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strvngeweather · 8 months

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It's All Greek to Me; a one shot.

🕮 PAIRING: collegetutor!jimin x partygirl!reader 🕮 GENRE: College AU, smut 🕮 WORD COUNT: 4.8k 🕮 WARNINGS: Smut, Smut, Smut 🕮 SUMMARY: After failing your college classes, you need a tutor. But if tutor, why so damn hot? 🕮 AUTHOR'S NOTE: This was originally going to be a full-length fanfic, but I decided to make it a short one. I still may expand on it. Let me know what you guys think. Also, my bestie gave me the idea when she said, "Jimin look like he likes ass." LMAO.

Despite your hatred for hangovers, you always ended up with one.

Today was no exception. As the resident party girl at Loren University, there was no way you would ever miss a weekend rager, but as your alarm clock went off for the fifth time that morning, you began cursing at yourself. Maybe going to a party on a Sunday night wasn’t a good idea.

Scheduling a tutoring session at eight in the morning was an even worse idea.

You had many strong suits, but English wasn’t one of them. It was the one subject you had struggled with since you were in high school. Analyzing the words of dead white men from centuries ago was just about as much fun as watching paint dry. Numbers were much more your thing. They were easy and in the words of Cady Heron, ‘Math was the same in every language.’

But you needed to pass. It’s not as if you were here on your parents’ dime like the other kids. You were a scholarship kid and if your grades slipped, so did you. Out the doors and on your ass. So, when you got your last paper back with a big fat ‘D’ written on it, you knew it was time to take action. And that meant getting a tutor.

You just happened to forget that today, on this bright and early morning, with a pounding headache and dry mouth, you were supposed to be meeting him.

Again, you ask, who the fuck schedules a tutoring session at eight in the morning?

With a groan, you grab your phone, hoping to hit the ‘snooze’ button on your alarm one more time before you really had to get up but when your eyes read the time you realize that it’s damn near eight-thirty. How many times have you hit the snooze button? You wonder but realize you’re only wasting more time. Without a second thought, you hop out of bed and into the bathroom, brushing your teeth and running a comb through your curly hair. Your make-up is smudged, and you still have on the shimmering dress from last night but there’s nothing you can do about it now. You grab a hoodie off your desk chair and hightail it to the school’s library.

Inside study room 007, you find a very annoyed, albeit very handsome senior waiting at the table. Laid out in front of him are a stack of books, notebooks, and flash cards. Pens and pencils are lined up neatly in a row. He all but glares at you as enter. Before you can speak, he glances at his watch and then looks back at you. “You’re late.”

“I know,” you say, out of breath. “I got caught up …” you scramble, trying to think of a lie instead of admitting you had spent the night throwing ass to Megan thee Stallion and Cardi B but your folder of excuses in the very back of your brain shows up empty. That might be for the best, you realize as you look over your tutor.

“Partying?” He finishes the sentence for you. His eyes rake over you in judgment. “Maybe that’s why you’re failing English.”

Now wait a damn minute. You scoff, crossing your arms. Your brain is foggy, you desperately need a glass of water – and, not to mention, your skin feels beyond icky. The last thing you can do right now is come up with a proper comeback so the only thing you manage to utter is, “Or maybe English is just hard.”

“You speak it every day, how hard could it be?”

“Whatever,” you say, sitting down across from him. “Can we just … start?”

Jimin checks his watch again. “We might as well. We’ve got thirty minutes left. Let’s make the most of it.”

“I thought I had you for an hour.”

“Yes, and you were late so that hour has turned into thirty minutes. I’ve got things to do, Ms. L/N. I can’t wait around for you all day,” he replies, picking up a black ballpoint pen. “Let’s get started.”

“I’d much prefer it if you called me, Y/N,” you say, leaning back in your chair. “And you’re Jimin, correct?”

He nods curtly. “Alright, Ms. L/N, your form said you have an upcoming paper that focuses on the themes from Nella Larsen’s Passing. What part of the story are you at?”

You roll your eyes but choose not to correct him about your name and instead just answer his question. “I’m not on any part.”

His eyes brighten. “You mean you’ve already finished? Well, great, let’s jump right into discussion –”

“No,” you cut him off. “I’m not on any part because I haven’t started the book.”

Jimin looks at you as if you grew another head. “Your essay for the book is due next week. The book is less than two hundred pages. What do you mean you haven’t started yet?”

You shrug. “I figured since it’s such a short book I could probably finish it and write the essay in the same day.”

“And what day were you planning on doing that since our study session is right now?”

That day was last night but as you both knew you had gotten caught up with … other things. “I guess I figured we’d start the book together and I’d just get the essay done next week.”

Jimin sighs. “Ms. L/N, whatever you manage to vomit onto paper will not bring your grade up in the slightest if you follow your method. I guarantee that.”

You find yourself rolling your eyes – again. “That’s what you’re here for. You’re my tutor so tutor me in the right direction.” Jimin studies you for a moment and then he begins carefully putting his things away into his messenger bag. “Wait. What are you doing?”

“Ms. L/N, you can reach out to me once you’ve read the book but until then, we have nothing to discuss. I only meet with students who are serious about their education,” he places his bag over his shoulder and nods toward you. “Have a good day.”

“Um, hello! You can’t just leave,” you say, getting out of your chair.

“I can and I am,” Jimin replies, and with that, he walks out of the study room. You begin to follow him but decide against it. What good would that do? He was rude and had judged you from the moment you walked in the door. You didn’t need a tutor like that.

You decided you were going to go to the campus café, buy a large coffee, and then go home to take a much-needed shower.

. . . .

“He was a jerk,” you tell your best friend, Winter, taking a long sip of your mango-pineapple smoothie. “He left right in the middle of our session.”

Every Tuesday was the same. A morning class and then a lunch date with your bestie, Winter, at your favorite smoothie place about twenty minutes away from campus.

She shakes her head but not at him. “Y/N, I love you, but you were late. You didn’t read the material, and you had the nerve to have an attitude. I would have walked out on you too.”

Harsh but it was the truth. You weren’t quite ready to admit that you were somewhat at fault too. “Okay, but I’m saying, he didn’t have to be rude about it though.”

“What’d he look like?”

“He would be fine as hell if he wasn’t so rude,” you answer honestly.

She shakes her head, amused. “What did you end up getting on your essay anyway?”

After the last encounter with Jimin, you decided you’d find another tutor, but in the meantime, you were going to stick with your tried and true. You did exactly what you had told Jimin you would do. You read most of the book in one evening and managed to type up a paper in the same night, confident that you had aced it. But when you looked online, checking your grade, you realized Jimin had been right. Regardless, you weren’t going back to him.

You sigh. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” Winter replies. “Because if Jimin is right, then I think you should give him a call.”

“Jimin Parker?”

You and Winter look up to see Jennie Kim hovering above you. Her freshly dyed blonde hair cascaded in waves down her slender face. You may have been the resident party girl, but Jen was the resident party queen.

“Hey Jen,” you say, motioning for her to take a seat. “Yeah, Jimin Parker. You know him?”

She sits between you and Winter. “You mean that gorgeous senior? Ugh, I had him as a tutor last semester.”

“How’d he do?” Winter says, giving you a knowing look.

You lean forward. Jennie was known for many things but having good grades was not one of them. In fact, you wondered how she managed to make it this far without being kicked out. But, if Jimin could manage to get her grades up, then he truly was a miracle worker.

“Amazing,” Jen gushes. “I got an A on my last three papers. I wanted him again this semester but apparently, he’s all booked up.”

You groan as Winter gives you another look. You pull your cell phone out of your pocket and dial Jimin. “Hello?” You reply as he answers. “Hi, yeah, Jimin, it’s Y/N. I was wondering if we could set up a session …”

…

For his sake (and mostly yours) you schedule an afternoon session and this time, you show up prepared. When he arrives, he’s shocked to see you already in the study room.

“Good afternoon,” he says, rounding the table to sit across from you. You get a whiff of his cedarwood cologne. “I see you’re on time.”

“I’m early,” you correct him. “You’re on time.”

“That I am,” he says, taking a seat. You watch him closely as he carefully takes out various pens and pencils, notebooks, and flashcards. He really is handsome, you think, even if he is an ass. “I see we’re studying Oedipus Rex by Sophocles?”

You nod your head. “I read it. I don’t understand it.”

“What exactly don’t you understand?”

“Not a single word in that book. They might as well be speaking Greek.”

He sighs. “Well, it is a Greek book.”

“Clearly,” you reply. “So where do we start?”

“I guess at the beginning.”

. . . .

Things were going smoothly. You found yourself actually understanding the material and surprisingly, enjoying it. But you also found yourself getting lost in Jimin at times. The more time you spent with him, the more you developed a crush. Your mind would wander as your eyes looked over him. You wondered how soft his full lips were. You wondered what his eyes looked like in moments of passion. You wondered how good it would feel to be wrapped up in his strong arms.

Your eyes were on his arms when he called your name. “Huh?”

“I asked did you want to go over the scene between Antigone and Polynices again?”

You shake your head. “No, I think I understand. Antigone wants him to call off the war, but Polynices’ pride won’t let him.”

“Correct,” Jimin replies with a smile.

Fuck, you think. Jimin had a smile that would make anyone melt. “Jimin,” you begin and mentally kick yourself for what you’re about to ask but you’ve started so you might as well finish. You put on your best flirtatious smile. “What do I get if I ace my next paper?”

He seems to know what you’re hinting at. “You get an A and the satisfaction of knowing your hard work paid off.”

Well, if that wasn’t a blaring rejection, you don’t know what is. “Do you have a girlfriend?” You blurt it out before your brain can even process whether the question was appropriate or not.

He blinks, slightly taken aback. “Yes, yes, I do. Why?”

You shrug, trying to be as nonchalant as possible even though you feel as if you’ve just gotten stung by a million honeybees. “No reason. You just seem so into your academics; I didn’t think you had time for that kind of stuff.”

“Well, a human being still needs a social life to thrive,” he replies coolly. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

You nod. “Yes, and his name is Jose Cuervo.”

He laughs. “I’m sure you have a line of men knocking on your door.”

“Nobody I want though,” you say, mostly to yourself.

. . . .

If crushing on him wasn’t enough, now you were dreaming about him. A week of erotic dreams plagued you. They felt so real. You could smell his signature cologne as he pushed in and out of you, your legs on his shoulders and his arms wrapped around your thick thighs. Each dream ended the same though, just as he was about to finish, your alarm would wake you up and you would spend a good five minutes finishing yourself off before getting ready for the day.

Instead of a study room at the library, Jimin asked you to meet him at his apartment for the study session. He mentioned something about time constraints, appointments, and being unable to book a study room but your brain had been stuck on, “Wanna meet me at my apartment? We can have a quick recap sesh before I have to run out?” He could barely finish his question before you agreed to it.

So, sue you for being curious.

It’s not like anything will happen, you thought as you parked, he has a girlfriend. You arrived twenty minutes early. Your excitement had gotten the best of you and you knew how much Jimin liked it when you were on time. When you knocked on the door, a man almost as handsome as Jimin answered.

“You must be Y/N?” he asked, sticking out his hand. “I’m Taehyung.”

You nodded, the thought of becoming a Wattpad heroine and having two incredibly attractive men fight over you danced around in your head. You shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Taehyung.”

As he let you in, he explained he had somewhere to be, but that Jimin was in his room and to head right in. You gave the door a light knock but didn’t receive an answer. The door was slightly ajar, giving you the smallest view of a very neat bedroom. You spotted Jimin at his desk, looking at something on his large computer monitor. It looked familiar. Your curiosity ate at you, forcing your hand to ever-so-gently open the door further. This time you could see what Jimin was looking at clearly.

It was you. It was your Instagram feed. He was scrolling through your pictures, pausing at every photo that was a bit risqué.

“Fuck, Y/N …”

That was your name. Leaving his lips. In a moan. Your heart fluttered with excitement. But wait, was he …

As you tilt your head to get a better view, you can see the tip of his elbow on the armrest, bobbing up and down. And up and down. And up and down.

Oh, he definitely was.

You slap a hand over your mouth and tiptoe back to the living room. A few minutes later, you hear a shower turn on and ten minutes after that, you see Jimin emerge in a navy blue V-neck and a pair of grey sweatpants.

“Hey,” Jimin looks at you with a face full of guilt. You can’t help but smile. “How long have you been waiting?”

“I just got here a few minutes ago,” you lie, looking up from your phone that you were pretending to be engrossed in. “I haven’t been waiting long.”

“Good, good,” he says. “Let’s go to the kitchen. The lighting is better in there.”

. . . .

After three weeks of hard work and several study sessions, you submit your paper with all the confidence of Scott Disick. Winter, the best friend that she is, decided that this was the best time to reward your good behavior with a couple of jello shots at your favorite bar. You gobble up the first two and then decide to sip on a blue Long Island iced tea. That’s when you spot him. Sitting in a corner, next to his roommate and another man with tattoos up and down his arms. Instead of his usual tweed blazer and grey slacks, his outfit looks more modern, more casual. A white graphic tee hugs his toned body, and you can’t help but eye his biceps. His cheeks are slightly red, his eyes are glossy and he’s laughing harder than you’ve ever seen him laugh. He looks delicious but you turn around and decide to order another shot from the bar.

You spot Winter getting her mack on with a fellow classmate, Karina, and it’s then you realize that you’re probably going to be alone for the rest of the night. Just as you begin to grab your wallet to pay your tab, a familiar figure approaches you.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he’s wearing a smile you’ve never seen before, and it makes your insides flutter.

“I could say the same thing,” you reply. “I never thought I’d see Jimin Park in a bar.”

“I don’t spend all my time in the library,” Jimin says.

“Could have fooled me,” you tease, taking a sip of your drink. “What brings you out among people?”

He orders a whiskey sour before turning to you. “I, Y/N L/N, am finally a single man. My girlfriend of two years has decided that she no longer wants me.”

He’s smiling but you can see sadness behind his glossy eyes. “I’m sorry,” you say earnestly. “Her loss.”

“Oh definitely,” he says with a slight slur. “You want to know the real reason she broke up with me?”

You shrug. “Lay it on me.”

He leans in close, so close his body is pressed up against yours. He angles his lips to your ear and whispers, “I was too much for her.”

“Oh …”

“Yeah,” his words spill out in a rush, his eyes darkening as they take you in. They pause at your mini-skirt before crawling up your body slowly. You suddenly feel exposed, as if he just completely undressed you, but it would be a lie to say you didn’t love it. His voice lowers to a sultry whisper, “You don’t seem like that though.”

“Seem like that?”

“Like I’d be too much for you.”

“In what way?” You ask, genuinely curious.

He leans toward you, his lips brushing past your ear, forcing every hair on the back of your neck to stand up. “Sexual. You look like a good girl who knows how to take a pounding.”

A million thoughts ran through your head as Jimin broke out into a sardonic laugh. You were called back to that time you caught him masturbating to your pictures. You began to wonder if the prim and proper Jimin was just a façade to hide the sexual deviant he really was. His eyes look over you in a way they never have, and you swore they were clouded with lust. He licks his full lips, and you want nothing more than to kiss them, but you don’t. Instead, you take a step back and laugh, motioning to his roommate. Jimin was drunk and even though it looked like he wanted to bend you over the bar and give it to you, you knew better than to take advantage of a drunk man.

….

A week later, when you enter the study room, the moment you and Jimin exchange glances, you feel awkward. He looks embarrassed as he gestures for you to sit down.

“We need to talk,” he says. “I want to apologize about the other night at the bar.”

“It’s okay, I barely even gave it a second thought,” you lie. You had thought about that moment ever since it happened.

“No, it was inappropriate, and I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.”

“Jimin, you were drunk, it’s fine. Besides, it was nice to see a different side to you,” you reassured him with a smile.

“That’s not a side that I would like to be representative of who I am,” Jimin admits. “I don’t want to be known as the guy who makes people uncomfortable.”

You laugh. “Believe me, I was the farthest thing from uncomfortable.”

He locks eyes with you for a moment before clearing his throat and motioning toward your phone. “Have you checked your grades yet?”

You gasp, suddenly remembering the paper you had submitted a week earlier. You quickly bring up your most recent webpage, searching for the most recent grade listing. As your eyes glance over your paper and the notes, you realize that Jimin lived up to his reputation. You get up, shoving the phone in his face, squealing.

His eyes brighten, and he gets up as well. “You got an A!”

Without thinking, you throw your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. Jimin, to your surprise, doesn’t push away. Instead, he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around your waist. You take the moment to breathe in his intoxicating scent. The both of you remain intertwined far longer than you both know is appropriate but for some reason, neither one of you makes the move to let go.

Finally, Jimin relents first. He stares you in the face and says quietly, “I knew you could do it.”

You let out a small laugh. “I couldn’t do it without you. Thank you, Jimin”

“As a reward, we can end the session ten minutes early today,” Jimin replies and sits back down.

You find yourself shaking your head. “Can I request a different reward?”

Jimin looks up at you and nods. You look around the small study space. The room you chose was in the back, the library was relatively empty today and the small window the room provided was on the door and could easily be covered up the shade provided. You mentally prepare yourself for what you’re about to say next. Things could go downhill, fast, depending on his reaction. Still, you steady yourself, look Jimin in the eyes and say, “I want a kiss.”

“What?”

“A kiss,” you repeat confidently. “I want you to kiss me as a reward.”

“I can’t kiss you,” he replies back, taking study materials out of his messenger bag. “That would be highly ina –”

“Jimin, if you don’t want to kiss me, just say so but don’t use the tutor-student relationship as a reason.”

He sighs. “I …” You watch as he struggles to find the right words.

“You were right about me,” you say, giving him a flirtatious smirk. “At the bar. I can take a good pounding.”

His face turns a beet-red, but he quickly recovers. He stands, walking to stand in front of you. “Just one kiss?”

“One kiss,” you repeat.

He leans in and places a soft kiss on your lips, lingering for only a few seconds before breaking the kiss. “That good?”

You shake your head. “I hardly think that’s worth all the work I put in.”

He smiles, genuinely amused, and says, “Really?”

You nod. “Maybe if it was longer …”

Jimin sighs. “Y/N, if it’s longer, you know what that will lead to …”

“Then let it lead to that,” you challenge, you push. “I don’t know why you have to act so anal-retentive all the time. Not everything has to be perfect. Just k—”

He cuts you off with a deeper kiss. It’s slow and sensual. His hands wrap around your waist, one of them running down the curve of your ass as he palms it slowly, indulging in the fleshy softness. You can feel his dick hardening on your thigh as he slips a tongue into your mouth.

Jimin is using both hands to palm your ass now, his dick grinding into you and a low, deep, moan leaves his mouth forcing an electric sensation to shoot down your spine and vibrate in your core.

“You sure you want this?” he asks through a searing kiss.

“Yes,” you think you say but you’re not sure. Your head is spinning that this is actually happening.

He responds by lifting your pleated skirt and smacking your ass, the sound echoing throughout the room. Fingertips dance between your ass crack, and he uses a knee to part your legs slightly further. You break the kiss, throwing your head back as you feel Jimin’s fingertips slowly rub your pussy from the back. He slips a finger into your underwear, running it up and down your slit.

“How long have you wanted this?” He asks, nipping at your neck. “You’re already so fucking wet.” You try to answer but all that comes out is a moan as he slips another finger inside. “Shh,” he tells you. “You want the whole library to hear you?”

He gives you a bit of a reprieve when his hands slip away. You watch as he pulls out one of the chairs and sits, beckoning for you to stand in front of him. Your skirt is still at your waist, so he pulls your underwear down before pulling you close. You feel his large hands grope your ass again, peppering kisses up and down your hips. Another smack echoes through the room before he uses a hand to caress clit. You move your hips in response, holding on to the table for balance.

He pauses. “Turn around and bend over.” He doesn’t have to ask you twice. You obey, and not a second later, you feel him placing one of your legs up on the study table. “Arch that back, baby.” Your ass juts out just a little more as you follow his directions. A moment later you feel a cool, wet, sensation going up and down the slit of your core. It’s slow at first, as if he’s taking the time to let the taste of you marinate on his tongue but he quickly picks up his pace. The tip of his tongue flickering over your clit. Meanwhile, you can feel his thumb, massaging your anus.

Jimin was an ass man, and he was making that very clear.

Both hands were gripping your ass now as he guided your pussy over his tongue. You work your hips in tandem, stifling a loud moan as your world begins to go white.

But he wasn’t done with you yet.

He moves his tongue from your pussy up to your anus, and you jerk, having never quite felt something like this before. You can hear an amused laugh leave Jimin’s throat as he begins to massage your ass with his tongue. His fingers working your pussy, begging for another orgasm. You oblige, your wetness dripping all over his fingertips.

“Don’t move,” he demands. You can hear his belt unbuckling, followed by the tips of his dick moving up and down your incredibly wet slit. He slides it in with the patience of a saint, excruciatingly slow, forcing whimpers out of you, begging him to go faster. “You sure you want it faster?”

“Please,” you moan.

“Please, what?”

“Please, Jimin,” you manage to utter out.

He gives you your wish and begins to pound you like he said he would. His pace quickens and you can feel every inch of him inside of you. Your pussy wraps around him which causes him to smack your ass, and a deep moan leaves his lips.

You realize he can’t have all the fun though and you begin to throw it back on him, your ass bouncing against him, and he lets you. You can hear your wetness as you begin to drain his dick. You can hear his low grunts of satisfaction as you pick up your pace and when you look back, you can see his dark eyes looking at you in a way you never wanted to stop. “Good fucking girl,” he whispers in a low voice.

You make eye contact which forces him to grip your hips and pound into you harder, faster (stronger). “One more time baby,” he says to you, maintaining eye contact. “Cum on this dick.” You had already been close, and his words only sent you over the edge further than you had ever gone. You close your eyes, your body shaking in pleasure as you have your third orgasm on his dick.

He follows suit, his cum shooting deep inside of you. You feel his body on top of yours as you both try to catch your breath.

“Was that worth all your hard work?’ He asks.

“I think I’ll have to get A’s for the rest of the year,” you reply.

“The rest of your life.”

#bts fic #bts x reader #bts x black reader #jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin x y/n #smut #bts smut #bts x reader fic #jimin x black reader

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alicedusstuff · 1 month

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Lost au 2(english)

It was a busy day on the mountain of flowers and fruits. For some reason, all the monkeys were very noisy today; and that must have been what forced the king to leave his thoughts to look at the door from the comfort of Macaque's bed.

-I think it wouldn't have been your day. The monkeys are noisy today.

Wukong didn't dare get under the covers. He didn't want to mess up his old friend's room. So he just lay there, knowing full well that he wouldn't get to sleep. The place was still as he had found it when he arrived on the mountain. Sheets of paper were even left on the floor, gathering dust. A few drawings of Wukong's image could be seen in one of the half-closed drawers of Macaque's desk. Some powders were resting nicely on the shadow monkey's dresser, the cupboard where he hid his disguises was closed; and one of his chests was always overflowing with scrolls, fabrics, and treasures of all kinds. The room was far too tidy despite the few things that exceeded Macaque's relentless tidying. Wukong liked to think that this little grain of disorder was a habit that the six-eared macaque had taken from him over time. The only thing Wukong had touched was the scents that Macaque used to perfume his room. A smell of old paper and sweet fruits that Wukong immersed himself in the few times he came here.

Wukong could not stay thinking for long, because the cries of his subjects were breaking his ears. It had become unbearable. What could put them in such a state? Wukong tried his best to understand what was being said; but what was being said was said and mixed up so much that Wukong could not put his finger on any proper word.

-It seems that I must leave you bud. My kingdom calls me.

No sooner said than done, Wukong jumped out of bed and left the room. Immediately, in the hallway, a crowd of monkeys turned to their king as he closed the door behind him. A second passed where everyone seemed to be sure that it was indeed their king who was coming out of the room of the deceased who was almost considered the second king of the mountain. Then, the crowd of monkeys jumped on him. Small and big, monkey demons and normal monkeys. All that was in the hallway crushed him in relief, burying their king under a mountain of monkeys.

-Hey guys. You're going to kill me there. The king mocked.

No one found it funny. Wukong did his best to free himself before asking for more explanations. Why the hell was there so much commotion outside and inside? The answer was given to him by a foreign monkey that Macaque had brought back to the mountain. Wukong remembers him because Macaque had introduced him himself, when Wukong had returned after being chased away by the monk.

“He looks a bit like you,” Macaque had laughed at the time. “He’s very noisy.”

Wukong remembers that he didn’t like the attention Macaque was giving to this newcomer, and the two friends had argued for a reason that Wukong doesn’t even remember anymore.

“My king, you have been missing for three days and three nights, and you hadn’t warned anyone of any departure. Everyone was worried about your absence. We thought the worst.”

Wukong’s eyes widened. The dark circles under his eyes seemed to pull on his skin. And his eye sockets were a little too dry. The king closed his eyes and rubbed them to moisten them a little, under the worried gaze of his subjects in the front line in front of him.

“I’m fine.” The king announced, blinking several times at the discomfort of his eyes being dry.

He hadn’t realized they were dry until he opened his eyes wide. How long had he not closed them? How long had he been staring at the ceiling of his friend’s room?

“I’m fine.” The king repeated, continuing to blink. “But, three days? Really?”

The monkeys nodded. Outside, the noise had stopped. Someone must have warned them that their king had been found. Wukong blinked several more times. Tears fell before finally leaving Wukong with a blurry vision.

“Woah…uh…” One last blink to clear the water from his eyes, and his vision was clear again. Sorry to worry you guys. I just took a really big nap.”

That was a lie. Wukong had been unable to sleep for ages, unless one of the little monkeys came to rest on him. A familiar shiver ran through Wukong. He ignored it and hurried to reassure his people. He grabbed a few little ones in one hand, took the hands of a few little monkey demons in the other, and left the rest of his subjects, following him.

Outside, the rest of his people had gathered around the temple. They formed a huge wall of monkeys that surrounded the temple entrance. Wukong realized then, how worried his people were. There hadn’t been such assemblies in a long time. He sighed and muttered under his breath.

-I really have the gift of worrying everyone, huh bud?

It was obvious that Macaque wouldn’t answer him. But he liked to think that the shadow monkey would have been able to hear him no matter where he was. As it had always been the case when Macaque was in this world.

-Ah…seems like I scared everyone huh?

Like a single monkey, the wall of primates nodded several times. Then, a loud murmur began to travel through the crowd. Wukong followed the worried sound from where it started, and followed it spread through the crowd in waves. Everyone wanted to give their opinion. Wukong said nothing. He let a moment pass before asking for silence, and asking for someone to take charge of representing the troupe. A short whisper was heard before the troupe gave a name.

"Shi Luo"

The same monkey that Wukong had seen earlier; the one that Macaque had brought back to the mountain, stepped aside from the crowd. Now that Wukong saw him, he could see how young the monkey was. He would certainly reach maturity in a few years, but he was still quite young. Probably a little younger than he and Macaque had been the first time they had crossed paths. His fur was as light as the clouds, which turned black at the tail. His skin was a little grayer than Macaque's, and a blue mask covered his eyes. The youngster moved closer to Wukong before bowing in the same way Macaque did when the latter began acting as his vassal in front of strangers from the mountain. The gesture pinched Wukong’s heart. He tightened his grip on his clothes.

“Who are you?” Wukong asked.

The blue-marked ape looked up at Wukong, blinking a few times before rushing to answer as politely as possible.

“Old Moon gave me the name Shi Luo. I am Old Moon’s first protégé, your highness. I will be the one to offer you the voice of your people today.”

Wukong didn’t know that Macaque had protégés. He knew that he and the shadow ape often found monkeys in trouble, and brought them back to the mountain. It was something Wukong was sure Macaque had continued to do after he left; but calling them protégés was overkill. It left a bad taste in Wukong’s mouth. Macaque’s voice scolded him in his head. As if Macaque had guessed that Wukong’s next actions were going to be stupid. Wukong decided to do nothing. He nodded slowly, he would ask about Shi Luo later.

-Speak.

He finally ordered. Shi Luo did not need to be asked twice.

-We are worried about you, your highness. Positive whistles rose from the crowd, encouraging the monkey representatives to speak. You have spent years mourning a person who no longer exists. The mountain needs their king. We mourn with you the loss of old Moon, but you cannot let yourselves waste away like this. Once again, we need you. The mountain has not known any real good days since you stopped smiling. Some of the fruits that old Moon loved no longer bear fruit, as if you had ordered it. Humans and demons venture a little closer to the mountain with each passing day, and we fear that, if grief does not kill you, it will be the next attack against the mountain that will take your immortalities.

Wukong let out a mocking laugh at the young monkey's last sentence. If he could die so quickly, he would have been gone a long time ago. His immortality condemned him to live without Macaque.

-Don't worry. I won't die so quickly. And I'll take care of you.

Shi Luo looked up at the crowd that had started to murmur in disorder again. Wukong managed to remember a few words. But obviously, Shi Luo was better at assimilating what intrigued everyone in the troop than him. He certainly managed to untangle everyone's worries because he had the same concerns. That's how he untangled the gibberish of words so firmly scribbled so well.

-We believe you my king. But we care about you. We would like you to be able to live again despite the departure of the old Moon.

The young man seemed to want to say something. He hesitated for a second, glanced at the troop, asking if he could talk about the delicate subject that everyone seemed to have thought about, before opening the floor again.

-We think you should perhaps look for a new companion.

Wukong’s fur bristled in anger. He ignored the fact that the younger one was implying that his friendship with Macaque was more than that. His claws dug into his palms in an attempt to not kill the younger one right away. The little ones on him, who were on top of him, went down as the tension rose. Wukong’s throat tightened, he did his best to hold back the ball of rage deep in his esophagus. Ignoring the danger, Shi Luo continued.

“Old Moon is, and will remain irreplaceable. But… we think that maybe, if you could find someone to fill the void she… that he left; you would be able to move on. It is not good to dwell on the same problem indefinitely. No one can conquer death, once they have crossed it.”

