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queenshelby · 3 years

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My Friend’s Father (Part Ten)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Age Gap, Smut, Domestic Violence, Angst

Words: 2,300

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After your father stormed out you grabbed your stuff from the table and walked to your room. You were still shocked and somewhat perplexed about what happened and how he reacted and, whilst he had always had problems with his temper, this was more than you could handle.

You weren’t sure what to do but, in the middle of mid semester exams, you couldn’t cope with the stress and anger and started crying again while you walked around your room like a headless chicken.

Just as you did, your phone rang and when you saw that it was Denise who was calling, you picked up the phone.

Denise had just landed in Manchester and had realised that she had forgotten to call you following your exam yesterday. After she apologised, she asked what was wrong as it was obvious to her that you had been crying and, of course, you told her about the incident with your father.

She felt terrible for you and began to worry but, being you, you told her not to worry. You had it covered. You’ve been looking after yourself for a while after what your sister endured and, as she knew, you were working towards moving out which, being a student with only twenty hours of work and expenses, wasn’t exactly easy.

Nonetheless, Denise told you to keep her posted and let her know if she can help and, whilst she had offered to lend you money before, you never accepted and you knew that this wouldn’t change now.

***

Later that day, just when you thought matters had calmed down, your father had yet another one of his moods and suggested that you come to church with him the following day. He wanted you to join the local youth group but, since you didn’t believe yourself, you had no interest in it.

‘I am working and I am studying full time. I don’t have time dad’ you explained to him and, whilst you were happy to volunteer at the local church on occasion and participate in their fundraising events, the bible group he was referring to didn’t appeal you.

‘Obviously you have time for other things, things you should be ashamed off Y/N’ he said with a raised voice and, when your phone rang, you couldn’t help but walk away from the conversation with your father who, clearly, had built up his anger again and the last thing you needed was a matching bruise across your other cheek.

***

You went into your room quickly and picked up the phone.

‘Hey’ you said in a somewhat more happy voice when you realised that it was Cillian who was calling you.

‘Are you alright Y/N?’ he asked almost immediately with great concern in his voice before telling you that Denise had told him about the incident with your father.

‘I am fine Cillian. It’s nothing, just a bruise’ you explained, brushing it over.

‘Y/N, this is not nothing. He can’t just fucking hit you’ Cillian said and you could hear the anger in his voice.

‘Cillian, I am fine. You need to calm down please’ you said as you could hear the rage in his voice.

‘Fuck’ Cillian growled before taking in a deep breath. ‘Why didn’t you call me?’ he then asked worryingly and you knew that you probably should have made contact with him before you spoke to Denise about it.

‘You were filming and I didn’t want you to worry’ you explained.

‘This is not how this works Y/N, you can call me any time, alright? And, if something like this happens again, call my assistant if I am on set. I worry, alright...’ Cillian said in a calm and reassuring voice and, just as he did, you began to break out in tears yet again.

‘Y/N, listen please…you need to pack your stuff and get out of there before this happens again’ he then said in an equally calm voice after he comforted you the best he could.

‘Cillian, I can’t just pack up and leave’ you said.

‘Yes, you can. I told you, you can go to my place’ Cillian suggested.

‘I am not going to do that. I can look after myself Cillian and you really don’t need to worry. I am a grown woman and just because you are older than me doesn’t mean that I need you to look after me. It’s like Denise offering to lend me money. I can’t accept that and I won’t’ you said, still somewhat teary.

‘I know you are independent but that doesn’t mean that you can’t accept help in a situation like this and your friends offering you money is a little different to me offering you a place to stay for now, don’t you think?’ Cillian said, still calm but a little bit more demanding.

‘Not really’ you said, really not wanting to take his help as you felt that you would appear weak and dependant on him.

‘Fuck, you are stubborn, you know that?’ Cillian then huffed out, his voice filled with concern rather than anger.

‘Please, for my sake, so that I can sleep at night, go and stay at my apartment. I am worried about you and I know that this isn’t the first time he did that’ Cillian then said and you had no idea what he was talking about.

‘What do you mean it’s not the first time?’ you asked.

‘It doesn’t matter, just please…you are in the middle of exams and I am worried and don’t want you to get hurt…please’ Cillian pleaded with you.

‘If you don’t get out of there, I will get onto the next plane and pick you up myself and, God forbid, your father is in my way when I do’ Cillian said as anger was building in his voice again.

When Cillian finished what he was saying, you took in a deep breath and chuckled.

‘What?’ Cillian asked in response.

‘Nothing. I just like how protective you are over me. I am not used to someone caring’ you admitted, causing Cillian to chuckle himself.

‘I like you Y/N, so of course I care’ Cillian said.

‘Thank you Cillian’ you said before accepting his offer reluctantly. ‘Just text me where and when I can pick up the key to your apartment’ you then said quietly.

‘I will text you, now go pack your stuff. There are some spare toiletries in the bathroom next to the kitchen, just take whatever you need, alright?’ Cillian said before telling you that he missed you.

‘I miss you too’ you said before saying goodbye. You didn’t really want to ruin his evening with Denise.

****

Two hours later, you left your house without saying a word, but texted your mother that you would be staying with a friend for a while after you got into your car.

Within ten minutes, you arrived at Cillian’s apartment, which is where his housekeeper met you and handed you the keys before showing you how everything worked,.

The electricity, lightening, stereo and heaters were all controlled via some sort of device which looked an iPad and she handed you a note with the pin for the alarm system.

After she had left, you walked around the apartment and felt somewhat strange about being there without Cillian. You hadn’t really been seeing each other for a long time but yet he entrusted you with the keys to his apartment.

“I am here now. What room did you want me to use? Xx” you texted him after you had a quick wander around and it didn’t take long for Cillian to respond.

“Is that a trick question? Because you know that you can sleep in my bed, right?” Cillian then texted back without hesitation.

“Can I borrow some of your clothes too?” you then asked cheekily.

“Not sure if my clothes fit you, but sure, knock yourself out” Cillian texted back before suggesting that you should have a glass of wine and a warn bath so that you could relax.

“I just might. Want me to send you a picture when I am in the tub?” you responded and all you received from Cillian in response was an emoji that smirked, making you laugh. Not only does this emoji look ridiculous but also did he never send you an emoji before whilst you, on the other the hand, used them frequently.

***

After you had a nice long and relaxing bath, you returned to the living room, completely naked. You didn’t bother to wear any clothes since, for the first time in a long time, you were all on your own.

Walking around naked felt natural to you and, after you found yourself an interesting novel on Cillian’s bookshelf, you lied down on his bed with it and a glass of red wine by your site.

“Feels weird lying in your bed without you. What are you doing?” you texted before you stretched out across the large king-sized bed and opened the book.

“Watching a movie, although I am curious now about what you are doing on my bed. It’s too early to go to sleep” Cillian texted back and, just as he did, Denise glanced over towards him and asked him whether the movie they were watching bored him. Just as Cillian told her that he had seen the movie before, he received yet another text message from you.

“Just settled down with a book” you responded and Cillian was quick to pick up his phone again and text back, much to the amusement of his daughter.

“What book?” Cillian texted back just before Denise asked him whether he was texting with Laura Jennings after she observed that he had been on his phone pretty much all evening, texting back and forward with someone like a teenager.

‘No, we ended it. I am just texting with a friend’ Cillian said in response to Denise’s comment.

‘A female friend by any chance?’ Denise asked as she saw the cheeky smirk on her father’s face.

‘Just a friend’ he then responded to Denise as he placed his phone back on the table, shortly after which he received yet another message.

This time, unfortunately, the message didn’t contain any text but a picture instead.

‘I think your friend just sent you a nude and, clearly, your friend is a woman…a woman who must like you if she is sending you pictures like this’ Denise then laughed out loud as she saw the preview of the text from a distance popping up on his phone.

Cillian quickly reached for it, cheeks blushing red as he hoped that she wouldn’t recognise that it was you on the picture after he went through the trouble to change your name on his contact list a few days ago to your initials only.

Luckily, when Cillian opened the message after standing up and walking away from the lounge room, he realised that the picture didn’t show your face.

In fact, it showed nothing more than your naked stomach and legs while your core was covered (barely) by the book he had been asking about.

Whilst it shocked him, Cillian decided not to tell you about the fact that Denise had seen your picture in preview on his phone. He thought that, at least this way, you would send him some more.

“Nice choice…now can I get a picture without the book?” he asked cheekily and, of course, you didn’t deny him and responded with yet another more graphic picture.

Just as the phone buzzed again, Denise yelled out from the living room of Cillian’s Manchester apartment.

‘Stop sexting dad and explain this movie to us. We are lost’ she joked and Cillian couldn’t help but roll his eyes when he returned to the living room.

Cillian was quick to change the topic as he was somewhat embarrassed following Denise’s comment and, just before he returned to the living room, he texted you to inform you that he would be in touch in an hour or so.

Of course, you knew that he was spending time with Denise and didn’t mind and, instead of pondering on about the fact that Amalie was around him, you indulged in your book while you waited for Cillian to text you back.

***

Half an hour later, after the movie was well and truly finished, Cillian excused himself in order to have a shower while Denise had already passed out on the guest bed.

She was tired after travelling since, as usual, she had to take motion sickness medication before getting onto the plane.

Amalie, on the other hand, was not tired at all and decided that it was now or never in order for her to make her move on Cillian.

‘Cillian, uhm…could you give me a hand with this please, I don’t want to wake Denise’ she said as she tried to fiddle around with the zipper of her black fabric top.

‘Sure, I can try’ Cillian said, not thinking anything about it while Amalie turned around and lifted up her long blonde hair.

‘There you go’ Cillian said somewhat uncomfortably as he unzipped the back of her shirt and noticed that she didn’t wear a bra beneath it.

As soon as her shirt came undone, she turned around and, without bothering to cover her breasts, she placed her hands on to Cillian’s chest and thanked him.

‘Amalie, you might want to put on a t-shirt or something’ Cillian said as his cheeks turned red and, just as he did, Amalie leaned forward and pressed her lips onto his.

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #Cillian Murphy x Reader #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n #agegap

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fandomfoodiedancer · 3 years

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The Proposal Job

summary: your brother Quinn finds out that Eliot has proposed to you, in a less than ideal situation.

Warning: a little bit of soft smut in the first bit, then angst.

a/n: @being-worthy I'm so sorry this took me so long, I hope you like it!

The rain poured, hard waves of water crashing onto the window above your bed, but the sounds were hardly noticeable to you. The sounds of skin on skin mixed with the groans escaping Eliot's sinful lips had you creating cries of your own. As his lips captured yours in a searing kiss, your spirit started to rise as the tension in your lower stomach got tighter and tighter, clenching around him as his rhythm started to falter. So close yet so far when the door burst open, the doorknob making a dent in the wall as you're big brother came running into the room. So fast it was a blur, Quinn ripped Eliot from you, throwing him to the ground.

“I'll give you ten seconds to put some boxers on so you can have a bit of dignity whilst I beat your sorry arse” The rage on Quinn's face was undeniable, as was the amusement on Eliot's.

“Bring it on”

For fucks sake. Men and their egos. Throwing on a dressing gown, you stomped over to the brutes, hoping to stop the fight. One hand on each man's chest as Eliot slipped the boxers on, you turned to face your brother, hoping to explain yourself.

“Qui-” In the time it took you to get half his name out, he had already seen the glimmer of the diamond on your ring finger. This wouldn't be good.

In seconds he was aiming for you, throwing fists, nearly landing kicks as you all but dodged away from him, hoping this would at least stop him from attacking Eliot. As the disbelief fell from Eliot that he was no longer the target, he grabbed Quinn, pinning him against the wall, maintaining a tight grip as the anger from Quinn stayed targeted on you.

“Y/n. I... he... why?” The anger slipped into betrayal “You're my sister! We've only ever had each other and we promised – you fucking promised – that we would tell each other everything! Then you go and get fucking engaged to this arsehole without even mentioning it to me?! And you Mr. Big Time Thug, couldn't even be bothered to fucking ask for a blessing, which, no, by the way, you will not get!”

The room stood still for a moment as Quinn tried to collect himself, but you spoke first.

“Quinn, you are my brother and I love you. I have never, and will never lie to you. The only reason I didn't tell you about Eliot was I thought you would kill him, and now that he's proposed to me – which was only tonight so you don't need to sulk about that – I was planning on telling you in the morning.” All fight had left Quinn as Eliot slowly backed away from him. You squished in between the hitters to hug your brother.

“Does he make you happy?” His voice was softer than Eliot ever thought possible. But he knows you have a way with empathy.

“More than anyone else in the world. I love him, every time I see him he makes me smile. With him, I never feel insecure, only loved as much as I love him” Nodding his head, Quinn's soft eyes turned cold as he stared Eliot down.

“Do you love her? Do you promise to never leave her or hurt her? Because no amount of threats right now will do justice to what I will put you through if not” Daggers were being sent laced in venom with every word that left Quinn's mouth.

“I do. I know that I don't deserve her, but I will do everything in my power to make her happy Quinn, please, I know this isn't easy in our profession, but I'm begging you to believe me, to trust me.”

Seemingly happy with his answer, Quinn nodded and pulled away from your grip, headed towards the door. Stopping in the doorway, he turned to add a final thought.

“Just so you know, I expect to be a taste tester for everything on the wedding menu. And to have a vote in the floral arrangement.” With those parting words, he left the room as Eliot closed the door again.

“Well. That went better than expected” You smiled as you hooked your arms around Eliot's shoulders eager to finish what you had started.

“Yeah, you're telling me” holding onto your waist, he kissed you softly as you backed up onto the bed.

#eliot spencer x reader #eliot x reader #quinn leverage #eliot spencer #leverage #leverage fanfic

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americancowgirl19 · 3 years

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My Home

Summary: You’ve loved Newt since you were both in school. He’s loved you back as well and will continue to love you even when you return from the war different.

Warnings: fluff, angst, ptsd

Reader: Male Slytherin Reader

Pairings: Newt Scamander x Male Reader

Word Count: 3,812

A/n: Enjoy

Masterlist

You had ambitions when you were growing up. You wanted to be important, you wanted to be rich. You wanted to capture the attention of every room you walked into. You didn’t want to spend the rest of your life living in the slums you had grown up in.

When you got your letter for Hogwarts you became excited. You were sorted into Slytherin, which didn’t surprise anybody who knew you.

You were as smart as you were ambitious. You knew if you were to have the life you envisioned then you had to do well in school. As your classmates tried out for Quidditch, you were studying Charms. As others went on dates, you were in the library.

You had a few friends but mainly kept to yourself. The last thing you wanted was to get attached to anybody and have them get in the way of your grand plan. But life hardly ever works out the way you want it.

Your friends had convinced you to take a day off from your studies to swim in the Black Lake. It was a beautiful day and you agreed. When your group was within rage, they hooted and hollered as they raced for the water. You smirk, rolling your eyes as they dove into the lake leaving you with the towels and shirts.

You moved closer to the water and tossed what you were carrying on the ground. Movement to your left, by the trees that were near the water, gained your attention. You saw two students sitting in the shade. You could barely make out their uniforms but noted that one was a Slytherin while the other was a Hufflepuff. An odd friendship but one that didn’t bother you like it bothered some of your other housemates.

You found yourself observing him them for longer than you intended. The girl merely spared your friend group a glance before looking back to what she was doing. The boy, however, was staring. It took you a moment to realize his gaze was toward your direction. When you realized this, a cocky smirk came to your lips.

Your fingers grabbed the the edges of your shirt. You pulled it off, stretching your muscles dramatically. You didn’t have the best body, especially compared to some of your friends, but as long as he was looking why not give him something to look at?

When your eyes went back to him, he was looking away. It disappointed you but you shrugged it off and joined your friends in the lake. You periodically glanced towards the two under the tree. The last time you looked, they were gone.

The next time you saw the boy under the tree was about a month later in the library. You were looking for a book when you stumbled into him as you went down another row. He was sitting at one of the tables. His head was in his notes and his eyebrows were frowned.

You found yourself staring at him again. He was so focused on what he was doing he didn’t even notice. Your eyes looked over his freckles, his blonde hair and his pale skin.

Unable to help yourself, you take a seat near him. He glances at you before looking down at his book. You bite back a smirk when his eyes quickly return to you. Then it becomes evident that he’s trying not to look at you.

You’re just about to get the courage to talk to him when his Slytherin friend comes around the corner. You inwardly curse yourself for taking too long but at least you heard her say his name.

Newt.

Once you had his name, it wasn’t hard for you to find out quite a bit about him. Apparently Newt was infamously known around Hogwarts for his love of magical creatures and his close friendship with Leta Lestrange. He was a few years younger than you but it didn’t bother you. You wanted to know him.

Getting him to talk to you was almost as difficult as it was for you to get him to be comfortable around you. It took you months to get him to be relaxed in your company. Took you a little longer for him to prefer your company to Leta’s.

You weren’t a big fan of Leta. She was selfish and wanted Newt to herself. You knew there was a part of her that cared for Newt but her ambition matched yours and not in a good way.

You hated that Newt was obviously in love with her when he should be in love with you. Newt had your attention the second you saw him by the lake. You wanted him and you were hoping to gain his favor but wasn’t expecting it to be this hard. However, anything worth having is worth working for.

Although, there has always been a little doubt that you’d never get Newt to look at you the way he stares at Leta. It was barely a decade into the 20th century. Same sex couples weren’t exactly welcome, even in the wizarding world. You didn’t let that stop you from trying.

“These are bowtukles?” You asked, grinning a bit bashfully when Newt was giving you his adorable amused look.

“Bowtruckle,” Newt corrected you. You continue to stare at his face even when he looks away.

“Bowtruckle,” You whisper, grinning when you see his cheeks redden. The reaction gives you hope that just maybe he’s into you.

“They erm... They eat insects and um... they’re shy,” Newt mumbles, avoiding your gaze as he explains what he knows about the creature crawling in your hand.

“No wonder they like you so much,” You tell him. “You’re one and the same,” Newt looks at you sheepishly. “You’re both shy but I don’t think you eat insects, at least I’ve never seen you eat them,”

“Heh, no,” Newt shakes his head, fiddling with his fingers.

“But you’re both adorable,” You blurt. This time, it’s you avoiding eye contact. You clear your throat and shift a bit awkwardly. You were smart, you were ambitious, but for the love of Merlin you could hardly flirt.

But like many things, even if you weren’t good at something it didn’t stop you from doing it. You were a bad singer but you still sang if it cheered Newt up when he was feeling down. You were horrible with creatures but you tried because Newt would always light up when he got to teach you something. You weren’t the greatest at romance but you still tried to woo Newt.

In your eyes, you were hardly making progress but Newt saw things differently. He may have been infatuated with Leta before he knew you but then you were the one capturing his attention. He looked forward to being around you. He wasn’t so anxious with you. If he was, it was a good anxious.

It wouldn’t be until your last year, his 5th year, did you finally get the courage to do something about your feelings for him.

You took him to Hogsmeade. It didn’t occur to Newt that this was a date until the end of the night. The whole time he thought the two of you were just hanging out and that you were being overly flirtatious.

Then you kissed him.

He was talking as you two were walking back to Hogwarts. A nervous ramble. One you would normally listen to but there was something else on your mind.

There was no-one around. He was being his adorable self and all you wanted to do was plant one on his lips. So, you did.

It was a quick peck. You pulled back just as quick as you moved in. It was enough, however, to gain his attention. You both stopped walking and he turned to you in a sort of daze. You gnawed on your lower lip and watched his expression carefully.

His face was completely red and he was looking everywhere else. You would have been scared he didn’t like it if it wasn’t for the smile threatening to rip his face in two.

You did a quick glance around to see if anybody was around before turning back to Newt when you were reassured the two of you were still alone. Slowly, you wrapped your hand around the back of his neck. His eyes snap back toward you. You steps closer to him.

“Tell me to stop,” You whispers, gently pressing your forehead on his. When he remains silent, you connect your lips on his once again. This time you go slowly. You smirk just a bit when his hands grab your jacket. You pull him closer, resting your other hand on his hip.

Technically, you two never became official but he was yours and you were his. Leta was the only one who knew about your relationship and you had not so kindly threatened her to keep it quiet. You weren’t about to allow her to use your relationship with Newt for her own gain. As much as you wished she would just stay away you knew you wouldn’t be able to get rid of her because Newt still cared about her.

Your happiness with Newt only lasted a few months until trouble came.

“It wasn’t your fault! Why are you taking the blame?” You growled, following Newt to the Hufflepuff common room.

“Leta doesn’t deserve to be expelled-”

“And you do?” You ask, raising your eyebrows. “Love, you had nothing to do with the accident, don’t take the blame.”

“It’s already done, there’s no taking it back,” Newt told you. “I’ll be alright,” He promises, glancing at you. “I’ll go live with mum and learn more about creatures. Maybe get a job at the ministry in a few years,” He shrugs. The two of you come to a stop just in front of the doorway. “They’re letting me keep my wand,” He mumbles looking on the bright side. You sighed, staring down at your boyfriend.

“You know, I can leave too,” You suggested. Newt’s eyes snap to yours. “I can go with you and we can go on those adventures you told me about. Discover some creature together,” Newt shakes his head, your smile falters.

“You’re too close to graduation to leave,” Newt says. “I’ll be fine on my own for a couple of months. Graduate then come find me... if you want,” He tells you. You sigh but don’t put up a fight knowing that graduating would help your future more than if you left with Newt now.

“Fine, but don’t miss me too much, yeah?” Newt returns to his sheepish self causing you to grin. Not caring if anyone saw, you grab his chin and direct his lips to yours. “I’ll find you on the other side handsome,”

When Newt left school grounds, you confronted Leta. You made it clear that she was to stay away from Newt and yourself. When she tried to talk back, things got a little more intense.

You hadn’t intended to send her to the medical wing, though you didn’t regret it. All you wanted was to scare her. You succeeded but also received detention for the remainder of your Hogwarts year.

When you graduated, you sought Newt out like you promised. The letters the two of you exchanged wasn’t enough, you wanted to be with him.

His mother welcomed you with open arms while his brother was more hesitant. One, he didn’t know what he thought about the two of you together, and two, he was being the protective older brother.

You stayed with the Scamander's instead of returning to your family home. Your home was on the other side of the country. Plus it was crowded because your entire family shared a little cottage. Newt’s mother allowed you to live with them because once you got a job you were able to help pay for things. You were given a separate room from Newt’s but that didn’t mean you two weren’t spending nights together.

“You should be more careful, love,” You muttered quietly as you tended to his wounded arm. One of the hippogriffs that he helped take care of had scratched up his arm.

“I’m fine,” Newt insisted.

“I should have become a doctor,” You mused. “I have a feeling this isn’t going to be the last time I patch you up,” Newt smiles a bit. By the time you were done, his arm was as good as new.

Being a doctor surely would have helped you with the ‘get rich’ part of your plan. But you had other ideas. You were in the process of starting your own business. It was slowly taking off and your name was beginning to spread throughout England. Both wizards and muggles were beginning to learn who you were.

However, you took a few lessons on simple medical procedures in order to help keep Newt in one piece. It paid off because as you predicted, Newt needed patching up more than once. You wouldn’t have thought that such a quiet man like him would get into so much mischief. All for the love of his creatures.

The two of you had a plan. Newt wanted to travel and do research. You wanted to travel and expand your growing business. Why not travel together? It was the perfect plan for the both of you until Archduke Franz Ferdinand was assassinated.

You and Newt were sharing a bed a week after England declared war. Neither of you were talking. You were propped up against the wall with Newt’s back against your chest. Your arm was draped across his collarbones and his hand was cradling your forearm. Your other hand traced his bare stomach while his rested on your thigh.

You were leaving in the morning for training. Newt didn’t want you to go but you couldn’t sit this out. You were going to join the army while Newt fought the war his own way with the ministry.

“I love you, you know that?” You whisper in his ear. Your lips gently press against his head. He hums leaning back against you. You nuzzle your head in his neck and hold him tightly.

“You’ll come back to me,” Newt states, though his voice wavers. You flip your position so that he’s on his back and you’re hovering over him.

“You’re my home, Newt Scamander,” You tell him. “I’ll always come back to you,” You promise. He lifts his head and you lowers yours. Your lips connect as your body settles between his legs. You grind your hips into his earning a quiet moan from him.

In the morning, you left with Theseus. The two of you would serve in the same company. It was nice to know you would go through this with someone you knew. He may not have liked you at first but by the time the war came around, you two were friends.

“So, Thes... Have anyone waiting for you back home?” You asked, sitting in the muddy trench with him. You two were friends but that didn’t mean you talked about everything. By the time you moved in with Newt and their mother, Theseus had already moved out. He only visited here and there.

But now, you two were together every day. You had grown closer than you were before. Though, it’s not like you had much else to do during down time than to talk with him. He was from home, he was familiar. You were in a land unfamiliar fighting against unfamiliar people.

“You wouldn’t like her,” Theseus told you. You raised your eyebrow at him.

“I know her?” You ask, he nods. You continue to stare at him until he caves.

“Leta Lestrange,” He admits. You instantly groan. “She’s told me about you... You two have quite the history,”

“So, she can’t have Newt so she goes for the older brother,” You mutter under your breath.

“She’s not a whore,” He growls defensively. You bite back a sarcastic comment. Theseus lowers his gaze as he pulls out a picture of her. You glance at it before pulling out your own picture of Newt.

“Do you think we’ll make it out of this? Get back to them?” You ask, looking at him. Theseus meets your gaze.

“If we stick together? The Germans don’t stand a chance,” Theseus smirks. You soon begin to return the smirk.

After four years of being stuck in the mud in some other country you and Theseus finally returned home. Theseus returned to his lady love while you went to Newt. He was at the ministry when you returned. You visited him in his office.

“Wow, your own nook in the corner with a window,” You commented standing in the doorway. Newt’s head snaps up. “Hello, love,” You say, entering the room. You closed the door as he stood up and came to you.

When his arms wrapped around you you felt as if you were safe for the first time in four years. Your body sagged in against his but he held you close. You nuzzle your head into his neck seeking his comfort.

“You’re home,” He whispers. “You came back,”

“I’ll always come back to you,” You mutter into his neck.

When you finally pull away from him, Newt told his boss he was going home. Nobody argued with him. You both apparated back to his place. He had moved out of his mothers home a couple of years into the war but you didn’t care. All you wanted was to spend the night in his arms.

He laid on the bed with your head on his chest and your body between his legs. Your eyes stayed locked on the wall as his heart beat filled your ears. His fingers combed through your hair, lulling you to sleep.

While the little sleep you got was more than you had in four years, it wasn’t anywhere near peaceful. You may have left France but France followed you home. The bullets, the fighting, the artillery shells, the fucking smell, everything stayed with you.

You weren’t the only one suffering from the effects of the war. Your business suffered and your relationship became strained. You pushed Newt away, you pushed everyone away and fell into the bottle.

Although, no matter what you did, Newt never left. He took your mood swings, your anger, everything and stayed by your side. You didn’t deserve him.

After a couple of years of putting up with you, you finally ask Newt why he never left.

It was a rough night. You had been sleeping on the couch for a while because of bad nightmares. You didn’t want to keep Newt awake or hurt him in your thrashing. But tonight, you couldn’t get any sleep.

There was a storm raging outside. Thunder so loud the home was shaking. You were working on finishing a bottle of whiskey. When the lightning flashes and another round of thunder rolls, you flinch and let out a shaky breath.

You didn’t even realize that you were muttering to yourself. You were trying to remind yourself that you were home, in England. You were safe, not fighting in the trenches.

You didn’t even notice Newt observing you. He watched you clutch the glass of whiskey like a lifeline. He noticed you fidget. He knew you had struggled since you returned home but no matter what he did, you wouldn’t let him help you.

You were startled from your thoughts by the sound of a record playing. You look up to see Newt turning to you. You try to compose yourself. Newt had seen you at your worst, multiple times, but that didn’t mean you enjoyed showing him this side of you.

You wished you could go back to when you were both at Hogwarts, to a time before the war. You wanted to go back to when things were easy and effortless. You wanted to love Newt and give him everything he deserved not burden him.

When he held his hand out to you, you were tempted to grab a fuller bottle of whiskey and find another room to occupy. But as another round of thunder sounds, all you want to do is be in his arms. It’s the only place where you can be positive you’re safe.

You set the bottle down and take his hand. You stand and nuzzle into his neck. Your hand clings to his as your arm wraps around his back. He sways the two of you and hums in your ear.

“Why haven’t you left me?” You wonder out loud.

“I love you,” He whispers.

“I’m broken,” You tell him.

“Then I love every piece of you,” He mutters. “You’re my home as much as I’m yours,” He leans his head against yours trying to provide you as much comfort as he can. “I know I can’t take your pain and suffering away but maybe I can lessen it,” He whispers to you. “Just let me in... I can handle it. I can help carry whatever it is that’s weighing you down,”

“I don’t want to drag you down with me,” You say, starting to pull away but underestimate his strength. He holds you against him.

“I don’t care where you drag me, I just want to be with you. Let me in, please,” He begs, cupping your cheeks. “I love you and nothing will change that. I’ve stayed with you all these years because I want too and I’ll stay with you for the rest of our lives, even if you push me away. Don’t push me away anymore,”

“I’m sorry,” You whisper, pressing your head against his. “It’s just... my head’s so loud and...” You sigh. You hated talking about this but Newt deserved to have some kind of understanding. “Everything reminds me of the way... Even the fucking thunder,” You grumble.

“Then focus on me... when it gets too much,” Newt mutters.

“You hate attention,” You whisper.

“Not from you,” Newt counters. “I’ve always wanted your attention,” He tells you. You give him a small smile. “I was thinking about starting up my travels for that book I mentioned... I want you to come with me,”

“Are you sure?” You ask. “I can stay here-”

“I want you with me,” He tells you. “You can spread your business or just come along for the ride. Patch me up when I need you,” Your smile widens a bit. “IF things get too much, you can ride in my case,” You let out a small laugh.

“You still have that bloody case?” Newt blushes a bit and nods. “Alright, love... I’ll come with you,” Newt perks up and connects your lips quickly. You laugh before kissing him back. “You’re perfect, Newt Scamander, and I love you”

#newt scamander #newt x reader #newt scamander x reader #newt scamander x y/n #newt scamander x male!reader #newt x male!reader #x male!reader #x male reader #wizard #hogwarts #theseus scamander #leta lestrange #bowtruckle #war

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looooooooomis · 4 years

Text

F I N A L G I R L | T H R E E

You were his final girl. And there was no chance in hell that anyone or anything was going to mess that up.

p a r t t h r e e | j e a l o u s y

masterlist here

pairing: Billy Loomis x f!reader word count: 4.3k warnings: angst tbh. and not the healthiest relationship but ya know what it’s billy so we persevere, unwanted advances, more angst x

I had a request for a jealous billy, so I hope you like my take on it x

That was the third time in the last thirty minutes that Steve Shit-For-Brains Orth touched you. Three fucking times. The first two times he was willing to look past but the third? Fuck no. The asshole, who was sitting with his clunky arm on the back of your chair, had not-so-casually rubbed his thumb along your spine, inciting a rather surprised look from you and a rather murderous one from Billy.

Of course, Steve couldn’t see the rage practically oozing from Billy, but boy was it there. Especially when you went out of your way to lean further into your desk as though to avoid his grabby little hands.

But that didn’t stop Steve.

Billy could see the frustration on your face as you fought to keep your cool in front of your classmates as his hand dipped beneath the desk to give your thigh a firm squeeze.

The same thighs that Billy’s face had been buried in just this morning.

