#and they give their fathers the stoles they used to hear their first Confessions

[incomingalbatross]

It is the place of a father's heart to teach justice and mercy. These two things.

—the priest in today's homily giving a quote on fatherhood that I needed to save

[darkestspring]

Jaces twin sister never participated in the bullying because she had a tiny crush on Aemond.

After his eye was taken Aemond made himself a promise, he would brutally fuck Lucerys beloved sister.

It was her who went to Storms End and it was her he chased down on dragon back, but she actually lands her dragon.

Aemond is brutal as he forces her against Vhagar, knowing Vhagar will protect him if her dragon chooses to try and attack him.

Jaces twin can only claw at Vhagars scales as Aemond brutally fucks her, spilling his seed deep inside of her. Forcing her to cockwarm him as he tells her why he did this and tells her to go back to her bastard baby brother Lucerys and tell him she payed his debt with her virtue.

okay i love this idea but i've spoken a lot over aegon being obsessed with his niece and kidnapping her from dragonstone but it would also fit aemond.

jaces twin was the only one who didn't tease him or taunt him for not having a dragon, she always encouraged him and was kind to him. as a child, that kindness struck him, he became obsessed with her warmth.

he wanted to keep her with him forever and he was going to convince her mother to marry his niece to him when driftmark happened.

aemond remembers her horror, remembers her clinging to her mother as she kept her eyes on him, in his eye, she cried for him. in that moment, he knew she was his. his attempts in gaining her hand from her mother failed and his father sided with rhaenyra and she left.

he swore to never forget how that felt. he swore revenge on jace and luke but he also swore to take his niece as his wife.

the opportunity presents itself when everyone is away from dragonstone and aegon sends aemond to take control of it but not everyone is gone.

in the war room, studying the painted table stood his sweet niece, victory consumed him. it was his chance to make good on his promise. he could not get to lucerys, he had escaped storm's end before aemond could chase him down but you were there, looking so concentrated.

"My sweet niece." Aemond announces his presence and takes joy in how you startle, your purple eyes connecting with his lone one, the only thing the makes you different from your bastard brothers, other than gender.

"You-You cannot do this, you cannot be here." You words try to sound strong but they give away how panicked you sound as you try to make distance between the two of you. You heart still ached with affection for him.

"What can I not do?" Aemond asked, stalking towards you with swift steps. "You were to be my bride. You were supposed to be mine!" Aemond hissed, stepping the other way as you scrambled away from him.

He tired to the running and swiftly cornered you before pushing you onto the painted table, tearing off your dress and small clothes. "I will not let you run from me. I have loved you since we were children and yet everyone seeks to separate us." He hissed, anger making its home in his bones.

"Please don't do this." You whimpered as you pushed at his chest with all the force you could muster but it did not move him at all. "Don't do this, uncle!"

"You've always been mine, from the first time you comforted me." Aemond's murmur is soft but you can still hear it. "I knew from that moment that i wanted to be your husband, your protector,"

His confession made you want to cry, it made you want to have things how they were before. One of your hands pressed against his cheek, as if you had forgotten what they felt like. "If you care for me, don't do this,"

"If I don't do this, you will be someone else's wife and I would rather you hate me for my entire life than see you with someone else."

The confession would have made your heart flutter if he wasn't about to take your virtue from you and steal you away.

Aemond knew you were too kind to hate him, even as he pushed inside you, even as your blood spilled onto the painted table and the floor. Even as he spilled his seed inside you and stole you away. Even as he took you to Harrehal and ordered the woman he had spared to clean you and care for you.

He had spared her because he knew you would need someone familiar to care for you but the moment you grew attached to her, he would kill her, he knew that. he knew it was cruel but you only needed him.

there was no note, nothing left behind but blood and your torn clothing but as your dragon wailed into the night, Rhaenyra knew who had done this.

[starogeorgina]

Violent delights

Warnings: Swearing, child death

Pairings: Jacaerys Velaryon x oc

1.08

“Get off, get off, get off, get off!”

You watch helplessly as your mother swats the midwives who are trying to help her away. She was padding barefoot on the balcony of her bedchamber, trying to ease the pain of her labor by walking. She would only allow you to get close enough to give her sips of water and dab her forehead with a wet cloth, but she refused help from anyone else.

Upon seeing Jacaerys and Lucerys entering your mother's bedchambers, you run to them. Both of them looked panicked. Luke looks at you wide-eyed and asks, “What’s going on?”

You grip both of their arms tightly. “Mother has gone into labor. The baby is coming early.”

You knew from personal experience what hell your mother was going through. When you saw your grandmother, Princess Rhaenys, flying to the dragonpit, you rushed inside to greet her while Jace and Luke remained outside training. Unfortunately, your grandmother's visit wasn’t pleasant; she brought forth trucking news that triggered your mother to go into early labor.

You lead them into the balcony, where your mother is pressing her hands against a pillar for support while hunching over. She lets out a loud groan of pain before addressing them. “Your grand sire, King Viserys, has passed.”

“V-Viserys?” Luke asks, and you squeeze his hand and nod.

“The Greens have repudiated the succession and claimed the Iron Throne. Aegon has been crowned king.”

“What is to be done about it?” Jace asks as anger radiates off him.

“Nothing yet.”

“And where is Daemon?”

“I don’t know,” your mother confesses. “Gone to madness. Gone to plot his war.”

Jacaerys grits his teeth and says, “Leave Daemon with me.”

“Jace,” your mother calls out to him as he goes to leave with Luke. “Jacaerys, whatever claim remains to me, you are now its heir. Naught is to be done but by my command.”

Jace nods, turning. He gives you a look, silently asking you to follow him, so you do. Once out of ear shot from your mother, he pulls you in for a hug. “How—do you think—the babe?”

You knew what he was trying to ask: “It’s far too early. It’s very unlikely the baby will make it.” Hearing her loud screams, you face the balcony again. “I’ll see if the maester will bring some milk of the poppy.”

You go to fetch the maester, but Jace holds onto your hand. He presses a tender kiss on your forehead. “Whatever happens…”

“I know,” you gulp down. For both of you, what followed next was blood, war, and death. After calling for the master to bring the pain relief for your mother, you go back onto the balcony to see her sitting on the ground, rocking back and forth as she brings forth another baby, screaming in pain.

“Get out.”

“You should not do this alone, Princess.”

“Let us help you.”

She waved at them to stay away while crying in agony. You wanted to go to her but didn’t want to go against her wishes. You stood close by as she birthed a baby that wasn’t breathing. A girl. Your mother picks her up and cradles her in her arms, close to her chest.

You go to her and kiss the side of her head. “You’re sweet, Visenya.”

“She was my daughter, and they killed her. They stole my crown and murdered my daughter, and they shall answer for it.”

—

You stand in silence during the funeral for your sister, who was born too early. You only turn back when a knight approaches, Erryk Cargyll. “I mean no harm, brothers.” He pulls the crown that once belonged to your grandsire out of his bag and kneels. “I swear to ward the Queen... with all my strength... and give my blood for hers. I shall take no wife... hold no land... father, no children. I shall guard her secrets. obey her commands. ride at her side, and defend her name and honor.”

Daemon takes the crown from the knight and places it on your mother's head. “Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.”

One by one, everyone bends the knee for their new and rightful queen, Rhaenyra Targaryen.

—

You arrive at the meeting of the Queen's Council just as your mother and Daemon were exiting the room. Your mother had granted you leave when your son's wet nurse told you he was struggling to latch on; thankfully, you were able to feed him yourself. “Daemon, what’s going on?”

“That cunt Otto Hightower is approaching Dragonstone on a ship flying a banner of a three-headed green dragon.”

Frowning, you spin on your heels and walk beside him, earning a slight grin. “This is Alicent’s doing. Aegon is nothing but a drunken fool with no desires other than to lay with whores. Whatever has transpired, Otto and Alicent are behind it.”

You stand beside your stepfather on the bridge as Otto has the audacity to walk towards you with a smug look on his face. “I come at the behest of the Dowager Queen Alicent, mother of King Aegon, Second of His Name, Lord and Protector of the Seven Kingdoms. I’ve been directed to deliver her message only to Princess Rhaenyra. Where is the princess?”

“Queen Rhaenyra,” you correct.

Syrax screeches as she lands on the bridge behind you, letting out a loud roar as your mother climbs down off of her.

Otto smirks, “Princess Rhaenyra.”

“I’m Queen Rhaenyra now. And you all are traitors to the realm.”

“King Aegon Targaryen, Second of His Name, in his wisdom and desire for peace, is offering terms. Acknowledge Aegon as king and swear obeisance before the Iron Throne. In exchange, His Grace will confirm your possession of dragonstone. It will pass to your true-born son, Jacaerys, upon your death. Lucerys will be confirmed as the legitimate heir to Driftmark and all the lands and holdings of House Velaryon. Your sons by Prince Daemon will also be given places of high honor at court: Aegon the Younger as the King’s squire, and Viserys as his cupbearer. Finally, the King, in his good grace, will pardon any knight or lord who conspired against his ascent.”

Daemon clicked his tongue and said, “I would rather feed my sons to the dragons than have them carry shields and cups for your drunken, usurper cunt of a king.”

"Aegon Targaryen sits on the Iron Throne. He wears the conqueror’s crown, wields the conqueror’s sword, and has the conqueror’s name. He was anointed by a septon of the faith before the eyes of thousands. Every symbol of legitimacy belongs to him. And then there are Stark, Tully, and Baratheon. Houses that have also received and are at present considering generous terms from their king.”

“Stark, Tully, and Baratheon all swore to me when King Viserys named me his heir,” your mother reminds him.

“Stale oaths will not put you on the Iron Throne, Princess. The succession changed the day your father had a son. I only regret that you and he were the last to see the truth about it.”

Otto jumps as Viserion swoops down over him, and the men that stand behind him let out a loud screech as he does. For the first time since arriving, you see fear in Otto’s eyes. “Refer to my mother as princess again, and you’ll answer to my dragon.”

Daemon chuckles at your words.

“You are no more a hand than Aegon is king. Fucking traitor,” your mother snatches the hand of the king pin from Otto and tosses it off the bridge.

He takes an old scroll from the maester and hands it to your mother. “Queen Alicent has not forgotten the love you once had for each other. No blood needs to be spilled, so the realm can carry on in peace. Queen Alicent eagerly awaits your answer.”

“She can have her answer now, stuffed in her father’s mouth along with his withered cock. Let’s end this mother’s farce. Ser Erryk, bring me Lord High Tower so I may take pleasure myself,” Daemon orders.

“No,” Syrax screeches again as your mother puts her arm out to stop the knight from stepping forward. “King’s Landing will have my answer tomorrow.”

When you turn to walk away, Otto says, “Oh, and one more thing, Princess Lyarra, King Aegon has asked me to pass on that he awaits the arrival of his daughter at king's landing; in fact, Aemma can leave with me right now.”

Ser Erryk holds you back as you lunge for Otto. “Come near my daughter, and I’ll fucking kill you!” Viserion lands behind you; his body leans over you as he roars in Otto’s face. “Mention her name again, and I’ll say the word and fucking burn you!”

Daemon points dark sister in the direction of the former hand of the king. You both look to your mother, awaiting to see what she does yet, and to your surprise, she does nothing.

—

Your blood boils as you pace back and forth, the anger seething from you. Otto’s words had equally terrified and angered you. The thought of Aegon, the usurper, getting anywhere near your precious daughter was enough to tempt you to fly to the King's landing and burn her to the ground before the Greens had the chance to take her from you. Daemon was furious that your mother didn’t let him kill Otto then and there, adding to the tension building between them.

Too focused on your rage, you miss most of what your grandsire, Lord Corlys, says regarding the Velaryon fleet; you only zone back in when you hear your husband's voice. “We should bear those messages. Dragons can fly faster than ravens, and they’re more convincing.”

You quickly realize he wants to go as your mother’s messenger instead of sending ravens. “Jacaerys is right, your Grace; send us.”

With glossy eyes, your mother looks between her three eldest children and says, “Very well. Prince Jacaerys and Princess Lyarra will fly north. The princess will fly to the Eyrie to see my mother’s cousin, Lady Jeyne Arryn, and Prince Jacaerys will fly to Winterfell to treat with Lord Cregan Stark for the support of the North. Prince Lucerys will fly south to Storm’s End and treat with Lord Borros Baratheon. We must remind these lords of the oaths they swore. And... the cost of breaking them.”

You notice Jace’s hesitation, but he simply nods his head. Squeezing his hand, you face your mother and say, “Yes, your grace. We will get ready to leave as soon as possible.”

—

“I will see you soon, my little prince,” you say, quietly placing Daemon in his crib. You decided to feed him to help settle him before leaving. Your son would eventually latch onto the wet nurse, but it was always smoother when you were nursing him yourself.

Sensing a presence behind you, you turn and smile, seeing your husband standing by the doorway of the nursery. His head is low as you begin to lace the front of your dress back up. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve spoken with mother. I’m going to Winterfell and the Eyrie, so you can stay here.”

You shake your head and say, “No, that means you will be gone much longer. And I cannot let you and Lucerys be messengers while I remain here.”

“Given what Otto said, the children need one of us here.”

Although you hadn’t liked the idea of leaving any of your children, you understood it was important to gather allies for your mother. The sooner she sat on the iron throne, the better, as nobody was safe while Aegon was calling himself king. “Then you should stay; I’m not a fighter, but you are. You could protect our family better than I could.”

Jace pulls you in for a hug, and he lets out a soft chuckle. “I doubt that; you’re a fiercer dragon than I’ll ever be, and I know you’ll keep our babies safe. Plus, Daemon is struggling to bond with the wet nurses; he needs you close by.”

Flying north together and then splitting up for only a couple of days was bearable, but with him flying both places, he’d be gone for a minimal week. You cling to him tightly. “I’m scared you won’t come back or that the greens will come for Aemma.”

Jace cups your face. “I promise you, they won’t take our daughter from us.”

You desperately wanted to believe him, but the fact that Otto was bold enough to say it made your bones chill. Your mother's reaction also causes you to worry. Losing your grandsire, your mother being usurped, then losing her baby, and now the threat of having her grandchild taken from her home would all be weighing heavily. You feared the unknown and what might possibly happen to cause your mother to finally snap.

—

You stand on the edge of Dragonstone with your mother and maester as Jacaerys and Lucerys get ready to leave.

“It’s been said that as Targaryens, we are closer to gods than to men,” your mother says, looking at Jace and Luke. “And the Iron Throne puts us a touch closer, perhaps. But if we are to serve the Seven Kingdoms, we must answer to their gods. If you take this errand, you go as messengers, not as warriors. You must take no part in any fighting. Swear it to me now under the eyes of the Seven.”

“I swear it.”

“I swear it.”

"Thank you," she hands a scroll to Jace. “Cregan Stark is... closer to your age than mine. I would hope that, as men, you can find some common interests.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” Jace puts the scroll into his pocket before embracing you; he kisses your forehead multiple times. “I will see you soon, Lyarra. Avy jorrāelan.”

Teary-eyed, you say, “Avy jorrāelan, ñuha dārilaros.”

Reluctantly, you step back, giving him space to leave. Gulping down, you hold back the tears threatening to spill and kiss the side of Luke’s head, “Ñuha dōna lēkia, I will see you soon.”

Ñuha dōna lēkia - My sweet brother

Avy jorrāelan, ñuha dārilaros - I love you, my prince

Avy jorrāelan - I love you

[jomsimagination]

"bunny" || Beth greene Grimes! fem! reader

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧, 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧. 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐨.

𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐞𝐫𝐚!

it all started on one specific morning, well it was before breakfast, and you two were in one of the watch towers, you know, watching stuff. and guarding zombie's.

you and Beth had a secret relationship, hidden from her father, or yours, to anyone basically. but Maggie, she was the one who gave Beth the idea to confess to you, plus the flowers, but that was Beth's idea. and you liked her too, of course you did, you two were inseparable from the first day you met, to now.

back to present, you two were sweetly cuddling while watching over the prison, or your base, with her back-hugging you. you watch walkers near the base with the sniper rick trusted you on, while she breathes in your scent, which she always found you sweet-smelling. and humming her favorite song softly.

she was your favorite human, even more so than carl. since she was always so sweet to you, bringing you flowers whenever she finds them, always bringing you presents and gifts. on days she can't find any flowers, because of rick. she gives you kisses on the cheek as gifts, she was the one who showed you any affection, the only who showed you affection in what was left of the world.

not that anyone even showed you affection in the normal world, you didn't even have your first kissed yet, nor your first relationship. you were only 16 when the apocalypse started, you didn't have a lot of time to do those things.

you flinched when she pressed a kiss on your neck, not used to the feeling. "sorry." she mumbled, as her arms around you loosened since she backed away a little. "n-no it's fine, I'm not used to getting kisses there." you mumbled, regretting your words after.

"are you sure? i don’t want to make you uncomfortable or something." she whispered, looking down on her feet. you dropped your sniper on the desk, turning around to look at her. "i'm sure." you lift her head and look into her sweet, and innocent eyes.

"you could never do something to make me uncomfortable." you press a soft kiss on her cheek, you hand resting on her cheek. and she did it, she stole your first kiss. her hands trail to your waist pulling you closer to her.

she walked until the back of your knees hit the desk making you sit on it, pushing away your sniper rifle, beth placed her hands on the desk, pinning you.

you two pull away to get air into your lungs, due to kissing for a long time. "was-was that okay?" she asks, making you look up. "it was okay, it was great." you answer, cupping her cheeks and kissing her once again.

she pulls away fron the kiss, instead trailing her kisses down your neck. but before anything happens. "is this okay?" she asks, as you nod your head, slowly lifting your head, so she gains more access.

she spreads kisses on your neck until she reaches a spot that makes you quietly moan, but she notices that, so she put her attention to that one spot only. whilst you make more sounds, her hands go back to your waist, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

her kissing soon turned into soft biting and licking it afterwards, you were shocked. and even more shocked when you heard daryl quietly chuckle, while beth was to focused to even hear him.

"beth." you pushed her away, fixing your messed up hair. "breakfast's ready." he said, walking away, still softly chucklin to himself. beth seemed a little sad when you pushed her away. "beth s-sorry." you whisper, holding her hand.

"no. it's fine." she smiled, kissing youd cheek before the both of you come down from the watch tower and towards the group. "here's your breakfast, bunny." daryl snickers giving you your bowl of food.

you pull him aside, away from the group, and have a small chat with him. "bunny? really? real mature." you sternly say, rolling your eyes. "says the one who made out with someone, when they're suppose to be watching over the base. god you two are like glenn and magie, same tower by the way."

and with that you physically gag. "ew, what? really, same tower?" you ask as he just walks away, not bothering to look at you. "that's so disgusting." you mutter under you breath, a disgusted look on my face.

"hey, y/n, you alright?" you father asked you, as you walk to the group. "yeah." you nod, sternly looking at daryl, as if an eagle watching over their prey. but to daryl, you were just a bunny looking at a strawberry. in short: you were nothing but a kid for him.

"what do you want, bunny." he grumbled.

you were just eating you food and watching daryl, if he ever says anything to you father, or Beth's, when said; Beth comes and sits next to you.

"hey, you okay?" she asks, the both of you were separated from the group, but still close to them. "yeah, i'm okay, why?" you answer, as you felt her hand on top of yours, blushing with the sudden contact.

"nothing, you're looking at daryl like you wanna eat him alive." she jokes, making me laugh. "no, it-it's fine, i'm just watching over him-" she cuts you sentence short. "afraid our dad's will find out?" she whispers, then she lead's the both of you to her cell, or room, as she likes to call it.

"what if, i'm ready. to tell everyone. but are you ready? i mean we have been dating for a few months now. and i'm not scared anymore." she says, holding your hands in hers. "i-i don't think i'll ever be ready, but i'm sure of us, so whenever they ask, i guess we just say yes?"

"i love you. bunny." she said, making you chuckle, then seeing her serious expression. "look, i love you too. but bunny, really?" you chuckled as she burrowed her eyebrow together.

"yeah, i heard daryl calling you it. and you do look like a bunny." she smiles, pinching your cheeks. "stop that." you blush, pouting. "i do not look like a bunny." you try hard not to pout, but it's in you nature.

"yes you do." she giggles, still pinching your cheeks, making your cheeks more red. "stop it.” you giggle, as she soon tickles you. once the laughing calms down, you both make eye contact, silence filling the small room, a comfortable silence.

“i love you.”

“i love you too, bunny.”

[unloved-cadillac]

Time is on Our Side. (Ayato x Reader)

Summary: Y/n returns home after 12 years to the boy she loves.

——————————————————————————

“Y/n! Give it back!”

“You’re gonna have to catch me first, Ayato!”

Two young kids tell back and first while the blue-haired Prince chases his best friend along the beach of Inazuma. She was fast. Always giving Ayato a run for his life whenever she played games with him. Y/n held his seashell she stole when he wasn’t looking. And right now, she wasn’t either as she trips on a stone and falls on the sand.

“Y/n!” Ayato sprints to her as she sits up. “Are you okay?” He asks, kneeling down to her. “My knee. It hurts.” She says, voice breaking a bit.

“Shh. I’m here. Hold my hand. This is gonna sting a bit.” He holds out his hand as she fits hers in it. Ayato begins to bend water and heals her scratches. The fresh feeling of the cold water left a refreshing aftermath on Y/n’s knee as she straightens her leg. “Hey it’s all better! You’re awesome, Ayato!” She says and he blushes. “I-It’s nothing, really.”

Y/n smiles and gives him his seashell back and kisses his cheek. “It matches your hair.” She says and Ayato blushes. “Come on. Let’s head back. Ayaka’s probably worried sick.” Ayato says and helps Y/n up. The young kids walk to the Kamisato Estate where Ayaka sat with her grandma. “Yato!” She yells and runs to her big brother. “Hey, baby sis. Look what I got for you.” He bends down and gives her matching seashell like his. Ayaka’s eyes sparkle and widen as she awes at it. “Thank you!” Y/n patted Ayaka’s head and gave her a bag of seashells. “Let’s make a chime with them, Ayaka. What do you say?” She asks and Ayaka nods enthusiastically. The trio headed to the balcony and began to make the chimes. Ayato’s eyes never left Y/n, his little heart beating a million beats per minute whenever he sees her made it hard to concentrate. He’d confess but he felt it wasn’t the right time just yet. But he never missed the way she caught his gaze and held it with a smile. The way their hands would brush against each other and neither of them flinching away.

Y/n's family was in the shoe business. Her father was the best shoe tailor in all of Inazuma and even sold shoes to the higher families, like the Kamisato clan. That's how they met. The first time she saw Ayato was when Y/n’s dad had been called personally by the Head of the Kamisato Clan to see the new stock. Y/n stood next to her dad as he showed Lord Kamisato the newest shoe creation when she saw the blue-haired boy outside. He was training with one of his teachers and Y/n snuck away to watch them spar. Ayato's eyes drifted to Y/n's and he got distracted. Poor boy got struck down but Y/n giggled at him. Ever since then, the two had been inseparable. Until now.

When Y/n went back home, she had received news that made her heart drop. Her father had been offered a new place to work but it was in Liyue.

“So you’re leaving?” Ayato asks and she nods. They sat on a rock by the beach as she told him. “It’s important that he goes, Ayato. It’s something he’s been wanting for a while now and-”

“Do you have to?”

Ayato interrupts her and she looks at him. As she looked in his eyes, she could feel her heart break. “Yes. I’m all he has left, Ayato.” She says softly and turns her head towards the sea. Silence falls between them but it’s broken shortly after when Ayato hears Y/n chuckle. “What?”

“Why are we acting like I’m never coming back? This is my home. I may be gone for a while but I will come back. You can’t live without me.” She says and they both share a laugh.

“Promise?” Ayato asks and Y/n holds out her pinky to which he locks with his. “I promise you, Kamisato Ayato, my best friend in the entire world, that I will come back.”

Ayato and Ayaka watched the ship Y/n and her dad took, sail away. She stood by the edge and waved as the brother and sister waved back. “Don’t forget us, Y/n!” Ayaka screams. “Never!” Y/n yells back and smiles. Ayato’s breathing became heavy as he held back tears. The ocean was taking the girl he fell in love with away from him. His heart was sailing away and he wasn’t sure when he might get it back.

A year after Y/n left, the deity known as the Raiden Shogun, announced her eternal world by sealing off Inazuma from the outside world. People who were in couldn’t leave and vice versa. The news broke Ayato. All hope of seeing Y/n again was gone. It seemed like this was his destiny.

News of Inazuma’s lockdown reached the whole of Teyvat, including Liyue. Y/n cried harder than she ever did. Her home wasn’t hers anymore. Ayato and Ayaka were too far to reach. That day, she swore to keep the promise she made with the boy she loved.

To come back home. No matter what.

12 Years later

Y/n walked the streets of Liyue doing her daily errands as she looked at the fruit stall. Two guys were next to her talking as she picked her fruit.