“I have conquered death.” Wukong snarled. I went to the underworld and removed my name from death itself. Nothing is impossible for me. I am The Great Ape King equal to Heaven. And I say it today and now. Nothing and no one will replace Macaque.

-That's not what I meant… We think…

-Then think no more.

Wukong turned directly to his troop, fangs bared.

-So that's it? You want me to find a replacement for Macaque?

A hubbub was heard. Shi Luo spoke again so he could transcribe what the crowd was thinking and that Wukong had already understood.

-We don't want any replacements for Old Moon. We only want you to be happy, Grandpa Sun. Shi Luo hesitated before saying what he personally thought. Old Moon was a logical person. She would agree with this decision.

-Enough!

Wukong's cry echoed throughout the mountain. Everyone fell silent.

-I never want to hear you even mention that stupid idea again. That’s an order. If any of you ever do, I’ll skin you alive, myself.

With his words, Wukong went deeper into the forest. The monkeys didn’t hold him back. They waited for their king to leave before whispering.

-Our king has lost his mind.

They could hear.

-The loss of Grandmother Moon broke him.

Whispered between the walls.

-Our king can never be the same again.

The whispers echoed again and again, reflecting the panic of the people. Everyone loved Macaque. But even they knew that death was final, and there was nothing they could do about it except move on. There was no question of forgetting the past. But neither was one to be slowed down by it. Those who had survived the burning of the mountain of flowers and fruits certainly understood the Monkey King best. But even they knew that the king had to act like one. Macaque would not return. Just like the dead of that day. The king had been mourning Macaque for months, years, a few centuries. He could not do it forever. He had to pull himself together. But Wukong was still the same stubborn child who had jumped into the waterfall. And he did not want to face reality.

Chapitre 1 _ Chapitre 2 _ Chapitre 3

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aireia · 2 months

Text

And now I'm burning brighter than your dreams. — He grieves for you.

Extra notes: Read part 1 here! The fic makes just about 0 sense without it unfortunately.

tw/cw: minor spoilers for chapter 261. no pronouns used for reader but uses she/her in first part. death. angst with little fluff. hurt with a little comfort. minor implications of suicidal thoughts. dreaming. mentions of blood. minor violence. blades. death. injuries. author's first language still isn't english. no beta we die like everyone. wc: 6.8K

note: This fic makes 0 sense to me. It sucks ass, but there's 2 days till my birthday so I decided to become a genshin character and send you guys a gift (angst) instead of someone sending me gifts instead. I also have no idea how to tag this. —masterlist

y/n l/n’s death has been confirmed by second grade sorcerer Megumi Fushiguro.

It’s been a few weeks since your death. Has it really been that long?

It's spring. The seasons have just shifted, and it’s still cold early in the morning. Megumi tries his best to get out of bed every morning, but the chilly breeze in the morning doesn’t help at all. It’s been like that for the past few weeks. He’d feel the cold air in the morning, and his mind would flash back to the time where he was holding you in his arms.

He remembers everything. It was especially cold on that winter night, which meant bodies got cold way faster after dying. He remembers wanting to get your corpse back to jujutsu high as quickly as possible, but that meant he would’ve parted from you faster than he would have ever wanted. In fact, if there were a choice, he doesn’t think he could ever let go of you.

Megumi remembers telling himself to hold you for just a while longer after you began to get cold, to give you the warmth you deserved. You’re a child too, just like he is, and from his knowledge, most, if not all children hated the cold.

He doesn’t remember being a selfish person. He’s only been like that once, for all he can recollect. Although he knows how he was when he cradled your body. His lips were trembling, his arms desperately trying to keep you close. He didn’t shed many tears, no, but he remembers his throat threatening to spill words such as “don’t go” or “don’t leave me”, yet he choked on all of them.

Megumi was certain it wouldn’t have cursed you, considering you were killed by a cursed tool, but for the short period of time you were hanging onto the thread of consciousness you had left, he was sure he would’ve cursed not you, but himself to death with his words had you heard him.

He hasn’t been doing much either. Every single day has been a constant loop for him where he struggles to get out of bed, does a bit of training, eats a bit, and heads back to sleep earlier than he usually would. His mind keeps yelling at himself that he’s being pathetic, and that you were the same as the people who come and go in a jujutsu sorcerer’s life. Despite that, he doesn’t quite understand why every part of him refuses.

Megumi doesn’t dream about you often. In fact, he hasn’t dreamt of you for over a month now. It's for the better, he thinks, and he hopes it stays that way. Though, there's a part of him that wishes he could see you every time he closes his eyes, then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. No, actually, screw that. Your name has rotted in everyone’s mouths. It tastes like vomit and dust on their tongues.

“They didn’t even give you a proper burial,” Megumi thought to himself before his eyelids finally closed. He doesn’t know what they did to you after he turned your corpse in. He doesn’t want to think about any of that either.

Thinking too much was going to be the reason he died, he swore of it.

Megumi can hear the sound of soft grass swaying. Wasn’t he in his room just a few moments ago? For once, he can breathe the air normally without feeling like he doesn’t deserve to, and the sunlight is kissing his eyelids so beautifully, so much more gently compared to the morning breeze that pricks his skin.

He opens his eyes, and Megumi finds himself in a field of blooming flowers. He softly reaches out to touch the petals before standing up. He walks around the place, the sound of the grass rustling as he walks around now the only thing in his ears.

Megumi stops and takes a large breath of fresh air. If he could, he’d live here forever, he thinks.

Then he spots a butterfly fluttering around him. It’s pretty, a shade of deep purple and black, and he can’t help but follow it as it flies away from him. Suddenly, he feels like he’s three again, and although he doesn’t remember most of his childhood, he vaguely remembered that he would play like this with his mother.

He loses the butterfly a little while later, and he’s greeted by falling sakura blossoms. He reaches out to touch the pastel pink flower, only for it to dissolve as soon as it comes in contact with his hand.

Megumi walks up to the tree, looking up at the flowers to see the sunlight that bled through the gaps. Then, he spots someone else. Someone who’s also wandering around, lost, like a child without direction.

His eyes shot open. Megumi touched his face. It was covered in beads of sweat, and his hands lightly trembled, he swears he saw you in the distance. You weren’t facing him. He walked around the field, aimlessly wandering around while admiring the violet butterflies that danced around the flowers, just as he did.

He walked up to you, and there you are. That’s when he woke up.

“2am..” Megumi sighed once he looked at the clock on his nightstand. You’re in his dreams. Damnit. He’s not saying you weren’t before you died, but then, everything was simple. He dreamt of your futures together, not what this was.

He wasn't able to fall back asleep after that, tossing and turning on his head, only thinking of the image of you in the field of flowers. You looked so beautiful, and he wondered for a moment if it could be reality. It’s selfish, but he really wants it to be.

“Woah Fushiguro! You look more tired than usual today. You sure you don’t wanna sit this one out?” Yuji asked the next morning, clearly concerned. Of course he was. Anyone would be if they saw the dark circles under his eyes.

“I’m fine. Let’s go,” he replied, stretching in hopes of getting rid of the tiredness he felt. Each step he took after that felt heavier than the last, and Megumi felt like crumbling to the ground and falling asleep, but the world continues to spin no matter how he feels, so he decides to continue taking missions and working himself to the bone.

At first, it’s fine. He easily distracts himself from the thoughts of you, but with each second that passes, he finds it harder and harder to do so. He’d thought that he would be able to forget you, but it seems to haunt him more and more now.

He doesn’t get it. He remembers when Yuji died for a few weeks after he met him, and he easily got rid of the heavy feeling in his stomach, but now you’re gone forever, and if he’s honest, he never knew much of you, or had that much time with you, and it was a single dream, so why can’t he return back to his normal self?

Despite all the thoughts that plagued him, the day passed by quickly… He thinks.

It felt like a long time when they were battling, but everything before and after that is a blur of memories he couldn’t bother to recall. Maybe it’s the injuries the curse inflicted on him that’s messing with his mind. Or it’s just like any other day, bleeding and merging into each other.

“Another dream…” Megumi thought to himself when he opened his eyes to see the dark sky. He’s lying on something hard. The floor, probably. He stretched his arms and sat up, only to get startled by you, who’s holding up a lantern in front of him. He stares at you for a while, trying to process finally seeing you, and you cupped his cheek with your free hand.

“It really is you. You disappeared just as I was about to call out for you last time,” you said, smiling. You set the lantern down and hugged him tightly, and Megumi couldn’t help but feel a little odd at the warmth of you. He’ll remember this feeling, he tells himself, because at least, he wants this nice, warm feeling to replace the final time he touched you before this, when your skin was cold to the touch.

“Where are we?” Megumi asked as you helped him up after you parted, and you picked the lantern back up. You looked in the sky, where the clouds swirled and drifted. “I don’t know,” you answered with a cheeky smile. You’re just the same as ever.

You grabbed one of his hands and began running towards the nearest door. “I guess we should explore, right?” you laughed, entering the manor, both your footsteps now echoing through the empty halls.

The walls were mostly lined with paintings of people you both recognised. Gojo and Shoko, along with a painting of a male with long, dark hair. The both of you slowed down to admire the art, and as you walked along the halls, you realised that the mysterious person’s paintings had been torn, namely the large gash that ran along his forehead.

As you kept going to what seemed to be an endless gallery, Gojo’s paintings also seemed to be growing weirder and weirder. His were stained with crimson, and eventually, his paintings too shared the same destruction as the ones beside him.

Shoko wasn’t in the frame of her paintings anymore.

Megumi was about to push the door to the next room open when you suddenly asked, “How’s everything been?” and his hand froze.

“It’s not been the best,” he answered, not wanting to go too much into detail. You didn’t want to push him, but if only you did, because right now, you miss him too.

The door opened to a garden, casted over by the shadows of the plants and trees. There’s a table in the middle of it, with tea and coffee and snacks. It seemed like too much of a set up for a date. Megumi wonders because it’s his dreams, maybe this is what he wanted when you were alive? To take you out to a coffee shop, one where there were barely any people so you could focus on each other.

Without thinking, he pulled you over to the table and pulled the chair out for you, before walking over to one of the bushes and plucking out a rose for you. He goes back to you and slips it into your hair, brushing some of it out of your face to admire your pretty eyes. You’re the same as ever, and he thinks it’s the best thing that he’s felt in the past few weeks.

Megumi pours a drink for you before sitting down to sip on his coffee, shyly biting into the cookie that you offered him with that pretty smile on your face.

He doesn’t know how much time has passed in this dreamland before the both of you finally get up and start walking around again. This time, you’re looking at the many flowers grown in the garden, and by the time you reach another door, you’ve woven a flower crown and placed it on Megumi’s head.

The both of you stared at the wooden door in the middle of the garden. Considering its location, it was safe to assume that this was the pathway back to the real world. You felt his lips brush against your forehead before he opened the door, and then he was gone.

Megumi awakens this time from the sound of knocking on his door. He looks at the clock on his bedside. It’s already 9AM in the morning. He lazily throws himself out of bed, before rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, then opens the door.

“Wow. Look at this guy.”

Nobara pointed at his bed head. Her and Yuji were both dressed in casual clothing, ready for the day as compared to him, who still looked half asleep in his dark, long sleeved shirt. Megumi listened to the duo talk for a while before they focused their attention on him.

“Fushiguro! Did you not listen to anything we said on the way back from our mission last night?” Nobara asked.

“I was asleep.”

“Then go get ready or something!” she half yelled, and pushed Megumi back into the room.

Once Megumi stepped back out, he was immediately dragged off to Shinjuku, where they continued to pull him around while shopping for sweets and clothes and just about anything. Just for those few hours, his mind was lifted from the thoughts of you, and he felt a little at peace, even though you were still in the back of his mind.

He felt a little guilty. Even though his expressions don’t show it, he feels so, so happy for the first time in weeks with his friends, but you aren’t here to feel it with him, and he can’t help but feel like he can’t feel what he does, because he wants you to be beside him too.

He looks at the sight in front of him, drinking in how Nobara and Yuji looked trying to win a plushie from the claw machine, his own breathing the only sound in his ears as the chatter of passer-bys drown out every other sound. The two are raging over a rigged machine, the sensitivity of the claw set just a little too high for it to be able to tightly grip the plushies.

And then, he thinks of you.

Through his eyes, he can picture you laughing along with them. You would’ve loved this. You would’ve loved every part of the life they lived.

After they successfully managed to bag two plushies, they continued their journey, running around Shinjuku before they ended up at a mall, where they took Megumi to a photobooth.

Yea. You would’ve loved this.

That night, Megumi pulled out the drawer of his nightstand where he kept your photo and compared it with the new photo in his hand. He noticed that Yuji had a few new scars on his face, Nobara looked a little bit more mature, and he… Still had his eyebags. And the most noticeable difference, you weren’t in the picture anymore.

He places both of them into the drawer and shuts it. He wants to take another picture with you again. Just the two of you, together.

“What’s it like being dead?” Megumi blurted out. He was dreaming again. You take your eyes off the cloud like fish that turn into mist at every touch. A whale swam by just then, turning into smoke and mist the moment Megumi reached out to touch it.

You stared at him, mind wandering. You fixed your gaze back on the creatures around you as you walked through the aquarium, and finally responded. “I’m just… There? I guess.”

“That isn’t an answer,” he said, slightly side-eyeing you, and you laughed. “I can’t say. I haven’t been dead for long, have I?” but that’s only to you. To Megumi, it’s been a lifetime without you, and hearing you say it again reminded him of just how much he’s grown to lean on your shoulder when he felt weak.

“Or maybe it’s because I’m waiting for someone that I’m putting off finally laying my soul to rest,” you said, pressing your finger against the glass of the aquarium tanks and watching as curious sea creatures gathered.

“Who?” Megumi asked, only for you to turn around and boop his nose with your finger.

“You, obviously.”

“You want me to die early?” He questioned again. What? Where’d he get that type of idea?

“Silly boy,” you laughed, grabbing his arm before running towards the exit of the aquarium, the stray animals around you disappearing as you ran through them, leaving large trails of mist behind you, as if you were deconstructing Megumi’s dreams for him, leading him back where he belonged.

“I’d wait an eternity for you, so don’t come here too early.”

When he woke up again, the rain outside was as heavy as ever. With the way it’s pouring down, it looks like there’s clouds of mist everywhere. That would explain why he dreamt of… Whatever that was. He pressed his finger against the panel of the window, wondering if there was even the slightest chance for him to create shikigami that resembled the ones in his imaginations.

Actually, nevermind. That sounded stupid.

Megumi got ready for his day. For once, he felt just a little bit more energised. Maybe it was because he felt reassured. You’re waiting for him, and he won’t be alone. Even if he can’t see you now, but still! He knows now that if he does somehow die, which you wouldn’t be happy about, at least he’d be able to have all the time in the world with you.

The grief doesn’t feel as heavy anymore, now replaced by his hopes that you’d keep visiting him in his dreams, entering his mind and pulling him out of his own, it felt almost as if it were him who was in your dreams, and not the other way around.

It’s been a few months now, and he’s dreamt of you so, so many times. Each time he left those dreams meant that he made new memories with you– something you weren’t able to do in the real world. Megumi can’t help but find himself wanting to be with you more. He wants to make up for the lost time, for every second he wasn’t able to be by your side. If anyone knew, they’d call him obsessive. Hell, they’d say anything, but to him, this felt like hope he seemed to have lost.

He sat in his bed, reading one of his novels. Actually, reading… Wouldn’t be the right term here. He found himself mindlessly staring at the words and flipping through pages he hadn't read as he thought and dwelled on memories from when you were still alive.

Megumi looked out the window of the classroom. It’s autumn again. The trees have begun to turn a shade of orange, the wind has gotten just a little colder, and everything seemed a little bit duller.

Today, grey clouds covered the skies, and he looked at the front of the class. It seemed just like the day you first stepped foot into campus, where one day they’d all get permissions and have sleepovers and drink hot chocolate, and he can’t help but feel a little saddened.

Now all the memories he has of you are from the figments of his and your imaginations. Is it so wrong for him to wish to see the stars with you again? Is it so wrong for him to wish for you to take his first kiss in the winter on the roof again?

Megumi wants nothing more right now than to relive each of those memories, and with each passing second, he finds himself wanting to do those things in his dreams, even though he can’t control any of them.

“It’s almost winter? Brings back memories,” you breathed out, walking ahead of him. “I wanna play monopoly with you guys again. I was so close to winning last time.”

“Why couldn’t we have ended up like that?” Megumi asked you one day.

He was at a beach with you this time. When he opened his eyes, you were dancing in the cool water, freer than any bird with your arms spread wide to welcome the breeze and sunlight that kissed your skin.

He was mesmerised by the way you moved, and before he knew it, you pulled him by his arms to dance with you, the warmth of your hands surrounding his skin. And then, you sat by the ocean with your feet in the water, your head resting on Megumi’s shoulder.

“It would’ve been selfish,” you replied to his question, closing your eyes to listen to the sound of the waves.

“It’s okay to be,” he retorted. “We could’ve been so much more.”

Silence took over, and you think for a moment. He’s right. You could've been everything.

“There wouldn’t have been a point to it with what I was.” There was bitterness in your voice. “And besides, I don’t have the right to feel that way.”

“I should’ve been more selfish for you.”

You looked at the water splashing over your legs and stood up, slowly making your way to the deeper parts of the water. Maybe it's your fault for showing up so much, but you miss him just as much as he does, and you're unsure of how to get him to stop, or for you to let go, too.

“It’s time for me to go. See you?”

The uncertainty in your voice made him feel worried. He got up and tried to reach out towards you, wanting to do anything to keep you from leaving again, but the waves had consumed you before he could, and suddenly, his eyes were open, and he’s awake.

He doesn’t like how quickly the dream went by.

He doesn’t dream of you again after that. You’re always on his mind, just like usual, but he can’t seem to speak to you or dream of you. Each day spent was a day spent in disappointment, and he doesn’t want to stop trying.

Megumi could walk down the streets and see various flowers and plants, or a pretty bird you’d like, and he’d want to talk to you about it.

Despite how strong his desires are, he can’t find you anywhere. He swears he’s about to start writing letters to heaven and somehow hoping they get to you. He’s dreamt of you so much now he’s starting to think you’re alive again, and more often than not, he finds himself picking his phone up and clicking on your contact in hopes of being able to text you about his day, and for you to respond to him, but that won’t happen, and he knows it.

And then all of it repeats. He’s going to bed earlier and earlier, hoping that by some miracle that he was going to see you in the fog of illusions his brain made.

But you never showed up, and he was getting tired of it. He found it harder to concentrate on missions, because there were just so many things he wanted to tell you, and he kept telling himself to remember because he’ll see you again, and then he’ll get to tell you of everything he’s seen, because you were never able to see them.

He’s so full of you, you, and you, and all the heart he has for you, so please, he begs, for once he's found something he can look forward to, why won’t you just comfort him again?

“Megumi…”

His eyes opened abruptly to scan his surroundings. Another few months have passed, and a year has probably passed since you first started appearing in his dreams, he’s finally heard your voice again. There’s nothing around him. It’s pure darkness, and he can hear your voice echoing somewhere.

Megumi started following the sound of you, and eventually, the ground crunched with each step he took. He looked down. He’s stepping on white snow, then he looks up again, and there’s a trail of blood.

And he hears your voice in that direction.

He gulps and freezes. His legs are physically impaled into the ground, as if something were holding him down, and he can’t find it in himself to move. And then he thinks, and thinks, and you’re in danger, and suddenly, he takes one step, and then he’s running towards you.

The trees seem to become blurry as he increases his speed, and he doesn’t know how long he’s been running. One moment it’s dark, and then there was light as he stepped into the snow, and now, the sun has set, and he’s running in hopes of reaching you before he fails you again.

He’s panting heavily, his legs are about to give out from the running, and he finally sees you. The blood on the ground he saw earlier had gotten thicker with every step he ran, and he sees you laying in the cold snow again, with your arm extended towards the skies. There’s a star you’re hoping to grasp, to reach and it’s shining so brightly, so radiant and pretty for everyone in the world to see as you finally realised– It’s always been out of your reach.

Megumi ran towards you and pulled you into his arms. He wondered to himself just as he did it, what is he doing? Why does he have to experience this again? It’s completely the same, and he can feel how cold your body is.

He feels like he’s on autopilot, vision shaky and blurry as he holds your freezing hand up to his cheek, and he can feel his heart thumping in his chest, his mind running thousands of miles per second, and yet just one word from you snapped him out of all of it.

“I’m sorry.”

For some reason, Megumi dreaded that you’d apologise. He didn’t want an apology. He knows you felt guilty for the pain you’d caused him, but he’s over it. He could never hate you, because why would he? How could he hate you when you gave him company, love, and comfort? How could he hate you when he’s himself?

He doesn’t respond to you. Not this time. Instead, he looks up to see the moon, and just as he thought, there wasn’t any moon again, because why would there be when it was right beside him? And for how much you loved the sun, isn’t it cruel that it never shone upon you?

His eyes shot open again. It feels even worse now. He knows it’s just a dream, but you were dying, and he’s awake, and he wonders if he was still there holding you so you felt warm before everything went dark. He stares at his hands. It’s not stained with blood. Not anymore, for he washed it off over a year ago, so why does it feel so devastating knowing it wasn’t real?

Perhaps it was the feeling that he’s failed you again, and there wasn’t anyone by your side, or maybe he’s thinking from your perspective. Maybe he was never beside you and he’s invisible in his dreams, and you think you don’t deserve the grace of a little mercy, just a little bit of company and kindness when you die.

The tight feeling in his chest from the day he woke up after your passing was back again, and he can’t help but think it’s only gotten worse.

Megumi wipes the sweat off his forehead and gets up. He has a solo mission today. He can’t mess up again. Not when you’re no longer around to have his back.

Once he’s ready, he meets up with Ijichi, who briefs him on his mission while driving. It seemed easy enough. Worst case scenario, he’d run into a grade two curse, which he wouldn’t have that much of a problem defeating.

So why exactly was he being stared down by such a creature now? He can’t help but feel a sense of deja vu. This exact thing has happened before, but at least you were there at the time. Now, he’s alone, trapped in a veil with no way to contact the outside world, and with the way the curse looks, he feels that he’s about to be beheaded.

He snaps out of his thoughts when the curse swings at him, and he barely dodges the attack. He’s convinced he would’ve been turned into minced meat. He can’t do this. He can’t, not alone.

He needs you, but you aren’t there again.

He knows he can’t keep dodging forever. His stamina would run out soon, but every single attack he tried to deliver just wasn’t working. Nothing was. Every hit given was just another dent in his blade. It’s near its breaking point too, he can tell.

Megumi’s eyes close as another impact lands on his weapon, and he doesn’t process it, but another hit, and everything hurts. He’s not sure if he’s broken a bone or not, or if anything inside his body is bleeding, but he’s very, very sure that he’s bleeding out. He’s tired.

He doesn’t want to do this anymore. He can’t bring himself to get up. He can only stare at the curse before he finally blacks out.

“Hello?” he hears a voice sing out, and his eyes flutter open. “You’re awake, finally”

You’re looking down from above him.

“What… Where am I?" Megumi questioned you, looking around the blank space around him.

“The border between life and death. I'm just here to make sure you don't die early, that's what partners are for, right?” you crouched down and flicked his forehead.

“You’re dwelling on me too much. It’s been a year, you know?” you looked straight at him, noticing that he was avoiding your gaze. “...It’s because I've been appearing in your dreams, haven't I? That's what's holding you back.” Megumi finally looked at you at the mentions of his imaginations. Yes, you have been in his dreams. You are his dream, but he doesn’t want you to feel bad because of it.

“I don’t want to let go.”

You sighed at his words and sat down next to him. “Megumi, you have to understand that I’m only a small chapter in your life. I’m not much of a psychologist, but that chapter has ended– Our chapter has ended. You’re still young, Megumi, there’s so much you can experience, so don’t end it all–”

“You were young too,” he blurted out. “You had a lot you could’ve experienced too, but you couldn’t.”

“I wanted to live beautifully too!” you suddenly snapped at him, and everything went silent.

The tension between you two only increased with each passing moment, and you both sat in silence for a while. Truthfully, you were wondering how much time had gone by while Megumi was unconscious. You felt like there was a weight in your heart, a lump in your throat, something that prevented you from speaking.

You finally decided to speak up after some time. You needed a way to get him out of this place one way or another.

“Say, Megumi. What do you see me as?” Once you asked, he didn’t hesitate to respond.

“The moon.”

"Even after so long you're still looking at me as if I were the moon," you chuckled.

"...It's unfair." You whipped your head to face Megumi when you heard the crack in his voice. "What's unfair?" You shakily reached out for him, but stopped when tears began to stream down his face.

“Megumi–”

"Not just the moon," he interrupted through his hiccups. "I wanted to make you my entire universe."

You sharply inhaled, and pulled him towards you. He clung onto you. You noticed how his hands were tightly gripping onto your shirt, and you gulped. “I’m sorry,” you choked out. “I’m sorry,” you said again, running your hand through his hair.

“I never properly apologised to you for hurting you, did I? I’m sorry.”

The next few minutes were filled with apologies, his tears staining your sleeves. You pulled away after he stopped crying, your hand now tightly wrapped around his. “Megumi, listen. You have unfinished business. You need to get up and go, or I'll kill you myself.”

“Don't steal my lines,” he weakly croaked out in between sobs.

Megumi sighed and wiped his tears away, finally standing up. He couldn’t help but notice your hand tightening around his just a little after he helped you stand.

“I’m gonna miss this feeling once you go,” you confessed to him, fingers now running over his calloused knuckles.

“I have a request, Megumi,” you said, smiling at him. “I know I told you to move on, and I won’t appear in your but remember me every once in a while, okay? Somehow, I feel that there isn’t another soul that’ll remember me for anything good I’ve done,” and he bites his lips at your words. It’s true, everyone will forget you.

“Hey, wait,” Megumi says before you pull away from him. “Do you think I’m going to be alone when it’s my turn to die?” he asked.

You wondered for a while, then responded, “You won’t,” you said as you interlaced your fingers together. “You’ll be surrounded by so many people, and they’ll be there to help you live on for so much longer, I’d doubt you ever died,” you continued.

“Even if you are, and you feel alone” you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him goodbye one last time. “I’ll be here to kiss your lonely soul,” you teased, and he smiled before you detached yourself from him and turned around to walk away.

“Don’t take that as an invitation to come here early!”

“Oh! And let’s meet up on that mountain again. Under the tree!” you waved.

Megumi’s eyes opened. He looked around him. There were remnants of curses that weren’t there before he became unconscious.

“He’s awake!” Yuji shouted, and Nobara came over to help him walk to the car they came in with Nitta.

“We got worried about you since you didn’t come back,” the pink haired male said, helping him into the car before the both of them got to (aggressively) bandaging him up. He looks at the clock at the front of the car. It’s late.

Once they got back, Megumi got out and began walking in the direction towards the cliffs. “Hey! We need you to get checked by Shoko! She’s been waiting ever since we started searching for you!”

He groaned, but begrudgingly followed them, and all the way throughout his check-up, he’s only been thinking about everything you’ve said to him. The minute it was over, he darted out the door and ran for the cliffs.

Megumi was panting slightly when he got there. He went right after the mission, with blood still staining his uniform. The moon hung high in the sky, watching as he summoned his demon dogs and began digging the spot under the tree. Megumi began clawing at the soil using his hands at one point, getting dirt stuck in between his nails and fingers. He only stopped when he found a slightly rusted metal box.

The boy didn’t know what to expect inside, taking a deep breath and gulping before his shaky hands lifted the cover of the box.

Megumi saw a few pictures of you and him, some of the accessories you wore, a book, and a piece of letter that had been neatly folded.

He sat down under the tree and unfolded the letter, and began reading.

My blessing,

Truthfully, I don’t really remember my first day at the school anymore, because when I stepped foot into campus, my goal was to get information from all of you, acting like a shadow that didn’t exist. I know that I felt alone before that, but before I knew it, I had been shone upon by stars that burnt brighter than even the sun, but yet, you seemed to be the darkest shadow among all the students.

I planned to die from the first day, but I only made it worse by getting closer to all of you. Had I not done so, you wouldn’t be feeling any of the grief you do.

I’ve only been in your life for a few months, Megumi. I want to think I’ve made a change in your life., because I’m looking back on it right now, and you’ve made such a big impact in my life. All of you.

Come to think of it, we never got to see spring together. Next time we see each other, let’s meet in spring, so we can have picnics at night while wishing upon the stars, just like children do.

And I’ll make sure I’ll be the one to greet you first, because you were the one who waved to me first in this life.

Let’s meet again in a more forgiving world.

He held the letter in his hands after he read it, trying to figure out what he felt about it. His eyes are blank, and he’s cried so much for you that he doesn’t know if he has the energy for it anymore.

A heavy feeling settles on his heart as he sets the letter down and picks the book up. It was a book he’s wanted for a while, something he mentioned to you once while you were stargazing, but he never brought it up to you again afterwards.

Megumi flips open the cover, and there are wilted sakura blooms pressed flatly against the blank page, along with your handwriting.

“They bloomed early this year, Happy Valentines Day, Megumi.”

He continued flipping through the pages, and you had annotated the book, highlighting everything you felt he would look back at, the cute moments between the people in the book that reminded you of the both of you, and a bookmark made of wilted flowers that bloomed all year round on the page of the couple’s wedding.

Suddenly, he feels tears in his eyes again, and they overflow and drip onto the pages, slightly staining them. You told him to move on, but how could he? It was obvious you were lying to him again. You never planned to die. Even if you did, it’s obvious you never wanted to die. You wanted to spend your life with him. You wanted to swim in the ocean at night together, you wanted to wake up next to him, go on dates to carnivals just to ride the ferris wheel and admire the view of Tokyo.

And then it finally sunk into his soul that he’d never see you again. Not now, at least.