All Billy saw was red as you pushed Steve’s hand away, muttering something to him under your breath before raising your hand to excuse yourself. With an anger so palpable radiating from his every pore, Billy watched you leave the classroom and thought of the various ways he could kill that fucker before you returned.

“Billy,” the girl, Sam, he’d been paired up with groused, “are you even paying attention?”

“No,” he simply said, barely hearing her above the sound of his own blood coursing to his ears. “Sorry.”

He wasn’t sorry, of course, only irate. The vein in his neck pulsed against his skin as his blood pressure skyrocketed. This was the type of thing that drove him to the brink of insanity when it came to having to keep the two of you a secret for the sake of his plan. It was bad enough that he couldn’t parade you around like he wanted to, even worse that he knew, deep down, that your little arrangement hurt you beyond belief – but this? Watching you get pawed by these dickheads all the while he was forced to take a backseat?

He couldn’t stomach it.

His knuckles were white from the grip he had on his pencil but even as he felt it splinter off into his palm, his grip never waned. Not for a second. It was either that or kill Steve Orth and, while that sounded great, he couldn’t. Not yet, at least.

Just as the pressure of the pencil in his hand got to be too much, you waltzed back into the room with your head held high, seemingly unfazed by the naked eye – but Billy saw right through it. He knew you, more than either of you would like to admit, and he could see the irritation as clear as day in those gorgeous eyes of yours as Steve smirked playfully up at you from where he sat.

Subtly, you gave Billy a gentle nod, silently talking him down from doing anything stupid in the middle of the classroom, before taking your seat yet again.

Thankfully, Steve managed to keep his hands off of you for the remainder of the class but, unbeknownst to both you and Steve, that assholes fate had been sealed. Billy might not have been able to do anything to him yet, but he would. And he was going to enjoy every second of it.

The bell eventually rang out and Billy, wasting no time at all, pushed himself off of his desk and walked up beside you. “You okay?” He asked, but his eyes were trained on Steve who was much too busy high-fiving one of his friends to notice Billy’s murderous stare.

“I’m fine, Billy,” you laughed, “he’s an idiot, but he’s a harmless idiot.”

“Harmless?” Billy’s voice was low and impressively tame considering the fact that beneath it all, his blood was boiling. “He has no right to touch you.”

Glancing over your shoulder you smiled at one of the other cheerleaders before looking back at Billy. “I appreciate the concern, Billy, but I’m fine.”

That casual tone of yours just about killed him every single time. It was a punch to the gut compared the woman he had all to himself behind closed doors. This version of you, this censored version, was just a part of the charade, he knew that much, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

The rest of your classmates slowly filtered out of the room, eventually leaving you and Billy alone as you tossed your notebook into your bag. That weighty stare of his was ever present, but you pretended not to notice in fear of someone walking in. Billy Loomis was a lot of things, but subtle, he was not.

At least where you were concerned.

“That’s bullshit,” he seethed, “someone ought to show that fucker he can’t just go around touching what isn’t his. He—”

“What isn’t his?” A bitter laugh tumbled out of your lips. “I’m not a piece of fucking meat, Billy. I’m not his, sure, but I’m not yours, either.”

You watched the muscle in Billy’s jaw clench and that vein in his neck that always seemed to swell whilst he was under pressure visibly strained and pulsed before your very eyes. “I didn’t say you were,” he muttered, “I just meant that he needs to learn some respect.”

“He does,” you agreed, “but that’s not your job to teach him.”

Leaning against the desk, he ran a hand through his hair and glowered across at you. “I could tell it bothered you, so why the hell are you defending him?”

You rolled your eyes and swung your bag over your shoulder. “I’m not defending him, Billy. Steve’s an asshole, we all know this, but I don’t want you to get in shit thinking it’s your job to defend me. I can look after myself, Billy. I promise.” With another futile glance towards the door, you reached forward and gently ran your thumbnail against his bottom lip. “Besides, you’re too cute for a fistfight.”

Upon dropping your hand back down at your side, Billy caught it and gave it a squeeze. “I can’t help it if I get heated about all these assholes. Look at you.”

“You can help it, actually,” you laughed. “Don’t engage, first off. And, secondly,” you leaned in a little closer so that your lips were dangerously close to his ear, “try to remember who it is I’m fucking at the end of the day, hmm?” You pulled away and offered him a quick wink before walking out of the classroom. “See you at lunch, Loomis.”

»»-------------¤-------------««

“All I’m saying is that if he didn’t want me giving sage advice to those renting a fucking movie, then why hire me in the first place?” Randy asked with a casual shrug of his shoulders.

You, Tatum, Sid and Randy were all outside eating at the fountain whilst waiting for the other two idiots to join. Pushing your sunglasses further up your nose you smirked across at Randy. “Randy, you told the guy not to rent the movie. Your job is to make people want to watch these movies.” You popped a carrot into your mouth. “How you’re still employed is truly a mystery.”

“That’s the thing,” he laughed, “he fired me!”

“Shocking,” Sid chuckled, “what did you say when he fired you?”

Randy stole a celery stick out of your Tupperware container and bit down. “Nothing, I kept working. Fire me? Not on my watch. No thanks.”

With a shake of your head, you stretched out your legs on the concrete slab of the fountain and found Stu bounding towards you with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Did you guys hear?” He asked, swooping down to kiss Tatum’s cheek. “Our man, Billy, snapped.”

You froze mid-bite and immediately looked at Sid who had sat up looking concerned as ever. “What?” She asked in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Billy and Steve, man,” Stu laughed and snatched a carrot stick from your stash. “The two of them got into it during one coach’s drills and Billy just,” he bawled his hand into a fist and slapped it against his other hand. A resounding smack echoed out around you. “Clobbered him, man. It was awesome!”

With your appetite long gone, you slowly swung your legs back onto the ground and pinched your brow. You were raging. Not only had the idiot ignored you by engaging with Steve, but he’d gone ahead and fought him, too.

“What?” Sidney croaked. “W-Why would he do that? He’s never been the type to just fight someone like that. Did Steve do something to provoke him?”

You chewed on your lip and stared ahead as Stu merely shrugged. “Don’t think so,” he stole another carrot and grinned at something in the distance. “Ask him yourself, here he comes.”

Your blood was boiling beneath your skin as you watched Billy casually waltz over to your group as though he wasn’t wielding one hell of a fucking bruise on his cheek, accentuated perfectly with a small, clean slice along his cheekbone that would almost surely scar. The fucking moron.

“Billy!” Sid gasped, jumping up to tend to her boyfriend’s injuries.

You, on the other hand, forever the other woman, remained dutifully planted on the edge of the fountain. Not that you would have tended to him in any way, shape, or form in that instance. In fact, you weren’t sure you could trust yourself not to add to the mess on his face.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, giving her hand a quick kiss as she gently observed his cheek. “Things just got heated on the field, is all.”

“You should see the other guy,” Stu beamed, “I hear Steve lost a tooth!”

Your anger swelled, momentarily blinding you as the rest of your friends laughed and asked for a play-by-play of events. Not quite trusting yourself, you pushed yourself up from the edge of the fountain wall and grabbed your bag. “I’ll see you guys later,” you hummed, not looking up at the bruised idiot in fear or snarling at him.

“You don’t want to stay for story time?” Stu asked, looking between you and Billy in amusement.

“Can’t.” Smacking on what you only hoped was a convincing smile, you shook your head and gestured to the school. “Forgot I had a meeting with Miss Wills about getting my biology grade up.”

Just before you turned on your heel to head back into the school, you just managed to catch Billy’s eye as he dutifully sat beside Sidney. She was leaning into him, gently prodding the scar along his cheek with a concerned frown marring her pretty face. He, on the other hand, was staring evocatively across at you with a small frown of his own.

Clearing your throat, you waved them off rather quickly before heading back inside of the school. You were too angry to care about how you felt the weight of his stare all over you before finally disappearing from sight.

»»-------------¤-------------««

You locked your bedroom door that night and closed your curtains to avoid rolling over and seeing the idiot that was currently plaguing your every thought staring back at you from the second story of your house. In fact, that was what you did for the next three nights all the while managing to avoid Billy Loomis as much as humanly possible whilst at school.

So far, he had tried on four separate occurrences to get you alone. Whether it was subtly nodding towards an empty classroom with the gang around or lingering by your desk after English in hopes of pinning you down for a chat, it was obvious that Billy was desperate to talk with you. To smooth things over. To move on from this rather ugly display of jealousy.

But you weren’t. And, honestly, you weren’t sure if you were going to be any time soon, if at all.

A small dose of jealousy was only normal every once in a while. Not healthy, by any means, but a normal part of any relationship. Only this relationship you and Billy had was anything but normal. He had a girlfriend. A lovely, kind girlfriend who would have given him the world three times over if he asked. So just how Billy was the one with the audacity to be jealous made no sense.

Whenever you thought about it, you got mad. The injustice of it all was truly something you couldn’t wrap your head around. Just how Billy Loomis, the one with a girlfriend, could get jealous of a guy you were barely even acquaintances with really threw you for a loop. And yet you, the asshole who had somehow fallen in love with him, had to quietly take a seat and watch him dote over another girl in public.

Dote over your best friend.

Oh, the irony was delicious.

Tossing the book you’d been reading aside, you let out a quiet groan and closed your eyes as you heard the familiar jiggle of your window. It, like it had been for days, was still locked, thankfully, and your curtains still drawn in fear of seeing him.

The commotion tonight, was brief. He only tried for a second or two before you heard him meander his way back down to ground level. With an annoyed sigh, you reached for your book only to stop dead in your tracks when your doorbell rang out through your whole house.

Shooting up from your bed, you immediately lunged for the door and held your ear to it as your mother quietly complained about just who it could possibly be at this hour of the night.

Please be anyone else, please be anyone else, please be—”

“Oh, Billy,” your mother gushed. She’d always liked Billy. The traitor. “It’s awful late, is everything okay?”

Furling your brow, you pressed your ear further into your door and heard Billy’s deep voice say something – something probably charming – before your mother’s voice called up to you.

“Y/N, sweetie,” she beckoned, “Billy Loomis is here.”

You opened and shut your mouth several times over as you thought of your next few words. Somehow swearing at him from where you stood didn’t seem like the best idea with your parents in the house so, instead, you opted for the next best option.

You said nothing.

Holding your breath, you stood at the head of your room in nothing more than your flannel sleep shorts and tank top while hoping beyond hope that Billy would be ushered out of your house.

“I’m afraid she might be sleeping, dear,” your mother sympathetically cooed, “was there something you needed?”

Pressing your ear tighter to the wood, you barely made out the words ‘book’ and ‘homework’ before another sympathetic cluck escaped your mom’s lips. “And it’s due tomorrow?”

Bastard.

You panicked. His ploy was obviously to come up here and search for a book that didn’t exist all the while your parents carried on with their regular scheduled programming downstairs – but your parents weren’t dumb, nor were they naïve. Surely, your mother would offer to come up and root around for whatever it was he lied and said you had before she would inevitably have to wake you up in order to deliver the goods to the lying Loomis.

Your anger pulsed as realization dawned on you.

You had to go downstairs.

“Did you say something?” You asked, feigning innocence as you pushed your door open and made your way down, barely glancing at Billy who still stood in your entryway. “What are you doing here?”

Billy licked his lips. “I, uh, wanted to swing by and pick up the book for our English assignment. I think you must have grabbed mine, too, when you were putting your stuff away.”

“Nope,” you shrugged, “I don’t have it.”

Billy awkwardly smiled across at your parents before looking back at you. “You sure?”

“Positive,” you replied coolly. “Maybe you left it at Sid’s house?”

His shoulders briefly fell at your tone and, for a split second, you felt your heart fall into your stomach. You knew you were hurting him with the callousness of your words, but you had to stick to your guns this time around for your own sanity.

“Guess I must have misplaced it,” he wryly admitted. “Sorry for the intrusion, Mrs. Y/L/N.” His eyes flickered to you. “See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

You nodded, prepared to watch him leave, but before he could get a foot out of the door, your mother stopped him.

“Wait, Billy,” she ran out of the living room and into the kitchen, leaving you and Billy alone for all of three seconds before she shuffled back in. “Here,” she held out a dish packed to the brim with Shepard’s Pie. “I know your dad’s been working a lot of late nights so dinner’s might not be the most well-balanced, but a growing boy has to eat.”

Feeding the enemy. Typical.

“Y/N made it,” she bragged, unwittingly fanning the flames of annoyance in your chest. “It’s delicious, too.”

Touched, Billy grabbed the Tupperware container from your mom before glancing at you. He knew you could cook, you’d cooked for him several times in the span of your friendship – long before the two of you began…doing whatever it was you were doing – but as he accepted the container, there was an emotion there that was much too raw and real for you to try and decompress.

You realized, slowly, that your mother’s offering of Shepard’s Pie was probably the first time a maternal figure had paid him any mind since his own mother had walked out on him all those months back.

Your stomach dropped at the thought.

“Y/N is a great cook,” he agreed. This time, his voice was much quieter. “And thank you again, Mrs. Y/L/N.”

Once again, you watched him turn on his heel to leave the house but, with that niggling feeling of guilt twisting inside of your belly, you opened your mouth before you could so much as think to stop yourself.

“I’ll walk you out,” you muttered, flashing your mother a fleeting smile. “Be right back.”

Slipping on some shoes, you ignored Billy’s obviously surprised face as he lingered in the doorway before finally looking across at him. “Let’s go.”

The night was brisk as the two of you strolled towards his car in silence. You shivered absentmindedly as your pajamas offered no real sense of protection from the chill before glancing at Billy. Naturally, his eyes were already on you.

“Do you think your mother’s watching us right now?”

“Knowing her?” You shrugged. “Probably.”

He swallowed hard. “We should talk about what happened.”

“No,” you shook your head, “I know what happened. You saw Steve touch me and got irrationally jealous over it and, rather than deal with it like a grown man, you punched him and he lost his fucking tooth.”

A flicker of anger crossed over his handsome features. “It’s not that simple, Y/N, he—”

“That is probably the only simple thing about our little situation, Billy,” you acknowledged quietly. “You got jealous and you punched a guy. Doesn’t get simpler than that.”

“He deserved it,” he argued. “He’s a moron and shouldn’t have touched you. Do you know how hard it is to see that and not defend you the way I wanted to while it was happening?”

“Defend me?” You sneered. “Or stake your claim on me? No offence, Billy, but the entire male population of our school could ask me on a date tomorrow, and you’d have no fucking say in the matter. Whether they touch me or ask me out or anything, because you and I aren’t a thing.”

Billy chewed on his bottom lip as his grip on the Tupperware tightened considerably. “Yes, we are.” His voice was eerily calm despite the panic surging through his chest. “I love you, I told you that at the cornfield and I meant it. I fucking love you, Y/N.”

“You did,” you said, “and my feelings haven’t changed but you can’t be blind to the fact that this isn’t working, Billy. You getting jealous over me getting unwanted attention from a guy all the while expecting me to sit there and watch you and Sid flaunt your shit all over town?” You could feel your eyes begin to water as your emotions got the better of you, but you wouldn’t cry in front of him. You wouldn’t dare. “I’m supposed to sit there and trust what you’re telling me. That you will break up with Sid, that you do love me, that, if things were different, it would be me you’d be with and only me. But one guy squeezes my thigh and you lose your shit? Where’s the fucking sense in that?”

“I fucked up,” Billy admitted, his bravado long gone. “I see that now, I fucked up. But --”

“But,” you scoffed. “See, there it is. An excuse. I don’t want your excuses anymore, Billy. I want you and while I thought that was enough, I’m seeing it’s not that easy anymore. Not if you get to act like this unhinged asshole whenever I get a sliver of attention.”

You watched Billy’s eyes search your face as his hands trembled. He wanted to reach out and cradle your face, you could tell that much, but – tale as old as time – with an audience, even if it was just a possibility that it was your mother, he remained still. “Don’t do this to me, Y/N,” he pleaded, his voice shaky. “Please. I’m sorry, okay? I’m so sosorry.”

“I just think we need to take some time away from each other,” you muttered. “For our own sanity.”

“No,” Billy argued, stepping towards you in desperation. “No, Y/N, I need you. Please don’t do this.”

“I think you need to either make a decision with Sid or be more open with me about what the fuck is going on inside of that head of yours. You can’t go around punching people because you get jealous, Billy. And, until you figure your shit out, I think we should stop this. Whatever this is between us.”

“It’s a relationship,” Billy’s brows furrowed in outrage. “Two people who fucking love each other is a relationship, Y/N.”

A sad smile broke out across your face as you stared up at the starry sky above you. “Two people who love each other but can’t show it. Who have to hide whenever people are around in fear or being seen as anything more than good pals.” You shook your head and met his frenzied stare. “That’s not a relationship, Billy. That’s fucked up. We’re fucked up.” You sniffed and gestured down to the Tupperware in his hands. “Enjoy your food. I’m going back inside now, and I meant what I said. We need some time apart so, please, don’t come around here anymore. At least not until…” you let the sentence hang in the air, unsure of your next few words.

“Until what?” He was clinging to your every word but there was an anger so palpable radiating off of him that made you take a small step back. “Until you decide that you don’t want me anymore? Walk away and leave me like my mother did?”

You cocked your head to the side and hoped like hell the hurt you felt at that accusation didn’t directly show on your face. “If you truly think I would do that, Billy, then we’re even more fucked up than I thought.” You sniffed and began to turn back to your house. “I have a lot of faith in you, Billy, and a whole hell of a lot of trust. It’s about time you showed me that same consideration.”

The raw emotion on his face was jarring and almost made you hang back long enough to console him like you would any other time, but you couldn’t. If he couldn’t trust you, what the hell hope did either of you have at this becoming a real thing? Walking back to your house, your heart broke and any emotion you fought so desperately to keep down began to bubble to the surface. But you wouldn’t break down though, at least not yet.

You always had your cards on the table when it came to Billy Loomis and it was about time that he started showing his, as well.

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ignitedbynatsu · 3 years

Text

Jealousy pt. 2

A/N: another update whatt 👀 here is the long awaited part 2 of jealousy! I hope you like it @softiebadbitch! I've written a couple more one shots, which are currenlty in my drafts, but I'm gonna be spreading them over the next couple weeks (at least try to because I'm so impatient af) since I have finals and not much time to come up with complete new story ideas.

Genre: maybe a bit of angst? Fluff

Warnings: some swearing, some doubt about the relationship

🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡 🗡🗡🗡

He shouldn’t mind, he never spared it any thought before, so why did it bother him now so much? He’s used to your extreme friendliness, so why was it that he was only now getting annoyed by it? Was it because of Laxus? It couldn’t possibly be, he trusted the both of you with his whole heart. The only thing he was certain of was the fact that something didn’t sit right with him when he saw you and Laxus return from the job, shoving each other playfully around. He shouldn’t be surprised that you managed to crack Laxus, you had that effect on people after all, but for him also to break so easily? It just didn’t feel right.

“There you are!” your angelic voice filled his ears, and all of his worries he that had occupied his mind only seconds ago, suddenly seemed to vanish when you placed a short sweet kiss on his lips as a way of saying hello.

“How was the job?” Freed smiled down at you as he waited for you extravagant explanation you always gave when you returned from a mission.

“Laxus was totally exaggerating, he could’ve easily done the job by himself” You playfully roll your eyes at how he made it sound like you were the only one who could’ve helped him with the job “but it was fun! I finally got to see a more personal side of Laxus. I now truly understand why you admire him so much. He really is an amazing mage and surprisingly funny too!”

On the outside, the green-haired mage nodded along as you kept explaining all the ‘cool’ stuff Laxus did during the mission, while on the inside he wanted nothing more but for you to stop talking. He was acting petty, he knew it, he just couldn’t help himself “sounds like you two had a lot of fun, how about we end the day with a home-cooked meal and a movie?”

Freed was ready to leave these weird feelings behind and just bask in your love and affection, but you seemed to have other plans, quite literally for that matter “I would love to, but Laxus had already asked me to join him for some drinks to celebrate the success of the job”

“I see” he pressed his lips in a thin line as his eyes trailed towards the blonde mage. He knew he and his two other friends were planning something by the way they were talking and sneaking a glance at the two of you every so often. He just hadn’t quite figured out what. Did they have a bet that you wouldn’t be able to crack Laxus? Or was it something different?

He opted for the second option when Laxus appeared by your side, not sparing Freed even a glance “You ready to go?” The way Laxus hand rested on your lower back to guide you out of the guild, made the hairs on his arms stand up, but he refused to show any hint of annoyance.

“Bye, love, see you tonight!” You called out to Freed as you let Laxus guide you out of the guild.

The following days, the uneasy feeling never left Freed, in fact, it only got worse. He could feel his calm and composed act break, but he didn’t care. The anxiety and jealousy he was feeling were much more important than a stupid image. He still couldn’t wrap his head around what was going, and perhaps that was the most frustrating part of it all.

He shouldn’t feel jealous, he knows he shouldn’t. He knew you two would never do something to hurt you, he knew that deep down, and yet his mind kept playing tricks on him, sending him down the dark rabbit hole known as doubt.

It was only when Laxus willingly gave you a hug, that he decided he had enough “Okay, what the actual fuck is going on”

You were taken aback by the strong language coming out of your boyfriend's mouth. You didn’t know whether to be more shocked at the fact that he raised his voice out of nowhere or the fact that he just cussed at you. “I- What?”

“What’s going on between you two? And don’t you dare say nothing. You’re suddenly best buddies out of nowhere and decide to never leave each other alone for more than a second after that. Didn’t you two think that was at least a bit suspicious? You better come clean with me right now, or so help me God” Freed’s eyes were literally shooting fire as they darted between you and Laxus.

You had never seen this side of your boyfriend, and it kind of terrified you. Terrified by how he suddenly blew up without any warning. Did he give you any signs this past week? Were you being a horrible significant other for not hesitating for a moment and take his feelings into account? You should’ve known, but then again, why hasn’t this happened before considering you’re like this with everyone else too?

“Freed, I-“ You were still somewhat speechless, and before you could even sincerely apologize, you heard Bickslow cheering from behind you “finally!”

You whipped your head back so quick, you’re surprised it didn’t give you whiplash as you looked at him and evergreen who were now approaching you three “Took you long enough”

“It’s still less than a week” Laxus shrugged nonchalantly. Freed had cooled down a bit, but his eyes still held a hint of rage in them, “what the hell is going on?”

“Oh my, Freed, you sure get a foul mouth when you break your façade” Evergreen snickered while the said mage shot her a death glare, absolutely not in the mood for her snarky remarks.

“Can someone please tell me, us-” your eyes darted towards Freed for a mere second when you said that before eying your other friends again “-what is going on?

“Right, right. So, Evergreen over here was confused as to how Freed never got jealous over the fact that you’re so friendly with everyone” Once again you were questioning your qualities of being a good girlfriend “and then we realized that we had never seen Freed break his composed attitude under any circumstance-“

“so you thought, why not toy with our relationship?” the annoyance coated every word that left the green-haired mage’s lips. To say that he was disappointed in his friends was putting it mildly.

“It makes us look like bad friends if you put it that way” Evergreen mumbled as she looked away in shame. To be fair, she didn’t think Laxus would actually succeed in his job.

“Because you kinda are, right now” Freed sighed in disbelief at the obvious statement Evergreen just made “and for you to actually participate in one of Evergreen’s scheme’s, Laxus? What did they offer? You know what? I don’t care. Hope it was worth it.”

Freed stormed out of the guild, ignoring the shouts of his friends. You sighed deeply before finally speaking up as well “what you guys did, was kind of messed up, but I’ll talk with Freed about it and get him to soften up a little.”

“Thank you, (Y/N). We really never meant for this to happen. We’re so sorry” Bickslow apologized with the other two chiming in.

“Whether he forgives you guys is up to him, but I’ll see what I can do.” You hummed, ready to leave as well but stopped when you heard Laxus voice. “What about you?”

“Next time when you have an idea like that again, maybe stop and think about our feelings too. See you guys tomorrow” You gave them a small smile and actually left this time.

Once home, you immediately noticed a frustrated Freed, sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. “I’m home”

“(Y/N), I-“ You stop him before he can muster any more words “stop if you’re going to apologize, don’t. You had every right to act the way you did. I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner, now that I think about it. I’ve been acting like a terrible girlfriend and for that I’m sorry, I’ll do better from now on. I promise”

Freed quickly got up and took a couple of long strides before stopping in front of you. He placed both his hand on your cheeks, lifting it slightly, so you were looking him in the eyes “No, you stop that right now. You’re not a bad girlfriend, you’re the furthest thing from it. I knew what I would get myself into when I asked you to be my girlfriend. I didn’t expect you to change, nor do I expect that from you now. I’ve let my insecurities taken over whenever I saw you with Laxus, which I should’ve never done since I deeply love and trust the both of you.”

“You know I would never leave you for Laxus, right?” You whispered, scared that if you’d talk any louder your voice would break. “You should really give yourself some more credit. Laxus isn’t superior to you. In any case, you are superior to him”

“You only say that because you love me” he rolled his eyes, but appreciated your attempt at cheering him up nonetheless.

“Maybe, but does that really matter? You’re perfect the way you are, and I love you with every single cell in my body and believe me there are a lot” You joked lightly, trying to get rid of the tense mood, in which you succeeded cause you even managed to get a light chuckle out of Freed. “In all seriousness, though, I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t trust me.”

“And I’m sorry for even doubting you in the first place” He removed his hands from your cheeks as he placed a soft kiss on top of your head while wrapping his arms around your figure, your hand automatically sneaked around his waist as you laid your head against his chest.

“You know, Bickslow, Ever and Laxus really didn’t mean any harm but that horrible stunt they did” you mumbled as you both swayed slightly from side to side.

“I know, I’ll forgive them eventually, I just want to let them dwell on it for a little bit more.” He hummed in agreement. You lifted your head from his chest to look at him with an amused smirk on your lips, “what?”

“You really do have an evil side when you get ticked off. Remind me to never get on your bad side” you shook your head in amusement before laying your head back on his chest, feeling the vibration of his laughter against the side of your head.

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jungkookiebus · 5 years

Text

Overprotective | jjk

Genre: bf2l, smut, angst Pairing: jungkook x reader Rating: M Word Count: 6.6k Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING: there is domestic abuse, mostly mental, but there is mentions of physical, Jungkook beats the shit out of someone, if violence bothers you DO NOT READ THIS, cunnilingus, unprotected sex. Summary: Jungkook had been your friend for long enough to know that something was wrong and seeing you spiraling in your current relationship had him on edge. It all comes to a head at a house party when he witnesses the abuse firsthand, throwing him into a blind rage that has him throwing your boyfriend into the front lawn. Author’s Note: Angry jjk in the ON mv got me in my feelings. Thanks. @bulletproofbirdy

“Are you coming tonight?”

Jungkook sat on the edge of your bed scrolling through his phone.

“Hm?” he asked absently. You looked over to see his face illuminated by the eyesight ruining blue light of his phone. It highlighted the scar on his cheek. He scrunched his nose as he sniffed but didn’t look away from his phone.

“The party. At Hobi’s,” you said as you began removing your clothing and pulling dresses off hangers from your closet.

He finally looked up as you were pulling a gold dress up passed your hips and adjusting the straps on your shoulders.

“Are you really going to wear that?” he asked while gesturing his phone at you.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Seems like overkill maybe.”

Jungkook was your best friend of almost seven years. Seven years filled with happiness, sadness, and sometimes downright aggravation. Like now.

“It’s not that kind of party, _____, it’s chill.” He paused for a second and chewed his lip. “Is Cheol going to be there?”

You suddenly stopped mid-waist as you were pulling the dress back off. Jungkook had seen every which version of you there was to see. His favorite was high _____ trying to get to the bathroom before she wet her pants. Any shyness you had around Jungkook in the beginning was replaced by blind trust and a totally comfortable space around him. You had met Jungkook at a very similar party. He had tried to hook up with you and you had turned him down with such drunken gusto that he was immediately taken with you romantic or not. Later that night when your friend had, naturally, left you to go with some guy, you were stuck on the front lawn, mascara running from cry laughing at Jin’s dumb jokes, missing a left shoe, and a little hopeless. He sidled up to you as you scrolled through your contacts trying to figure out how to get home.

“Need help?” he asked after clearing his throat.

You had looked up at him, sneered, and went right back to scrolling.

His eyebrows shot up into his hair in amusement, a small smile forming on his face. He then leaned down closer to you and was looking at your phone screen.

“Can I help you?” you had slurred as you hid the screen against your chest.

“Let me get you home. Your friend obviously left you.”

You bent over, eyes crossing as you imitated the Spongebob meme.

“YoUr FrIeNd oBviOuSly lEft YoU. No shit Sherlock.”

You hadn’t expected him to start laughing so hard. Soon, he was unable to breathe, red faced as tears streamed down his face.

“What’s wrong with you?” You hadn’t expected him to answer. His laughter had him clutching his stomach in mock agony.

“I think I’m in love with you, let’s go,” he had said, grabbing your wrist and dragging you along behind him.

And that was how you became friends with Jungkook. It had all started with a pass that turned into hanging out and playing video games every weekend, to sleepovers, and then to practically living together despite having your own apartments. Your current boyfriend was not happy with the fact that Jungkook was with you most of the time.

“He’ll be there.”

You saw him bristle.

“Why do you like him?”

“Jungkook, not this again.”

Time and time again, Jungkook had seen you come home a little broken. At first, he thought maybe it was a tiny argument. You’d shrug off any concerns he had and told him you were just tired. He would watch you as you walked, shoulders slumped, and disappear into your room. The next day you would be perfectly fine, talking to him as if things were just as they should be. Then you started coming home, eyes puffy from crying and wiping your nose on your hand. Again, he’d ask you if everything was okay. ‘Just a little fight.’ He started to worry, but you told him everything would be okay. Months passed and you became withdrawn. The life left your eyes, your smile faded, and you started to spend more time at your apartment alone or with Cheol. Whenever he would go to your apartment in search of you and Cheol was there, he would either find a way to get rid of Jungkook or sulk behind you when Jungkook pushed passed him. Either way, Jungkook knew he was isolating you from him. Any attempt to talk to you would turn into an argument.

One day, you came into Jungkook’s office with a busted lip, fresh tears that were drying over the others, and holding your arms across your stomach defensively. He had jumped up from his chair and rounded his desk, reaching behind you to slam the door before grabbing you by the shoulders.

“Who did this to you?” he demanded. Anger was hot in his veins. He was shaking with it.

You began to cry harder as your head met his chest and all he could think of doing right now was keeping you as safe as possible, whatever that meant. He held you tightly, encased you in his arms, probably for the first time in months, he realized. You seemed smaller, skinnier, and all around weaker. His hand came up to your head and he noticed your once shiny, sleek hair was now lackluster and thin. Something else was wrong here.

“Please,” he whispered, “tell me what is wrong.”

“Cheol…,” you had whispered. But that was all he needed to hear.

“I’m going to kill him.”

You were suddenly defensive. Pushing him away you stepped back.

“It was my fault,” you stuttered. “I shouldn’t have tried to argue with him. Really, Jungkook, I deserved it.”

His heart shattered into a million pieces. His once beautiful, full of life best friend was falling into the clutches of abuse and she was pushing him away.

“Let me help you,” his voice wavered as he tentatively held out his hand.

“I don’t need you, Jungkook,” you had spat bitterly.

Before he had any more time to react, you were out of his door, and down the stairs. He had wanted nothing more than to chase after you, but he knew if he wanted to keep some type of watch on you, he’d have to back off.