“I can’t believe it though. It’s finally over. Inazuma’s free again.”

“Over a decade and now the Shogun comes to her senses. No offense to her but damn. She didn’t really think that was possible, did she?”

Y/n’s eyes widen as she listens. She turns to them and taps one of their shoulders. “Excuse me? Sorry for disturbing but I couldn’t help but over hear. Did you say the Souku decree is over?”

“Yes. An incident happened and the Shogun finally lifted the lockdown.”

“So people can go visit there now?”

“Yeah. I heard Inazuman cuisine is amazing. We have to go..”

The two men drifted off into conversation as Y/n stood in shock. It’s over. She could go back. She could see him again. There was hope.

Y/n sprinted back to the shop where her uncle was with a customer and another coworker. “Yuko.” Y/n calls her and she looks at the girl. “Hmm?” Y/n makes a “come here” motion with her hand and Yuko walks to her. “Yup?”

“Did you hear? About Inazuma?”

Yuko tilts her head then her eyes widen. “Yes. Yes! I did! The Soukou decree has been banned. That man is just telling your uncle about it now.” Yuko points to Y/n’s uncle and customer.

Y/n smiles to herself as she remembers the last day back at Inazuma.

“I’m going back.”

~~~~

“I’m going back home, Uncle.” Y/n tells him as she begins to pack. “For how long? What about the business? What about-“

“Uncle.” Y/n stops him and he looks at her. Smiling, she takes his hands in hers, “I’m going to open up shop down there. You will be owner of our Liyue branch and I will be the owner back home. It’s what dad wanted anyway.” She looks at her dad’s photo on the wall and so does her uncle.

He sighs.

“Can’t argue with the facts, Y/n. We’ll sort out the business aspect once you’re settled down there. Come here.” He opens his arms for her and she happily hugs him. “Gonna miss you, kiddo.”

“I’ll miss you too, Uncle.”

The next day, Yuko had her bags packed with Y/n’s as they boarded the first ship to Inazuma. “Can you believe it, Yuko? After all these years..” Y/n says and looks out at the ocean. “I really can’t. So much of adventures await us, Y/n. I’m excited.” She says and holds Y/n. “Me too.” Y/n smiles.

The ocean was calm, few bumps here and there, but the sun shined brightly indicating a brand new start. When the ship started getting closer to Inazuma, Y/n and Yuko looked at the place. “Wow! Inazuma is…beautiful!” Yuko says and Y/n nods. “And this is just the beginning.”

At the dock, Y/n hopes off of the ship, holding her hat in place as she takes in the scenery. Sakura trees, the smell of fish.

Home. She was finally home.

“The guys said everything will be ready to take in the evening. So take me everywhere, Y/n.” Yuko says, making Y/n chuckle. “Yeah. Looks like nothing much has changed anyway. I’d still know this place like the back of my hand.”

The two went through Ritou, looking at the different stalls and admiring all of the places they came across. “We should head to the city. Get some food.” Y/n says and Yuko agrees.

At the restaurant, Y/n and Yuko stood in the line as they waited to order, when Yuko taps Y/n’s shoulder. “Hey isn’t that the traveler?” Y/n looks and sees the traveler with a very familiar face. Blue hair, a cryo vision. Y/n’s eyes widen as she grabs Yuko’s hand. “Oh my god. Yuko, that’s…”

Ayaka walked with the traveler, smiling and laughing when her eyes landed on Y/n. “Ayaka? Hello? You good?” Paimon waves a hand in front of Ayaka’s face but she didn’t flinch. Paimon and Traveller look at Y/n.

“Ayaka..” Y/n says and Ayaka runs to her. “Y/n!” She hugs Y/n and holds onto her. “It’s you. It’s really you. You’re back. You’re back.” Ayaka says through tears. “I’m here. Oh, Ayaka. How I missed you.”

Ayaka pulls away and Y/n cups her face. “You’ve grown up. Looks at you.” Y/n says and sniffs. “I’ve missed you so much, Y/n. There’s so much I have to tell you.”

“I know. I’m just glad I’m here now. How is everyone? I heard about Lord and Lady Kamisato. I’m so sorry, Ayaka. I wish I could’ve been here. I couldn’t even write.” Y/n says as her tears fall. “No, no it’s okay. We’re all fine.”

Ayaka tells Y/n about the traveller and Y/n tellls her about Liyue and her dad. “I’m sorry, Y/n.” Ayaka says and Y/n shakes her head. “No need.” She pauses for a second. “How is..” she asks and Ayaka smiles, knowing who. “He’s good. He’s the Yashiro Commissioner now. It’s a long story. Please, Yuko and Y/n, join us for dinner. It’ll be so nice to be together again.”

“Oh, are you sure we won’t be a bother, Lady Kamisato? You both seem so busy.” Yuko says and Ayaka waves her fan. “No, not at all. I’ll tell our guards to get your stuff as well but please come.” Ayaka holds Y/n’s hands as if she’ll leave again. Y/n smiles at the little girl she remembers. How Ayaka used to braid her hair and decorate it with all sorts of flowers she found. How Y/n used to read to her under the tree at their home with Ayato playing his violin. Beautiful memories that shall live on forever.

“Alright, we’ll come.” Y/n finally says and Ayaka smile broadens. “There’s just a few things I need to get done before we come. I’m opening up shop here so I just need to get my stuff sorted out.” Y/n says and Ayaka nods. “Don’t be late.” Y/n hugs Ayaka and the trio leave while Y/n smiles. “It looks like she really missed you, Y/n.” Yuko says. Y/n nods and wipes her eyes. She couldn’t wait for night to fall.

~~~~

After somewhat sorting out the shop, Y/n and Yuko prepare to go to the Kamisato Estate. Yuko ran up and down looking for things while Y/n just sat still. “That guy that was helping us was really cute. Granted he has horns but whatever- Y/n?” Yuko turns her head to the abnormallly quiet Y/n who stares at her hands. “Y/n? Are you okay?” Y/n looks up to see Yuko and nods. “Just…a bit overwhelmed, I guess.”

Yuko smiles and leans in front of Y/n. “It’s okay. We don’t have to go if you don’t want?” Y/n quickly shakes her head and gets up. “No. No, I’m fine. Ready?” Yuko nods. And the two headed off.

As they walked up the steps, Yuko pointed at different things and awing at them while Y/n told stories about how she used play here. When they made it to the gate, a guard stopped them. “Lady Kamisato is expecting guests and cannot meet with anyone.”

Yuko and Y/n look at each other. “Yeah, we’re the ones she’s expecting.” Yuko says.

“General Shiju. It’s lovely to see you again.” Y/n says and the general frowns in thought. “You know me?” He asks and she nods. “I will always remember the guard who was assigned to watch three troublemakers. Remember when we pranked you by leaving you in the forest?” Y/n smiles and his face brightens and his jaw drops in awe.

“Y/n! O-oh my. I can’t believe it. Little Y/n is here. Look how you’ve grown.” He says and bows his head.

“Please come in. My lady has been waiting for you.” He stands aside and lets the girls in. “Woah, Y/n! This place is amazing.” Yuko says and Y/n agrees. “It’s like it never changed.” Y/n whispers. The both of them enter the estate where the smell of food hit them both. They look around but don’t see Ayaka.

“Ah. Hello. Welcome to the Kamisato Estate. My names Thoma, the housekeeper. Please follow me to my lady.” Thoma says and escorts the ladies to Ayaka. The room was spacious with a table filled with food. Ayaka got up from her seat to welcome her guests.

“Feel at home?” Ayaka asks Y/n and Y/n nods. “Thank you for inviting us, Lady Kamisato.” Yuko says. “Please call me Ayaka. Ayato is running a bit late. He has some stuff to attend to but he will come.” Ayaka winks at Y/n. “Let’s eat!” Yuko says and they all dig in.

They all talked and laughed and then it turned into business. “Y/n, your first pair of shoes you make on your home ground will be mine. I called it.” Ayaka says and Y/n giggles. “Of course, Ayaka.”

The sound of the door opening then closing catches everyone’s attention. “Oh! Looks like my lord is here.” Thoma says and goes to welcome home the commissioner. Y/n freezes in her seat, staring at the entrance. Ayaka shares a look with Yuko. ‘He’s here’ she mouths to her and Yuko nods.

“I heard we have a visitor. Are they in there?” A deep voice asks and Y/n breathes heavily. “Yes. Lady Kamisato is there as well. Right this way.” Thoma says and walks in. He opens the paper wall and Y/n sees a flash of blue disappear behind it.

“Yuko, come with me for a sec.” Ayaka says and helps Yuko up, leaving Y/n alone.

“My sister says that you’re an old friend of hers. How may I be of service to you?” His rich voice asks and Y/n gulps. So…different. His voice sounds like the finest silk in Teyvat. No longer the young boy she remembers.

“I promised a certain boy I’ll come back to him.” She says and Ayato gasps softly. ‘Is it..could it be?’

Suddenly, the paper wall is moved and Ayato looks at her. Y/n smiles as she gets up. “Y-Y/n?” He asks through a gasp. She nods. “I’ve missed you, Ayato.” She says and Ayato walks to her.

He pauses. Trying to catch his breath. “Y/n. You’re here. You’re home. When? I didn’t even know.” He asks and Y/n smiles. “Surprise.” She says and he immediately embraces her. His arms. In his arms, she felt home. Her smell was one he couldn’t ever forget. Ayato holds her and they both kneel on the ground. “I thought about you everyday, Y/n. I couldn’t forget you.” Ayato says and she hums. “And I you, Ayato.” She pulls away slowly and looks at his face.

She cups his cheek and he holds her hand. “I promise to never leave you again.” She whispers and he smiles. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Two months later

Y/n and Yuko were settled in and business already started to increase. Having the designs imported from Liyue, but made with Inazuman materials was quite the attention stealer. Ayato visited every day and Ayaka would sometimes pop by. Even though Ayato was still the Yashiro Commissioner, he always made time for her.

Y/n was in the back on the store, sorting out storage when a pair of hands covered her eyes. “Guess who.” Ayato says and Y/n hums. “This voice seems familiar. Is it the same boy I used to steal all his things from?” Ayato chuckles and she turns around to face him. “Ah yes. My little thief. Still have my kimonos?” He asks and Y/n nods. “Of course. But I do much rather prefer these new ones,” she says touching his chest material, “so pristine. So..lovely.”

Her hand laid on his chest as they both stared into each other’s eyes. A soft twinkle in Y/n’s as her playful side started to awaken. Ayato bites his bottom lip as he looks at hers. “You can have it. Have them all. But first,” he bends down to the side of her neck,” don’t you need to remove these first?” His breath tickled her skin as she softly gasped when his lips laid a kiss on her.

Y/n’s eyes shut as he played with her. But suddenly, he pulled awa, just far enough to see her face. Y/n’s opens her eyes to look at him. “No. Not like this. I’ve wanted you ever since I saw you but properly. Be mine, Y/n?” His question hung in the air, making Ayato nervous. Something he has never felt in all his years.

But Y/n smiles, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him close. “I was always yours.” She whispers and clashes his lips with hers. It all felt so natural.

The stars in Teyvat aligned for them and fate had brought the two together. If there’s one thing Teyvat knows, it’s that the heart knows no bounds.

——————————————————————————

“I cannot wait to get him. He better come home.”

🖤🤍Thanks for reading🤍🖤

-Caddy.

[crackspinewornpages]

Les Misérables 360/365 -Victor Hugo

351 

In the mayor’s office they were dressed in finery and nice clothes Gillenormand had to give away Cosette as Valjean broke his thumb. (how does this hinder him from giving her away) “Evil does not come from man, who is good at bottom.”p.870 Gillenormand declares everyone to be happy and also, he no longer has any political opinions. (they would be happy to hear that) They returned to a home full of flowers and a party of relatives, Theodule was now a captain, Cosette and him didn’t recognize each other. At the banquet Valjean told Cosette he was content and laughed at her command but as the guests entered the hall Valjean wasn’t there, he left with the excuse of his ailment. (just a broken thumb stop being a baby) Gillenormand makes a toast that there can't be too much love, women must be loved, impossible for God to make people anything but for it. The couple left for the wedding night, “To love, or to be loved-this suffices. Demand nothing more, there is no other pearl to be found in the shadowy folds of life. To love is a fufilment.”p.875 (that’s a theme of this tome) 

352 

When no one was paying attention Valjean slipped away to the chamber he had carried Marius eight months before. He listened to the party and left returning to Rue de l’ Homme Arme, the house was empty and bare. He took out Cosette's childhood mourning clothes he saved and thought of that December, thinking Fantine would be pleased she was mourning for her and was warm, broken hearted, he sobbed. 

353 

Valjean struggled once again, how many times has he been through this, a crossroad and heart-rending question. Marius and Cosette was his doing but should he retain Cosette, as a father, as he is in disgrace, in the law. He had clung to Cosette and ascended from disaster, should he let go, the Champmathieu affair is nothing compared to Cosette’s marriage. Reentrance to the galleys, to the void, should he impose the galleys to those children, sacrifice Cosette or himself, he thought of it for twelve hours. 

354 

On February 17 there was a visitor, Valjean returned to Gillenormand’s, he has to speak to Marius privately. Neither Valjean or Marius had slept well (we know you don’t have to say it) but Marius was happy to see him and they want him to live here. Valjean tells him he is an ex convict and it took a while for Marius to understand. He faked his injury since it wouldn't be right to forge the marriage documents, he’s not related to Cosette, she just needed him, he fulfilled that duty. “We have all undergone moments of trouble in which everything within us is dispersed; we say the first things that occur to us, which are not always precisely those which should be said.”p.883 

Marius asks why confess, he could have kept it a secret, what’s his motive, honesty. He doesn’t belong here, he doesn’t belong to family of men, (you stole a freaking loaf of bread and escaped prison decades ago) it all come to an end with Cosette’s marriage, he could lie for her but not himself, his conscience made him confess, he couldn’t have them share his taint. (again you stole a loaf of bread) He condemns himself and evaluates by degrading himself in his eyes, a galley slave with a conscience. (like nobody in prison have any redeeming qualities) “There are encounters which bind us, there are chances which involves in duties.”p.885 When one has a horror over their head, (you stole bread and escaped prison) it’s not right to make others share it without knowledge, Fauchelevent lent his name but he has no right to use it, he once stole bread to live and today he won't steal a name to live. (do I need to beat you with a newspaper too) 

Imagine if he said nothing and one day someone called out Jean Valjean and revealed him, he is a wretched man, Marius says he can get him a pardon, he’s presumed dead already. (yes this is the 1800s modern forensics and photo records don’t exist he’s believed to be dead for like a decade now how many people know his name and face and remember when the public saw you risk your life to save somebody they wanted you pardoned) It was then Cosette entered the room and thinks they are talking politics and won't have it, Marius tried to say they are talking business, then she’ll stay and listen but he wants to talk privately. She sees Valjean is pale and asks if he’s well, no and he smiles for her, and Marius convinces her to leave. Marius worries when she’ll find out, but Valjean has him swear to keep it from her, she was frightened enough of the passing galley slaves. He starts crying, wanting to die, Marius tells him he’ll keep it secret. Valjean asks if he shouldn’t see Cosette anymore, he thinks it’s for the best. As he leaves, he says he desires to see Cosette, but he had to tell him for nine years he was a father, he’s not sure if Marius understands, he’s told he can visit in the evening. 

355 

Marius was upset he felt instinctively enigmatic about Valjean and it was the galleys, was he and Cosette’s happiness condemned to it. He had entered this love affair without precautions and life amended it little by little. (that’s what happens when you marry someone you only knew for a few months) He had never told Cosette of the Gorbeau house affair, the fleeing victim, the Thenardiers, Eponine, he was so intoxicated with Cosette at the time nothing but love. (that’s obsession) Weighing consequences if he had told her and found out Valjean was a convict would it change anything, no, so nothing to regret. Valjean might have been hidden forever in an honest family but didn’t for conscience, Marius tried to find balance from Fauchelevent and Valjean, he went to the barricade for Javert out of revenge it seems. (you could clear this all up by asking him) How had to come to Cosette and kept her for so long, her childhood sheltered by a criminal, he couldn’t think of it without getting dizzy. 

How did he educate her, why raise her, that was Valjean and God’s secret. Marius knew God has his tools and Valjean was one for Cosette. He wouldn’t dare question Valjean, (seriously a third act misunderstanding stop being stupid) Cosette was pure and that was enough for him, so Valjean’s personal affairs didn’t concern him. “Jean Valjean was a passer-by. He had said so himself. Well, he had passed. Whatever he was, his part was finished.”p.893 The man was a convict, not even on a social ladder, Marius had found it simple, breeches in law should be followed with suffering, then there came Valjean. He should have freed his house of a man like Valjean but he made a promise and Valjean held his and one must keep their word, but his first duty was Cosette and through questioning her found the nettle protected the lily. (yeah it’s almost as if felons can still be good fathers) 

BOOK EIGHTH FADING AWAY OF THE TWILIGHT 

356 

The following night Valjean knocked on the Gillenormand house and was let in, fatigued, he sat in an armchair and dozed until Cosette came to him. He doesn’t move to embrace her and tells her not to call him father but Jean if she wants. She wants to know what he means, what happened, she doesn’t understand, she no longer needs a father since she has a husband. She’s furious at this (oh actual emotion besides weeping) and Marius’s strange behavior, is he angry at her because she’s happy, her happiness was his life now his days are over. She embraces him, he pulls her off and leaves and won’t address her formally again. 

357 

Valjean came the next night and Cosette wasn’t as warm, Valjean came every day and Marius arranged to be absent, no one knew the reasons behind it. Weeks passed like this and Cosette fell into married life, only wanting Marius to be with her and eventually Valjean became a different person, she doesn’t like it, who is he, she doesn’t know how good he is, she’d be afraid of him. Over time he visits became longer and once Cosette slipped and called him father he felt joy but said to call him Jean, she doesn’t see him cry. (you ever wish you could beat some sense into fictional characters as much as I do) 

358 

Then there was no more familiarity, he talked of her childhood, one day Marius took Cosette to the garden of Rue Plumet and forgot the time when Valjean would visit and Cosette didn't notice she didn’t see him. Valjean points out that she should have a carriage and hasn’t replaced Toussaint, why not profit from her riches, it adds to happiness, Cosette didn't respond. To stay longer Valjean talked of Marius, it was nice to forget by her side. One day Cosette mentioned to him Marius wants to live frugally on three thousand a year, (I don’t know how much that is in 1833 but in 2023 that is way below poverty line) Valjean didn't say anything to her but Marius believes he came into that money by nefarious means. (could have this cleared up instantly by just asking him) The lack of fire and distant chairs in the room was a subtle way of showing him the door. Once the chairs weren't there and a servant said they weren't expecting anyone to visit, the next day Valjean didn’t come Cosette inquired why and was told he was traveling. She only noticed he didn't come one day, it was two. 

359 

Summer 1833 shopkeepers noticed the same passerby in black from Rue de l’ Homme Arme he walked slowly and slowly shortened his journey, what was the use. (so he’s getting ready to die) 

BOOK NINTH SUPREME SHADOW, SUPREME DRAW 

360 

How terrible happiness is to make one forget duty, Marius regretted the promise so gradually estranged Valjean from Cosette, he considered it necessary and just. He tried to restitution the six hundred thousand francs and wouldn’t condemn Cosette to this knowledge, (again how is he a love interest he’s just terrible) who mechanically did as he wished, she was attached to her father but loved her husband. (she really has no personality of her own does she) Occasionally she asked if he returned from his journey and Valjean gave the answer no. Cosette allowed herself to be taken away from him, (really no personality or will of her own) it is the ingratitude of nature, youth go where there is joy, old age the end. (you have no idea how happy I am that this is almost the end) 

NEXT

[drawlfoy]

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

[forever-rogue]

In Name Only - Part 20

A/N: Hello, my sunshines! We’ve come to the second to last part. I hope you and enjoy and I think this is what we’ve been waiting for... As always, feedback and comments are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged, let me know. xx

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: none

IN NAME ONLY SERIES MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

One Year Later

“Sunshine?” as soon as you heard his voice, a sense of panic settled into your bones as you quickly hid the items in your hands in the trunk beneath your bed. There was just enough time to push it back under the golden frame and obscure it with the blanket before jumping to your feet. 

Oberyn pushed open the door and poked his head in, a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth, “I was wondering where you were - the children told me they hadn’t seen you all morning save for a few moments at breakfast.”

“Indeed, they tell you the truth,” you agreed with a tight lipped smile and a raise of eyebrows, “I’ve been...quite busy.”

“Just what are you hiding, my dear wife?” he came into your shared chambers and shut the door behind him, crossing his arms over his broad chest with a look of amusement on his face. Mimicking his posture, you tried to put on a neutral expression before scoffing lightly at him.

“You are bold to assume something of that nature, dearest husband,” you swallowed the lump in your throat and tried not to steal a glance back at the trunk, “I have a household to help run, multiple children to keep after, and a husband that always seems to require my assistance. Has it ever occurred to you that I might be simply busy?"

"It has indeed," he took a step closer and rubbed his chin in mock thought, "but I also know that is not the case right now. What are you hiding, pretty girl?"

"Nothing," you insisted as he raised an eyebrow. He stepped even closer and put a finger under your chin and turned your face to meet his, "you're not playing fair now!"

"Am too," he whispered as he leaned close enough to brush his lips against yours, "it is not my fault you can't say no to me."

"Oberyn," you tried to be firm, you really did, but you were no match for your husband's charm. His large, warm hands found purchase onyour waist as he pulled flush against his body. Instinctively, your arms wrapped around his neck as you crashed your lips against his. 

And just as always, he kissed you like it was the first time, like he was still madly in love with you (he was, of course), like it was the only thing in life he craved. Kissing him always managed to be such a blissful, saccharine thing, and you never seemed to get enough, even when you were left breathless.

Reluctantly, you pulled back to catch your breath and rested your forehead against his. Oberyn, feeling ever so cheeky, stole a few more kisses, "are you going to tell me now? Come on, Sunshine."

"Nice try," you offered him one last kiss, as he playfully pouted, "you're not getting anything from me. And even if I was hiding something, my lips are sealed!"

"Sunshine-"

"Oberyn," you walked out of his delicate grasp and headed for the door, "let go of this silly notion! But for now, help me round up the children!"

"I will find out-"

"Umm…" the door to your chambers opened after a loud knock, followed by a nervous faced Asha, "I hope this isn't a bad time...I feel like I've always got the worst timing but I need you both to come with me…and before you ask, the children are all well...its ummm….just come with me. Quickly."

Exchanging a worried glance with Oberyn, you held out your hand, which he quickly took before the two of you followed after the young girl. She was practically flying to the kitchens, casting a look backwards here and there to make sure you were still following.

"Asha? Why such haste? Are you sure everything is alright?" you tightly squeezed your husband's hand as you tried to figure out what could possibly have happened. It hadn't been long since you'd left breakfast and gone to tend to your little project before Oberyn found you. It was hard to imagine what could have happened in the short amount of time.

"Its-"

Before she could another word, you could hear soft, insistent cries coming from the other end of the kitchen. Your hand fell from Oberyn’s as confusion muddled your features. He appeared just as confused and awestruck as you as the cries continued. 

“A baby?” you whispered as you turned to your husband momentarily. He shrugged, suggesting that he had no clue what was going on either. Turning back to Asha, you could see had paled lightly, “is that a baby? Who's had a baby...how? When?"

“Yes,” she whispered, reaching for your arm and dragging you into the kitchen. Your eyes immediately landed on a small, golden bundle all wrapped in a basket on the counter. Some small movement came from the blankets as the cries seemed to turn to soft coos, “i-it’s a newborn, I think anyway, he’s so tiny. Someone left him outside the delivery gates a little ago.”

“A newborn babe?” you asked softly before taking a step closer, wondering if it was the right thing to do, “did anyone see anything? Was there a note? Anything at all?”

“I’m afraid not...he was by himself,” she confessed, “i-it’s not uncommon...well in other parts of the kingdoms for mothers, or parents that can’t keep their babies for whatever reason to leave the newborn babes at the homes of those more fortunate, hoping they’ll take them in or find them a better home.”

“Has this ever happened before? Here?” you turned to look at Oberyn, who simply shook his head at you, “so there’s nothing as to his origins? He’s just...alone?”

“Yes,” she answered, “I just...I panicked and I didn’t know what to do. He's so small and he's going to need someone to care for me. S-should I....should he go to the orphanage?”

“No,” you answered quickly, surprising both of them in turn as they cast curious glances at you. Oberyn was already working at suppressing the grin that threatened to erupt on his features, “not yet, anyway. M-may I see him?”

“Of course,” she bowed her head lightly before stepping to the side, “I’ll get back to my duties. When you need me, let me know and I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

“Thank you,” Oberyn’s hand found your shoulder as you look at him with a worried expression on your face, “what’s wrong, my love?”

