she bites her lip to hide how nervous she was to tell him she already was going with another guy. "Oh Draco...i'm so sorry..." The Slytherin Prince feels his heart racing, this debut of answer didn't bode well. "What ?" He asks even if he's scared of the answer. "I-i already said yes to Adrian..." It's his turn to feel his face collapse as he hears her. "But I can cancel if you want..." Y/N says to try to save herself. Draco shakes his head as he takes a few step back away from her. "No, go with him. It's not like you cared about spending much time with me anyway." He spats before running as far as possible from her.

Y/N stay still, looking at her friends disappear in the next hallway. What he said truly broke her heart, 'this is how he feel ?' She thought, it was true, since the beginning of the year Draco and her weren't as close as before. Ever since she started spending some time with Adrian. But that don't change how much she wanted to go to the bal with her childhood friend.

Year 4 - 25th December 1994

"Wow Y/N ! You-you look splendid !" Adrian shouted when Y/N finally reach the last stair. Indeed, she was by far one of the most beautiful witches tonight in her magnificent dress. All eyes were on her, especially Draco's ones. With Astoria at his arm, but all he could see is his friend standing there with another guy. The night is going to be long for him.

As a matter of fact, a few hours later, Draco was sitting at a table with his partner installed right besides him. "Are you going to ask me to dance ?" She asks somewhat annoyed. "No." Draco harshly respond as he play with a towel, making it slide between his fingers without ever looking at Astoria who sighs angrily and gets up to leave the party. Leaving Draco all alone like it wasn't bad enough.

He then raise his head, and his gaze meets Y/N, dancing and laughing with Adrian Pucey. A wave of anger takes hold of his body, but he stays here, without moving, not wanting to make a scandal for once in his life.

After a few minutes, a voice gets him out of his thoughts. "Wanna dance ?" Draco raises his head to the voice he already knows very well and his eyes meets Y/N's, the young girl was standing in front of him, her hand raise toward him. "No thanks..." He lied. Y/N sighs and rolls her eyes. "Did I mention you had a choice ?" She raise one of her eyebrows before grabbing Draco's hand and leaning him to the dance floor. As soon as they reach it, the rock music turn into a slow. "Of course..." Draco complains, but Y/N grabs quickly his hands to provide him from escaping and place one on her waist and she keeps the other one on her free hand, the other one resting in his neck.

Draco stays still for a second, not really realising how close they were. But they finally start to move they body together in the rhythm of the music. The two friends were looking deeply in each other eyes and for a second nothing around them seems to matter anymore. It's was just the both of them. "So...you and Adrian...are you a thing ?" Draco asked dangerously. Y/N nods, breaking Draco's heart. "Yes...actually he asked me a few hours ago." Draco nods before looking at the floor, he couldn't look at her anymore.

That's when Y/N stoppes their dance to grab Draco's face between her little hands. Forcing him to look her in the eye "Draco, listen to me before you start panicking" that's totally what was happening in his mind, panicking of loosing her. "You're not going to lose me, I know we haven't talked these last few weeks but that made me realise that I need you in my life Dray...You will always come before anyone else" Draco can't help but smile a little bit, he was a little more reassured now. "I can't lose you Draco." She said in a whisper. "You're not going to lose me Y/N, it's us against the world remember ?" A beautiful smile appears on both of their faces. "Exactly ! Us against the world." She murmurs before gluing her body against his. Draco quickly accept her embrace and hold her tightly against him, putting a gentle kiss on her scalp before putting his chin on it. "I missed you Draco." She whispers, Draco was about to say something but he got cut up by someone.

"Y/N..." The witch jumps when she recognises her boyfriend's voice. She quickly pulls out of Draco's arms and faces Adrian. The older Slytherin looks angrily at Draco as he grabs possessively Y/N's hips. Then he finally plant his gaze to his girlfriend's. "You're coming ? Felix is doing an after in his dorm" Y/N nods as a response before Adrian leans to whisper something in her ear. "I hope I'll have the chance to remove that dress tonight." Y/N suddenly pulls away to look into his eyes, visibly uncomfortable by what he just said.