And he was right. A few weeks later you texted him telling him everything was okay, and you wanted to hang out again. You still looked dull and sad, but he tried his best to stay out of your business in order to keep you close.

You pulled a black dress from your closet and started to pull it on.

“Things are better. Really. We talked it out and he’s gotten better.”

All Jungkook could do was scoff. Once an asshole, always an asshole. That’s what he really wanted to say but he opted to just stay silent.

“Don’t come if you’re just gonna be a grouch the whole time.”

“Fuck you, I’m going,” he said as he laid back against your bed.

“Be nice.”

“I’m always nice. Unless someone wants to start shit with me, I’m going to behave myself.” He went back to scrolling through his phone. “And wear that one.”

He didn’t once look at you, but you sighed and decided you were tired of trying on clothes anyway as you continued to get ready. Thirty minutes later and you walked up to the front door of Hobi’s house together. As soon as you stepped inside Cheol was at your side, grabbing your upper arm and leading you towards the kitchen for drinks. You looked back at Jungkook who was still standing in the doorway, eyes locked with yours. You saw fear and sadness there. All at once you felt angry, but his fear was shared. You were angry that Jungkook didn’t trust you, angry that Cheol treated you poorly, but would then be so loving…it was your fault somehow.

“Let me get you a drink,” Cheol said, releasing your arm. He didn’t hold you as hard as usual. That was good. He probably wasn’t mad that you walked in with Jungkook.

“How was your day?” you asked. He never asked you first. He either waited for you to say something or he would immediately jump into something that had happened to him. Nine times out of ten, when you started to talk about your day, he would cut you off. It got to the point where you didn’t even try anymore. That’s when you would text Jungkook, or call if Cheol left, and he would listen and try to give advice the best he could. He’d always end the conversation with a ‘I love you. Please tell me if you need help.’ You would halfheartedly affirm him that you would before hanging up. You were too embarrassed to let Jungkook into your real life now. If he knew, he’d try to get you to leave. You were happy. The bad days weren’t as often, but they didn’t exactly go away either.

“Ah, you know,” he said while he made your drink, but never looked up at you. He never did. “Just another day with those bastards that think they can tell me how to do my job.”

According to him, everyone at his office were idiots, yet he rubbed noses with them every day. You just hummed to let him know you heard but didn’t offer any words. He never wanted advice and he sure as hell didn’t want to hear about you.

“Let’s go,” he said while handing you a drink. He turned without a backwards glance, expecting you to follow dutifully. Which you did. He walked up to a circle of his friends and began chatting immediately, ignoring the fact that you were even there.

You sipped awkwardly on your drink as you scanned the room. You were very much on the outside of the circle, cut off by shoulders that were all above your head. You’d have to duck in between them if you wanted to say anything. Not that they wanted you to contribute. That’s when you spotted Jimin. About that time, he also saw you and began to wave emphatically. You met Jimin at the coffee shop you frequented before classes and you both soon were on the same coffee schedule, expecting to see the other every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. You’d stand in line together and talk about your weekend, classes, and whatever came up. You found out you had a similar friend in Hobi a couple of weeks into your friendship and soon began seeing him at his parties. You considered Jimin a good friend and his infectious laugh always brought a smile to your face. His eyes disappeared as he smiled harder, waving you over. Of course, you went on your own accord. Cheol didn’t even notice that you had walked away.

Minutes passed, you weren’t counting because when Jimin was telling you about some ridiculous group project he was in, time didn’t matter. Without noticing, Jimin had nonchalantly draped his arm across your shoulders as he laughed and talked. You didn’t think anything of it and neither did he. His face was red from the alcohol and he was laughing so hard, drool escaped the corner of his mouth, causing you to double over. He was still attached to you as you both bent over in laughter. On your vacant side, you felt four sharp fingernails dig into your upper arm. You yelped as you were yanked away. Jimin stumbled back in surprise but kept his footing.

“What are you doing?” Cheol seethed. His eyes were on Jimin and if looks could kill, Jimin would be dead and turned to dust on the floor.

Jimin’s eyes shifted to your terror filled ones. You willed Jimin to relent. Please don’t say anything, you begged internally.

He didn’t even spare Cheol a look as he looked directly at you.

“_____ are you okay?”

This time Cheol looked at you. You could feel the anger roiling off him. It heated your skin and made you dizzy. Your knees were locked and cutting off your blood supply. The room swirled a little as you shrank in fear.

“And what were you doing?” He almost spat in your face. His fingers dug harder into your arm and you felt the first tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

“Please not here,” you begged as you tried to pry his fingers from your arm.

That only made him angrier. People were starting to notice and look at you. Jimin was sobering up quickly and was about to say something again when you heard it.

Your mind was hazy as your thoughts raced, trying to figure out every possible solution to this situation. It was a growl? Roar? You weren’t sure what it was at first, but it was loud. Someone was very, very angry. You could hear them yell, deep and guttural, somewhere close by.

“You fucking son of a bitch, don’t fucking touch her!”

That’s when Cheol’s gripped was ripped from you. He was still holding tightly, and his fingernails dug painfully into your skin, but he soon lost his grip and you were sent to the side. When you could catch your bearings, you righted yourself to figure out what the hell had just happened. Jungkook stood, fists clenched and the knuckles on his right hand a bloody pink. You had never seen him with that look before, at least never directed at you. Hatred. Pure, unadulterated hatred is how you would describe it. His eyes were black, and anger burned there. Suddenly, his soft features you loved so much were sharp and menacing. This was a Jungkook you didn’t know and one you didn’t wish to encounter again. His chest heaved as he breathed hard, trying to contain himself as Cheol scrambled up from the floor and launched himself at Jungkook. You screamed as he collided with Jungkook’s chest, shoving him backwards, but Jungkook was good on his feet. He managed to keep his hands on Cheol’s shoulders, stepping back in time with him as his back connected with the closest wall. Cheol tried to take a swing at Jungkook, but he was too drunk to aim correctly. Jungkook dodged him easily before he landed a punch to his stomach. He stumbled backwards, coughing, but either the alcohol or sheer stupidity had him standing up somewhat tall in the face of a fuming Jungkook. Jungkook clearly had not been drinking as he stood his ground steadily, waiting for Cheol to make a move.

“You want that slut,” Cheol sneered, pointing a shaky finger at you. “You can have her. I used her all up anyway.”

You thought that Jungkook was going to explode like a star and take everyone with him. His gaze darkened as he surged forward, grabbed a stunned Cheol by his collar and literally swept him off his feet with one kick of his foot, and began dragging him through the house. The crowd parted like a fog around a car, immediately closing in on them so they could see what Jungkook was about to do. The crowd piled out of the front door after them as Jungkook drug a kicking Cheol down the front steps. You tried to push passed all the people, but the crowd was closing in and you were desperate to get outside. When you were able to make it out the front door and to the porch you saw Jungkook drop Cheol on the front lawn before sitting on his chest. You saw his fist raise and before you could intervene as you stumbled down the steps, you heard the sickening crack as he connected with his face.

You could not believe this was happening right now. Jungkook had really lost his mind.

“You don’t love her, stupid mother fucker,” Jungkook growled as he grasped his shirt in his left fist and raised his fist once more.

Crack.

You winced and turned away as Jungkook yet again, connected with Cheol’s face.

His fist came back into the air, bloody, skin split, but he didn’t even seem to notice as he directed his anger on Cheol.

“And you’re sure as hell never touching her again.”

This time, the hit sounded wet. When you looked back, you could tell Cheol was out cold.

“Jungkook, please!” you called out. At the sound of your voice Jungkook froze and seemed to snap out of it. He turned and looked at your pained expression as you begged him to stop. He dropped his hand and looked down at Cheol’s bloody face.

Hobi came running from inside the house, leaping off the porch in one bound and was pulling Jungkook off him.

“What the fuck, Jungkook?!” Hobi was looking from him to Cheol to assess the damage.

Cheol’s friends were now surrounding as Hobi pulled Jungkook away from the scene, sternly telling him he needed to leave before another fight broke out and he called the cops.

That’s when you knew you had a decision to make.

Cheol lay completely still in the grass, left eye swelling, and blood pouring from his bottom lip. If you guessed correctly, his nose was probably broken too. You were finally able to see him for who he truly was; a manipulative bastard that never loved you but wanted you to himself. He was ugly inside and out and all it took was seeing him finally being reduced to nothing. Gone was the “tough” exterior of Cheol. Your eyes met Jungkook’s from across the yard. He still looked angry, but you saw fear there too. He saw your eyes flicker to Cheol again and he knew you were trying to decide between the two. He didn’t know what he would do if you didn’t at least act like you were going to walk his way. But you had already decided. Cheol had his “friends”. They all fussed over him now deciding who was going to take him to the ER. None of them even turned to find you. You walked past the group and straight into the arms of Jungkook.

“Let’s go home,” he said shakily. His adrenaline was ebbing, and he was starting to feel the repercussions of his actions.

Ten minutes into the thirty minute walk and you were reduced to a sobbing mess. The night and all the things leading up to it were easily being stored away as they happened, as your brain always did to protect you. But now that there was a whole added element of worry you weren’t expecting, you didn’t know how to feel so naturally you began to panic. On top of that, your feet were starting to bleed from your heels. The entire time, Jungkook was next to you, arm around your waist as you walked. He was the one that needed help walking, not you, yet here he was making sure you were okay.

“Hey, everything’s okay,” he whispered as he stopped.

Your body felt spent as if you had stayed up for hours on end; exhaustion finally settling into your bones. After the initial shock had settled, you suddenly feared for Jungkook, knowing what Cheol was capable of doing.

“Jungkook…,” you cried. You reached down and pulled your heels off. On top of being frustrated, scared, and tired your feet were in so much pain you could barely stand it.

He looked down and sighed.

“Oh, baby…,” he said sympathetically.

The sentiment made your heart skip a beat, but it was something you could think about later. He waited until you were upright before he scooped you up bridal style.

“Jungkook, you don’t have-,” you started before he cut you off with a ‘shh’. You looked down at his bloody knuckles, the skin very angry in some spots where he split them open. He paid no mind as he held you close, and you let your head fall against his shoulder. His breathing was steady as he carried you and he didn’t say a word the whole way. In no time, he was buzzing into your building and carrying you up the stairs. He only sat you down at your door so you could fish out your key. Once inside, he ensured the door was locked and the window leading to the fire escape.

“We gotta clean up your hand,” you said almost robotically as you moved on instinct towards the bathroom.

“____,” he said while reaching out to stop you and you flinched.

For the second time, you broke his heart as you jumped as if he were going to hit you.

“It’s okay,” he reassured as he ran his hand down your hair.

You started to cry again, but this time you didn’t feel as if the panic would consume and kill you. You felt bad for Jungkook.

You didn’t say anything as you guided him to the bathroom and he sat down on the edge of the tub as you pulled a first aid kit out from the cabinet. You sat on the toilet, knees to knees, as you grabbed his hand and sat it on your thigh. Grabbing a washcloth, you held it next to his hand as you carefully poured peroxide over the cuts. He watched you intently as you focused on the work at hand. In the moments Jungkook had you away from Cheol was when that fake exterior would start to melt little by little. When you were around Jungkook, you relaxed and were yourself. He’d see old pieces of you come back from time to time and he felt like he got his best friend back, until you went home to him. He felt angry again as he thought about what Cheol took away from him, what he took away from you, but he kept it to himself as you reached for antibacterial cream and some butterfly band-aids.

“What were you thinking?” you finally whispered.

You were still working slowly, paying attention to each knuckle.

What was he thinking? Part of him was blinded by anger and the other part knew exactly what it was doing. He wanted to beat the shit out of Cheol, had wanted to for quite some time. This time he was able to witness him put his hands on you, so he felt justified.

“I didn’t like seeing you get hurt,” he mumbled. He was embarrassed now, but he didn’t regret what he had done.

“Oh, Jungkook,” you sighed as you reached for some gauze to wrap his hand.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too.” This wasn’t out of the ordinary for Jungkook to say, but the air felt different. There was a tension you could taste, and you felt Jungkook struggling to say something.

“I could be so much better to you.” He sounded as if he were going to cry. “You don’t deserve to be treated that way, _____. Please tell me you’ll leave him. I’m scared for you.”

You felt him looking at your face now and you were almost afraid to look at him as you put the final touches on his hand. His eyes were pleading when you finally looked at him.

If you couldn’t love him back, he at least wanted you to promise him that you’d leave the asshole.

He was right. All this time when he tried to keep you close and you pushed him away, he was in fear for your life. The person you thought should care for you could not care less, and the person that loved you the most was a phone call away and your best friend. You were blind to what you had when Cheol made himself the center of your universe. But Jungkook was loyal when he didn’t need to be, always there when you needed to fall into his arms no matter how much it hurt to see you walk out of his door.

Many nights he’d cry knowing you were going back into the clutches of Cheol and he was helpless to do anything. He’d daydream about killing Cheol or waiting for him to get off work and punch him in the face as he tried to get in his car. Yes, he was thinking extremely, but he was afraid.

Tonight was the last straw for Jungkook.

“I’d never hurt you, ____,” he said, lowly, defeated.

You loooked at the front of his jacket, focused on his buttons as you tried to distract yourself.

“I love you, too,” you murmured.

Jungkook leaned forward and placed a soft kiss to your forehead, then to your temple, and the top of your cheekbone. Your eyes fluttered shut as he softly placed his hands under your jaw, holding you gently, fingers barely grazing your skin as he kissed across your nose. You leaned your face into one of his hands and he took the moment to tilt your face upwards as he placed a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“I want to show you what love should feel like, _____,” he whispered against your lips, but he wasn’t touching you.

You shivered. It had been so long since someone treated you this way and honestly it scared you. If you mess up something would he be mad at you? You felt as if you were always doing something wrong.

He seemed to feel your apprehension and sighed, not out of frustration, but a sadness he couldn’t seem to shake. Cheol had effectively beaten you basically to nothing, mostly mentally. He wanted to be angry again, but he needed to hold back for you.

He placed his lips softly against yours, not expecting anything from you. He let you take your time as you kissed him back. Happiness began to bubble in his chest as you reciprocated his feelings.

This felt right. Jungkook wasn’t rushing you. He didn’t expect anything from you. He wasn’t demanding you to pleasure him. He let you lead as you kissed him. It heated fast as you sat a little straighter and wrapped an arm around his neck. His arm wrapped around your waist as he pulled you closer, but the limited space in the bathroom and your legs kept him from getting much closer.

He stood swiftly, bringing you with him and guided you to your room, working on muscle memory as he focused on you the whole way. You felt shy under his gaze since half the time Cheol didn’t even want to look at you. He studied you as if you would fall apart at any moment. His fingers intwined with yours and he was gentle. He didn’t reach for your wrist or your arm or grip you so tightly that his fingers dug into your skin. You began to relax little by little as he stood you in front of your bed. He reached for the hem of your dress and looked at you for permission. You nodded slowly as he started to pull the dress up passed your hips and you raised your arms to help him. He stopped and removed his jacket and then his jeans followed by his shirt, putting you on equal ground.

“Are you okay?” He seemed genuinely concerned as he kept his movements slow, not wanting to startle or rush you. He ran his hand softly up your arm and squeezed your shoulder gently before pulling you into his warm embrace. The skin on skin contact comforted you and it brought back memories of nights snuggled up next to Jungkook before Cheol came into your life and ruined that. For the first time in months you didn’t feel scared or useless. Jungkook’s actions said it all.

He held you there for a few moments, ensuring you were okay. He knew you were vulnerable and didn’t want you to think he was taking advantage of you.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered.

You felt a small sob get stuck in your throat.

“You’re wonderful, and smart, and the most adventurous person I know. Remember the first we did something together out of town? You convinced me to go ghost hunting at that abandoned hospital and all we found was a family of raccoons and a homeless guy.”

He laughed as a you giggled a little, sniffing, and smiling as you remembered Jungkook’s screams when the raccoon walked up behind him.

He ran his fingers through your hair and massaged the back of your head as you leaned against his chest.

“I love the way you look in the morning when you first wake up, like a steamed bun.”

You laughed again.

“Or the way you sing in the shower. I must say you have improved over the years. I love when you put my blanket in the dryer before I come over and it’s cold out. Those ham sandwiches?! I don’t know what you put on them, but I’d fight a kid over one if I had to.”

Your laugh was music. This is what he wanted. He wanted all of you. He wanted you to know that all of you was worth having, that you meant something, a human being deserving of love. He had loved you for years, but your friendship meant more to him than his silly feelings. Seeing you suffer made him regret not saying anything sooner.

“Can I show you?” he asked.

You knew what he meant. He didn’t have to say more as you pulled him into another kiss in affirmation. He reached behind you, snapping the clasp easily, and slid the straps of your bra down your shoulders, letting it fall. He had seen you naked hundreds of times for various reasons, but never this. Now, you were in front of him giving yourself to him and he was elated to get the chance. He cupped your breast lightly and squeezed a little, testing your limits. You moaned and leaned into him, nipping at his bottom lip. He moaned into the kiss as you buried your hands in his hair. He then wrapped his arms around you, gently laying you back amongst the blankets without breaking the kiss. He kissed the underside of your jaw, nipped gently at the skin of your neck, and placed small kisses to your breast before wrapping his lips around your nipple. Your skin tingled as he sucked gently and ran his tongue over it. Your whines spurred him on as you held on tighter and arched your back into him. He caressed every inch of skin he could reach. The soft gauze tickled across your skin as his hand glided down to your thigh. He directed his kisses between your chest now, kissing down your stomach. He was worshipping your body the way it was meant to be. He noticed some older bruises sprinkled across your skin and made sure to kiss every single one, soothing your anxiety. His fingers caught in the band of your underwear and pulled them down. Using the back of his hand, he pushed gently against your inner thigh and you spread your legs for him. You felt shy, but all once wholly comfortable. He had seen the best and worst parts of you, what was one more thing? This felt intimate in a different way, on a deeper level. He understood your body before he even got to touch you. Hands gripping the insides of your thighs, he kissed along the flesh there.

Some years ago, you were standing in the kitchen washing dishes, wearing one of Jungkook’s discarded shirts, and a pair of shorts. He had walked in to give you a glass when he looked down and ran his finger up a stretch mark on your thigh.

“I like these,” he had said with a smile before walking from the room.

The memory warmed you now as he placed wet kisses to the dimpled and marked expanse of your thighs. He blew a stream of warm air over your wet center and you moaned and shuddered. You tried closing your legs so you could feel some friction, but he kept your thighs apart with a firm hand. He moved his hands further up your inner thighs, almost cupping your sex as he flattened his hands and spread you to get a better look.

“You’re fucking beautiful, ____. You know that right?”

He watched your face twist as he teased you. Knowing that you wanted him had him grinding his own hips into the blanket. No. He wanted to feel you around him before he reached any sort of end. He licked up your center and you moaned gutturally, grabbing at your own breasts as you bent your knees to frame his head. He kept you spread as he covered you with his mouth, tongue dancing along your clit. Your juices mixed with his spit and his chin practically dripped with it all. He had never tasted anything better. The sounds you were giving him were like an orchestra of angels. He wanted you to feel his adoration as he ate you out with fervor. He dipped his tongue inside of you and soon his name was rolling off your tongue like raindrops.

“A-ah, Jungkook,” you sighed as he inserted his middle finger inside of you.

You swallowed him in a velvety wetness that had his cock twitching amongst the cotton, and he ground his hips, moaning into your cunt as he thought about you swallowing his cock. You cried out as his moans stimulated something inside of you that had you teetering on the edge of a cataclysmic orgasm. Cheol never bothered to do this to you. He either used your mouth or your cunt, whether you came or not. You couldn’t remember the last time you had an orgasm. Jungkook was moaning more now, working his finger up inside of you, and suckling at your swollen clit. You felt as if you couldn’t breathe as your body tensed, orgasm hitting you with a force you hadn’t felt in a while. He continued licking and lapping at you as if he wanted every drop, nudging his perfectly sloped nose into your sensitive clit.

“P-please,” you stuttered. You watched him through half closed eyes as he took a few long licks up your cunt before licking his own lips and smiling at you. He reached for your hands, intertwining your fingers as he kissed up your stomach again.

He let go of your hand to push your hair off your sweaty forehead and placed a kiss on the end of your nose.

“Please what?” he asked you before placing a quick kiss on your lips.

“Make love to me?”

His eyes slid shut slowly as he replayed the phrase a thousand times in quick successions. He was kissing you again. Passionately. He grabbed the base of his cock and rubbed the head up and down your slit, coating the tip. You moaned and circled your hips wanting more of him. He pushed in slowly, face nestled into your neck, committing to memory every feeling he was experiencing right now.

“I love you so much, ____,” he murmured against your skin.

Your fingernails dug into the skin of his back, the other hand tangled in his hair and holding him against your chest.

“Fuck, Jungkook, oh my god.” You were gasping as he stretched you and reached places Cheol only thought he could. “I love you.”

He pressed into you further as he brought his stomach down to yours. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his ass trying to get him even deeper. He grunted as he began to slowly thrust into you, concentrating on not coming too soon.

You ground your hips upwards, rotating just a little with each thrust. Your hand slipped along his back as sweat formed on his skin. His breathing quickened as he thrust faster and faster. His fingers were intwined with yours, your hand on the pillow above you while his other arm was reached underneath you and holding the hair at your nape.

“F-fuck-k.” You had him stuttering as you squeezed around him. For years he wondered what you felt like, jealous of any guy you were dating but too chicken shit to ask you out himself. Now you were here, still trusting him to protect you, and giving yourself fully.

“I want you to come, baby.” He gripped your hair hard and you moaned. Your fingers tightened in his and he felt so euphoric he wouldn’t even have cared if he didn’t get to come, but you had him so hungry for you that he wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to last. He released your hair to bring his hand between the two of you and pressing a couple of fingers against your clit.

You gasped loudly as he began to circle your clit slowly and then faster and faster. Your toes curled inwards and you dug yours heels even harder into him as he snapped his hips against you quickly. He skillfully moved his fingers on your clit while biting the space beneath your ear. You were seeing stars before your eyes rolled back and you were forced to close them. You could swear that your body was checking out. You felt high and Jungkook was your drug of choice. He felt you tighten around him and he could practically feel your impending orgasm.

“That’s it, baby, come on my cock. God I wanna make you feel like this forever.”

The sincerity in his voice, his cock brushing every erogenous zone there was, and his fingers sent your orgasm soaring. Electricity seemed to flow from where you were connected to your limbs where your fingers and toes tingled.

“Oh, fuck,” Jungkook breathed as he quickened his thrusts. “Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.” His voice almost became a whine as he thrust harder and harder, hand gripping your waist, and singing praises about you against your skin.

You felt his cum as he filled you up. His moan was long and deep, thrusting, and milking himself inside of you. You were his now and he wasn’t letting you go.

When the stimulation became too much, he stilled inside of you. His breathing started to even out and soon the only sounds was your soft breathing. After a few minutes had passed and you had suspected him to be drifting, he sat up and looked down at you.

“Let me protect you,” he said softly, voice trailing off at the end.

You believed him. You relaxed for the first time in what felt like months. You could finally be yourself with no repercussions and Jungkook was adamant in making you feel as loved as possible. You tried to hold back your tears but the dam broke when he looked at you so lovingly.

“Baby, _____,” he cooed as he used his thumb to brush away a few tears.

You clung to him desperately, feeling as if he were to let go, you’d be exposed to more harm. He shifted to his side and pulled you into his chest, drawing his legs inwards to curl you even closer to him.

“Don’t leave me,” you whispered. He could hear the fear laced in your tone. His heart ached and tightened in his chest.

“Never,” he said, kissing the top of your head.

It wouldn’t be easy getting you back to the carefree person he once knew, but he was willing to take the time. Being there for you had always been his focus, so a little setback was all he needed to be with you that much more. His wish was for you to get your confidence back, to see you dancing in the kitchen while making pancakes, and to see that sparkle in your eye when you looked at him. It would take time, but for you, he was willing to wait an eternity.

#ksmutclub #smutcentralnet #btswriterscollective #bangtanarmynet #bts smut #jungkook smut #nonidol!au #tw: abuse #tw: mental abuse #bts angst #jungkook #jungkook x reader #reader insert

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wincore · 4 years

Text

youngblood | lee donghyuck

pairing: haechan x reader

words: 9.1k

genre: ‘bad boy’!au, fluff, angst(?)

warnings: language, juvenile crimes (do NOT try shoplifting, speeding and vandalism, kids)

a/n: okay omg i finally got around to editing this and you guys should know by now this au doesn’t mean he’s bad and just.........annoying........... (also it follows troublemaker’s style but like............it might just be my fav troublemaker part aaaa)

The first day you meet Lee Donghyuck, he picks a fight with you. Or you pick a fight with him.

That’s not how the first day of high school should have gone.

It surprised you, just a little, to be toe-to-toe with someone so easily. Did he like picking fights for fun? You looked him up and down, the ink over his forearm meant to be shown and a strange friendliness in his eyes. Not exactly the bully type, you weren’t sure what to make of him. Movies spoil reality when it comes to things like this. Rumors are even worse. You took a slow gulp anyway, Donghyuck’s eyes on you unnerving.

He leaned in slightly to match your height. His tone was lilting and he phrased his words light-heartedly, a pretence you found funny. “I have no interest in you, kid. I’m going to keep it that way.”

“We’re the same age, you know?”

Your reply went unheard. It was just misunderstanding that got you there—you mistook his locker for yours and it’s not your fault you happen to have the same passcode (a little weird though, definitely). Lee Donghyuck said if you were allowed to take what’s his, he should have the same privilege, the word thief at the tip of his tongue. He was a little daunting, you suppose—taller than you were, in all black and several piercings and tattoos poking out on wrists. Maybe it was the undulating rage of being fourteen and at the stage of heavy regret in later years, maybe it was the wariness around strangers. You weren’t quite afraid of him; just that a fight on your first day didn’t seem like a very bright start in a new city. Although you assured him you didn’t touch his stuff, you handed him your bear-shaped keychain. (“You can have this if you want a gift so bad.”)

When Donghyuck laughed, giving it back almost immediately with a cheeky grin—you couldn’t decide whether to let the confusion show on your face.

“Don’t be a pushover, newbie.”

You frowned. “Who’re you calling a pushover?”

You don’t remember the rest of it but you found it very hard to not have mixed feelings about him. You’re trying to have a normal fun high school life for fuck’s sake. You didn’t think he was the awful sort of person—but it was almost as if he was trouble’s very own lovechild. There are better weapons against him than falling into pointless playfights.

Lee Donghyuck. Funny guy.

The school bully image was a lie, no doubt spread by someone more than annoyed with his antics. Of course, Lee Donghyuck either didn’t care or didn’t know, wits always about him like some sort of eccentric defence mechanism.

You admire him in a way, but you wouldn’t be caught dead telling him that.

Lee Donghyuck is popular, full of jokes and fun but a little rough on the edges all the same. But you have to assume he must have some demonic heritage. You could say you have a strange relationship—friends but not. You hate him but don’t. While you’re sure there’s at least a little bit of sunshine hidden beneath those black T-shirts and inked skin, there’s a bit more than hidden sides to young troublemakers—things that don’t involve misunderstanding.

Lee Donghyuck looks like danger. (And danger attracts attention of all kinds, you’d noticed in a few unfortunate heart-eyed classmates.) You’ve seen him in enough fights to have respect for him, making you wonder why he doesn’t join the debate team already. It might have something to do with how his victorious smile gets on everyone’s nerves, the way they groan at Donghyuck’s sudden affections afterward. They don’t hate him—mostly. He’s honest and he knows exactly how to press people. That doesn’t change the innocence in his arrogance or the clear distinction of his spirit.

Of course there are bad people; Donghyuck just isn’t one of them. He just tries too hard to look cool. (“Sunflower,” he’d called you, pulling a face. “I know you’re dense. But maybe start being afraid of me so you don’t ruin my reputation.”)

The sunlight falls against the web of your thumb, your fingers rapidly moving to match the pace of the game on your phone. Five minutes to class, you’ve got nothing better to do.

“What, trying to beat my high score again?” Donghyuck pulls the chair beside you to sit, his arms resting on the desk as he continues to stare at you.

“Believe me, Donghyuck, not everything I do is for you,” you chuckle, tapping on the play again button, catching the look on his face out of the corner of your eye.

Donghyuck looks visibly irked and you think maybe your decision to be so annoyingly passive has been the right one if it bothers him. Ah, but you won’t tell him that. You’re having the time of your life this way.

“Well,” Donghyuck begins but frowns instead. “Whatever.”

It’s not every day you get to win—Donghyuck does get under your skin. You just don’t have to show it. Sometimes his own friends decide they’ve had enough, the classroom shenanigans making you laugh. You don’t want to get started on the chaos that unfurls every time Donghyuck walks into class and straight up picks a fight with anyone in his eyesight—even Jaemin has his “Lee Donghyuck!” moments. Donghyuck is friends with everyone and that means he gets to get on everyone’s nerves.

You smile to yourself thinking of Donghyuck yawning deliberately at Renjun trying to make a point. Call him a demon, call him a disgrace; he knows how to make people laugh.

You pass Red’s diner on your way back home, as usual, the unusual red and white checkers replacing the normal concrete sidewalk by it. It’s always soothed you to see bright colours in this side of the city, the beige and coffee aesthetic far too dominating for its cause—something to keep up with the larger, fancier (more pretentious) metropolises. It’s also the oldest; your friends told you the number of baby pictures everyone has on the wine-coloured couches is, in more appropriate words, fucking astounding.

You wish you’d moved here earlier. The thing about little cities is just that—they’re not all that little. Something everyone seemingly loves to boast about, the romance of a small town and its delicate simplicities. It’s nothing alike. You’d know. You enjoy it more here. You like all the food outlets and stores lining the streets and further up, less congestion and more dog parks—all places you love breezing through in your free time. There’s an amusement park too, a forty-minute drive away into the middle of nowhere and if you’re not mistaken, the city centre has the best clubs and bars. Sunshine drips through every nook and cranny—it’s everything you’d expected a city to be.

You stop in your tracks at the sight of distinct brown curls in the alleyway between buildings. Donghyuck doesn’t seem to be in the best of situations, a tougher, much larger guy shoving him against the wall. They seem to be speaking, and something about Donghyuck’s smile doesn’t give you a good feeling about what’s going to happen.

Before the guy’s fist meets Donghyuck’s cheek, you yell, two pairs of eyes shifting focus to you. You feel your heartbeat quicken, Donghyuck raising his eyebrow and shooting you a confused look.

“Don’t- don’t hurt him,” you say, cursing at the meekness of your voice.

The larger man laughs, a sound like nails on a chalkboard and you cringe. Donghyuck mouths at you to get away but immediately shuts up when the man turns to him again.

“You got a little lover come here to protect you?” he says, looking at Donghyuck with amusement.

“No, that’s not—”

“I hate little brats like you,” he huffs, shoving Donghyuck once more, this time a little harder. He lets out a pained whine, eyes squeezing shut as he drops on his knees.

You take a hesitant step back when the man makes his way to you, blood rushing to your ears when he raises his hand. Your arms go up by instinct and you’re met with a hard push, falling to the ground with a whimper.

You’re picked up by the collar, struggling to not let fear show on your face.

“Tell your boyfriend to stop messing around my store, okay, sweetheart?” he threatens, voice lower.

With that, he drops you and leaves, the adrenaline in you not quite down yet.

“Donghyuck?” you call, worried as you spot him lying still in the alleyway. You’re about to get up and go to him when he responds, whimsical as ever.

“I’m okay!” He raises his hand with a peace sign and you sigh, annoyed.