His hold around the book tightened, and he hugged his knees close to his chest. He wished on every universe that you’d somehow appear beside him and wipe his tears away, chasing away the heavy feeling in his heart. He knows the feeling is temporary, and it’ll go away in a while, but he feels so alone.

By the time he finally stands up, his legs ache from how long he’s been sitting on the ground, and the sun is peeking through the horizon. He’s been consumed by his own thoughts for hours, and he thinks maybe it’s in his mind, but just as he turned around to walk away, a breeze of air went by him, and it felt as if something hugged him, just for a second.

The universe is watching over him after all.

February 14th, two years after your death.

Megumi’s back at your spot again. This time, there’s a grave he had made for you, with a few plants planted beside it, and the ribbons tied around the stems sway in the wind. He sits down beside it and his fingers graze the tips of the soft grass.

He closes his eyes, and he realises he can no longer remember what you look like. Well, not really. He remembers clearly what you look like. He still has the picture all of you took at the mall together, and he holds it dearly, but all of them have grown, and it’s not enough to remember you anymore.

There are new scars around their bodies, they’ve grown taller, become stronger. Megumi wonders what you would’ve looked like if you stood beside him now.

He looks around him, and maybe that’s his answer. The grass is greener, the trees have grown taller, the waves of the ocean are just as if not even more calming now…

You would’ve turned out just fine.

He can’t remember how many times he’s reread the book you’ve given him, but he finds himself turning to the page where the two lovers separated.

“Do you think we’ll be like this forever?” the protagonist asked her partner, and you highlighted the phrase, a small note made in the gaps between words.

“Not forever, but definitely for a long time.”

Year ????

A young male with black coloured hair is walking through a park in Tokyo. The sun is shining brightly, and there are sakura flowers blooming. Some petals have fallen onto the sidewalk and grass, and he inhales deeply before stopping to admire… Everything.

The world looks especially pretty today. He doesn’t know why, but the sky seemed to shine just a little brighter.

A rare smile graces his lips, and he spots his friends and teacher waiting for him under one of the trees, all set and ready for a picnic. Someone taps his shoulder just before he takes a step forward, and he turns around to face someone with a face that seemed too familiar.

You.

He sees you. You, who’s waving at him with that smile on your face that he adored.

by user @ aireia, do not plagiarize and/or translate.

#signed by aireia!#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk imagines #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #megumi fushiguro x you #fushiguro megumi x reader #jjk angst #megumi x you

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calimelontea · 1 year

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it's just not the same!

❥❥i tried to be a little more descriptive in this one, so i hope you guys enjoy! (and hopefully my writing style doesn't sound completely ridiculous :'D)

❥When a cold front hits you and your boyfriend's shared home, how will he react when you come to seek warmth with him in his room? And how will he react if you try to return to yours?

Category- Fluff ☀

Content- Tighnari and Wanderer, GN!Reader, ever so slight hurt/comfort? (you're super cold and he warms you up), a few mentions of death, but nobody actually dies.

❥❥ I was gonna make some more bullet points for Baizhu and Albedo as well, but my job has me working all kinds of extra hours and it's giving me writer's block 😵 so for now I'll just post these ones so I don't leave you guys with nothing this month, and if you guys like it I could do a part 2 for those two as well?

Tighnari

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➼When the other forest rangers said there would be a cold front coming in, you weren't expecting it to be THIS cold. Whereas you were expecting a little temperature drop, some sweater weather and maybe a bit of frost, the cold front in reality was enough to freeze the rivers running through the Avidia Forest.

➼Needless to say, you regretted not taking the advice of your boyfriend when he told you to prepare accordingly, and now here you were, curled up in your bed, shivering as the cold air seeped into your skin.

➼You had tried your best to tough it out, but at this rate, you knew you were going to get hypothermia if you didn't do something soon. So you did the first thing that came to mind. You bundled up in some blankets, put on some slippers and shuffled your way to your boyfriend's room.

➼With some hesitance, you knocked on the door lightly and waited patiently as you heard some movement inside the room. In just a few moments, he was there at the door, an eyebrow raised as he looked at your shaky form.

➼"well well, what's this now? Is it the consequences of your actions coming back to bite you?" he chastised, crossing his arms and seeming to understand immediately the reason you came to his bedroom door. "Nariii" you pouted, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself to try and shield you from the cold. He could tell by how the color was drained from your skin and how blue your lips were that you must've been like this for a while now, so despite how much he wanted to scold you for not heeding his advice, he knew there was no time to waste in warming you up.

➼"Alright, get in here you big lummox" he sighed before grabbing your hand, leading you into his room and closing the door behind him. He hardly wasted any time gathering up some extra clothes from his own wardrobe before unearthing you from the large blanket you cocooned yourself in, layering you up in some proper attire before dragging you off to his bed, both of you laying down together while he rubbed your hands and blew hot air onto them.

➼It was only when he felt confident that you were no longer knocking on death's door that he started to scold you, although based on the concerned look in his eyes, it seemed he was more fretting over you if anything. "You really should take my advice seriously, this could've ended a lot worse for you if you didn't get here when you did" "I know.. Sorry Nari" even though you knew he said this out of genuine worry for your well-being, you couldn't help but shrink a bit when he got like this.

➼He noticed this fact and sighed, "just please don't hesitate next time, I don't want you to get hurt, okay?" he carefully wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, the warmth emanating from his body beginning to sooth your cold skin. All you could let out was a soft "mhmm.." as his comforting embrace had already begun to lull you to sleep.

➼It didn't take you long to pass out in his arms, and while he stayed up just a bit longer to monitor your condition, he couldn't help but feel the corners of his lips turn up in a smile as he looked down at your sleeping form. Despite how forgetful you were, he couldn't deny he loved you deeply. He knew he would have to help you find some proper winter wear soon, but perhaps he could be selfish for just a tad longer. Seeing you in his clothes admittedly made him melt a bit for you.

➼And so, for a while afterwards, he would use the cold front as an excuse to pull you into his room and have you sleep comfortably in his arms. Not only because he had secretly been craving this step forward in intimacy, but also because he genuinely never wanted to see you that cold again, it had scared him a bit.

➼But when the cold front had begun to die down and the temperatures had finally became suitable for regular clothing again, he was a bit surprised when he saw you walking towards your room instead of his. "Where are you heading off to?" he had asked with a flick of his ears, and when you had responded with "oh, I thought I may as well sleep in here since it's warmer, I don't want to overstay my welcome", he frowned.

➼"overstay your welcome? Don't you think we're a little past that point? Come on now, let's get to bed, or would you rather we sleep in your room tonight?"

➼You couldn't help but smile at how insistent he was in both of you sleeping together. He truly couldn't get enough of you, and it was quite telling in the way his tail swished lightly when you agreed.

Wanderer

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➼You were honestly a bit anxious to try and ask at first. Sure, the puppet loved you, he had professed so himself, but he wasn't exactly known for being accommodating. Even to his beloved there would be the occasional sharp slip of the tongue, though a bit less harsh than he would give to most.

➼You worried that maybe bothering him so late at night would make him angry at you, but the way the frigid air bit at your skin and numbed your fingers and nose was far too harsh. You thought it was at least worth a try. So here you were, standing at his doorway with the thickest blanket you own draped around your shoulders, your breath visible in the air as a fog.

➼You lightly creaked the door open just a crack. "Kuni?" you whispered into the dark room, only the moonlight from the window illuminating what was inside.

➼"What is it?" he asked with a sigh, sitting up. He was a relatively light sleeper, considering he technically didn't need to sleep, so he had woken up a good while before you even reached the door.

➼Ofc his ever grouchy tone was present, though slightly muddled by the grogginess of waking up, it had almost deterred you from asking the question, but the cold was seeping into your bones and making your joints ache, you couldn't make this trip be for nothing.

➼"H-hey, is it okay if I sleep here with you tonight..?" you asked with a shiver. "it's.. Really cold"

➼He almost had half a mind to scoff at you and tell you to just deal with it, but as his eyes scanned your shaky frame, he knew he couldn't bring himself to do that. After all, humans could get sick if left in the cold, and he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if you had died because of something he did.

➼"fine, get over here" he grumbled. He was glad it was so dark in the room so you wouldn't see the way his cheeks flushed red at the thought of sharing a bed with you. You smiled happily and hurried over, burrowing your way under the sheets, thankful that they were at least a bit warmer from his presence (although that may or may not have been due to his blushing.)

➼He reluctantly placed his arms around you and held you awkwardly at his side in an attempt to share body heat. You really weren't kidding about being cold, he couldn't feel an ounce of warmth in your skin, and he wasn't even human. But compared to the emptiness of your bed, he felt like a welcoming candle flame in your eyes.

➼You had passed out almost immediately once you began to warm up, however he could hardly get an ounce of sleep for a good while. Your sudden intrusion had his mind racing and butterflies in his stomach. He hated it, but he also couldn't help but feel something warm inside, looking down at your sleeping form. How ridiculous.

➼This went on for almost a week, you would come peeking into his door asking if you could spend the night with him, he'd begrudgingly comply, and the two of you would wake up the next morning in eachother's arms. At some point he told you to just "stop asking and get over here already", so some nights you would just slip into the bed with him and he would curl around you almost immediately.

➼Once the weather warmed up enough though, you had decided it was time to return to your own room. After all, you didn't want to overstay your welcome and make him angry with you. So, you began to make your way to your room.

➼He noticed this almost immediately and furrowed his brow. "Where do you think you're going?". "Ah, I was going to sleep in my room tonight since it's warmer now. I didn't want to inconvenience you too much" you explained, giving him a light smile. "Tch, whatever" he grumbled before making his way to his own room.

➼ "Whatever" indeed, because that "whatever" caused him to spend almost all night tossing and turning in his bed without a wink of sleep. He didn't understand why, but his bed felt.. Empty, almost too empty. It was agitating him to no end, why was he acting so childish over some human???

➼Eventually he decided enough was enough. He got up out of bed and marched straight to your room, opening up the door much similarly to the way you once did. "Hey, are you up?" he muttered into your dark room. He could just barely make out your form curled up in bed around one of your pillows, and upon hearing his voice, you looked up at him before sitting up with a "hm?"

➼He carefully shut the door before making his way over to your bed, practically inviting himself in under your covers and clinging onto you tightly. Immediately, his mind felt more at ease. This is what he was missing.

➼"Kuni, is something wrong?" "… I'm cold" "… Kuni, it's 58 degrees outside" "shut up"

➼Needless to say, you're probably never sleeping alone again <3

#Genshin x Reader #Genshin Impact x Reader #Wanderer x Reader #Scaramouche x Reader #Tighnari x Reader #Wanderer x GN!Reader #Tighnari x GN!Reader #Scaramouche x GN!Reader #Genshin x GN!Reader #Genshin Impact x GN!Reader #x reader #genshin fanfic

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melisusthewee · 8 months

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youtube

In my ongoing attempt to convince people to watch this movie (because it is so fucking good you have no idea), I put together this list of reasons why you need to watch this film. Sorry, but I can't be normal about this:

None of the backgrounds or environments are CGI! Those mountains? Those are the Andes! That's the real Valley of Tears! While filming with the actors was done in a different location (I believed they filmed in the Sierra Nevadas?), location photography and filming was done in the Andes and then spliced accordingly into the film.

It's an ensemble piece! Until now, most movies/docs/books have (understandably) focused almost exclusively on Nando Parrado and Roberto Canessa because of their 10 day trek through the mountains. But the group was more than just the two of them and this film shows that by emphasizing everyone's importance and roles in their survival.

Having said that, NANDO PARRADO IS THE FUCKING GOAT. This guy fractured his skull during the crash which caused his brain to swell. Everyone thought he was dead at first and only brought him back inside the plane when someone noticed he was still breathing. Even then, he wasn't expected to survive for very long so the others placed him where it was coldest which ended up saving his life as the cold temperature along with dehydration helped bring the swelling in his brain down. He was in a coma for three days, woke up to learn his mother was dead and his sister was dying, and decided, "Fuck this, I am getting off this mountain and you're all doing it with me." AND THEN HE DID, part of which involved hiking for 10 days across the Andes with NO GEAR.

The decision to make Numa Turcatti the narrator was brilliant. I cannot say more due to spoilers but iykyk.

Speaking of other films (looking at you, 1993's "Alive"), this movie cast exclusively Uruguayan (and some Argentinian) actors in order to give it proper authenticity.

This movie does not fuck around, with the crash happening within the first 15 minutes of the movie. And it is horrible in that it is probably one of the most accurate portrayals of a plane crash? I don't like flying, and I was incredibly anxious watching it to the point where I thought initially I might have to turn it off. But despite this, it never feels exploitive or anything. Just... real.

The entire movie was shot chronologically in order to give the make-up team an easier time with getting the actors to look increasingly gaunt and disheveled as well as adding a tighter consistency between shots and scenes. Many of the actors lost upwards of 50 lbs by the time filming was concluded.

For the avalanche scene, the actors were buried under nearly 8 inches of real snow. Because of this, the redness of their skin isn't the work of make-up or special effects but is very real.

Michael Giacchino's score. But even more importantly, his use of silence.

Honestly, this movie feels genuinely cold in a way that most movies and tv shows never quite capture. The sound of frozen clothing crunching, the frost that covers them, the clear impact of cold and frost on hair and skin, the shaking and shivering. It's really hard to describe, but like... it didn't feel like these were just actors on a set walking around. It felt genuinely cold.

The payada (rhyming/rap battle) was entirely improvised by the actors.

Enzo Vogrincic (Numa) looks like a young Adam Driver. You know you want to watch him stare soulfully into the camera for two hours. (But really, the acting in this movie is phenomenal.)

For Cold Boy fanciers, Gustavo Zerbino is basically the group's Goodsir - a cinnamon roll doing his best.

Fito Strauch's homemade sunglasses!

I could write an essay about the way the film confronts and portrays the cannibalism. Since I've rambled on long enough, let me just say here that it feels authentic in the way it's handled and not like you typically expect to see in stories like the Franklin Expedition, the Essex, or the Donner Party. (My only criticism is that it looks like they used raw chicken as the meat? And I unfortunately happen to know that human meat very much does not look like chicken.)

MOST IMPORTANTLY, this movie gives voices to those who didn't survive the mountains. And yes, it is a story about survival (and is a wonderful portrayal of positive masculinity) but it is really a story about love. Love for one's friends. Love for each other. And how love is the only way we survive.

#i am not normal about this film okay #sorry not sorry #but it's so crunchy and leaves you with so much to think about #i'm really sad it never got any theatrical showings near me #Youtube

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see-arcane · 2 years

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If in your opinion Jonathan is bi who do you think among the guys would he be most possibly attracted to? Surely not Dracula!

Dracula and the Brides/Stoker's vampires in general seem to have an automatic Voluptuous 'You Find Me Attractive Despite Being Creeped Out' trick going on with them, so any spontaneous feelings of 'ooh~ vampire sexy~' throughout the novel have to be taken with a grain of salt. Especially with Dracula, considering...you know. The everything.

Regrettably, I do have to give the undead bastard some points for charisma when he's actually trying to put the effort in. Jonathan did seem genuinely interested in Old Man Dracula's storytelling even after alarm bells started ringing. But any twinges he might have felt were way too tainted with artificial attraction to count as real sparks, period.*

*Though I do think the vampires' sexy spell is only effective on those whose sexualities/preferences are open to said attraction in the first place. Dracula couldn't have left Jonathan ~all in a sea of wonders~ if he wasn't into men in general. But moving on.

As to who among the Suitors Three Jonathan might find appealing, Quincey is the best bet. They were knife buds! Violent vengeance pals! Jonathan probably spent whatever time he wasn't with Mina or sharpening the kukri getting some manfully mansome sparring time in with Mr. Morris. Much to Jack's lasting distress.

However, my money for the guy he might have had a proper 😳 reaction to doesn't even get to show up in the novel! He got cut from the main story with "Dracula's Guest," and didn't even get a name! A petty officer among soldiers coming to the rescue:

[Insert an already 👀 scene with Dracula the Wolf laying on top of Jonathan and licking his neck after saving his ass from a village of vampires here.]

The soldiers come to take him back to civilization. A trigger happy fellow pulls the trigger too soon, almost shoots Jonathan, but...

I saw one of the horsemen (soldiers by their caps and their long military cloaks) raise his carbine and take aim. A companion knocked up his arm, and I heard the ball whizz over my head.

Always felt this implied said companion was the PO. So, rescue number one.

As they drew nearer I tried to move, but was powerless, although I could see and hear all that went on around me. Two or three of the soldiers jumped from their horses and knelt beside me. One of them raised my head, and placed his hand over my heart.

“Good news, comrades!” he cried. “His heart still beats!”

2. Fellas...

Most of the soldiers start panicking, rightly suspecting vampire business. They fret about whether Jonathan might turn, but:

“There was blood on the broken marble,” another said after a pause—“the lightning never brought that there. And for him—is he safe? Look at his throat! See, comrades, the wolf has been lying on him and keeping his blood warm.”

The officer looked at my throat and replied:

“He is all right; the skin is not pierced. What does it all mean? We should never have found him but for the yelping of the wolf.”

3. Our guy the Petty Officer is covering for him from minute one. Yes, covering. There is absolutely a mark--if a near imperceptible one. (Like Lucy's 'pinprick.') And he's too blood-loss woozy for a drink not to have happened.

The soldiers are understandably still antsy. Not the PO, though.

“What became of it?” asked the man who was holding up my head, and who seemed the least panic-stricken of the party, for his hands were steady and without tremor. On his sleeve was the chevron of a petty officer.

“It went to its home,” answered the man, whose long face was pallid, and who actually shook with terror as he glanced around him fearfully. “There are graves enough there in which it may lie. Come, comrades—come quickly! Let us leave this cursed spot.”

The officer raised me to a sitting posture, as he uttered a word of command; then several men placed me upon a horse. He sprang to the saddle behind me, took me in his arms, gave the word to advance; and, turning our faces away from the cypresses, we rode away in swift, military order.

4. F-Fellas...fellas is it--

As yet my tongue refused its office, and I was perforce silent. I must have fallen asleep; for the next thing I remembered was finding myself standing up, supported by a soldier on each side of me. It was almost broad daylight, and to the north a red streak of sunlight was reflected, like a path of blood, over the waste of snow. The officer was telling the men to say nothing of what they had seen, except that they found an English stranger, guarded by a large dog.

5. Fellas is it gay to fall asleep in the arms of your rescuer while riding horseback and then waking up to hear him ordering his buddies to cover for you and say you definitely weren't getting tasted by a vampire to keep you out of trouble, asking for a friend--

“Dog! that was no dog,” cut in the man who had exhibited such fear. “I think I know a wolf when I see one.”

The young officer answered calmly: “I said a dog.”

“Dog!” reiterated the other ironically. It was evident that his courage was rising with the sun; and, pointing to me, he said, “Look at his throat. Is that the work of a dog, master?”

Instinctively I raised my hand to my throat, and as I touched it I cried out in pain. The men crowded round to look, some stooping down from their saddles; and again there came the calm voice of the young officer:

“A dog, as I said. If aught else were said we should only be laughed at.”

6. Petty Officer Be-Chill still covering for this pretty stray Englishman who clearly got vamp-snacked. For reasons.

I was then mounted behind a trooper, and we rode on into the suburbs of Munich. Here we came across a stray carriage, into which I was lifted, and it was driven off to the Quatre Saisons—the young officer accompanying me, whilst a trooper followed with his horse, and the others rode off to their barracks.

7. Nameless PO, probably: Do not worry swooning solicitor vampire bait man, I will accompany you back to your lodgings. Do you need help getting over the threshold? I could lift you again.

Fast forward to the hotel, and...Jonathan. Buddy.

The officer saluted me and was turning to withdraw, when I recognised his purpose, and insisted that he should come to my rooms. Over a glass of wine I warmly thanked him and his brave comrades for saving me. He replied simply that he was more than glad, and that Herr Delbrück had at the first taken steps to make all the searching party pleased; at which ambiguous utterance the maître d’hôtel smiled, while the officer pleaded duty and withdrew.

8. Jonathan, inviting his rescuer to his room for wine and gratitude: Thank you c:

Nameless PO: No problem. ...So is there a Mrs. Solicitor--

Herr Delbrück, mood killer extraordinaire, apparently invited himself into Jonathan's room to watch these guys drink wine together: ;) ;) ;)

Nameless PO, ducking out of the room: oh hey wow look at the time need to go do soldier things bye

Jonathan: :c ?

Oh, Nameless Petty Officer. What fun the speculation would have been if you were thrown to the Dracula Daily crowd from the start. As it stands, he exists outside of the 'official' start of Jonathan's travel journal entries, so he lives in a limbo outside the book/only in Jonathan's potential memory.

(But then, all of the above is moot anyway, as Jonathan is more Mina-romantic/Mina-sexual than anything else. Even if someone he found hot did want to take things further, Jonathan is a Mina First, Foremost, and Always kind of guy. No permission from her = No exploring his English countryside, The End.)

#all that said #the character of the Petty Officer has stuck in my head #and we'll be seeing him again in Barking Harker with some secrets of his own #jonathan harker #biromantic #demisexual #dracula #dracula daily #dracula's guest

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house-of-slayterr · 2 years

Text

The Gangs All Here:

Tag: @oceansrose2002 @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better @myers-meadow-selfship @queer-and-utter-chaos

Blinky’s POV:

I sadly bid goodbye to Tommy, but promised I’d come visit soon. His mother made it clear I was welcome anytime, despite her original hostility. And I told Monty I’d attempt to fix the wall next time and bring my good supplies. I had pretty much zoned out the whole day, my autism being particularly annoying today. Every little thing was making my skin crawl and my head pound. But I was trying my best to remain calm and in control.

Macy pulled up to our usual spot and parked.

“Wanna get some lunch before we head back to your place?”

I nodded. She frowned, lifting my chin with her finger.

“You feeling ok pretty girl?”

“I don’t know what’s gonna happen when I walk through that door Macy. I ran away, yes I told them I was going but still, I was a coward, I left.”

“I’m sure they won’t hold that against ya puddin’ how could anyone stay mad at you?”

She missed my nose and I giggled.

“Want me to go in with you?”

My eyes widened as I looked at her.

“It’s not like I don’t know.”

“I know that you know. But they don’t- know… you know, you know?”

“You’re cute when you don’t think before you speak.” She jeered.

I rolled my eyes.

“I just, I don’t want them to freak out. What if someone tries to hurt you? That would kill me inside.”

“You’re worried about me getting hurt? May I remind you I beat Thomas in our little wrestling contest last night?”

“Yeah you did” I smiled dreamily.

“There’s that smile I love so much! Come on let’s get you some proper food, I’m buying.”

Macy was too tall to put her arm on my shoulder, so she just put it on my head and I playfully glared up at her. I don’t know how she does it. Macy isn’t the happiest of people, at least not on the outside. Most people would probably find her scary or intimidating. Yet she always managed to make me smile, from that first day we met all those months ago.

Miss G greeted Macy and I Happily. As we sat in our spot she set down our coffees, leaving the pot at the table.

“You know you two are my favourite right?” She said.

Macy smiled at her. “Your boss makes the only edible food in this town” Macy joked, “it’s good to see you again.”

“You two deary, you know what you want to order yet? I know this one wants a pastry.” She laughed.

“Yes please!”

“Give us a moment to think, take your time with the other customers.”

Miss G gave us a kind smile and left us to look at the menus.

“Ugh, why can’t that woman be my mother.” Macy quipped.

“I know right. But Luda ain’t all that bad. She’ll get better.” I said, placing my hand in hers.

“I’ve never seen her yell at Hoyt like that before Blinky, I think you starred a wildfire.” She laughed.

“Good, your family needed to get in gear. I swear y’all didn’t say two words to each other that weren’t about me. Do you guys even talk?” I asked.

“Just me and Tommy. Nobody wants to hear what Hoyt or Monty have to say. And Ma, she has her kind moments but we mostly just stick to ourselves. I don’t mind it that much, means I don’t have anyone up my ass when I disappear from time to time.”

“And where would you be right now, if you weren’t with me?” I asked, curious.

“The Glenwood Cemetery in Huston. The place is huge! Everytime I go I read a few new graves and I like to think about the lives they may have had. Oldest grave I’ve found so far was 1871.”

I smiled fondly. Macy had strange interests but I always let her talk about them. I loved hearing her voice when she was happy. It had this little hum, when her tongue moves to fast and hit the top of her mouth. It sounded like little bees in my ears. She had the slightest lisp that she tried really hard to hide, but I thought it added to her charm.

My voice whistled too, ever since I lost that tooth. Sometimes my tongue would poke out from behind it and make a weird little sound. We looked over the menu, I knew it was really important to her that I ate something “healthy” so I put a pause on the could so I could focus. But that didn’t last long when I caught her staring.

“Yes?” I asked.

“Nothing,”

I squinted my eyes at her.

“Did you know you stick your tongue out when your focused?” She asked smugly.

“Pftt, I dont-“ I looked down, “oh. What’s that doing there?” I said.

She laughed airily, loud enough that some of the other patrons looked out way. But Macy was not one to be shy. Sure, she was stand offish, but that was because she didn’t like people. But she was never shy.

“I don’t know how you do it Blink, but I swear you get cuter each day.”

I blushed heavily.

“Hush, I’m trying to focus.”

She held her hands up in mock surrender. Seemingly she already knew what she was going to order.

“What about this? That’s got protein right?”

I pointed to it on her menu.

“A Falafel burger, sure, tons. You sure you’re up for trying it?”

“Mmm, it’s been a good day. I think I can handle a new food.”

“You two ready?”

“Umm yes, can we have one Falafel burger, fries on a different plate please. And I’ll take two of your lunch burritos and a salad for us to split.”

“You kids are hungry today, coming right up. Oh, Blinky the pastry of the day is apple fritters.” She addressed me.

“Apples!” I said, my eyes glowing.

She leaned in to whisper.

“I’ll put a few aside for you in a take out box.”

“You’re the best!” I smiled.

“Anything else to drink? Or just coffee today?”

I turned to Macy, “milkshake?” She grinned wide, “a strawberry milkshake with two straws please.”

“Coming right up. I’ll put extra whipped cream and a Cherry for each of you.”

“You’re a god send.” Macy complimented.

The woman blushed and hurried off to the kitchen.

“You’re only getting a milkshake cause you’ve been so good today. I’m proud of you for how you handled my family. They’re enough to drive anyone crazy”

I pouted.

“I’m always good.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Sure you are Blink, you’re like a little hurricane that sneaks up on people.”

I frowned.

“Oh come on Blink. You know you can’t have all this sugar all the time. You said you were studying medicine, you should know this.”

“Yeah yeah, so it could thicken my heart muscles. Fine, I’ll cut back on my sugar.”

“Wait really, that’s what happens?”

“Mmm, it increases your insulin and it has nowhere else to go.” I shrugged.

“And you still eat the way that you do? Doesn’t that scare you?”

“Not before you, no. And I didn’t have much of a choice. America is stupid, the things that are the worst for you are the cheapest and most readily available. I could buy a watermelon for $3.50 or I could get two boxes of cereal that will feed me for a week.”

“You mean for breakfast right?”

“Breakfast, lunch, dinner… it doesn’t matter, I used to ration one meal a day so I’m not really used to this whole, normal diet thing.”

Macy cringed.

“God Blinky, no wonder you’re so tiny. Your body never had anything to help it grow. The foods not going anywhere ok? You can eat as much as you want.”

“I know that, it’s just hard I guess. Old habits right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, tell me more about this cemetery.” I tried to pivot the conversation on me.

I knew she wouldn’t judge, but I didn’t like conversations focused on my flaws. It made me uneasy.

“Oh my god, you would love it there. It’s so quiet and the grounds keeper is really nice. There’s actually this crypt there a family and build in the early 1900s. They’re son had been missing for years and they thought he was dead, then he just showed up out of nowhere with no memories. Since he was alive, it never got used. He lets me go in there and write sometimes.”

“Wow, that does sound nice. Maybe I could read some of you writing sometime.”

“You gonna show me that drawing you did of me?”

“Eventually…”

“Then you have your answer.”

I rolled my eyes. Touché. The food came and Macy looked likes she had never seen food in her entire life. It was always funny to me how she could eat like there wasn’t enough food in the world. Miss G set the milkshake in the middle of the table.

“You two let me know if you need anything else.”

“Of course, thank you!” I said politely.

I stared at my food for a second, dissecting it with my eyes. Macy has already taken a bit out of one of her burritos. But she waited until her mouth wasn’t full to speak again. She slid some silverware across the table to me.

“Take off the top bun, it will be easier to cut.” She said.

I took the silverware and followed her instructions. I cut it into 6 neat pieces. And separated them on my plate.

“Ketchup?” I asked.

“Try a bite first.” She answered.

I nodded, slowly bringing the food to my mouth. The texture wasn’t what I was expecting, but it wasn’t bad. The flavour was nice, and I smiled into the bite. She looked at me expectantly and I gave her a thumbs up.

“Ketchup.” I concluded.

She let out a little snort from her nose, which made me scrunch mine in return. It was a adorable. I ate about half of it before I reached for the milkshake. It was much better. It was sweet, and cold and it felt nice on my tongue. Macy had mostly been drinking her coffee, and I had a sneaking suspicion she was trying to save most of it for me.

“You can have some you know, we did order to share.”

“You first.” She said.

“You know full well I’ll drink this whole thing by myself if you don’t stop me.” I teased.

“Ok, sassy. Fine I’ll have some.”

She moved the cup between us and sipped from her straw. It was like one of those classic scenes from those 50s movies. To top it off, she scooped up some whipped cream in her finger and put it on my nose. I pulled back, alarmed.

“You did not just-“

“I did, what are you gonna do about it?”

I took a French fry and threw it at her head, but she caught it in her mouth. I glared at her and she just laughed.

“Face it Blinky, you’re even sweeter than this milkshake.” She said.

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

“I know.”