Draco didn't know what Adrian said but he clearly saw that it disturbed Y/N, which made him immediately angry. "Okay..." She shyly said to Adrian. "Good, let's go" He said, grabbing her hand and leaning her toward the outside of the great hall. This is at this exact moment that Draco understood. When Y/N left with her new boyfriend, he knew that he had to do every he can to have her back, and as more than just a friend. he finally became aware of his feelings for her.

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Year 7 - 13rd October 1997

"Adrian Pucey...I never liked this guy." Said Y/N's father. "Me too..." Draco said in his beard only for Y/N to hear it. "What did you two broke up again ?" M/N asked curiously.

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Year 5-6 - 12nd August 1996

Y/N was reading her romantic novel with Adrian in her bedroom. Her back glued to her boyfriend's, comfortably installed in her bed but Adrian had other plans. He made it understand to Y/N by sliding his hand on her thigh, gently rubbing it with the tip of his fingers before carefully making his way to her inner thigh as he starts putting wet kisses on her neck. "Adrian..." She whispered, annoyed. "I want you Y/N..." He murmurs hungrily in her ear. "Stop !" She shouted bad she threw the book on the bed and quickly gets out of his arms.

"What is wrong with you ?" He asks, staying still on the bed. "I-I'm not ready." Adrian sighs as he gets up too. "Oh come on ! You haven't been ready for a year and a half now." Adrian accuses, Y/N crosses her arms on her chest and looks away, out of shame. It wasn't the first time her and Adrian were arguing about that subject. "Y/N...can I ask you something ?" Y/N put finally her gaze on him, he takes it as a 'yes'. "Is there something between you and Draco ?" Y/N frowns at his question. "What ? Why do you put him in this conversation ?" She asked back. "It would explain why you don't want to have sex with me."

Y/N let a shocked face appears. "Are you accusing me of cheating on you..." she marks a little pause. "With my best-friend ? Are you crazy ?" Adrian rolls his eyes. "I'm not crazy Y/N ! You think I don't see the way you look at each other ? You can't make me believe there's nothing."

"But there's really nothing Adrian." Pucey takes a step further towards her, making her jumps slightly. "Stop lying !" He shouts loudly. "Y/N you don't look at me the way you do for him" Y/N pass nervously her hand in her hair, she didn't know what to say to his accusation. "Do you love me ?" Her boyfriend asked. "Yes ! Of course I do Adrian" She lied, not wanting to aggravate her case. She did like spending time with him, but something always felt off, in the back of her head she knew their relationship would come to an end sooner or later. She wasn't in love with him, it's was crystal clear for her. "I don't believe you..." Adrian said sadly. "How can I prove it to you then ?"

"Stop talking to Draco, erase him from your life." Y/N eyes widen, it was the point of no return, with this asks Adrian completely close his possibilities to keep Y/N in his life. 'You will always come before anyone else' was the first thing that came to her mind, that night when she told Draco that she would never leave him. "No. I'm not going to do that." She said hangrily. "Then that's it, you want us to be done ?" He shouted. "Yes. We're done Adrian, leave, I don't want to see you anymore." Adrian frowns as he hears her. "Are you serious ?"

"Yes, I've never been this serious in my life !" Adrian breath quicken, trying to keep himself from punching something. "So that's it you throw a relationship of a year and a half in the garbage ?" Y/N turns to don't confront his angry gaze. "Yes...excuse me but between a relationship of a year and a half and my friend that i grew up with, the choice is quickly made !" She said almost in a whisper, knowing well that it wouldn't make Adrian less angry. This one quickly walks towards her and obliged her to face him by gripping her shoulders harshly, making gasp in pain. She wouldn't be surprise of discovering bruises the next morning. "So I was right, you did fuck with him behind my back huh ?" His question make Y/N see red and the first thing she makes is suddenly crashing the palm of her hand on his cheek. His head turns at the violent slap he just received. "Get the fuck out of my house."

Adrian stays still for a second, processing what just happened but Y/N's voice bring him back to reality again. "Now !" She screamed. Adrian finally meet his girlfriend eyes, his heart broke when he realise she's crying, but he don't say anything and pick up his stuff before leaving in silence.