“Nothing,” you whispered, “not yet...it’s just...I can’t help but to worry about him....”

Walking over to the counter, you hesitantly looked into the sea of blankets and found a curious pair of brown eyes looking at you. His small pouty lips formed a blubbering smile as he flailed his little arms. A smile worked its way onto your face as Oberyn stood behind you, a hand settling on your hip, “he’s beautiful.”

“He is,” slowly, tentatively you reached hand towards him and stroked his little chubby cheek. He had a light shock of dark hair already, and you couldn’t help but think of Oberyn, “how old do you think he is?”

“I’d wager that he can’t be more than a month old,” Oberyn whispered as he looked down at the small boy, “he’s young, so small still.”

“Oberyn…” you looked at your husband with curious eyes, watching as he looked at the little boy in awe. He was still a stranger, but seemed to trust you already, as if he'd known the two of you before. His hand reached for your finger, curling around it in amusement.

“What are you thinking, Sunshine?” he whispered as he studied you in turn, “tell me.”

“I don’t want to send him to the orphanage….” you felt your eyes well up with the familiar sting of tears, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with a wash of emotions, “I...I don’t think we should.”

You looked at the small baby and your maternal instinct seemed to kick into the overdrive. You loved all of your children, and had enjoyed getting to call the twins your own for the last year, and forever more of course, but there was something about the opportunity to raise this baby that caused you some pause. It didn’t mean that you loved your children any less or anything of the sort, but it was just a different experience. Oberyn must have sensed what you were thinking because he reached up and tenderly cradled your face, stroking over your cheek, “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“What if we...what if we kept him?” you whispered softly as he wiped away the tear that had pearled up and rolled down your cheek, “what if there’s a reason someone left him here - if he was meant to find us? We could raise him as our own...I know it’s a lot, Oberyn, but I think we could do it…”

“As I have always said, I’ve found that things always work out how they’re supposed to, that they play out as they were intended to,” he agreed gently, “perhaps there is a reason we were lucky enough to be the ones to find him. There is always more room in our family for another member, more than enough love to give. You are a wonderful mother, and any child would be lucky to call you theirs. I love you more than you will ever know.”

“Oberyn…” the corners of your mouth quivered in a teary eyed smile, “I love you so much. There is no one better I could have ever asked for - not a better friend, father, husband, or lover.”

He leaned in and pressed gentle kisses to your forehead, cheeks, and only stopped at your lips, gently brushing his against yours. But before you could steal a final kiss, your ears were met with a few gentle, excited sounding coos from the basket. Pausing for a moment, the two of you broke into a fit of giggles. Oberyn pressed a kiss to the side of your heading before nodding towards the baby. 

Turning back to him, you slowly reached into the basket and picked him up, holding him securely in your arms before bringing him to your chest and gently rocking him. Once he calmed down and stopped squirming, you cradled him so you could get a better look at him. He was a chubby little thing, so young and new still, but his eyes were already so bright and curious. There was something about the way he looked at you and wrapped his hand around your index finger that made your heart melt and you knew that you were making the right decision.

“He’s lovely,” you said softly, “we’re going to need a name for him, Oberyn. We can’t just call him...him.”

“Priorities, priorities,” he chuckled as you stuck your tongue out at him, “I think I will leave that up to you, my Sunshine. Whatever you come up with will be perfect. Just like you and our family.”

“Not perfect,” you slowly, ever so gently, passed the baby to him, letting the Prince get to hold his new son for the first time. Ever the expert, he had the little one nestled in his arm in no time; the sight was enough to make you want to cry all over, “not perfect, but filled with a lot of love and good things. Just like this.”

“Just like this,” he agreed with a small smile, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Oh Nym - no, no, no, my love,” your eyes winded in panic as you watched your son clutch at the robe you had abandoned for a few moments. He looked back at you with wide, innocent eyes as he giggled and waved his chubby little fists. You walked back over and pulled the almost six month into your lap as you released his grasp on the fabric, “silly little one, that’s for your Papa! Can’t go on slobbering all over it just yet - that’ll be after we give it to him!”

You wrapped the delicate, silken fabrics back up before tucking them back into the trunk at the foot of the bed. After almost six months of work, six months of slow labor, your Name Day gift for Oberyn was finally ready. You were glad you’d had enough forethought to start planning for it so early and make sure you would have it ready in time. Scooping the babbling baby back into your arms, you set him on your hip as you left your chambers. The sounds of laughter and screaming children had been pouring in loudly from the gardens, and you could spy that they were setting up for Oberyn’s name day celebration. 

“Let’s go find your brother and sisters,” you grinned as you kissed the top of his head; he already had a mop of curls starting that surely would rival Oberyn’s one day, “everyone should be here soon, and your Papa will be back just in time for his big celebration!"

Ever the cunning planner, you’d arranged for Doran and Oberyn to attend to business outside of Sunspear for the last couple of days. And luckily for you, Oberyn hadn’t suspected a thing; you’d never sneaked around in such a manner before and on top of it all, Doran had easily gone along with your little ploy. He’d promised to keep his lips sealed and offered to help however you needed. Luckily, between yourself, Ellaria, and all the children, it had practically been a breeze to plan it all. It was a privileged thing, you realized, to be surrounded by such love and generosity, but you always took full advantage of it all. 

“Mama!” Saria’s excited voice reached your ears as soon as she ran up to you and wrapped her arms around your waist, “did you see all the people? There’s so many people all here for Papa!”

“And you, and your brothers and sisters,” you promised her, gently ruffling her dark curls, “have you all been helping getting everything set up?”

“Mhmm,” she nodded eagerly, “and so many berries and fruits! Papa always shares with me, do you think he will this time too?”

“Of course, my sweetest little bee,” you promised, “your Papa would give them all to you if that’s what you wanted. And before you ask - of course he’ll share cake with you and everyone else too!”

“Yay,” she clapped her hands as she jumped up and down.

“My love,” Ellaria smiled warmly at the two of you before putting her hands on Saria’s shoulders, “why don’t you go and find your brother and sisters and all get changed for the big party? I expect that all of you will be clean and dressed before the sun starts to set? Do you think you can do that for us?”

“Of course,” she adopted a serious expression before displaying a wide, gap toothed grin, “I’ll go and get everyone ready!”

You looked at Ellaria and offered a thankful smile before moving a silent thank you at her. She shot a quick wink before holding her arms to you to relieve you of the baby in your arms. You kissed the top of Nymeros’ dusting of curls before passing him to Ellaria.

“He grows more handsome everyday,” she cooed at him as she peppered his cheeks in kisses, “and you - more beautiful every day. Motherhood suits you, it has always suited you, sweet girl. You’ve really become the backbone of this household. Seeing how he is now, I don’t know how Oberyn survived without you.”

“I think my husband has managed quite well without me,” you laughed lightly, “I just help him remain more organized and on track. It’s not much, but I think we’ve fallen into a nice routine.”

“I’ve never seen him better than with you,” Ellaria insisted as he bounced the baby on her hip, “he’s madly in love with you, you do realize that right?”

“Ellaria...you...I’m not you, and I know it doesn’t matter, but I think about that sometimes,” you admitted softly, brushing your hand over the linen cloth on one of that tables that was slowly becoming laden with food, “not in a bad way, but I...I’ll never be you.”

“Exactly,” she simply smiled at you, putting her hand on top of yours, “that’s what he loves about you. We had many happy years together, sweet girl, and we share daughters that we love more than anything. We were in love back then, but that was a different time and we were different people back then. But you are the one he’s in love with, not me. And that’s okay, you must always remember that. His heart belongs to you, and yours to his. Just like it was meant to be. You have never seen the way he looks at you, when you’re not looking at him. I’ve never seen him look at anyone that way before. And don’t even try to argue with me - I know him better than anyone...except for you of course.”

“I love him madly as well,” you bit your lip shyly as you caught her eye, “he’s...everything to me. He’s given me so much and I can only hope to mean a fraction to him of what he means to me.”

“You mean everything to him,” she insisted softly, “trust me.”

Before you could say anything, a loud commotion wandered into the courtyard as you turned around to find Oberyn standing there with a surprised look on his face. 

“Speak of the devil,” Ellaria nudged you lightly in his direction as his eyes found you, “go to him, sweet dove.”

“Oberyn,” you practically beamed as you dashed over to him, throwing yourself into his outstretched arms, “my moon and stars, you’re home!”

“Sunshine,” he grinned as he effortlessly picked you up and spun around before pressing a hungry kiss to your lips, “I’ve missed you.”

“It’s only been a few days,” you grinned at him “could you really have missed me that much?”

“Of course,” he whispered softly, “what’s all this then? So much commotion and calamity...I daresay I believe you have been up to something.”

“And you, dear husband,” you gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze,”are home much earlier than expected. Of course you’ve come along and ruined your little surprise. Ever the perfect timing, my love.”

“What surprise?” he raised his eyebrows as you sighed and nodded in jest.

“Don’t play coy with me, Oberyn Martell,” you playfully pushed him, “it’s your Name Day celebration, my love. So I suppose I should just say it now, Happy Name Day! I love you more than you will ever know.”

“You’ve planned all of this for me?” he asked in awe as you nodded lightly, “it’s just a Name Day.”

“Your Name Day,” you insisted as you grabbed the front of his lapels before kissing him deeply, “and I wanted to do something special for you. The children helped me plan it of course. They’re been eager for so long...let’s just say that we’ve been planning this for months. Forty-five is something to celebrate, Oberyn!”

“You make me sound so old,” he teased as he wrapped his arms around you and held you against him. You scoffed lightly before laughing at him as he peppered you in kisses, “I love you so much, my Sunshine. Thank you for this, truly. I couldn’t imagine anything better.”

“I would do it a million times over to see that smile, even if it would be once more,” you promised as Ellaria walked over to you. As soon as little Nym saw his father, he blubbered excitedly and made grabby hands at him. Oberyn’s face lit up as he reached for his son and clutched him tightly to his chest, but not before kissing him and cooing at him softly.

“Hello love,” Ellaria pressed a kiss to his cheek, “you’re looking well. We’ve all missed you.”

“Ellaria,” he bowed his head at her, “radiant as ever, and ever the welcome sight. Thank you for coming.”

“I wouldn’t dream of missing it,” she insisted, “we’re family, Oberyn. We always will be. Now why don’t you two go and get dressed and get ready for the celebration. I’ll handle the rest of the preparations.”

“Come on then, my little love,” he brushed his nose gently against Nym’s before reaching for your hand, “come on, my Sunshine. Let us go and get dressed. We have a party to attend it seems!”

»»————-　♡　————-««

You were sat at Oberyn’s right hand side, watching as everyone carried on chattering happily as they ate and drank and danced to music. It had been a long feast and the children were slowly growing tired and weary; Oberyn had Alistar and Loreza on his lap as he told them all sorts of stores, while Nym slept soundly in your arms and Dorea was on your lap. The others were running around and dancing. His hand held yours almost the entire time, fingers brushing over your soft skin, a reassuring squeeze here and there. It was a glorious thing to watch him, so animated and happy as he chatted away with the children and everyone that stopped by to bless him. 

He was handsome as ever, his dark curls adorned with a simple golden circlet that glittered in the firelight, a never ending smile on his face, and a lovely twinkle in his chocolate eyes. A few times he had caught you simply staring, and mouth a quiet what? to which you’d simply responded with a small nothing. He was wearing new robes of golden and bronze, cut and tailored exactly to his proportions and complimenting him perfectly. It was hard to believe that you were just as in love with him now as you had been back when you first started falling for him. 

Before the night could get too far gone, you handed the children off to Arianne, who was more than happy to be of assistance. Standing to your full height, you picked up the knife and slowly tapped against your wine goblet to make enough noise to gather everyone’s attention. It wasn’t long before all eyes turned to you and you reached for Oberyn’s hand, delicately taking it in yours. The way he looked back at you was enough to make you melt then and there.

“First of all, I want to thank you all for graciously accepting my invitation to come here and celebrate my husband’s Name Day with us,” you bowed your head slightly at the multitude of guests that were milling about the table and courtyard, “although I’m sure that no one needed an excuse to drink and have fun.”

After a bit of laughter, you leaned down and pressed a kiss to Oberyn’s soft lips; he responded as he normally did, by gently pulling you into him and letting your touch linger. After a moment, you playfully swatted his hands away, realizing that all eyes were still on you.

“Anyways,” you smirked at him, “I want to thank you all for coming and I want to give the biggest thank you of all to my husband, Oberyn Nymeros Martell. You are the love of my life, my best friend, my partner, and the best father to our children. A few years ago I could not have imagined this life - a life filled with so much laughter, love, adventure, and joy. You have given me everything I could have imagined and more. I never thought it was possible to love someone so much that it still manages to take your breath away every time - until you. I know things aren’t always perfect between us - we’re both stubborn and bullheaded at times, but there is no one else I’d rather spend my days with than you, no one I’d rather go to bed with in the evening. Thank you for loving me and letting me love you in return. And on this, the happiest of name days, I wish you nothing but happiness and many, many more to come, my moon and stars.”

By the end, you were speaking only to him, your eyes locked on yours as you spied his glistening with a few tears. He took your hand in his and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, “and to my lovely wife - a big thank you.”

“Cheers,” you raised your wine glasses and took a long drink of it. You motioned for everyone to restart their festivities as you sat back down next to him and he pulled you closer to him, “happy Name Day, my love."

»»————-　♡　————-««

"I think he's finally asleep," you whispered as you looked in the small crib that was across your chambers, where Nym was finally sleeping. He'd been fussy all evening and getting him down was a challenge, but miraculously you'd managed. Stroking his little you cheek, you grinned at him, "good night, my little love."

Oberyn was already posted up in bed, watching you with interest as you flounced back over and dove under the bed, "what are you up to?"

"I'm afraid I have one more surprise for you," you pulled the trunk out from under the bed and slowly opened. You bit the inside of your cheek before grinning at him, "its nothing much, but I hope you like it."

Standing up slowly, you displayed the sunset orange robe that you'd spent months working on. It was embroidered with golden suns and snakes, along with a few bees here and there, but the touch you cared about the most was the smallest detail. On the inside of the lapels you had sewn each of his children's names, starting from oldest to youngest. 

"Sunshine," his breath hitched in his throat as he slipped out of bed and over to you, "did you make this?"

"I did," you grinned as he took the robe and gently ran his fingers over the delicate fabric, "I've been working on it for some time...you've almost caught me several times! What do you think? You don't have to wear it if you don't fancy it of course."

He quickly cut you off by pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, one hand on the back of your head as he held you close, "I love it. It's beautiful - this is one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me. I can't believe you'd do this all for me."

"I wanted to," you promised, "besides, what do you get a Prince that has everything? Look at the lapels...personally they’re my favorite part.”

And so he did, slowly running his finger over the dainty gold embroidery that spelled out each of his children’s names, starting with Obara and ending with Nymeros. He paused, swallowing the lump in his throat before turning back to you. His mouth opened and closed a few times before finally managed to come up with some words, “this is amazing. I will treasure this in my heart forever, just like you. I don’t think there are quite the right words to thank you for this, or adequately convey how I’m feeling.”

“A simple thank you was more than good enough,” you promised as you stroked his cheek tenderly, “I would do anything to see that smile grace your features, my love. I wanted you to have something special, just for you. I’m so glad you like it. I love you more than you know, Oberyn.”

He was silent as he took your hand and pressed a kiss to your palm and pulled you into him. How easily you molded against his body, just like you had been made to fit there. He rested his head on your shoulders as you played with the curls at the nape of his neck. He hummed in content as you held him, lightly swaying with him in your arms. 

“I have a small surprise for you too,” he whispered when he pulled back and you offered him a lot of curiosity. This was supposed to be about him, but of course, he’d find some way to make it about you too - that was the beauty of Oberyn Martell. He gave and gave and gave and asked for so little in return.

“Oberyn! You absolutely should not have! It’s your day, not mine,” he offered up a cheeky shrug before walking back over to his bureau, gently playing down the robe, and reaching into the top drawer, quickly pulling out something that glinted brilliantly in the candle light, “Oberyn?”

“I had these made,” he opened up his large hand to display a small necklace, intricately designed from the look of the gold and silver. As you reached up to touch them, you realized it was a sun and moon, perfectly nestled together, “sun and moon - a perfect balance and harmony. When we’re together, they’ll be together, but even when we’re apart, we’ll have a piece of each other.”

“You are a fool,” you whispered as a few tears welled up in your eyes and threatened to spill over, “an absolute fool of a man. But I am madly in love with you. You had these made?”

“I did,” he laughed lightly at the sweet look on your features, “just for you - and for me.”

You ran a hand over the pendants, admiring the craftsmanship of them; they were small but so well made and it was easy to see how much love and effort went into them. When you met his eyes, he motioned for you to turn around. Knowing exactly what his intention was, you lifted your hair and let him clasp the small moon around your neck. It set perfectly, and left warm against your skin. You took the other one and repeated the motions on him, but wrapped your arms around his waist once you were finished and pressed a few kisses to the bare skin of his shoulder, “I can’t believe you did this. There are some days that I still think this must all be some sort of wild fever dream. Surely in no life did I ever do anything to deserve you.”

“I assure you, it’s all very real,” he promised, taking a hand and bring it to the spot just above his heart while you listened to its steady beating, “do you hear how it beats so? It beats only for you. Do you feel how it calls for you? My Sunshine - even on the darkest days you bring light into my life. I would do anything for you. You are my heart, my home, my family - everything.”

“Oberyn,” a few tears had rolled on his golden skin and he quickly moved to wipe them away, “I…”

“At no point did I think I would fall in love with this wild, young girl that seemed to heed no one,” he admitted as he cradled your face, “never did I expect you to love a man like me. Two very different people from different worlds, so alike and so different. But then I saw that smile and heard that laugh and I knew that I was a goner then and there. You proved yourself so kind and gentle with such an open and pure heart, so different from this hardened and weary man. But I knew I could never force anything you did not want upon you, you did not deserve that. If this had been in name only forever, then I could have lived with that, albeit less happily, but getting to call you my wife would have been a privilege either way. I do not know if words could ever be an accurate summation of exactly how much you mean to me.”

“No?” you asked softly as you looked at him with trembling lips from your efforts not to cry completely, “because they’re pretty damn good. How am I supposed to compete with that? It’s your Name Day and yet you are the one whispering such honeyed words to me. I do not...Oberyn, my love...I...every day with you, even our worst days, days we might argue or not agree on everything, are the best days because I have you by my side. You have shown me nothing but love and compassion and...everything since the day we met. I couldn’t ask the gods, the universe, whatever it is, for a better person. I will love you until the end of time, in this lifetime and the next.”

“Those words are pretty good too,” he kissed your forehead, “I mean, they could use a little tweaking, but they’ll do.”

“Oberyn!” you broke into a fit of giggles before clapping your hands in amusement, “very well, my love. You must feel very proud of yourself for that.”

“It’s up there,” he agreed, “but I meant it - every word of it.”

“I know,” you bit your lip and nodded, nuzzling your nose against his, “I know. Why don’t we-”

Before you could say anything else, the sound of a few soft cries met your ears and you both turned to look at the cradle. 

“Go on into bed,” he gave your bum a pat, “I’ll get him settled down.”

“Bring him,” you insisted as you slipped under the soft blankets. Oberyn quickly made his way across the room and had Nym resting again his chest as he made his way back. While you definitely had a way with your son, Oberyn was like a magic charm; no matter how fussy or upset the baby was, he always managed to get him settled down in time. 

“There we are,” he got in next, resting against the headboard as the Nym slept on his warm, tan chest, and you instantly wrapped yourself around him. It was hard to imagine that so much of your heart, so much of your world, was right there, within two people, “alright, Sunshine?”

“Yes,” you promised softly, gently resting a hand on Nym’s back, “I’m perfect.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[trilliastra]

[*drops a sterek fic after two years and runs away to hide*]

-

It’s all Cora’s fault and Derek will remain of the opinion that his life only went downhill the moment his little sister was born.

It starts with Sara, his sister’s friend, whose boyfriend turned out to be a jerk and would not let her inside his apartment to collect her things unless she took him back. And Cora volunteered Derek to help.

Derek didn’t really mind it at first, Sara only needed a guy to look strong (which he is), angry (which he was) and able to carry her stuff from place a to place b (which he did). But some weeks later Sara met a friend with an equally stupid boyfriend and said friend had another friend and then Laura heard about it and it suddenly became a thing.

Georgia, Nelly, Carmen, Lola.

Isaac.

“I could help, you know?” Derek had said after the fifth time he noticed the blossoming purple bruises on the back of Isaac’s neck, his scrapped knuckles. “If you need to get rid of your –” he lowered his voice, “boyfriend.”

Isaac had looked at him, wide eyed, before he confessed he isn’t gay and the problem was actually his dad. “Oh,” Derek had said, thinking for a moment before adding, “I could help with that, too.”

Turns out Derek’s intimidation skills were lacking when compared to his own father’s.

-

“You’re doing a really nice thing, Derek.” Isaac says one night, helping him with his hand. Asshole boyfriend of the night thought he could bag a few punches before letting Phill grab his laptop back. Derek was faster, and stronger.

Isaac moved in with him and Boyd two weeks after his dad was sentenced. He didn’t want to, at first, was still incredibly shy and scared of everything, including Derek, but he opened up to Boyd pretty quickly. Despite his built (and the fact he can bench press three times his own weight), Boyd is the softest person Derek has ever met.

“Sure.” Derek sighs.

“But?” He asks and Derek sighs again, looks away when Boyd walks into the room.

“I had a date.” Derek confesses and Boyd whistles in sympathy.

“How many times has it been, again?”

“Three.” Derek winces when Isaac presses the antiseptic over the cut. “I’m – I really like him.”

“You could just tell him.” Isaac says. “He’s a cool guy, I guess.” He shrugs, smiling. “Sometimes he’s an asshole. But not in a bad way.”

Derek huffs out a laugh. “Yeah.”

Stiles is an asshole, he likes teasing Derek when they are discussing ethics in the workplace and every way capitalism is stepping over immigrants, they banter and they quote books back and forth and while some people (his sisters) roll their eyes when Derek brings up some history fact, Stiles nods along, brings up another history fact that Derek didn’t know (or sometimes pretends not to know, just to hear Stiles talking about it), hands moving around as he explains his point or badmouths a historic figure that owned so much money ‘their great-great-grandkids are still swimming in the gold they stole from the natives’.

Derek is in love.

“What did you tell him this time?” Boyd asks, munching on his chips. He shakes the bag in front of them and while Derek takes a couple, Isaac shakes his head, still not used to being allowed good things.

Some memories are hard to forget.

“That my mom had stopped by to visit.” Derek says. He hates lying, he is not even good at it. The first time he tried to tell Stiles he looked like a wet cat after he got caught up in the rain, white shirt sticking to his chest, Derek’s cheeks had gotten so red, Stiles asked him if he was okay.

“Dude.” Isaac says, shaking his head in disappointment as he finishes bandaging Derek’s hand.

“I know.” Derek gives back, collapsing on his bed with a groan.

This is all Cora’s fault.

-

Okay. Stiles texts back when Derek has to postpone their date again. Derek can feel the disappointment through the message, mirroring his own feelings.

How about tomorrow night? Derek tries, stares at his phone for minutes until he realizes Stiles probably won’t text him back.

-

“Please.” Maria says, holding her cat with a bright smile as they talk in front of a coffee shop. She is trying to convince him to accept a coffee and Derek is trying to convince her he doesn’t need it. “How can I thank you?”

Derek sighs. “I didn’t do anything.” And it is true, her boyfriend wasn’t working when they arrived at the coffee shop and when they opened the door of the apartment upstairs, it was empty save for the cat that Maria is currently hugging.

“You were there for me.” She smiles, tucking her hair behind her ear and Derek already knows what’s coming.

It’s not the first time, probably won’t be the last. He has been invited for ‘thank you’ coffees, dinners, sex. It never felt right, though. Not with the guys, and especially not with the girls.

Sorry. He always says. Some of them are attractive, he supposes, but he was, and still is, very much gay.

“I’m—” he starts, but Maria’s eyes widen and when Derek turns around, a guy is stalking towards them, eyebrows furrowed in anger.

“You bitch!” He shouts, startling most of the costumers inside and the shop and the people walking around the street. “What are you doing?”

“Taking my cat back!” She yells back and Derek steps closer, eyeing the guy’s fists as he starts to shake with anger.

The guy notices his move and turns his glare to him. “And who the fuck are you?”

Before Derek can answer, Maria chimes in. “My boyfriend.”

“What the fuck?” It takes Derek a second to realize the words didn’t come from him, but from someone in the crowd, one of the onlookers that gathered around them to watch the scene unfold.

Two seconds after that, Derek realizes the person talking was Stiles.

-

That explains a lot. It’s the last message Stiles sends him before blocking his number.