I moved my plate out of the way, and stabbed my fork into the salad. We got it with no dressing cause I hate dressing. It made the veggies also soggy. Gross. The crispy cucumbers were my favourite part. I was surprised to see Macy was already onto her second burrito. I think it had eggs and meat and cheese, I looked at it in disgust. I didn’t mean to show it on my face, but sometimes I couldn’t help it. Macy rolled her eyes.

“You enjoying the salad.”

“Very fresh.” I said.

She took a break from her monstrosity of a lunch to eat some of the salad with me. I had no idea how she wasn’t full already. I sipped my coffee, the contrast between it and the Milkshake were a little jarring. But it wasn’t bad. The caffeine would help. I’d been sober for almost a week now, and I wasn’t feeling the best. But Macy didn’t need to know about that. I recently learned her middle name was Josephine cause Tommy’s sign name for her was MJ.

He made mine “cute” but signed with a B for my name. How could I argue against it when he himself looked cute signing it. I didn’t want to break his heart, so I gladly excepted the name. It was easier than spelling out Blinky. Tiny’s name already had a sign, so he didn’t need a special one. Miss G came back and she down one pasty for each of us, while sliding the take out box into my backpack with a wink. I smiled at her as she was called away to help someone else.

“Hey M?”

“Yes?” She asked.

“What if I- no it’s stupid.”

“Nothing you can say is stupid Blinky. I say the same thing to Tommy all the time. You both need to be a little more confident.” She said.

“What if I worked here?” I asked.

“Here? It’s not that far from your house I don’t think. Not that I’ve been there yet.” She put emphasis on the last part, “it’s a bit of a walk though isn’t it?” She pointed out.

I hummed.

“But you’d look cute in the uniform.” She smirked.

Of course that’s what she would focus on. The only think more ferocious then her appetite, was her sex drive. And I had unknowingly unleashed that can of worms. Oops.

“I’d have to ask of course. But like, beats working at the gas station. And it’s small enough that even full it wouldn’t be too loud, not that it ever gets too full.”

“Can you handle a job?” She cringed, “I’m sorry that came out wrong.”

“No, no it’s fine. I’ve had plenty before. I think my family will be more lenient on chores if I’m bringing in more money. Plus there’s tips. Only tip we get at the gas station is a middle finger.” I laughed.

“Then go for it. I could come visit you at work.” She smiled.

“And you wouldn’t have to worry so much about me when you’re back home. Now we know they have something healthy I can eat.”

“That is very true.”

When we finished our meal I only had two pieces of my burger left, but I didn’t think it would heat up well. I looked at Macy.

“It’s ok little bug, you did good. I’m proud of you.”

I smiled, glad I was able to please her. I was surprised when she put a whole $20 on the table for tip. I raised a brow at her.

“Made some extra fixing up an old bike and a few days before you called. I’ve got some cash to spend, and she deserves it.”

“Don’t leave it on the table, sticky fingers around here.” I suggested.

We walked up to the counter and slid the money to Miss G.

“Aww thank you cuties, you didn’t half to.”

“Please for all you do for us, I did have a question though.”

“Shoot kid!”

“Are you guys hiring? I’d have to ask my dad but-“

“I would love to have you working here, you’d bring some smiles to this place. Let me go get the paperwork and you can think on it.”

“Thank you.”

We waited by the counter for a second, but that’s when a three boys walked in. Roughly around our age, maybe a little older than me. But they were the rowdy type, that much was evident from the laughter disturbing the peace. I tensed slightly but Macy rubbed her hand up my arm.

The came beside us to sit at the counter, and started hollering for some service. I rolled my eyes.

“Ain’t anybody working here or is it self service?” On of them called.

I grit my teeth, if I was gonna work here I’d have to deal with idiots like this. But they were no worse than the gas station idiots. But when she came back out to hand me my papers and one of the boys said something under his breath, o was beyond irritated. She didn’t deserve that.

“When you’re done serving that fine piece of ass over there, could you help a brother out?” One of the older looking boys said.

I saw his eyes on Macy and I was shaking. She wasn’t very pleased about it either. I said my thank you to Miss G and gave her a look of pity as she walked over to them. What I wasn’t expecting was for one of them to come over while his friends were order.

“You from around here sweetheart?” He asked Macy.

She rolled her eyes turning around.

“No, but my girlfriend is” she put emphasis on the girlfriend part.

I smiled smuggly.

“Why looking for something to do, afraid there’s not much. Why dont you and you’re friend check out Captain Spaulding’s Museum of Monsters and Madmen, if you’re up for a good scare.”

Macy gave me a look, recognising all the months ago when I told her to stay far away. She grinned.

“Yeah, if you’re man enough.” Macy teased him.

“Oh I’m man enough, we’ll check it out for sure. You two hotties gonna be there”

“You bet!” I sent a fake wink. “See you around handsome.”

Macy and I burst out laughing when we got outside.

“So do I finally get to see your Gruncle’s cabinet of curiosities?”

“We wouldn’t miss that for the world.” I grinned.

They deserved it for being rude or Miss G, and Ogling my girls ass.

“You ready for this?”

“As I’ll ever be I guess. Don’t take it to personally if they don’t like you at first. Otis hates everyone.”

She chuckled, “sounds a lot like Hoyt”

I froze, turning to look at her.

“He is nothing like that man.” I said coldly, I hadn’t meant to.

And I know she didn’t mean to insult him. But Otis was nothing like that Vile man Macy shared blood ties with.

“Sorry, that was meant to be a joke. Won’t happen again.”

“No, I’m- I’m sorry Macy I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I’m just a little on edge right now.”

“Blinky you don’t have to apologise for having emotions. You love your dad, and I love that you do.”

I smiled at her, getting onto her bike as usual as we rode back to the house. As we pulled up, I’m sure it was loud enough in the house no one had heard us. I grabbed Macy’s hand and lead her to the garden.

“Where are we going?”

“I gotta check on something first.” I said.

I dragged her around the side of the house, and sure enough there was some fresh dirt. We both stopped and looked down at it.

“Is that?”

“My mother, yeah. Rest in pieces I guess.”

Macy snorted and flipped off the pile of dirt. I couldn’t help but laugh along with her.

“Good, good to know that part of my life is over. I never want to think about her again if I can help it.”

I knelt down and started picking some of the lilies I’d planted a while ago.

“What are you doing Blink?” Macy asked curiously.

I held the flowers up to her.

“Gives these to Mama, than at the very least she’ll like you. If Mama likes you, no one is gonna dare disobey her. Not unless they got hit over the head a few to many times, so maybe don’t talk to RJ.” I joked, “that was a joke btw.”

“You’re cute.”

“So you keep saying.”

“It’s true though. And I’ll keep saying it because it makes you blush every time.”

“You’re evil, you know that woman? Total scum bag.” I said.

“Mmm, and do evil women get a kiss from their partner?” She mused.

“I don’t know, are you gonna be nice when we go inside?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Then I’ll think about it.”

She rolled her eyes, setting the flowers down on the ledge near the house and picked me up, spinning me around. I couldn’t help but giggle, and when she finally stopped she pulled me in to a kiss. I melted into it, feeling all the stress leave my body.

“I’ll behave” she whispered, leaning down so her forehead was on mine.

“And I’ll protect you if anyone tries anything.”

“Aww, my little guard dog.”

I glared up at her.

“Come on, let’s get inside. I’m sure they’re worried about you. I would be too if you suddenly disappeared for 5 days.”

I cringed. Yeah not my best move. But I was glad none the less that Otis let me leave. It was nice to be away from the house for a while. I didn’t need to knock cause I had the house key. I pushed the door open and was immediately greeted by the chaotic sounds of my family. Baby was blasting music in the living room, I could hear Mama and Spaulding chatting in the kitchen, and I have no idea what the hell the others were doing at the back of the house but I could hear it from here.

I grabbed Macy’s hand and dragged her into the kitchen. Spaulding was the first to look up. One thing about him, he never forgot a face.

“Don’t I know you?” He addressed Macy.

“We met a whole back, at that farmers market. Blinky here sold me some of your chicken. Which was really good by the way.”

Smart move, Spaulding loved compliments. Especially about his cooking. He, Mama and Otis cooked the most in the house. Manon specialised more in dinner, and Selena sometimes helped with the prep work.

“These are for you Mrs. Firefly.” Macy held out the flowers and Mama gladly took them.

“Oh how sweet, we’re glad to have you Back Blinky. Why don’t you introduce us to your friend here?”

Mama was always hospitable. Which is why I went to her first.

“Mama, Cap, this is actually my girlfriend. Macy. I stayed with her while I was away.”

“Girlfriend?” Spaulding asked amused.

“Mhhhm, she knows about us.” I clarified so they wouldn’t have to lecturing about keeping someone around being dangerous. “She would never tell anyone.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes sir. My family participated in a similar… hobby.” She explained.

Sure saying you’re a killer is one thing, but I don’t blame her for not wanting to tell them right away.

“When did this happen?” Mama asked, ushering us both to sit.

“Since the Framers Market.”

“All that time and you kept ‘er a secret? Not sure how Otis is gonna feel about this.” Spaulding worried.

“That’s why I came to you both first.”

“You staying for dinner sweetheart?”

“If you’ll have me.”

“Of course Sugar, why don’t you go introduce her to the others. Make yourself at home little miss Macy.”

“Thank you Mrs. Firefly.”

“Please call me Mama.”

I gave Mama a quick hug, and kissed Spaulding on the top of his head.

“Can we talk later?” I asked.

“Sure kid, you know where to find me.”

Macy followed me into the living room where I turned down Baby’s music. Not off, just down a little. My head felt like it was buzzing from all the electric guitars. Baby turned to look at me, but her eyes quickly met Macy’s.

“Who’d ya bring for us Blink?” She asked.

I chuckled.

“She’s not for that, Baby, this is my girlfriend, Macy. Macy this is my- aunt? I don’t know we never really defined that.” I laughed awkwardly.

“Aunt, sister, all the same to me. Love this kid no matter what.” She said, holding her hand out to shake Macy’s.

“Can’t say I blame ya, they’re easy to love aren’t they?”

Baby smiled wildly, already approving of the new company.

“We miss ya Blink, it was no fun without ya.” Baby said, wrapping me in a tight hug.

“I’m sure you managed just fine, looks like you were having plenty fun before I interrupted.”

“Mhhhm, RJ got me a new CD!”

“What is he Santa Claus now? Why the sudden interest in gifts?” She shrugged. “You know where the others are?”

“Umm, Ghostie and RJ are watching a movie in his room. And Doe Eyes and Otis-“

“Doe Eyes and Otis what?” I asked suspiciously.

“They’re busy. I’ll let him know you’re home and he’ll come find you later yeah?”

“Alright…”

I squinted my eyes suspiciously.

“She staying for dinenr?”

“Your Ma said I could, that cool with you?”

“Totally cool! You’ll have to tell me where you got the jacket Macy!”

Before they could chat more I was dragging her upstairs to my room, and Baby was blasting her music again. I didn’t want to bother RJ, and there was something suspicious about Baby not telling me what my dad was up to. But we’d see everyone down at dinner so there was no rush. I closed the door and threw myself face down onto the bed, groaning into my pillow.

“I’d say it’s going pretty well Bumble Bee, you had nothing to worry about.”

“It’s not those three I’m worried about?” I said, looking up at her.

“I live with Hoyt, I can handle anything they throw at me. Promise.”

“Pinky?” I asked.

She held out her pinky and locked it with mine, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“You feeling ok Darlin’ you’re getting a little shaky there.”

“Yeah yeah, I’m cool… cool cool.”

“That sounds like something someone who is not cool would say.”

I sighed, crawling across my bed to lay my head on her lap.

“Why did she have to come here?” I asked.

Macy looked down at me, playing with one of my bouncy curls.

“I don’t know Blink.” She said sadly.

“It’s like everything was going good, great even. I was happy. So fucking happy!” I said.

“Did you just say fuck?” She raised a brow at me amused.

“Oh, right!” I said popping up and shoving a few bills in my sweat jar, “gotta pay up for what I said to Hoyt too. Even if he did deserve it.”

Macy chuckled.

“You say that like someone’s making you have the swear jar Blinky. Swearing ain’t that bad, I do it all the fucking time.” She smiled.

“Yeah yeah. I know there’s ways you can do it that aren’t mean, I just, I don’t like they way it sounds coming out of my mouth. Besides, a few more slip ups and I can get you something nice.” I smiled.

“You swearing on purpose to get something pretty for your girlfriend?” She asked.

“I’m just being lazy on purpose, the swearing is still an accident.” I laughed.

“I’m sorry your mom tried to ruin this for you, that wasn’t very nice of her.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

I sat back down on the bed next to her.

“Hey Macy?”

“Yes Blinky?”

I know she sometimes got amused when I said her name, even though we were already in the middle of the conversation. But I couldn’t help it. I liked the way her name felt on my tongue. Short and sweet, the exact opposite of her.

“Do you smoke? Like, smoke smoke?” I asked.

She seemed a little taken aback, but smiled anyway.

“I have before yes… why?”

“Do you want to?” I asked.

Now she was grinning from ear to ear.

“Why you got some?” I nodded.

“Honestly don’t think I can go back down there without it. Everything’s too much right now.”

She ran her hand along my arms again.

“Oh, and we should tell Spaulding that he’ll have some special guest at his showing after dinner tonight. Sure if you ask nicely he’ll let you help.” I said.

“You just wanna see me in action.” She mused.

“I will neither confirm or deny” I said, as I reached over in my drawer where some of my pre rolled joints were.

I made some mini ones, just to tell calm my mind on a regular basis. I didn’t want to be high everyday, but my sensory issues were not getting easier and it was the only thing that seemed to help. But I found a regular sized one jammed in the back. I grabbed a lighter from my nightstand and crawled back over to wear Macy sat. She laid down on her back, and I put my head on her stomach, laying perpendicular to her.

“Your family lets you smoke?”

“They know I do sometimes. Baby smokes too. Doe Eyes and Otis have regular cigs if you want one. I could snag a few for you.”

“My little thief” she ruffled my hair.

I was going to need to be actually stoned to survive family dinner. My nerves where getting the better of me. I mean I knew she was dead, we saw the evidence. So why did I still feel so heavy? So lost? Why the hell was I so scared? I didn’t notice tears start to slip until Macy’s big hands were on my face.

“Hey little bug, talk to me.”

I shook my head. Words were suddenly very hard.

“Hey, it’s ok, you’re ok. You’re safe.” She reassured me.

I gave her a pity smile. She reached over, grabbing the joint from my hand and lit it, holding it out to me. I weakly took a puff and laid back down, screwing my eyes shut. She took a hit herself, I couldn’t blame her if she was a little nervous. Anyone would be meeting my family. I know she tried to play strong and tough, but she was human like the rest of us.

She let my hair and held it out for me again. After a little while had passed and half the joint was gone, she spoke again.

“Feeling any better?”

I gave her a slow nod, signing a little.

“Are you non verbal right now Blinky?” She asked.

I was ashamed to say it, and I knew she’d figure it out eventually even if I didn’t tell her. I wasn’t very good about hiding what was wrong with me. And I didn’t want to have to hide it from her. I just wish it wasn’t there in the first place. That I wasn’t so broken and life wasn’t so much harder for me for no reason.

“That’s ok baby, you’re ok. Do you want me to tell them you aren’t feeling well and will skip dinner?”

I shook my head and sighed “Bad idea. You need food”

She playful glared at the irony of my comment.

“Yeah, you’re right. How about I do most of the talking tonight then? I think I can handle ‘em”

“Ok” I signed.

“And Blinky, it’s ok you didn’t tell me. But you don’t have to hide your autism from me ok? I’m actually pretty sure Tommy is on the spectrum too.”

I gave her a look that said “really?”

“Mhmm. But when you’re feeling better, you have to promise to talk to me more ok? I can’t read your mind, and you don’t have to suffer alone anymore ok? Everyone in this house right now wants what’s best for you, ok? I’m not gonna judge you Blinky, I love you.”

That was the first time she’d said it. I mean of course I knew it, and I felt it, and I hope she felt it too. But neither of us had said it seriously before.

“You love me?” I sighed.

“More than anyone I’ve ever known.”

I was able to stutter out a weak “I love you” before I felt too tired to speak again.

I swear it almost looked like she was about to smile too. She kissed the back of my hand, respecting that I was way too overstimulated right now.

“Just relax Darlin’ why don’t you try to nap and I’ll wake you when they say dinners ready?”

I nodded, closing my eyes and snuggling up to her. Weed dreams were always the strangest.

An: the ketchup thing is so funny to me cause I’m allergic 😭 damn my tomato allergy ruining everything! Will write the others meeting her next, this chapter was just getting kinda long lol.

#blinky firefly #Blinky #Macy love-Hewitt #house of 1000 corpses au #Texas chainsaw au #otis driftwood #doe eyes driftwood #ghost firefly #captain spaulding #rj firefly #baby firefly #tiny firefly #mama firefly

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sohemotional · 2 years

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Summary: Years after the tragic death of their father, Santana asks Rachel to join her on a mission to save their missing mother before it’s too late. Despite being from a family of hunters, Santana can’t seem to resist the allure of a seductive blonde, blue-eyed enchantress called Brittany along the way. Inspired by Supernatural.

Pairing: Santana Lopez/Brittany S. Pierce

Genre: Romance/Fantasy

Rating: M

Read on AO3

Read on Fanfiction.Net

Chapter 1: Carry On, My Wayward Daughter

When she came to, the sexiest woman Santana had ever seen had ensconced herself on her lap, her hot breaths tickling her neck. The roads sure could be lonely and maybe the way she was burning up inside at the slightest touch from this woman was a sign that Santana hadn’t had proper human contact in a long time.

It was difficult to ignore the dull ache between her legs that was becoming more intense as piercing blue eyes locked onto hers and there was the tiniest, teasing smirk on her lips as if she knew the kind of predicament Santana was in. The little minx was doing this on purpose.

“Whoa, hold up there, Miss. What do you think you’re doing?“ Santana yelped to Brittany’s breasts as the blonde practically shoved her chest in her face. “It’s not even my birthday!"

The blonde let out a soft, tinkling laugh that had no right being as adorable as it was. Brittany was entirely distracting. Everything about her was just so sweet and alluring that Santana had to take a deep breath and close her eyes to remember the task at hand. Sure she was seriously hot and sticky downstairs but blondie wasn’t going to get the best of her just because blondie had the sexiest body known to mankind.

____

Lima, Ohio, October 31st, 1984

“Santana, it’s time for bed. I know how much you love these shows but you can play detective tomorrow.”

Reuben Lopez was a handsome man of average height with a lean and compact but athletic build from years of training his body and a deep, raspy voice. The brown-haired, olive-skinned man who was in his mid-forties with some light stubble on his face, stood by watching his ten year-old daughter with amusement. The small girl sat on the carpeted floor of the Lopez living room with her knees pulled up to her chest, her eyes still glued to the murder mystery she was watching. Reuben narrowed his eyes at her with a serious frown that suggested he meant business.

Though Santana’s skin and hair were a much darker tone, the man’s sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and arched eyebrows were identical to his daughter’s as she scowled back at him. Her small nose, chin and ears were just copies of her father’s features, as were the dimples that deepened on their cheeks when they smiled. Their body language constantly mirrored each other’s. Even the way they both crossed their arms over their chest and popped their necks when they were arguing was identical.

Her dad was equally invested in the show and Santana knew that. She was chewing absently on a mini dark chocolate bar she took out of the huge bag of candies she had accumulated that night, still dressed in the all black cowboy costume with the hat, boots and six-pointed, star-shaped sheriff's badge she had insisted on wearing. He wasn't too impressed by the horror movies they had been watching earlier. Santana imitated her dad and declared she wasn't scared of any of them either, despite burying her face in the cushion a few times during the most terrifying moments and suppressing a shiver.

“It’s obviously that guy. He’s the killer. Why can’t they see the obvious?” She complained, frowning at the serious expression on her dad’s face as he stared her down. “No! I don’t want to go to bed! It's Halloween!”

“Hey, hey, none of that sass, Kitten,” He chuckled as she continued to give him that grumpy stare. “Did you practice your knife fighting techniques today like I asked?”

“Yes, Dad,” Santana mumbled, annoyed. She could never figure out why her father always asked her to do these insane things that no other kid’s parents would expect of them. It was always something related to martial arts, archery, knife fighting, or guns. "Of course I did. For the millionth time..."

Eventually, he gave her this look, his brown eyes flashing warningly. Santana sighed, turning the TV off and held his hand as he led her upstairs. Reuben was the only one who could always get Santana to behave, even during her worst tempers. On their way to Santana’s bedroom, they passed by the nursery. Reuben and his wife, Selena, had painted bright yellow and pink flowers all over the ivory walls.

Santana let go of her dad’s hand, running up to her mother. A short, slim and petite woman with rich brown skin, long black hair that curled to her shoulders, the softest dark eyes, full lips and a very beautiful, oval-shaped face smiled softly at the sight of them. She was wearing a long sundress with a floral print. Santana instantly wrapped her arms around her mother’s waist.

“Mami!” The ten year-old shouted happily.

“Shh Santana, your baby sister’s already asleep,” she put a finger to her lips, gesturing to a very small, brown-haired baby in the crib wearing a onesie with a bright yellow star pattern. Santana pouted and made a face at the pretty, chubby-cheeked baby who only squirmed, a funny expression on her goofy, tiny face as she was dreaming. Selena wrapped her eldest daughter who was leaning into her in a sideways hug.

Selena chuckled softly when the baby began to fuss, picking her up and kissing her forehead before laying her back down in the crib.

“I know it’s a big change for you, being a big sister. It’s a lot to get used to,” Selena chuckled at Santana’s unamused, slightly jealous expression. “Your dad and I still love you too, Mija.”

Santana yawned, still pouting as the baby woke up, blinking and grabbing for Selena. The baby began to fuss when Selena let Santana hold her briefly and she had some serious lung power already when she screamed, despite being only less than two months' old. Santana winced and held her away from her, just staring at the baby dumbfounded. Rachel was a very loud and demanding baby most of the time, always being dramatic over the smallest things although Reuben had pointed out that Santana herself was just as loud when she was the same age.

“Shh, Rach calm down,” Reuben laughed, taking baby Rachel from Selena who was trying to soothe her and rocking her in his arms until she relaxed again, already so attached to her father. “Santana, be gentle. Just smile at her. No need for that scowl.”

“I don’t like her. Why do we need another daughter?”

“She’s only a baby, Kitten,” Reuben responded with an eyeroll at his pouting older daughter. “You’ll change your mind one day, I promise. Rach will be your best friend. Soon she’ll be big enough to play dolls with you.”

“I don’t want to play with her.” Santana grumbled with a pout as she watched her parents with stubborn eyes that were shaped identically to her mother’s and had the same inky, coal dark colour. Reuben and Selena just smiled at her, rolling their eyes affectionately and walked Santana into her room after Rachel had been put back into her crib.

Minutes later Santana pushed back her sheets and got out of bed, hearing the voices of her parents having a serious argument. She pressed her ear up against the wall curiously. She knew she wasn’t supposed to listen in when they were having these serious, adult conversations but it had never stopped her from spying on her parents.

“Reuben, I just don’t understand why Santana needs to know all these things. She’s only a little girl. She’s not ready... I think she should forge her own path.”

“A little girl who’s going to grow up one day and have to deal with everything I’m going through. She needs to know how to defend herself.”

“But why? She doesn’t have to go through all the things you did. That’s why we moved here. That’s why you took my last name. We planned everything so that this wouldn’t have to be their life.”

“I know,” Santana’s father sighed sadly. “But they’ll never be able to get away from this completely. It’s their destiny.”

Santana blinked in confusion, in a shocked daze as she walked back to her bed, getting in and pulling the covers up to her chin. Her mind raced as she thought of the possibilities and her throat felt dry as she shivered. Her heart pounded painfully against her chest as icy fear gripped her. Her parents were hiding something from her. Something that could change her life. After tossing and turning for a long time, she squeezed her eyes shut, gripping her pillow tightly and was finally able to doze off in a troubled sleep. She had never been able to sleep easily.

Unbeknownst to Santana, Selena was restless as well, thinking about the talk she had just had with her husband. He had yet to come to bed. The baby monitor was on and Selena could hear Rachel’s gentle, steady breathing, then all of a sudden the vague sound of a voice humming a lullaby. Selena blinked, wondering why her husband was in the nursery again after they had finally managed to get Rachel to sleep.

She crept out into the hallway in her sleepy, disoriented state and noticed the figure in a dark cloak standing beside Rachel’s crib. She let out a sigh of relief at first. Then she heard the TV playing down in the living room and her heart leapt into her throat when she saw Reuben’s head lolling back against the couch as he dozed lightly. She was so terrified that she couldn’t even scream as she made her way back into the nursery with her husband's baseball bat held in her hand.

The being turned around and there were yellow, inhuman eyes watching her then, a terrifying smirk on its lips as it faced her. Selena screamed for her husband and backed out of the room. She needed to protect her girls.

“Reuben! Come quick!”

Santana heard her mother’s scream followed by her father’s booming voice as he bolted upstairs, Rachel's piercing cries, then the sound of a gun firing a few rounds. Her blood went cold, terrified as she got out of her little bed and her stomach felt sick. She steeled herself, running down the hallway to look for her parents.

She gasped in horror, seeing her father pinned to the wall of the nursery, dark red stains seeping through his t-shirt that were unmistakably his own blood. Santana crept closer to him as he began to say something to her through a sob, in a broken voice. “Santana…Santana I love you. Kitten, please always protect your mom and your sister… your sister... she needs you.”

Santana didn’t understand why he was telling her all this but it was terrifying her. Selena appeared and grabbed the girl's small arm, pulling her away as the flames reached Reuben’s body and she screamed, seeing her father burning. Selena’s face was white with fear as she grabbed a blanket in an attempt to out the fire.

“I have to help him. Take your sister and get out of here. Run! Go, Santana!” She placed baby Rachel into Santana’s arms and the little girl didn’t think twice before following her mother’s orders as Selena frantically phoned for help. Santana could barely breathe, her skin burning and her eyes watering as she made her way down the stairs, the flames creeping closer and smoke rising higher.

Rachel was crying and clinging to her. Flames leapt out at her as something exploded and Santana yelped, shielding the baby with her body as she fell on her knees onto the wooden floor. She scrapped the skin on her legs and her arm got burned but she ignored the pain, getting back up. The Lopez’s sprawling mansion was so big that it felt like it took forever before she was able to make it to the front door, crawling close to the ground and trying not to drop Rachel.

Somehow she made it outside, the baby still wailing and tears rolling down her own cheeks as she kept looking for her parents, wondering when they would emerge from the house. She heard sirens getting louder and a fire engine pulled up. The firefighters began struggling to control the flames while one stayed behind, examining Santana and Rachel for injuries. Eventually, another one of them made his way out, carrying Selena in his arms, her face ghostly pale.

“Where’s dad? Is he okay?” Santana piped up after a while, as Selena continued to stare off into the distance with that vacant expression in her eyes her daughter had never seen before in a state of complete shock. Selena looked at her finally after not replying for a long time, her lip curling and her chin crumpling as she cried openly. Santana had never seen her mother crying and didn’t know how to respond, tears coming to her own eyes. Selena wrapped Santana and Rachel up in a hug, holding the girls close.

“He’s gone. He died in my arms. Santana, we lost your father.”

New York City, Present Day - September 5th, 2005

Santana drove along the almost empty stretch of highway for another half an hour. She had been driving for what felt like an eternity and her mind began to drift. Her father had died twenty-one years ago but the memory of that night was still vivid in her memories, keeping her awake at night and many times when she was driving alone.

In a way, they had lost both parents on the night their house had been engulfed in flames. Her once soft, gentle mother - a housewife who loved slow dancing with her husband and had a beautiful singing voice - had turned into a watered down version of their father. Her mother who had soft hands, had never held a gun before and used to smell so sweet and feminine now was relentless about pursuing any supernatural enemy.

In some ways, they had lost their mother at the same time as their father and then when Rachel left for college, it was like Santana had lost her sister as well. As much as she would never admit it, Santana missed Rachel. Now that Selena Lopez had been missing for such a long time, the loneliness was hitting her harder than ever before.

One thing was for certain, she had to get mom back and she knew just the person to help her make that happen. The only person who understood. The Lopezes had more money than they knew what to do with but at this point, money might have been all that they had. Santana’s relationship with her father, though strained at times, was something she felt guilty about.

She had never forgiven him fully in her heart or told him she did care about him despite their arguments. She missed his sassy comebacks. He had been their protector and now there was nothing she could count on for protection except her own smarts and her gun.

It was difficult for her to see Rachel as anything other than the tiny little girl with the chubby cheeks and sweet smile she had known for most of her life. Selena had been away so much that Santana had practically raised Rachel, the age gap between them obvious as Santana was forced in some ways to become a parent to the little girl in addition to being her big sister.

Santana smirked at the way the little NYADA girls all looked at her nervously and scampered away, a few of the bolder blondes stopping to check her out. Those were reactions she always looked forward to getting on the rare occasions when she drove over to Rachel’s college. The girls were giggling and clumsy, no doubt drunk off of their minds from partying all night. Santana easily picked the lock when she found the right room, getting into the dorm without a struggle and announced her presence in a loud, obnoxious manner.

"Rise and shine, Rach! Surprise visit!"

She was silent and awestruck at first by how much Rachel had grown, at how much her face resembled their mother’s when she finally saw her.

“Who’s there?!” Rachel whipped around, shrieking as she heard someone moving around her apartment.

Santana yelped, dodging as Rachel aimed a huge bust of Barbra Streisand at her, using it as a weapon. “What the fuck. Really, Rachel?”

The shorter brunette sighed in relief at realizing it was just her sister, putting down the object and clutching her chest, trying to catch her breath as her heart rate slowed. Then Rachel furrowed her brows and pursed her lips angrily as her dark brown eyes narrowed.