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Year 7 - 13rd October 1997

"Idiot." Her father simply said. "I'm glad you made the right choice sweetheart." Narcissa gently said to the young witch. As Y/N turns her head to look at Draco who smiles at her. He was glad too of course. His heart tightens for a moment, thinking of were he would be right now if she chose the second option, if she would've actually left him. It would've broken him for sure.

"Yes, we all know Draco is much better for her than this stupid Pucey." The father Y/L/N said in his beard. "Definitely ! I don't know what my daughter is waiting for !" Y/N giggles at her mom's remark. 'Only if she knew' she thought to herself. "You'll never leave us alone aren't you ?" She asked, falsely annoyed. "Not until you're married like Narcissa and I planned it !" All the families laugh together. Until Y/N meets Draco's gaze, it didn't sound like a bad idea after all.

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Year 5-6 - 12nd August 1996

"Y/N...are you okay ?" M/N asks to her daughter worryingly. "I just saw Adrian leaving, what happened." Y/N was sitting at her desk, writing a note before she gets up and give it to her owl, completely ignoring her mother. "To who are you sending your owl ?" M/N asked a bit confused. "Draco." Y/N's mother frowns slightly. "Mom...can I go to the Malfoy's tonight ? I really need to see Draco..." The worried mother nods in response. "Sure sweetheart !"

Knowing she won't get more informations, M/N simply steps back until she's on the doorstep while Y/N prepare a little bag to prepare the night. "Hey...you're going there by your broomstick ?" Y/N turns on her feet to face her. "Yes !" Her mother nods. "Okay, be careful on the road alright ?" Y/N chuckles slightly. "Mom...you know it only takes me like...a minute to get there right ?" She slowly walks towards her. "Yes, I know, but...I don't know, it's dark outside and you seem pretty upset so..." Y/N tilt her head and smile sadly as she sees how worried her mother looks. "Mom I'm fine don't worry !"

Her mother quickly nods before putting a gentle kiss on her daughter's forehead. "Okay, now fly to Draco before I change my mind !" Y/N giggles at what she hears as she goes back to prepare her bag. "On my way !"

•••

Y/N gently knocks on the big door of the Malfoy manor, she just have to wait a few seconds before they opens on a worried Draco. "Hey, I received your owl, what happ-" Y/N cuts him by jumping into his arms, letting salty tears sliding down her cheeks.

"Of course Ms Y/L/N, I'll make Y/N's happiness, my priority !" M/N smiles softly at his response. "Can you promise me that ?" She asked. "I promise you !"

Draco jumps as he remembers that promise he made to her mother 6 years ago. He never meant this promise more than at this exact moment, when Y/N is crying in his arms. 'I'll make Y/N's happiness, my priority' is the sentence that kept coming back in his head. "Come here Y/N..." he grabs her hand and pulls her towards a more private room. They get up the giant stairs to reach Draco's bedroom where they'll be sure to not be interrupted by his parents.

He slowly close the door behind her while she make her way into his bed, she lays her back against the headboard and presses her knees against her chest. Draco grimaces when she sees her, he hated seeing her this sad, she was so much more beautiful when she was smiling and even more when he was the reason for her to smile.

He joins the bed and sits besides her, he puts his hand on her right knee to comfort her. "I broke up with him." She reveals, without looking at him, she just bites her lips in nervousness. Draco's eyes widen, he takes all his energy to not scream in happiness. "Why ?" He simply asked. "He-he accused me of cheating." She marks a pause, closing her eyes to help a few tears to roll down her cheeks. "With you." She finished. "Wait...what ?" He nervous giggle comes out of his mouth. "He said there's is something different in the way we look at each other..." Draco's gaze was resting on her friend's face, of course, he could hide his feelings by his action but his eyes said it all. His heart skips a bit when she turns her heads to look directly in his blue eyes, searching for that thing Adrian was talking about.

And she saw it. "He's right." She simply continued, Draco tilts his head without stopping to look at her magnificent eyes. "What do you mean ?" The blondie asked, confused. "I-something always felt off in this relationship, something was missing." She starts as she slightly turns her body towards him, she bites her lips as one of her hand rests now on one of his cheeks. "And that thing was you, it always have been you...as much as I hate when our parents tease us about it but they're right too ! I love you Draco."