Derek tries to call, talk to him after class, but his friends keep him away, Lydia going as far as brandishing a can of pepper spray in front of him, eyes shining with an unspoken threat.

“You should follow him to his dorm.” Isaac offers, weakly.

“Creeps do that.” Derek says. “I don’t want to be more of an asshole than I already am.”

“You’re not an asshole.” Isaac says, clasping his shoulder in sympathy. “I could – talk to him? If you want?” The offer makes Derek smile, touched. Isaac is still extremely shy in front of strangers, but just the fact that he considered doing it for him is enough.

“It’s fine.” Derek says. It isn’t fine, and they both know it, but he will pull through. Eventually. “It wasn’t meant to be.”

-

It’s harder that Derek anticipated, seeing Stiles during classes and not being able to talk to him, to tease him when Mrs. Schilder glares at him for using a pun that makes the entire room burst out laughing from second-hand embarrassment.

He is beautiful, Derek thinks at least ten times a day, and smart and kind and funny and Derek could see them being together for a long time, falling deeper in love as the time passes.

He should be used to not having good things. He grew up as a middle child, as a gay teenager in a small town where some boys were so far deep in the closet, they couldn’t find their way out, he should be used to not keeping the things he likes.

So why does it hurt so much?

-

“Derek—”

“No.”

“She needs—”

“Call someone else.”

“You are really going to leave her—”

Derek slams his book shut, kicks his chair back as he stands up. Cora’s eyes widen when someone tells him to be quiet and Derek simply ignores them. “I need to study for a test. Call someone else.”

Helping someone should feel good, it should make him happy, not feel like a burden. He is more than an angry guy with a strong body. He doesn’t even like confrontation. He started working out to burn his energy, to let out some of this anger that he’s been constantly carrying inside and he kept working out because he enjoyed it and now – now even that is ruined.

“Why are you being so selfish?” She asks and Derek knows, deep inside, that she doesn’t mean it like that, that she’s just as angry as him, humiliated by the fact he’s calling her out in the middle of the library. Still, that doesn’t matter now. Now, Derek is angry and sad and done.

“Fuck you.” He says and walks away.

-

His initial plan was to make it to his apartment, bury himself under the covers and not leave his room until his mother comes to give him an earful. Because she will, undoubtedly, when Cora tells her about it.

But Derek doesn’t make it to his apartment, he doesn’t even make it outside the library, simply makes a u-turn and heads for the dark zone, a space under the stairs leading to the storeroom where couples usually go to make out. There, he collapses on the ground, taking deep breaths, and buries his face in his hands.

This has been a long time coming, he thinks. He’s been on the edge for a while. This entire experience has made him remember how awful it was to pretend to be someone he wasn’t, to be only liked for his body or for his ability to pass the answers to the test without the teacher seeing him.

Some memories are hard to forget.

“Are you okay?” Derek flinches, surprised to hear Stiles’ voice. “Oh,” Stiles whispers, noticing Derek’s red eyes, the tears streaming down his face, “bad day, huh?”

“She was not my girlfriend.” Derek blurts out, head a mess of emotions: fear, anger, loneliness, regret.

“Dude,” Stiles frowns, confused, “I know Cora is your sister.”

“No.” Derek shakes his head, frantic. “The other day, at the coffee shop. I was helping her with her ex-boyfriend, I do that sometimes. He— he was an asshole and she needed help getting her cat back and I look strong and I know how to –”

“Woah, woah, slow down.” Stiles raises his hands, alarmed, and Derek realizes his own hands are shaking and he can’t breathe. “In and out,” Stiles whispers, “can I—can I touch you?”

Derek shakes his head, focusing on his breath. Panic attack, he remembers, suffocating. No touching. “Okay,” Stiles agrees, easily, “should I keep talking?” Derek shakes his head again, keeps his eyes on his hands. Talking is too much, listening is too much, breathing is too much. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No.” Derek manages to gasp. He doesn’t want to be alone.

Stiles nods, leans against the wall next to Derek and starts fiddling with his shoelaces, twirling them around wordlessly. Derek doesn’t know how much time it passes, but he keeps watching Stiles’ fingers moving distractedly, patiently waiting for him. With him.

“I’m sorry.” Derek manages to say, eventually.

Stiles sighs. “I know.” He closes his own eyes before turning to Derek. “You don’t have to explain.”

“I—” Derek swallows heavily, “have to.” He answers, before shaking his head. No, that doesn’t sound right, “no, I—I want to.”

-

They leave the library together, Stiles standing up first and offering his hand to help Derek up. Stiles doesn’t let go as they walk towards Derek’s apartment, squeezes his hand from time to time as Derek tells him about everything.

“You could have told me.” Stiles notes.

“I don’t know why I didn’t.” Derek confesses. “I guess I didn’t want you to see me as that guy too. Beefy Derek.” He laughs, humorless. “That’s the nickname my sister came up with a few months ago.”

Stiles groans, stops walking, forcing Derek to stop as well. “You are so much more than that.” He assures, touching Derek’s face softly though his eyes shine with certainty. “I love your brain, your cute jokes, the fact that you get my stupid history facts because you like history just as much as I do, and especially the way you care so much. College, people, the world.” He pulls him in for a quick, assertive kiss, and Derek immediately feels so light he could fly. But he won’t, because Stiles is keeping him grounded by the softest touch, the smallest smile.

“Cute jokes?” He manages to ask, arching an eyebrow. When Stiles laughs, he smiles.

“They are.” He insists.

“Okay.” Derek accepts the words easily, because everything seems easy when it comes to Stiles. “If I ask you out on a new date,” he says, “will Lydia pepper spray me?”

“I will stop her.” Stiles reassures, squeezing his hand again. “But before,” he adds and Derek feels his stomach turning with anticipation, “you have to know that I kind of hate your sister right now.”

“Oh.” Derek says. “Okay, I can—I can see that.”

“I’m sorry.” Stiles says, though he doesn’t sound sorry at all.

“Me too.” Derek agrees.

-

When Derek tells him about Cora’s apology and the earful his sister got from their mom, Stiles excuses himself to go laugh in the bathroom while Derek shrugs and goes back to eating his share of the pizza.

By the time they get married, Stiles and Cora have become best friends. Derek hates it (he doesn’t).

[rhysismydaddy]

Casual Ruin pt. 4 (Elriel)

Elain’s part of the Damnation Series

~Elain~

“Bless me Father, for I have sinned.” 

That’s what I’m supposed to say, right? That’s what they say in movies, I think. Does it count if it isn’t in Italian?

I rub a hand across my forehead, shaking my head at myself. I’m not even religious. I haven’t been to church since I grew out of the pastel pink Easter dress my mother used to love forcing me into.

Yet here I am, sitting in a dark, hot box, attempting to confess my sins.

I think I’m losing it. 

Five days with no Azriel, and I’m turning to religion.

The dark shadow on the other side of the confessional doesn’t help me in the slightest or even tell me if I’m doing this right. He just sits in silence and waits for me to pour my heart and soul out.

So I say, in an embarrassingly shaky tone, “Well, I... I’ve been sleeping with someone.”

That gets me a low hm.

“Someone I shouldn’t have.” Before he can get the wrong idea, I blurt, “He’s not married or anything. At least, I don’t think so. God, what if he’s married? Oh, I probably shouldn’t say God’s name in vain in church. Sorry.”

Father gives a deep sigh, and I take that to mean I should hurry up. “Anyway, he’s just... not a good guy. I won’t confess his sins for him, but believe me, he’s committed his fair share.”

Still nothing. 

I think he’s waiting for the actual confession part of this thing.

So I say the words I’ve been trying to fight for the last five days. “I told him I don’t want to see him anymore, but I don’t think... I don’t think that’s really true.”

Another hm, this time more thoughtful. 

“I keep thinking about him, all the time. Even though I know it’s wrong. He’s like a tumor.”

There’s a huff, like he’s amused. 

“I’m worried I’m not a good enough person to say away from him,” I murmur quietly, which is the understatement of the century. 

I know I’m not, which is why I’m here. 

I’m pre-confessing, because if the way Azriel’s been on my mind the past couple of days is any indication, it’s only a matter of time before I get desperate enough to call him and tell him his... occupation doesn’t change things.

There’s a bit of a pause, like he doesn’t know how to reply, and then for the first time, I get an actual response. In a very thick, very German accent, the... priest? replies, “His sins are not yours.”

He’s taking the stance opposite of what I thought he would, but that’s a good point. Good enough I don’t bother asking myself why a German priest is in an Italian church.

“True, but if I stay with him, aren’t I condoning them? Don’t they become mine?”

“His sins are not yours,” he repeats.

Helpful.

I’m about to ask for a little bit of actual advice when he asks, “Do you regret it?”

“No,” I answer almost immediately, knowing that no matter how much I hate what Azriel does, I could never regret the time I spent with him.

He’s silent, probably thinking of my punishment for being such a scheming harlot.

I’ll likely have to do a million hail Mary’s once this conversation is over.

But instead of telling me I’m going to hell, he surprises me by asking, “So you plan to sleep with him again?”

There was something familiar about the tone of his voice, but I don’t know anyone German, so I don’t ponder it for long. His question doesn’t require pondering, either.

“No,” I answered with fake certainty, even though the thought of never having Azriel’s calloused hands all over me makes me unspeakably sad.

“Are you sure? Forgiveness from the Lord requires... repentance.”

I sigh at that, hesitating even though I shouldn’t. “I’m sure. No matter how much I want to or think about it, I can’t.”

“I think you should.”

My mouth drops open, not only because the words he just said or the sudden disappearance of his accent, but because the screen separating me from the man on the other side of the confessional drops, revealing the bane of all my problems.

Azriel sticks a cigarette between his full lips, lights it casually, and smiles the devil’s smile. 

“What the hell are you doing in here?” I demand, barely resisting the urge to fling myself over to his side and strangle him.

“Listening to a very insincere confession.” Even though I narrow my eyes in the most threatening gesture I can make, he continues, “You know, if you feel like you need punishing, I can always take you over my knee.”

A strange tingle shoots through me and makes my spin straighten, but I ignore it and glare at him harder.

“You shouldn’t be here.” I look him over, ignoring how good it is to see him and asking, “Aren’t you worried you’re going to catch on fire?”

He grins, blowing smoke around him. “If I’m the devil, does that make you my angel?”

“I’m not your anything.”

He just watches me and smokes his cigarette, something I’m sure is frowned upon in church. Probably right beneath sneaking into a private confessional. 

“Are you even religious?”

My lips twitch as I lie and say, “Recently converted.”

Azriel braces his arms in the small hole of the wall between us, looking unconvinced. “Yeah? What are the Ten Commandments?”

My head tilts as my eyes narrow. “I don’t know them all, but I have to believe one is about not killing people.”

“Number six,” he tells me, surprising me with the fact that he knows that. “You know, there’s also one about not stealing. And I happen to know for a fact you stole my sunglasses that day we were on the beach.”

Comparing those two sins is so ridiculous, a laugh bubbles out of me. He killed someone, yet by his logic I’m just as bad a sinner.

I knew this religion thing wasn’t for me.

“Why are you here, Azriel?” I ask, trying to get back to normal footing.

He takes so long to respond, I’m almost convinced he isn’t even going to bother. He runs a hand across his jaw, through his hair. Looks around at the plain little booth. Smokes some more.

When I’m about to give up and just leave, he says quietly, “I can’t stop thinking about you, either.”

My heart starts to pick up pace. “Yeah?”

I know I shouldn’t encourage this conversation, but hearing that he thinks about me the way I think about him... it means something to me.

“Yeah,” he agrees after a few moments, reaching out to tuck my hair behind my ear. 

It falls silent, and something grows in the silence, building between us until all I’m aware of are the small sweeps of his thumb against my cheekbone. 

I don’t know if he pulls me forward or if I take the step myself, but suddenly I’m right in front of him, our faces lined up through the small hole in the wall.

There’s a Bible in a little cubby that’s pressing into my stomach, and I’m sure there’s no better sign to resist sin than literal scripture digging into you, but I can’t bring myself to care.

It’s been less than a week without him, but it’s like my body is touched starved. The single inch where we’re connected is a live wire, and I close my eyes, trying to figure out what we were even talking about.

Releasing a tense breath that sounds a whole lot like relief, he slides his hand to the nape of my neck and leans his head to rest against mine. 

“Fuck,” he says, like it’s an all-encompassing statement and not a single word. “Come back to me, carro.”

He smells like rain and smoke and something dangerous I never understood until now, and it’s so intoxicating I almost lose myself. Brushing my nose against his, I breathe him in over and over, never getting used to it. “You want me?”

A nod, so small it’s almost imperceptible. But it’s there, and we both know it. 

Making sure my lips brush his, I lean in and whisper, “Then beg for me.”

He goes still, tension coming to rest in the hands still gripping my nape.

See, I realized something in the five days since I last saw him. 

He wants me to say that him being in the mafia doesn’t change anything, confess to lying about it in the first place, and beg him to fuck me, yet hasn’t even apologized for lying to me in the first place.

Sure, I lied, but he got us in this mess, not me.

So he gets to beg.

Azriel pulls back, and there’s such dark depths in his eyes that I shiver. “What did you just say?”

I don’t respond, because I don’t need to. We both know he heard me. 

He releases me with a huff, stepping back and practically growling, “No.”

Raising an eyebrow, I challenge, “Why is it different? You want me to confess to lying about saying that what you do changes things? Fine. I confess, Azriel. I have feelings for you that, whether or not I like it, outweigh the moral part of me that tells me to run in the opposite direction.”

Despite how casually I say it, that realization almost breaks me to admit. 

I realized it when he popped up in this booth, looking every bit the villain and completely making my day. Wrong or not, he makes me happy.

“You have my confession, but you know what? I want yours.”

He shakes his head, seeming to not understand, so I elaborate. “I want you to actually apologize for lying to me. I want you to admit that you put me in an impossible situation, then acted like it wasn’t a big deal. And I want you to beg for my forgiveness.”

The muscles in his jaw are clenched so hard I don’t think he can even open his mouth, but he manages to say, “That will never happen.”

Something inside my chest collapses, so suddenly and painfully I can’t hardly breathe. I hadn’t realized how much I needed it until now, how much it actually meant to me. 

The fact that he won’t make that compromise for me threatens to send my emotions scattering, so I stiffen my spine and force the words out.

“Then we’re done.”

He smacks a hand against the wall of the booth but doesn’t say anything, not even as I fling open the door and flee. 

I rush through the thankfully empty pews and outside, right into a downpour. 

The urge to laugh rises as I become instantly soaked, my dress sticking to me and my hair flattening to my head. It isn’t funny, and would be considered normal any other time or place, but we’ve had a month of paradise without a single rainy day. 

Until right now. It’s almost like the sky’s mood matches mine. 

Practically running, I make my way towards the townhouse. At least it’s close, I think as I hurry. If it was far away I’d probably collapse in a side alley and just let the rain wash me away. 

When I reach the door, unlocking it in a hurry, I feel someone walk up behind me. Stepping inside, I turn to see Azriel staring down at me.

Rain washes over the planes of his face, and while I probably look like a wet rat, he looks like something out of a movie.

"Why do you need this?” he asks, the anger thick in his voice. 

“Why do you?”

He doesn’t make a move to come in, practically ignoring the rain as he asks in a dry tone, “You mean why do I need to hear that what I do and have done--that this fucking life I was forced into--doesn’t make me a monster?”

“Azriel-”

“Because you’re the one person in this entire goddamn world who knows me.”

I give him a look that conveys how little I believe that. 

I don’t know anything about him. That’s the problem.

He shakes his head. “You know who I could’ve been, Elain.” 

It’s my turn to shake my head, because I don’t understand.

He seems to make the decision of whether or not to tell me at once, saying, “Who I could’ve been if I hadn’t been born into a sadistic fucking family who beat the shit out of me for existing.”

Raw anguish lines his voice, and I stop breathing, stop thinking. 

“You know who I wanted to be, who I dreamed of being, when I was in the hospital with a fractured skull or in lockup for stealing a car to run away.” He throws a hand out, yelling, “I didn’t ask for this shit! I wanted to be who I am with you. But when someone came and said they could get me out of the life I knew would kill me, I fucking said yes. And I don’t regret it.”

Tears are streaming down my face, mixing with the rain bouncing off the door. I never knew. “Azriel...”

“The day my older brother took a hammer to my hands because I scratched his CD was the last time I apologized. And I haven’t begged for anything since I was old enough to know better.”

There’s a set to his jaw, a hardness in his body I’ve never seen. “But none of this shit even matters, and it isn’t an excuse, because you’re right.”

The rain comes somehow harder, almost drowning us, but I’m rooted to this spot.

Especially as Azriel slowly lowers himself to his knees, right there on the threshold of the door. 

“I’m sorry, Elain. I’m sorry I lied to you and put you in this position and acted like an ass about it. I’m so fucking sorry.”

I shake my head again, whispering, “Stop.”

I can’t bear for him to be like this after hearing what he said, can’t bear to be the reason for the strain in his voice.

He doesn’t listen. Just looks up at me with such open, deep eyes I almost choke. “Please.”

A sob escapes me as I make the decision instantly, falling to my knees and throwing myself at him.

He grunts as we collide, but I capture the sound with my mouth, seeming to take him off guard as I kiss him without abandon.

His hair is like wet silk between my fingers, and I realize the door’s still open and that rain is still getting everywhere, but I don’t care about anything but him.

His hands grip my waist, holding me steady, as I kiss him until I’m breathless, until I know he’ll believe me. 

“You’re not a monster,” I tell him, pulling back to palm either side of his face. “I know you, and I know you’re not a monster.”

He leans in again, but I keep going, knowing that he needs to hear this as much as I need to say it.

“I decided before I saw you today that what you do doesn’t change things for me. I just want you.” 

The knowledge of how deep we’re in this settles between us, growing into something undeniable as we stare at each other.

This time, when he kisses me again, I don’t stop him.

We fall over, him landing on top of me, and roll until we’re far enough inside that he can kick the door closed.

It’s silent besides the sound of our breathing, the rain pounding against the windows, and the deep, wet slide of our mouths coming together.

I tug at the hem of his shirt, and he pulls back long enough to rip it off. His skin’s hot compared to the cool water all over us, and I’m dizzy on the feel of him. I feel like I can’t get enough, can’t have him fast enough.

His hands are rough against me, tilting my head where he wants it, gripping my hips, putting my arms above my head.

Reaching between us, he fists the thin fabric of my dress, and then there’s a ripping sound I don’t even care to protest because now his skin’s against mine, and I don’t think anything has felt better.

A thumb on my jaw pushes my head to the side, and then his mouth is on my neck and he’s kissing me over the spot where my pulse flutters as proof of my pounding heart. 

I tug his belt open, and he toes his boots off, pulling back to finish getting rid of his jeans then settling back over me.

I tilt my hips up, not able to take the wait anymore, but he has more self control, taking the time to kiss my throat, my jaw, the tip of my nose.

“Please,” I beg. “I need you. Please, Azriel.”

He’s inside me with the next breath, filling me so deeply I can’t think. 

“Merda,” he curses, forehead dropping to mine. “Questa figa e stata fatta per me.”

The dirty words just make me burn hotter. 

Or maybe it’s the fact that I have one of the most dangerous men in the world between my thighs, waxing poetic about sex with me.

His teeth tug on my earlobe, and I arch up into him, making him sink deeper in me. 

“Dimmi- shit,” Azriel chuckles, almost like he didn’t realize he wasn’t speaking English. “Tell me if it’s too much.”

Knowing that won’t happen, I nod and open my mouth to ask him to hurry up with it.

But I never get the chance, because the next second, he’s pulling out and slamming into me so hard I slide across the floor. I don’t get far, because one arm goes under my head to grip my shoulder and the other lifts my leg to keep it in place. 

And then he starts to move.

His hips hit mine hard enough to bruise, his mouth is demanding against mine, and his grip on my shoulder is unshakeable. It’s rough and restrictive and something I never knew I needed.

He’s turned me into this wanton, thoughtless thing, and all I can do is burn and burn and pray I survive. 

A moan escapes me with every thrust, almost like he’s pushing them out of me, and I know I’m loud enough the sweet old lady next door will hear, but I can’t stop. 

“You have to be quiet, or this’ll be over before I’m ready,” he warns in a breathy voice that makes it even harder to keep quiet.

It gets worse as he starts to repeatedly hit the spot only he’s been able to find, like he’s in perfect sync with my body. 

“Fuck, Azriel,” I moan, losing my mind at how good he feels against me. 

I try to fight it off, try to prolong this longer, but one of his hands slips to my throat. And as he lightly squeezes the sides, the blood rushes through me in a heady current, I come so hard I almost pass out.

Shaking beneath him, I release a loud moan he covers my mouth to stifle. When he pulls it away, I see slight indentations and realize I must’ve bit him. 

I make a note to apologize later. Even if the way his eyes go almost black tells me he isn’t mad about it. 

I’m almost comatose, but he isn’t even finished. He just grits his teeth, pauses to throw my leg over his shoulder, and keeps going.

My hands grip his shoulders, nails digging into his skin and trying to keep him exactly where he is, doing exactly what he’s doing.

Thunder breaks outside, but it isn’t loud enough to mask the sound of us coming together or the moans he’s no longer masking.

Despite my body being sensitized and exhaused, when he cups my cheek, kisses me softly, and says, “Come with me,” I do.

He groans, hips churning messily against mine, as release finds us both. My legs shake, squeeze his waist like a vice, then go limp. 

All of me does, actually. I’m boneless and pliant and couldn’t move if I was paid to.

Azriel isn’t much better off, collapsing on top of me and suffocating me with his warm weight. 

“Holy shit,” I whisper after a moment, smiling at the amused huff he lets out. 

Air starts to become hard to find, so he rolls off me, then sits to lean his back against the door.

“We’re on the floor,” he says, almost like he didn’t even notice before now.

I shrug, not caring in the slightest. “I can’t move, so we’re going to have to stay here.”

He chuckles, something entirely male in his eyes as he looks at me. My cheeks grow warm as he looks at the complete mess at apex of my thighs and murmurs, “Fuck, that’s pretty.”

“You are so inappropriate,” I mumble, covering my face with my hands.

Nodding his agreement, he grips my hips and practically drags me on top of him. “You like it, though,” he teases, putting a sweet kiss to my lips. 

“I do,” I admit, kissing him again. 

Something brushes against my thigh, and I look down between us, then raise a brow. I knew he had stamina, but this is...

“Consider it making up for lost time.”

A laugh bubbles out of me, and he smiles, one of those full, beautiful smiles I’m helpless to resist. 

I know everything’s complicated now and I know he does horrible things, but when he smiles at me like that, it’s hard to care about anything except how happy he makes me. Right or wrong, good or bad, there’s something between us I’m powerless against. 

“It’s been five days,” I remind him, running my hands up his chest and into his hair. “Better get started.”

~

The floor. The wall. The stairs. The shower.

He gives me a tour of my own house, fucking me on every inch of available space. 

I’m just as much to blame, I guess. Any time he tries to do anything besides me, I tug him back, unable to stop myself. 

He’s the drug I’m happily overdosing on, and fuck, does it feel good.

When we finally end up in bed hours later, I expect to immediately pass out. He definitely looks tired, and I’m sure I’m not much better, considering the amount of... activity my body’s been through tonight.

But despite the lingering exhaustion, we lay there, just looking at each other.

There’s still so much left unsaid, so many unanswered questions and untold stories, but I don’t want to ruin the moment by talking, much less asking questions, so I stay quiet.

His lips twitch, almost like he can see what I’m thinking.

“I’ll tell you anything you want to know,” he murmurs a second later, proving that thought correct. “I won’t lie to you again.”

I nod, thinking of what I want to ask first. 

I also think about the pain in his eyes earlier, when he gave me that piece of himself. I don’t ever want to be the cause of that pain, so I ask something I assume is unrelated. 

“Who was the man I hit with the wine bottle?”

The corner of his lips tip up. “That was Luca. I guess you could say he’s my friend, but more officially he’s my Underboss. We worked our way up through the ranks together.”

“You’ve known him a long time then?”

He nods, propping his head up with an arm. “We were in prison together.”

Questions bloom, but I don’t want to pry, so-

“I was sentenced to three years for grand theft auto and another for assaulting the cop who booked me. Luca was in for intent to sell.” 

At my blank look, he says, “Drugs, Elain.”

“Oh.” I feel stupid as hell, so I deflect by asking, “You were cellmates?”

“No,” he laughs, running a hand over his jaw thoughtfully. “But after he saved my ass from getting jumped one day, we stuck together.”

It’s quiet until I ask, “How’d you get out?”

“Well, this was in Chicago-” 

My eyes grow wide as I cut him off. “You’re from Chicago? You’re American?” 

He laughs at the disbelief in my voice, nodding while my brain explodes. He’d never told me, but I’d just assumed he was born in Sicily. 