“Really?! What were you even doing?”

“I ate some cookies for free, big deal,” he says before he suddenly raises his head with a lopsided grin. “Is sunflower worried about me?”

You groan, dusting yourself as you get up and walk over to him. You throw him a light kick at the side to which he whines overdramatically and scrunches his face into something pained. Lee Donghyuck could be hit by a bus and he’d play it off with fingers guns and eyebrow wiggling.

“Become a chainsaw-juggler or something if you want to do something dangerous,” you complain, “And get up!”

Donghyuck wrinkles his nose. “As always, you have such boring ideas.”

He does get up the next moment, although with a large show of holding his back and several whines about near-death experiences as if he’s not the one bringing it upon himself. You’re sure his back is bruised but he doesn’t acknowledge it as anything more than a joke. There’s also a gash on his cheek he must have received earlier. It’s no surprise he has a fresh batch of wounds—you think he spends more time in the nurse’s office than in actual classes.

“Why do you pick fights with people clearly stronger than you?” you grumble as he dusts himself off.

“Oh, don’t misunderstand me,” Donghyuck says, straightening, “I would’ve got out of this pretty clean without you.”

You roll your eyes. “Sure thing.”

Donghyuck frowns, a huff leaving his mouth.

“I don’t mean to brag but that guy would have been running for his life if you hadn’t butt in,” he shrugs, trying to sound less ruffled.

You laugh at his expression, forgetting about your bruised arms for a moment.

“You should treat me,” you say, the thought passing your head. You don’t have change and you’re really craving some strawberry milk.

He scoffs. “For what?”

“For saving you.”

You expected a retort, at least. Donghyuck pauses for a moment before a worrying grin floats up on his face. “Sure. Come with me.”

You narrow your eyes at him but follow nonetheless, walking side by side. The sunlight makes his skin glow, the hue on his cheeks perfect were it not for the dried blood from the gash. His eyes shine when he smiles, mischief or not, when he’s telling you about how you should try vandalism and robbery sometimes, they’re pretty fun. It’s a Donghyuck trait—to be able to live like this and still call it fun. You look at his lips once and immediately look away. What a silly thought. They’re regrettably pretty, though, despite being busted often. The sun has been kind to Donghyuck, with the colour of his skin full and the confidence you’d only find in someone made of sun flares.

So that’s why.

You stare at the motorbike parked at a clearly No Parking area, the metallic red gleaming under the late afternoon sun. You’ve never been on one before but something tells you Donghyuck would traumatise you far too much to try again. You cannot agree to get on that.

“Hop on,” he instructs.

You hesitate. “Where are we going?”

“To the centre, of course.” He smiles brightly. “There’s a bunch of bakeries and eateries over there.”

“You can just buy me some strawberry milk from a vending machine around.”

“Well, I forgot my wallet,” he says, looking up to think, “I left it at my job.”

You furrow your eyebrows, not believing a word. It’s Lee Donghyuck after all, the opposite of predictable, and arguing with him will only cost you your breath.

“A motorbike and no leather jacket?” You smile, regaining your composure. “I mean, not everyone can pull off the leather jacket, of course.”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes overstatedly. “I don’t expect you to be smarter but stereotypes? Wow.”

You do get on the bike, however, with some pushing on Donghyuck’s side. More importantly, you somehow don’t end up traumatised despite what you supposed. It felt good, wind in your hair and although your legs were stuck to the sides of the bike like glue, you found yourself enjoying the scene around you speeding by. The fact that Donghyuck can be careful was beyond your knowledge and understanding.

The buildings are a little taller here and while you’ve been here before, the sight never fails to make your heartbeat quicken. There’s something inevitably calling about this place. You’d love to explore when there are nightlights around each corner.

“Your wallet?” you remind Donghyuck.

Donghyuck feigns surprise, gasping. “Right! It was in my pocket. But I have no money.”

“What? We came all the way here for nothing?!”

“No. I have a plan.” Donghyuck grins, pointing towards the pretty glass door of the bakery across the street.

“Oh no,” you say quietly as the realization dawns, “We’re not stealing.”

“Then you came all the way here for nothing.”

You sigh heavily into your hands as Donghyuck tries to sweeten his grin, clearly trying to convince you.

“You really don’t have to be this annoying, you know that?”

“It’s a choice,” he says, pulling a face, “And I do it because I excel at it, thank you very much.”

You reluctantly follow Donghyuck into the bakery, people bustling in and out, mostly for their fix of evening coffee or tea. There are photo frames around pictures of coffee beans, tea leaves and pastries, all against a soft orange wallpaper. It’s not as small as it looked from outside, you realize, with its capacity for people quite enough. The smell of chocolate is predominant, hazelnut and coffee wafting in from the left side.

“Free samples!” Donghyuck gasps, before turning to whisper to you, “You know we can try one of each, right? That saves us some trouble.”

You’d be lying if his lips so close to your ears didn’t make you jump a little. You take short steps behind him as he eagerly walks to the counter.

“Ah, is this a new type?” Donghyuck asks, beaming at the woman behind the counter. She raises an eyebrow at the ear piercings and tattoos, gracing him with a smile nonetheless.

While he’s engaged in conversation, you stare at the two of them confused till you’re met with a light kick at your foot. You give Donghyuck a dirty look, who keeps pointing towards the samples with his hands under the counter.

“You’re supposed to shove some into your bag, you know?” he leans in to whisper, exasperated, when the lady leaves to enter the pantry.

“Well, how was I supposed to know, genius?” you shoot back, crossing your arms.

Donghyuck looks around nervously before taking a few of the tarts and carefully placing them in your bag.

“Don’t move too much or you’ll crush them,” he warns in a hush.

The woman returns again, with a warmer smile and Donghyuck goes back to his clever, silver-tongued words. He’s so awful, you think. But you can’t deny the exhilaration in your chest, a giddy feeling of doing the wrong thing in a way that feels right.

You end up having the free samples afterward, pretending to contemplate buying as the woman looks at the two of you expectantly. It’s delicious, sweet chocolate manipulating your taste buds to want another bite almost immediately after you’re done.

“We do offer couple discounts, too!” she says, beaming.

There it is again, the unsettling implications—accusations almost. Since when do the two of you look like a couple? You’re obviously too young to be looking the sort of way most lovers do and where the fuck do they see any love anyway?

“Uh,” Donghyuck begins but can’t seem to form a sentence.

Before either of you can say anything, the woman is called by another customer and you look at each other at the same time.

“We should go,” he says, quickly, “before they realize we’re not buying anything.”

You nod and sneak out of the shop as quickly as you walked in, Donghyuck suddenly picking up the pace till you’re at least a few blocks away.

“You’re so slow,” Donghyuck teases, laughing when you reach him, out of breath. He adjusts his shirt, dark as always, such that it doesn’t stick out of his pants awkwardly anymore. The tattoos on his left arm catch your eye, muscles beneath flexing as his moves his arm, a strange pattern of ink. You don’t think they’re real if you’re being honest—that field of sunflowers. They’re too pretty.

You’re so annoying, you think, despite the smile forming on your face as you follow him down the lane.

What a frustrating personality, the thought crosses you at night, as you kick away the blanket at your feet. He ended up paying for some ice cream at a nearby shop anyway, right after you’d finished having your stolen goods by the dog park. He said summer needs some ice and he’ll oblige just this once with whatever few notes he has left. (“Summer just ended, idiot.” “I can’t hear you.”) The first bite had immediately given him brain freeze, a whine escaping his lips as he held his head in an attempt to soothe it. You found it cute—yes, cute, a terrible choice of words for him. It doesn’t mean anything, you tell yourself. It’s almost within his personality to intrude upon your thoughts like this—gods, you hate even the letters of his name that form so easily in front of your eyes.

The buzz from your phone gives you a fright as you quickly open it to two texts from Donghyuck. You adjust the brightness before you read it, your heartbeat embarrassing you at its rate.

demon child, 11:36 PM

btw today wasn’t a treat you still have to pay me

food is expensive you know

You smile. A part of you warns you shouldn’t.

demon child, 11:37 PM

or you can pay for next time

Your smile drops. Next time? What is this, a date? You shake your head instinctively. Like you’d make it out alive of a date with Lee Donghyuck.

you, 11:37 PM

sure thing little stingy man

demon child, 11:38 PM

wow that was fast do you like me or something

You roll your eyes. You might have really decked Donghyuck in the jaw in another timeline, where you knew how to deck someone in the jaw.

You feel a certain static in your heart, hoping you’re mistaken as you respond to his texts for the rest of the night. Lee Donghyuck needs to have the last word all the time, and you lose count of how many times you huff, only giving in when the tiredness in your eyes seeps to the rest of your body.

You think you smile in your sleep that night but you can’t be sure.

The thing about bad days is that you notice nothing outside of them when you’re having them—but you forget you ever even had them when you’re not.

You end up at school with a lack of will to pay attention to classes. It’s well into the semester, and that means it’s time for you to get to some serious studying, except, well, you can’t. You’re decent at academics—or so you’d like to think. You’re average at best and there’s a nagging thought eating away at your brain at a painfully slow rate.

The college application deadlines are near.

It doesn’t help to be second and third best at almost everything. You nod along to everything Jihyun is saying; really, he aces every subject without trying. His words aren’t exactly…encouraging. You thought his notes would be your ticket to a dream college except he’s not quite the person you should be asking help from.

You’re suddenly not sure about all the friendly competitions you’re running.

You’re starting to feel too worked up these days, worry tugging at the back of your head every moment. It’s lonely when your friends are busy with their own struggles so you stay quiet. You’re a big kid, you tell yourself, you got this.

Except you really don’t.

“Woah,” Donghyuck interrupts you and Jihyun. “You look like you used the dryer on the wrong setting.”

Sometimes, it’s really not the best of situations to have your seat beside Donghyuck. You glare at him, keeping your notebook on the table with a loud ‘SLAM!’ You turn your head to find him smiling. Oh, he better not start now.

“Ah, (name),” he says, grinning, “what’s got you so upset today?”

“Nothing,” you insist, trying your best to control your scowl.

It’s been two weeks since you ‘hung out’ (committed minor crimes) at the bakery. Your friendly bickering since then has been not-so-friendly, you think with a grimace. He’s been getting under your skin—not a favourable thing when you’re against Lee Donghyuck.

“(name).”

You look up to see Jihyun, almost always devoid of any emotion behind the eyes—even if he’s smiling.

“The notes you asked for,” he says, keeping the notes on your table and turning around, almost as if he’s glad to be rid of conversation.

“Oh, and,” Jihyun turns back around. “If you’re hoping to get into any college at all, I hope you keep the right company.”

There’s contempt in his voice and your eyes trail to Donghyuck’s, a little confused if not bothered. You shouldn’t be surprised to find him grinning, laughing almost. You think Donghyuck’s confidence is a good substitute for a leather jacket.

“Hey, come on now.” Donghyuck leans back in his seat, smiling like a kid. You wonder where all that sunshine’s coming from. “Are you still mad about me beating you at that MUN thing?”

Jihyun smiles. “Don’t jump to conclusions. I wasn’t referring to you, of course. And there’s worse things you’ve done.”

Your teacher walks in, drawing everyone’s attention instead as they scurry back to their seats. Donghyuck’s eyes linger on you for a second longer, his face blanched before he turns away and rests his chin on his palm. You think you weren’t supposed to steal so many glances at him throughout the class.

The day somehow manages to draw energy out of you even further. Worries aside, Jihyun’s been strangely demanding—are you even that close? Should he be asking you to bring things this way? Should he be making you run errands? You’re so close to losing it before you realize you can’t. He’s helping you, sort of. You groan into your hands during break, ignoring Donghyuck’s eyebrow raise from beside you. It’s unfair and while you’re sure it’s all light-hearted, you have another name to curse when you run into a problem. Ah, the scorn of high school kids is truly incomparable.

You almost sigh in relief at the last ring of the bell for the day, getting up a little too enthusiastically. You get some admonishment from the teacher at that but you forget once you’ve reached the gates, almost running out faster than your friends. They let you go with a laugh, your desire to get home and take a nap triumphing every other thing on your mind. Some days are meant to be forgotten.

Cursed as you are, you bump into Donghyuck a few blocks from the bus stop. He adjusts the collar of his plaid shirt in a hurry, the black T-shirt underneath so worn out, you wonder how many years he’s been wearing that. The symbol on his baseball cap is probably related to a demon cult, you think. It being related to a metal band is also a possibility.

“(name),” he says, grinning. “What a coincidence.”

“Don’t pick a fight now, demon,” you huff before he can continue.

“I didn’t even say anything.” He raises his arms defensively. “Yet.”

You have the intense desire to punch him. When did the tables turn to this? Weren’t you supposed to be the calm one?

“You had fun running errands for President Snob?” he snickers.

“Well, I didn’t want to,” you say, your shoulders dropping, annoyed as you are. It makes you a little upset for something to affect you that much. You wish you were like the kids who barely cared about things like college applications, enjoying life either way. You wish you didn’t have this strange pretence of a person you are. You wish you were like Donghyuck.

There’s a pause.

“Come on. Don’t let anyone push you around like that.” His voice comes off as exasperated. Donghyuck isn’t the kind of person to let worry show.

You look up, a little surprised. Before you can open your mouth, he cuts you off.

“There’s some festival going on at the centre,” he says with a shrug. “Lots of food trucks. Wanna come?”

You furrow your eyebrows, a frown taking shape over your lips.

“Stealing off others doesn’t exactly make me feel good about myself,” you say, hugging yourself. As fun as the adrenaline rush was, it’s better to stick to morals, whatever they may be.

“I’ll pay,” he says, his smile incredulous. “I promise.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What, you got a credit card lying around somewhere?”

“Nope,” he responds, rolling his eyes. “No credit card. Don’t believe in money.”

“Then how do you plan on paying?” you ask, frustrated.

“Trust me,” he whispers, urging you to follow him.

It turns out Donghyuck happens to know every food outlet in the city and also happens to have been kicked out of half of them, which is oddly impressive. He’s also worked several jobs in local eateries, the old ladies more than fond of him. (“Who wouldn’t find my charming smile adorable?”)

“You hobgoblin,” you exclaim, huffing. His story about vandalism on the bleachers shouldn’t have been as amusing, or endearing, for that matter.

“According to our lovely folklore, hobgoblins can warm your heart,” he replies, as-a-matter-of-factly.

“That is definitely not true. You just have to respond with something, don’t you?”

“And what of it?”

A (surprisingly) within-speed-limits bike ride away, you end up in a flurry of colours and crowds—you gasp at the large line of food trucks lining the pathway leading to the people’s square. You’ve never seen this before, looking from place to place. A lot of them look like they’ve come from pretty far.

At the square, there are wooden stalls of food out for trial by the people, shopkeepers encouraging the few tourists there are to try the local food. You spot various fishcakes, dumplings and street toast with glimpses of strawberry and banana milk decorating the stands in between. There are old upbeat songs playing through the speakers attached to the electricity poles, faint enough to be drowned out by crowds but loud enough to enjoy a little dance to. You didn’t realize you were smiling till you turned around to see an amused look on Donghyuck’s face.

Time only seems to fly—like when you’re done with your favourite song and it just wasn’t long enough so you hit repeat. The truth is, a song is barely four minutes—and yet you feel like you saw a movie, a story in it; so very curious because you were so sure it was too short.

Donghyuck walks side by side with you to where his bike is parked. (You wonder if he ever travels without it. Gas isn’t exactly cheap.) There’s little distance between the two of you, something neither of you seems to notice. You bite into the sugar candy, the sudden crack sound in the quiet lane making the two of you laugh despite the surge of sugar on your tongue. You forget what you were talking about.

“Why do you even steal, Donghyuck?” You ask softly. You paid for some food today, some were free samples and mostly, there was nothing illegal involved. Donghyuck didn’t particularly want to cause trouble either. You don’t want to be a bad judge of character.

“Because I can.”

What an expected answer. Is there anything Donghyuck can’t do?

“Don’t you feel bad?” You raise an eyebrow. He’s always been so confusing, but when he starts to make sense, you feel like you should’ve seen it that way in the first place.

“Are you talking about our sweet bakery? You really think a company as big as theirs would notice some free samples are missing?” Donghyuck says, making a face. “In a city no one cares about?”

You don’t say anything, puffing your left cheek in contemplation.

“Look, I could spend the rest of my life looting as much as my arms could carry and I would never be able to make my crimes pose even the smallest threat to a single shitty millionaire.” Donghyuck waves his hands about in a gesture that implies indifference.

You suppose he’s right, walking up to him and continuing your journey up.

“I’m not justifying myself,” he says, voice softer, shoulders relaxed. “Stealing’s bad. Other people are affected. I know. It’s just that I like having more choices than they give us. We should try everything we can, you know?”

Is that why he’s always up to something? Flitting from club to club in school, running around the entire city like it’s his own?

He shakes himself immediately, cringing. “Ah. Ew. I can’t believe you’re getting to my head, sunflower. Yuck. You’re ruining me. Did I just monologue?”

“Oh, okay.” You cross your arms. “That’s my fault now. It’s a good thing to be honest, asshole.”

“La, la, la.” Donghyuck puts his fingers in his ears, sticking out his tongue. “Can’t lecture me if I can’t hear you.”

You punch his shoulders, his laugh accompanying the evening blooming in full colours above you as you forget you’re already on your journey back.

You reach Red’s before nightfall, a sort of pitstop for kids like you when it’s time to go home before the night soaks into you. Donghyuck feels lighter in his chest as he enters, the jingling pleasant and the smell of waffles even more so. He just can’t believe you’re the reason he’s here.

“Obviously, we’re going for chocolate waffles,” he says, crossing his arms.

The tables outside are better than the stuffy humid air inside. Donghyuck’s complaining didn’t let you take even a step inside.

“We just ate,” you reason, your eyebrows furrowed. “And honey is always better!”

“Eh, what do you know?” he says, resting his elbow against the table. “I was raised in this diner, newbie.”

“Yeah, you and a million other rats.”

He presses his tongue against his cheek to stop the smile, although he reckons he’s doing a terrible job of it.

Get yourself together, one voice pipes up in his head.

Or say it. Ask them out. Yeah, the other voice is a piece of shit. That’s not going to work out.

Donghyuck didn’t realize he’d fallen silent, a daze over his eyes. He blinks a few time to regain focus, the peach hue across your cheeks coming to his attention. It’s adorable, if he could just reach out and place his palm against your cheek, just lean over the table and—

Fuck. No way.

“Stop staring at me like some sleaze,” you huff, eyes flickering between him and the table.

“Why would I stare at you?” he retorts, resisting the heat on his face. “You’re not that pretty.”

“Right,” you say, rolling your eyes as you hold your arm.

The lights lining the eaves flicker on almost at the same time, the sky still in transitionary lilac and you look up with your lips parted, something akin to curiosity in your eyes. Pretty. It could just be the reflection of the lights though—Donghyuck’s not exactly the poetic type. He wants to curl his lips at the notion, but it’s not very smart to have all his thoughts show up on his face.

“Can we stay here a little longer?” you say, eyes still on the lights, occasionally shifting to the sky.

“Your parents will worry.” Donghyuck thinks for a moment before mumbling, “It’s not safe.”

“Then drop me home,” you say, your eyes shifting to meet his, an unusual confidence in them.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel the skip of his heartbeat.

Donghyuck thinks he should pat himself on the back for not speeding all the times you were with him on his bike. He loves the thing to death, although he’s had it for barely a year. The jolt of adrenaline and the freedom blooming in sprouts within his ribcage should be a dead giveaway to what he feels about speeding. Donghyuck’s never really cared about rules. Break them, bend them—it’s up to him and he loves that feeling of control. Whatever people think of him, they’re nowhere close to the truth. They’ll never know just how much he has everything under control.

Except you.

How annoying, he thinks to himself as he feels the speed picking up and your distant warmth behind him. He feels a little tingle in his chest, the way he always does when he gets the urge to do something reckless.

What if he were to speed up just a little? No, that would be childish. He should definitely not do that.

You wrap your arms around his waist with a squeak at the sudden jerk as he revs up the bike, a grin growing on his face despite his attempts to hold it back. You’re warm, compared to the sharp winds grazing him and he wants you to hold onto him like this a little longer. If he’s not childish now, when else will he be?

You hadn’t realized you’d fallen asleep, faint sunlight hiding behind the curtains ready to present the evening to you. A celebratory nap for the end of the deadlines that’s been haunting you overextended a little bit more than you’d anticipated. Just a few more weeks and it’s the finals and then, it’s all over. You stretch your hand out to switch on the lights, groaning when you can’t seem to reach it and reluctantly getting up.

You startle, a little yelp leaving your mouth at the knock on your window. What in hell? Either you haven’t slept enough or you slept too much.

You let out another yelp when you see Donghyuck’s face. There’s a band-aid over the line of his jaw starting to peel off and another one over the bridge of his nose. His hair looks recently washed, underneath the cap he’s wearing the right way for once, a pleasant smell wafting off him. You wonder what the occasion is for him to have cleaned up like this.

“Did you just climb up to my window?!”

There’s a pause.

“Yes.”

There’s another pause.

“Anyway,” he continues, “Since you’ve been enjoying my premium Haechan recommendations lately, I’ve got another plan for you.”

“Haechan?” You tilt your head. “Full sun? Is that why you call me sunflower?”

Donghyuck’s cheeks colour. “That’s- That’s not- We’re going to the club today!”

You find the sudden fluctuation in his voice cute. You suppress your smile, before giving in to his constant nagging for you to hurry up and follow him. (“Why would I get out through the window?” “Won’t your parents, like, kill me if they saw me at your front door?”)

There’s no bike today. In a way, you’re sad it isn’t there; the memory of your arms around Donghyuck making you feel hot in the cheeks for wanting it again.

“I finished my budget for fuel because of you,” he complains.

“No one asked you to be a show-off,” you retort.

He opens his mouth but says nothing, resorting to pull a face at you instead. Public transportation it is today. Even if there’s, what, nine subway stations in the city, Donghyuck seems to have already planned out the route. He walks with a bounce to his steps, turning around to walk backward facing you just to laugh and call you slow.

You run up the stairs to the station, another evening beginning something yet anew. The clouds disappear, replaced with the tiles of the station roof as Donghyuck eyes something in the distance.

“Oh no,” you say, your gaze traveling to wherever his is fixed. “We’re paying for the tickets. Hell, I’ll pay.”

Donghyuck grins at you and before he can make the stupid decision of jumping over the faregate, you grab the back of his collar, a choked sound leaving his mouth. You pull him by the sleeves of his hoodie to the ticket machines, relatively empty when the old folk use the ticket booths instead.

“You’ll go to jail if you murder me,” Donghyuck says, whining as he massages his neck. “It’s not pleasant, let me tell you that.”

“You’ve been?”

“Not yet.”

The club Donghyuck was talking about turns out to be more of a music joint, really. The letters ‘No Smoking’ spelled clearly beside the entrance, you eye the guard nervously. A rather skinny man who seems to be in his early twenties, you wonder how Donghyuck knows him as he lets the two of you in. You don’t have time to ask as you’re pulled in, a gasp barely leaving your mouth at the force.

It’s different inside. It’s not as dark as you’d expect, a rather mellow set of colours spread through the place. There’s a band playing songs from the 80s, the sound of indie rock pulsing through the place. Some people are dancing, some sitting at the round tables, looking as if they’re waiting for someone or, at the very least, a pretty stranger.

You look up at Donghyuck, a hum on his lips as he thinks.

“The song’s so boring,” he says finally. “Let’s change it.”

“It’s a live band, Donghyuck.” You deadpan. “You can’t press next here.”

“It’s called requesting, stupid.”

Donghyuck runs off before you can say anything, suddenly awkward about standing alone in a room full of people. You look around—the amount of people isn’t too much but at the same time it’s much more than you see in your average crowded room. Most of them are sitting, now that you see clearly, some with ramen on the tables, some with beer and chicken. There’s a bar at the other edge, people joking with each other over drinks.

You’re not sure how you’d describe it but it smells like people in here.

You look around further, curiously, at the beige wallpaper and vines decorating the edges—it’s larger than you thought a club would be. (But really, the only images you have are of purple and blue lighting on giant drunk crowds when you think of clubs.)

“Hey, pretty.”

You startle at the voice, an older man standing beside you. He seems to be a little old for a college kid, a rather impish look on his face with a very prominent grin.

“Uh, hi,” you say, unsure.

“You don’t come here often, do you?” He leans his left side against the wall.

“No, not really.” You’re a minor. Technically, you’re not even allowed in here.

Your nervousness seems to have shown up on your face because the guy straightens, a little smile on his face.

“Woah, don’t look so worried.” He laughs a little. There’s a scent of alcohol in his breath. “Will a friendly handshake make you feel better?”

You look on, a little unsure but definitely surprised. You go along with what he says, the movement of your hands in the childish pattern bringing a smile to your face till eventually, you’re laughing.

“I don’t mean to be too forward,” he says, “But you’re, like, a kid, right?”

You straighten, stammering out words of denial. You don’t want to be kicked out. You’ve never been kicked out of anything before.

“And that’s your boyfriend right there?” He asks, pointing over to Donghyuck having a conversation with the bass guitarist.

You think you turn pink, but you shake your head vehemently.

“Well, don’t worry, kid,” he says, laughing. “Enjoy it while you can. Not everyone gets to have a partner in crime.”

With that, he walks off to the bar after a wave of goodbye and a smile, making you wonder if adults really are the same as you. You smile a little to yourself.

You yelp when you’re grabbed by the arm, Donghyuck’s own arm linking through it.

“I’m gonna teach you how to dance,” he says, grinning. “Be prepared to thank me.”

You furrow your eyebrows at him and right when you open your mouth the next song starts with a drum solo. You look at the band, confused. They’re all grinning, however, and soon the song steadies into an upbeat sort of mood. You think you smile, but it’s probably just in the eyes.

“Eyes on me, loser,” Donghyuck says, smiling wide at you.

You turn back to him, an indescribable amount of emotions surging into you. Lee Donghyuck is a phenomenon of a person, you think, almost ready to voice it out loud.

More people join in with the dancing, the place seeming much fuller now that you see everyone up. You catch the man from earlier throwing you a wink and a finger gun in a friendly gesture. You laugh in response, Donghyuck complaining about your lack of focus. (If you’re being honest, you think he meant your lack of attention to him.)

You can’t count the minutes or hours—what’s the difference, really? Donghyuck smiles through his eyes, telling you you’re a terrible dancer (and that, of course, not everyone is born perfect like him). You learn to love the unknown songs, each note catching on to a new piece of your heart as Donghyuck shows you a move to copy, singing along gibberish lyrics to the songs he doesn’t know. It’s weird how you can mould into songs like this, songs you don’t even know—their beats pulling out different people and melodies making that person familiar.

There’s a soft halt when Donghyuck catches something through the corner of his eyes. He makes a face that spells out ‘yikes’ before leading you off the dance floor, snaking through the crowds till you’re back to the entrance.

“What’s wrong?” You say, eyes scanning his face.

“Oh, nothing, really,” he says, an unsure lilt to his voice.

Your question answers itself at the gruff voice barely audible over the music, a notch louder than when you’d entered.

“Hey, kid!”

Your heart jumps against your ribcage at the uniform of a police officer by the entrance, thinking whether everything really had to go wrong right now. Is underage dancing a crime? You didn’t drink and—oh, the entrance probably said 19+.

Donghyuck’s eyes flit from place to place looking for an escape when the officer confronts him, grabbing him by the shoulder.

“You’re the kid that’s been stealing around the shops, aren’t you?”

“Uh, no?” Donghyuck raises an eyebrow, the expression on his face almost comedic. “You’ve got the wrong kid, officer.”

“And what might you be doing in a club? Where’s your ID?”

“About that…”

Donghyuck pushes the man with his elbow, leg extending to trip him, catching him off guard. You’d even be impressed if the loud crash didn’t make you yelp in surprise, looking at the two of them with terrified incredulity.

Donghyuck takes off running almost immediately after before backtracking and gesturing at you exasperatedly. “You know you’re supposed to run when I run, right?”

“What the fuck just happe—”

Donghyuck doesn’t wait to explain, gripping your hand in his and tugging you to match his insane pace as you exit through the entrance.

It takes a while to reach the subway station even at that speed and with the distant shouts of the police officer prompting you to move faster. The sky’s much darker now—you think it must be well into late evening before night gets ready to clutch the time. Donghyuck moves with careful calculation, taking turns in places you have no clue about and soon you’re running up the stairs with your breath barely caught in your throat.

The station lights are dim but you’re good as long as you don’t trip over something. You turn to the ticket machine in panic when you hear the officer’s voice by the gates.

“No time!” Donghyuck pulls you away, effortlessly jumping over the faregate and looking at you expectantly.

“I can’t do that, Donghyuck!” you complain, panic rising in your chest, adrenaline drowning the rest of it.

Before you can say anything more, Donghyuck reaches over the gate, pulling you up by the waist and grabbing your hand all over again to run down the stairs to the tunnels.

“Hey!”

You hear the shout of the lady behind the ticket counter, clearly having seen your misconduct as you pray for her to forget your face. You’d like to be able to use the subway for future travel.

The train’s about to shut its door when you reach. Donghyuck treads quickly on the stone before he jumps on, pulling you in just in time to avoid getting caught in between the sliding doors.

For a moment, there’s only the sound of heavy breathing and the movement of the train on its tracks, the burning in your throat drowning out other senses. You slide down to crouch on the floor, your face hot and sweat drenching your forehead and neck. Your shoelaces are undone, you notice, no energy left in you to reach out and tie them into your perfect knots.

There’s a few moments of silence as you regain your composure.

“What was that?!” You laugh, unable to control yourself as you clutch your stomach. “You almost got arrested!”

He joins in with his sunny laughter, crouching down beside you. “Man, I really thought I was done for.”

After a few moments, Donghyuck sits with his legs crossed atop the passenger seat, the coach mostly empty save for you and an old couple at the far corner. He animatedly recalls a story of another near-arrest he had, with you laughing beside him.

A thought passes you in between jokes and stories—what if everything was like this always? Just the two of you, in a room full of people, in a room without people. You think you’ve started looking at Donghyuck a bit too much. You’re not sure about regretting it.

Donghyuck’s been getting the strangest of impulses these days.

He tilts his head away from you to check the time on his watch, the gentle weight of your head on his shoulder reassuring, even if it’s hard to admit. It’s half-past ten and he’s been staring at you for a little over an hour now. Who falls asleep in the subway? Sure, there being not many stops, the journey between each is longer but Donghyuck wouldn’t be caught dead drooling on someone’s shoulder like this.

You shift, Donghyuck immediately moving to cradle your head with his hand so it just doesn’t drop off. Your lips are puffed even in sleep as if you’re still caught in an argument with him. He chuckles to himself. It’s so like you.

Cross the line. The voice in his head says. Just dip your head a little and…

Your head leans into the skin between his neck and shoulder, a shot of electricity pulsing through him at the contact. There’s a race of thoughts within him, thoughts he shouldn’t be having.

What is he so afraid of, really? What is he, Lee Donghyuck, so afraid of? Love? That’s the lamest thing he can think of.

It’s true, though.

Fucking voice of his conscience—loud thoughts are more a pain in the ass than anything else. Donghyuck will resort to cowardice if it be so. He’s not going to be reduced to something he’s not just because he’s head over heels in his own feelings for you.

Donghyuck pushes the hair from your face, craning his neck to be able to see you better. Wanting to love, wanting to be loved—what a stupid thing to fear. He sighs, closing his own eyes and checking the time once again. He’ll wake you up in a few minutes when your station’s near.