“Santana? Oh my goodness! What on Earth are you doing here in the middle of the night?”

“Is that any kind of welcome for your big sister?” Santana chuckled, holding her arms open to mockingly offer Rachel a hug while wriggling her eyebrows. “Thought I was gonna catch you with a boyfriend in here, Rachie, enjoying the college experience and all that but since you’re you I should have known that would never happen.”

“What do you really want? I know you didn’t just come here to visit me. You never visit.” Rachel sniffed, taking on a hostile tone but keeping her voice low. “And keep it down, please. My roommate is in her bedroom.”

Santana ignored her accusation but winced because she knew it was true. She hadn’t been around to visit Rachel in a year and had rarely seen her during her previous college years. She hadn’t been able to get over her resentment towards her younger sibling for not joining herself and their mother in the “family business.”

“Whatever. Look, I’ll cut to the chase. Mom’s on a hunting trip and I haven’t heard from her in weeks. It’s weird.”

Rachel frowned in concern, pausing and paying more attention to Santana’s words now after her previous outburst.

“Is she okay?”

“I don’t know. That’s what scares me,” Santana’s brow knit together and she shoved her hands into her pockets, looking down at her boots. “She’s experienced with this stuff and it wouldn’t be the first time Mom got stuck fighting something in some ghost town in the middle of nowhere but this time, my gut tells me it’s more serious.”

“What can we do to help her? Should we call the police?”

“We’re the only ones who can find her at this point and we really don't want the feds knowing our secrets. You know that.”

A door creaked open and they both flinched, relieved when they realized it was just Rachel’s freaky roommate peeking her head out of the door curiously. Santana had met her once or twice before. Despite the fact that she and her sister had seen their share of otherworldly things in their lifetime, Rachel had always thought something was odd about Tina Cohen-Chang - something about the paleness of her skin and her mysterious presence - she’d disappear for days at times and then return, as quiet as ever with her same nervous stutter she never seemed to get over.

Of course, her all-black, gothic style also made her look a little scarier than ever but the sisters assumed Tina was stuck in her teenage rebellion stage still. Pretty lame, was what Santana had said while trash talking the girl.

Rachel glanced over at Tina and then back at Santana nervously. The girl was as sickly pale as always, wearing a black nightgown - of course she would be, Santana thought - and had deep black circles around her eyes. She was holding a green toy lightsaber threateningly.

“What’s happened? Do you have someone over, Rachel?” The girl asked, rubbing her eyes as she took in the sight of Santana. “I was so scared… I heard all this noise and thought someone had broken in!”

“It’s nothing, Tina. My sister just dropped by for an... unexpected visit. We’re sorry to wake you up.”

Tina's expression darkened when she recognized the woman standing before them.

“Oh…greetings, Santana. Haven't seen you around for a while.”

Santana grunted irritably, not bothering to give her a verbal response.

Tina glared at Santana, who narrowed her eyes at her in return. They had a mutual dislike of each other and that much had never changed. Rachel rolled her eyes when Santana continued to glower, grabbing the edge of Santana’s sleeve and pulling her away then keeping her voice as quiet as possible as she reprimanded her.

“Now’s not the time for an argument. You are thirty-one and she’s twenty-one, Santana. Can’t you be a little more mature?”

“Whatever. Should have known you’d be all holier than thou at your fancy Broadway school. Are you coming with me on this trip or not?”

“What? Now?! Hunting with you?! I literally have a Funny Girl audition first thing on Monday morning! It’s… I’ve been waiting for this moment for my entire life.”

Santana held up a finger to silence her, her expression becoming serious as she pressed her lips together.

“Is that more important than Mom’s life?”

Rachel froze and stopped herself mid-rant, a sad, worried look in her brown eyes as the realization of how serious the situation was settled in. As much as she had always had playing Fanny Brice as her number one goal in life, she loved her mother more than anything in the world. Santana was right about this.

“No. Never… you know that. I just… didn’t realize she was in so much trouble. Of course not, Santana. I’ll go with you to find her,” Rachel sighed heavily, grabbing some clothes. “I just… need some time to pack. This is all so sudden. I wasn’t exactly planning on my sister showing up in the middle of the night.”

Of course Rachel would be this high-maintenance, even when they were going on a demon hunting trip. Santana waited for Rachel to shower and pack, lying back on the couch sprawled out with her arms folded behind her head. She kept a suspicious eye on Tina who was wandering around the small dorm nervously.

Santana’s brow furrowed, confused as Tina eventually slipped out of the door, fully dressed in an all black dress, having changed out of her nightgown. Part of her wondered where the girl could be going in the middle of the night but this was also Cohen-Chang, who had always been very strange. Maybe she was going to hook up with that equally annoying long-time dancer boyfriend Santana had always seen her with.

“You’re seriously expecting me to carry all of this, aren’t you?” Santana bristled but eventually relented, taking the heavy suitcase from Rachel that seemed to hold all her possessions. “You don't need all of this makeup and crap. Fine, whatever. Let’s just go.”

Rachel wrinkled her nose when they walked out onto the street corner, staring at the bright red Dodge Viper in disapproval as Santana popped open the trunk.

“You still have Daddy’s car? Do you really think the two of us driving around in this… monstrosity is the best idea if we want to be incognito?”

“Just get in the fucking car, Rachel,” Santana grumbled, annoyed at the “I know better than you” way Rachel often spoke to her. The shorter girl always had to be right about everything and Santana was already sick of her attitude. “Don’t argue with me right now when I’ve already had it up to here. Didn’t you hear what I said? Mom is on a trip and I haven’t been able to reach her in weeks.”

“Did I miss something? Are we going to war with all this heavy artillery?” Rachel questioned, arching an eyebrow as she observed the array of rifles, shotguns, bowie knives, and bandoliers stored in the trunk.

“We can never be too safe. You know that.” Santana shrugged, shoving in Rachel’s belongings and closing the trunk, then getting into the driver’s seat.

They continued driving in silence for an hour or two and Santana smirked as she heard Rachel’s stomach growl. Her younger sister groaned in embarrassment.

Santana noticed Rachel shifting around uncomfortably after a while and chuckled at the tense look on her sister’s face. Rachel remained silent but continued to squirm.

“What, Rachel? Do you need to pee?”

Rachel nodded almost imperceptibly, annoyed at Santana’s teasing. Of course her sister would make a big deal out of it but it wasn’t like she could help it.

“Alright fine, we’ll stop at this place nearby. We’ve been driving since forever. Whatever you do, don’t think about flowing wet things…waterfalls, babbling brooks, running water… ”

Rachel gave Santana a death glare as she made hissing noises at her.

“Santana, you are the worst person I’ve ever met.”

They made it to a gas station and the brown-haired girl was repulsed by having to use their bathroom but too desperate to argue, muttering angrily at Santana when she laughed at her. Minutes later, Rachel was giving Santana a disgusted look from the passenger seat as she showed up with several large bags of cheap potato chips, two large, greasy looking submarine sandwiches in wrappers, beef jerky and two large bottles of soda. She practically threw one of the massive subs into Rachel’s lap and the small brunette yelped, jerking back as if she had thrown a live, hissing snake at her.

“Well, eat up, Rachie. Didn’t you say you were hungry just now?”

“No thank you, Santana. I can’t eat…this!” Rachel was both exhausted and starving at this point. "Haven't you heard that people get botulism from this type of food?!"

“What’s wrong? Too prim and proper for good old gas station food?”

Santana snickered as Rachel continued to glower at her, the smaller girl taking a small bite of her sandwich and making a disgusted face.

“You don’t even like this stuff either, Santana. As a matter of fact, I know you hate it as much as I do. I know you’re just trying to torment me and it’s not gonna work.”

Santana just shrugged, taking a bite and trying not to gag.

“Yeah, I guess I don’t like it but you’re really fun to torment.”

Rachel groaned, throwing the balled up wrapper at Santana’s head and began flipping through the cardboard box she found by her feet.

“You still have cassettes? Kansas, ZZTop, Van Halen… Santana, this music is so old and it’s all screaming. This is dad’s stuff.”

“Okay, rule number one, Rachie, if you’re going to be in my car: driver picks the music, shotgun shuts her cakehole.” Santana snickered, turning the volume up on full blast for a while. Rachel shot a death glare at her, crossing her arms over her chest and she eventually turned it off when it became a little too deafening even for her.

“What’s wrong with you now? Gonna criticize something else about me or my car?” Santana asked, perturbed by the way the girl was staring at her as they drove on. The shorter, brown-haired girl took a deep breath.

“Nothing... it’s just like seeing him in you all the time. I don’t remember anything about Daddy except what we saw in the photos Mami hid in the closet and those home videos she got mad at us for finding but it’s kind of haunting seeing him in you all the time,” Rachel admitted. “You don’t have to do everything Daddy did, you know. It’s like you’re just trying to be him.”

“Whatever. I know you don’t care about this family but someone has to keep Dad’s memory alive.” Santana snarled, getting annoyed.

“Since when do I not care about this family, Santana?” Rachel argued, her voice becoming more furious. “Everything I’ve done has been to represent this family in the best possible light. You’re the one who used to criticize Daddy’s methods all the time and now you’re suddenly his biggest fan?”

“Whatever. Look, that’s the hotel Mom told me she was staying at in her last message.”

Santana drove them into the classy looking hotel and checked them in, Rachel frowning when the older sister pulled out a fake credit card and grinned innocently, chatting the pretty, blonde female receptionist up. She didn’t argue as it got them into the hotel but began to interrogate her in the elevator in a hushed voice.

“Fake credit cards? Really?” She whispered, shaking her head disapprovingly. Santana just shrugged.

“Hey, we do what we have to do. Fake identities and all that. You know the drill.”

Rachel watched as Santana glanced around the hallway to make sure they weren’t being watched before using a piece of paper to get into the room their mother had been in. There were a bunch of newspaper articles scattered all around the room and a thick ring of salt on the carpet encircled the bed in the center. A heavy, worn-looking book with yellowing-pages was lying on top of the sheets. There were a series of other amulets, shells, crucifixes, wind chimes and witch bottles on every surface.

Santana picked up a cat’s eye shell, examining it. “She was here for sure. Salt everywhere and all these amulets. Mom needed protection against something. Looks like she left her journal here as well. Must have been in a rush to get away from something.”

Rachel looked over Santana’s shoulder as she read aloud from the book, finding the page it was open to that had a clip from a newspaper article stapled to it. It was something about a college girl who had recently been murdered in a grisly, horrific incident. Apparently the fourth one in as many weeks in this area of town.

“It’s Handsome Harry. This is his work, obviously.” Santana muttered, grimacing as she read more from the black, heavy journal.

“What are you talking about?”

“Handsome Harry. Mom mentioned this ghost a while back but I guess she was never able to catch him. Dude just goes around in a dapper suit seducing these desperate women, getting them all alone where they’re most vulnerable and then killing them mercilessly. The rumours say his girl cheated on him so this is his revenge. It’s safe to say all of the murders in this area recently were him.”

“That’s terrible.”

“It is. We’ve got to put some bullets in this motherfucker once and for all and send him off to rot in hell where he belongs.”

Rachel nodded, wincing as she read the details of how the women had been killed. She hadn’t been involved in the so-called “Family Business” for a while and she sat down on the edge of the bed, the shock of everything that was going on getting to her. It was all so sudden, just when she had been immersed completely in college life, finally making a name for herself.

“Don’t tell me you’re wimping out on me already, Rachie.”

“I’m not.” Rachel insisted, though she was still breathing heavily. They gathered their things and any of Selena’s possessions they could find, carefully closing the door behind them and going up to their own hotel room. Rachel sighed in relief, lying back on the clean, made up bed. The last thing she wanted to do was think about demons, ghouls and ghosts after she thought she had left the world of the supernatural behind forever when she chose to go to have a normal college life but now she was once again caught up in the chaos.

#Brittana #Santana Lopez #Brittany S. Pierce #Brittany Pierce #Brittana fanfiction #Supernatural AU #Brittana AU #Rachel Berry #Santana Lopez and Rachel Berry #Glee #AWSID #my fics #Santana Lopez and Brittany Pierce

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narrators-journal · 2 years

Text

Daddy issues

Someone on Ao3 requested Stan x fem!reader nsfw inspired by the song ‘Daddy issues’ by The Neighborhood, so I did my best! I’m not usually the best at following song lyrics so I’m not the most confident with how this turned out, but I hope it’s enjoyable regardless!

Did you have daddy issues? Everyone seemed to think you did after they learned you, a twenty-year-old woman, was in something of a whirlwind romance with Stanley Snyder, a twenty-five-year-old, silver-haired marine. "It's the fact that he's a guy your dad would hate," One of your friends pointed out while they drove you home after a weekend spent with them, "Tall, wears leather jackets, talks like he's almost bored, wears lipstick, looks like he rides a motorcycle," They listed, making you roll your eyes, "I don't have daddy issues, I promise." You assured, but your friend just snorted, "Sure dude, sure." With that, you got out of the car and gathered your things to head into your home. However, you stopped halfway across your lawn, spotting a familiar car in the darkness of the night. To confirm your suspicion, a familiar voice spoke up when you got to your porch, "ooOOo, I'm gonna possess you," Stan joked, grabbing you by your hips to make you squeal, "Snyder! You scared the shit out of me!" You complained as your boyfriend pulled you into his lap with a laugh, flicking the cherry from his cigarette and kissing your cheek, "awww, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were scared of ghosts," He teased, returning to his cigarette while you continued to huff, "I'm not scared of ghosts, I was scared you were some creep," You pointed out, the soldier hugging you with his free arm, "Alright, I'm sorry I gave you that much of a scare, I wasn't meaning to go that far," He promised, breathing out a puff of smoke before kissing your cheek, letting you turn your head and turn it into a proper kiss, though the taste of ash and nicotine made you grimace. Despite that, Stan just crushed out his smoke and picked you up, "Where are you taking me now?" You asked, only getting a charming smile while you were taken inside. Once safely in your own home, Stan plopped you onto your couch before crawling over you to lay on you and soak up the soft, affectionate moment before you spoke again, "Hey, can I ask you a random question?" The soldier simply hummed at that, so you continued, "Do you have a motorcycle?" For a moment, he didn't give any sort of a response, but then he lifted his head to look at you, "Uh? I used to have one when I was, like, twenty-one, but someone stole it and Xee threatened to slash the tires of any replacement I got," He shrugged, and you just grinned, "Why do you ask though? Were you hoping I did?" The man asked, but you shook your head, "No, no no. My friend just said you looked like you had one, and that you looked like someone my dad would hate," You explained, making him snort, "I kinda am, so they're not wrong." He agreed, making you give him a deadpan look, "So, what? You think I have daddy issues like they do?" You partially accused, though you couldn't stay mad when he gave you a charming smile, even when his words were aggravating, "I mean...If it helps I have daddy issues too," he offered, giving you a quick kiss to remedy the scowl you gave him. "Aww, don't look at me like that, dear. If it helps, no one pulls em off like you do~" He hummed, giving you another kiss that led into another, then another, until you finally gave a small laugh and wrapped your arms loosely around his neck to pull him in for a proper deep kiss. After that, your arguments melted away in favor of matching his mouth's movements and pressing your body against his while his hands began to explore. In return, you arched your back and let him slide his hands beneath your clothes. When he pulled away for air, he was quick to move from your mouth to your neck, kissing and nibbling at your skin until you were mewling and beginning to squirm beneath him. With that, he slipped a hand into your bottoms to tug them down and toss them to the floor. In return, you began pulling his shirt and pants off, having to give up his kisses to your neck briefly so he could toss away his shirt. When he was stripped down, you pulled him back into a kiss and let him slide a hand up your ribs and between your thighs to massage your breasts and rub at your clit until you were back to moaning up a storm and clawing into his shoulder. Only then did the soldier maneuver himself between your thighs and press a finger into you to further work you up, grinning down at the flushed, wide-eyed look you had from the burning desire he'd masterfully stoked into a roar in you. When he was satisfied with your whimpers and moans, Stan lined himself up and pushed into you with a moan of his own. With your legs wrapped around his hips, and his hands now holding your wrists down into the couch cushions while he began to rock into you. The more you moaned, the more Stan targeted that special spot inside of you that had your toes curling while you whined his name. However, seeing your eyes roll into your skull when the euphoria each of his movements sent through you brought you to the point of your thoughts being wiped didn't stop him, because all he did was let your wrists go and dropped down to plant a few sloppy kisses on your panting mouth while he ground into you. Thankfully, just as the sparks of pain were beginning to overwhelm the waves of pleasure he continued to send through your bones, his pace turned a bit frantic and he had to pull out, groaning a few curses while covering your stomach with warm splatters of his seed. The mess and warm sticky feeling on your skin earned a weak grimace from you, but it was better than the risk of pregnancy. "You still bothered about people assuming you have daddy issues?~" Stan panted, giving you a few lazy kisses until your thoughts could be strung together enough for you to grunt, just batting at the soldier until he let you up to clean yourself up. As you went, you felt his eyes still looking you over, but you were too tired for banter that night. Instead, you just cleaned your stomach off, plucked his shirt off the floor to be your pajamas, and flopped onto the now-boxer-clad man for a nap.

#dr stone #dcst #Stanley Snyder x reader #x reader #Stanley snyder #ask #lemon #not sfw

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keiarchived · 4 years

Text

Freshman Year

stoner!Atsumu x f!innocent!reader x stoner!Suna ft stoner!Osamu

warnings: Drug (weed), gangbang, oral (giving), anal, dubcon, fucking whilst high, university!au, sex tape, cockwarming, corruption kink, sleepy writing

words: 1.8k

To say you were inexperienced, naive and artless, they weren’t wrong. You’re the last person who would cheat on their essay and cause yet another headache to your lecturer. You’re the classic ‘goodie two shoes’ as Atsumu calls you, the same couldn’t be said about both Miya twins and Suna, however.

They are anything but good.

You should’ve listened to those whispers of warnings and rumours that made their way around the campus, how they’re the last people you’d want to get involved with despite their popularity among students. You either love them or hate them, there’s no in-between with valid reasons.

You don’t belong in their world, you know that. But it doesn’t stop Suna from wanting to strip the innocent of you. Maybe it's the way you smiled nervously at him or maybe the glare you gave Atsumu whenever he made those snarky comments, but one thing for sure is that he wants to show you what you’ve been missing.

“Suna...” It almost came out as a whine whilst your head fell back against his shoulder, dark iris swallowing those rings of colours whilst your lips parted delicately with a cute pout. “Hmm? What’s wrong?” He coo, arm resting snuggly and comfortably around your waist as he pulls you even closer to press a kiss on your temple. Chilling at the Miya’s with Suna and his friends has become a regular thing ever since your first proper encounter with him at the party, where your friend ditched you for another guy. Perhaps you should’ve seen through him before accepting his offer to keep your company that night, maybe then you could’ve avoided whatever this is between you and Suna. But would you’ve pushed him away if given the chance?

“Wan’ more...” You whimpered, earning a chuckle from the man as he peppered your cheeks with few more playful kisses before pulling away. “What do you want, princess? C’mon, use your words” Suna love to see it when you’re desperate like this in his arms, staring up at him with those bleary eyes, cheeks flustered and small hands trembling as you grasp at his jacket with wants. “Mmn... smoke... wan’ more of smoke...” You slurred between each hitched breath of yours, feeling a few pairs of eyes glued onto the both of you as Suna leaned closer after taking a drag of his blunt before letting the heavy white smoke slips past your plump lips like weightless velvet. Oh, if only you knew how alluring you are when taking every ounce of the fumes from him greedily. Close enough for both of your lips to slot together, but far away enough for a grin to tug at his lips before pulling away. “Still not used to taking it on your own hm?” Or maybe you just adore these tingles dancing against your skin every time Suna shotguns it to you, as if he’s feeding you his essence in the most sexual way possible.

“Ya babying her too much, Suna. Gonna end up spoiling her.” Atsumu wasn’t wrong, ever since his friend introduced you to an unfamiliar world of ecstasy, he has you wrapped around his fingers like a puppy on a leash. “Why not, jealous Tsumu?” You could barely listen to their conversation as a giggle slipped past your lips, Suna could still remember the time you took your first hit. Trying to copy him only for those bitter smoke tickles your throat, making you cough with tears swelling from your eyes. It was cute though, he praised you for being a good girl, done so well on your first try as he wiped away those tears before wrapping those legs around your waist to give you the fucking of your life and the rest was history.

It was Suna who got you addicted to... him.

“You bet, how come she’s always hanging off your arm when you guys aren’t even together?” Astumu scoffed as shifts from his seat, watching from the opposite sofa with a frown over his defined features. It is unfair really, how you’ve chosen Suna over anyone else. Atsumu would love to slips his arms around you once in a while too, playing with those pretty lips of yours whilst you get drunk of him instead.

Despite no strings attached between you and Suna, shaking your head no as soon as he mumbles softly under his breath, beckoning you to go sit with Atsumu but no — you didn’t want to. “Nnu...Wanna stay...” Instead, your grip tightens on the fabric of his jacket, snuggling further into him until your head is buried at the crook of his neck.

If only you’re sober enough to see the faint but taunting smug smile Suna have stretched across his lips as he shrugged at his friend, guiding you to sit properly on his lap instead with your back facing Atsumu. “Better luck next time.”

God knows how long you’ve been sitting like this, legs folded on either side of Suna’s lap as you rest against his broad shoulder. Pins and needles crawl up your numb legs, shifting with an uncomfortable whine. To think Suna would waste a perfect opportunity like this, you’d be wrong, especially when all if most of his companions are high off their heads to even notice what the two of you’re about to do. “Baby, want my cock?” Suna isn’t subtle about it either, bulge poking at your clothed core. The mention of his cock was enough to have your clouded mind runs wild, grinding against his clothes erection with an eager nod. This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve cockwarm Suna in front of other souls like this, Tsumu would shuffle towards the both of your and join in occasionally. Shotgunning you with his own blunt whilst lazily as he jerks off to your moans and tangle bodies. “What happened to the sweet innocent princess we knew?

As the time you spend with Suna and the Miya twins grew, so did your confidence. Becoming more familiar with the substance than you originally were, however. It was naive of you to think you could do this properly on your own without Suna here to keep you out of trouble because you’re a big girl who knows how to take care of herself. But instead, you have taken a pretty big hit, blame Atsumu. It was his idea to lower the amount of tobacco this time around, instead of feeling the familiar high you have with Suna; this is something way stronger.

How did you end up atop of Tsumu with his cock buried deep inside your dripping cunt, you have no idea. Only remembering fragments of things he had said to you prior to this, “Suna aren’t here is he? Shame. Let me be Suna tonight for ya, baby. Ride me inside, bet I could treat ya better than ‘im, c’mon baby, don’t be shy. It’s not like he’s ya boyfrien’ or anythin’.” That’s all you could remember before a snap of Atsumu’s hips snapped you out of your thought, drawing a meal from your lips. “C’mon, baby. Don’t hide that pretty voice from me now.”

Atsumu’s little plan would’ve been a success if it wasn’t for Osamu, consider it payback. Call him selfish if you want, but seeing his twin brother knocking the breath out of your lungs sparks his jealousy. Sure he could’ve joined in easily but what’s the fun in that?

Suna has been stood by the door for a while now, watching as you desperately bounces on Atsumu’s cock and moaning his name between each of those sloppy kisses. But still, that stoic face remained unbothered, maybe a twitch here and there but nothing major, the completely opposite of what Samu thought he would do. After all, despite Suna saying he doesn’t care nor does he wants you, everyone knows how much he cares for you enough to keep you around for as long as he has. Instead, Suna approached the two of you. Yanking your head up those sweaty locks of yours whilst you could barely register the shift in his eyes, “You knew this was gonna happen didn’t you? Just wanted an excuse to fuck Tsumu.”

He wasn’t wrong, both Miya twins shares the same face and it is hared to ignore their handsome features after all.

Osamu was dumbfounded when Suna positioned himself behind you instead, not only did he not have a good go at Tsumu but at the end decide to join too before prepping your rear end the best way he can before inching in, frowning as he does. “Fuck... just as I expected. You’re so fucking, right baby”

Neither one of them paid attention to Samu before Suna caught him palming at his jeans, only then did he come closer with his cock freed with one hand whilst the other holding a phone and hit record. You should see the way your lips parts whenever you’re close or the complete fucked our expression that suits you so well, no worries though; Samu will keep a good record seeing as how well you take all three of them together with Samu’s cock lodge deeply down your throat, stuffing you full with all ends.

At least this time you are not the only one who’s slurring nonsense as you came, Tsumu was the first one to pump you full of his cum first then it was Samu and lastly Suna. Showering you in praises and kisses before the younger Miya twin decides to take up the aftercare duty upon himself since Tsumu has already blacked out and Suna doesn’t look that far off either with the remaining blunt in his hand.

Samu is the gentlest of them all, washing you carefully as though you’re a glass doll. Having you put on one of his shirts and setting you on the kitchen counter whilst he cooks, earning small nods and hums from you whenever he asks you a question. Samu’s surprise you even managed to hold yourself this well before finally crashing against his shoulder, it was a struggle to get you to eat some food and drink some water but he did anyway.

Only for Suna to snatch you away again with a wave of his hand and a pat on his lap, you practically scrambled out from Samu’s arms and into Suna’s chest. Snuggling comfortably against him with a content smile on your face.

At the end of the day, you are Suna’s precious little princess. He’s the one who shown how to roll a joint, how to smoke from a bong and be a little rebellious. The Miyas twins could hook up with you as many times as they want, but he knows you’d be running back to him as soon as it is over.

Tag list: @m-mortimer @selfishwitch @sleepyrintaro @cxnicalsweetheart

#haikyuu smut #hq smut #osamu x reader #suna x reader #atsumu x reader #osamu smut #suna smut #atsumu smut #hq 🏐#tw’gangbang #tw’corruption #tw’dubcon #tw’drug #this been on my mind while fucking day #been screaming at izzie about it and I’m just #I WAMT STONER SUNA TO WRECK ME

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miekasa · 4 years

Text

random boyfriend levi hcs (modern au)

↯ pairing: levi ackerman x (fem) reader

↯ genres and warnings: modern au, fluff, i feel like he would honestly just be a quiet, gentle soul if given the opportunity to relax for once in his life lmao

↯ notes: i was planning to do some levi hcs, and then i got a request for them so yay! here you go, enjoy!

Has a carafe and fills it every morning (because he finishes it every day). He also absolutely does get his 6-8 glasses of water in on the daily thank you very much.

Oh he likes bubble baths. Not into lighting a thousand candles around him (altho he does like candles). Maybe one or two. Doesn’t stay for very long, but does like to get a good soak every once in a while, after he’s already showered of course.

Likes showering with you. A lot. Not necessarily for sexual antics, but he just likes it. Likes it a lot when you get all soapy and then hug him. 10/10. Although shower sex is always a welcome added bonus.

Fluffs your pillows for you in the morning behind your back. Not sure why it’s a secret for him, but it just is.

He’s like a fucking VIP member at SoulCycle or some shit and enjoys taking you with him to the classes just to see you sweat and suffer LMAO

Doesn’t mind doing things late at night with you, actually prefers it to some extent. Just don’t ask him to do anything dumb.

“Do you wanna walk to McDonald’s and get a McFlurry?” “No. I fucking hate McDonald’s and it’s 2am.” ....... “Do you want to drive around and maybe get some chinese food on our way back?” “... I’ll get the keys, let’s go.”

Surprisingly, likes to bake. It’s somewhat relaxing and therapeutic for him. He’s not the best at things like brownies and cakes and icing and decorating and all of that, but is really good at smaller, I suppose more refined desserts.

Think things like little fruit tarts, lemon squares, creme brûlée. Things that might not require a lot of ingredients, but are very particular in technique.

He doesn’t mind cooking though. But he likes cooking for other people best, not to mention he can be picky about his take-out. It can become a chore to him otherwise (and you can miss him with that meal-prepping bullshit), but he doesn’t mind cooking dinner if he knows it’s for you and him to share. And is willing to honor any particular meal request you might have.

Not exactly a wine connoisseur, but he doesn’t mind having a glass with you when you ask. He keeps bottles you and his friends get for him, but he doesn’t know shit about tasting and pairing and all that. If he needs to know or needs a recommendation, he’ll ask Erwin.

Into niche home design things like lighting fixtures, finding the perfect handles for his furniture and drawers, and things of that nature.

Very much a DIY kind of guy, and your fixer-upper. Need to assemble furniture? Fix a broken TV? Re-tile your bathroom floors? Levi’s your guy.

Loves candles. Not super sweet smelling ones like birthday cake and vanilla bean, but loves lighter, fruitier scenes like eucalyptus mixes, lemon, even sage. Always has candles on hand and never misses a single Bath and Body Works sale.

On that note, yes he does coupon. Why wouldn’t he? Capitalism already sucks and everything is so expensive, he’ll take a bargain where he can get it.

Never owned a speaker because he never saw any use for it, but one day, you coerced him into having a mini-karaoke session while you were cooking together and he found out he enjoyed it quite a bit. (The music playing a loud, not the karaoke. Even though he’s a pretty decent singer).

So when you bought him a record player for his birthday, it easily became one of his most valued possessions. And he’s really enjoyed collecting vinyls.

Other than that, he’s open to most kinds of music, and likes it if you make playlists for him—otherwise he’ll just listen to whatever you have made.

Levi and Erwin are presidents of the Beyhive but you didn’t hear that from me. Nothing but respect for THEIR Queen Bey.

Enjoys taking walks and going running when the weather is nice, and likes having you along with him. It’s actually on occasion on which he prefers to hold your hand in public. You don’t always talk much, but it’s still nice and Levi really relishes in it.

Genuinely laughs out fucking loud whenever you put a face mask on and cannot take you seriously for the next 20-35 minutes LMAO

“Hey, Casper, did you want me to get you a glass of water on my way back.” “FUCK YOU MY SKIN IS GLOWING LEVI!! GLOWING!!”