“Anyway, this was in Chicago. I was seventeen, but got tried as an adult because of my record with juvie. I spent two years inside, then the Capo there just showed up one day and told me he could get me out.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah,” he says, rolling on his back and looking up at the ceiling. “I remember it like it happened yesterday. He’s only three years older than me, but he was wearing a two-thousand dollar suit and had everything I didn’t. He said he needed someone to work for him, to do the shit no one wanted to.”

Sliding closer, I prop my head up with a hand. “And that was you?”

“He said he looked at my records and that I had potential.” He laughs, almost unbelieving. “I was nothing more than an angry fuckup from the south side, and he said I had potential. He said he knew who my father and brothers were and could help me get revenge. I knew it was crazy, but I said yes. On the condition Luca got out, too.”

My eyebrows go up as he says, “We were out the next day.”

“Powerful friends,” I mutter. 

He toys with the ends of my hair, slight smile on his face.

“I worked in Chicago for about a year, then was sent here. He said he needed someone over here he could trust. My family’s Italian, so I knew the language, and with my baggage, I wanted out of the city anyway.” He takes a deep breath, running his hand down my arm. “So I moved here and worked my way up.”

He picks my hand up, measuring the difference between our palms.

“And now you’re Capo.”

“Mmhm.” 

Tugging my hand, he pulls me closer, burying his head in my neck and inhaling. 

“I have the Capo of the Sicilian Mafia in my bed,” I remark almost unbelievingly, making him laugh.

He shifts to lay down, holding me in his arms, and I marvel at how small and delicate I feel with him. My head’s against his chest, and he’s curled around me, making me sigh. 

“The Capo is a snuggler,” I murmur, running my hands across the smooth expanse of his back and smiling when he makes a low sound of contentment.

“I haven’t slept the past five days,” he tells me. “I couldn’t sleep without you in my bed. You have no idea how much it pissed me off at the time.”

Laughing, I snuggle closer. He’s so big and warm, and I’m so tired. 

Eyes struggling to stay open, I realize I never told him something. 

“You’re forgiven,” I whisper. 

I feel his lips on my brow, kissing me so gently my heart clenches. And I swear I hear him say something, but I’m soo tired to stay awake to hear it.

I fall asleep in his arms, and even though he’s dangerous and everything I should hate, it’s the most peaceful I’ve ever felt.

I’ve said the past month with him has felt like a fairy tale, and that’s true. 

Maybe just not with the knight in shining armor, but with the villain instead.

______________________________________________

stole a couple lines from Danielle Lori

Part 5

@elorcan-trash @acreativelydifferentlove @loosingdreams @poisonous00 @januarystears @emikadreams @swankii-art-teacher @thedarkdemigod​ @full-tilt-diva​ @biggestwingspan-az​ @bookstantrash​ @mari-highladyof-feels​ @pilesofriles​ @teddytdr​ @perseusannabeth​ @cursebreaker29​ @a-bit-of-a-cactus​ @elriel4life​ @girl-who-reads-the-books​ @shinya-hiiragi​ @bamchickawowow​ @live-the-fangirl-life​ @ireallyshouldsleeprn​ @highqueenofelfhame​ @autophobiax​ @rowaelinismyotp​ @nahthanks​ @ghostlyrose2​ @lovemollywho​ @inardour​ @tillyrubes10​ @tswaney17​ @greerlunna​ @rowanisahunk​ @superspiritfestival​ @thegoddessofyou​ @awesomelena555​ @booksofthemoon​ @jlinez​ @studyliketate​ @over300books​ @justgiu12​ @maastrash​ @aesthetics-11​ @b00kworm​ @sleeping-and-books​ @musicmaam​ @hizqueen4life​ @maybekindasortaace​

[artzychic27]

@sweetmilkshaketale

Let’s see how one of our favorite couples reacts to the Artists

Before Marinette came along, Alya was friends with Lila

Yes, it was great. The girl had amazing stories lies to tell everyday and went on some cool adventures stayed at home despite her disabilities, but sometimes Alya just felt like a side character (Honey, you’re not)

Plus, the classes got a little boring in her opinion; she was looking for something new an exciting, not that Lila’s stories weren’t cool... But when is she going to introduce her to Majestia?

Then, Marinette Artist came along with her braids full of spiders and a scowl that had Ivan crying

Lili, the class representative tried introducing herself and went on about herself as usual. Marinette told her with the coldest voice ever to shut her mouth.

Lila wordlessly (for once) sat down in her seat and sobbed to Alya about how “horrible and rude” the new girl and her siblings were (even though the others didn’t do anything... yet)

Because of that, Alya doesn’t really like the Artists. No one hurts her bestie like that.

This goes on for a while. Alya creates Miraculous Media and Lila gives her a bunch of fake stories about the heroes, Volpina after incident at the park, Lila works as a model and is terrible at it, and she secretly works with Hawkmoth

Marinette: Lila Lila pants on fire...

When Alya goes to confront Marinette about how she’s been harassing Lila since she came here, she gives it to her straight

Marinette: She’s shrill, loud, rambles too much, I hate that Jacket, her hair makes me sick, she’s clearly a social climber leeching off all of you and my friends, she’s harassing your blonde friend, she tried to threaten me last week which ended horribly for her, and she’s a sloppy liar.

Alya: N... No, she’s not a liar!

Marinette: She said the bat hero’s name was Bat Girl when her name is Nocturna, and that Jaws and Lerna were dating.

Alya: She has problems with her memory. But she’s not a liar, and she’s really nice if you get to know her. She’s offered to introduce you and your friends to some macabre artists.

Marinette: How convenient. She knows what we like and immediately knows someone who works in that field. Happens a lot doesn’t it? *Alya’s speechless* Alya. As much as I enjoy discord, she’s just too much. I detest liars and if you do not do something about Rossi, I will.

Reluctantly, Alya looks up Lila’s lies and tells everyone in class

Lila’s now a pariah, but somehow still keeps her modeling job because Gabriel needs someone to spy on his son and cause Akumas

Later, Marc and Nathaniel give Adrien a lesson about consent that his own father never gave him

Nathaniel: Monochrome, may I kiss your freezing cold arm as I pray for death by hypothermia?

Marc: Be my guest. *Holds his arm out*

Nathaniel: *Kisses Marc’s arm*

Adrien: ... I think I get it now.

Thankful that she’s no longer friends with Lie-La, Alya now wants to be Marinette’s friend. She’s creepy, but kinda cool.

Alya: You and your friends wanna come to the mall with us?

Marinette: Oh, I haven’t gone to a good mauling in a while.

Alya knows she’s serious about the stuff she says, but doesn’t mind. Plus, she, Alix, Rose, and Juleka know how to keep the real creeps away with their not so empty threats

Nino then proposes that Nathaniel hangs out with him and the other guys since he’s also a member of the class now.

Nathaniel: We’re going to be hanging? Damn, I left my noose at home.

Nathaniel of course, brings Marc, because an hour without each other is enough for one eternity.

Guys nights will never be the same ever again. Turns out Alix isn’t the only one who likes breaking laws

Long story short, Nathaniel stole a police car and everyone nearly drowned in the Seine while Marc and Nathaniel made passionate love under water

The guys know they should be horrified and separate themselves from the insane couple immediately, but that was such a rush. They’re still shaking

Adrien later confesses that he’s in love with Marinette to Nathaniel. Alya overhears, gets excited, and goes to tell her new bestie

Adrien: So, what should I do? What does she like?

Nathaniel: Hunt a wild animal, kill it, give her its pelt. Juleka did the same with Rose a few weeks after they first met at a funeral, and the two have been inseparable.

Adrien of course doesn’t kill an animal. Instead, Marinette hides spiders and dead roses in his backpack. He’s strangely aroused, much to Lila’s anger.

Kim: That aside, you should totally take her out! *Cuts Nathaniel off* Not with a hatchet!

Even though their relationship is a little... Off, Nino, Ivan, and Kim go to Marc and Nathaniel for dating advice for him and their girlfriends since it seems to work for Adrien. Yesterday, Marinette took him to a funeral

They teach them how to tango

Even after being exposed, Lila still harasses Adrien. Nino, of course, hates that and blames Gabriel. He takes a page out of the Artist’s book and goes to war on his ass.

He joins the Artists in turning Adrien goth and gets a sick thrill when he hears that Gabriel fainted

Nino: Yes. The more you faint, the weaker I know you’re getting. Your time is coming Gabriel, and I shall dance as you rot in the dirt.

The Artists find his passion for wanting Gabriel to suffer very impressive

The girls join in, too and help out with starting the cyber goth trend

Lila gets exposed, Gabriel faints again, and Nino buys a coffin just for him

[amethystpath-writes]

P3 A Girl on the Battlefield

Continuation of this!

Tag list: @chaoticgoodandi @moose-teeth @for-the-love-of-angst @kemonoinuzuka @tears-and-lilies @whatwhumpcomments

(NOT A PR0MPT)

******

Mistake. Mistake. Mistake. This was all the princess could think about as she sprinted down the hall, down the stairs. She passed guard after guard and began to think she was dreaming as they all stood still, heads simply turning as she ran by them. They watched; they didn’t chase.

They had to have heard her bicker with their prince, the Billiard Son. So why did they do nothing? That wasn’t a guard’s duty. Their duty was to protect the kingdom.

Maybe that was why. Their duty was to protect, and Shiya wasn’t someone the kingdom needed protecting from. She was the uselessly daggered girl on a battlefield, the one that was picked up and carried away to her greatest enemy’s kingdom.

She stopped, in the middle of a hall- which seemed to have no end- with a thought. Amid her escape from the prince, she forgot the reason she was even here, in the Billiard King’s land: her brother was in battle. And he was here, somewhere. Shiya needed to find him…but where? She knew nothing about this kingdom except for the scary stories her father would tell to make herself and Rius behave at bedtime.

Where is he? Not Zypherius- though him, too. No, she meant the prince- Aldis. Because, surely, he was on her heels, furious with the green dagger in his side. I should have ripped the blade out- let him bleed out.

What a violent thought from such a little girl. What a violent thought from a girl who climbed apple trees, only to have one thrown at her by her brother unprompted. It happened often enough that Shiya should have learned to expect it every time- should have known the outcome well enough to stop bringing a book- which was always dropped in the mud, ruined.

A scraping stole Shiya’s attention. The sound was shrill and the princess practically whimpered. That couldn’t be Aldis catching up to her already, could it be? He should have been crippled, unable to walk because he was unable to breathe.

“I just want my brother,” she said, her voice raspy from all the running and crying. “If you let me see him, I…I promise to return home without a word. There would be no war from Stinemarch, no vengeances from my father. He would- he would appreciate my safe return and look the other way.”

The laugh which responded wasn’t the prince’s. It was older, colder, and impossibly more amused, as if they knew to expect Shiya’s pleas and promises. “You think you are in a position to negotiate freedom? You are lucky to still be alive.”

Shiya was frozen in her place. “Are you the captain?” It was the same voice- the one from the battlefield Shiya was sprawled out on before being brought here. She heard Aldis, telling the captain she was alive. He’d wanted to kill her; she remembered hearing it briefly. Focusing on what their words meant required so much effort that she couldn’t remember why they decided to keep her, besides to obviously torture her.

“Captain, Commander, General, Great Lord, Billiard King…the titles are all the same here.”

The Billiard King.

No. No, that wasn’t right. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be because he was a myth, a story, a falsity created by the princess’ father to scare her. That was all.

“Most people pass out when they hear the last one. I suppose your quaking is enough of a response.”

“You can let my brother and I go.” Shiya swallowed. She was speaking to a captain of the Billiard King, she told herself. Because if it were the Billiard King, the princess would have passed out just as the captain man suggested. “No word will be spoken of our capture. I can tell my father I poisoned my brother’s cup and-”

“And what?” That scraping sounded again. It was coming closer, and closer to Shiya. “You dragged him into the woods to make it look like he still went to battle? Ran into a bear and that’s why you both have scarred gashes on your delicate skins?”

What a terrible way to refer to someone’s body. Skins, as if Shiya and Zypherius were meant to be hunted like rabbits amongst dogs.

Wait. He didn’t deny that Rius was alive and able to be taken home.

The princess spun on a heel, her breath and courage regained. She faced the captain. “My brother is alive?”

“I do not recall saying that-”

“You didn’t not say it.” Her voice was confident for the first time since entering the Land of the Wicked.

Another chuckle followed, one dry and callous. “Such a small capsule, how is it so full of hope?”

Thankfully, the scraping stopped, but in its place was a feeling on Shiya’s shoulder, then her neck, as the captain took another, last, step towards her. It was her dagger which made the noise as the man dragged the metal blade against the stone walls of the hall. Shiya could have stepped away, having watched the man approach.

“Take it,” he said, “your dagger.”

Really? Shiya bit her cheek. A captain wouldn’t give an enemy girl a dagger. Unless maybe he thought she could do no harm to him, or anyone else, with it. She almost informed him that she stabbed the prince only minutes ago with that dagger, but, (1) that would be a thoughtless confession, and, (2) he probably already knew based off the red of the blade.

“What would you expect me to do with it? I am not so stupid to attack a captain.”

“You attacked a prince.”

He does know, the princess realized with a great magnitude of dread. Her throat went dry in an instant. She shook her head.

“Refusing to take your own pretty weapon?” The captain clicked his tongue, licked his bottom lip, then licked a canine tooth. He tilted his head at the enemy princess, the one which had the audacity to stab her captor prince with a jewelled dagger. “You were so fond of using it before. Why not now?”

“I said,” she reiterated, stupidly confident, “that I am smarter than to take it. I am your enemy, and I know well that enemies do not hand other enemies weapons.”

This made the man laugh. It was now that Shiya took the time to observe his features, the ones which made him a man instead of a brute.

He was older- though no older than any captain Shiya knew- perhaps in his forties. Late forties. He had crows feet beside his right eye, but on the left, instead of a bird’s print, was a scar which stopped just short of his eyebrow and reached down to the corner of his lip. It was jagged, uneven, thicker in some spots, thinner in others.

“You are not so much an enemy as you are a prisoner.”

“An enemy prisoner,” Shiya responded, nearly in question. She was still an enemy, by definition, wasn’t she?

Another pot of laughter boiled from the captain at the princess’ easy comment. She took the short time to make more careful observations. Why? She didn’t know. Maybe it was what helped her maintain the calm she possessed now.

The scar was particularly wide where it stopped above the captain’s eye, as if someone had a knife and twisted it there. It certainly wasn’t the mark of an animal. Animalistic, but not made by a wolf, or bear, or such.

One of the captain’s cheekbones was more prominent than the other. Actually- Shiya squinted for a moment- they were both prominent, only one was dented slightly, it seemed. How was that possible?

“How much of a threat do you think you are, Princess of Stinemarch?”

The weakness which the captain insinuated didn’t go unnoticed by Shiya. She knew it was a shot more at her kingdom than herself. Either way, it rendered her in a way that made her seem like a speck on earth and nothing more.

“Your prince is bleeding, is he not?” Shiya jutted her chin away from her own blade, disliking the way it was warming against her skin from having sat there for so long.

“Take the dagger. I will not tell you again.”

This time the princess did as she was told. She reached for the handle, where the captain’s hand was settled, and she tugged.

“The blade.”

Shiya’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Grab the blade.”

“The bla- but the blade is sharp.”

He looked at her expectantly, waiting, knowing very well that it was sharp. Even if it weren’t sharp, he’d make it cut deep. “There’s a good girl.”

[ah-ga-seven]

Till’ The End of Summer - Chapter 9

<< series masterlist >>

Pairing: Choi Yeonjun x Reader

In a Nutshell: College!AU, Rich Kids, Friends to Lovers, Fuckboy athlete Yeonjun, Overprotective Best friend Soobin, contains all of TXT and other Idol cameos, Omnipresent perspective.

Synopsis: You and Yeonjun are caught up in a cat and mouse game because of unspoken feelings and endless pining for each others’ attention. With the summer break approaching and lots of college parties, will you finally get a chance to explore your feelings for each other; even though the world and Yeonjun’s reputation makes things complicated?

Word count: 11,5K

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: Mentions of a broken family, abusive parents, conflict and death.

Yeonjun followed his mom inside of the house he used to call home before he left for college. The familiar scent of amber and vanilla welcomed him as he stepped inside.  

The heels of his shoes made a loud ticking noise on the luxurious black marble tiled floor with each step he took. The place hadn’t changed much. The only thing different being the flower arrangements and the emptiness of the massive Villa.  

It used to be way more lively in here. There were always all sorts of visitors in the house, if it was staff, family members, or friends of his dad’s; there was never a quiet moment during the day, which made the silence even more confronting and saddening.  

He sighed putting his bag down, stretching his aching body as a result of the long drive.

“Your room is exactly how you left it.” His mom says timidly. “I guess somehow I wished you’d return home someday so I didn’t have the heart to change anything about it.”

Yeonjun looks at his mother a little puzzled. All of the emotional confessions are taking a toll on him and he isn’t quite sure what he should be saying to her.

Just as the silence was starting to get awkward, they get interrupted.

“Yeonjun? Is that you?” a voice sounds from across the hall.

Yeonjun’s ears perk up and as he makes eye contact with her, his lips curl up into a loving smile.

“Yes, Lita imo, it’s me…” he says shyly as he let the older woman hug him tightly. Lita is the head housekeeper who has been working for the family since Yeonjun could walk.

She’s the one who packed his lunches and sat with him at the dinner table when his parents were too busy working. The only person he truly missed from the household was her. So, seeing her again after all this time made his heart swell.

He just wishes the circumstances were a little different.  

She sighed as she held him at arms-length and studied him for a second. “Did you grow even more? When does it stop? You’re getting scary tall. And where did your baby cheeks go huh?” she says pinching his cheek, making sure to baby him like she used to.  

“Ah-ah-ah” he whines as she let go of his cheek. They were beaming at each other and his mother noticed. A faint smile also on her face as she watched their dynamic.

She never really noticed how close they were until now.  

“I’ll go make your bed. You must be tired from the trip.” Lita says, patting his shoulder before she makes her way up the stairs and into his old bedroom.

Yeonjun watched her go up with a small smile and sighed contently.

He followed his mother into the formal living room and sat down on the couch, letting his fingers graze over the velvety material.

“So…where is he?” he asks looking at his mom.

“He’s in the hospital.”

“Do we go…tonight?” He asks, uncertainty evident in his tone of voice.

“Yes, but let’s have some dinner first alright? I told Lita to make your favourite.”

“I can’t believe you stole the tournament bus,” Taehyun says clicking his tongue.

“It’s not stealing if I have a key.” Soobin argues back. “Besides how else were we all going to fit in the same car.”

The small bus had space for exactly 7 people, so you were glad it was even an option. Soobin being the team captain and all had its perks. He has keys to almost every facility and even the fucking school building.  

“I hope this little stunt doesn’t get me suspended,” he says nervously biting his lip.

“No one will notice it’s missing hyung, it’s summer break.” Hueningkai retorts as he leans forward to pat Soobin on the back. Hueningkai was seated next to Taehyun in the middle row, while you and Beomgyu cozied up together in the back seats as Mia assisted Soobin with navigating in the front seat.

If the situation was any different, this could have accounted for a fun road trip with your friends, but the reality of things was a lot more somber.  

“No, baby no! It’s a left here.” Mia panics as Soobin misses the exit.

“You said the next one!” he whines, slightly raising his voice.

“This is the next one!”  

“Ugh, great. That at least an hour detour,” Taehyun states yanking the phone from Mia’s grip to inspect the route.

“Don’t get annoyed with each other already, we’ve been driving for only an hour,” you say interrupting the couples’ arguing.  

Everyone was tense. None of you knew what the fuck you were even driving towards, where you would stay, what you would do when you’d see him.  It was a permanent decision made on temporary feelings and you were anxious, to say the least, and given everyone’s attitudes, so were they.  

“Well originally it was only 5 more hours, but thanks to someone it turned into 6.” Soobin says, which made Mia glare at him venomously.  

“We’ll be lucky if we arrive before midnight with breaks included.” Taehyun states calculating quickly as he passes the phone back to Mia.

Beomgyu was asleep with his head on your shoulder, ignoring all the banter. You envied his ability to fall asleep anywhere at any time and sighed as you fixed a piece of his hair.

“It’s not the end of the world guys.” Hueningkai says calming them down. “I know we’re all nervous and every second counts, but we don’t even have a plan for when we get there,”  

“The plan is to be there for him.” Soobin says tightening his grip on the steering wheel.

“No matter what.”

Yeonjun stood frozen on his feet with his hand on the doorknob to his fathers’ private hospital suite. The amount of security he had to go through was of insane proportions. If his mom wasn’t there to confirm that his dad indeed had a son, he was sure he wouldn’t even be able to enter on his own.

He let go of the knob and inhaled sharply before turning around to face his mother.

“I can’t do this,” he says with a shaky voice while his enlarged pupils dart to his mothers’ equally dark ones.

“Do you want me to go with you?” She asked putting a comforting hand on his shoulder as her brows furrow in concern.

Yeonjun thinks about it for a second but shakes his head in reply.  

If he’s gonna do it, he’ll do it by himself. Though the presence of his friends would have helped, that wasn’t an option.

“I’ll be right here if you need me.” His mother assures, and for some reason, that small sentence of encouragement was all he needed. Hell, it was the most encouragement he’s gotten from his mom his entire life, so he took it with both hands.

He nodded to himself, his demeanor shifting to a much more confident one as the look in his eyes changed while twisting the doorknob.

He peaked his head through, knocking on the door softly. The view of his father was blocked by the figure of a nurse but as she turned to look at who was at the door, his father was in full view.

His mom was right, his condition was bad.

The once so powerful and unbreakable businessman Daniel Choi looked everything but those things.

He had lost a lot of weight, his cheeks sunken, hair gray. His lips were chapped and dry, as was his skin. All in all, he looked sick, and far more dead than alive.

Yeonjun’s eyes widened at the sight. There was no way that Yeonjun wanted to show empathy towards the man but somehow, he felt bad for him.  

“Yeonjun, right?” the nurse says as she smiles at Yeonjun warmly.

He just nods in response and notices how his dad has only been staring at the wall in front of him, not responding to anything that was going on.

Yeonjun closes the door behind him and walks towards the nurse, keeping his eyes on his dad.

“He’s sedated to cope with the pain. He can hear you and see you. He responds if you get close enough, though it might take some time for him to process what is going on around him.”

Yeonjun nervously bit his lip, the sudden wave of emotions he was feeling becoming too much for him. He didn’t anticipate this, he thought he could have at least had one last normal conversation with him.

“Does he even remember me?” Is the first thing he says, the sound of his voice made Daniel’s head snap into Yeonjun’s direction and it startled Yeonjun.

His father’s fingers started to twitch in response. His movement became more demanding and the nurse immediately went over to him to calm him down.

“All he’s been asking for the past few weeks is you, Yeonjun. I think he’s surprised to see you too,” she says as she gives your dad a slight smile, patting his shoulder in an attempt to calm him down.

All Daniel was looking at was Yeonjun. He kept trying to lift his hand to motion to Yeonjun that he should come closer, but the message wasn’t quite clear.

Yeonjun didn’t know what to do, he stood awkwardly frozen in place as he watched his dad become more and more restless.

“Do I need to leave?” He asked a little distressed.

“No, I actually think he wants you to come closer, it’s okay. You can sit next to him on the stool. He’ll appreciate it,” she says holding out her hand as she motions for him to approach.

He took a deep breath and looked his father in the eye once more as he walked towards the bed.  

His dad seemed to calm down as Yeonjun sat down beside him. His eyes scanning his son's face. He was able to grab Yeonjun’s hand, which surprised him, but he didn’t have the heart to pull away.

“I’ll give you two some space, if anything happens; press that button above his bed” the nurse says pointing toward the rectangular looking remote.

Yeonjun nodded, giving her a last look as she walked out. When the door closed behind her, he averted his attention back to his father. Sighing loudly as he looked at their intertwined fingers.

“You must really be out of your mind if you’re voluntarily holding my hand.” Yeonjun thinks out loud, speaking under his breath as he stares at their hands.

He felt tears prickle his eyes. His bottom lip trembling as the first tear escapes his eye.

He felt his father squeeze his hand, which made him look up at him.

“I really do hate you.” Yeonjun says in between sobs. “I do. I hate you.”

His father just looked at him, blinking a couple of times to show that he understands.

“So why the fuck am I even crying,” he huffs. This is a rhetorical question of course. He knows exactly why he’s crying. He’s crying because he’s powerless.

Yeonjun tears turned into frustration as he yanks his hand from his dad’s grasp. Angrily wiping his tears away as he collects himself.  

“You can hear everything right?”  

No response.

“Can you blink once for yes and twice for No.”  

One blink.

Yeonjun sniffed nodding to himself as he organizes his thoughts. “Ok. So, we can communicate,” he thinks out loud.