You stop at the medicine to store to buy antiseptic cream and some band-aids. Donghyuck says he doesn’t need it, he has some at home but you must be good at convincing. There’s a little garden of scratches on his palm even he’s not sure when he received.

You sit in the empty parking lot, under the only streetlight that seems to be working in the area. The convenience store beside you is there to provide its twenty-four-hour lights if not anything else. There are some people out on nightly walks, you notice when you look at the sidewalk. It surprises you a little to see shapes of people against midnight blue.

You’ve never been out so late. You text your mom to remind her you’re still alive before you can turn your attention to Donghyuck.

“Okay! Enough!” He retreats his hand, complaining. “My hand smells like a pharmacy at this point.”

You lean back against the streetlamp, sighing.

“I can’t believe we ran away from a police officer,” you say, a goofy smile on your face as you stretch your arms in front of you.

“There’s always a first.” Donghyuck grin. “You don’t have to thank me for that, by the way.”

You roll your eyes. “One of these days, you’ll regret it. How long do you plan on being reckless?”

“How long do you plan on pretending you don’t enjoy it?” He asks, face leaning in with a sly smile.

You think you feel heat on your cheeks, you can’t be sure, but you end up scoffing, a rather losing response to someone who’s used to winning.

“You’re clearly into my devilishly handsome face,” he continues with an exaggerated shake of his head. “Does my recklessness turn you on? Don’t you think I look good? You can’t blame m—”

This brat.

You yank him by the cloth of his hoodie to get face to face, noses almost touching. Watching the confidence drain from his face, you’d laugh but it’d just give away the sudden adoration you feel. What a shame this demon was blessed to be so cute.

There’s a pause the length of a breath.

Donghyuck’s eyelids flutter close just as he presses his lips against yours, a soft sound escaping yours. He places a hand against your cheek as nimbly as possible, something pushing him to deepen what you have. You give in, humming into the kiss as you pull yourself closer.

For all the havoc he wreaks, Donghyuck isn’t necessarily a bad kisser. His lips are soft—his investment in lip balms improved since you first met him and the scent of whatever he used is delicious.

It’s a few moments of kissing when Donghyuck suddenly pulls back.

“I don’t deserve this,” he says, eyes flickering.

You look on, unsure. It’s not like him to falter. “What- What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he responds, looking at his hands, “that I’m really not good enough. I’m just- I’m not who people think I am. Hell, I don’t know who I am. It’s just- I don’t-”

You place your hand against his cheek, his rambling fading away as he looks into you.

“Even if you like me because you think I’m fun,” he continues, “I mess things up, you know? I mess things up really bad. If you get hurt- If- Ah, I don’t know what to say.”

“I really like you, Donghyuck,” you whisper, “but you’re making no sense right now.”

There’s a pause within the night air.

“I…I put a kid in the hospital,” he says, voice low and upset. “In middle school. I- I didn’t mean to! I can’t remember what happened but…we had to pay the bills and- and we’re still recovering.”

There’s a stifling silence. You lift his chin up so he faces you, the inability to see his expression troubling.

“I still feel guilty,” he whispers. “I do things for fun. And I fuck up the consequences.”

Donghyuck’s calculating and careful. You already know that.

“It’s okay,” you assure him, not finding any better words. “We’re big kids now.”

“But that doesn’t mean—”

“I’m not saying anything like that,” you interrupt. “We’ll still fuck up, you know? Adults fuck up. Doesn’t mean we don’t do things at all.”

“God, I hate you lecturing me,” he groans, looking away.

You crack a smile, still holding his face, the side without the band-aid. Donghyuck doesn’t say you’re right, a short chuckle on his lips instead before he leans in to peck you on the mouth, slowly turning into another kiss.

You think you hear the buzz of fireflies, spring’s darlings, although you didn’t know they’d be found here. Donghyuck looks pretty under the streetlight, as you connect mole to mole, an airy feeling in your chest, almost bubbling over.

You want to tell him he’s amazing, but you figure you’d tend to his ego some other day.

“Hey, you got that leather jacket!” you exclaim when you walk into class, Donghyuck’s head in Renjun’s chokehold.

He’s quick to defend himself, shaking Renjun off him and scoffing. “I didn’t get it because you said so, obviously.”

You shake your head with a laugh, sitting at your place. Donghyuck smiles to himself before dropping it to shoot some comments at Renjun.

“Nothing going on with our precious demon there?”

You look up to see Jaemin smiling at you, clearly onto something. You haven’t told anyone yet, every rendezvous a ridiculously honest secret.

You turn your head to see Donghyuck consuming a bag of hot Cheetos in what seems to be a competition with Zhong Chenle. You shake your head, furrowing your eyebrows at the scene. What’s even going on in their heads? If anything at all, that is.

Jaemin clears his throat, bringing your attention back to him. He has some sort of expectation in his eyes.

You laugh, more than enough to answer him. Really, being fond of Lee Donghyuck shouldn’t feel so much a crime as the city lights in his eyes do.

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waiting4inspiration · 4 years

Text

To be Evil I: Part of the Team

Summary: You’ve been training to be an Avenger for years with the hope that you will be enlisted as part of the team. Only, when a new threat pops up, Tony asks for help from a past enemy.

Warnings: angst, strong language, mention of the battle of New York, little flirting, feelings of being unappreciated, magical element

Word Count: 2,054

To be Evil Masterlist II Marvel Masterlist

As far as obeying orders and rules go, you’d do whatever anyone tells you. Not because you want to suck up to anyone, but because you were told by Tony Stark that if you did so, you’d be made part of the team and it’s what you want the most.

With powers similar to Wanda’s, you feel like you would fit in with the team and you could learn a lot from her. She’s taught you a lot already, but you know that there is so much more you can learn. And though it’s been years since you started training full time with the team and they haven’t made you an official member yet, you’re patient. You’re certain that you’ll get what you deserve.

The last mission needed all hands on deck, including you and the kid, Peter Parker - who’s your age when you started training, but only part-time. It was a mission that was beyond successful and mostly because of what you did during the mission. You know that, but you won’t boast. However, you’re so sure that this will make Tony see that you’re ready to be part of the team. You’re ready to be an Avenger.

“Nice job out there,” Bucky speaks as he joins your side, walking down the jet ramp so that you don’t have to walk alone. “I especially like how you threw one guy across the room without so much as batting an eyelash.”

His words make you laugh, bite your lower lip, and drop your head to stare at the ground as you smile at that memory. “All in a day’s work,” you mention, lifting your gaze up to him as you come to stop in front of the doors leading into the compound. “And I have to thank you for watching my back while I was throwing guys across the room,” you say, smiling when Bucky shrugs his shoulders as if it’s nothing.

“Just let me buy you dinner one night and we’ll call it even,” he smirks, making you shake your head in amusement before turning to walk through the doors.

“Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer someday,” you say over your shoulder, unaware that he smiles brightly at your words.

By now, you’re used to a new threat popping up when a mission has just been wrapped up. You’re used to being brief, either by Tony or by Fury, about what the next mission is over breakfast. So, seeing the team gathering before breakfast the next day tells you that something big is happening.

You’re a bit excited about what it could be, try to hide your excitement and be serious so that Tony will see that you’re committed to being an Avenger. Bucky can see your excitement and he smiles at how you try to act cool about it. He knows you want to be part of the team and personally, he thinks you’re ready for it. He’s trained you, taught you how to fight without using your powers, and he really thinks you’re ready for this.

Tony rubs his hands together, clears his throat when he sees that everyone is here and looks between everyone. “I know we’re all tired, but we only need a few people on this mission,” he starts, earning a sigh of relief from more than half of the team. “And we are going to need help from someone who has experience in all kinds of manipulation, curses, and that magic kind of stuff,” he continues, making you perk up in interest and drop your arms to your sides. “And because Wanda’s going on vacation, we’re gonna have to add a new member to the team.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, push down your excitement as you take in a deep breath. This is it. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for, training for, for years. You’re finally getting what you deserve. Everything you’ve worked hard for is being rewarded to you right now.

But when Tony looks away from you and to the door of the room, your heart and smile drops. You don’t know if you even want to follow his gaze, but you do out of sheer curiosity. “You’ve got to be joking,” you whisper to yourself when you see Loki walking into the room, a coy smirk on his face.

Looking around, you see that the team’s not too pleased about this any more than what you are, but obviously for different reasons. You’re fully aware of what happened in New York, about how Loki is practically an enemy. And although you weren’t there to fight in the Battle of New York, you saw everything that happened.

“Are you sure about this Tony?” Steve questions and you’re just glad that someone has common sense and willing to call Tony out on his bullshit suggestion. “How do we know he won’t turn on us?”

You look back at Tony, stare coldly at him as you wait for an answer. “I can assure you,” Loki begins to speak, making your head snap over to him as he comes to join the gathering. “This threat is more powerful than you mortals can even imagine. If he succeeds, there will be nothing left,” he explains, his eyes landing on you as he tilts his head in interest.

“Nothing left for you to play with?” Natasha teases, raising an eyebrow when Loki turns his gaze over to here.

“Why do we even need his help? There are people on this team who could do the exact same thing he could do,” Bucky mentions, looking over at you and making the whole team follow his gaze.

Thankful that he’s got your back, you give him a small thankful smile before turning to Tony to hear his response. Tony stares at you, sighs and looks away from you, back to the team. “We need someone with experience-”

“I don’t have experience? Tony, I’ve been on more missions than I can count on my fingers and toes. I’ve been training my ass off the past few years, and you’re saying that I don’t have experience?” you fight back, sick of holding your tongue for the chance to show Tony that you’re good and keeping your cool.

“I’m not going to have you getting hurt on this upcoming mission because no one’s going to be looking after you,” he snaps, turning to stare sternly at you.

You take a step forward, one that seems to make the room go tense. Especially when they see the familiar yellow glow around your hands, like when you’re firing up to use your powers. “I’m not a kid anymore, Tony. I can take care of myself.”

“If I may-” Loki begins, but you’re so filled with rage and don’t want to hear a thing from him. So, you wave your hand as you hiss at him to shut up and seal his lips together. Loki’s eyes grow wide at what you just did, how you did it with ease and with, literally, a wave of your hand.

“I’m ready to be part of this team and you’re more willing to enlist Peter before me and he’s not even out of school yet,” you shout, pointing to Peter angrily.

As you move your hand, the entire team ducks to avoid being hit by whatever curse you’re holding. You notice this and quickly glance down to your hands as you bring them to your chest. That’s the biggest part of your powers. You’ve called them curses ever since you can remember because that’s how you saw them and that’s how everyone else saw them. It wasn’t only until after Wanda started teaching you how to control your powers that you learned that what you do is just a powerful form of mind control.

Tony shifts on his feet and folds his arms over his chest as he gives you an ‘I-told-you-so’ look. “You’re still learning how to control your powers. It’s not a good idea to have you out there with something like what we’re about to face and I’m not going to put the team in danger because of you,” he says, obviously not thinking about his words. And you can tell by the regret that fills his face right after he says that.

“You think I’m dangerous.” It’s not a question. Because when you turn to look at the team as they stand back up, you can see each of them has a somewhat scared look on their faces. “I see how it is now,” you whisper, glaring at Tony for one last time before you turn and walk away.

It’s days like this when you wish you could just create a portal to your room so that you don’t have the entire staring at you or trying to stop you so they can resolve the issue at hand. Because, as Steve would say, you can’t be a team and fight wars if there’s a war going on in the team.

Slamming your bedroom door behind you, you make a frustrated sound as you weave your fingers through your hair. You grip the roots, tug on them and breathe out a deep sigh when you hear a knock on your door. You knew that someone was following since you stormed out of the meeting but you didn’t bother to look back to see who it was.

“Go away!” you sneer, letting go of your hair to turn to the door.

It’s quiet for a moment before you hear footsteps walking away. You contemplate if you should let whoever it is leave, considering that you told them to leave, or stop them. The latter makes you open the door and rush out into the hallway. Turning your head from one side to the other, you see Bucky walking away. When you call out to him, he stops in his tracks and turns back to face you.

He smiles at you and starts to walk towards you. “I thought I’d come back sure you’re okay,” he mentions, slowly walking towards you as he places his hands in his pockets.

“I don’t need a babysitter, Bucky,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest.

Your words make Bucky freeze and his smile fades. He drops his gaze to the ground, bites his lower lip and nods his head. “I know. I just...thought maybe you wanted to talk,” he states, lifting his head up again and gives you a sad look.

Sighing, you look away from him and shake your head. “Look, I know you’re upset. I get that,” he speaks again, taking a step forward and making your head lift up at him. “But there’s nothing you can do to change this,” he adds, standing in front of you and trying to reach out to try and comfort you.

But you step back away from him and shake your head. A cold look, almost like the one you gave Tony, comes across your face again and Bucky knows his words came out wrong. “I wait patiently for this. I followed every single order, did everything I was told ever since Tony found me on the streets, playing tricks on cops so that I could run away from them. He told me that I’d have a place on this team, but I’d have to focus on school and stuff like that first,” you coldly say, your hand reaching for your door. “It’s clear that was all a lie. Tony Stark doesn’t hold his promises.”

And with that, you close your door in his face, making his heart drop into his stomach. He could have sworn that he saw some kind of look in your eyes. A look that frightens him because it reminds him of his Winter Soldier days. He knows that anger never bodes well in someone like you.

Bucky knows your past, though he hasn’t told you. He knows what you can really do, how powerful you can be if you don’t hold like, or if you’re not trained to control them properly. And he knows that if you get in touch with the source of your powers, it could be the doom of everything.

Could. He always hopes that it won’t come to that. But now, he’s beginning to doubt that hope.

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alicanta77 · 4 years

Text

Run Away

pairing: y/n x Jaemin

themes: fluff, angst, non idol au

warnings: swearing, violence, fighting, drugs, drug use, overdose, mentions of cheating, mentions of sex, depression, suicide attempt, death, character death, anxiety, abusive family, alcohol abuse

words: 12k

Disclaimer: This contains very dark content. Please do NOT read if you are uncomfortable with or easily triggered by anything listed in the warnings.

——————————————————————————

Would you run away to me?

‘Run away!’ Your young voice rang out clearly. ‘Run away before Hook catches you!’

‘Captain Hook will never catch me.’ Jaemin declared, standing on a box to put himself higher than you. ‘Because I’m Peter Pan!’

Yours and Jaemin’s mothers watched the two of you play. Just two seven year olds who had nothing more to worry about than being saved from a giant make believe crocodile.

You fell backwards pretending as though you had landed in water. You flailed your arms and legs around calling out for Jaemin to save you.

Jaemin saw the “danger” you were in and leapt into action. He jumped off of his box, landing in a shaky forwards roll, before picking up into a run and speeding towards you. He paused on the way to grab a large stick from the floor to use as a sword as he pretended to battle the imaginary demon attacking you.

After the monster was defeated, he landed on his knees next to you. Pulling you close to check that you were okay.

‘Y/n? You’re safe now. Nothing can touch you when I’m here.’ He reassured you.

‘My hero.’ You giggled, sitting up properly.

Both your heads turned as your mother called the two of you in for a snack. You took Jaemin’s hand and pulled yourself up.

‘Race you to the table!’ You challenged, sprinting towards the open back door.

‘Cheat! You should have waited for me to be ready.’ Jaemin complained, already running after you. It didn’t matter how much of a head start you gave yourself, Jaemin would always let you win anyway.

You enjoyed playing make believe with Jaemin. The imaginary worlds you created were always so much better than reality. Places where the two of you could be heroes and save people, where you were safe as long as you had each other, where nothing and nobody could touch you.

Unfortunately, you always had to come back to reality.

You father stumbled through the door, throwing his keys in the general direction of the coffee table, and missing. He sent you and Jaemin a withering look before making his way upstairs. He left a strong scent of alcohol behind him, one that you were very used to.

Jaemin’s mother looked towards yours with a sympathetic smile, your mother simply shrugging helplessly back at her. You and Jaemin were too young to properly understand what was going on, but, even at that age, you could tell that it wasn’t good.

Jaemin had always been better at reading people than you were. He could tell from the slightest twitch in someone’s eyebrow as to whether they were angry, sad or confused. The only person you could read like a book was Jaemin. The two of you never bothered to hide anything from the other, knowing that it wouldn’t work even if you tried.

The two of you sat down at the table slowly, your actions speeding up when you noticed the plate of cookies on the table. The two of you smiled at each other, cheeks full of the sweet treat as your mothers looked endearingly at you. At your age you didn’t stay sad or scared for long, making it easier for them to distract and protect you from reality.

---

The afternoon sun was beating down outside, giving out the last of its rays before it descended and the moon took over. You and Jaemin sat together, happily watching as the sky morphed into a painting of pinks and oranges.

‘I like the sky like this.’ You said, resting your tiring head on Jaemin’s shoulder.

‘Why?’ He questioned, hugging his knees with his hands.

‘Because it looks like something out of a fairy tale. Somewhere there are happy ever afters, and everyone gets one.’ You explained as Jaemin nodded in agreement. The both of you were too young to fully understand the depths of the words you uttered.

‘I can’t wait for a happy ever after.’ Jaemin admitted, putting his head on yours.

‘Me neither.’ You murmured, enjoying being near your best friend.

‘Jaemin!’ Jaemin’s mother’s voice drew both your attention away from the sky in front of you. ‘It’s time to go! Say goodbye, you can see each other again tomorrow.’

Jaemin turned back to face you, pulling you in for a quick hug.

‘Bye y/n. I’ll see you tomorrow?’ He asked.

‘Of course.’ You replied, smiling at him.

Jaemin stood up off the porch steps the two of you were sitting on, and walked off with his mum. He turned back to send you one last wave before he crossed the street. You waved back, watching until he disappeared from your sight.

You couldn’t wait for your happy ever after.

---

But happy ever after took time.

You sat in your bedroom, your hands covering your ears as you buried your head in your duvet. You were doing everything you could think of to block out the noises but it wasn’t working. Your father’s drunk screams were echoing up to your room and your mother’s retaliations were just as noisy.

You whimpered as the words got more violent and vicious, the threats becoming more and more severe. It was when you heard a smack and a yelp of pain that you finally burst into tears.

You had never felt more useless in your life. The hopelessness washed over you in tidal waves as you tried as hard as you could to stop the tears. Nothing was working.

Your sobs got louder with each one that escaped you, eventually becoming almost as deafening as your parent’s harsh words to each other. Your young body was shaking, partially from fear and partially from the force of your crying.

The noise from the floor below you quietened, making you still slightly, your sobs turning into quiet cries as you listened.

You heard footsteps climbing the stairs, loud uneven footsteps that you knew were your father’s. You felt your heart start to race again, this time you knew it was in pure fear. A second pair chased up after him, much lighter and faster. That was your mother.

Your father threw open your door, a sadistic smile on his face as he looked at your vulnerable form.

‘How pathetic.’ He mused. ‘Crying because you can’t handle a bit of loud noise.’

You whimpered again, attempting to pull your duvet up over you, as if it was a shield that could protect you.

He stalked towards you.

‘Get up.’ He spat. ‘Now.’

You were to afraid to argue, pushing your duvet down and standing on shaking legs. You wrapped your arms around you to defend yourself from the sudden chill of leaving the warmth of your bed.

You father managed one more step towards you before your mother reached your room.

‘No.’ She commanded, her voice full of an unusual authority. ‘You don’t hurt her.’

Your father turned around, almost amused by your mother’s words.

‘Hurt her? How would I do that?’

Your mother was clearly afraid and not enjoying the teasing looking on your father’s face.

‘Ohhhh.’ He said, realisation taking over his features. ‘You mean like this?’

He moved so quickly that you didn’t have time to react. He whirled his body around and lashed out with a punch. It was so fast and so powerful that it knocked you off your feet.

You hit the floor with a thud, banging the top of your head as you did so. You blinked a couple of times, trying to get the floor to stop spinning. You vaguely registered your mother trowing herself at your father, but he easily threw her off.

You were too out of it to hear his dangerous whisper.

‘You come at me like that again, and I’ll hit that child twice as hard.’

All you noticed was your mother stopping in her tracks, immediately giving up on protecting you. You watched her figure move away, not sparing you another glance.

Your father watched her go, his back to you, and you took your opportunity. You pushed yourself up off the floor, careful not to make a sound and crept towards your window. As you opened it slightly, you heard their conversation ending, you couldn’t quite hearing what they were saying, but you knew that you were out of time.

You finally got your window fully open and had half of your body out of it when you father turned around.

His face changed into pure rage at the sight of you getting away and he ran towards the open window, making a lunge for you. You threw yourself backwards, trying to catch yourself on the tree outside but just missing.

You arms scrambled for random branches and objects to slow your fall and you landed harshly in the buses by your front door. They managed to soften your fall to an extent, leaving you still able to get up and run.

So you did.

You ran to the one place you knew you would always be safe.

You ran to Jaemin.

You didn’t spare a look behind you, not knowing that if you did, you would find out that you weren’t being followed and instead your father was simply watching you disappear from your bedroom window. He was never going to chase you.

Your breath escaped you in desperate pants as you forced your short legs to move faster. For a seven year old, the distance between yours and Jaemin’s house felt like a marathon, each step feeling as though it was taking you further away from him, rather than closer towards.

After what felt like a lifetime, you reached Jaemin’s front door, banging frantically on it. You couldn’t hear anything over the loud beating of your heart, so you nearly jumped out of your skin when the door opened to reveal Jaemin’s mother.

‘Y/n? Sweetheart, what’s wrong?’ She asked, her soothing voice making the tears well up in your eyes again.

You stuttered out a few syllables pointing wildly behind you, not managing to explain anything. Jaemin’s mother shushed you, pulling you close for a gentle hug. You buried your head into her shoulder and cried. You began to sob, fully breaking down onto her as the fear finally escaped you.

‘Mum?’ You heard Jaemin’s voice from further inside the house. ‘Mum, who’s that?’

His mother turned around, allowing you to see Jaemin through the mess of your tears. Even at such a young age, Jaemin was fiercely protective of you, rushing forwards to hug you himself.

‘Come on Jaemin, bring her inside.’ His mother instructed, her tone so refreshing gentle that it made you look up at to check that it was real.

Jaemin kept his hand tight in yours as he pulled you into the safety of his house. The two of you sat at the table while his mother made you some hot chocolate. Jaemin kept one hand on you at all time, not wanting you to feel alone, and wanting you to know that he was there.

You didn’t tell them what happened, not really knowing how to describe the past minutes of your life. You didn’t understand the full extent of the previous events, but somehow, you knew that your life would never be the same again.

---

You lay in Jaemin’s bed trying to get some sleep, while he lay on a mattress on the floor. You could tell that he was worried about you, he wanted to know what had gone wrong and how he could help. But, for the first time in his young life, Jaemin was completely helpless. All he could do was watch as you had to face a harsh reality.

You rolled onto your side, looking down at your friend who was lying on their back. Jaemin opened his eyes and looked over at you, waiting for you to speak first.

‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ You whispered.

Jaemin’s heart sank. He knew that he couldn’t make you talk about anything that you didn’t want to, but he also wanted to know what he could do to make things better.

‘That’s ok.’ He settled on that for a reply, not really knowing what else he could say.

You let out a deep breath, letting yourself finally relax after the long and difficult night you had tackled. Your eyes slowly shut and you listened to Jaemin’s breathing, matching yours with him. You let yourself whisper one final sentence, something lost in the darkness, only ever to be heard by the boy lying on the floor next to you.

‘Jaemin... I think I need to grow up.’

---

You arrived back home, finding the door unlocked waiting for you. You shut it behind you, listening for the click. You had never thought to do that before. You trudged into the kitchen, looking around, expressionless, at the sight in front of you. There were smashed bottles, glasses and belongings everywhere. Paintings had been torn off the walls and trashed, the coffee table by the TV had been thrown over and even the cushions on the sofa had been thrown about.

You knew that this was simply an argument of your parents’ that had gotten out of control. You knew you should probably react more, but you didn’t. You were going to grow up and accept it. You turned your line of sight to the dining table, where your father sat. You held eye contact for a second, neither of you saying a word as he finished the last of whatever was left in the whiskey he was drinking.

‘Can’t get into the back of the lower cupboards to get another.’ He stared you down while saying that.

Your young face didn’t change, you kept the same expressionless reaction on it as you crouched down and crawled into a cupboard. You pulled out the first bottle you saw, another whiskey that was half full and placed it on the table in front of your father.

‘Good girl.’ He said, nodding at you.

You made no attempt to reply in any way. Instead you turned on you heel and headed up the stairs. You paused in front of your room, listening to your mother’s sobs echoing from the other side of her closed bedroom door. You stood there for five seconds before moving inside your room and shutting the door behind you. You ignored it, knowing that it was your reality and you had to grow up and face that.

Then, you got ready for school.

In the end you got your wish to grow up. But you grew up too fast, the maturity forced on you by the struggles and difficulties you faced, and the trauma that came with them. You learnt very quickly that you either grew up and learnt how to survive, or you suffocated in the hellish mess you call reality.

So you chose to survive.

Would you run away for me?

‘Come on y/n! I’m getting tired of waiting for you. It doesn’t take that long.’ Jaemin whined up at your window.

‘Easy for you to say. You’re not the one climbing out of your window!’ You huffed, careful to make sure that your foot doesn’t slip.

‘Well I offered to climb up but you thought that would be a bit too ‘Romeo and Juliet’, so who’s fault is it really that we’re in this situation?’ He bit back, provoking a large eye roll out of you as you finally reached the ground.

‘Roll your eyes any harder why don’t you.’ Jaemin teased and you stared at him blankly for a second, before rolling your eyes so hard that it almost physically hurt. ‘Alright I stand corrected.’ Your friend grumbled as you laughed and began to skip away.

It was 11pm and both you and Jaemin were supposed to be asleep. But, being the rebellious 14 year olds you were, you decided to go for a walk. Luckily for the two of you, it was summer holidays and your streets were very well lit, meaning that you weren’t really in any danger.

Over the summer holidays, you had found yourself doing this more and more often with Jaemin. Your situation at home hadn’t gotten better over the past seven years, instead spiralling as your mother turned to the influence of alcohol in order to try and find the comfort her husband no longer provided.

Your family consisted of two alcoholic parents, one abusive and the other apparently unaware of your presence, whereas Jaemin’s household included his mother and a father that was attempting to buy his way back into their life after walking out on them ten years earlier.

Jaemin seemed to be the only place that actually felt like home for you, and you didn’t know it, but he felt the same way about you. It was such a blessing for the two of you to have your home as a person rather than a place, considering what state the places were in at the moment, it was probably lifesaving - you just didn’t realise it.

Jaemin jogged ahead of you, climbing up onto a small wall and walking along it.

‘When do you think we’ll get happy ever after?’ He asked, grinning down at you.

‘Get what?’ You laughed.

‘Happy ever after!’ He repeated, yet you still stared at him with one eyebrow raised. ‘What?’ He asked, jumping down and walking closer to you.

‘Jaemin... I don’t really think there is a happy ever after.’ You admitted and his face fell into confusion.

‘What are you talking about? That was the whole goal. We’re gonna grow up together, move away from here and finally get a happy ever after. That was the plan y/n!’ Jaemin insisted, confusion evident on his face.

‘I know it was, but I just think that that’s not really in the cards for me anymore.’ You shrugged, not really thinking it that big of a deal. Jaemin seemed to think otherwise.

‘What? Y/n, I don’t understand where is this coming from? Of course it’s in the cards for you! Do you not remember everything we talked about when we were kids? We used to love to play hero because at the end of it, we always got that happy ever after.’ Jaemin’s voice was turning sad, his face dropping.

‘Come on Jaemin.’ You laughed. ‘There was a reason that was all imaginary. We used to wish for when we could grow up but we had no idea what that really meant. It means letting go of those childish fantasies and facing reality. And reality is, happy ever after doesn’t come to everyone. I don’t want to spend my life chasing something that isn’t even real.’ You said the words casually, almost jokingly as you laughed through it, but they held much deeper meaning that Jaemin seemed to catch on to.

How could you believe in happy ever after when you’ve never seen it?

He nodded, sending you a smile that didn’t reach his eyes before grabbing you by the hand and pulling you into the park.

‘Race you to the swings?’ He challenged.

‘You’re on!’

---

Anything. You really would do anything for Jaemin. When you said he meant the world to you, you were understating it. You only said that because it was the closest description to how you felt. So when the two of you walked into his home late next afternoon to find his father sitting at the table with an innocent smile, you were prepared to do anything Jaemin needed you to.

‘Evening son!’ His father greeted him happily.

‘Don’t call me that.’ Jaemin spat, his eyes hard. ‘How did you even get in?’

‘Your mother let me in, son.’ Jaemin’s father explained. ‘I-’

‘Don’t call me son.’ Jaemin interrupted, his voice threatening calm but his eyes were wild with fury.

His father took a breath before continuing. ‘I wanted to talk to you.’

‘Great, good talk. We’re going.’ Jaemin grabbed your hand again and heading towards the stairs.

‘We need to talk son.’ His father repeated.

Jaemin visibly tensed.

‘Don’t call me son...’ He spoke through gritted teeth, his voice not so calm anymore.

His father persisted. ‘Your mother and I have been having conversations and, with her new job, we both agreed that it is best that I move back here for the time being so that there’s someone to take care of you.’

Jaemin didn’t reply to that, his face a picture of rage, disbelief and desperation. You could tell that this was the absolute last thing he wanted to happen. His father’s choice to continue speaking did nothing to calm the storm that was brewing in his mind.

‘Now I know that this is going to take some getting used to, but son-’

‘Do not call me son!’ Jaemin whirled around on his father, the shout erupting from his throat. ‘You don’t get to call me son until you’ve acted like a father! You’re nothing but a coward and I want nothing to do with someone like you!’

With that he walked back towards the front door, opening it and walking out. His grip on you hand never loosened, effectively bringing you with him and you just managed to grab the door handle and pull it shut behind you.

You let Jaemin walk for a bit, just following him as he paced around the town. After a couple of minutes of tense silence, you found yourselves back in the park you were in last night. You opened your mouth to speak, but Jaemin got there first.

‘We should go.’

Your head whipped around, staring at the boy in front of you in confusion.

‘Go?’ You asked, watching as he turned back to you.

‘Yeah. We always talked about leaving, let’s do it. Now.’ You could see in his eyes that he was being 100% serious, and it honestly made you nervous.

‘Jaemin... we can’t just leave.’ You told him, keeping your voice soft.

‘Why not? We can make it. We just stay together, find somewhere where no one knows who we are or what’s happened to us. Everyone in this town known too damn much about each other. I want to be known as something more than just the boy who’s dad didn’t even want him.’ Jaemin insisted, the raw honestly in his sentences were making your eyes sting slightly. You loved him so much and wanted him to be happy and safe, but you knew that you couldn’t run away, not yet.

‘Jaem, I don’t... We can’t just leave. We just 14... How would we leave? Where would we go? How could we survive with just the two of us? I just don’t think that this is the right time for us to run away. But, trust me when I say, we will leave. We will get out of here, I promise.’

‘The same way you promised we would always get a happy ever after?’

Jaemin wasn’t looking at you anymore, instead he was looking at the gradually changing sky, the way he always did when he had a lot going on in his mind. You bit your lip, the words he spoke hitting you as hard as knives. You meant what you had said yesterday, but you wished you had stopped to think about how it would affect Jaemin if you had said it.

‘Do you wanna stay at mine tonight?’ You asked him, moving your hand out of his and resting it on his bicep, doing the same with your other. He looked up at you before closing his eyes and nodding.