Despite that, he still fucking steals your other skin scare!! Like retinol isn’t expensive as hell!!

Likes getting massages from you, and may or may not have feigned or exaggerated soreness form his workouts a few times to get one.

Fucking hates pumping gas, but doesn’t trust the little brats at the gas station to do it for him, and would rather eat a pair of jeans than let you get out and get gawked at, so he does it himself.

If you’re in public doing something/looking at something and taking too long, Levi will just start nudging you to get you moving. Like if you’ve already spent 10 minutes looking at different pasta shapes in the grocery store, he’ll put a hand on your waist and slowly usher you back to the cart so you can actually finish your shopping (and go the fuck home).

On that note, he pulls you/grabs at you quite a bit, usually to out the way of other people or harms way (or so he claims). For example, pulls you back further onto the sidewalk while you’re waiting at the crosswalk; further away from the lines on the ground near trains and busses; away from Hange.

Really likes kissing you. Not in public, but doesn’t mind having you all over him in private. And honestly, when he wants it, he doesn’t mind being all over you either.

He’s a particularly big cuddle bug in the morning bye.

Likes it when you drive. Mostly because he can just chill in the passenger seat and take a nap.

LMAO he can’t ride a bicycle. If you taught him, he’d probably pick up pretty quickly, but nobody ever taught him so he doesn’t know how yet.

(When you find this out, you’re VERY eager to teach him and Levi feels like he might have finally met his demise). “Do you want some training wheels, Levi? I saw a pretty pink pair in the toy store on the way here.” “No, fuck you, I just need to find my balance—hey, don’t let me go! Do you want me to die???”

Despite not liking having his photo taken, he’s a pretty good photographer and doesn’t mind taking pictures of you.

Keeps a picture of you and him inside his wallet. You don’t know that it’s there.

Despises the dentist with every fiber of his being and would not fucking go if you didn’t force him to. Seriously, you have to book the appointment for him and everything or else he’s just not make one or go.

And it’s not even like he has bad teeth?? They’re fine, maybe just in need of the regular professional cleaning. He just hates people prodding inside his goddamn mouth.

Which is very weird and you tease him very loudly about because he’s fine with the doctor?? And the ophthalmologist?? And everything else but the dentist LMAO

Quite spontaneous with dates in all honesty. Sometimes he just sees shit or has an idea and asks you if you’d be down.

Not one for cliche coupley items, but you do have matching sneakers. (They’re his favorite pair of sneakers).

Picks up things you’ve left laying around and puts them in their proper place. “Levi have you seen my—” “It’s on your desk. Where it belongs.”

Museum dates! Not that he cares for the pompous air of museums, but objectively they’re nice. Quiet, pretty objects, clean. Overall, not so bad. Just don’t take him to a fucking history museum.

Has a habit of kissing the palm of your hand. It’s his silent way of telling you he loves you.

Lays his head on your lap when you’re sitting on the couch. Claims he’s not keeping up with your shows but secretly is. Curls up into a ball and takes a nap halfway through tho.

#aot x reader #snk x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi x you #aot imagines #snk imagines #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman fluff #eren x reader

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restapesta · 3 years

Note

23. Don’t you get it? You’re the only one I can be honest with.

Mickey takes being alone with Ian for granted. He really does.

It's quite sad he only realizes that when he's not alone with his ginger life companion—specifically when he's stuck in a moving car with him and fucking Phillip, feeling like a pussy for not having the guts to just open the door and jump out.

Did Ian put child's lock on his door, what the fuck?

He can't do this. It's a fifteen-minute ride to the Gallagher house and Mickey won't be able to survive it. No fucking way. Why did Ian have to say yes to picking Lip up from work? Did he know what hell he would be putting his poor husband through, huh?

If college bitch says something about his shitty delivery job one more time, he swears to God—

"And you know what the best part about this shitty delivery job is?" No. Please, God, make him stop. "Bathroom? Doesn't even fucking exist,"

If Mickey had a gun, he'd stuff it in his mouth.

From the corner of his eye, Mickey sees Ian's gripping the wheel slightly tighter, his knuckles turning white, his tongue bitten between his slightly clenched teeth. Sadly, only Mickey can see him be so frustrated from the passenger seat. He wishes Lip would lean over from the back and see how fucking annoying he really is with his constant babbling.

Maybe it's good he didn't bring a gun with him—Ian looks like he'd wanna stuff it in his mouth, too.

Does he have child's lock on?

"Anyways," Lip breathes out and Mickey focuses on the buzzing of the AC so he wouldn't have to endure the brainwashing his brother-in-law's—why him?—voice is doing.

Ian seems to be thinking the same thing, his eyes rolling discreetly to the back of his head, staying there for a moment or two.

Mickey's torn between telling him to keep his eyes on the goddamn road or just letting him crash their new car into a pole. At least then they wouldn't have to listen to the yapping that's filling every nook and cranny of the fresh interior.

Their car had never seemed so small. Since when is Mickey so claustrophobic? There used to be so much room.

Oh right, Lip's ego is taking up most of it. How could Mickey forget?

"Oh, yeah," He says suddenly, and Ian and Mickey share a look. What now? Will he ever stop? "I meant to ask you about your meds, Ian. You told me you were visiting your doctor or some shit like that."

Mickey reclines back in his seat, lips pursing as he waits for Ian to fill Lip in on the new prescription and its side effects, and whatever other shit Mickey's already got written down in the notes on his phone from when Ian told him in detail about it.

He had been pretty down when he came home from seeing his doctors, listing off all of the shit he was worried about with the new therapy and adjusting to it. He even had a couple of sleepless nights that resulted in him seeking out different pharmacies to buy sleeping pills, which ultimately led to a night of sleepless vomiting because the cocktail of pills didn't really bode well for Ian's stomach.

Mickey doesn't mind reliving it. Doesn't mind listening to his husband talk about the things important to him and things that Mickey should know about.

And, truthfully, Mickey's already come face to face with the fact that he likes knowing about all of Ian's shit—they're already living, sleeping, and working together, so the prospect of knowing that new meds give Ian diarrhea if they're taken on an empty stomach doesn't really seem like a TMI-type of thing to know.

When Ian's related, nothing and everything is pretty much TMI.

"Oh," Ian responds after a moment of silence. His eyes aren't focused when Mickey turns to look at him. It seems as if he's racking his brain around for the proper words, yet can't seem to find them. Eventually, he just lets out, "Everything's the same. Nothing new."

Mickey knows that's not true.

"Didn't you say you were being put on some new shit?" Lip's confused. Mickey is too.

Ian was put on new shit. Shit that landed him with a week of goddamn exhaustion and a fucked-up stomach.

"No. It's the same."

"Oh," Lip mutters. "Okay then."

And he continues to go into another monologue about why being a delivery boy is such a shitty job to have with a mind of his.

Mickey stares at Ian's side profile for as long as it takes him to turn around and meet his eye. It takes him long—in fact, Mickey's pretty sure Ian won't be turning around any time soon.

Why would he lie? Why would he hide the fact he did change his meds when it's really not that big of a deal?

Mickey's even more confused by it because Ian had ranted about his doctor's appointment the day of it, nearly talking Mickey's ear off. He had been annoyed, relieved, and worried, all at the same time, and the entire Tuesday was just spent with them talking about bipolar like the mundane thing it was.

So, why wouldn't Ian just want to retell that shit again? It wasn't as if he didn't still have frustrations over it. Not like he wouldn't fucking jump on the chance to talk about his biggest concerns the second the opportunity presented itself.

Why then?

Lip's still talking and Ian's still not looking at him.

Mickey places a gentle hand on his thigh, trying to get his attention. In response to Mickey's thumb running over his husband's jeans, Ian just places a hand on top of his, picking it up and raising it to his mouth until the rough skin meets the smoothness of his lips. When he finally looks at him, there's a plead in his eye. An answer to Mickey's unasked question.

Later.

"Ugh, can you guys not do that here? Since when did you become that couple?"

They both ignore the dumbass in the backseat of their car. Ian turns to look ahead, and he pushes his foot down visibly on the gas pedal, and Mickey knows that the time until they're able to drop Lip off is cutting shorter.

"You guys are really annoying with that mind-reading shit, you know that?"

Mickey breathes in deeply.

Five more minutes. Just five more minutes and they'll be alone.

Ian's hand doesn't disentangle from his, but Mickey does move them so they're laying on top of his leg, palms pressed tightly together. He squeezes at it once.

Ian squeezes back.

There's a faint mumble from the back.

"I fucking hate being the third wheel."

Mickey barely stops himself from jumping into Ian's lap, just in spite.

Instead, with his free hand, he just flips him off.

---

They're driving to their place when Mickey finally asks the question. They've been alone for a couple of minutes now, after a prolonged—much to both their dismays—goodbye to Lip in front of the Gallagher house. As soon as it was appropriate to, Ian peeled out of the driveway, putting as much distance between him and his family—his annoying-ass brother—as he possibly could in a record time.

At first, Mickey fiddled with the radio until he landed on some radio station that played pop-shit music, lowering the volume until the Taylor Swift song—he hates that he knows it—was just a hum filling the silence. Ian isn't speaking, but he doesn't seem tense.

He seems just as always, shoulders even further relaxed—slumped, actually, because he has the posture of a question mark—now that Lip is out of the car and in the hands of the others to deal with.

"So," Mickey starts casually when his weirdo of a partner starts singing lowly to Lover on the radio. It's a song they only listen to when they're feeling sappier than usual, but Ian tends to always be sappy, so none of this sweet singing shit was a surprise for Mickey. The lyrics coming out of Ian's mouth still make his chest swell pleasantly, despite him barely holding himself back from rolling his eyes. "What was that?"

"Hm?" Ian's eyes momentarily move to eye Mickey. They go back almost immediately. "What was what?"

"What was that thing with Lip?" The question isn't meant to be judgmental nor accusing. Mickey really is just curious.

It wasn't him whom Ian had lied to. But why did he lie in the first place?

Ian shrugs, lowering the volume with the switch on the wheel even further until they can barely hear the soft voice.

"I just didn't feel like telling him." Is the simple reply.

"Why?"

"Because."

"Ian."

"Mickey—"

"Come on, man, don't give me that bullshit."

"I'm not—I don't," He exhales roughly as if finally forcing himself to admit to something he doesn't want to admit to. "I don't like anybody knowing about it. It's nobody's business but my own."

Mickey makes a face, still confused as fuck. He gets the reasoning behind the words, but it's just not clicking in his brain. Maybe Lip really did brainwash it. "You say you don't like anybody knowing, but you told me."

Ian glances away from the road and sends Mickey the type of look that says he thinks what Mickey just said was the dumbest thing possible. It's incredulous.

"You're not anybody, Mick."

And that's sweet and all, but—

"Lip's not anybody either."

Ian sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers, dramatically exasperated. "Don't you get it, Mickey? You're the only one I can be honest with. Completely transparent."

Mickey doesn't know why he's still pushing, but fuck, there's no way. "You can be transparent with Lip. He'll hear you out, give you advice. Won't judge you." Why is he defending Lip again? "I'm not the only one who understands."

"Yeah, but you're the only one who isn't annoying about it. If I wanted Lip to know, I would've called him straight away. But instead, I talked to you. Mickey, you're a dumbass if you don't see that you're the only one I want to tell."

Well fuck.

Mickey blinks. He actually is a dumbass, but that's already been genetically proven. This is something else.

Mickey feels Ian's words deep in his chest. His heart jumps to his throat—it's one of the best things Ian could've said to him. It doesn't feel fucking real.

"Really?" He asks pathetically. It's not like Ian would lie; he's always had a knack for saying everything that's on his mind. Mickey loves that about him right now. It's just that—Mickey? He wants to tell Mickey about it and nobody else?

Ian smiles at him. "Really, babe," Mickey blushes as the nickname. "You know just how many questions to ask. When to listen and when to talk. When to give me advice and when to tell me to get out of my own head." Ian's eyebrows furrow. "Lip doesn't know how to do that. Not like you—"

No. Mickey will not cry. No. It's just eyeball sweat.

"—With you, I know that I can say whatever is on my mind and won't feel like shit about it. It's fucking liberating, having somebody like that."

Mickey breathes in deeply. Fuck Ian for using his words like this and making his heart squeeze impossibly. Why is he so fucking perfect all the fucking time?

How did Mickey get so fucking lucky?

"Yeah," He responds dumbly, out of breath—because it legit is logged up in his throat at the moment. He clears it. "I guess that's what best friends are for."

And the grin Ian sends him in response to the sheepishly-said sentence is enough to make butterflies explode inside Mickey's belly—ugh, no, he's supposed to be past that stage, for fuck's sake.

Ian's still grinning as Mickey's whole face probably turns the shade of Ian's favorite vegetable—maybe that's why Ian likes it when Mickey blushes—and he has to avert his gaze so he doesn't go even redder than Ian's hair.

"Best friends? I feel honored, Mick."

"Shut up."

"No, for real."

"Shut up."

Ian laughs and spares Mickey the embarrassment by raising the volume up on the radio, the song now booming loudly through the space.

Ian glances over at Mickey right as he starts singing it joyfully, a wide smile on his face. This is the Ian Mickey knows and loves—happy Ian.

Mickey's favorite Ian after the horny one.

Mickey's chest swells with pride. He ended up with Ian. The Ian who loves him unconditionally; who knows just the right to say and when to say it; who just told him Mickey's the only one he can be real with.

I can only be honest with you, too. He wants to tell him. I only am honest with you.

Instead of saying the words, he starts singing himself, and the screeching voices of two men stupidly in love are seeping out of the slightly opened windows, the wind whooshing them away.

I can only do this with you, Mickey thinks. I'm only this free with you.

Judging by the way Ian's smiling, Mickey guesses he's thinking the same thing, too.

"Darling, you're my, my, my, my lover."

#gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian and mickey #shameless #shameless us #*ficlet #i only know about bipolar from thw show so don't hold my word for anything written in this #btw anon hope you have a wonderful day #thank you for the ask!

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drawlfoy · 3 years

Text

detention retention finale p.2 (the real finale!)

masterlist (catch up on parts 1, 2, and the first half of the finale here!)

request guidelines

pairing: draco x reader

request: no my original idea

summary: gryffindor and friend of the golden trio y/n y/l/n is tasked with getting close to malfoy to learn his secret in 6th year. things quickly become more complicated.

warnings: (please pay attention this time around) nsfw content, implied sex, swearing, character death. however, if you are sensitive to gore know that this one is a lot less graphic than the first half of the finale

a/n: wow. here we are! this part is going to be considerably more light hearted than the first part. ngl while writing this i reread my 8th grade diary when i spent hours overanalyzing what my crushes did/said and i kind of wanted to emulate that school crush feeling of “does he like me does he not”. if this seems like a weird turn considering how dark things were in the last chapter, i’m sorry i just really wanted to give poor draco and y/n a break fdajkfls. i hope you guys like it :)

word count: 16.1k (the longest part of them all...lmfao)

tags! @sycathorn-slush @writeandtranslate @gruffle1 @missmultifandommess @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell @yiamalfoy @crystalox @dracoismybabey @dreamcxtcherr @decaffeinated-turtle @marrymetheonott @felicityofbakerstreet @daedreamss

here’s a spotify playlist i made for this!

enjoy!

Back at the Gryffindor tower, she was met with a surprise: Ron, sitting cross-legged on her bed, paging through a random Quidditch catalog he stole from Fred.

“Hi, Ron,” greeted Y/N tentatively. Despite the fact that Harry and Hermione had both been outwardly stand-offish towards her, Ron had, for the most part, remained neutral. “What’s up?”

He jerked his head upwards, his eyes wide. “Sorry, er, you scared me. Hey, Y/N.” Ron awkwardly waved.

“Is something...going on?”

“Oh.” He uncrossed his legs and sat up straight, his thumbs twiddling together in his lap. “I just wanted to, erm, have a chat with you. I know Hermione and Harry are a little angry with you still, but I miss you. And I don’t think they’re right in doing this to you.”

Y/N allowed her shoulders to sag in relief as she joined him, letting the bed sink under both of their weight. “I understand why they’re upset. I just felt so bad, you know. Drac--Malfoy is going through a lot right now, and even though he’s been a prat to you guys, all of a sudden it was like I would be a horrible person to ignore what’s been going on with him.”

“Harry and Hermione think it’s because you’re a pureblood,” Ron said. “That’s mostly why I came to talk to you. Harry said something before the day in the bathroom about how he wasn’t surprised ‘your kind’ was so quick to turn on us.”

“Does he not know that you’re literally a--”

“Exactly.” A nervous laugh left Ron’s lips. “I mentioned that, and I think he realized how messed up that line of thought was. Anyways, he feels proper terrible about hurting you the way he did. I think you’ll have to wait around a bit before he swallows his pride and apologizes to you himself, but he hasn’t been the same since what happened before the break.”

“Wow.” Y/N allowed that thought to sink in. “And...Hermione?”

“She’s still hurt,” admitted Ron. “Can you blame her, though? One of her best friends starts messing around with her childhood bully?”

She winced. “I know, I know. Believe me, I know. But we’re not...like that.”

“I think you should try talking to her again. I’m not sure why you’re so insistent on keeping a promise to Malfoy, but nothing’s going to change unless you tell her why you did what you did.”

“Thanks, Ron.” Y/N reached out to lay her hand on his shoulder. “Also, I don’t want to be gossipy or anything, but I think you should leave Lavender for Hermione.”

Ron balked. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s just an idea,” said Y/N, shrugging. “I just have a feeling you two would be really cute together. I dunno what it is. Just an inkling of a thought.”

“I would never leave Lavender,” he said, frowning as his eyes hazed over. “I would never do that…”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” Y/N smirked, elbowing him in the side. He grinned at her, the dimples easily forming in the freckled skin of his cheek.

“Shut up, Y/N.”

Hermione Granger was not a difficult witch to locate. All Y/N had to do was wait until prime studying hours before searching the library’s long halls until she found the bushy head of hair craned intently over a large textbook.

“Hermione.”

At her voice, Hermione snapped to attention, a sour expression forming on her face. “What do you want?” She didn’t even wait for a response, dipping her head back down and continuing to take notes.

“I want to apologize, properly, for what happened,” Y/N said, settling into the seat across from her and dropping her voice. “I know I didn’t give you a very good explanation about what was going on, and I know I wasn’t completely honest with you.”

“I’m not interested in hearing what you have to say right now, Y/L/N.”

She brushed off the pain of her last name being used instead of her given name and continued. “I know you must be really hurt that I got close with Malfoy, especially considering how cruel he was to you.”

Hermione remained silent.

“I know that I’ll never understand how it feels to be an outsider in this world,” she said. “I’m sorry that I can’t change what happened in the past. You’re allowed to be as angry as you want with me. Believe me when I say that I never meant to lie to or to deceive you. You had to have noticed how different Malfoy looks. He needed someone, and I was there. He might not deserve that kind of treatment, especially not from you, but it would’ve been wrong of me to just let him suffer on his own.”

Hermione finally met her eyes, a few tears shining in the deep brown depths of her stare. “I don’t understand how you could overlook all the things he’s said about me. Is...that what you think of me, too?”

“Of course not, Hermione,” exclaimed Y/N. The angry shh from the table over made her drop her voice once again. “You’re twice as capable as my entire bloodline combined. You have every right to be part of this world. You are part of this world and you always have been. If I thought that Draco hadn’t changed, I wouldn’t have become friends with him.”

“You call him Draco now?”

“He’s my friend. And I think that if things were a little different, he’d actually defect from his family’s beliefs and join our side. Living firsthand in the close proximity of Death Eaters really took a toll on him.”

Hermione chewed her lip. “This is really hard. I don’t know what to say.”

“I miss you,” confessed Y/N. “And, to be honest, I felt quite left out, too. I know you and Harry and Ron have important confidential business to attend to, but the way it was treated made it seem like I was too stupid to hear about or understand it. Draco didn’t make me feel that way, and I liked it.”

To her surprise, Hermione’s features softened. “I’m sorry. I really am, Y/N. I don’t know why I didn’t realize earlier how unfair we were to you about that.”

“Really?”

She shrugged. “I think so.”

“Are we okay, then?”

Hermione frowned a little deeper as her idle hand allowed her quill to dribble ink over the fresh parchment she used. “Not really. I think I need some time. It’s hard for me to feel like I can trust you again after all of this.”

“I completely understand,” Y/N rushed out. “Hopefully one day things will be better, yeah?”

“Yeah. Maybe.” Hermione offered her a small smile before turning back to her work. If it had been another time, Y/N would’ve invited herself to sit across from her and distract her as she tried to study, telling Hermione all about her day and how much she wanted to drop kick Goyle across the Quidditch pitch, but it was different now, and she knew that.

Without another word, Y/N got up and left her old friend in her library.

Her dorm was rather quiet as she settled back into her bed for the second time that day, this time happy to find it entirely empty. It was a Sunday, after all, and she had an entire stack of homework to try and drag herself through before her classes the next day.

As her fingers began to card through the messy parchment of her desk, she took notice of an item that hadn’t been there before--a crimson red envelope, embossed with glittery golden piping and a roaring lion. Her family crest.

Y/N tore into the parchment as she wracked her brain to try and guess the contents. A howler? No, she’d been (mostly) good. A gift? She hadn’t been that good. What awaited her was much more underwhelming--just a boring old piece of parchment with black ink penned in her father’s handwriting.

But the news that it brought her had the memories from Christmas Break rushing back.

The next day, he was sitting in his Potions seat, making small talk with Pansy that coaxed a few laughs out of both students like nothing had happened the day before. Their eyes met briefly before he uncomfortably cleared his throat and turned away, back to Pansy’s animated speech over how ridiculous this class was.

Her heart ached at the sight. How could he act like nothing had ever happened between them? How could he just evade eye contact like that? Y/N felt a wave of uncontrollable jealousy wash over her when the thought of Pansy lying in his silk sheets with the knowledge that she was actually HIS, that he actually wanted her. It was all she could do to avert her eyes and pretend it didn’t happen, though Draco wasn’t exactly ignoring her anymore, which was almost worse. Now that she knew he only saw her as a friend, it only hurt so much more when he would chivalrously offer to walk her back to the library at night or say polite hellos to her in the halls.

The days began to bleed into each other again, speeding along even quicker now that she actually had people to sit with during meals and to talk to during common hours. Hermione and Ron had begun speaking to her again, though Harry was still making himself sparse whenever she appeared in a group.

To her surprise, though, that changed one day when a paper crane fluttered onto her desk in Charms. She opened it quickly, hoping desperately (and against her will) that it was from Draco, but instead she was greeted with a messy scrawl that she knew very well.

Meet me after practice on the pitch if you’d be okay with talking to me. -Harry

Despite the recent events, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a twinge of nostalgia for the many times that Harry had written her similar notes, back when their relationship wasn’t rocky and she was actually helping the Trio. That wistfulness was quickly replaced with anxiety when she tried to figure out what to expect from Harry.

“Y/N,” he greeted her a few hours later. She rose from her seat on the bleachers and began to walk alongside him.

“Hi Harry.”

“Listen,” he began, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “I know I’m not very good at talking about feelings--that’s why I’ve been putting this off for so long--but you deserve an apology for what happened in Myrtle’s bathroom. I don’t think I’ll ever understand your connection with Malfoy, but that isn’t an excuse for what happened.”

Well, this was going better than expected. “I’m not going to lie and say that it’s okay that you hexed me, but I don’t blame you all that much.”

Harry let out a nervous laugh. “That’s, er, really good to hear, Y/N. I am so, so sorry for what I did to you. Are you okay?”

“Just peachy,” responded Y/N. “Madame Pomfrey even said that the scarring might go away.” The way the blood drained out of his face made her realize that that probably wasn’t the right thing to say.

“Oh, Merlin, there’s scarring?”

“Forget I said that,” replied Y/N, placing a hand comfortingly on his arm. “Water under the bridge. It really is okay.”

“Well…” He coughed awkwardly as they neared the castle’s entrance. “I think I owe you an explanation as well. If you want one, that is.”

“Shoot,” she said. “Preferably not a deadly curse at me, though.”

If Harry thought that was funny, he certainly didn’t show it. “Looking back on what happened, it was all just a complete blur. I lost control.”

“Because I hadn’t told you about Malfoy?”

“Oh, well…” He cleared his throat, avoiding her eyes. “Obviously I was angry that you’d lied to us. And I was angry at Malfoy over Katie Bell. But that wasn’t what made me lose control. It was seeing you together. There was this moment before either of you noticed I was there and it just made me sick to my stomach to watch. Merlin, the way he…” Harry trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut. “The way he looked at you. It just boiled my blood.”

“What do you mean?” asked Y/N, beginning to grow more and more confused. How could Harry have seen something that wasn’t even there in the first place?

“And the way you two looked at each other in Potions,” he continued, clearly not planning on answering her question. “It makes me sick. He doesn’t deserve you.”

“He doesn’t see me that way, Harry,” she said, her voice little.

“Has he told you that?”

“As a matter of fact he has.”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh. Sorry about that.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” she replied, holding his palms up in a surrender. “It’s not as if it came as a surprise or anything. Plus, not like I care. Just because I don’t want to see him get hurt does not mean I have feelings for him.” Y/N was talking too animatedly, something that prompted her friend to tilt his head and send her a curious look.

“Right. Well…” Harry stood up, brushing his robes off. “If I didn’t make it clear enough already, I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ll ever understand what you see in him. But you haven’t lost me. I just hope I haven’t lost you.”

Y/N gave him a grateful smile before launching into his arms. He started, but once Y/N had her arms around his neck, he hugged her back. She breathed in the familiar woodsy smell she’d known since she was 11 and swallowed the lump in her throat. “I missed you, Harry.”

“I missed you too. So much.”

She was just about to poke fun at him for being sappy when someone pointedly cleared their throat behind them, prompting her to spin around and prepare to tell someone off for interrupting her conversation. Once she saw who it was before her, though, she froze.

“Try and keep the PDA at a minimum, yeah?” Draco Malfoy said, his lips twisted into a bored scowl.

“Draco,” she warned. He simply arched an eyebrow at her before swiftly passing by the two, being sure to brush harshly against Harry’s shoulder.

“What has gotten into him?” she asked in astonishment. “Merlin, it’s like we time traveled back to 5th year or something.”

He scoffed at her side. “Y/N, what did I tell you?”

The next day, Draco wasn’t at breakfast. Y/N tried not to think too much about his empty seat as she listened to Ron ramble on about how crazy Lavender was being. She had finally migrated over to the Gryffindor table, bringing her new Ravenclaw friend along with her. Hermione was still giving her side eye, but it was better than being treated like a complete outcast. This time around, Parkinson was gone from the Slytherin table, too. The thought of Pansy being the one to comfort him filled her chest with the slimy coolness of jealousy, but instead of dwelling on it further, she stabbed her fork through the strawberry on her plate and took a bite. If he wanted to mess around with her, he could. Merlin knew he needed some sort of distraction. But her most private thoughts couldn’t help but wonder if he ever had feelings for her. There were so many moments that made her think otherwise--the way he’d blush when she said anything flirtatious, how eager he had been to walk her to her dorm, all the glances sent her way…

It was at moments like these when Y/N sternly reminded herself that they were just friends and that was all he’d ever seen her as. Friends brushed hands. Friends walked each other to their dorms. Friends stared across the room at each other sometimes. Friends gave each other gifts. Hermione, Ron, and Luna had all acted similarly to her in the past and it was entirely platonic. She was just overanalyzing.

He didn’t show up to Potions, Charms, or Defense Against the Dark Arts. Snape was giving her the eye, and Y/N uncomfortably shifted in her chair as she wondered if the wizard had found out it was her who stole the Veritaserum.

“As you all may know,” he drawled, stalking the perimeter of the classroom, “A particular potion of mine has been...misplaced. If any of you happen to know where it is, I suggest you confess now.”

Nervous chatter erupted around the room as Snape’s eyes bored into hers. Was he using Legilimency on her? Wouldn’t she feel something? Despite her worries, he broke eye contact and spun around to the board, scrawling the topic of the lesson on the chalkboard. Y/N reminded herself to breathe.

He wasn’t at lunch, Transfiguration, or dinner. Y/N was starting to believe that Draco had just up and left Hogwarts as she began to get ready for bed, showering off the day and dressing in comfier clothes. For once, her homework load had been lightened to the point where she could put it off for a full day. Diffuser on, windows open, and sleeping clothes on, Y/N was ready and settled into bed early with nothing but her racing thoughts to keep her company.

Was Draco okay? Did something happen with his task? Where was he?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a light rap on her door.

“Y/N?” A young girl’s voice, muffled but distinguishable through the heavy wooden door shook her out of it. She groaned, throwing the blankets off her and closing her hand around the doorknob. She wasn’t even a prefect, but for some god-forsaken reason the first-years always went to her instead.

“Candace,” she greeted. “What’s cracking?”

“Someone wants to see you.” The first-year’s voice sounded shakier than usual. Y/N finally cast her eyes up from the short girl to take in the sight of a rather disheveled looking Draco Malfoy standing in her hallway.

“Draco? What are you doing here?”

He cleared his throat. “Are you busy?”

“Candace,” Y/N said, addressing the eleven year old in front of her first, “Thanks for helping Draco. You should go to bed, you know. It’s late.”

Wide-eyed, Candace dashed off without any protest. Y/N cast a raised brow to Draco and tried to look like she hadn’t spent the past 12 hours obsessing over his disappearance. “You better have a good reason for showing up at my dorm in the middle of the night and scaring one of my first-years to death.”

“She wasn’t scared,” he argued.

“You must be horrible with reading children,” stated Y/N. “Anyways, is this a conversation that you want to have in my dorm hall? Or would you prefer to come inside?”

He tilted his head towards the doorway. “May I?”

“Er...sure. Come on in.” She bit back the quip about already offering. “What’s going on? You missed all your classes today.”