His confidence returned, he rolls his shoulders back and places his hands on his thighs as he straightens out his posture.

“Why did you want me here?” Yeonjun asks getting straight to the point.

Daniel cocked his head to the side to show confusion, but his fathers’ confusion to the question only confused Yeonjun more.

“You wouldn’t tell mom why you wanted to see me. So why did you.”

His father tried to speak, but it was to no avail as he gave up quickly. Sighing in frustration at the fact that he couldn’t form words.

“Right, that’s not a yes or no question.” Yeonjun realizes, crossing his legs as he buries his face in his hands, lightly massaging his own scalp to release the tension in his brain.

After a few seconds he looks up, catching his dad staring at him intensely. Yeonjun uncomfortably shifted in his seat, noticing how his dad was getting more restless as he tried his best to form words.

“T-t-table.”

Yeonjun’s mouth fell agape to the sound of his dad's voice. “The table? Which table?” he asks getting up. Looking around frantically to catch any clues to what his dad is trying to tell him.

He followed his fathers’ gaze and quickly walked towards the expensive-looking mahogany table in the left corner of the room.

His eyes fall on an envelope with his name on it. His fingers ghost over the paper material, scanning it thoroughly as he picks it up.

He looks back at his dad who was still staring back at him. Yeonjun nodded. Taking the envelope with him as he sat back down on the stool.

“You want me to read this?” he asks, which earned one clear blink.

“Alright.” Yeonjun sighs as he opens the letter.  

“To Yeonjun.” he reads aloud. ��

I don’t know whether or not you will read this when I’m dead or alive, but that’s not the point. After you’ve read this, make sure no one else does.

Even if you think I didn’t show interest in your life, I watched your every move. I know about your schoolwork, your team, your friends, the girl you like. I know it all.  

I’ve had people watch you for me ever since I found out I was dying. Which has been years now. I made them write me reports on your character, your skills, and the way people perceive you and I have to say, I was surprised, to say the least.  

You have proven yourself to be a leader rather than a follower. You are passionate, hard-working, smart and competent and will do literally anything to fight for your goals.

The only reason you are all of these things is because you had to work for it. You were never emotionally cradled as a child and from an early age you were aware that success is something you don’t just gain without a bead of sweat

You have seen the world at its darkest before you could feel what true happiness is, and that was not done unintentionally.

Your upbringing might have been tough. But it’s what you needed to become the ruthless and determined person that you are today.  

That same ruthlessness and determination are what Choi Enterprises needs. Which brings me to the point of this letter.

There is no other person on the planet that I entrust with the future of Choi Enterprises other than you.

I don’t trust your mother and therefore I cannot let the company fall into the hands of your mother and her cunning family.  

For your entire life, all I did was make sure you were ready for this moment. And even though it came earlier than anticipated, If you sign the attached documents. It’s all yours effective immediately.  

Power comes with a price that I was willing to pay.  

And I hope that you will too.

-  Daniel Choi.  

Yeonjun blinks a couple of times to let it all register to him. He lifts his head from the paper and looks at his father's hopeful expression.

“You spied on me.” he says in disbelief.

“You spied on me, but you couldn’t send me a birthday card?”  It was a figure of speech, though his dad got what he meant.

Anger filled Yeonjun’s senses. The audacity this took from his father is on another level of crazy.

He got up, kicking the stool he sat on aggressively, making it fall to the floor with a loud thud.

His dad didn’t even flinch. He just kept staring at Yeonjun with the same look from before.

“Tell me.”

Yeonjun says as he inches his face closer to his father.

“Do you regret it?”

Daniel cocked his head to the side in confusion and waited for Yeonjun to continue.

“Do you regret being an abusive piece of shit? The whole, you needed to live through it to become strong shit isn’t cutting it for me. Do you regret it? Yes or No.”

Yeonjun was seething. He was inches away from his dad, fists balled, wrinkling the letter and attached documents in his left hand as a result of his strength as he anticipated his fathers’ answer.

The look in Daniel’s eyes went cold followed by two blinks.

“No.” Yeonjun scoffs. “Of course, you don’t.”  

Yeonjun took a step back, clearing his throat as he swallowed his anger with it.

“Well in that case…” he says inspecting the papers in his hands. He held it in front of his line of sight, making sure his dad can see what he’s about to do.

He held on to each side of the pile of papers, ripping it in half slowly.  

“Take that contract to your fucking grave.” He spits as he throws it into the nearest trash can.  

His dad started to panic, convulsing aggressively in his bed. Gulping for air as he tried his best to move and speak at the same time.

Yeonjun pressed the distress button and stormed out of the room, not bidding his dad another look.  

He slammed the door behind him, startling his mother who was waiting for him in the hall.

“Yeonjun!” she yelled after him. She quickly looked back to the room her husband was in, shocked with the sight of multiple nurses trying to hold him down.

She didn’t hesitate to run after Yeonjun, catching him in the hallway.

“Yeonjun wait a second!”  

He halted his long strides, breathing heavily as he turned around on his heels.

“What happened in there?” his mother asks wide-eyed as she lays a hand on his shoulder in order to calm him down.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he says clenching his jaw, shaking his mothers hand off of his shoulder.

“Okay…whenever you’re ready.” she tries carefully, trying not to tick him off any further.  

“Let’s go home. You’ve been through enough today.”  

“Hyung are you sure you put in the right address?” Hueningkai asks wide-eyed as he got out of the van first.

“This can’t be it,” Taehyun says with his mouth agape.  “This isn’t even considered a house. It looks like a damn palace.”  

“I knew Yeonjun’s family was loaded but this…” Mia remarks.

You get out of the car, your mouth going dry as you look at the biggest house you’ve seen in your life. It was modern, yet rustic. The home had huge windows and white pillars and there was a huge stone staircase that lead up to the front door.

“How many bathrooms do you think they have?” Beomgyu gulps, his eyes darting from one side of the house to the other.

“Really? That’s what’s important right now?” Taehyun argues

“I’m just curious,” Beomgyu says rolling his eyes.

“Well..let’s….knock?” Soobin says with uncertainty peeking through his voice.

You take a deep breath, calming your nerves as you didn’t know what you would walk into. You weren’t sure how Yeonjun would feel to see you again or to see any of you right now. You had hoped the 6 turned 7-hour drive wasn’t for nothing, and that you could talk to Yeonjun with a clear mind.

Soobin took the lead with the rest of you trailing behind him. He sighed looking back at you guys before he built up the courage to ring the doorbell.

All of you were dead silent, anticipating for the door to be opened.

After a few more seconds, the large double doors open automatically, with a timid rather small lady standing in the doorway with an equally confused expression on her face to match yours.

That can’t be his mother? Right? They look nothing alike.

“Ehm…can I help you? It’s close to midnight? You do realize this is private property?” Lita says looking at the group with suspicion.

“Ehm, Hi mam, my name is Soobin, these are my friends…well…Yeonjun’s friends. We kind of…followed him here.” Soobin stammers incoherently. “But with good intent! We just…want to be there for him because…well…we think he’s having a hard time and-“

“Soobin.” You say shutting him up. “I think she gets it.”

Yeonjun heard multiple voices at the front door and came down the stairs out of curiosity. As he turns the corner, seeing a raven-haired tall figure at the front. He knew exactly who it was.

His eyes widened as his pace quickened, walking towards the voices a little faster.

You saw Yeonjun emerge from behind the lady, and when his eyes landed on all of you, he stood frozen on his feet next to her. The first one he made eye contact with is you.

The two of you stared at each other for a few seconds before the smaller lady interrupted the moment.

“Yeonjun, do you know these people?” She asks with a much kinder tone as she speaks to him.

“Y-yes, these are my friends,” Yeonjun says breaking eye contact with you, looking at the rest.

“How did you find out where I lived?”

“Y/n found out actually…there was a box in your room with the address on it…under your bed,” Mia says jumping in.

Yeonjuns eyes landed on you once again, giving you a small smile which you reciprocated, not knowing what else to do.  

“Hyung, if you don’t want us here, I’m so sorry. But the way you left, we were worried and-”

Soobin couldn’t finish his sentence before Yeonjun pulled him towards him with a hard pull. The two hugged for a few seconds before Yeonjun let go, putting his hand on Soobin's shoulder as he looked at all of you with pure affection.

“I can’t believe you came all the way here…I don’t know what to say,” he says scratching the back of his head, still a little lost for words.

“How about, come in. It’s freezing.” Beomgyu says giving the older one a bitter smile as he chatters his teeth dramatically to show that he was cold.

Yeonjun chuckled, stepping aside so all of you could enter. And so, you did.  

All of your jaws dropped at the interior and detail that went into the decoration of the place. The hall was huge and connected all of the separate rooms and wings together. Apart from the dark tiled floors, the colour scheme was light. Different shades of whites and nudes made up the interior. It was stylish, yet classic at the same time, with pops of colours from different flowers in huge vases.

“Do I need to prepare the guest rooms?” Lita asks a little flustered at the sudden appearance of 6 more guests.  

Ah…so she’s the housekeeper, you think to yourself as you snap back to reality.

Mia nudged you, mouthing a subtle ‘Marry him’ to you, which you roll your eyes at.

“Uhm, yes. If you don’t mind. Thank you, Lita.” Yeonjun says bidding her a quick nod as Lita walks off quickly.

Yeonjun’s attention focused on all of you again, and Hueningkai barged his way through, ready to hug Yeonjun tightly.  

“Hyung, are you okay? What happened?” he asks as he rubbed the older one’s belly while he still clung onto him like he always does.

His mother stood at the top of the stairs, unnoticed by any of you. She looked at the dynamic of all of you, especially looking at how clingy Hueningkai was with her son. She didn’t peg Yeonjun to be the type for physical affection like this.

A smile crept on her face, moved by the fact that his friends would go to these lengths to be there for him.

She tied her robe around herself, making her way down the stairs. And as she did so, Beomgyu noticed. He nudged Taehyun and motioned for him to look up, so he did, followed by all of you as you fell silent.  

Yeonjun looked in the same direction all of you were focusing your gazes on, and immediately understood why you fell quiet like that.

As she made her way down the stairs, you got a closer look at her face, and the resemblance she had to Yeonjun was almost scary.

“Yeonjun? Who are these people?” Her voice was clear and warm, a little raspy cause she was probably asleep before you invaded her home.

She scanned everyones faces but when her eyes landed on you, they lingered on you, and it made you feel incredibly self-conscious.

Your paranoid ass started to get insecure, thinking she knew something about your relationship with her son, but her attention was quickly averted as Yeonjun spoke up.

“Is it okay if they stay here?” he asked politely.  

“Of course, make yourselves at home. Any friend of Yeonjun’s is welcome here. If you all move to the living room so you can talk, I’ll go make some tea.”

“Thanks, mom.”  

This whole dialogue confused all of you. To your knowledge, their relationship was questionable. But this seemed like a regular Mother and Son dynamic.

His mother disappeared in the massive hall as Yeonjun motioned for all of you to walk towards the living room. He knew he had a lot of explaining to do but he was dying to know why you were here after everything he said to you.

He was sure that no matter the circumstance, you’d never want to see him again. Yet here you were, looking at him with those big doe eyes of yours.  

As the rest of the group admired the rest of the house, walking towards the living room, Yeonjun stopped you by tugging at your elbow lightly.  

Your heart raced as he touched you, you looked down, hooking your pinkie in his before you looked up at his face.

His eyes were sad, apologetic, and insecure. “I…didn’t expect you to come with them…” he says looking at your intertwined fingers.

You sighed, rubbing comforting circles into his palm with your thumb. “Let’s talk later ok?” you say giving him a small yet reassuring smile. He nodded, letting go of your hand, leading you into the formal living room.

He caught Beomgyu playing with an antique object and Yeonjun’s brotherly side immediately kicked in. “If you break that you’re gonna have to work all of your life to repay my mother,” he says sternly as he sat down in the chair opposite from the couch all of you were seated on.

Beomgyu quickly let go of the weird-looking object and cleared his throat. “Ok, spill the beans hyung. What’s going on?” He asks as he sat down on the armrest of Yeonjun’s chair.  

Yeonjun sighed, not quite knowing where to start.

“First of all. I owe all of you an apology,” he starts choking up a little.

“Hyung…” Taehyun says, his eyes getting sad as he watched Yeonjun protectively.

The mood in the room suddenly shifted as Yeonjun sighed. You could swear his eyes were getting watery, and there was nothing more that you wanted than to hold him in your arms right now. You wanted to comfort him and tell him everything was going to be okay, but you had no idea what was going on yet.

His mother emerged from the entrance with a tray full of teacups and cookies. She put down the tray and stood beside Yeonjun in silence.

“I’m sorry for acting the way I did on the night of the party. The way I acted towards you guys was uncalled for, especially towards you… y/n.”

You lock eyes with him again, and you feel his mothers’ eyes on you as well.

Hueningkai sat down in front of Yeonjun on the floor, putting a comforting hand on his knee.  

Yeonjun gave him a small smile. Out of nervousness, Soobin grabbed Mia’s hand and squeezed it as all of you anticipated his next words.

“That night, I stayed at my uncle's house. The next morning my mom showed up to talk to me. It took some time but…we found some type of middle ground and I agreed to come back home with her for a while.”  

“So…what was the family emergency?” Soobin asks a little confused.

Yeonjun inhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. He fell quiet for a second, suddenly noticing the room full of people that cared enough about him to drive all the way across the country to comfort him in a situation they didn’t know of, even though he was being a complete asshole.  

He didn’t know what he did to deserve them. He looked at them individually and his heart started to swell with the intense amount of love he felt for them.

He looked at Beomgyu’s arm around him, Hyuka’s comforting hand on his knee, Soobin’s worried and glistening eyes to match Taehyun’s, Mia’s protectiveness, and your patient yet scared facial expression.

He bit his lip, getting emotional and he felt Beomgyu pull him closer.

“My dad is counting his last days,” he says looking at the floor.

You didn’t know about anyone else, but this was the last thing you expected.

The room fell silent apart from a few gasps. Your heart sank to your stomach and tears start to prickle your eyes as you watch him struggle to contain his emotions. His lip was slightly trembling, his hand covering his mouth as his eyes were big and sad.

“Oh, Yeonjun…” Mia sighs as she rubs Soobin’s back to comfort him as well.

Soobin isn’t one to cry but seeing the people he loves the most go through pain is absolutely heartbreaking to him. He wiped a single tear from his eyes and so did Taehyun as he sighed loudly.

Yeonjun huffed, wiping the tears from the corners of his eyes to look at his friends. “Don’t cry. Stop, please.” He starts.  

“It’s going to sound awful, but I’m not sad that he’s dying. My dad was…is a horrible person. He was abusive, manipulative, and unreasonable. There was no one I feared more than that man. Every time I closed my eyes at night I wasn’t scared of aliens and monsters under my bed, I was scared of him coming into my room to yell at me or hit me. I think I’m sadder about the fact that I’ll never get an apology out of him for ruining me. I’ll never hear him say that he was wrong for the things that he did to me as a kid and that’s the hardest pill to swallow.” Yeonjun confessed all in one go.

You swallowed harshly, trying to suppress a sob. Taehyun noticed that you were having a hard time, so he put his arm around you, making you lean into him by subtly pulling you towards him.

“I went to see him today, and even though we couldn’t really communicate the way I hoped we would, he made it clear to me that he wasn’t sorry.”  

“What…” Soobin says in disbelief. “He wasn’t remorseful at all?”

“No.” Yeonjun shook his head, contemplating if he should tell them about the contract and the company, but given the fact that his mother was in the room; he decided against it.

He didn’t know if he could trust her, for all he knew she could be after the money and the company herself. Knowing his mother, she could be just as ruthless as her dad when it came to business matters.

“Yeonjun, we’re here for you. Seriously. If you need anything at all just tell us. We won’t be leaving unless you tell us to.” Soobin states confidently as they look each other in the eye. His words made Yeonjun feel assured, and he bid Soobin a small smile. It was nice knowing that he wouldn’t be going through this alone.

He took a deep breath, shaking the sadness off of him. “Thank you guys for coming, seriously. I think I needed all of you more than I thought I would.”

“Of course,” Hueningkai says.

“Anytime, we’re family,” Beomgyu says as he squeezed Yeonjun’s shoulder.

You heard a small scoff from the left corner of the room and saw his mother with her arms crossed.  

You narrowed your eyes at her, raising your brow.

“Friends are friends, family is family,” she says, genuinely believing her own words.

Everyone was looking at her by now, as was Yeonjun who just sighed, ignoring her.

You don’t know why, but suddenly you feel a surreal amount of anger boiling in the pit of your stomach. You scoff at her statement which made Mia give you a warning look.

“We’ve been more of a family to him than you have been his whole life,” you say clear as day before you can think of the damage that you’ve just done, and just like that the atmosphere turned cold.

Yeonjun’s eyes widened, looking at you in shock.

Soobin uncomfortably shifted in his seat and Taehyun gave you a ‘bitch what the fuck was that’ look.

“Excuse me?” his mother’s tone changed completely. The once so soft-spoken woman turned into the ice queen herself and gave you a look that would normally make you run the opposite direction, but you held your ground by staring back at her fiercely.  

“What she means is…” Taehyun jumps in quickly. “That we truly are a family, we’d go to hell and back for each other and that’s a fact…mam,” he says as politely as humanly possible.

You try your best not to roll your eyes, which Yeonjun noticed. He had an amused smile on his lips, which his mother then noticed and suddenly it clicked to her. You were the girlfriend who wasn’t his girlfriend. The girl that stole her son’s heart, and the girl that talked back to her in her own home.

“It’s getting late. I suggest everyone gets some sleep. You all must be tired from the long drive. We don’t know what is waiting for us tomorrow and if you are sticking by his side like you all say you are, then we better get some good night’s rest.” She says almost diplomatically, perfectly enunciating every word as if she rehearsed it.

You honestly didn’t even think of sleeping, you wanted to talk to Yeonjun, clear the air between you two, and comfort him to your best ability. He just told you his dad was dying, and his feelings were disregarded so quickly that it shocked you.

In your household, a revelation like this would result in hours upon hours of talking about your feelings, whereas in Yeonjun’s home. Feelings are seen as a temporary burden. It was scary how quickly the mood switched from emotional to almost business-like, but Yeonjun didn’t know any better. He was wired the exact same way as his mother because that’s how he had learned to deal with his feelings.

It’s like he only allowed himself to feel true emotion for a little while, seeing it as impractical to be vulnerable. This household really did feel like a business deal, which made your heartache for Yeonjun even more.

Soobin was the first to get up, stretching his tall body before he helped Mia to her feet as well.

Lita emerged from the entrance to lead all of you upstairs to your respective guest rooms.  

Soobin and Mia shared a room, as did Hueningkai and Taehyun. Beomgyu and yourself, however, got rooms to yourselves with attached bathrooms in a whole different wing than the others.

From the outside, his house looked enormous, but from the inside, it was even bigger. You were already getting lost in the halls even though you were in a group. You had no idea where you came from every time you turned a corner and Yeonjun noticed how lost you were, chuckling to himself a little as he walked closely behind you.

You were the last one to be appointed to a room, as everyone else was already settling down.

“This is where you’ll be staying miss.” Lita says as she points to the door across from Beomgyu’s room.

You nod sheepishly, turning the doorknob. Your mouth fell agape at the sight of the room. You could swear it was as big as your apartment. The interior was classic, yet modern. And looking at the way the bed was made you were almost scared to wrinkle the bedsheets.

You swallow harshly, trying to act as nonchalant as possible.

“This will do, right? If not, I have a bigger option at the end of the hall.”

“N-no, this is fine, more than fine,” you stutter.

Yeonjun stood behind Lita, leaning against the doorframe with a shit-eating grin on his face.

He was enjoying your flustered state, as it took a lot to get your smart-ass anywhere close to dumbfounded.  

You saw the playfulness in his eyes, and you cursed at yourself for being so obviously impressed with everything.

“If you need anything just give me a call with the house phone. The number is on your bedside table. Goodnight.” Lita says giving you a warm smile.

“Goodnight…” you mutter timidly as you close the door behind you after you watched Yeonjun walk off with her.

You lean your head against the doorframe, your mind spinning with all of the things that happened in such a short time frame.  

You sigh, throwing your bag on the bed. You decided to take a quick shower. The attached bathroom looked like one out of a magazine, so it took some time for you to adjust and figure out how to set the right temperature for the faucet.  

You really needed that shower to clear your mind and relax your muscles. You were basically clenching your butt cheeks the whole night out of nervousness, and you could already feel the muscles in your body getting sore. You sigh, finishing up your routine and slipping into an oversized shirt to sleep in.

During your whole routine, all you could think of was Yeonjun, and how badly you wanted to be alone with him right now.  

You stare at the ceiling as you laid on your back, completely engulfed in the soft sheets and pillows of the bed.  

You were wondering how he was doing, if he was thinking of you or if he was asleep.  

You sit up, turning on the bedside lamp as you reach for your phone, ready to text or call him but your actions were interrupted as you heard soft knocks on your door.

Your eyes widened, knowing damn well that it was him.

You put your phone aside and crawled out of the bed with lightning speed. 

When you opened the door and locked eyes with him, you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his frame to hug him tightly.

He was surprised by your affection, wrapping his arms around you as well to hold you even tighter.

He closed his eyes as he buried his face in your hair, appreciating the moment.

God, he missed you.

You walked backwards, still in his hold as he closed the door behind him skillfully with his foot.

He let go of you slowly, grabbing your face as he searched for answers in your eyes for questions he hadn’t asked yet, but when you looked at him with the same longing facial expression as his, he knew enough.

He inched his face closer to yours, pulling you in for a soft and needy kiss that you yearned for so much. You stabilized yourself by holding on to his wrists as he kissed you with so much passion and hunger, that your mind went foggy. He pulled away slowly. Leaning his forehead against yours as you both try to catch your breath.

“Hi,” you say shyly, smiling up at him.

Your cuteness made him chuckle softly. “Hey,” he replies, letting go of you reluctantly.  

You sit down on the bed and pat the spot next to you as a way of telling him to sit there. He complies and you face him, looking into his tired eyes.

You remove a stray piece of hair that was prickling his eyes and sigh.

“Tell me how you’re feeling, honestly,” you say taking a hold of his hand.

He takes a deep breath, knowing he can’t bullshit with you. “I’m not sure,” he confesses.

“It’s like one second I’m fine, and I forget what’s happening and the next I’m sad and angry. I feel bipolar,” he says letting himself fall flat to the bed.  

You sigh, scooting closer to him. “That’s perfectly normal. I’m glad you’re still able to feel something given everything you’ve been through.”  

He sighs loudly pulling you down with him, so you were situated on his chest. You comply, knowing that he needed you close for comfort, and to be really honest with yourself, you missed the feeling of having him close like this. You stay like that for a while, enjoying each other’s presence in the silence before he decided to break it.

“I’m so fucking sorry y/n,” he says in almost a whisper as he plays with your hair, lost in thought.

You stay silent, getting sad as you think back to your explosive fight. “I should have never slapped you,” you admit choking up. The fact that you did was something you couldn’t get out of your mind nor forgive yourself for. Especially after Soobin told you about his abusive childhood, all you could do was hate yourself for it.  

Yeonjun noticed the crack in your voice and sits up immediately with you still in his arms.  

“Y/n if I was you, I would have done more than just slapped me in the face, I deserved that. It’s okay,” he says shushing you, caressing your cheek in order to calm you down.

You take a deep breath, blinking away the fluid in your eyes before you start to speak. “No, it’s not. And let’s not sugar-coat it. We were both wrong, and we were both right at the same time. I just don’t understand how we go from paradise to hell in a matter of seconds Yeonjun, it’s what scares me about us.”  

He just nods, not being able to counter act your statement because you were right.  

The not being able to live with or without each other was a level of toxicity that you swore you’d never fall for. But yet here you are, wrapped up in the arms of the man who basically told you his best friend could have you now that he’s done with you.

You can’t even tell him how many times those words rang through your head like a painful mantra, but that’s the last thing that you want to burden him with right now.

“I forgive you,” you say breaking the silence. “I really do. I know you only said those things to push me away because you’re afraid to let me in, but you’re not the only one that’s scared Yeonjun. So am I. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about anyone and that’s just…’  

“Scary,” he says, finishing your sentence.

“Yeah..”

Yeonjuns shoulders fell, giving you a kiss on your forehead. “We can figure out what all of this means for us later, but for now I’m just really, really happy you’re here right now.”  

You nod in agreement, kissing his jaw affectionately before you wrap your arm around his waist again, and suddenly his mind flashed back to the little altercation between you and his mother.

“I can’t believe you talked back to my mom like that.” He snorts as he pulls you back down again, making himself comfortable with you laying across his chest. 

“I’m sorry but it was the fucking hypocrisy that did it for me,” you huff a little annoyed as you think back to the moment.