Draco doesn't need more words to make the first move, his hand who was already on her body, quickly pass from her knee to her face that he pull towards his to crash his lips on hers. The kiss was passionate and full of both of their love. Draco's other hand slips on her waist to make her climb on his lap. Their lips move together like it's was their last dance together even though it was the first of a long series. After a while, they finally pulls apart, but stay as close as possible by resting their forehead against each other. "If you knew for how much time a wanted to do this Y/N..." Draco whispered.

"I'm sorry for not realising earlier..." Draco smiles as he finally opens his eyes to look at her. "It's okay...but now we have to stop losing time. Fuck Y/N...I want to stop presenting you as my friend, I want you to be so much more." Y/N giggles at what he says before putting her hand on his who was still resting on her still wet cheek. "Me too Draco...me too." She whispers as she leans to quickly kiss his soft lips again. "We should probably go to sleep, it's late." Draco whispered against Y/N's lips as he gently rubs her cheek with his thumb.

"Yes, we should." Y/N says before getting up of the bed. "Where are you going ?" Draco asked, confused about what she does. "I-I'm going to the guest room ?" Draco starts laughing, I front of a confused Y/N, it made sense to her, ever since she was a child when she was sleeping in the Malfoy's manor she would always sleep in another room. "Come back here." Draco said as he lays on his bed and point his chest, the witch blushes when she gets back and puts her head comfortably on his chest, she could hear his heartbeat through it, which was really relaxing to her. "Are you sure this is a good idea ? What if your parents comes in and sees us like that ?"

"First of all, they are not going to catch us, and two, even if they do, they will be happy for us ! They've been trying to put us together for the past 17 years Y/N." Y/N nods after raising her head to look at his beautiful face. "Talking about it, don't you think we should keep it to ourselves ?" She grimaces, scared of hurting him or making him mad. "At least, until we really know if it works between us, not that I don't want this to work but...it's just that they would be so disappointed if it doesn't..." She bites her lips nervously while Draco brush a stray of her hair between her ear. "Okay, i understand, don't worry. Actually it'll be better, we both know they would get super excited and probably putting pressure on us before it even starts. And I really want us to work." He calmly respond, making Y/N smiles in relief that he understood. "It's us against the rest of the world..." She whispered. "It's us against the rest of the world." He repeated before grabbing her chin between his fingers to kiss her lips one last time.

He was already addicted to the feeling and the taste of them. He was ready to kiss them for the rest of his life. "I love you too by the way." He whispered against them, making Y/N smiles.

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Year 7 - 13rd October 1997

It didn't sound like a bad idea after all. Y/N looked in Draco's eyes. They both understood each other. It was the right time, after all, she was sure of being truly in love with the Malfoy son. And even more she could see her future with him, she didn't need more time to know if it worked between them. So what could stop them ?

"Talking about me and Draco..." Y/N started, making all the adults stop laughing and look at her. The young witch takes a deep breath before looking at Draco who gave her a supportive smile. "We're not friends anymore." She continued, Draco helped her by putting his hand over hers on the table. Making everyone gasp in the room. "I knew it !" Narcissa cheers happily, making the teenagers giggle. "So...you two are together ?" M/N asked, still In shook. "Yes mom" Y/N responded as she let a giant smile appeared on her face. "Bloody hell ! I don't think I can express how much I'm happy right now !" M/N says as she tries to keep her tears to herself.

"Alright, this is the moment I act like a protective father isn't it ?" The father Y/L/N starts before clearing his throat and take an authoritarian air. "So, Draco, you know I love you like my own son right ? But since you're now with my little daughter that means I might have to kick you ass if i ever learn you hurt her. Don't take it wrong Lucius, but I'll have to do it !"

"Don't worry I'll be the first one to help you !" The blond patriarch said to his friend, making everyone giggle except for Draco and Y/N. "Awesome, so you've annoyed us for the past 18 years for us to get together and now you're going to make him run away ?" Y/N complains. Her father was about to say something but Draco is quicker than him. "Don't worry, I don't plan on going anywhere." He says as his hand grabs hers before bringing it to his lips to gently kiss it. All of that under the gazes of everyone, making the adults and his girlfriend shivers.