You smiled sadly at him before moving your arms further upwards and wrapping them around his neck. You pulled his into a tight hug, relieved when he began to hug you back. He held you as close as he could and buried his head into your neck. You could hear his soft sniffles and your heart clenched at the realisation that he was quietly crying.

‘I just wish... I just wish he would let us be happy without him. Mum was doing so well...’ His voice trailed off and you said nothing, just gently stroking his hair while allowing him to say as much or as littler as he wanted.

‘Can we go?’ He whispered and you nodded, gently pulling away.

You held you hand back out for him, which he gladly took, and began the short walk back to yours.

---

Jaemin had spent every night of the past week and a half at yours. His mum worked night shifts at her job so she wasn’t around to see that her son wasn’t at home either. You never minded as your parents took no notice of you so it was nice to finally have some company.

You were sat in the living room together, watching a film on the tv in front of you. Earlier that day you had gone to the shops to pick up snacks and the table in front of you was littered with food. There was a big bowl of popcorn, along with crisps and food and, not to mention, drinks.

You were laughing at a comment Jaemin had made about one of the characters when the front door burst open. You both jumped at the noise and Jaemin immediately paused what was on TV. You stayed quiet, wondering who was coming home at this hour. You knew your mum was also working a night shift and you assumed that you father was working late, but you were soon proved wrong.

You father stumbled through the door, almost slipping on the wall as he tried to steady himself. You shot to your feet, Jaemin following you. In the past few years you had gained the courage to tell Jaemin the truth about the bruises he kept finding on your body, and he knew that if your father was a drunk as he appeared, things were likely to get violent.

Instead your father broke out into a smile, turning around to look at something behind him and laughing. You and Jaemin shared a confused look before you moved closer to the open doorway, hoping to get a look at what he was laughing at.

What you saw made your entire body tense up with anger.

Jaemin came around behind you and, when he saw the same sight the greeted you, immediately placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

Your father was standing in the hall way, making out with a woman who was most definitely not your mother. You watched as he pulled away from her, accepting her hand to bring him upstairs. You watched them disappear at the top of the stairs, turning the corner towards the room that he shared with your mother every night, and heard the door shut.

You didn’t move, filled with so many different emotions that you didn’t know what to feel. Jaemin gently held you by the shoulders, guiding you to sit down on the couch. He sat on the coffee table in front of you, clearing a small space before looking at you. He kept his hands on either side of your face, pushing your hair out of your eyes and wanting you to look at him. The dazed, unfocused look on your face was beginning to worry him.

‘Y/n? Y/n it’s gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay, you’ve survived worse than this and I know that you’re going to be okay. Okay? Please just look at me?’ Jaemin begged you.

You focused your eyes on him, one emotion in particular drowning out all the others. Anger.

‘After everything he’s put my mum through, all the pain, all the trauma, and it’s still not enough for him.’ You breathed out, trying so hard to keep yourself calm. ‘Is there anything left for him to do? Any pain he hasn’t put her through?’

You turned and stared at Jaemin expectantly but he just looked back at you, completely at a loss of what to say.

‘I don’t know how much more of this she can take...’ Your voice dropped to a whisper, fear taking over your body.

‘Oh y/n...’ Jaemin moved so that he was sat next to you instead. He wrapped you up in his arms and whispered comforting words into you hair. But you didn’t hear any of them. You lay in his embrace, staring at the food on the table that made you feel sick from the sight of it. ‘Let’s go to mine yeah?’ He suggested, causing you to shoot up and shake your head.

‘No, Jaemin, that means staying in the same house as your dad.’ You objected, not wanting to go back on the only thing you could for him - provide a safe space.

‘Better than staying here.’ Jaemin reasoned.

You opened your mouth to argue but a small bang and squeak echoed through the floor boards above you and made your skin crawl. You scrunched up your face in displeasure and nodded at the boy next to you. He quickly grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the door.

---

You crawled into the mattress on Jaemin’s floor that was set up for you, ready for this day to be over. Jaemin gently made his way around you to climb into his bed. He argued for about 25 minutes about you sleeping on the floor, but you insisted.

He switched off the light and you both lay in silence. You shut your eyes, hoping that would let sleep take over you, but your mind was far to awake to let your body rest.

You began to think about Jaemin’s offer to run away, and how sweet and simple it seemed. Just pack a bag, grab your best friend, and leave this god forsake town behind. Jaemin was right, everyone here knew too much about each other. The whispers on the streets about your father’s drinking, or the bruises on your arms haunted you as you attempted to live your life.

You thought about what it would be like one day. Just you and Jaemin, somewhere completely new, where you could have just him by your side, and always feel safe. Because Jaemin made you feel safe. A place where you wouldn’t have to worry about being afraid of your father. A place where Jaemin didn’t have to worry about his mother or be on his constant guard around his father. You didn’t know where you were going to go, but you knew two things about it. One, it would be a place of peace, where tranquility is in the air. And two, Jaemin would be there. Whenever you thought about your future, in any means, Jaemin was always there. You weren’t ever prepared to lose him.

You opened your eyes again, and spoke quietly.

‘Jaemin?’

‘Yeah?’ He replied, not moving from his current position.

‘I meant what I said last week you know?’ You said.

‘Huh?’ Jaemin opened his eyes, rolling onto his side so that he was looking at you.

‘About our happy ending.’ Jaemin raised an eyebrow at your statement. ‘We will leave here someday. And, wherever we go, we’re gonna be together. I promise you.’ You reassured him.

Jaemin didn’t reply, instead he simply moved over, opening the covers for you in a silent invitation. You immediately took it, climbing out of your covers and crawling into his embrace. He wrapped an arm tight around you and placed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

‘Promise me something else?’ He asked, his voice just above a whisper and shaking slightly.

‘Anything.’ You whispered back.

‘No matter what happens, you’ll always love me and... when the time comes, you’ll forgive me.’ Your heart clenched at his quiet words.

‘Forgive you? Jaemin what do you-’

‘Just promise me. Please.’ Jaemin cut you off, holding you tighter by the second, waiting for your reply.

‘I promise.’

---

Jaemin walked the route that had become scarily familiar to him in the past few weeks. In the times when he couldn’t see you, he found himself drifting here. He wasn’t sure what kept bringing him to this place, maybe it was the fact that it was only area where he really felt alone. To be honest, he felt alone every day, but at least up here, he really was alone, no one was around for miles.

He’d mentioned it to you in the past at some point, but he doubted you remembered.

Jaemin reached the same place he always did and turned towards the view. He climbed over the barrier and sat himself on the edge.

The bridge he was sitting on towered above a river, one that was twisting and turning with the harsh current that tore through it. Every time he came here, Jaemin told himself it was just for the view, but he knew that that wasn’t the reason he always climbed through the safety barrier and onto the shaky beams.

He knew that the view wasn’t the reason he always looked down at the river, finding it more and more inviting with every trip here he made.

Jaemin reached into the pocket of the hoodie he was wearing and pulled out his phone. He switched it on and was immediately greeted with a photo of the two of you. He smiled subconsciously at the sight of your smiling face.

God he was going to miss you.

But he had faith that you would be okay. You were the strongest person Jaemin knew, you could come back from anything. It wasn’t like he was much to miss anyway.

He opened his contacts and scrolled down until he found your name listed. He pressed on the number and lifted the phone to his cheek, taking a shaky breath to calm his nerves.

You picked up on the third ring.

‘Jaemin!’ he smiled at the sound of your cheerful voice, admiring how you could sound so happy when he knew how deeply you were hurting. ‘Where are we meeting today?’

‘Actually y/n-’ Jaemin cut himself off, having to take another breath to stop himself from breaking down entirely. ‘Actually y/n I think I’m gonna be a little late today.’

‘That’s okay. Why though? You’re not secretly making new friends are you?’ Your joking tone didn’t quite reach him this time.

‘Of course not, you know you’re my favourite.’ He admitted, the words truer than they had ever been before.

‘Good, because I’m not letting you pick someone else over me.’ God he loved hearing your voice, he needed this phone call but it was also making this so much harder.

‘Y/n, there’s a reason I’m going to be late today.’ Jaemin began, listening to how you hummed along to show that you were paying attention. ‘On the shelf at the top of your wardrobe there’s a box.’

‘Yeah I know.’ You cut in laughing. ‘It’s a box of our childhood memories, I made it Jaemin.’

‘I know.’ Jaemin whispered, the first tear making it’s way down his cheek. ‘But I put something else in there. Can you grab it for me.’

He heard you mutter out a response and waited patiently for your next reply.

‘Ok I found it! It’s a letter right.’ You asked, missing the pause from Jaemin that lasted just a second to long.

‘Yes. I need you to read it.’ Jaemin instructed.

‘Ok I’ll do that. By the way, how late do you think you’re going to be?’ You asked casually, not realising the importance and weight of the letter that you held in your hand.

‘I honestly don’t know y/n. I might not make it back home tonight at all.’ Jaemin heard your laughs stop slightly and your voice cut back through.

‘Not make it home? Jaemin where are you?’ He heard a chuckle in your voice but could tell that this one was far from genuine.

‘Just somewhere I come to think.’ He muttered. ‘Y/n do you remember the promise you made to me that night at my house a couple of weeks ago?’

‘Yeah.’ Your voice was small, fear starting to come through.

‘Good. I need you to keep that promise in mind when you read that letter okay?’ Jaemin’s voice was almost breaking, the tears falling down both cheeks.

‘Jaemin, what’s going on?’ Now he could really hear the panic in your voice. Jaemin knew that if he stayed on the call any longer, he would never be able to hang up.

‘Read the letter y/n. And never forget, I love you.’

---

You threw your phone at the wall in panic, your breath getting caught in your lungs as the letter stared at you from where it sat on your bed. You ran up to it, tearing it open and began to read as fast as you could, tears clouding your vision as you prayed that you had read the situation wrong.

My dearest y/n,

It’s strangely poetic isn’t it? The first letter I ever write to you is probably going to also be my last. I’ve always liked symbolism like that. But of course, you know that, you know everything about me.

I suppose I should start with the most difficult but also the most important part, the apology. Y/n, I’m so sorry that I can’t do this anymore. I’m so sorry that I’m leaving you alone. I’m so sorry that I’m not as strong as you are, but I’m just not, and I really can’t take this for much longer. It hurts. Everyday physically hurts and I don’t know how else to stop this pain.

I don’t want you to blame yourself. If you did I would never be able to forgive myself. You’re the reason that I’ve lived as long as I have and I can honestly say that, without you by my side, this would have happened a long time ago. You are the best thing that has ever and could ever have happened to me, and I am eternally grateful that I got to have you in my life.

This isn’t me dying, nor is it me giving up. This is me simply choosing a better life, a life that I can actually manage living and a life that feels worth living. I want you to know that I’m not scared so there’s no need to worry about me. Once I’m out of this place, I’ll be okay. My biggest regret, my only regret, is the fact that I have to leave you behind.

Please keep fighting for me. I know that one day you can make it out of this hellhole and escape the ghosts that haunt us both daily.

And I want you to get your happy every after. You deserve it.

All my heavenly love,

Yours forever,

Jaemin

You hugged the paper to your chest, the tears falling down your face unstoppably. You needed to find him, but the problem was, you had no idea where he was. You thought back to what he said. Somewhere he goes to think...

Your head shot up as you bolted out of your door. You only had one place in mind, and it was a long shot, but you would hate yourself forever if you didn’t at least try.

---

Jaemin stared at the phone in his hands, turning it over and over, contemplating the choices he’s made that led him to this position. He sighed and prepared himself for what’s to come. Instead of putting his phone back in his pocket, he placed it on the tarmac behind him before removing his necklace and gently laying it on top. After all of this, he wanted you to have a memory of him.

He stood up, watching the dark waves beneath him and whispered a few words lost in the winds.

‘Goodbye y/n.’

He ignored the sounds behind him and let go of the beam, preparing himself to fall towards to cold water below that was calling out to him like an icy abyss.

Until two hands grabbed his sweater by the shoulders and pulled him back.

He stumbled backwards, tripping on the safety rail as he was pulled back to the tarmac. He began to struggle, wresting his way out of the person’s grip and trying to make his way back to the edge. It took him a few seconds before the voice that was desperately screaming his name.

‘Jaemin!’ He whirled around and found himself staring into your teary eyes.

‘Y/n?’ He questioned, his voice breaking halfway through.

‘Oh thank god!’ You sobbed, throwing yourself onto him and wrapping him up in the tightest hug possible. ‘You’re alive, thank god you’re alive.’

Jaemin didn’t know how to react, his instincts kicked in and he held you by your waist but didn’t say a word, instead just listening to you cry into his shoulder.

You pulled away, only to whack him, hard, on the shoulder.

‘Ow!’ He yelped.

‘Fucking serves you right you dick!’ You shouted. ‘Why would you do that to me?’

‘How did you find me?’ Jaemin stuttered out.

‘I listen to you, that’s how. You told me that this is where you come to think, so I ran.’ You explained, the tears still pouring down your face.

Only then did Jaemin stop for a minute to take in your appearance. Your hair was disheveled, your cheeks red and your chest was heaving. You were clearly exhausted. He forced himself to look at your face, and when he did, he felt his heart break. Tears stained your cheeks, both fresh and dried and your eyes held more pain than Jaemin had ever seen before.

‘Why did you stop me?’ The broken whisper came out of the boy before he could stop it.

‘Because I can’t lose you, I can’t survive without you. If you were to die, I wouldn’t be able to come back from that.’ You admitted to him, moving close to him again.

Jaemin looked into your teary eyes as emotions of his own started to bubble up. He pulled you properly onto his lap, and held you close by your waist, burying his head into your shoulder as he began to cry. You wrapped yourself around him completely, hiding your face in his neck as well and stroking his hair.

‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.’ Jaemin hiccuped through sobs, trying to hold you closer even though it wasn’t possible.

You just shook your head, tightening your own arms as you both sat there, two broken teenagers crying into each other on the side of a bridge.

‘Jaemin...’ You began, waiting for his reply before continuing.

‘Yeah?’ He whimpered.

‘I need you to promise me something.’ You said and felt him nod into your shoulder. ‘Anytime, and I mean anytime, you ever feel like doing something like this to yourself again, come to me. Please just come to me and I’ll sit with you and talk with you for as long as you want or need. I can’t stand the thought of losing you.’ Your voice began to break again at the end of your confession, causing Jaemin to pull his head out of your shoulder and look you directly in your eyes.

‘I promise.’ He uttered. And he meant it, he really would. After seeing how affected you were, he knew he could never do anything like this to you again.

You leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his as you whispered the sentence that became his motivation to survive.

‘Jaemin... there’s no happy ever after for me if you’re not there.’

Would you run away from me?

Jaemin stuck to his word, always coming to you anytime he felt feelings similar to the ones that drew him out to that bridge. You didn’t mind, you were often glad to wake up to a call from him at 2am because it meant that a situation like that wouldn’t happen again. You were sure you could survive it if it did.

Three years later and life wasn’t any better. The 14 year old kids who found shelter in a playground were gone and replace with 17 year old teenagers, who were looking for an escape anywhere they could find it.

Last month, Jaemin’s mother passed away. It was quite possibly the worst thing that could have happened to the two of you, as Jaemin’s mother was pretty much the only figure in your lives who was even slightly paternal. She was the positivity that you both needed, and without her, the two of you were feeling very lost.

Jaemin was now stuck with his father who, now that his mother wasn’t around to make an impression on, had turned back into the cruel, careless man who ran out on the boy all those years ago. As for you, your mother had found out about your father’s cheating. And it turns out, it wasn’t the first time he had done that. He refused to give your mother the freedom she so desperately wanted, so she searched for it somewhere else. You had walked into your house one day, only to walk in on your mother doing Cocain off the kitchen table, trying to find the release that was now only available in drugs.

She had become an empty shell of herself and you often found her drugs lying around the house. Normally you just ignored them, but for some reason, when you found a small bag of Ecstasy in your bathroom, you kept it. You didn’t know why, but it was always there when you reached into your pocket.

You were getting ready to go out with Jaemin, the two of you heading to a party close by. You pulled on your jacket and headed towards your door. You turned back, doing a quick scan of the room to make sure you hadn’t forgotten anything and your eyes landed on the small bag of Ecstasy that was currently lying on your bedside table. After a short deliberation you walked back into your room, swiped it off the counter, and headed out to your party. What’s the worst that could happen?

---

You and Jaemin laughed as the music deafened you. You were drunk beyond the point of no return, and you knew that you wouldn’t be remembering any of this in the morning. The music turned from a heavy beat drop EDM track, to a slightly more sensual number and you, in your drunken state, had no control over your instincts. You pulled Jaemin closer by the neck and wrapped your arms around him. You registered the familiar feeling of his arms snaking their way around your waist and you sank into him more. He moved his head to your neck and nipped gently at the skin there.

You were too wrapped up in the music and being close to each other to notice anyone else around you. You lifted your head off his chest and looked at him. He followed your actions and soon you found yourself staring into Jaemin’s brown orbs, completely mesmerised by the colour in front of you. His hot breath was fanning your face and you found yourself subconsciously leaning in.

‘Yo!’ A random guy yelled, approaching the two of you. You leaned away from Jaemin and turned to the guy who appeared out of no where. ‘Don’t mean to interrupt bro, but do either of you want some Molly? We got masses spare and it’s going out for free to anyone here.’ He held out a bag with some pills in it.

You stared into it, licking you lips at the thought of being even more out of it than you already were.

‘Go on baby, you know you want to’ The unnamed guy in front of encouraged.

You were too far gone to comment on the pet name that, if you were sober would have made your skin crawl, and instead reached into the bag and pulled one out. You surveyed it in your fingers and made eye contact with Jaemin. He stared at you for a second before pulling out one of his own.

He reached forward, nodding at you and you opened your mouth, sticking out your tongue slightly. Jaemin placed his pill on his before repeating the actions himself, allowing you to give him your pill. You both swallowed and fell back into each other’s embrace.

You weren’t sure what you and Jaemin were anymore. He was still the one person you felt safe around, the one person that you wanted in your future, but he had also become so much more than your best friend. Nothing had ever gone further than a few drunk kisses and you never had the courage to ask him what they meant the next morning. All you knew, was that you thought of him as more and... the drug was really starting to take effect.

The surroundings faded into an almost blur, yet the colours became much more vibrant at the same time. The only thing that was fully in focus was Jaemin’s face in front of you, more importantly, his lips. You found it hard enough to stop yourself staring at them when you were sober, meaning it was twenty times harder when you were this far gone.

You didn’t waste any time, choosing to immediately move towards him, pressing your lips onto his. He quickly responded, kissing you back. The alcohol and cigarettes you had shared throughout the night were the only thing you could taste, yet, somehow, you could still taste Jaemin.

There was still so much of him in the kiss that you needed more and more of it. You could feel Jaemin thinking the same thing, his kisses getting more and more desperate, before he broke away and leaned down to your ear.

‘Shall we get out of here?’ He asked over the music.

Instead of straining your voice by replying, you nodded, a grin taking over your face. Jaemin slipped his hand into yours and began to pull you out of the warehouse. You made your way outside, stumbling slightly on the stairs before you were blinded by red and blue lights.

‘Shit.’ Jaemin murmured, pulling you out of sight of the police car heading towards the front entrance.

‘Seems like we got out just in time.’ You slurred slightly and Jaemin nodded in agreement. The two of you ran down a side passage before being greeted with the metal fence that would give you a short cut back home.

Jaemin climbed up first, offering a hand for you which you gladly took and helping you over. You landed safely on the other side and began to walk off, laughing at the close call. If you were more sober than you would have begun to feel bad for all those still stuck in the warehouse, most of them definitely being charged with drug possession, but right now you couldn’t bring yourself to focus on anything but you and Jaemin.

‘Y/n, I don’t think we should do anything when we get back.’ Jaemin blurted out of the blue.

‘Why not? It’s just fun isn’t it.’ You shrugged.

‘But if anything else happens between us, I’d prefer us to remember it.’ Jaemin said, his words serious but the drugs in his system forcing a laugh out of him.

‘I’m always gonna remember you...’ You whined, leaning in to him more.

‘Y/n we should have control over what we’re doing and saying. Sober consent is needed you know?’ Jaemin couldn’t stop himself from laughing now, causing you to start as well.

‘No, you’re right.’ You giggled, trying to calm yourself down. ‘It’s not a good idea. Don’t want to ruin our happy ever after.’ You nudged him.

Jaemin scoffed, rolling his eyes at that.

‘Happy ever after? Really? Come on y/n I thought we were beyond that.’ He looked down at you, suddenly making you feel very small.

The drugs and alcohol in your system were making your adrenaline pump, giving you a major confidence boost, something that you assume was also happening to Jaemin right now.

‘Now you don’t believe in it? Now it’s not okay to want that? What about when I didn’t want that? No, if one of us believes in it so does the other.’ You stood your ground, staring back at the boy in front of you.

‘Grow up.’ Jaemin spat, making you visibly flinch at the tone he used on you. ‘We’re not children anymore, happy ever after isn’t found in a town like this.’

‘God you don’t have to be a pessimist all the time, you used to be so positive.’ You muttered, venom lacing your words.

‘Positive? Neither of us have ever been positive or happy in our entire lives! Do you know why y/n? Because our lives suck. Maybe happy ever after doesn’t exist. Or at least, maybe it does for some, but for others, like us, maybe it’s just the thing that we read in stories, something for us to dream about. Something to distract us from the reality of what really happens. Where things just end. You don’t always get that moment, that final showdown, the big turning point where you realise how to fix everything and its all gonna be okay. Sometimes things can’t be fixed. Sometimes things aren’t going to be okay. Sometimes life just ends.’ Jaemin was full on yelling at you by the time he finished his speech.

His final words hit you like a ton of bricks, sobering you up quickly. You were still very drunk, but your mind was clear enough to read between the lines and realise that he was talking about his mum. You stepped forwards gently, placing a light hand on his shoulder.

‘Jaemin-’

‘Get off me!’ He bellow, throwing you hand off him with such force that you stumbled to the ground. Your body was still foggy, causing you to hit the floor with a much harder impact than you normally would have.

You lifted your head off and stared at Jaemin who was looking at you, an expression of pure horror on his face.

‘Y/n-’ He slurred but you scrambled away from him.

‘Stay away from me!’ You shouted, your voice cracking as the tears easily fell down your face. You felt like the same 7 year old girl who took her first hit from her father. ‘Don’t step any closer.’

Jaemin put his hands up in surrender, his face and voice pleading.

‘Y/n, please, I didn’t mean it, I would never hurt you. You have to believe me.’ He was begging you, almost on his knees.

You stared down at him, the boy you loved in more ways than one. The boy who had always made you feel safe. But right now, he didn’t make you feel any of those things. You felt as though you didn’t know him at all.

You turned on your hell and ran. You left Jaemin standing alone in the dark and ran the full way home. You burst in through your front door, ignoring the yell from your father about disrespecting his privacy and headed straight up to your room. You shut the door behind you and fell onto your bed.

You sat straight up again, the drugs taking over your system and pumping you with adrenaline. There was just one problem, it wasn’t enough. Your hands fumbled in your pocket and brought out the little clear bag with your mother’s pills in them. You popped some more in your mouth, relishing in the alien feeling of happiness that it brought to you.

You watched as the bag started to swirl around, the colours dancing in front of your eyes. Time seemed to fade out of existence and you felt yourself completely disassociate with the world around you.

You stood up, hoping to go to the bathroom but as you attempted to move you found your mind incredibly foggy. You shook your head, attempting to get rid of it, but it persisted. This wasn’t the same, slightly unaware fo your surroundings foggy that you had felt in the warehouse, but instead an, everything around you is fading out of existence kind of foggy, and it was staring to scare you. A sudden chill violent shook you, making you whole body tremble where you stood.

You felt yourself begin to sweat and you pulled at the top that you were wearing. The collar seemed to be getting tighter as the room and floor began to spin. You clawed at your chest as you reached the door to your bathroom, falling over in front of it.

You felt hands on your shoulders and you flinched away in fear, until your brain registered who they belonged to and you slumped into Jaemin. He kicked open the bathroom door and pulled you in after him, sitting you against the bathtub and getting you a glass of water. He pushed the cup to your lips but you flinched away, the thought of drinking any water making you feel physically ill, yet Jaemin didn’t let up.

He eventually got a small amount of water down your throat, and you realised just how parched you were. You grabbed the cup out of his hands and began to gulp at the cold liquid. You pulled at your top again, crying out in frustration when it didn’t tear off you. Jaemin noticed your struggle and grabbed the hem on it, gently pulling it over your head. He had only got it halfway off when your arms took over, aggressively ripping it off. You took heavy breaths as Jaemin fetched you another glass of water.

You sat on the cold floor of that bathroom for who knows how many hours, drinking water, crying and clawing at the aching parts of your body. By the time you eventually started coming back around, you could see Jaemin’s fingers uncontrollably tapping anywhere they could reach. He was still on the come down from his high, yet refused to leave your side.

You reached out a feeble hand to him, and he quickly pulled himself close, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and resting your head on his chest.

‘I’m so sorry.’ He whispered to you. ‘If I hadn’t overreacted then you wouldn’t be in this position.’ He placed a kiss on the top of your head, making any previous fears you had had about him evaporate. You knew that you had your old Jaemin back, the one who would do anything to protect you.

‘It was the drugs, not you.’ You croaked out. ‘But promise me something?’

‘Anything.’ Jaemin replied, his fingers finding their way into your hair to run through it soothingly.

‘Neither of us do drugs again.’ You let out a hoarse chuckle.

‘Deal.’ He said with absolute certainty in his voice. He leaned down again, giving you another kiss on the top of your head.

‘Jaemin?’ You whimpered.

‘Yeah?’ He responded.

‘I don’t know how to be happy, how am I ever going to get a happy ever after?’ You asked him, the question spilling out of your exhausted state before you passed out in his arms.

Jaemin was almost thankful that you had passed out immediately after asking that because, for the first time in his life, Jaemin didn’t know how to reply.

---

It had been three days since your encounter with drugs, and Jaemin hadn’t left your side. You were so thankful that he hadn’t however, as the constant drug use in your house done by your mother, was making it difficult for you to go about your everyday life without having flashbacks to that night. That was the worst you had felt, physically, in a very long time.

Jaemin had gone through your entire room and bathroom with you, gutting the areas of any alcohol and drugs. He also removed any substances or objects that can be used against yourself, making sure that he could protect you as best as possible. You knew that without him, you would never have had the strength to do any of this.

Even though he had seriously scared you on that night, every time you looked at him you saw the person he truly was, not who the drugs had made him become. You knew that that night you had seen the worst side of Jaemin, the side of him that he kept locked in a cage so tightly, he hoped he would never let it free. But when under the influence, he hadn’t had control and the anger inside him had reared it’s head.

He wasn’t perfect. He was far from perfect. He was sad and angry and, by every definition of the word, he was broken. But he was yours. He always had been yours. You had seen him through the absolute best and the complete and utter worst. And he had seen you through yours. You had seen him when his father walked back into his life without warning, the look of betrayal that took over his features as he stared at the man in front of him. He had seen you when your father first hit you, the fear in your eyes and the bruises on your body, you didn’t trust anyone else with them. You had seen him when he tried to end his life, the utter pain and heartbreak in his eyes when he told you he couldn’t handle it anymore. And he had seen you three days ago, shivering and crying on the floor while you tried desperately to hold onto yours.

It wasn’t romantic. Nothing about what the two of you had gone through screamed romance. It was hell, pure unedited hell, but somehow, somewhere along the way, you fell hard for your best friend.

He was safety, warmth, home and hope and rolled into one. If there was anything that you had learnt so far in life, it’s that as long as you had Jaemin, you could handle anything.

---

You walked towards the park, listening as the swings slightly creaked in the breeze.

‘You know if we’d come here a couple of hours later this would be a horror movie in the making.’ Jaemin’s sudden voice from behind you made you jump.

You turned around to look at him, a smile on your face.

‘So this isn’t you coming to murder me? God don’t get my hopes up.’ You joked, watching as you got a smile in return and he moved towards you. You both sat down on the swings next to each other, sitting in silence for a moment.

‘How are you feeling?’ Jaemin asked, concern clear on his face.

‘Better.’ You replied honestly, sending him a reassuring smile. ‘How are you doing? Your dad still being a pain?’

‘Yeah.’ Jaemin sighed. ‘He’s a nightmare, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.’

‘I’m proud of you.’ You told him, your voice quietening as if it was a confession.

‘I know.’ Jaemin smiled. ‘I’m proud of you too.’

‘I know.’ You whispered, blinking away the tears that were threatening to gather at this moment. You knew he was proud of you, but actually hearing someone say the words out loud reached your heart. ‘Jaemin, we’re still getting out of here right?’

‘Of course. Just me and you.’ Jaemin nodded.

‘Somewhere no one knows us.’ You found yourself say the same wishes that the two of you had been making consistently throughout the years.

‘Where we can start fresh.’ Jaemin murmured, watching the clouds pass.

‘Somewhere we can be more than this place allowed us to be.’ You closed your eyes wistfully, thinking of this paradise.

‘Somewhere we can be together.’ You opened your eyes at Jaemin’s words, only to find him already looking at you.

‘Somewhere we can be together.’ You repeated, your body taking over your mind as you began to stand.

Jaemin followed your actions, lifting himself off the swing he was perched on. He moved towards you, reaching out with an arm and you stepped closer to him.

He pulled you in, one arm around your waist and the other cupping your face and he looked down at you. You fit so perfectly in his arms, as if you were made to be there. Jaemin’s eyes glanced down at your lips, and you nodded slightly, giving him permission.

Jaemin leant down, pausing for half a second before finally closing the gap. He pressed his lips to yours, kissing you with all the love he had in his body. You kissed him back, desperately hoping to convey your feelings for him through the kiss. You pressed your body into him, feeling Jaemin’s arm wrap further around your waist in response

You broke away slowly, keeping your faces close as you both gently caught your breath. Your eyes opened, looking up into the brown ones that had always brought you comfort. You found Jaemin looking down at you, with so much love on his face that it made you shy.

You couldn’t stop the smile that broke out on your face, the feeling of happiness that you had been deprived of your entire life, finally taking over your being and filling you to the brim.

You leant back into Jaemin, wanting more of this feeling that only he could provide. He was more addicting than any drug you’d ever taken and more intoxicating than any alcohol you’d ever consumed. You were completely and utterly addicted to the feeling of being loved and being in love.

Would you run away with me?

Three years later, and the two of you have fulfilled your promise and said goodbye to the town you grew up in. You felt freer than you had ever felt before in your entire life, and you never wanted to lose that feeling. The ghosts that had haunted you everyday were now nowhere to be found, allowing both you and Jaemin to start a completely new chapter together.

A couple of months after the death of Jaemin’s mother, lawyers came knocking at his door. They claimed to have her last will and testimony, something that Jaemin’s father didn’t know existed. It turns out that all her assets were left to Jaemin, and since Jaemin was now an adult it meant that he got everything. He ended up having the house, the car and a couple of shares that his mother had stored away. This angered Jaemin’s father immensely, but at the end of the day there was nothing he could do.

It finally seemed as though Jaemin’s troubles had a solution. His father had never gained any legal rights to Jaemin after relinquishing them when he left, so there was nothing the man could do to try and stay in his life and gain any access to the assets.

He was gone by the next morning.

A much happier Jaemin appeared at your door, immediately pulling you in for a hug when he told you the news. You couldn’t believe it. For the first time, things started to actually go your way. Then, Jaemin told you of his plan, it was only thanks to this plan of his that you were ever able to actually get away.