Yeonjun just chuckles, and you feel his chest vibrate as he does so. “I don’t know. I get what you mean but she’s been trying. I can’t move forward with her if I don’t give her a chance to change but…I don’t trust her yet,” he says lost in thought.

“What don’t you trust her with?”  

Yeonjun bit the inside of his cheek, contemplating if he should tell you about the whole ordeal with his dad this afternoon, but since he wanted your opinion on the matter, he decided to tell you.  

“I told you guys I went to visit my dad, right?” He says rubbing your back absentmindedly.

You nod, looking up at him. “What happened?”

“He wrote me a letter saying that he’s been keeping tabs on me, and that he wants me to take over the business because he doesn’t’ trust my mom.”

“Wow, wow, wow. What?” you say sitting up again.

“Yeah, that was a very rough summary,” he says propping himself up on his elbows to look at you.

“He kept tabs on you?”

“He had people spy on me. It’s scary baby, he even knew of you.”  

Your eyes widen in shock. It’s like you were suddenly involved as a pawn in a very complex game of chess and you didn’t know what to think of it.  

“And he wants you to take over Choi Enterprises?”

Yeonjun just nods, looking up at the ceiling.

“Well…are you?”

“It’s never what I wanted. And It’s not like I want to grant his dying wish or anything like that but…”

“But?”

“It is my birthright.”  

You blink a couple of times, letting his words register. If Yeonjun was seriously contemplating whether or not to take the position of acting CEO, you were sure he wouldn’t need some lame college degree to back him up. He’d drop out of school; move back to his hometown and you’d never see him again. Selfishly it’s not what you wanted, but it wasn’t about you. It was about him.

“If I just let my mom run the company, I could always roll in if I wanted to, but if I would go behind her back and acquire the position myself, it’d break the little trust we built.”

“What if your mom is just using your good heart to get to that position herself?” You ask thinking out loud.

“You think she’d do that?” Yeonjun says genuinely interested, not offended at all by the assumption. If anything, he was happy to have someone to talk to, so he could look at the situation from multiple perspectives.

“I mean…what do you really know about her?” You ask tracing patterns on his chest with your fingers to keep yourself occupied.

Yeonjun looked at you, biting his lip as he got lost in thought again.  

“My dad did mention something in the letter about her, and her quote ‘cunning family’ being after Choi Enterprises, but I don’t know it just…seems like a stretch. My mom knows I don’t have interest in the company.”  

You halt your movements, laying back down on his chest as you make yourself comfortable.

He looked down at you lovingly, giving you a quick kiss on your lips when you looked up at him again.

“Maybe ask him about it. I can come with you if you want. First thing in the morning.”  

Yeonjun’s brows raised in surprise. “You’d do that?” he asks a little baffled at the fact that you’d voluntarily throw yourself in a lion’s den for him. This wasn’t just like visiting a relative in the hospital, there was so much more at stake that even Yeonjun himself couldn’t fathom right now.

You nod, not having to think twice about it. “Anything for you.”

The two of you fell asleep like that, wrapped up in each others’ warmth with your arms and legs tangled together. It was the best sleep both of you had gotten in the past couple of days. Though it was a short night, you were well-rested.

At around 8 AM you texted Soobin that Yeonjun and yourself went out to talk to each other in private when in reality you were going to visit the hospital to see Yeonjun’s dad. You were sure everyone was still in deep sleep and that you’d be back before they’d notice, but it felt better to at least let someone know that you left the house together.

The car ride was silent, nerves eating at the both of you as you held hands while he drove. He was nervously biting the inside of his cheek like he always does, and never let go of your hand the whole way.

As you walk through the endless halls of the hospital and pass security to the VIP section; you started to get more intimidated by the level of security present. They let Yeonjun through without a word and you trailed behind him with big eyes as you held onto his hand tightly.

He sighed, turning around to look at you as he stops in front of a massive double door. “Last time I saw him I stormed out in anger. Even when he’s not responsive he makes my blood boil and I honestly don’t want you to see me like that if it happens again.” He confesses as he looks at you seriously.  

You sigh, squeezing his hand as reassurance. “I don’t care. I’m not leaving your side.”  

Yeonjun nodded, taking a deep breath before he prepared himself as he opened the door to his fathers’ VIP area, but the sight he was welcomed with, was the last one he expected.

You noticed how he froze, and you frowned, standing on your toes to peek over his shoulder but your heart dropped to your stomach as you saw and heard what was going on.

Doctors and nurses were frantically trying to resuscitate Yeonjun’s father.  

“CLEAR!”  

The loud and continuous beeping of the heart monitor, followed by the charging sounds of the defibrillator was all the confirmation you needed to know that he was flatlining.

Panic was evident, and you knew that despite all the efforts of the doctors, chances were little to nothing that they’d be able to bring him back, given the state he was already in.

Your gasp was noticed by a few nurses and doctors which made one of them groan in disapproval.  

“How did they get in here!? No one is allowed inside.” The doctor huffs before he charged the defibrillator again.

“CLEAR!”

Yeonjun watched his father’s body contort as the joules of electricity were charged through his chest, but it was to no avail.  

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” One of the nurses says as she blocks the view.

Yeonjun pupils darted from his father to the doctors. He was in pure shock and unable to comprehend was going on before you lightly tugged at his hand. 

“Yeonjun,” you say in almost a whisper, trying to snap him out of it as you squeeze his hand.

“I-I’m his son,” Yeonjun says in an attempt to stick around. The same nurse from the day before gave him an apologetic look as she slowly pushed him out the door, while another doctor closed the curtain.

“I’m really sorry Yeonjun, but it’s protocol. You have to wait outside.”  

She closed the door behind her and left the two of you completely paralyzed in the halls of the VIP ward.  

Yeonjun turned around, leaning his back to the wall as his legs became weak. He slowly crouched down, and the sight broke your heart into a million pieces.

He wasn’t crying, he didn’t even look sad. He was just frozen. 

He looked into nothingness as he listened to what was going on inside of the room.

You quickly crouch down with him, not knowing what to do other than hold his hand and caressing his face with your free hand.

He still stared at the wall across from him as you pulled him close, making him rest his face on your shoulder as you whispered sweet nothings to him while he had to listen to what was going on in the other room.

The continuous beeping noise of the heart monitor followed by the sounds of the defibrillator sent chills down your spine as you held him to your best ability.

He didn’t respond to you or react to anything else, and when the noises halted after a minute or so, you knew they called it. 

He closed his eyes, suddenly tightening his arms around you as realization struck him.

“Time of death, 8.43 AM.”

You were seated in the family room of the hospital, handing Yeonjun a plastic cup filled with water.

He snapped out his thoughts and accepted the cup, taking a sip from it while avoiding eye contact with you.

He hadn’t quite looked at you yet. He was continuously staring into the void and it was starting to become scary. You wished he’d just say something, but he wasn’t able to, so you gave him time.

You promised you wouldn’t leave his side, and you were keeping that promise by handling the communication with the nurse, so he didn’t have to. You had called Soobin to tell him what was going on and you were sure they’d all be here in no time.  

You sat down across from him, trying to give him some space to gather his thoughts but it was like he wasn’t even in the room with you.

You sigh, taking a sip of your own cup of water and just as you were about to speak, his mother walked in followed by your friends.

She stepped aside as the boys enveloped Yeonjun in a tight hug, while Mia stood beside you, squeezing your shoulder lightly to show support.

Yeonjun sighed into the hug, loosening up a little and his frozen state seemed to vanish.  

Again, he wasn’t getting emotional, but he closed his eyes, letting his friends hold him in silence for a while.

The sight made your eyes water a little, but you choked back your tears, not wanting to be the one to start crying when no one else was.

His mother turned her attention to you, and you looked back at her while Mia was protectively standing next to you, still with her hand on your shoulder.

“Thank you for handling the communication with the staff. That must not have been easy, and I apologize for the fact that you had to do that. That should have been me. I’m sorry.”

You were taken aback by her apology and quickly shake your head in response. “No, no, please. Don’t mention it. It’s the least I can do.”

She gave you a simple nod and averted her attention to Yeonjun. He got up from the chair and walked over to his mother, opening up his arms for her.

She hesitated but went for the hug anyway, closing her eyes as she inhaled his scent, letting him hold her for a bit. The physical affection making her tear up.

He rubbed her back, patting her hair.

“It’s ok mom, you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

Everything happened so incredibly fast that you weren’t even able to process what the hell was going on around you. The Choi family had people for people who worked for those people, which meant that the funeral was basically held within the next day.

Lita made sure that the boys, Mia, and yourself had something appropriate to wear for the ceremony and you were in Yeonjun’s room, dressed and ready just half an hour before the service would start.  

You were seated on his bed, watching him fix his tie in the mirror.

He had been super quiet and detached, and you wanted to give him space, but he was adamant about the fact that he wanted you around. He hadn’t shed a single tear and didn’t even really talk about what happened. It was mostly you doing the talking for him.

Having to explain what you saw was rough, and you were worried it’d trigger something inside Yeonjun, but it didn’t. He kept himself composed and strong, and you were curious how long he could keep that façade alive.

You snap back from your thoughts and watch him struggle with tying his tie. A small smile crept upon your lips and you get up from the bed, walking towards him to do it for him.

He looked at you lovingly, holding on to your waist as he watched you tie the knot expertly just like your father taught you.

“What can’t you do?” he asks amused, looking down at you.

You look up at him through your lashes and scoff. “Get you to open up apparently,” you say as you finish up, giving him a soft pat on his chest to let him know you’re all done.

He blinked a couple of times, biting his lip.

“I love you.”  

Your eyes snap up to his in shock, making sure you didn’t just imagine that.  

“W-what?”  

“I love you,” he repeats, giving you a small smile as he fixes a piece of your hair.

“Y-Yeonjun I-” you stutter.

His confession was loud and clear, though it took you some time to process. You had no idea where it was coming from, but as you looked him in the eye; all he showed was confidence and sincerity.

“I think I knew the night of our fight, I wanted you as far away from me as possible to protect you from myself, and my uncle out of all people made me realize that that’s something you do out of love.” He explains making sense of his words.

“I don’t know what love feels like y/n, but when I look at you…the way you handled this whole thing. Sticking by me and supporting me emotionally even though I see you struggle with your own emotions it’s just…” He sighs, organizing his thought before he spoke again.

“I couldn’t put into words, how much I care for you and appreciate you, and that’s when it clicked that there’s a whole ass expression for that feeling,” he says, letting his hands travel to your waist again.

“I love you y/n. So, fucking much that it hurts,” he admits, closing his eyes as he leans his forehead to yours.

You sigh contently, letting your hand travel up to his cheek, softly caressing it before you peck his lips softly.  

“I love you too.”

Yeonjun didn’t expect you to say it back to him, but you meant every word you said. His eyes snapped open and a huge boyish grin crept upon his face, his eyes glistening with pleasure as he pulled you towards him roughly, which made you yelp in response.  

“You do?” He asks beaming at you.

“Yes Yeonjun, now wipe that grin off your face. We have a funeral to attend,” you say as you playfully roll your eyes.  

He snorted, letting go of you reluctantly, stealing a chaste kiss from you before he opened the door to his bedroom.

“After you, my love.”  

You were warned beforehand that the funeral would be more like a business event rather than a private family gathering. The ceremony took place in their back yard, so luckily you didn’t have to worry about running late.

The number of people you were introduced to, given the fact that Yeonjun paraded you around like an accessory was overwhelming. The only people that really stuck out to you were his uncle, Namjoon, and his wife Hye-Jin.

They were so happy to meet you that it felt like they already knew you personally.

Yeonjun basically had his game face on the whole night, it was a side to him that you hadn’t seen before and you realized that you missed the carefree, peer pong playing college boy from before.

As Yeonjun was talking to some stockholders, you decided to find your friends again.

“So…you and Yeonjun hyung are officially a thing now?” Taehyun asks as you join their table, completely exhausted from fake smiling to all the people you just met.

“Don’t think I don’t notice how he sneaks into your room every night y/n. Your room is literally right across from mine.” Beomgyu says as he gives you a bitter smile.

You roll your eyes at him as you smack his arm, earning a small yelp from him.

Soobin looked at you expectantly waiting for you to answer Taehyun’s question and you just nodded.

“We worked things through, I’ll tell you the details later but…we haven’t had the boyfriend, girlfriend talk yet.”

“Well, the timing is a little…” Mia starts.

“Yeah, exactly.”  

Hueningkai sighs, throwing his head back in annoyance. “What is going on, first Soobin hyung and Mia, then Beomgyu hyung and Ryujin and now Yeonjun hyung and you? Is there something in the air that I don’t know about?”

The group started snickering softly, trying not to be rude given the fact that you were at a funeral.  

“Maybe I should just start dating Taehyun.” He says jokingly nudging his friend.

“Actually, I’m kind of talking to someone too,” he says waving off the confused looks of everyone as he smiled at all of you.

“If it’s Yeonjun’s mom, I swear to god.” Beomgyu says.

“Ew, no. What the fuck.”  

“Can all of you please behave? Please. Just one night.” Soobin begs as he rubs his forehead, which made Mia chuckle, patting his back in comfort.

Soon after the music stopped. A spokesperson of the family took the stage, telling everyone to take a seat. Yeonjun’s eyes found yours, and he basically told you in sign language that he couldn’t join you guys, as it is expected that he sits at the front with his mother.

The ceremony was simple and short. There were multiple speakers and every once in a while, you checked Yeonjun’s facial expression to see how he was holding up.  

You noticed how the same hollowness returned if he didn’t have to act like the perfect son to all the attendees, and it worried you.  

After his mother took the stage, shedding a few rehearsed tears, they lowered the casket, and the ceremony was basically over with. Watching his mother put on such an academy award-winning performance, made you realize that apart from you, your friends and the immediate family, no one knew what kind of person Choi Daniel really was.

It made you sick to your stomach that he was being honoured as if he was some type of hero.

A few hours pass before the last guests leave the house. Your group was seated together in the formal living room, and when Yeonjun enters with an exhausted look on his face, all of you fall quiet as you stare at him.

He let himself fall onto the lounge chair and loosened his tie, slouching down in his seat as he threw his head back.

“Are you okay?” Mia asks, being the first to speak up.

“I’m just drained I guess,” Yeonjun says rubbing his temples.

“Well, we are leaving tomorrow, so we can go back to our normal lives asap. I feel like I’ve walked into some K-drama.” Taehyun retorts as he sits down as well.

Yeonjun lifts his head, biting his lip as he looks at the group of people he cares about the most. “Right, about that…”

His eyes find yours and you can already see that he’s sorry about something.

You cock your head to the side, waiting for him to continue, and then he sighs.

“I’m not coming back with you guys,” he says apologetically. “At least…not for a while. I can’t just leave my mom in the midst of all of this. There's so much more that needs to be taken care of…”

Your heart sank a little, but it was understandable for him to stick around longer. 

Mia narrowed her eyes at Yeonjuns words, and the guys just hummed understandingly.

“How long will you be gone for then?” Hueningkai asks.

“Till the end of Summer I think,” Yeonjun replies, his eyes finding yours.

You understood the circumstances, but you were shocked, to say the least. Even though you’ve been together non-stop since the incident, he hadn’t talked to you about it.

He gave you a sad look when you avoided his gaze, which Mia noticed as she looked at you two.

Yeonjun decided he had enough of the gloomy atmosphere and decided to crack open his fathers’ expensive collection of aged wines and scotches.  

Since they were at home, he let the minors indulge a little too. Everyone was letting loose a little. The old playful group dynamic returned slowly but you were still lost in thought about Yeonjun’s decision to stay behind.

He noticed how you sat far away from him and sighed. He walked towards you. Asking you to come with him to the kitchen and you agreed. Feeling that it was best to talk about this before you make matters worse by overthinking.

You took a seat at the breakfast bar, waiting for him to start talking, but he just looked at you with concern.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he says.

“I was just…speaking to so many people today and I realized I can’t just pretend that this part of my life doesn’t exist anymore. Especially now that he’s gone.”

“Yeonjun, I’m not mad. I just…don't get why you would tell me you love me when you knew that you weren’t going to come back with us," you say as you play with your fingers

His eyes widened and he got closer to you. Taking a hold of your hands after he made you look up at him by tugging at your chin.

“Hey, It’s just a few weeks. Nothing will change the way I feel about you; I promise. I just need time to unravel all of these family secrets. I never got to ask him why he didn’t trust my mother and after today I just…I have to figure it out.” 

You nod, understanding completely. Somehow you wanted him to ask you to stay here with him for the rest of summer, but the fact that he didn’t was all that you needed to know.

“Don’t be sad okay, we’ll stay in contact,” he says as he caresses your cheek. 

You nod and lean into his touch which made him smile. He inched his face closer to kiss you softly.  

You didn’t know what, but something was off about him. He looked at you with affection but at the same time, his eyes were hollow, almost soulless.  

A small knock on the wall snaps both of you back to reality, your heads snap back to see Mia in the doorway looking at you both seriously.  

“Y/n, Soobin needs your help with something.” She says as she gives you a small smile.

You frown, and so does Yeonjun, but you decide to go see for yourself, not thinking much of it.

“Alright then?” you say as you get up from the barstool, walking towards the formal living room.

Mia’s gaze followed you out the door, and before Yeonjun could walk back to the living room with you. She stops him.

“You’re not coming back are you?” She asks, looking him in the eye sternly.

Well, fuck.

Yeonjun sighs. He should have known. Mia sees through anyone’s bullshit; and given how protective she is of y/n. He knew he had to tell her the truth before she beat it out of him.

“I’m not sure yet,” he admits, avoiding eye contact with her.

Mia’s shoulder fell, her eyes getting sad. It was just an assumption she had, but she didn’t expect him to tell her the truth this easily.

“Yeonjun…you can’t do that to her.”

“Don’t you think I don’t know that?” he says raising his voice a little. He glanced through the hall at the group, making sure you didn’t hear him before his gaze returned to Mia.

She stared back at him in disbelief, waiting for him to explain himself.

“I just…I need time. I can’t be what she deserves the way I am now. It could take weeks, months, maybe even years but you have to believe me that I’m doing it for her,” he says trying to make Mia understand.

“If there was another way, I’d do it, but after today my world turned dangerous. There are too many people after the company. Money makes people do crazy things and I don’t want her anywhere near it. Y/n has to be protected at all costs. I have to handle this on my own.”  

Mia exhaled loudly, trying to gather her thoughts as her hand lands on her forehead.

“I love her more than anyone Mia. I do. You have to believe that I’m doing this in her best interest.”

Mia just shakes her head, swallowing harshly before she makes eye contact again.  

“What about the guys.”

“They have each other, and y/n has you. You have to promise me you’ll be there for her.”

“Yeonjun...I-”

“Promise me.”

Mia sighs, defeated in a game she never even played. She closes her eyes, nodding at his request.

"Ok, I promise.”  

Chapter 10

[daddysfangirls-anime]

Drunk confessions

Pairing: Levi x reader

Warning: language, fluff, drunk

Summary: Playing a game the impossible happens Levi gets drunk and confessions to many things including to loving (y/n). Now he’s got to deal with his confession in the morning

How could this possible happen, he tolerance was suppose to be extra fucking high, it was extra fucking high. How did this happen? It all started with a drinking game, never have I ever.

It started out fun and everyone was there the questions were silly and everyone was drunk. Hanji had suggested the game.

“Come on it will be fun it’s a game” Hanji said as she held up a bottle of alcohol

“ how do you play” Jean asked as he held out his glass letting Hanji poor some of the burning liquid in everyone else did the same.

“Never have I ever. This is how you play you say ‘never have I ever’ and continue on if someone has done it they’ll drink if they haven’t they don’t. For example never have I ever kissed a girl. If you’ve kissed a girl drink” All the boys drank.

“oh I get it. My turn” Sasha raised her hand “never have I ever kissed a boy” all the girls, except Christa and Sasha, drank. Levi also drank but he was so far of in the corner that no one noticed. No one but (y/n) she raised her eyebrow as Levi shrugged and brought the cup to his lips.

The game continued on the questions were silly but most of everybody was getting drunk. Mikasa  was the first one passed out after her three drink  Armin was still up but his words were now so slurred no one knew what he was saying Eren the soberest between three helped the other two to bed. Sasha was giggling her ass off at absolutely nothing just giggling just because Connie was a clinging drunk and held on to Sasha or Reiner. Reiner seemed to be a quiet drink only talking a little bit mostly lost in his own head Bertholdt was lucky enough to drag all three of them to bed. Ymir was an angry drunk and was dragged of to bed by Christa right after Mikasa. Jean passed out on the floor Hanji had volunteer to drag him to bed.

Now only Levi and (y/n) were left as much as the two drank they only seemed to be tipsy, Levi more tipsy than (y/n).Moving the two now both sat silently in front of each other.

“ never have I ever …. met my mother” (y/n) said Levi drank.

“what happen?”

“died during birth lived with my old man and my aunt. Turns out he was screwing her during my moms pregnancy”

“Never have I ever meet my father” (y/n) drank “he was one of my mom ‘Clients’ never meet him don’t even know who he is” Truth be told Levi did actually look and ask question when he was younger but after a while he gave up. He was a prostitutes baby he had no father.

“Never have I ever had planned to be in the survey crop”  neither drank

‘Erwin found me in the under ground brought me. I became a soldier against my will.”

“My father and  aunt were both soldier they forced me to join then died by the time I graduated.” It was true both her father and her aunt were high ranging soldiers in the military she was suppose to be just like them and join the military branch and she was going to until Trost fell. That day she witnessed her cowardly father run away from battle and her aunt beg forgiven in the jaws of a titan (Y/N) felt no emotions.

“Never have I ever … killed anybody” neither of them drank

“I use to be a thug in the underground I killed a few people. I almost killed Erwin.” He was a thug he ran the underground of course a few bodies dropped dead around him. Thought he did valued human life he had no problem taking it.

“I was out late in a place I shouldn’t have been I was 11 years old” She had gone to far from home and the sun was down before she could make it back. In the dark a group of three men came out she listened as they followed her and spoke of selling her off on the black market. With a pocket knife she stole from her father she killed two and injured one she was 11 years old.

“never have I ever blacked out drunk” Levi drank (y/n) smiled

“never have I ever….played and instrument”  (y/n) drank Levi smirked.

The game picked up again and they were in a lighter mood now. Levi was drinking more and more (y/n) had a cup or two but it didn’t really get her drunk. But then again seeing as her drinks were watered down she wouldn’t really get drunk. Also she had read his file and knew what questions to ask to get him drinking.

A little after mid-night and Levi was wasted (y/n) had stopped drinking a long time ago and was just enjoying the show now. For the past few hours she had been asking questions she would get really interesting answers  some funny some sad and die serious. She had learned a lot from drunk Levi.

When he first arrived he had a crush on Hanji but later grew out of it and they became bestfriends. How Petra had a crush on him and he was well aware of it but choose to ignore it and now after her death regretted his actions. He even, briefly, spoke of his bother who he loved very much. But now he was on a new topic of someone he was sure he was 100% in love with.

It broke (y/n) heart to hear this she had been loving him from a far. As brave as she was on the field and against Titans she could not find that same courage to confess her feeling to Levi. Even though it wasn’t her she wanted to know who was this girl that got a spot in her Captain’s heart and make sure she was good enough for him. Even though  it hurt she was going to make sure this girl was good for him and then help him get her.

“Who is this girl” it pained her to asked as she clenched her chest

“she’s so beautiful I actually begged Erwin to put her on my team.”

He begged for her.

“she’s smart to even though she doesn’t talk much she is very smart. Sometimes I have her do my paperwork her hand writing is pretty”

“ what’s her name?”

“she hangs with those brats Eren and his friends all the time. I hate seeing that brat all over her”

“what does she look like” (y/n) voice cracked Levi didn’t noticed

“she beautiful, gorgeous, stunning, I can’t find the right word but she’s one of a kind”

she was beautiful.

“ I… I love her”

Oh god he loved her.

“I love her I love (y/n)”

oh no he loved (y/n)… wait I’m (y/n).

“you love me”

“but don’t tell her I’m not ready to tell her yet. I don’t think she loves me” (y/n) smiled and laughed as she continued to listen to tell her not to tell her that he loved her. It was very confusing if you forgot he was drunk. After spending another 30 minutes of listening to him talk about how much he loved her she decided it was time for him to go to bed.

“ This way Captain” (y/n) said as she lead Levi to his room he was all over the place rambling on about nonsense and someone named Kenny. (y/n) tried her best to keep him quite and get him to his room without an incident. “here we are” (y/n) said as she opened Levi’s door and he fell in “oops” he said as he started falling a sleep on the floor. “Nope bed’s this way” (y/n) dragged him to bed removing his straps, jacket, shirt, shoes, and socks she tucked Levi into bed.