“I’m aware,” he responded drily as he sat down on the same spot she’d just been nearly asleep on. “I just...something happened last night. I didn’t know where else to go.”

Y/N tried not to blush at how flattered she was. He didn’t even like her. Why was she acting like that still? Friends did this sort of thing. Friends were there for each other. “Oh. Do you want to talk about it? Or do you want to just take your mind off of it?”

He seemed to ponder this for a moment before exhaling a deep sigh. “I don’t know. Maybe take my mind off it until I feel ready to talk about it.”

Y/N gave him a small smile, leading him by the cuff of his sleeve over to her window. “I think I know something we can do. Grab a pillow and a blanket.”

He did as she asked while she opened up the window wider until it was large enough to crawl through, spelling the tiles of the roof outside clean.

“Are we going on the roof?”

“As long as you’re not too scared of heights, yeah,” she responded, using her desk as a stepping stool while she swung the rest of her body out on the old Hogwarts roof. Despite the age of the castle, the structure was thankfully sturdy. “Pass me anything you want out here. I’ll get it set up for us.”

“I’m not sitting on that dirty roof,” he said, his usual snotty tone creeping into his voice as he handed her a blanket for each of them.

“Okayyy, Your Highness.” Y/N rolled her eyes. “We can sit on my blanket.” True to her word, she took the one she usually slept with and covered the tiles. “Will you come sit with me now?”

“Since you asked so nicely.” He settled in next to her, his own blanket barely draped over his knees while she sat cross legged at his side, trying not to shiver from the cold late winter air. “Wow. This is actually a better view than from the Astronomy tower.”

“I know, right?” she said, trying to ignore how her heart fluttered every time he looked at her. “You can see Hogsmeade from here, too.”

The pair watched the scenery before them in silence. Y/N drank in the landscape bathed in soft moonlight, the winding creeks leading into the Dark Forest reflecting the moon while the Black Lake’s waves gently lapped at the shores.

“I come up here sometimes when I get stressed,” she confessed after a little while. Draco turned to look at her, his lips slightly quirked up and his eyes soft.

“Yeah?”

“It just helps clear my head,” she continued. “I feel really lucky to live in the Tower. It must be kind of weird to know that if you opened your window you’d just flood your room.”

Draco snorted. “You get used to it.”

Y/N hummed in something that felt a little like agreement.

He shuffled, clearing his throat. “By the way, I’ve been meaning to tell you this since that night. I’m…sorry that I can’t give you what you want.”

“It’s really okay,” she said, her cheeks growing hot. “I understand. You can’t change how you feel. I’m happy to be your friend and eventually that’s all I’ll ever want.”

Draco dipped his head in a nod of acknowledgement when a brilliant display of lights suddenly exploded over Hogsmeade. Fireworks. They were obviously magic, charmed to glitter in the shape of the words, “Happy Birthday, Margie!”

“Oh my god, happy birthday Margie,” Y/N echoed, eager for the distraction of their conversation.

“I wonder how old she’s turning.”

“I bet she’s 34,” said Y/N.

“32.”

“33, maybe, but that’s pushing it.”

She returned his grin before she felt something hit the top of her head--a raindrop, fat and cold--and roll down the back of her neck. “Shit. I think it’s going to rain soon. Do you want to go back in?”

As if to accentuate her point, the clouds above them rumbled. Draco shrugged. “If you want. I kind of like staying out here, though.”

“Me too.”

They sat in the quiet for a few more moments, the only sound coming from the soft patter of the rain and the occasional boom of Margie’s birthday fireworks. Y/N began to shiver as the raindrops became more frequent, her loose sleeping shirt and her shorts not really doing much for her. All of a sudden, she felt something fuzzy on top of her head.

She looked to her left to see that Draco had lifted his blanket to drape over both of them, creating a tent of some sort. “Thanks, Draco.”

“Don’t mention it.” His smile set off the butterflies in her stomach once again, but she beat them back. The fireworks continued, now switching to a glittering sage green. “I bet Margie was a Slytherin.”

“Or maybe she just likes sage green,” argued Y/N.

“Maybe.” He held her gaze for what felt like a second too long before clearing his throat and turning his attention back onto the night sky. It occurred to her at that moment that they could’ve just transfigured the pillows they were sitting on into umbrellas, but traitorously, she didn’t want to mention it if it meant she lost her chance to be near him.

She felt something lightly brush past the hand she had rested in the space between them but thought nothing of it, instead focusing on her breathing and making sure she didn’t sound like she was hyperventilating because she most certainly felt like she wanted to. She’d never shared her special roof spot with anyone, not even Harry or Ron. But he didn’t know that.

The fireworks exploded with a crescendo of motion as multiple green sparkles were launched into the air, crackling and sparking with energy. At any other point in time, Y/N would’ve found it easy to focus on the beauty of the show, but something else caught her attention: the fact that Draco’s hand was now set directly next to hers, the edge of his touching her with the lightest of pressures. Every nerve ending in her left hand felt like it was burning with energy as Draco, without even sparing a glance in her direction, inched his hand over just enough for his pinky to overlap with hers.

Y/N tried to remember how to breathe as her thoughts ran wild. Friends touched hands sometimes. Maybe it was an accident. Maybe he didn’t even know it was her hand.

She heard Draco’s own breath hitch in his throat as his hand finally slipped under hers, intertwining their fingers and turning them so her hand rested in his palm.

Friends held hands sometimes. There was nothing romantic about this. Nope. This was normal. Y/N’s frenzied thoughts were interrupted by Draco’s voice.

“You know how much danger my family is in,” he said, finally revealing what had him so shaken up. “Well, I got a letter from my mother last night. Apparently she’s been getting these strange, veiled threats. She can’t identify the owl and it seems like whoever this is is hell-bent on breaking into the manor. My aunt and the rest of the Death Eaters have been ridiculing her for even worrying about it.”

Y/N started to feel a guilty pit in her stomach. The letter her father sent her was beginning to make more sense. “Draco, that’s awful.”

“Do you think that maybe they’re the ones who are sending them to her?” he asked, his voice raising an octave at the end, flourished with a small crack in his tone. “As a way to rush me to the end of my task?”

Draco had slowly leaned into her as he told her his worries, and Y/N found herself gently squeezing his hand. “I’m so sorry you have to deal with this on top of everything else. This isn’t fair to you. Is there anything I can do to help you? Do you need help solving the cabinet?”

He shook his head, casting his gaze down to their hands. “Is it okay if I just stay here for a little?”

“Of course you can,” she said, immediately regretting her words. Having him around would only make her feel worse. Was this how he treated all of his friends? She held back an ill-timed chuckle at the thought of him holding hands with Goyle.

“Thanks, Y/N.” His eyes were so light that she could still see the silver hue of them in the dark, reflecting what little moonlight found him under the blanket. “You know, I’m glad we had detention together. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Pansy kept badgering me all day about how she could help instead of actually listening and Blaise just told me that if I kept moping around he’d nab my mother himself.”

“Oh,” said Y/N. Jealousy surged through her as she thought again about Pansy. When she held hands with him, she probably never had to wonder what it meant. “Do they know about…”

“Not everything,” Draco clarified. “That’s just you. They just know about my current house guests. I haven’t told them any specifics.”

Another pang of guilt rattled through Y/N as she ran through the information she’d gotten the night prior in her head while he squeezed her hand back, his thumb running along her skin. She felt like the shame of not mentioning it earlier was burning her up.

“Draco, I need to tell you something.” The makeshift blanket tent all of a sudden felt like the most intimate location in the world as he turned to face her fully, now gripping her hand with two of his own and leaning closer, his eyebrows raised in curiosity. “What is it?”

“I…” She trailed off, squeezing her eyes shut as she mentally ran through the contents of the parchment on her desk. For a moment, all she could hear was the pounding of rain and Draco’s breathing.

“If this is what I think it is, then I--”

“I’m not about to confess to you again literally right after being rejected,” she snipped back, pulling her hands from his grip in a moment of unexpected humiliation. “I’m not that stupid.”

Draco took his own hands, now empty, and folded them neatly on his thigh. He stopped meeting her eyes. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t--I wasn’t going to--”

“It’s--no, I’m sorry.” Y/N found herself angry that she gave up her excuse to hold his hand. “That was just a little embarrassing for me. I promise I won’t bring it up again. This is something totally different.”

“It’s okay. I understand.” To her surprise, there was no usual teasing lilt to his tone; he was being entirely genuine.

“I want you to know that we can call this off at any time,” she began, watching his blank expression carefully should it change, “But I hope you think about this.”

“Think about what?”

“I’m kidnapping your mom.”

There. It was out. Draco’s mouth had long since fallen open, a look of mild horror on his face. “What the actual fuck?”

“Let me explain,” Y/N rushed. “The Order owes my family a favor. My mom knew yours. I may have mentioned something about the treatment towards her over the holidays and now my family is orchestrating a way to fake a kidnapping-turned-murder situation to get her out.”

He blinked at her.

“Of course we can call it off anytime you want,” Y/N repeated. She cast a quick Accio (something she was surprised worked considering how shaky she was) and summoned her father’s letter from her desk, thrusting it into his arms. “Read this. It has all the details.”

Draco scanned the document without a single word leaving his lips.

“You’re scaring me, Draco. What do you think?”

“You have an Italian beach cottage?” he asked.

“Apparently so,” answered Y/N. “I’ve never been there, but we haven’t actually registered it through the British Ministry. If we hide your mother there, no one is going to be able to find her. She’s not required to give up information to the Order, either--I mean, we kind of hope that she will, but there’s no mandated amount of intel to keep her safe.”

“And I can…”

“Yes. After your task is straightened out, you can join her if you want.” She hardly finished her sentence before Draco’s arms pulled her into the tightest hug she’d ever been given in her life.

“I can’t believe you did that,” he mumbled, his voice strained. “How did you...wow. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Her voice was muffled by his shoulder. “I’m just glad I could help.”

He finally pulled away, still keeping his hands gently placed on her forearms. She tried to keep her thoughts from straying too much as he gazed down at her, a slightly sad downturn in his lips. The way he was looking at her began to make her even more nervous.

“Well, it’s getting late,” she stated. “I want to get up early tomorrow so I’m not too late to Potions. Are you feeling better?”

Draco cleared his throat. “Er, yes. I suppose so. Thanks again, Y/N. I’m assuming this is when you kick me out?”

“Don’t say it like that.” She spelled her blanket clean from under him and stepped back into her room, turning to face him. “I’m just tired. That’s all. I’m glad you felt like you could come to me.”

He sent her a small smile before swinging his legs over the windowsill and making his way to the door. “I hope you have a good night. Sleep well.” He went in for another hug, but this time Y/N accidentally leaned the same direction as him, nearly crashing her lips into his.

“Shit, sorry,” she murmured as she quickly corrected herself to lean the other way--and was horrified to find that he had done the exact thing as well, barely dodging him this time and instead reeling herself back as far as his hold on her allowed. Draco let out a nervous laugh, letting her go and stepping away, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well. That was poorly timed considering the conversation we had,” he pointed out. What stellar observational skills.

“Er, yeah. Well…” Y/N held her hand out and immediately felt herself cringe. “Here’s to being good friends.”

He took her hand in his and tentatively shook it, a sort of half-smirk dancing on his lips as his eyebrow raised. “To being good friends. I’ll see you later.”

Then he was gone, and Y/N was able to flop back on her bed and frantically sort through her thoughts in peace. He’d almost--no, she’d almost--well, they both had almost kissed. As friends, though. Obviously.

This is ridiculous. She pulled a blanket up around her and immediately froze when she breathed in--black tea and sage, just as she remembered. She decided it was high time to switch her blankets anyways and tossed that one in the laundry bin.

“And then guess what she said?”

“Come on, we’re waiting,” Y/N said to Ron as they chattered over their cauldron in Potions together, flanked by the rest of her Gryffindor friends.

“Lavender said I’m obviously pining after Hermione because I keep asking her to study with me.”

“No!” came from Neville after a theatrical gasp. “She did not.”

“She literally did, mate,” Harry cut in. “I saw it myself. Honestly, I think she might be onto something. I’ve always sensed some sort of tension between you two.”

“I think Harry’s right, as much as it pains me to say it,” she teased, giving her friend a little shove. Seamus had just opened his mouth to start talking when the sound of shattering glass prompted them all to whip around to face the Slytherin section. Draco Malfoy stood awkwardly clutching the broken remains of a glass vial in his hand like he was still in disbelief over what had occurred.

“Malfoy, boy, is everything alright over there?” Slughorn asked from the front.

“Yes,” he said quickly, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks. “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t know what happened.”

“You should sleep more,” the professor continued. “It’s harder to control your magic when you’re young and exhausted.”

Draco just nodded, his gaze turning over to meet Y/N’s worried one. She tilted her head, mouthing, “Are you okay?”. He sent her a tight smile and nodded, though Pansy sent her a very dirty look.

“So that was weird,” said Y/N, turning back around to face Harry. “I haven’t broken glass by losing control of my magic since I was a kid.”

“One time I let a snake out in a muggle zoo,” said Harry, his eyes miles away as he traveled down memory lane.

“You what now?”

“I can’t believe I never told you that.”

“I think I would’ve remembered that. What’d you do, whisper in its ear about how the only thing it has to lose is its chains or something until he was motivated enough to escape?”

Harry laughed. “No. I vanished the glass. And then it thanked me, which was horribly alarming for a kid who had no idea what magic was.”

“You poor, poor thing,” she mocked before Slughorn dismissed them and they began to make their way together down the hall. “Suffering from success.”

Harry chuckled, and Y/N felt a surge of affection for the fact that they were friends once again. “Basically the story of my life. Anyways, I’m off to see Snape.”

“Merlin, are you okay?” asked Y/N, holding her hand to his forehead and miming the motion of checking for a fever. “On your own time?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s alright,” he said, suddenly looking more somber. “I’m just serving detention for what happened in the bathroom. I am still very sorry about that, you know. If you wanted to curse me to get back at me, I’d understand.”

She shoved him forward, a smile dancing on her lips as she said, “Go on, suffer for my honor.” Then she felt a hand pull her back into an empty, dark classroom.

“Let go of me!” she exclaimed, twisting around to try and see the person who had grabbed her.

“Boo,” whispered a familiar voice in her ear.

“Draco, you do realize you could just talk to me in the halls like a normal goddamn person,” she chided, finally being released from his grip so she could give him a stern look. He only shrugged, a slightly impish look displayed across his features.

“But it’s more fun this way.”

She tried her hardest to frown at him, but it was honestly difficult when he was smiling at her the way he was. “So, what’s up? Did something happen?”

“Nothing really,” he admitted. “I just know that we both have free periods. Do you want to spend it together?”

Friends, friends, friends, friends, friends Y/N chanted in her head. He’s only saying this as a platonic thing.

“I guess I don’t really have anything better to do,” she teased. Despite her light hearted tone, she couldn’t help but notice the shift in Draco’s behavior. In a matter of days, he was looking more like himself than he had all year--the color finding its way back into his cheeks, the corners of his eyes crinkling up when he smiled, the food on his plate in the Great Hall actually being eaten.

If there was one thing that Y/N was quickly learning about Draco, it was that under all of his snobbery, he was endearingly weird. He’d memorized all of the captains of the Slytherin Quidditch team, read everything there was in the library about alchemy, and always sent her the dorkiest fucking waves whenever their eyes met.

So, in spirit of Draco’s newly recovered persona, Y/N spent the rest of her free period sitting in the empty classroom and chatting with him about a whole load of nothing. They’d both sat on top of adjacent desks, and sometimes Y/N would swing her feet so she kicked his shin. He’d always promptly return the favor.

“So,” she said after a while, “Have you been thinking about what I told you? My family’s plan, and all?”

He was quiet for a few seconds, his gaze cast down to his hands. “A little. I guess I’m just a little confused about what I should do with my task or when all of this is going to happen.”

“I’m only asking because I’ve been thinking about it,” confessed Y/N. “I think I’ve figured out what you should do with your task. If you want to, that is.”

“I’m listening.”

“We’ve already established that You-Know-Who has nothing to hold over your head without your mother at stake,” began Y/N, searching his face to find agreement, “But it’s going to look suspicious if you suddenly stop sending progress reports.”

Draco reached his hand up to scratch his cheek. “One problem, though. I don’t think I’ll be able to repair the cabinet. I’ve hit a complete dead end anyways.”

“That’s fine,” said Y/N. “That doesn’t matter. Fake the progress reports. I don’t think that you should fix it at all, to be honest. I think you should leave it broken and still invite Bellatrix and her friends to travel through it.”

“And kill them?!”

“Or maim them,” offered Y/N. “I know it’s not ideal, but I think that if I tweaked the cabinet’s lunar belt just right, I might be able to control how the space-time continuum is warped and simply incapacitate them so the Order can take them into custody. Of course, the dark magic as an element may throw a curveball, but it’s worth a shot. And if you do this, it’ll mean that the Order will trust you more.”

“Hm.” Draco caught his bottom lip on his teeth while he shut his eyes, obviously stewing over everything. “That’s quite the risk.”

“I can run it by my family to get their thoughts on it,” she offered. “But the only caveat is that I have to mention what you’re trying to do.”

His eyes shot open. “Maybe don’t mention the part where I’ve already made more than one attempt on the headmaster’s life if we end up going down that route.”

Y/N shrugged. “The Order might already know. Isn’t Snape onto you?”

“He’s not ‘onto me’, he was instructed to help--” Draco stopped in his tracks as he stared at her. “Wait, what?”

“Oh,” she said, both of them frozen as they realized what they’d revealed to each other. “Erm...forget I mentioned that.”

“Yeah, probably a good idea,” he mumbled, sending a half-hearted kick at her. “Let’s change the subject.”

“Love it,” she said absentmindedly. “Anyways, will you go to Slug’s Valentine party with me next weekend? As friends, of course. He wants all of us to bring dates and I don’t know who else to ask.”

Draco looked like he was glowing. “Really? You wouldn’t bring Potter?”

“Eh,” she responded. “I’m pretty sure he’s going with Ginny. Plus, I see him around the common room enough as it is.” Y/N waited a few moments. “So? Are you in?”

He shook himself out of what looked to be a weirdly stupified state. “Er, of course. Just let me know when you need me.”

The Hogwarts bells began to chime outside, signifying that the third period block was beginning.

“Saturday at 8,” said Y/N, turning to leave. “You can meet me in front of the Great Hall.”

“I’ll just walk you from your dorm.”

“Then you have to be there earlier.”

Draco shrugged. “I don’t mind. Anyways, I’m off to Runes. Enjoy Divination.” He bumped her shoulder as he walked past, sending a thrill through Y/N. How had he even known that she had Divination? That was one of the few classes they didn’t share, and she probably just mentioned it in passing once.

Then again, they were friends. And just because Ron and Hermione hadn’t memorized her schedule, it didn’t mean that Draco was the same kind of friend.

Things only got more confusing as time went on. Draco found any excuse to talk to her, especially when she was with Harry. If he were any other boy, Y/N would’ve immediately assumed the obvious: that he had a crush on her and was jealous. But, obviously, that was impossible. He’d told her upfront that he didn’t have any feelings for her. So why was his behavior so different after that night they spent together on the roof?

It got even weirder on Friday. Draco once again pulled her away from a conversation with Harry to shove a little box in her hands.

“What’s this, Draco?” she asked, frowning as she turned it around in her hand.

“It’s just something I thought you might like,” he muttered, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. Her interest piqued, Y/N opened the box.

“A quidditch bracelet?” Y/N gulped as she looked down at the enchanted diamonds, each glittering with a gentle silver pigment--as well as a slight lavender purple sheen. This was not a normal gift to give to your school friend. This was at least a few thousand galleons--probably even more, considering the enchantments that made the stones glow. Even her considerably wealthy family wouldn’t buy her one because of her horrid track record with jewelry.

He shrugged. “I picked it up while I was at Barnaby’s a bit ago. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want. I remembered I had it when you asked me to Slug’s party and I thought I’d see if you’d be interested.”

“Erm,” said Y/N, stammering, “I’ve never gotten a gift like this from someone before.”

“Believable.” Draco snorted. “Take it and do me a favor. It’s not like I’d wear it. It might as well be appreciated by someone.”

“It’s beautiful, it really is. I’m just worried because I have a bit of a habit of forgetting I’m wearing jewelry and breaking it….”

“I assumed. That’s why I charmed it to be unbreakable,” said Draco quickly. “If you don’t want to wear it, I won’t be offended. I’m just offering.”

Y/N couldn’t help but be thankful that the abandoned classroom he’d pulled her into was dark. Otherwise, he might’ve seen how red her cheeks were. “I guess we’ll figure out how strong your unbreaking enchantments are shortly.”

“Is this your way of saying yes?”

“Help me put it on, will you?”

She could see dimples form in his cheeks as he allowed a small, close lipped smile to spread across his face while he unclasped the bracelet from the box and gently turned her arm so her palm faced up to the sky. His touch lingered over her skin for a few seconds. Y/N had to remind herself to breathe.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said, his voice suddenly low, “About what we talked about last time we were here. About the cabinet, and the Order…”

“Yeah?”

“I think I want to do it,” he said firmly, finally pulling his hands away from her arm and tossing the empty wrapping into his pocket. “Just tell me what you need from me.”

“Nothing yet, really. Just your consent to tell my family about your task. I’ll let you know if they want anything else.” Though Y/N’s response was truthful and concise, her mind was elsewhere as she came to a depressing realization. He wasn’t giving her the quidditch bracelet because he secretly liked her and wanted to spoil her or whatever. He was doing it as a thank you for what she was doing for him and his mother. An elaborate gift for an even more elaborate favor.

“That’s easy enough,” Draco mused. “In the meantime, I’ll keep sending progress reports.”

“Good plan,” said Y/N, her voice a little deflated. “Thank you again for the bracelet. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She left the classroom and spent the rest of her night stewing over the poor decisions she’d made regarding her emotions over the past week. She knew about the effect that Draco had over her, yet she still invited him to Slug’s party like an idiot. And then she’d let herself get her hopes up over dumb little things like the way he looked at her in class or the quidditch bracelet when he was really just being a friend trying to pay her back for a big favor.

Saturday night was going to be rough if she couldn’t get her feelings in line.

At 7:50 sharp, Y/N waited by the portrait of the Fat Lady. Peeves wailed above her as she tried to practice slow breathing--in for 5 seconds, out for 5 seconds. I am in control of my feelings. I control my own reality.

Then she saw him, and all of the work she’d done trying to quell the butterflies in her stomach at the thought of him amounted to nothing. He looked breathtaking. Y/N bit her tongue as she tried to violently beat back the thoughts of all the things she wanted him to do to her.

“You look nice,” he said smoothly once he was close enough for it to be socially acceptable. Her mouth went completely dry as she drank in the sight of him in an all-black suit.

“Thanks. So do you.” She internally congratulated herself for getting through that without stumbling over her words too much. Gingerly, she pushed herself off her position of leaning on the wall and began to walk alongside him.

As they ascended the steps, her heel teetered. She reached for Draco’s hand in a moment of sheer panic--and, surprisingly, he latched onto her and held her up.

“Didn’t your parents ever tell you to not wear shoes you couldn’t walk in?” he said, amused. He didn’t move to let go of her hand.

“Don’t be rude, Malfoy,” she fired back.

“You’re not wearing it,” he noted. His lips slightly turned into a frown as he cast his eyes downwards.

Y/N stared at him, her mind barely functioning at this point. “What?”

“The bracelet,” he said, letting go of her hand to motion to her wrist.

“Oh,” she responded lamely. In truth, she’d tossed it into his quill box while she was in the throes of self-pity over the whole ordeal of unrequited feelings, but she could hardly tell him that. “I took it off to shower and it took too long to put back on.”

“You know, you could’ve just asked me to help again,” he said with a teasing lilt. “I’d only judge you a little.”

She smiled, grateful he wasn’t pushing it any further. “Ever the gentleman. I’ll keep that in mind next time.”

They made it to the fifth floor in no time. Slughorn only seemed slightly concerned with the presence of Draco, but he didn’t say anything to Y/N. As she expected, Hermione and Ron gave her a little bit of side-eye once they saw her choice of a date, but neither of them brought it up and even spoke to her for a little--though they never verbally acknowledged Malfoy. While she was constantly overanalyzing the little things that Draco was doing--the way he offered her a sip of his drink when she spaced out on the way his hands looked holding it for too long, the way he was always touching her in some way, whether it be a hand on her lower back or a lingering grip on her waist--she couldn’t help but feel overcome with the relief that her friends seemed somewhat accepting of her new friendship with Draco.

Then Harry opened his mouth.

“Malfoy,” he greeted through gritted teeth.

“Potter.”

Ginny met her slightly panicked gaze with one of her own. To her surprise, though, Harry just flicked his gaze to where Draco’s hand was lightly poised on her waist, raising an eyebrow. “Congratulations for finally being honest with her. I always thought Y/N deserved a bloke who outright admitted his feelings. I never thought I’d say this, but maybe that is you after all.”

Draco’s hand immediately dropped. “Do me a favor and bugger off.”

“Or maybe I’m wrong,” replied Harry, looking Draco up and down with possibly the pettiest look she’d ever seen on a wizard before. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”

“That was weird,” said Y/N, though she secretly revelled in the fact that Harry was picking up on something too.

“I suppose.” Draco slid off one of his rings, running his fingertips over the ridges of his family crest.

“Hey, are you okay?” asked Y/N, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He nodded. “I’m fine. Sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve just never really been a party person.”

“I imagine it’s probably not helping that Harry’s here,” she said, giving his arm a little squeeze before releasing him. “Do you want to just get out of here? I think we’ve been here for long enough to justify ditching.” His grateful smile told her everything. “I had a feeling. Where do you want to go?”

He pondered this for a bit. “I’m not sure. Anywhere but here.”

“Anywhere but here” quickly turned into his dorm as they wordlessly made their way down to the dungeons, passing by Marvin the raven outside Snape’s stores. Y/N’s pulse sped up every time their hands brushed--which seemed to happen far, far too often for it to be accidental on either of their ends.

“I can’t believe you broke in there,” he said finally, chuckling as the raven cooed at her appreciatively. “And just for me? I’m flattered.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t mention it,” grumbled Y/N. Obviously she’d done it just for him--she was hopelessly obsessed with him. He knew that. She found herself profoundly grateful that she’d been under the influence of Veritaserum that time instead of now--if she’d had so much as a drop of truth serum, she’d spend the entire night telling him how much she wanted him. “Anyways, I’m sorry for how weird Harry was back there. I don’t get why he feels the need to make assumptions about everything.”

Draco hummed, tapping his fingers on her wrist. Just friends, just friends, you’re just friends. Merlin fucking damnit, why did he have such nice hands? “I don’t know. He was certainly sure about it.”

“And I have no clue why,” Y/N said, pretending like she was in disbelief instead of acute pain. “I know you don’t see me like that. I’m not really sure where he’s getting that from.”

“Oh?” Draco let his hand fall, a weird tone coming over his voice. “You aren’t?”

“Well, I remember what you said,” she said matter-of-factly, trying her hardest not to read into the way he was staring at her, watching every fidget of her hands. “It’s not like I’d be self-loathing enough to expect anything different.”

He let out a huff of frustration. “Y/L/N, honestly. I sent you a box of special Wurgie’s lavender chocolates on Valentine’s day. I spend all of my free periods talking to you.”

“Ok?” Y/N couldn’t help but be taken aback by how argumentative his tone was becoming. “I suppose I see how Harry could read into that. But I have to spend my free periods with someone, right? And sometimes I get my friends chocolate on Valentine’s day too.”

“I bought you a whole enchanted quidditch bracelet. It’s the only one of its kind,” he snipped, obviously becoming more agitated. “I spent an entire day trying to find the right unbreaking spell. My father literally wrote to me from Azkaban to ask me why the Gringotts bank statement recorded me taking out that many galleons at once. He thought someone had broken into our account.”

“He doesn’t know that.” Y/N was becoming keenly aware of how close he was standing to her now that they’d stopped walking, her back a few inches from the wall as he leaned into her space. “Even if I had worn it out, there’s no way he could’ve known it was from you.”

“That’s not what I’m--” he began waspishly before clearing his throat and collecting himself. “I’m just saying, those things aren’t exactly platonic.”

“Okay,” said Y/N slowly, trying to turn her thoughts away from how soft his lips looked, “I’ll concede that some things that we do can be read as something more than friendship. But I know how you feel. You told me.”

He wet his lips. “Do you actually think I care about whatever goes in that dim brain of his?”

“Normally, no. But considering the fact that we just had an argument over it, then maybe I’m incorrect in assuming.”

“Well, I don’t,” he said, his voice suddenly quiet. He was close enough that she could smell the traces of that expensive cologne he always wore that reminded her of loose leaf lapsang souchong and fresh parchment. “And I was never trying to argue with you about his perception. I was talking about my actual intentions.”

“What?” Y/N choked out as she tentatively glanced up to see his jaw set. Her heart was pounding so hard it must’ve been audible. What the hell was he talking about?

Instead of answering, Draco gently reached up to her shoulders, walking her back until she was pinned up against the wall. His other hand came to tilt her chin so their eyes met. She would’ve been deceived into thinking he was confident by his unwavering stare, but she’d felt how his hands were slightly unstable. “Merlin, are you going to make me spell it out for you? How many different ways am I going to need to tell you?”

In the end, she wasn’t quite sure who it was who closed the gap--just that, at some point, one of them did, and that she was all of a sudden kissing Draco Malfoy with a fervor that she didn’t know she had in her. His mouth was hot against hers as he pressed her up further into the wall, his knee rising between her thighs to prop her up.

In the recesses of the back of her mind, it vaguely registered that this didn’t add up with what he told her the last night they spent together--but she decided to brush all those concerns off to the nebulous concept of later when his hands tangled into her hair.