•••

Later that night, Y/N was clearing the table when she felt two arms surrounding her waist. "You know you have house elves to do that right ?" Draco said in the back of her ear. "I'm sure won't mind a little help" She says as she takes a plate in her hands. "Put that back on the table, right now." The blondie said authoritatively. Y/N can't help but bite her lip, finding it overly sexy. "Why would I do that ?" She asks as she stays still. "Because I really want a hug from my lovely girlfriend" whisper in her ear, knowing damn well the effect he has on her. Y/N sigh as she puts the plate in the table under the satisfied gaze of her boyfriend. "You're so needy Draco..."

"Not my fault, I've been sitting next to you for a whole night without being able to touch you, it was torture Y/N !" Y/N laugh as she finally turns to face him, her arms slide around his neck while he squeezes her a little tighter against him "Needy and dramatic, it keeps getting better !" She teases. Draco rolls his eyes before leaning to approach her ear. "We'll see who's the most needy when we'll be in the sheets tonight darling." He whispers before putting a wet and hungry kiss on her neck. Y/N bites her lips as she feels her heart racing suddenly, making her breath a little bit faster.

The Slytherin Prince pulls away just enough to be able to look at her face, and a devilish smile appears on his when he sees how she reacted. Until his gaze meets their parents's though they were discreet behind the glass of a fire. "They're looking at us." He said in a giggle. "Oh lord..." Y/N complains as she puts her forehead on Draco's chest. "I'm sure they're already planning on our marriage." She said in her beard. "I wouldn't mind it." Draco responded, making Y/N her head in a quarter of second. Draco jumps at her sudden movement. "You-did you just said you wouldn't mind marry me ?"

Draco raises his shoulders, not realising what he just said. "Yes of course" he then gently takes Y/N faces between his large hands, her still in shock. "Listen Y/N...I love you, more than anything else so...yes, maybe one day, I might ask you to marry me." Y/N looks into his magnetic gaze as she smiles like a child. "Draco...I love you so much." She shout before crashing her lips against his.

•••

"You're tired ?" Draco asked softly to Y/N who was clearly fighting to not fall asleep on Draco's shoulder. The young couple were resting in the family living-room while the adults were still discussing in the kitchen and drinking one of there expensive alcohol. "Yes..." she said in a whisper. Draco puts a little kiss on her scalp before getting up. "Let's go to sleep then !" He said as he pulls his hand towards her. Y/N smiles as she grabs it and let him pull her strongly to help her getting up too.

The two walks towards the witch bedroom but her mother's voice stop them. "Where are you going kids ?" M/N asked curiously. "ummm we're going to sleep." Y/N responded to her mom. Her mother slightly gasp and blinks nervously. "Oh, okay...um...I'll ask the house elves to make your bed in the guest room Draco !" M/N nods while Y/N hesitate to tell her or not about this detail. "No need mom, see...Draco and me have been sleeping together for the past year...on we're not really looking forward to change that habit ?" Y/N grimaces the whole time, scared of her mom's reaction while Draco scratch the back of his head, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. "Oh...okay." M/N simply said, keeping herself from asking more questions.

"Alright...good night mom !" Y/N cheers as she grabs Draco's hand. "Good night Ms Y/L/N !" The blondie said politely. "Kids wait !" The mother shouted, making Y/N sighs, of course it couldn't be that easy. "I'm sorry but I have to ask, do you two uses protection ?" It's too much to handle for Y/N, she gasps at her mother's questions. "Oh my god mom ! I'm not having this conversation with you right now !" She shouted before quickly pulling Draco into her bedroom. "Good night !" She screamed from her doorstep as she pushes Draco inside. She then quickly close the door while she nervously passes her hand trough her hair.

She turns on a Draco dying of laughter. "It's not funny !" She shouted as she crosses her arms on her chest. "Yes it is !" She rolls her eyes before jumping in her bed. "Stop laughing and come to bed with me." Draco obeyed after removing his black suit, his arms sliding around her half asleep body. "Good-night my love." He whispered. "Good night Dray." She said in a murmur before falling asleep in the arms of the boy she truly loves.

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