He put the house up for sale and cashed in the shares. The money he would gain from both of these gave you the chance to find a place for the two of you to live. You decided that, as soon as the house sold, you would get in the car and go.

The two of you searched and searched for the area you would move to, wanting to find the right place and, after a while, you stumbled upon it. An apartment just on the edge of the city. Close enough that it would easy to get in for any job you managed to get, yet far enough out that you still felt the privacy of it just being the two of you.

You started looking for jobs in the city, managing to find an opening at a large company. You quickly interviewed for them and were waiting to hear back from them. Jaemin was overjoyed with this news, it looked as though nothing could go wrong.

Then your mother passed away.

It was ruled as an overdose, the copious amounts that she was taking eventually became too much for her. Your father was in charge of organising her funeral, but he did nothing. It ultimately fell to you, and with Jaemin’s help, there was a small ceremony to lay her to rest. You knew you should probably feel worse about it than you did, but over the past ten years you had drifted so far away from her, that it felt as though you were burying a stranger.

Arriving back home after the funeral felt strange. Even though you felt nothing for your mother, you were still glad that you went. However, instead of mourning her death like everyone else there, you mourned the woman who was lost in the haze of drugs and abuse. You mourned the woman who used to sing you to sleep or bake you cookies on a sunny afternoon. You mourned the woman who, sadly, died a long time before her body did.

Your father took this as an excuse to turn his rage onto you. The morning after the funeral, he raised his hand at you, swinging blindly. But the blow he landed on your side was nothing compared to the counter attack that Jaemin launched on him. Jaemin had only been coming around to pick you up and witnessed first hand what your father was capable of. He called the police and you both watched as the man was dragged away in cuffs.

His trial was short. Like Jaemin had said, everyone knew everything about everyone in this town, so your father’s tendency to lash out wasn’t unknown. You watched him with no remorse, wishing him to stay out of your sight, mind and heart for the rest of time.

Then it was only you and Jaemin.

Like Jaemin, you gained ownership of your house and assets, allowing you to sell them as soon as possible. And, once the final offer on yours and Jaemin’s houses were accepted, you did as you’d decided to and climbed into his car together and took off, watching the town you grew up in shrink in the rear view mirror until it eventually disappeared.

You left everything behind, choosing to only bring with you a couple of prized possessions and each other. There wasn’t anything about that town that you would miss or regret leaving behind. Except, maybe that park.

There were whispers everywhere you went, reminding you of everything you had gone through and it was impossible to escape from anything when you were constantly surrounded by it. You couldn’t cross the bridge without thinking of Jaemin, you couldn’t pass the warehouse without having flashbacks of the night you both took Ecstasy and you couldn’t even walk around you own house without thinking of all the things you’d seen there.

So you ran away.

You often thought back to the days when you were children, playing Peter Pan in your garden and praying to grow up so that you could get your happy ever after.

Well, here you are, all grown up and still searching.

You’ve learnt that things take time to fall into place. Sometimes you have to wait a lot longer than you want to, a lot longer than you think you’re capable of, in order to find that perfect moment. You’ve learnt that you cannot be brave, without letting yourself be vulnerable. But you’ve also learnt, that when you’re vulnerable around the right person, it’s easy.

You don’t know what’s going to happen next. And, to be honest, you don’t want to. Life is an adventure for you now, and it’s one that you’re enjoying living. You know that you haven’t reached your happy ever after yet, and that’s simply because, your story isn’t over. But you didn’t mind, because you weren’t searching for it anymore. As long as you had Jaemin, happy ever after was always going to be right there.

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vivvyinvienna · 4 years

Text

the night we met (draco malfoy)

A/N: heyo! this is my first fic so pls be nice :) i hope you guys enjoy it! xoxo

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: Draco is haunted by the memories of his dead lover. Post-Battle of Hogwarts. Inspired by the Lord Huron song “The Night We Met.”

Warnings: alcohol, cursing, depression, angst, violence, blood, major character death

I am not the only traveler

Who has not repaid his debt

I've been searching for a trail to follow again

Take me back to the night we met

And then I can tell myself

What the hell I'm supposed to do

And then I can tell myself

Not to ride along with you

Draco languidly twirled the glass of firewhiskey in his hand. He watched as the amber liquid clung desperately to the sides before unfailingly slipping back. His drunken mind and hazy thoughts found amusement in it. They found amusement in a lot of things now. Like how he sat in front of the fireplace in a grand leather chair downing firewhiskey by the bottle every night; being every bit of the rich, spoiled Malfoy heir he was. Y/N would have told him that he was trying too hard to mourn in an aesthetic. And she would have been right.

The thought of her lifted him from his reverie. The glass of liquor stopped turning in his hand, instead it was brought to his lips, quickly downed in hopes of expelling her from his mind. In hopes of keeping out all the feelings that came alongside memories of her. It was why he drank in the first place, why he sat drunk and unrefined with his hair messed, shirt untucked, and suit rumpled.

But it didn’t work. It never really worked. Not even the strongest liquor from his father’s collection could rid his mind of her. Her lips, her touch, her soft breath on his shoulder from their last embrace was all tattooed on his soul. He didn’t really mind those. But it was the memories of her death, watching her body crumble and blood pour from her wounds, that made him want to obliviate himself. They stained his mind, weakened his body and ate at his soul.

After losing her at the Battle of Hogwarts, he constantly felt like he was a wandering traveler who’s path had run out. He was riddled with these feelings of guilt, sorrow, longing, and depression. There was always this painful feeling in his chest, like someone had a vice grip around his lungs and heart. While he was with Y/N there was always a nagging feeling that he was in debt to her. She had taught him the invaluable, that he could love and be loved. She had saved him in every manner a person could be saved. The feelings, thoughts, and pain he now faced was unrelenting, incessant, and unforgiving. He supposed it was a method of repaying his debt.

Looking towards the fireplace that was softly raging, he put down his glass. Chasing away the memories never worked, he didn’t know why he bothered trying every night. And with that, he resigned to his thoughts of her.

I had all and then most of you

Some and now none of you

Take me back to the night we met

Draco was laying on her bed in her Hufflepuff dorm. The windows facing the rolling hills were drawn up, letting in the warm glow of sunset. It bathed the room in this honey tint that made him feel warm and blissful. Laying on his side, he stared at the Y/H/C haired girl at the desk who was intensely focused on her books and notes.

“Angel?”

Your quill paused and you turned to let your Y/E/C eyes meet his. He thought your eyes were the most beautiful thing, they held the beauty and intensity of a thousand stars in his mind. He found everything beautiful about you really. The way your hair framed your face. Your delicate fingers whenever they entangled with his. The way your rosy lips tilted into a smile when you looked up at him.

“Yes, Draco?”

You had a slight smile and an extra twinkle in your eye as you answered him because you knew exactly what he was going to ask next.

As predicted, the blonde boy strewn across your bed softly, adoringly, and a tinge whiningly said, “Come lay with me for a bit.”

Looking back and forth between him and the DADA homework on your desk, you pouted while responding “I still have so much of Umbridge’s work to do though.”

Draco let out a dramatic groan and flipped onto his back before answering, “ You’re killing me, Y/N. What do I need to do to convince you?”

The truth was Draco didn’t need to do anything to persuade you, you were sick of Umbridge’s busy work. And after feeling his gaze caress you all afternoon, you craved his touch. But you decided to have a bit of fun.

“It’s killed meh. It’s killed meh.” You mocked.

You never let him live down that accident from third year. He covered his eyes and laughed in embarrassment before retaliating, “At least I didn’t get sent to the hospital wing because of a plant. You’re supposed to be good at herbology, badger.”

You feigned offense, “That’s not the point. The point is, I didn’t put on an entire theatrical performance like you felt the need to.” And with that, you started to walk towards the Slytherin boy on your bed. He pulled the covers back for you to join him when he noticed your approach.

“Ok, ok, fine. Just get in already, I’m getting cold.”

Once you settled into his arms, he watched as you snuggled deeper into his chest. With your guys legs intertwined and his arms encasing you, his heart felt content and at peace. He had everything he needed and wanted right in his arms.

You tilted your face up, and while looking adoringly at Draco you whispered, “I love you, you know?”

He gave you a soft smile that made the cold ice of his eyes melt. Putting his forehead against yours, he gently nudged your nose with his.

“I know. And I love you...” he paused, refocusing his gaze into your eyes, “more than anything.”

You smiled as he captured your lips in a kiss.

I don't know what I'm supposed to do

Haunted by the ghost of you

Oh, take me back to the night we met

Back in his leather chair in the cold drawing room of the Manor, he barely noticed the silent tears that escaped from his eyes. Tears seemed to be a constant now. The beautiful memories of her angelic voice and soft kisses and honey tints were once things that bewitched him. Now, they only served as an agonizing reminder of what he had lost. He craved, he so utterly craved for her tender caress. He could feel his own desperation causing aches from his chest all the way to his finger tips. What he would give to feel her presence wrapped around him one more time.

With his head hung forward and his hands tugging at his hair, convulsive yet inaudible sobs wracked his beaten frame. He wanted her back. He wanted to hold her hand as they walked in the garden. He wanted to pepper her face with kisses until she playfully pushed him away. He wanted to hear her gleeful shouts as they rode his broom together. He wanted to meet her again for the first time and relive their time together. Merlin he just wanted her back.

All he could do now was reminisce of his memories of them together. He was faced with a constant inner battle. Reliving their memories eased the hurt for a little while. But when he came back to his senses and his reality, it brought a raging pain of its own.

Some nights he couldn’t help himself. He drank until his vision blurred and then walked around the Manor looking for signs of her, to spark memories that he watched like movies. Tonight would be one of those nights he realized after stumbling onto a very specific patio. It was the patio where they met.

When the night was full of terrors

And your eyes were filled with tears

When you had not touched me yet

Oh, take me back to the night we met

Your family had been invited to the Malfoy Summer Solstice Ball, as were all the other notable pureblood wizarding families. You had your mother’s penchant for fashion, choosing to wear a champagne colored satin gown from one of your favorite designers. You quite enjoyed the dressing up and the excessive extravagance, but it was the company that was pitiful. The lavishly decorated ball room was filled with witches and wizards either trying to produce marriage arrangements or devise business contracts. Despite being freshly 14 and only going into your fourth year at Hogwarts, you were approached with multiple horrendous proposals.

Sometime during the night after Rowle Sr. suggested your hand for his 22 year old son, you slipped out of the ballroom in search of some quiet. What you found however, was Draco Malfoy on a patio. As awful as his reputation, you couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he was. It almost felt sacrilegious being so encaptured by the chisel of his cheekbones and the subtle arch of his brows. But he had the type of beauty that got into your bones and the moonlight only made him more enthralling.

Draco’s gaze settled on you a couple seconds after you had walked in. He recognized you, you were in the same herbology class. He’d never admit it but he always found the way your eyes flicked up from your paper to the person you were talking to, to be so subtly alluring.

Skipping over a normal greeting, his first word to you was merely, “Hufflepuff.” He had meant for it to be a question, but it came out a bit rougher than he anticipated. At least he hadn’t sneered.

True to your house’s values, you responded good naturedly, “Yes...and you’re in Slytherin.”

He nodded, pausing for a second as if contemplating whether to continue the conversation before asking, “Why are you out here?”

“Got tired of talking to old British men.” You answered honestly. “What about you? Why’d you come out here?”

He walked closer to where you were standing.

“Trying to get away from the witches,” he said as he leaned against the terrace railing.

You laughed lightly before jokingly asking, “The mothers? Or the girls?”

“Both,” he fiddled with his cufflinks. “Were the old British men trying to get you to marry their sons?”

“They were. None of them were very convincing though.”

“I hope my father didn’t try.”

“Would it be so terrible to be married to me?”

You could see a quick eyebrow raise from him, pleasantly surprised.

“I’m just concerned that our home decorating styles won’t match.” His voice lacked his usual bite and his face was without his habitual sneer.

“You know most people don’t choose their life partners based on interior design styles.”

Your comment elicited an amused huff from the blonde boy. “I wish my mother did, then I wouldn’t have to live in this ghastly manor.”

He was right, filled with antiques and dark artifacts, the manor was downright depressing. “It’s...” you struggled to find a non offensive description. “It has its own charm. You just have to romanticize it a bit.” You were unconvincing.

“This is why the sorting hat put you in Hufflepuff.”

“Better than Slytherin,” you retorted.

He wanted to laugh, even the idea of you in Slytherin was amusing. “You’d get eaten alive by our first-years.”

He was right, but that didn’t mean you let up, “Funny. Have you made anyone cry yet today?”

“No, but luckily it’s only 9 o’clock.”

The two of you talked long into the night. As he listened to your stories, random literary interpretations, and takes on the world he found himself more and more enamored. He was enamored with the little shrug you seemed to always end your rants in. Enamored with your laughs that always came at the right time when he talked. Enamored with the strange feeling in his gut he didn’t quite know how to identify when your hand briefly grazed his thigh.

Draco found your company to be tantalizingly novel. Sitting on adirondack chairs, sharing nothing but stories with you felt weirdly intimate. It felt like friendship, a word woefully foreign on his tongue. Perhaps it was because he met you in a setting outside of Hogwarts, a place where he didn’t have to puff his chest and wear his Slytherin crown. But for the first time in maybe his entire life, it felt like he made a friend. And it wouldn’t be until later when he realized that Y/N was also the love of his life.

I had all and then most of you

Some and now none of you

Take me back to the night we met

Draco sat in the same adirondack chair he had the night he met you, looking at the empty chair to his right. A sullen expression was permanently etched on his face as he ran through the same thought over and over and over. I wish she was here. I wish she was here. I wish she was here. Lost in a trance, he didn’t notice his mother enter the patio until her shoes were in his line of sight.

Narcissa’s heart ached to see her son this way. So lost and so resigned. Every ounce of spirit and hope seemed to have vanquished as he processed Y/N’s death. She remembered the struggle of tearing him away from her dead body and bringing him back to the manor.

As the battle was in its final moments, Narcissa knew that her family needed to leave to avoid Azkaban. But Draco hadn’t wanted to leave her yet, he wasn’t ready to let go. Her and Lucius were forced to physically rip them a part. With Lucius holding him down and Narcissa prying her from his grasp. He pleaded and begged and cried and screamed. The raw pain and desperation in his screams as Y/N finally slipped from his grasp was something Narcissa would never forget. Once the three of them were apparated into the manor’s drawing room, Draco had collapsed in her arms choking on sobs and violent words cursing them. He was inconsolable, Narcissa tried. She held him, comforted him, but she knew it wasn’t her arms he needed. There was only one person who could rid his pain, but no amount of money in their Gringotts vault could bring back the dead.

Back on the patio, she quietly approached him.

“Draco?”

He looked up. Behind the sorrow in his eyes there was the slightest bit of resentment. He still hadn’t found it in himself to fully forgive her. It was even worse with his father. He couldn’t look at Lucius without turning breathless with anger.

“Draco,” she placed a hand gently on his shoulder, “it’s late. We should get you to bed.”

He merely blinked away, looking back at the empty chair instead. Narcissa noticed that he did that often, looking at the empty spaces next to him. Spaces that she was supposed to be in. He did it at the dining table on the rare occasions he’d join her for meals. He did it in the library, riveted by the black couch they frequented. And he did it while laying in his bed, always slightly off center, as if leaving room for someone.

It took a bit more coaxing from Narcissa to get Draco to his room. After he was settled in his bed, he closed his eyes succumbing to the nightmares that would undoubtedly come.

I had all and then most of you

Some and now none of you

Take me back to the night we met

“Dra...Dray. Dray, ho..hold me. Please.”

He knew the end was nearing, white hot panic flooded him. Blood surrounded you, coating the dirty cement floor and his hands. He lifted you gingerly into his arms, scared to hurt you even more.

“Ok. Ok. Of course, Angel. I’m right here. I’m right here. You’re gonna be okay, it’s gonna be ok.” He was rambling now.

His hand cupped your cheek, keeping your eyes on him. Rocking back and forth, he looked into your eyes and studied your face.

“Angel, don’t do this to me. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

You brought your hand up, grabbing onto his wrist. You were too weak to respond at that point, you were too far gone. You both knew. But a small smile ghosted your features as you looked at your love. Your love, your love, your love. You kept looking at him as you felt yourself slip farther and farther away. It was just like sleeping.

Draco’s silver hair fell into his face as looked down at the girl in his arms with an ocean between his lashes. He watched as she gave him that last little smile, with his hand still cupping her cheek. First, her hand’s grip loosened on his wrist. Then, her face went expressionless. And too sudden and far too soon, the light in her eyes were gone.

Y/N Y/L/N was dead.

A guttural, visceral sob erupted from the silver haired boy. He cried out, cursing the gods above and cursing fate for taking her from him so soon. His screams were strained with an indescribable and insurmountable amount of pain. He clawed at his chest, hoping he could somehow rip out the searing feeling that riddled his shattered heart.

He pressed his face in to the crook of her neck, sobbing thickly, muttering desperate pleas of help. But it was pitiful and it was nonsense, for death was unforgiving and death was final. Her arms, which once were used to caress and comfort him, now hung limp at her sides. There was a fiery anguish in his chest that was so colossal he could feel it radiate all through his body. Draco clung onto her dead body with as much strength as he could muster, as if sheer willpower could revive her somehow. The blood from her fatal wound covered Draco’s hands and clothes. It was a gruesomely harrowing scene: a forever broken boy clinging to a dead girl.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that, kneeling on his knees while clutching his dead lover. The battle raged on around him as he remained in his penitent posture, praying to every deity, God, and powerful being he could think of to bring her back. When he finally found the strength to lift his head from the crook of her neck, the sight of her clouded eyes and paling skin sent another volley of shards into his chest. With an unsteady hand, he shut her eyes.

Draco gently pulled her into his lap, moving with the same amount of attentiveness as if she was still alive. His hands, still trembling, carefully smoothed her hair. He drank her face in more fervently than ever before, for this would be the last time he saw her. This would be the last time he could hold her. His angel, his beautiful angel was dead and soon he would be forced to let her go. He pressed his lips on hers as he’s done a thousand times before, but when her lips remained unmoving and were cold against his, a new set of sobs wracked his body.

The grieving boy sat in the midst of a battlefield, uncaring that he was defenseless. Draco sat there, silently hoping that someone would take mercy on him. Silently praying that someone would see him wandless and alone, and slay him. He knew this pain was carved into his heart and engraved in his soul. He knew that he would only be relieved of it when death came for him too.

I don't know what I'm supposed to do

Haunted by the ghost of you

Take me back to the night we met

Dear Y/N,

You’re dead, you won’t ever read this. I’m not entirely sure why I’m writing this. Maybe it’s a plea of help, maybe it’s how I’ll heal. Either way, it makes me feel like I’m talking to you, like I haven’t lost everything. But I’m just deluding myself.

It hurts to live without you. Time keeps ticking forward, the world moving with it, but all I can think about is when I was last with you. Every night I slip into dreams of you. Sometimes, rarely, they’re good ones. But I wake up and you’re not there. Most nights, I’m watching you bleed and die in my arms. That dream never fails in hurting me. But what really breaks me, is after I drag myself awake, I realize I’m already living my worst fear. You’re already dead. It’s not a nightmare, it’s a memory.

Everything died with you, Y/N. I thought that once the war was over, my life could truly start. I’d finally be free from that world. I didn’t realize that the end of the war meant the end of us too. Every single plan we made for the future is gone. All my someday’s and one day’s died with you. I no longer have anyone to marry, to have children with, to grow old with. I feel robbed. I was supposed to have a whole life with you, not just a few measly school years. Even a lifetime wouldn’t have been enough for me. I want every lifetime with you, on this earth or the next.

I’m still holding you tight in my mind, it’s strange you’re not here with me. My heaven was here on earth with you. But ever since you’ve gone, the days have been getting darker and darker. I love you, I miss you.

Yours Forever,

Draco

#draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco x hufflepuff!reader #draco x y/n #harry potter #hogwarts #slytherin #angst #draco imagine #draco fanfiction #harry potter imagine #draco angst #draco fluff

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thatsassyhufflepuff · 3 years

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Stronger Than Blood Chapter 31: Felicity

Summary: Hufflepuff witch Felicity Zabini struggles to find normalcy as she enters into her 6th year at Hogwarts, reeling from her father’s sudden death and her mother’s quick remarriage into the Zabini family. If only she had known that discovering Draco Malfoy falling apart in the bathroom would spiral into so much more.

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: angst, fluff, cursing

Read chapter 1 here!

Ao3

“Lissie, come on, we have to move,” Blaise tugged on my arm. I snatched it away, tears streaming down my cheeks.

“No! Draco, stop!” I tried to run back to his side, but Blaise restrained me. “Let me go, Blaise! Draco!” I thrashed against my brother, desperate to reach my boyfriend-

“Felicity?”

I was snapped out of my thoughts by a timid, familiar voice. I whirled around, having trouble focusing on anything other than rubble and students sobbing. Blaise had gone to check on Theo, Hannah, and Astoria. After a moment I spotted the owner of the voice.

“Teddy?” I gaped at the sheepish boy who had soot all over his face. “What in Merlin’s name are you doing here?” I grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him to me in a hug. For once, the young Hufflepuff boy didn’t push me away, instead wrapping his arms around my waist and returning my hug.

“I had to make sure you were okay,” he said, stepping away from me. Tears filled my eyes; I wasn’t sure how I had any tears left, really.

“You silly boy,” I sniffed, shaking my head, trying to scold him. “Your parents must be worried sick! You should’ve gone home with the rest of the younger students. What if you had been discovered?”

Teddy rolled his eyes at me. “Why would I need to go home? You sounded just like my mum just then. Besides, no one saw me.”

“5 points from Hufflepuff for your cheek,” I said, then smiled at him. “But thank you. I’m so glad you’re okay. Now let’s get you home, yeah?”

I placed a hand on Teddy’s shoulder, steering him through the crowd as I searched for a familiar face.

“Miss Zabini, I see that you have survived.”

I stiffened immediately, turning around to face Narcissa Malfoy, who was a painful reminder of her son in that moment. I sucked in a lungful of air.

“Yes, well…” I gestured to Teddy. “I’m trying to get Teddy here home, so if you’d excuse me-”

“Felicity,” Her voice softened, which successfully stopped my babbling. “The war is over. You and Draco are free to choose each other. Please know that you have my blessing. I’ve already informed the Greengrasses—”

“Your son made his choice,” I said, cutting her off. “And he didn’t choose me. It’s a pity you turned down the Greengrass family. Astoria is a lovely girl.”

Teddy, I noted for the first time, was watching the exchange with a perplexed but amused smile on his face.

“Not a word,” I mouthed to him, which only made his smile widen.

“She is lovely,” Narcissa agreed, politely ignoring my interaction with my housemate. “But he doesn’t look at her the way he looks at you.”

I felt my cheeks flush despite myself, shooting Teddy a dirty look when he laughed silently behind his hand.

“It’s fascinating, you know.” The Malfoy matriarch continued. I tried not to grit my teeth at her.

“What’s fascinating?”

“The way Blaise and Draco are with you,” she answered. “They were raised in the exact same way, in the exact same circles, even with some of the same tutors.” Her blue eyes didn’t waver from mine. “Yet they both seem to have a weak spot for you. Why do you think that is?”

I shrugged, my hand tightening on Teddy’s shoulder. “I haven’t the foggiest.”

“It manifests itself in different ways, of course.” Narcissa went on. I closed my eyes briefly, trying not to snap at her to just go away.

“How’s that?”

The older witch smiled. “Blaise? The boy would die for you; that much is obvious. But my Draco…” She hesitated. “He would live for you, my dear. Remember that.”

I bit my tongue to stop myself from saying something I’d regret.

“Thank you for the sentiment,” I replied when I trusted myself to speak. “Teddy and I should get going…”

Narcissa waved a hand impatiently. “I can deliver him home safely. Our Floo is still in working condition at the Manor. Would that be alright with you?” She looked at Teddy, smiling warmly. Teddy looked up at me with uncertainty.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to bother you, Mrs. Malfoy.” I said weakly.

“It’s not a bother, dear,” Narcissa countered. “In fact, I insist. Your friends are probably waiting for you.”

I ran a hand through my hair that was damp with sweat, letting out a frustrated sigh. I squeezed Teddy’s shoulder, kneeling down so we were at eye-level.

“You’re safe to go with Mrs. Malfoy,” I told him, brushing soot off of the shoulders of his robes. “No acting up, do you understand? Your parents need you home in one piece.”

“Yes, Mum,” Teddy groused, though I could tell he was trying not to smile.

“Good. Now go,” I kissed his forehead, laughing when he sprang away from me, wiping his forehead with his sleeve.

I straightened, nodding at Narcissa. “Thank you.”

The other witch merely nodded before taking Teddy by the hand and Apparating away.

I exhaled shakily, scrubbing a hand over my face.

“She’s right, you know.” A voice said from behind me, a voice I hadn’t heard for quite a while but hoped I would never forget.

I turned around, then gasped.

“Sweet Merlin,” I breathed, my eyes filling with tears. “Dad?”

My breath caught as he stepped towards me, his familiar scent of pine and musk washing over me. I blinked.

“Are you real?” I whispered.

Dad laughed, his eyes warm as he touched my cheek with fingers that were indeed solid.

“Last I checked, I’m really dead, yes. But real nonetheless.”

I couldn’t keep the tears at bay when he said that. My father quickly pulled me into his arms, holding me close and stroking my hair the way he used to when I was a little girl.

“How are you here?” I choked out, still crying into his shoulder. “I’m not dead, am I?”

“No, sweetheart.” He squeezed my shoulders. “You’re not dead. But you’ve seen death, and can therefore see me.” Dad held me away from him, seeming to memorize my features. “I can’t believe how much you’ve grown.”

I gave him a weak smile. “I’m seventeen now, Dad. I’d be concerned if I looked the same as I did when I was 15 or 16.”

“Seventeen.” Dad shook his head, eyes shining with wonder. “Almost an adult in the States. Is there a boyfriend I need to worry about?”

I nearly choked on my own spit. “B-boyfriend?”

Dad winked. “For what it’s worth, I like that boy of yours. He seems...difficult at times, but he treats you like the treasure you are, and that’s all I could ask for as your father.” He brushed a knuckle down my cheek tenderly. “Give him a chance to explain, honey.”

I lowered my eyes to the ground. “I don’t want to talk about Draco,” I whispered, swiping at the tears that leaked out of my eyes. Then something occurred to me.

“Dad...you act as if you’ve...I dunno, met Draco before. But that’s impossible, right?” When he didn’t reply right away, I narrowed my eyes on him. “Right?”

“I know that look, Liss.” My father rubbed his temples, as if he was getting a headache from the great beyond. “Honey, please try not to assassinate him after a war just ended.”

I was so angry that I couldn’t speak, but then I heard my name again. Blaise, Hannah, and Theo were walking up to me; Only Hannah didn’t shrink back at the look of rage in my eyes, rushing into my arms and hugging me tightly.

“Thank Merlin you’re okay!” she pulled back to frown up at me. “For Godric’s sake, Fee, what’s got you so--” Then, she looked past me and gasped. “Mr. Cannon? Is that really you?”

My dad stepped forward and offered my best friend a small smile. “It’s good to see you again, Hannah. I’m...visiting, I guess you could say.”

Hannah’s wide blue eyes were full of questions, but I shook my head, shooting her a look that said I would tell her later.

“Which one of you is Blaise?” Dad asked, looking between Blaise and Theo curiously. Blaise’s dark eyes were wide. Theo looked only slightly less amused than usual as he gave my father a vaguely offended snort.

“I--I am, sir.” Blaise stammered. “Merlin’s beard, you’re…” He looked at me, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“Blaise, this is my dad,” I gestured between them. “Dad, this is Blaise Zabini, my stepbrother.”

“Your brother for all intents and purposes,” The Slytherin corrected, slinging a playful arm around my shoulders. I huffed and shrugged his arm off. When I caught Theo’s wounded expression, I rolled my eyes, a bit exasperated.

“And this is Theodore Nott, Dad. Theo, meet my father.”

“Wait until I tell Draco I met his girlfriend’s father before he did,” Theo replied with a snort, sticking out his hand for my father to shake. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

All of my anger returned, but before I could speak, my father stepped forward and shook Theo’s hand firmly. “Nice to meet you. And you, Blaise.” His eyes were particularly warm as they landed on my brother. “Thank you for looking after my daughter. It means more to me than you know.”

Blaise shuffled his feet uncomfortably but nodded.

“Actually, Theo,” I interjected, clenching my fists. “My father was just informing me that he’s already met Draco before. Funny how I’m not hearing that from my boyfriend himself. But none of you know anything about that, of course.”

Hannah gave my hand a comforting squeeze. “I’d never keep something like that from you, Fee.”

“First I’m hearing of it,” Theo agreed, which left Blaise, who suddenly looked even more uncomfortable than he had before. I glared at him.

“Tell me you didn’t know, Blaise.” I said through gritted teeth.

“Lissie--”

“Tell. Me. You. Didn’t. Know!”

“I…” His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down in his throat as he swallowed nervously. “I didn’t know?” I glared harder, which made him shrink back. “Bloody hell, witch, I knew, okay? Don’t hex me!”

Blood roared in my ears. “Not to worry, brother dear.” I gave him a saccharine smile. “I’ll be dealing with you after I hex the living daylights out of Draco Malfoy.”

***

It didn’t take long to find him. Students were loudly celebrating in the Great Hall, which is where I found the Malfoy family sitting, looking quite uncomfortable. Draco spotted me first, springing to his feet, rushing towards me.

“Fliss! Thank Merlin you’re okay, I--”

The look on his face was comical as I slapped him, but I hardly cared, and I certainly wasn’t laughing.

“How. Bloody. Dare. You!” I seethed, shoving him back with the flats of my hands. “You met my father and didn’t think to tell me?” I shoved him again. “And you go off on me for keeping secrets? When you meet my bloody father and don’t tell me about it?” I shoved him so hard he toppled to the ground, scrambling back on his hands and feet. “You, Draco Malfoy, are the biggest arsehole-”

Draco scrambled to his feet, holding up his hands placatingly. “Please, Fliss, I can explain-”

“Flipendo!”

Before I knew what was happening, I was on the ground, gasping.

“Bloody hell, Father!” Draco growled, helping me to my feet quickly. Lucius Malfoy sneered down at me.

“Apologies, son.” He said with a sniff. “I was simply preventing the mutt from assaulting you further.”

“Shall I turn my wand on you while you’re not a rotting piece of shit in Azkaban?” I snarled, reaching for my wand stored in a makeshift wand-sheath at my elbow, but Draco’s hand came down on my shoulder, holding me back.

“I would like to see you try, mutt.” Lucius sneered, reaching for his own wand, but Narcissa approached quickly, dragging him back, hissing something into his ear.

“Can we please not have this discussion here?” The Slytherin cupped my cheeks in the palms of his hands tentatively, wincing when I jerked my head away.

“Fine.” I took a breath. “You have five sodding minutes to explain yourself in a location of your choosing. The clock starts now.”

***

Draco was silent as he led me towards an empty classroom, and I wanted to laugh at the irony of it all. We were back to where we started, in a classroom at odds with one another yet again. I wondered if we would always be at odds somehow, if this was what our relationship was destined to become.

I watched as the Slytherin shut the door, surprised that he’d managed to find a classroom that was safe to sit in, what with the castle being in shambles. I folded my arms, waiting for him to speak.

“I…” he raked a hand through his hair, unable to look me in the eye. “I don’t suppose telling you I’m sorry would make a difference?” His gray eyes flickered to mine.