The sound of footsteps and students giggling echoed down the corridor, making the pair jump apart. Y/N wiped her lips, trying to fix the smear of her lipstick as Draco frantically straightened out his tie that she’d tugged loose. No matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t make herself meet his eyes.

“Do you still want to go back to my dorm?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

She dared to look up at him, not expecting the sight of his pupils blown out and his cheeks slightly rosy. “If that’s okay, yeah.”

Neither of them attempted to make conversation as he led her through the empty Slytherin common room. She could feel her heart crawling into her throat. She’d never gone to a boy’s dorm before other than during the Veritaserum incident--sure, she’d kissed some boys before, she’d even gone to the Yule Ball with a cute Beauxbatons boy--but she didn’t know how this worked. Was she supposed to immediately start kissing him the moment his bedroom door was closed? Was she supposed to be kissing him now? Was she supposed to be kissing him at all after that?

They made it into his bedroom before Y/N could come to a decision on her next action, so she decided to just not make any moves. Fuck, that was almost worse. Where would she sit? At his desk? No, who the fuck does that? Next to him on his bed? No, too suggestive. Just stand by the door? Merlin, no. She wished that the ground would just open up and swallow her whole so she could sit back in her dorm and think about the way he’d kissed her in private.

“So,” said Draco.

“So,” echoed Y/N, finally giving in and sinking down onto the bed next to him.

“So, I take it that you still like me?” A small smirk danced on his lips.

Her cheeks blushed into a furious red. “Draco, please don’t make this any more embarrassing than it has to be.”

“What are you...huh?” He shifted so he was on his side, propping up his chin with his palm as he studied her with agonizing attention. “Why would it be embarrassing when I was the one who kissed you?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe the fact that this isn’t the first time? And the fact that I’m waiting for you to tell me you didn’t mean it again?”

“You think I didn’t mean that?” Draco’s eyebrows raised. “Do I need to do it again to get it through that thick skull of yours?”

“I--what--don’t be rude,” she stuttered.

He rolled his eyes but didn’t lose the upturn of his lips. “I guess so. I suppose I was planning on it anyway.”

All her nervousness melted away as Draco edged closer, the coolness of his rings pressing pleasantly into her neck. Instead of kissing her immediately like she expected, he traced the outline of her neck up to her ear where he wound his fingers into her hair, finally leaning in so their lips met.

His skin was soft against hers as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss and pulling her into his lap, his fingers spanning the width of her waist and twisting in the satiny fabric of her dress. When she was out of breath and the pillow she was next to was beginning to get pushed dangerously close to the edge, she finally broke the kiss.

“Can’t you just tell me how you feel with your words?” she prompted.

“Isn’t it obvious?” said Draco.

“I thought it was obvious last time.”

“Well, it was. That was before I knew that I was relieved of my task,” he explained, his grip around her waist tightening to tug her ever closer.

“Why would that matter?”

“Because,” he began, a slightly exasperated look in his eye, “If I had my task and my mother was still at stake, I would’ve had to go back home over the summer. And You-Know-Who would see you in my memories. Plus, I think that being a full-time Death Eater makes it very difficult to be a good boyfriend to someone who’s best friends with Harry Potter. That would complicate things. I knew that if I told you I felt the same way I wouldn’t be able to say no to you.”

“So…” She swallowed. “Does this mean that you’ve liked me all along? Like, from the start?”

“What do you think?” he drawled, his fingers ghosting over the zipper of her dress. “Do you think I just go around kissing random girls in my bed?”

“Well, what about Pansy?”

“Yeah, actually, what about her?” he asked, a little glimmer appearing in his eye. “We haven’t been together since, what, the middle of 5th year? I talk to her as much as I talk to any of my other Slytherin friends. I don’t know what’s got you so up in arms over her.”

“She obviously isn’t over you,” Y/N pointed out. “I just know it.”

“And? I’m over her.” He gave her a knowing look. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

“I didn’t know!” she exclaimed. “I thought that maybe there was something. It’s not like I’m keenly aware of the Slytherin social going-ons.”

“Sheesh, so defensive,” he tutted, his thumbs now rubbing circles into her shoulders. “It’s almost like you like me or something.”

“Draco!” She swatted at him, but he caught her hand in midair and kissed each of her knuckles, giving her an almost sheepish look. It was all she could do to keep her laughs from getting too loud as he dropped her hand and swept towards her again, kissing her fully.

Before she knew it, they were rolled over so he was on top of her, hovering over her with his elbows supporting his weight as he pressed warm, open-mouthed kisses along the bare curve of her neck. She closed her eyes and let a soft sigh escape her as his lips drags across the spot under her ear, pushing up further into him.

“You liked that, huh?” He looked far too pleased with himself.

“Shut up,” she said, reaching up to thread her fingers lightly through his hair. It was just as soft as she imagined it to be. Something possessed her to wind her fingers through the locks on the back of his neck and close them into a fist, awarding her with a sharp intake of air from Draco. “You liked that, huh?” she mocked.

He rolled his eyes, muttering a “fucking hell” so quietly that she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to hear it. Despite the exasperation in his tone, his mouth was still fixed in an upturn as he looked down at her, his eyes soft. She couldn’t help but move up to kiss him again, and again, and again, until her lungs were screaming for air and her neck was cramping from the angle.

She let her head fall back onto his down comforter, taking in the sight of Draco with swollen, well-kissed lips.

“What?” He tilted his head as he regarded her.

“I just love you like this,” she said shyly. “Oh, Merlin, wait, I didn’t mean it like…”

Draco let out a chuckle. “It’s okay. I know what you meant. I love you like this, too. You’re not as difficult.” He rolled off of her, taking a moment to shed his dress coat and pull off his tie.

When he was close enough again, she rewarded his tolerance with a smile and a delicate, nervous kiss on his collarbone, dragging her teeth over his skin for just a moment. The hand that was placed on her back scrunched up the material of her dress as Draco’s breath caught.

“Your hands are bloody cold,” he complained as her fingers wound themselves under his dress shirt, exploring the new expanse of exposed alabaster skin.

“Do you want me to stop?” she asked, pulling away and letting go for just a second before he grabbed her wrists together and hauled her back.

“No.”

“I’ve never…”

“That’s okay,” he said as she settled back onto his lap, reveling in the soft way that he was treating the skin that was exposed by her dress. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want.”

“I’m just scared,” she suddenly choked out. Where did that come from? “I want you, now, but I don’t want to wake up tomorrow to you telling me that you can’t do this or that you didn’t like it or…” She trailed off, distracted by the way he firmly tapped the outer edge of her thigh.

“I’m not going to do that to you,” he said. “I promise. I made that mistake once. Plus, the burden of the performance is kind of on me anyways, so there’s nothing to be nervous about if that’s a hold up.”

She snorted. “Don’t make me change my mind, Malfoy.”

Despite her words, the corners of his eyes crinkled. “I mean it. If you want to just lie there that’s fine. As long as you enjoy it, it’ll be great for me.” His hand came up to gingerly brush away the pieces of hair that had fallen in her face before dropping to gently toy with the top of her zipper again--a question. Wordlessly, she allowed herself to be helped out of the garment, letting it fall to the ground before turning back to attack the buttons on Draco’s chest. He made an amused sound as she struggled, eventually unsheathing his wand and opening it up in a second.

“I could’ve done that, you know,” she said rather defensively.

“Yes, yes, I know,” he said, hardly masking his teasing tone. “You’re very capable. Now come here.”

And so she did.

The idea of sex had always been scary to Y/N. Someone, especially someone attractive enough for her to want to sleep with him, seeing her fully exposed made her want to freeze up and dive under her blankets. But that was before Draco. Somewhere, hidden deep in the back of her brain, lay an anxious switch that flicked off as soon as she was pinned under him with his knee pushing up to part her legs. She no longer felt like she had to be self-conscious--despite how intimidated she was by him, she’d never felt more adored.

Y/N learned three surprising things about Draco in the span of that night: one, that in some places his skin felt like crushed velvet under her fingers; two, that he melted in her hands when she pressed her lips to the sensitive spot on his neck; and three, that he had a freckle under his jaw. And on his left shoulder. And at the spot where his thigh met his torso.

“What are you thinking about?” he murmured to her after they’d slumped together, his duvet haphazardly flung over their bodies while his fingers traced patterns on her back.

“I’m just so glad you feel the same way,” she admitted. “I thought I was going crazy over your actions not lining up with your words. It was driving me insane.”

Draco let out a little laugh. “I thought it was painfully obvious.”

“Remember when you tripped up the stairs that time you walked with me after detention?”

“Remember when you tripped up the stairs today?”

“You’re ruining this,” she said sourly as she swatted his chest.

Instead of responding, he just snatched her hand and held it hostage. “I’m not the one resorting to physical violence. Which, now that I think of it, is pretty commonplace for you.”

“Hey! If I hadn’t thrown the york pudding at Pansy, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

Draco was silent for a few moments.

“You know I’m right,” she pressed. To her surprise, he shifted uncomfortably under her.

“I’m not so sure,” he finally admitted.

“Huh?” Her features flooded with confusion. “What does that mean?”

“I mean, I’m lucky it worked out like this,” he said hesitantly. “And...so soon. You hated me.”

She sat up, pulling away from his embrace and folding her knees under her. “What are you talking about?”

“I dunno.” Draco refused to meet her eyes, his fingers instead playing with the edges of his sheets. “This is probably stupid, but do you remember the time we brewed Amortentia in Slughorn’s class?”

She nodded.

“You told me that it reminded you of a memory,” he continued, “And that you knew you had to have danced with them at some point.”

“I’m aware.” Y/N blinked down at him as she tried to piece the puzzle together.

He finally flicked his gaze up to meet her eyes. “I guess you don’t remember it, but in fourth year we danced together once. I’d never talked to you before--I knew you were friends with Potter and the like--but I just never really stopped thinking about it since.”

“This is so embarrassing,” said Y/N. “How do I not remember?”

He shrugged. “I think you were a little tipsy at the time. I did, though. I’ve never forgotten.”

“Then why were you so mean to my friends?”

“I stopped for the most part,” he pointed out. “And, if you’ll notice, it was mostly towards Harry.”

“I thought that was because he’s the Chosen One.”

“No, it’s because I could see that he liked you and I was jealous. Eventually I just gave up around 5th year, around when I started dating Pansy. I didn’t think there was a chance in hell that I was ever going to be able to be with you, especially not after getting my task.”

“Oh,” Y/N said as she mulled over this information. “My story isn't as romantic. I suppose I’ve always had a little crush on you too, but I was definitely in denial. I just always found you ridiculously attractive and tragically funny considering what you used to support.”

He glowed down at her, pressing the pad of his thumb into her cheek. “Well, I’m glad I can finally give you what you deserve.”

“Me too.”

The weeks began to pass faster after that. Draco never really struck Y/N as a PDA type of guy, but he was surprisingly affectionate. When they began to brew potions together again, he was quick to tuck away her hair behind her ear when she was looking over the cauldron and sent her sweet, private smiles that made her heart flutter. He even sat with her every once in a while at the Gryffindor table when the trio was busy doing whatever they had to do to save the world. Y/N pretended to not notice the whispers that were elicited from her peers when Draco would casually touch her.

They spent as many nights together as they could, but considering how often her friends were giving her dirty looks for stumbling into Potions after not being seen in the Gryffindor Tower for the past day, they had to be reasonable, cutting it down to three or four nights a week.

Y/N treasured every moment she had with Draco, even when they were fleeting and in between classes. She learned everything she could about him--how he was actually terrified of snakes, how he preferred his tea black, how he had an elaborate morning routine he hardly ever deviated from--and committed it all to mind. Her favorite version of him in her head was the way he looked when he was between her sheets, fast asleep with his arms draped over her. Whenever she woke up before him, she tried to memorize it.

He was absolutely ridiculous with the kind of gifts he gave her. Y/N swore that one day she’d wake up to find that he’d bought the British crown jewels because he “saw them” and “just thought of her”. She now had enough Barnaby’s quills to rival the number of feathers on the country’s entire population of geese, but instead of feeling overwhelmed with gratitude, all Y/N could feel was the impending doom that, one day, those gifts would be the only thing she had left of him. He seemed to know this, too.

Draco always found some kind of reason to pull her away and kiss her senseless, whether it be behind a tapestry or in a broom closet when Filch heard them walking around the castle after curfew. In a way, it was like they were just normal teenagers, enjoying the thrill of the moment and acting out. When she thought of it like that, it made the inevitable events seem more bearable; at least they had some time together.

The letter came with no more context than just a simple “Tomorrow.” Y/N knew exactly what it meant--Narcissa Malfoy was going to finally be taken from the manor. Bellatrix needed to be convinced over the next 24 hours to enter the Borgin & Burke’s Vanishing Cabinet as a distraction, and Y/N needed to be sure of her work on the cabinet.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been here,” Y/N mused absentmindedly as she sat in front of the cabinet. Draco’s head rested on her shoulder after recounting all of the changes he’d made. “That was clever, switching out the conductor clasp with a copper fitting.”

He smiled, pressing a kiss into her shoulder. “I’m not totally daft, you know.”

“Of course I know,” she said, her voice dropping into a soft murmur. Fingers pressed into the soft flesh of her thigh as he pulled her onto him. “Draco, I have to fix this first. Then we can do whatever you’d like.”

“Hm,” was all he said, burying his face in her neck once again and letting out a deep sigh.

“Are you worried?”

He was still for a few moments before dipping his head slightly in a nod.

“You’ll be okay,” she promised, winding his fingers through hers. “I’ll make sure of that.”

“I should be comforting you, not the other way around,” he said softly. “I dragged you into this.”

“I pushed myself into this,” she corrected. “And, plus, it’s not my mother on the line. It’s okay to care, you know.”

Y/N got up, making her way towards the cabinet and meeting his eyes once. They shared a knowing glance as she brandished her wand and whispered a quick fracturing spell, sending cracks down the eastern side of the lunar belt. Her hand shook as she shrank back onto the couch until his arms found her shoulders and turned her towards him. “I can’t believe I just...I just did that.”

Instead of responding, he simply sat up straight and delicately pressed his lips to her forehead, his hand coming around to cradle her for just a moment. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Out of here” once again turned into Draco’s dorm room.

“I can’t believe this will all be over tomorrow,” Draco said, his back turned as he loosened his Slytherin tie. “I’m going to be gone by Sunday morning.”

“Yeah.” Y/N tried not to let the lump in her throat garner too much attention at the thought of losing Draco into what was essentially the Order’s witness protection program.

He seemed to notice her uncharacteristic silence, frowning at his reflection before making his way towards her and diligently pressing kisses on her cheeks. Instead of grabbing onto his sleeve cuffs and pulling him closer like she usually did, she just let out a tiny sigh and kept her eyes fixed on the tie slung over his shoulder.

“Hey,” he murmured, moving so she had to look at him.

“Hey.” She sent him a watery smile, hoping that he couldn’t see how close she was to tears.

“What’s wrong?”

Y/N just shook her head, anchoring her bottom lip with her teeth so she didn’t choke up. “It’s nothing.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Don’t pull that with me. I’m not falling for that. I’m going to ask again. What’s wrong?” His hand came up to pull her chin up again so their eyes were level, his eyebrows raised in expectation.

Y/N tried to tell him; she really did. It wasn’t her fault that the most pathetic sounding sob of her life came out of her mouth instead of a confession. Instead of asking any more questions or trying to get her to talk, Draco just pulled her into his arms and held her there, letting her weep into him. His hands came up to rub her back as she struggled to breathe normally.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” he whispered, breaking the silence. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

“This isn’t about me,” said Y/N miserably. “It’s about you. What if something happens to you while we’re apart? What if I don’t get to see you again?”

Draco made a small sound in his throat, almost like he was holding back a sob himself. “Y/N, don’t worry about me, okay? It’ll all be alright, love. Don’t worry.”

Despite the fact that Draco was doing his best to comfort her, Y/N knew one thing for sure: his word couldn’t stand against fate, and if he were meant to die or disappear during the time that he was hidden away in Italy, there was nothing either of them could do about it.

She turned her head and found herself pressing her lips to his with so much desperation that she hardly even noticed the few stray tears that had made their way down her cheeks. He met her with much more tenderness, his fingers gently brushing away the wetness on her cheeks. For someone as cocky as Draco, he could be so shy when he kissed her, almost like he expected her to change her mind halfway through.

“I don’t want this to be over,” she whispered as she pulled away, leaving the slightest gap between their lips.

He cupped her face, his eyes shining. “It’s not over. We have a few hours left.”

To her horror, another strangled gasp left her lips. Draco had her tucked into his arms in an instant, his lips pressing into her hairline. “It’s not over, okay? I just don’t want to hold you back if you aren’t allowed to see me. Don’t wait around for me.”

“I don’t care,” choked out Y/N. “I’d wait forever if it meant I got to have you.”

“I know,” he murmured. “But it’s not fair of me to expect that from you. I don’t know how long this war is going to last.”

“I don’t care about fairness,” whispered Y/N. “I just want you.”

They spent the rest of the night tangled together in his sheets, just waiting for the morning to come. Neither one got any sleep. Instead, Y/N entertained herself by playing with his hands and asking him questions about his childhood--anything to keep her from remembering what was in store for both of them.

It had been decided earlier that Y/N would have no part in the cabinet plan after they ran the information by the Order. Actually, it was decided that she’d have no part in anything beyond just bringing the situation of Narcissa Malfoy to attention. “It’s crucial to your safety that you don’t connect yourself and by extension our family to this,” one of her father’s earlier letters had read. “Doing so puts you and everyone you love in jeopardy.”

That evening, just as dusk set in, she stood with Draco in her dorm for what was the last time, shaking with unshed tears. He just clung to her for the first few minutes, her head tucked under his chin as his hands were clasped around her back.

“Give me your hand,” he said finally. “I want you to have something.”

She felt something slide on her thumb, her eyes widening as she realized what it was--his family ring.

“Draco…”

“I probably shouldn’t have this on me, anyways,” he explained. “And I want you to have something of mine, something that’s really mine, not just a gift. Just...maybe don’t wear it in public, and if you do wear it as a necklace charm or something. The last thing I want is you to get connected to this--”

Y/N cut off his rambling by pressing her lips to his, his hand feeling oddly bare as it came up to touch her cheek. “If anything happens to you, I love you. I hope you know that.”

He smiled, then kissed her again--so long that it seemed like he was savoring every moment of

it before finally stepping away. “You know I love you. Always will.”

She managed to fit in one last kiss before he left.

Monday turned into Tuesday which turned into Wednesday which turned into the next week. Before she knew it, her 6th year was almost over. Neither Draco nor Narcissa had contacted her. The Order had been cagey about the details leading to the Malfoys--while she obviously had a general idea as to the location of her Italian vacation home and thus by extent the Malfoys, she hadn’t heard anything about their travels there. All she’d heard was the basic news that everyone had--that Bellatrix Lestrange had been found dead and that the Ministry had taken both Fenrir Greyback and Antonin Dolohov into custody with near fatal injuries.

But that didn’t make her miss him any less. Y/N found herself longing for the nostalgic, innocent time when she shamelessly flirted with him in detention and only worried about whether or not the Trio would like her again. It all seemed so long ago.

Falling asleep was the worst. She couldn’t smell the lavender of her diffuser or her room spray without relating it to him, couldn’t slide under her sheets without remembering how it felt to fall asleep in his arms. Around May, Y/N came to the most disturbing realization: she wasn’t entirely sure if she remembered what his voice sounded like anymore. Not in the way that meant she wouldn’t recognize it if he called out to her--she would, of course she would--but she couldn’t replicate it in her mind or replay their interactions with convincing accuracy.

Sometimes, on the nights when she couldn’t sleep at all, she envisioned her last interaction with Draco: his snow blond hair ruffled and his face grim as he turned to leave. Even though she couldn’t hear his voice quite right as he told her he loved her, she remembered the scent of his cologne against her jumper and the feeling of his skin against hers as he slipped his family ring onto her hand. It was killing her that she didn’t know exactly what happened to him. He could’ve been taken by a surviving Death Eater and held hostage at the manor. He could be dead. The papers had printed that he’d been pulled into the Vanishing Cabinet and, true to the name, completely vanished, caught in the space passageway between it and the sister cabinet. She’d known that that was the angle the Order was going to take from the start, but it did nothing to ease her anxiety.

It was even more concerning when she remembered that they’d never agreed upon anything in the future--just simply that they cared about each other in March. At that moment it had been enough. But it wasn’t anymore. All she wanted was for him to appear, give her that stupid wave he sometimes sent to her from across the dining hall when she saw him enter in the morning, and sweep her up into his arms. But that was hard to do when he was countries away.

N.E.W.Ts had been cancelled, much to the dismay of Hermione, so Y/N had even less things to distract her with. Harry was off with Dumbledore doing Merlin knows what to try and defeat Voldemort. She was left with nothing to do but wallow in her own pity.

In early June, days before Hogwarts classes were officially concluded, someone knocked on her door.

“Come in,” mumbled Y/N. While she had thankfully gotten past the habit of crying every day, she’d instead slipped into a sort of anxious paralysis, lying on her bed after all of her tasks were done.

“It’s me.” Ron’s voice made her sit up in surprise. He hadn’t really spoken to her privately since he’d brokered the peace between her and the rest of the trio. “Do you have time to chat?”

“Sure,” she responded, moving over so he had room to sit beside her. “What’s going on?”

“Lavender just broke up with me,” muttered Ron, his hand coming up to brush at something on his cheek. “And I’ve never felt this way before. Is this what it feels like for you? With Malfoy?”

Y/N met his eyes and saw the same kind of hopelessness in them, the edges pricking with tears. “Yeah. I think so.” It was hard to choke back her own sob, so she just hugged him. He smelled of caramel and spring grass.

“Not to be a prat,” he said, “But you shouldn’t waste any tears over Malfoy. I don’t care if he switched sides in the end, he’s still a snot-nosed tosser to me. When this is all over, we’re going out together so we can find you someone better.”

“You know he switched sides?” She pulled back in surprise. Ron sent her a little wink.

“Of course not. I’m not sure why I said that. I’m sure if it was true, it’d be confidential Order information.”

“Who else?”

“Just Hermione and Harry,” he replied in a low voice. “But we weren’t supposed to figure it out--it was an accident over Easter break while we were eavesdropping on an Order meeting. That doesn’t change anything, though. You could definitely do better.”

“And so could you,” she said. “Remember what I said about you and Hermione?”

He laughed. “I’m working on it.”

Her conversation with Ron shed light on something else that had baffled her as of late--the tentative rekindling of her friendship with Hermione. The witch was actually inviting her to study nowadays, making small talk with her despite steering clear of all topics regarding Malfoy and Death Eaters.

The last day of school rolled around before she was ready, the final ceremony being spoken by McGonagall instead of Dumbledore while he was still traveling with Harry. As she got up from her seat in the Great Hall, Hermione grabbed onto her sleeve.

“Let’s go for a walk, shall we?”

So, instead of walking straight up to the Gryffindor Tower on the route they’d used countless times since the beginning of their educational career, they took the scenic route along the Black Lake, away from the hordes of students. They walked the shore quietly until Hermione spoke up.

“Draco needs a tutor to cover what he missed this year.”

Y/N snapped to attention. “What?”

“Narcissa Malfoy has been requesting it and all the professors are busy with Order work,” continued Hermione, not bothering to repeat herself. “They want me to do it. When they ask, I’m going to turn them down and volunteer you instead. Is that okay?”

“Um…” Y/N stuttered. “I’m going to be a pretty shit tutor. Why would you do that for me?”

“I’m going to try and help Harry this summer,” she explained. “And even if I wasn’t, consider it my formal apology. I know it wasn’t right how I treated you this year. I don’t expect you to forgive me right away. I just hope you understand why I was hurt.”

“Of course I understand!” said Y/N, reaching out to touch her elbow. “Considering the way he treated you, I can’t blame you for feeling betrayed. I should be the one apologizing. It just...happened the way it did. I didn’t want to fall for him, but I did anyway.”

Hermione covered her hand with her own and gave it a little squeeze. “I know. Do you think we can put this all behind us? I’ve missed my best friend. Ron and Harry have been driving me crazy this term. Ron told me to tell you that you have permission to smack me if I ever say something condescending to you again.”

“Please, let’s. And I think I’d resort to throwing a nice york pudding instead…”

The familiar bittersweet feeling of looking forward to putting school behind her yet dreading leaving her friends consumed her as she filed onto the Hogwarts Express, looking back onto the castle for the last time. She didn’t know it then, but she wouldn’t be returning. At least not for a long time.

“Luna!” she exclaimed as she ran into someone trying to find her seat. The blonde Ravenclaw sent her a dreamy smile.

“You certainly look happier.” Luna tilted her head as she studied her features.

“I never got to properly thank you for this,” said Y/N, “But you absolutely saved me this year. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you in January.”

“You don’t need to thank me for being your friend,” responded Luna. “If you really want to, owl me this summer. I think I’ll miss you quite a bit.”

“I’ll miss you more.” She let her new Ravenclaw friend pull her into a hug before she finally retired to her respective seat next to Hermione, who pressed a package into her hand.

“McGonagall just gave it to me,” she whispered into her ear. “Don’t show it to anyone. I think it’s a Portkey.”

True to Hermione’s prediction, it was a familiar object from her manor--an ornate vase that was normally on display in the main foyer. A piece of parchment was rolled up inside.

Activates at 9am on the 10th of June. Closes 5 minutes after the hour. Do not be late.

Instead of feeling excited to see Draco, all she could feel was her nerves as she stared at the vase in front of her at 8:55 in the morning. It’d been so long since she’d kissed him that she wasn’t even sure if she remembered how. She literally felt as if her virginity had grown back like her leg hairs did the morning after she cast hair removal spells.

And not to mention, seeing Narcissa again--that was terrifying. She’d always been a very intimidating woman, dressed impeccably with sharp, aristocratic features much like her son. Y/N doubted she’d take kindly to her son’s tutor being more interested in him than the actual job at hand.

That assumed he even wanted her still, anyways. Maybe three months in isolation made him come to his senses and realize he’d been absolutely off his rocker for liking her in the first place. Merlin, did he regret it? Was he going to tell her they couldn’t?

Swallowing her worries as the clock chimed at 9, she wrapped her hand around the vase and allowed herself to be pulled across international borders.

The first thing she noticed was the smell. Instead of the florally pine forest that surrounded her family’s main manor, she was greeted with the scent of sea salt and the sound of cawing birds. The sun had long since risen, the temperature a pleasant warmth to her skin after she’d spent a year in the cooler English air.

Y/N stepped forward, towards the looming white structure that she assumed was her beach cottage. Her feet sunk in the sand as she made her way across the beach. Did he even know she was coming then? She would’ve thought he did, considering that anyone approaching the safe house unannounced would no doubt send everyone into some sort of a panic.

Finally, she made it to the front door, tapping her wand on the enchanted knocker to signal that someone was at the front door. It creaked, and all of a sudden she was looking into the silver eyes of Draco Malfoy. He looked less pale than he did the last time she’d seen him, like he’d actually begun to spend time in the sun instead of locked away in the Slytherin dungeons. His hair looked somewhat sunbleached. She could see the faintest beginning of unfamiliar freckles across his nose.

“Hi,” she said shyly, toying with her nails in front of her and not sure whether or not to embrace him. “I’m not sure if you knew, but your mother wanted someone to review the material you missed this year and Hermione didn’t want to, so--”

She didn’t even get to finish her sentence before he crossed through the door, swept her up, and kissed her with conviction.

“I was wondering when you’d show up,” he whispered when he pulled away. Her eyes pooled with tears as his voice re-registered in her head.

“I missed you,” Y/N managed. She let her fingers run over his cheekbones and the rest of his face and hair like she couldn’t believe he was actually there in front of her again. “I thought something had happened to you.”

“Something kind of did,” he admitted. “My aunt died.”

“So I’ve heard. Sorry about that.”

“It was her own fault. She brought a dagger enchanted with dark magic and it messed with the energy.” His smile had morphed into something more tense, so she stood on her toes to press a kiss to the corner of his lips, a bit tentative after not touching him since March.

“You were all I could think about,” she admitted. “I’m not going to be much good at teaching you anything because I honestly stopped paying attention after you left…”

Draco’s smile widened, and she felt her legs turn to jelly. “I don’t mind. You were all I could think about, too. If you ever run out of things to teach me…” His fingers ghosted along her jawline as he spoke, “...I’ve had three months with nothing better to do than to think up ways to make up for the time we’ve spent apart.”

As she basked in the warmth of his embrace and the gentle sound of the Mediterranean ocean lapping at the earth, she allowed herself to relax for the first time in months. There was a war on the horizon, her friends were in danger, and her parents were once again risking themselves to aid the Order. But she’d gotten Draco out of his task. They had at least a summer left together. And at that moment, that was enough.

“What are you thinking about?” he murmured, tugging her chin up to meet his eyes once again.

She shrugged. “Nothing. Just kiss me again.”

And so he did.

final a/n: thanks for hanging in there! i hope you guys liked it! first off, apologies if my fluff scenes are choppy or repetitive. i’m not very experienced with writing them yet. also, i decided to write draco this way last minute because i like to imagine him as someone who has never had to actually admit feelings for someone and put himself on the line--instead i think he’d try his hardest to get you to confess that you like him if he’s afraid of messing it up. also if you were confused the quidditch bracelet is supposed to be the magic equivalent of a tennis bracelet lol...when i was shopping w my mom i may have been inspired when i saw those bc literally who wears diamonds around their wrist that cost thousands of dollars every day? i asked the saleslady how much the smallest one was and she was like “only 4k and you can wear it anywhere!” like girl i work a minimum wage customer service job and that shit would break in a few seconds. no i would not wear that everywhere. tennis bracelet rant over but anyways ig i was saying that a tennis bracelet def has draco malfoy energy per se

#draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine #draco #draco malfoy #draco x you #draco malfoy x you #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x y/n #draco x oc #draco malfoy x oc

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