“Not right now it wouldn’t!” I scowled. “Honestly, Draco, are you dense?”

“I’d like to think that my intellect is quite superior-“ At my glare, he coughed and hurriedly added, “but that’s not the point. Obviously.”

“Unbelievable.” I threw up my hands, laughing incredulously. “You don’t even realize what you did wrong, do you?”

A muscle in Draco’s jaw jumped as he gritted his teeth. Silence from Draco Malfoy was an answer in and of itself, unfortunately.

“Draco,” My voice broke. I cleared my throat and began again. “Draco. You know how much my father’s death has affected me. How could you keep this from me? If I had been able to see him-“

“You wouldn’t have,” the Slytherin cut in. “He told me as much. By that point, you hadn’t seen death.”

My eyebrows lowered. “Just how long ago did you meet my father?”

He suddenly seemed to find the floor very interesting.

“When we visited the States.”

I felt like I’d been punched in the gut, all the air in my lungs leaving me at once. Tears began to spill down my cheeks as I stared up at him.

“How could you keep this from me?” I whispered. “All this time…”

My boyfriend took a tentative step towards me, holding his hands up placatingly. “Fliss, I was just trying to protect you!”

“Protect me?” I cried, taking a step towards him until we were practically nose to nose. “Damn you and your family’s protection, Draco Malfoy! Why in the bloody blazes would I need to be protected from seeing my own bloody father again? I don’t care if he’s a ghost, he’s him, and he’s there, and he hasn’t been for so long, Dray! Don’t you see?” A sob escaped my lips. “I would’ve even settled with seeing your memories of him! I’ve missed him so much, Draco, and you took the possibility of seeing him again, even through someone else’s eyes, away from me.”

The Slytherin’s face darkened with understanding, anguish marring his angular features. He reached out a hand to thumb my tears away, not looking surprised when I stepped away from him then.

“Felicity, I’m-“

Suddenly, the door swung open. I yelped and whirled around, my eyes widening when I saw that two large men held Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy with their hands behind their backs.

“Draco Malfoy, for crimes committed against the rightful Ministry and the Wizarding world, I have no choice but to arrest you as you await your trial. It is there that your fate will be decided. Wand above your head,” said a rather ragged but important looking man.

I watched with horror as Draco stepped away from me, his shoulders slumped, as if he’d known this was coming. He showed them empty hands.

“Potter has my wand.” He said curtly, stepping towards the man. I snapped out of my temporary shock, lunging forward.

“Stop! What is this, who are you?” I glared at the man who wrenched Draco’s hands behind his back, securing him next to his parents. Only then did he meet my eyes.

“Kingsley Shacklebolt, your new acting Minister of Magic...for the time being, anyway. And you are?”

“Felicity Zabini, sir, his girlfriend.”

Kingsley arched an eyebrow at that piece of information. “Are you a traitor as well, then?”

“What? No!” I clenched my fists. “Where are you taking him? What’s going to happen?”

The acting Minister of Magic leveled a serious look at me. “You heard the charges, did you not?” He countered. “These are crimes worthy of Azkaban, Miss Zabini. Do not expect Mr. Malfoy to go unpunished.” He turned to his men. “Let’s go.”

With a crack, all of them Apparated out of the room, leaving me trembling in their wake.

Chapter 32

~~~

taglist: @beforeoursunsets @typewriting101 @sadgirlnumber92899 @rosiehufflepuff @desiredmalfoy @riddleswh0r3crux @is-it-really-a-secret

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sleepylixie · 4 years

Text

That Mixtape Love- 2

Fantasy AU, College!AU, Bang Chan X fem! Reader

That Mistape Love || Trailer || Part-1

3.3k words, Angst/Fluff. Beware of: mentions of a bad household(not abusive, not explicit), inexplicit making out.

A/N: So it comes to an end. This story has been one of my biggest passion projects, despite only being a two shot. Once again, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this! Do let me know what you think about this final installation of Chan’s story in the Solis Universe, I’m all for critique and feedback ^_^

Drop me an ask || Masterlist

Under heavy skies in the rain, You're dancing in your bare feet, just like we're in a movie

“Chan look! It’s raining!!” Your eyes sparkled with excitement as you dashed to the nearest library window, eyes trained on the off-season rain. Chan watched your movement from his seat at your shared table . You’d been trying to get an assignment out of the way while he’d been studying for midterms when the rain struck- and it was like a switch had flipped in you.

You’d always been weak for peaceful rains, the ones that started as a drizzle and became a downpour, not loud or blinding with thunder and lightning. The rains had always fanned the small childish streak that lived in you and brought back warm memories from old times.

“Let’s go!” You rushed back to him, hurriedly stuffing your books into your bag, pushing Chan’s things towards him. “But where are we going?” Chan exclaimed-well, whisper shouted, because you were still in the library. “Downstairs, I want to enjoy it while it starts!” You giggled, pecking his cheek quickly before unceremoniously tossing his bag and books onto his lap. “Hurry!”

“Okay, okay, patience, Seashell.” Your eyes were still trained on the rain, an uncharacteristically free smile pasted across your face. Chan shook his head in amusement as he collected his things and you didn’t waste a second before dragging him across the library and outside, the warm scent of wet earth hitting the two of you head-on. You took a deep breath of the scented air, and it was like the stress of the college week had left your body. It felt glorious. Without a second thought, you dropped your bag, shucked off your shoes and stepped onto the cobblestones that led to the library, allowing the raindrops to hit your face and skin.

“Y/N, What are you doing?” Chan called out but you were lost to the world in your euphoria, the sheer joy that came with rare rains like this. “It’s called dancing in the rain, honey.” You laughed, your face turned skyward with the same free smile on your face. “You’re a walking romance cliche.” Chan chuckled as you twirled in the rain, your hair getting rapidly drenched by the downpour. “It’s the best feeling ever! Jen and I did this a lot back home.”

You finally turned to look at Chan and it was like his breath stopped in his chest- at that moment, there was nothing more beautiful than the way you looked, hair stuck to your forehead, barefoot on the cobblestones, with that gorgeous smile that rarely ever graced your face. It was sight that prompted him to pull off his jacket and shoes and step into the downpour. You were right. There was something in the rain that grounded him more than he expected, the gentle pressure of the raindrops hitting his skin.

A happy shriek escaped your chest when damp arms encircled your body, lifting you and twirling you around. “I didn’t know you were a rain person!” You laughed when Chan set you down, turning around to push some stray strands of damp hair that hung over his eyes. He smiled at you, his eyes crinkling in that familiar way that left soft creases at the corners.

“I’m not, but for you, I just might.”

Coz baby we’re just reckless kids, Trying to find an island in the flood.

You make it look like it's magic 'Cause I see nobody, nobody but you, you, you

His lips felt like a different kind of warmth this time- not warm, hot. This kiss was different from the soft pecks you’d shared, this was open-mouthed kisses you couldn’t help but melt into. This was a red-hot passion that coursed through you, that pushed you closer to him, burying your hands in his hair as you tilted your head, letting the kiss deepen. Chan’s mouth was firm against yours, almost rough- but this time, he had to pull back with what felt like visible effort, hands tightening slightly around you. “You’re okay with where this is going, Seashell?” He breathed out, looking down at you.

“Yes.” You didn’t bother with too many words when he was standing in front of you, looking at you with that... That hungry look in his eyes. Grabbing a fistful of his shirt, you pulled him down into another searing kiss, flinging your other arm around his neck. He gasped in surprise but quickly recovered, now letting his hands skim the bottom of your shirt to graze at the sensitive skin of your waist. You shuddered softly into the kiss- you didn’t know a simple touch could have you weak like this.

The sharp zing of electricity sparked your veins when Chan’s hands slipped down to hook your legs around his waist, hoisting you up against him and the wall. The warmth your kisses had started with was now a raging wildfire, from the way your hands unabashedly attempted to unbutton the rest of his shirt and the roughness of his hands squeezing your legs and nestling himself further between your legs.

When he began placing breathy open-mouthed kisses against your skin, nipping gently at your jaw, earlobe, neck... you couldn’t help but let your head rest against the wall with a soft moan, his actions sparking a carnival in your head that you couldn’t help but revel in. He’d begun a gradual ascent up the hem of your shirt, his cool fingertips coaxing soft shivers up your spine.

“We can stop whenever you want, seashell…” He murmured, pulling back and placing a kiss on your nose- an action so at odds with the lust-charged minutes you’d been sharing before. Your skirt shifted higher up your legs when you pressed your body closer to Chan’s, knowing full well that your action would work just as well as words, but-

“I don’t want to stop, Chan. I’m sure.”

I swear on my life that I've been a good girl Tonight, I don't wanna be her

This morning I said we should talk about it 'Cause I read you should never leave a fight unresolved

“Y/N, Come on, open the door.” Chan’s voice was loud, albeit a little muffled because he was on the other side of the door, locked out of your room.

Jennie had gone on a soul-searching trip for the weekend and you’d decided to stay back, claiming to be tired- the only thing that felt tired was your mind. The days had been dragging a little too much recently, and the overwhelming stress of university and part-timing had begun to get to you. It didn’t help that your power needed a good amount of control to keep from going haywire and changing the frequencies of all the auras around you. Jennie knew your moods, so she often left you to your own devices until you worked it out by yourself, sometimes pigging out over junk foods and atrociously bad horror movies with you. Chan, however, was new to this. So here he stood outside your bedroom door, beyond concerned.

You curled up further around the pillows on your bed, head spinning and slightly deadened. How were you supposed to voice the words for what you were feeling? A sigh escaped your lips when another urgent knock landed on your door, courtesy of your boyfriend. “Chan, I’m fine. Just go back home, okay?” You called out, voice raspy from the disuse.

“No, I’m worried about you, Y/N.” Chan retorted from beyond the locked door. “You’ve been off for the whole week and you’ve been avoiding me.” His voice raised slightly from what sounded like mild annoyance. “Can you blame me for being concerned?”

You let your gaze wander to your room door. You hated looking weak. You hated feeling vulnerable like this, feeling like a liability to the people around you. How were you supposed to tell Chan that without coming off like a crazy person?

“I don’t want to see anybody right now, Chan, please.” You steeled your voice as you spit the words out, more acidic than you intended it to. “Just leave. I’ll text you later if that’s what you want.”

An exasperated sound ripped from Chan’s throat as he jiggled the doorknob again. “This isn’t about you texting me, Y/N! I’m worried there’s something wrong and you’re having to deal with it alone. I just want to help. Why can’t you just let me help?!”

Tears welled up in your eyes uninvited; there was an unfamiliar sharpness to Chan’s tone that you’d never heard before. Was he tired of you?

“Because I don’t want your help!” You yelled back, your voice cracking slightly.

The instant, deafening silence that you got in response had the tears sliding down your face some more. Did he leave? God, why couldn’t you just be normal and accept help when you need it? A slight tremor shook your fingers as you dragged the blanket out of the bed with you, padding towards the door and unlocking it. Faced with the empty corridor in front of your now open door, a sob escaped your lips. Of course, he left. Why would he stick around after you screamed at him like that?

Slinging the blanket around your shoulders, you dragged yourself towards the kitchen- only to stop short at the sight of Chan sitting on the kitchen counter, looking uncharacteristically diminutive with his hunched shoulders. The second he caught sight of you, he jumped off the counter, his soft grey aura barely a fuzzy field around him- thin like he had retreated into himself. Your heart wrenched uncomfortably at the sight- it was your fault he looked like that.

“I get it if you want to break up with me, Y/N.” His voice was quiet, lacking the usually bubbly sunshine that filtered through it. You stared at him incredulously through teary eyes. “W-what?”

“You’ve been avoiding me because you’ve wanted to break up and didn’t know how to say it. Am I right?” He was still speaking quietly, but there was suddenly a tinge of bitterness to it. Did he think that- “Don’t worry, I won’t hate you, I promise-”

“Are you crazy?” The words slipped out of your mouth uninhibited, along with the torrential outburst of tears. “You’re one of the best things that college brought to me, why would I want to break up with you!?” You wailed, sinking to the floor in a puddle of blanket and tears. “College gets to me sometimes Chan,and my parents keep calling to yell at me, and my power goes haywire if I meet too many people and- and-” Your next words were muffled by Chan’s shoulder when he knelt next to you, pulling you into his familiar warmth.

“And I keep feeling like I’m not enough for you,” you mumbled out softly, but Chan’s proximity to you meant he heard the words. He pulled back, a confused look on his face. “I have a power I can barely control, I’m probably the moodiest person you’ve ever met, I’m not particularly pretty either-”

Before you could go on, Chan’s finger on your lips shushed you. “I’m not going to hear any more self-slander until you get yourself freshened up. Eat something, and we can slander ourselves to your hearts’ content. Sounds good?”

Something about that sentence had you giggling waterily, your face reflected in Chan’s eyes when they crinkled in a small smile. “Okay.”

As it turned out, the two of you didn’t indulge in the slander-session at all. Just junk food and atrociously bad horror movies, then Chan calling Jisung to get some of his clothes so he could stay overnight with you. It was warm. Nice. Unforgettable.

Stay, stay, stay I've been loving you for quite some time, time, time

I swear to God, when I come home I'm gonna hold you so close

“How’s home?” You asked, your voice quiet. You were perched on the window seat in your room, watching soft snowflakes float from the night sky down to the ground. “Home’s nice, Seashell.” Chan’s voice was a shot of warmth, shooting across your chest and down your spine. “My mom nearly kicked me out of the house for not bringing you home with me. The family’s dying to meet you.” You giggled into your fingers, the warmth being replaced with something colder, more...bittersweet.

It was halfway through Winter Break, and you’d chosen to come back home with Jennie, as had Chan, whose family lived in the same city as Solis University. While your family was overjoyed to have you back home, it was evident that you’d only returned to the same shattered semblance of a family you’d left behind. You spent your days either cooped up in your room in the name of studies or at Jennie’s place, her parents only too willing to have you over.

Chan, on the other hand, had been raised in a large, happy family that had never known separation. It was obvious, with the way he was so easy with his words, like he’d never had to think twice about his opinions. You wished you could see him in his element, back in his family home- surely he’d look as handsome as he always did, his smile lighting up his eyes and nose permanently tinged pink from the cold…

“I miss you, Chan.” Your voice was quiet, uncertain- saying your true feelings out loud still felt strange sometimes. Your aura shook sadly around you, pulsating around your heart when you heard Chan’s soft sigh. “I miss you too, Seashell. So much.” You could almost envision his grey aura retreating into his skin around him, the thought sending another pang of longing across your mind.

“I regret coming back here. It feels so cold and empty. I miss how Solis feels. With Jennie, and Jinyoung at work, going to Luna’s with you. All of that feels more like home to me than..than this shell I’ve come back to. I’ve always felt that I’d be better off if I never came back here, but I keep doing it anyway in the fear that it might be the wrong choice. They’re family after all. ”

This was no longer home for you. It hadn’t been for years. Home was the family you’d found in Solis University- Jennie, your inner circle of crazy classmates, your manager at your part-time, Chan. Home was the shared apartment with your best friend, the lattes your manager would sneak to you mid-shift, banter with Chan at Luna’s…

“Seashell, if you want to leave, leave.” This was yet another thing you loved about Chan- when it came down to it, he was relentless in making sure you were safe and happy. It was a cutthroat protective instinct that drove him to provide unfiltered advice to anybody that came to him, wanting nothing but the best for the people he cared about- even if it meant destroying some part of himself. “I’m sure Jennie agrees with me when I say that your family hasn’t been a family to you for a long time. You don’t deserve that in your life. Don’t cut them off entirely if you’re not sure. But you came to Solis hoping to distance yourself from them. If you have nothing to lose from the distance, I feel like you shouldn’t wait and think about it anymore.”

His words only echoed the thoughts that had been plaguing the back of your mind ever since you came to Solis. Chan was right, you realised. You really did have nothing to lose. Maybe one day down the line, you’d come to terms with the effect your broken family had left on you, but until then..

Until then, you’d keep your distance, and count your blessings. It was time you learnt to rejoice the future’s possibilities, instead of being bogged down by your past.

“Thank you for being around for me, Chan.” You smiled, the new resolve rushing in your veins giving you a rare sense of peace. “I know it hasn’t been the smoothest time with me, but I’m so grateful you chose to stay.”

“What are you talking about, Seashell? I’ll always choose to be with you. For as long as that choice is in my hands, I’ll always choose you.”

And I'm not scared to say those words With you I'm safe, we're fallin' like the stars, fallin' in love

City of Stars, are you shining just for me?

“That was it for this gorgeous evening, everybody,” Chan’s grin is evident in his voice, you know it too well- you’ve heard it often enough for it to be etched into your mind. A soft smile fluttered across your face, your turquoise aura waving happy waves around your fingers. The buttery yellow of the sun had softened into soft pinks and oranges of a sunset, the day beginning to darken into night.

“Seashell, hope you enjoyed today… and now, it’s time for me to take your leave- Wishing you all an eventful weekend, this has been RJ Chris on Solis FM, we will meet again next Friday!” The usual outro song played, a familiar light melody that Chan and Jisung had slaved over for nights on end- only to be interrupted by the screen lighting up with a call- Speak of the devil.“Hello, boyfriend.” You grinned cheekily when you picked up the call, greeted by an amused scoff. “There are a million other endearments in the word, Seashell, and you still choose the most boring ones.”

“What can I say, you clearly have the interesting nickname part down well enough for the both of us.” Chan let out a laugh at your response- the same familiar laugh that had butterflies erupt in your stomach. Even after almost a year of being with him, you were still blindingly smitten by the handsome sweetheart you could call your own.

“We’re on for Luna’s tonight, yes?” Your heart and your aura both fluttered identically at the question. Memories of your first date with him, the hesitance, surprise and novelty of it all - the two of you had come a long way since then. Chan had booked you for dinner, followed by the birthday party at your apartment that Jennie was setting up for you. “Definitely.”

“I’ll pick you up in 20. See you soon, birthday girl.”

You watched the sun set lower into the horizon, the warm colours giving way for blues and purples. A content sigh escaped your lips, feeling the lightness of your shoulders and the lightness inside you. Your aura flowed like the wind around you, the turbulence that you’d barely been able to deal with calming down as you began to blossom into your own. You’d made a more permanent move to your apartment in Solis soon after Winter Break, much to your parents’ chagrin. But you’d stood your ground and here you were, feeling freer than you had your entire life. Jennie was only too happy to move in with you, and Chan. Chan had been your anchor throughout the fast-paced change of it all, holding you when you felt your resolve crack and letting you fly free whenever you needed it. You didn’t expect to find love in college, too stuck within yourself to entertain the possibility- but you would be eternally grateful to have found somebody like Chan to prove otherwise.

Solis University provided students power in anonymity, but it also gave them the power of making their own choices. You made your choices along the way- with Jennie, your friends, your job and most importantly, Chan. You’d found joy, pain, laughter and fears but your found family had stuck through it all, unflinching and present. Looking back, you couldn’t help but realize you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

And I found love where it wasn't supposed to be, right in front of me

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crispmarshmallow · 4 years

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If you're still taking fic ideas, I *need* Satine & Anakin BroTP!! How about: while she's on a diplomatic trip to Coruscant, Anakin is surprised to find out something rather un-duchess-like about Satine. Genre is author's choice: humor, angst, action, whatever you want!

Okay, so I started by answering your ask and then it started taking a life of its own. I had to stop myself from making it even longer. I hope you like it. It took a long time to come up with. And so sorry for such a late reply.

Anakin is playing Sabaac with the Duchess of Mandalore. Satine Kryzé.

Or rather Anakin is losing spectacularly at Sabaac against the Duchess of Mandalore.

He doesn’t even know how he ended up doing this. Actually, he does. However, it is the last thing that he thought he would end up doing.

It started with Obi-Wan - on behalf of the Council - interrupting his patrols upon the Resolute around the Outer Rim to inform him that he is to return to Coruscant with the Duchess in tow. Senator Organa and Padmé are hosting an event for the refugees on both sides of the War and the Duchess is to be an esteemed attendee.

Anakin - ever the obedient Jedi Knight - informed Obi-Wan that he would do as told. However, not without getting in a cheeky quip or two of his own. His former Master had ended the transmission with a highly unimpressed glare.

Anakin might have said something along the lines of I’ll make sure your girlfriend makes it to the Coruscant - safe and sound.

After which he left the Resolute under the charge of Yularen and Ahsoka and made for Mandalore on the Twilight. He picked up the Duchess and her Guard. And set course for Coruscant.

He joined her in the lounging area of the ship, and tried to come up with something to say.

Anakin wanted to know the Duchess better. It bothered him that he didn’t.

The Duchess Satine is an important person to Obi-Wan - even if he denies it. And Obi-Wan is beyond important to Anakin.

So he feels that he should know the woman that captured Obi-Wan’s heart. After all, Obi-Wan knows Padmé very well.

He wanted to know what was beneath all the righteousness and pacifism and politics.

However, Anakin has never really been talented when it comes to conversations with women that are not Padmé or women that don’t violently dismantle battle droids for a living.

He cleared his throat. “I’m afraid I’m not much company, your highness.” He couldn’t help adding, “Obi-Wan has always been better at this sort of thing.” He sneaks a glance at Satine. Oh, he didn't know her well enough to know how she would take that.

He was pleasantly surprised to find that she seemed to be fighting a small smile at his comment. “Please, Master Skywalker. You overestimate Obi-Wan’s skills.” She put down the datapad she had been scrolling through. “Had the Jedi Master been here, I do believe we would have devolved into one of our shouting matches..”

Anakin let out a laugh. Yes, that did sound about right. He had witnessed one of those on the Cornet. And to be fair, that had been the highlight of that particular mission - Obi-Wan and Satine trying to act as though they don’t want to do unspeakable things to each other by shouting at each other.

“In his defense, Obi-Wan only does that with you.” He tried and failed to keep out the suggestiveness out of his word.

“I’m sure.” Satine looked amused, and Anakin knew that she knew what he was doing.

He continued. “Obi-Wan does not lose his cool easily.” He gestured to himself. “I would know.”

“I can imagine that you were a menace to raise, Master Skywalker.”

He grinned. He had been.

Satine looked thoughtful for a moment. “However, I do remember Senator Amidala mentioning that you are often her Jedi protector.”

Anakin froze. Yes. He made sure of that.

“What do you do to keep her company?”

Uh. Anakin’s mind froze. He could improvise when he faced death, but otherwise, he was really bad at it. Satine would not want to know what he and Padmé got up to in their free time if she had a clue.

“We..” His eyes fell onto the box of Sabaac cards that were under the lounge table. He and Ahsoka and Obi-Wan often played it to kill time. He doesn’t know how the tradition began, but it was something they did for fun. Fun is in short supply these days. “We play Sabaac.”

Satine looked at him funnily before asking. “Sabaac?”

Anakin nodded. Maybe too eagerly.

Her eyes fell on the box of Sabaac cards, and her eyes lit up with mischievousness.

“I don’t see why we shouldn’t do the same.”

Anakin blanched. The Duchess played Sabaac?

ii.

And that is how he found himself losing to her.

She played and she played well.

Anakin thinks he should take a few notes as he loses yet another round.

Satine does not hide behind a mask of indifference like Obi-Wan - who admittedly Anakin has never won against - she is a lot like Anakin truthfully. Loathe he may admit it - just smarter.

She tries to intimidate her opponents, and it often works. She always looks so confident that it is unnerving. However, she does not let emotion take over. She does not panic like Anakin does from time to time.

“You’re far too good at this game, Duchess. Are you cheating somehow?”

Satine laughs. “And I would have thought Obi-Wan taught you how to play better.”

Anakin shrugs. “Obi-Wan didn’t teach me.”

“Padmé then?”

Force, no. He sighs. “I learned it on Tatooine.”

She looks surprised. “You’re from Tatooine?”

Anakin wishes he hadn’t brought that up. It brings back bad memories. It brings back the rage. He nods, clenching his jaw.

Satine must have noticed because she tries to steer the topic away from his home planet, but he knows that she is curious. A lot of people are curious about his past.

However, Anakin does not want the Duchess to mistake his reluctance to speak of it as weakness so he divulges a little bit more.

“I watched and learned from the pilots that dropped by at the shop I used to work at.”

Work. Satine must have caught on what he meant. Anakin was brought to the Temple as a child, and he must have been a child when he worked. And often children on Tatooine worked because they had no choice but.

She doesn’t look away. She just slightly deflates at the mention. “I learned it from my sister a long time ago. She learned it from who knows where.” Something in her voice sounds wistful as she speaks of her sister.

They continue their game. At first, it is as if a shadow has been cast upon them. Shadows from their pasts. Nonetheless, they slowly come out of it.

Anakin tries desperately to win. He has always won except against Obi-Wan and he wants to keep it that way if he can help it. Defeating Obi-Wan, Anakin is never sure if he’ll get that good.

They know each other inside and out, but Obi-Wan is not rash like Anakin.

He doesn’t hold back his whining as Satine wins and wins.

She lets loose as they go round by round. She laughs. She smirks. She even curses eloquently under her breath whenever Anakin does catch a rare win.

Anakin wonders if this is who Obi-Wan fell for. He thinks he would understand better if it was.

Unsurprisingly, and to Anakin’s chagrin, Satine wins. She gleefully gathers Anakin’s stack of chips. Her eyes twinkled from the win.

“I remain to be undefeated by anyone when it comes to Sabaac.”

Anakin scowls, though it slowly turns into a smirk. “I would like to see you try playing against Obi-Wan.”

“Oh. I have played against Master Kenobi.” Satine smirks right back at him. “Who do you think taught him?”

iii.

Anakin Skywalker is an interesting person.

Satine thinks as she and he make their way to enter the banquet hall. Apparently, the Jedi Knight had been invited too. Something about being the face of the Republican effort.

She had wanted to get to know him better. Obi-Wan has practically raised the boy and she wanted to see what he had grown up to be.

She knows that Skywalker resorts to unsavory measures when dealing with conflict. He has little regard for the lives of those on the enemy side. She had witnessed that on the Cornet. And she still has a lot to say about it.

However, she decides she quite likes him. He is nice company even if he denies so.

He is a decent Sabaac player too. Just no match for Satine.

It has been ages since she has even played the game. She thinks the last time was with Bo - before everything collapsed upon the two.

She had enjoyed herself during those hours upon the Twilight. And lately, Satine has enjoyed very little - with the Republic and CIS trying to coax her into picking a side, and the Death Watch gaining momentum within her system.

She finally let herself breathe a little. She wonders if Anakin has the same effect on Obi-Wan. The Jedi Master sometimes forgot to look after his own well-being. He had made a habit of it long ago. Maybe he had been born with it.

She shakes off these thoughts as they enter the banquet hall that is full of Senators and Generals and anyone of import. She knows better than to let her mind linger on Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Anakin and Satine had made straight for the ball once they landed, having prepared themselves for their appearance upon the Twilight.

“Duchess Satine!” Bail Organa comes rushing to the pair of them, taking Satine’s hand into his and pressing a light kiss on it. She smiles.

“Senator Organa. It is truly a beautiful event that you have organized and for a very noble cause.”

“We do what we can, Duchess.” He says modestly. He turns his attention to Anakin. “Master Skywalker. We are glad that you could make it.”

Anakin nods his head. “As the Duchess said, it is for a noble cause.”

Satine and Bail continue to exchange pleasantries as Anakin stays quiet beside her - his eyes seem to be scanning the crowd. They continue to do so after Bail leaves and Satine and Anakin venture further into the gathering.

However, they do stop when the Senator Amidala joins them.

“Satine. You made it.” She says as she embraces her tightly. Satine does not often show such affection in public, but she has a soft spot for the Senator. She is a good friend.

“Of course, I did.”

Padmé turns to Anakin, and Satine sees the way her eyes soften - how they seem to glean with something Satine knows better than to name.

“General Skywalker. It is always good to see you.”

He bows. His eyes are as soft as Padmé’s. “And to see you, milady.”

Satine has to suppress a snort. Who does Anakin think he is fooling?

They fall into conversation after that. She does not miss how the eyes of the Senator and Jedi keep seeking each other out.

Satine grabs a glass of champagne from a serving droid. “Oh, and Padmé, do tell me when you are free. I would love to test your skills in Sabaac.”

She sees Anakin stiffen beside her. Padmé regards Satine in confusion. “Satine. I must disappoint you, but I do not even know how to play Sabaac.”

Satine has to hide her sly smile behind her glass as her eyes dart towards Skywalker who has an expression of a child caught doing something he should not be doing.

“Is that so?”

Before Anakin can fumble for an explanation, Senator Chuchi drops by and pulls Satine away. Once she is free, she finds Anakin and Padmé standing a few feet away from her, whispering to each other without looking suspicious as much as possible.

Padmé has an expression of amusement and exasperation and worry.

Satine wonders what Padmé expected. Anakin is the last thing from subtle from what she has seen. She had noticed the way Anakin blushed and fumbled for words when she mentioned Padmé on the Twilight. And she saw the way he was grappling for an explanation when his eyes fell on the Sabaac cards under the table.

Satine is not a politician for nothing. She has not survived this long for nothing.

She continues to study them from afar. She wonders if that was what she and Obi-Wan looked like when they were young and in love.

As if her thoughts conjured the very being, her eyes fall onto Kenobi who is speaking to Senator Mothma.

As if sensing her gaze, he whips his head to her direction. His eyes softened at the sight of her. She is sure hers did the same. She raises her glass in acknowledgment and he smiles at her.

She hesitates before she makes up her mind. After seeing Anakin and Padmé look so content with each other by their side, she decides that she can let herself have that for a short moment or two.

She walks towards Obi-Wan. He notices and excuses himself from the Senator of Chandrilla and makes his own way to her.

“Duchess.” He says, bending to press a kiss on her hand, letting his lips linger a second too long.

“Master Kenobi.” She says, her lips settling into a smile.

“I hope Anakin did not trouble you on your trip here.”

She chuckles. “Of course not.” She pauses before adding. “It is a fine young man that you have raised, Obi-Wan.” She isn’t lying either.

Obi-Wan’s eyes gleam with pride. She knows he is trying hard to hide it, but she knows that Obi-Wan is proud of the man that Anakin Skywalker has become.

“I try.” He simply answers.

Her eyes travel back to Anakin and Padmé. Skywalker has seemed to drag Amidala onto the dance floor - holding her a little too close to be deemed innocent.

“I think that Senator Amidala would agree with me.” She doesn’t hide her smile this time. She sneaks a glance at Obi-Wan. He has his eyes on the pair too.

“A little too much of you ask me.” He is trying to restrain his own smile.

She wonders if Obi-Wan sees them in the young pair.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Obi-Wan nervously wipes his palms on his robes before offering her his own hand.

“Can I interest the Duchess with a dance?”

Satine looks at his hand for a few moments.

She and Obi-Wan made their choices years ago. However, who could blame them for letting themselves have these little moments?

She puts her hand in his.

And then Anakin proceeds to adopt Satine into his list of favorite people and so he joins Obi-Wan on his mission to Mandalore. Both of them save Satine and Anakin proceeds to beat the shit out of Maul for going after her and Obi-Wan. Maul lets it slip that Palpatine is a Sith Lord in hops of saving his life. And thus, Anakin and Obi-Wan and Satine and Padmé and Ahsoka and the 501st and 212th proceed to kick Palpatine’s ass out of existence.

#anakin skywalker #Satine Kryzé #star wars #the clone wars #tcw #obi-wan kenobi #Padmé amidala #ahsoka tano #Palpatine #bail Organa #asks #Duchess of mandalore #darth vader #OBITINE #Anidala

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