“goodnight” hesitated at first she placed a kiss on him,  thought to be sleeping, forehead then tried to leave. “wait…. please don’t leave me. Don’t leave me again.” Levi gripped her wrist preventing her from leaving (y/n) eyes wide in shock but she spoke “I would never captain”.

She removed her shoes and coat climbing into bed with Levi. She’d probably get in trouble when he woke up in the morning but that would okay at least she got to spend the night with him. Levi spooned her as they slept his breath giving her comfort as it fans on the back of her neck. His arms giving her warmth. She’d loose this in the morning and have stall duty for a month maybe two. But right now she was going to savor this moment and sleep in his arms.

The next morning (y/n) woke up in a shock she was in Levi’s bed, Why was she in Levi’s bed? Everything for the night before rushed back to her. “oh shit, oh shit, oh shit “ she mumbled as she picked up her coat and shoes. While pulling on her jacket the bathroom door opened out stepped a cleaned and showered Levi.

“what..” he sighed “ what did we do last? you’re dressed so no sex but you’re in my bed so I’ve got to ask.” Levi had a low hanging towel around his waist. (y/n) was very distracted by his god like body it was dripping wet.

“um….you got drunk…. asked me to stay… so I did. But I’ll leave now I won’t say anything.” (y/n) gather her coat and shoes and tried to leave but Levi stopped her again.

“ did I say anything” he asked hesitantly

“ yes”

“what did I say”

“You told me things….. you said you …..you loved me. But you were drunk so it’s okay if you didn’t mean it” (y/n) began to leave again.

“What if I did, mean it I mean. what if I meant it “ (y/n) was half way out the door as she heard Levi.

Turning around she said “ well since you’re sober now I would say… I love you too” and with that she shut the door leaving Levi with a shocked expression and a raging hangover.

[queenofimagines]

Stranger from Out of Town

Summary: Arvin had no reason to be here. After the things he’d done, he had no reason to be blessed with an angel like you. But after spending so long on the run, after spending so long looking over his shoulder, he couldn’t help but fall in love with the one person who made him feel safe. All is well and good in Arvin’s life until one determined and obsessed sheriff decides it’s time to pay Arvin a visit.

Notes: Ya’ll, this one’s a doosey but I hope you enjoy it anyways. For the purposes of this pic, Bodecker is still alive.

When Arvin woke up that morning he could feel that something was different. Arvin’s life had been flipped upside down by his own actions that had ultimately been what forced him to live his life on the run. He had spent the better part of a year running, zigzagging across the country in the hopes of shaking the authorities off; first traveling down to Georgia, then up to Iowa, then back down towards Texas and so on before finally finding permanent resident. Arvin knew what the rest of his life would look like from here on out. He understood that he would spend the rest of his time on God’s green Earth looking over his shoulder and never finding the quiet life he longed for. Arvin knew that he was cursed, from the moment his mother had died he had been plagued with loss and he was sure he was one of the unlucky souls who had come to be the Devil’s plaything. Arvin had expected that his life would forever be riddled with rot and chaos, damned to suffer through conflict after conflict after conflict. But when Arvin opened his eyes today to the sun streaming in through window and the sound of bacon sizzling coming from the kitchen, he finally understood what it felt like to be at peace.

Arvin swung his legs over the side of the bed, hauling himself up and making his way down the hall. His steps were heavy with sleep, shuffling against the floor loud enough to alert the person in the kitchen to his presence. As Arvin drew closer, he began to hear the hum of a song that was unfamiliar to him, just barely covered by the sound of someone flipping an egg, prompting him to hurry his steps to arrive at the delicious smell and the lovely voice that had almost lulled him back to sleep where he stood. Rounding the corner, Arvin couldn’t help but grin at the sight before him. There you stood in front of the stove, still dressed in your nightgown, cooking a breakfast big enough for two. 

Two. Such a simple word with such little meaning. An insignificant word that made Arvin’s heart swell with delight. It wasn’t just him anymore, alone and scared, no, now it was him and you. To Arvin, it was hope. Arvin watched as you plated the food you had prepared before turning around and flashing him an earth shattering smile. You would never know how much it meant to him, your smile, and that you were here, right now. You would never know the kind of stability you brought to him. And he planned to keep it that way, to keep you in the dark about all the things he’d done. To keep letting you believe he was just the stranger from out of town who stole your heart.

When you met Arvin, he was just a newcomer, a lost soul who had found your quaint little town practically in the middle of nowhere. He had stirred up quit a buzz when he walked into your parents’ little diner, asking if there was any place he could stay the night, but seeing as your town was so small, small enough that it could safely be left off of most maps and small enough that tourism wasn’t a main source of income, the answer was unequivocally no. Your father, who had been Arvin had the luck of plopping himself next to, informed him that the closest motel was almost a three hours drive away. Arvin remembered staring out the window, watching the last rays of light vanish, his hope along with it. It would be impossible for him to get someone to see him this late at night, let alone actually stop for him. Arvin felt like he could cry in that moment, but your mother, ever the good Christian woman, had offered to let him stay at your house until tomorrow morning. Arvin was grateful that your mother had been so kind, and in retrospect you were too, but you remembered how much you resented Arvin when your mother told you he would be staying with you. At first, you were all for it, one night with an attractive stranger from out of town in your house wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, but the next day both Arvin and your father came home in the afternoon after they had supposedly left to take Arvin to the next town over earlier that morning.

“Turns out this boy knows his way around a car,” your father had said, beaming.  He had later told your mother privately that he had offered Arvin a place to stay with your family and a smaller than average wage in exchange for his help around the shop. Your father owned the only car shop in town and was in desperate need of a new assistant, and seeing as you didn’t want anything to do with being a mechanic, your father saw Arvin as a golden opportunity, someone to possibly pass the torch to. Your mother was more than happy to let him stay, finding his handiness around the house useful, but you were less  ready to welcome him into your life. Arvin had garnered a lot of attention, especially from the female population, and most of the girls at your school would pretend to be your friend in the hopes that you would invite them over, just so they could get a glimpse at him. It only got worse when your parents had commissioned Arvin to pick you up and drop you off to school. The girls would stare, trying to get a closer look at Arvin, a few of them even having the courage to go up and talk to him. It made you sick, that attention he got and how much he seemed to enjoy it. You had convinced yourself that it was skepticism about his character, but now that you look back on it, it was nothing more than petty jealousy that bubbled in your stomach. It was stupid, really, to be jealous that a boy was giving other girl’s his attention, especially since you hadn’t seemed very keen on the idea of him even being in your town, but what you didn’t know was that it wasn’t the attention that Arvin enjoyed, it was the fact that in the people around him, in the kindness that people showed him, Arvin could see a future here; a future with you.

From the moment Arvin laid his eyes on you, he was smitten, he would even go as far as to say it was love at first sight. Arvin wouldn’t confess this to you until almost a year after you’d met when he tried to ask you to prom (with your parents’ permission, of course). It was honestly a train wreck and did not go at all how he had planned. Arvin had invited you out to the town’s gazebo, he had strung up lights as best he could and set up a nice little dinner for the two of you. He saw a figure slowly approach, thinking it was you, only to be disappointed when Susan Hall, who Arvin remembered you hated with a passion, stepped into the light and flung herself at him, telling him how sweet it was of him to do this and attempting to kiss him. You had seen the whole thing and, devastated, you ran away, Arvin chasing after you. He had caught up to you in the woods behind your parents’ property and explained what had happened, confessing that he loved you and only you. You believed him, and rightfully so, as you later found out that Susan had crashed your plans on purpose to try and steal Arvin from you.

Looking back on it now, with you leaning against his in the small house that you had bought the second you graduated high school with the little money both of you had saved up and some help from your parents, Arvin was glad he had ended up in your dreary town, no matter how complicated your relationship had been when it first started. He watched as you admired the ring on your finger, smiling at it as if you had been missing it all your life, the now empty dishes sitting in your sink waiting to be washed. It was times like this Arvin remembered why he had to keep his past life from you a secret. He loved you and often found himself wanting to tell you all about his past life. Every time you asked why he looked like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders Arvin wanted nothing more than to tell you everything, but Arvin loved you too much to let you go and he couldn’t bare to think of what would happen if you knew what he did.

“Darlin’, I gotta get ready for work.” He said, lips pressed against the crown of your head.

“Why don’t you call in sick today,” you suggested.

“I would but your dad would kill me.”

“You know he loves you Arvin.”

“Yeah, that’s why I don’t wanna disappoint ‘im.” With one final kiss to your head, Arvin stood up and made his way to your shared bedroom. You began to clean the dishes, not having to go into the diner until later that day. As you began cleaning the last pan in the sink, a sturdy knock came from your door.

“I’ll get it!” You yelled, hearing Arvin begin to hurry to the front door. You had opened the door just as Arvin arrived at the end of the hallway. In front of you stood a tall man with a sheriff’s badge pinned to his shirt.

“Mornin’ ma’am, my name’s Lee Bodecker,” The man said. “I’m looking for a man named Arvin Russell and I heard I might find him here.”

“Arvin?” You repeated, confusion written all over your face. You turned to look at your husband, eyebrows furrowed in a silent question. From where the sheriff stood, he couldn’t see Arvin, his figure being blocked by the door, but if he leaned ever so slightly to the left he might be able to peer into the house and see there was someone else there. You knew something was wrong, you had never seen Arvin look as scared as he did now, so without a second thought, you had gently closed the door so that your body filled the gap it created, leaning against the door frame in an attempt to feign nonchalance.

“I’m sorry, Mister, but there ain’t no Arvin Russell here. Whoever told you there was must have been misinformed.”

“You sure about that?”

“Sure as the hair on my head.”

“Oh, alright. Then may I ask who it was you called to just before you opened the door?”

“My husband.” You said after a long pause, caught off guard by the man’s question.

“Mind if I speak with him?”

“Well I don’t but I’m not sure how you’d feel about seein’ him naked. He’s takin’ a shower right now.” You began gently tapping your foot, your nerves beginning to get the better of you. You had never been all that good at lying, something about it made you feel wrong, dirty. But you needed to protect your husband, after all, it’s what he would do for you.

“Then would you mind if I waited.”

“Actually I would. I have to leave for work soon and, with all do respect, I don’t much like leaving a stranger unattended in my house.”

With a small nod and a tip of the hat, the man bid you goodbye, getting into his car and driving off. You closed the door and turned to Arvin. It was silent for a long time, you waited for Arvin to explain himself but Arvin didn’t know what to say. His worst nightmare was coming true and he was terrified that your love for him wouldn’t be strong enough to survive this.

“Arvin,” You said, as calmly as you could, not wanting to spook him or yourself anymore, though it proved a lot harder that you thought. “Why was that man at our door?”

Arvin opened his mouth as if to say something but for the life of him he couldn’t find the words. He was frustrated with himself, and from the looks of it you were getting pretty frustrated at him to.

“Arvin,” you said more firmly. “I just lied to a goddamn sheriff for you. Please, tell me what’s going on.”

Arvin took a deep breathe before explaining everything to you. He told you about Lenora, and how hung herself. About the preacher and Bodecker and about Bodecker’s sister and her crazy husband. He explained everything he had done with complete and utter honesty. And he cried, longing to reach out for you but knowing his hands were too tainted to be worthy of ever holding something as beautifully pure as you. You didn’t know what to say. On the one hand, you understood his reasoning. To you, it seemed like the people Arvin had killed had it coming. But on the other hand, your husband had killed people. It didn’t matter what the reason was, taking a person’s life was a sin, something unforgivable in the holy book. Despite your better judgement, your decision ultimately came down to this: Arvin was your husband, and you loved him.

You slowly approached Arvin’s shaking figure, gently wrapping your arms around his shoulders and threading your hands through his hair. Arvin broke down into sobs, holding you impossibly close to him as if he needed you more than the air he breathed.

“Arvin,” You said once he had stopped crying, your own tears beginning to fall as you realized that there was only one option left for you both. “Arvin, we need to go.”

“What?”

“We need to go.” He gently pulled away from you, looking into your eyes, checking to make sure he heard you correctly.

“B-but this is our home.”

“I know Arvin, but that sheriff didn’t believe a word I said and he’s gonna be asking around town for you. It won’t be long until word of what you’ve done begins to spread. We need to leave before it’s too late.”

You gently ushered Arvin towards the bedroom and told him to begin packing a bag, unaware of the figure lurking at your backdoor. Bodecker had listened in on your conversation, hearing every word you and Arvin had spoken to each other, preparing for the right moment to make himself known. It was now or never, he thought, hearing you tell Arvin to pack a bag. As quietly as possible, Bodecker broke the lock on your back door, slowly making his way towards your bedroom. The door was wide open, he could see you and Arvin darting around the room trying to find your essentials. It was almost perfect, how unaware you both were. How wrapped up you were in yourselves that you didn’t even notice a 6 foot tall man practically right in front of you. With a sadistic smile, Bodecker raised his shotgun.

You froze when you heard someone pump a shotgun behind you, whipping around to find Bodecker standing just a few feet from you, gun aimed at Arvin. Your heart was beating so hard you thought it might burst, the thought of losing Arvin only increasing the adrenaline that was currently coursing through you.

“You thought you could get away, didn’t you?” Bodecker asked.

“Please, your sister and her husband, t-they were gonna kill me I didn’t hav-”

“I don’t care! You killed my sister. My sister! You killed the only person I loved Arvin. And now, I’m gonna return the favor.” In one swift motion, Bodecker turned to point the gun at you, raising his gun higher to aim at you properly. You closed your eyes before hearing the bang of a gun. You waited, standing stock still as the terror of the situation slowly got to you, but you didn’t feel pain, instead you felt a set of hands holding your face, a voice softly telling you to open your eyes. You did as you were told, seeing Arvin in front of you, eyes frantic. You looked at the ground next to him, an unfamiliar gun next to Arvin’s foot. You came to the realization that Arvin must have used it to shoot Bodecker, your suspicion being proven correct when your eyes landed on Bodecker’s now lifeless body laying in a pool of his own blood.

“A-Arvin-” Arvin softly hushed you.

“It’s okay, you’re okay now.” Arvin pulled you closer to him, cradling your head and shielding you from the body. Soon you could hear sirens in the distance, the panic slowly rising inside of you again. You could feel Arvin begin to panic too, his breathing starting to pick up.

“H-his badge.” You said, pulling away from Arvin, scared that he would be taken away from you. “We-we need to get rid of h-his badge. A-and any identification he has. It has to look like an- like an accident”

“R-right. Right, okay, uh...” Arvin began searching Bodecker’s body, quickly finding both his badge and ID and hiding them in a small hollow under one of the floor boards where you kept your savings. You and Arvin quickly came up with a cover, agreeing to keep it simple. The police arrived not long after, conducting an interview and putting you both through due process. You told them what you and Arvin had agreed to say, that the man broke into your house and tried to rob you, but thanks to Arvin’s quick thinking, Arvin was able to get to his gun and shoot the intruder. The policemen interviewing you were  skeptical, wondering why neither of you called the police after killing the man. You blamed it on shock, saying that Arvin’s first instinct was to comfort you, the intruder did have a gun pointed at you, after all. The policemen eventually dropped the subject, seeing you begin to tear up as the adrenaline and shock of the day began to ware off. Your parents came to get you and Arvin, offering you both your old room at their house until they were able to get someone to fix your back door, an offer that the both of you readily accepted. That night you and Arvin held each other just a little bit tighter, neither one of you finding sleep to come easy.

“We can’t tell anyone what happened today.” Arvin said, rubbing your back in an attempt to soothe you.

“I know.” You replied, tightly clutching onto his shirt. “I love you, Arvin.”

“I love you, too, Darlin’”

You didn’t know what would come out of tonight. You didn't know if you were making a mistake by trusting Arvin after everything he had done. You weren’t sure if you were messed up for loving a murderer or if you were right in believing that Arvin was doing good, even if it meant doing some more than questionable things. But you knew one thing, you knew you loved Arvin and that he loved you, and that you both would always protect each other, no matter the cost.

[lia-jones]

Growing Together - Chapter Twenty-Seven - Footsteps

Before you start:

This work is unbeta'd and English is not my first language. I apologize in advance for any mistakes you may find.

Victor sighed in relief as he placed his keys on the plate in the hallway, finally finding himself at home after a terrible day at work. It had been meeting after meeting, barely having time for lunch, his phone ringing off the hook, numerous emails waiting for him when he dared to look at his inbox.

To add insult to injury, his day wasn't exactly over. Victor couldn't wait to lie on his sofa and simply enjoy the evening nursing a glass of brandy with his wife in his arms, but he would have to spend it on his study instead, all alone, to attend a conference call with the team in Paris, who was in a different timezone.

His bad mood was somewhat eased with the aroma of delicious food being cooked, his heart taking solace in the sound of his wife and son's voices bantering in the kitchen. At least he was finally home, he comforted himself. For the time being, he would indulge in a hot relaxing shower and a nice dinner with his family.

Owen was always the first to notice when Victor or Andrea arrived, and as usual, he was the first to greet him, running to his arms. Although Victor had been feeling back pain pretty much all day, a customary symptom when he was overly stressed, such was immediately forgotten the moment he had his son in his arms. With heartfelt laughter, Victor threw the boy in the air, having him land safely in his arms with a very tight hug. And just like magic, Victor immediately felt better. His family was all he needed to recover from that awful day and get back on his feet to face another battle.

"What is your mother up to?" Victor asked, playfully disheveling the boy's red curls.

"She's in the kitchen, making dinner. I helped." He beamed at his father. "It's Mom's special fish and shrimp stew."

Bouillabaise, one of his favorites. Comfort food was exactly what he needed. Putting the boy down, Victor moved to the kitchen to find his wife minding the large pot on the stove. He hugged her from behind, his chin leaning on the top of her head.

"Hello, handsome." She turned her head to look at him.

"Hmm." He groaned, burying his face in the nape of her neck, taking comfort in her scent and the softness of her skin.

"Long day?" She reached back to run her fingers through his hair, slightly scratching his scalp, making Victor almost purr in delight.

"Hmmmm." He moaned, too entertained with how she was making him feel to form a proper answer.

"You’re tense." She declared as she reached back to feel his shoulders.

"Just a little tired." His arms circled her waist, as she turned to him.

"Dinner will be ready in 10." She spoke while she continued to work on the knots of his shoulders. "Get yourself out of that suit and have a shower. We got it covered here."

She playfully hit him in the chest, pushing him away from her. As revenge, Victor stole a kiss, a soft sweet kiss that made her sigh when he broke it. Feeling smug with her reaction, he left Andrea to her own devices, heading for the bedroom. A steamy shower definitely sounded very good. Despite Andy's massage, his shoulders still felt sore.

"Owen has some news for us today." His wife declared at the dinner table, winking at their son.

"Let's hear it." Victor lifted his eyes to his son, giving him his undivided attention.

"Next week it will be Career Day at my school." Owen said, excited. "They want us to bring one of our parents to class for Show and Tell, to explain to our classmates what they do for a job."

"What an excellent initiative." Victor nodded in approval, reaching for his glass of wine. "You could ask your mother, she will have a lot to talk about, between her study and LCG."

Owen didn't reply, looking down instead.

"I'm not the only option on the table here." His wife intervened. "You could go."

"Nonsense, you are clearly the best option." Victor retorted. "You could bring the GESA award to show the kids, talk about the study, your work at LCG, how your ideas may change the economy as we know it. Besides, you are practically their size. I bet they will find that both amusing and inspiring." He teased.

His wife was glaring at him, probably not happy with his witty remark.

"I think your mother should go, Owen." Victor concluded, trying to diffuse the tension his joke caused. "I'm sure she will do an excellent job."

"Would you mind coming, Mom?" Owen mumbled, looking down.

"Of course I wouldn't, Bug. It will be my pleasure." She caressed the boy's hair lovingly, a hint of sadness in her smile.

Victor watched both of them, somewhat intrigued. Why were both so morose? Weren't they happy with his suggestion?

"May I be excused?" Owen placed his napkin on the table. "I need to feed my ants."

"You may." Victor smiled. "By the way, how is the colony going?"

"Well." Owen left the kitchen without any other word.

Victor furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. When it came to his ant colony, Owen was usually a lot more talkative.

"What's the matter with him?" He almost whispered to his wife. "Did something else happen at school?"

"You are a clueless idiot." Andrea threw at him, irritated.

"What!? Why? What did I do?"

"Don't you think that if he wanted me to go, he would have asked me already?" She scolded him. "He wanted to invite you, and you shot him down before he had a chance."

"Me? You are obviously the best choice, why would he want me?"

"Because you are his father, you big moron!" She almost yelled, carefully adjusting her tone after. "Look, you are his father figure, his male example, the one that he looks up to. He never really had anything like that before. This is important for him, he finally has a father he can be proud of. Basically, he wants to show you off to his friends. God only knows why, you’re an idiot in a suit."

For a brief moment, Victor recalled the moment he sought out for his father's attention and approval, only to be met with closed doors and reprimands on how children shouldn’t waste an adult's time with trivialities. He remembered how much it hurt him to be ignored, to not be important, to be treated like a nuisance. Victor refused to let his son go through the same thing, but most importantly, he refused to be the one making Owen feel like that.

"I see."

"Finally. Now go fix it." She urged.

He found the boy sitting with his legs crossed on the floor, staring absentmindedly at his ant farm. He could see himself at that very same age, and almost guess what was going through his son's mind. Owen was probably blaming himself for not being interesting enough, trying to find a way to make his father notice him.

Victor sat silently on the bed, waiting for Owen to acknowledge his presence. The boy looked at him with sad brown eyes, deep and dark, making the freckles on his nose stand out.

"Is it bedtime yet?" Owen asked, getting up from the floor.

"No, I just wanted to have a word with you."

"Am I in trouble?"

"Do we only talk when you're in trouble?" Victor couldn't help but feel slightly offended. "Sit beside me."

Owen obeyed, sitting next to his father, an expectant look on his face. Victor took a moment to think about how he would approach the subject. He couldn't tell the boy about the conversation he just had with his mother.

"Maybe we made a hasty decision regarding who is coming to Career Day."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I did say your mother was the best choice. However, after careful consideration, I think I may be a very interesting choice as well. I mean, I know most of your friends from playing soccer in the park, I'm fairly popular already. One could even say I'm... cool."

"You want to go?"

"That is for you to decide. But I would be honored if you’d take me."

"I was going to ask you." Owen confessed. "I even asked Mom if that would hurt her feelings, and she said she would be happy if I chose you."

"Why didn't you say so, then?"

"Because I know you are very busy, especially now that you are opening that new business in France. I overheard Mom scolding you the other day for not getting enough sleep. I thought you were saying Mom could go because you were too tired. And if you are too tired, it's selfish of me to ask."

Victor smiled at the little boy as he pulled him into his lap. He was barely five, and he could be so considerate. He playfully poked his little freckled nose.

"Even if that was the case, even if I was too tired, I would still go. You know why?"

The boy shook his head.

"Because I love you." Victor replied in a soft voice. "You are my son, and there is nothing I wouldn't do for you."

Small arms wrapped around Victor's neck in a tight hug. And the sweetest voice spoke the sweetest words.

"I love you too, Dad. Thank you for doing this, it will be so cool!” He jumped excitedly. “I can already imagine what my classmates will say about the cool things you do at work! Do you know what you will bring to your presentation? Megan's father is a trainer at the zoo, she says he may bring a parrot!"

Victor's stomach turned cold. Only at that moment did he realize what he truly agreed on.

The task sounded fairly simple: to explain his job to a room full of five-year-olds. It turned out, it was a lot harder than he expected.

His job entailed many complicated concepts, like risk assessment and profit analysis, and had big words like enterprise value, equity, and horizontal integration. Those things were already hard enough to explain to a child, but worse than that, they were boring. He had to make his job look interesting, and although it would be fairly easy to seduce an adult by showing profit, children didn't respond to money. He had to make it entertaining, and simple. Yet, he had no idea how. Nothing about his job would seem entertaining to a child.

But then one day, while running, he recalled his Economics teacher’s words from one of his lectures: Economy has existed since primitive times, where things were much simpler, and an economic transaction meant trading meat for animal skin or a cutting tool. The act of trading baseball cards during recess could be considered an economic transaction. To explain it, he would just have to trade the fancy terms for things children could relate to.

Finally, he had a plan. A good one. That didn't mean he wasn't nervous.

“Do you want to call Mom and tell her to come instead?” The boy asked from the backseat as they were driving to school.

“What? No, I’m fine.” Victor gripped the wheel tighter, trying to steady himself.

“Are you sure?” Victor saw his boy frown from the rearview mirror. “You look like you have a tummy ache.”

Did he? He immediately relaxed his face, trying to remain expressionless.

“Mom told me you would be like this.” Owen smiled with a knowing look. “She told me to tell you that you just need to use the charm you used on her.”

Yes, Victor could do that, he had some good moments with Andrea. Well, apart from the interview, and when her car broke down, with the heavy rain and... nipples. And being so embarrassed he could barely speak. The memory only made him more nervous.

He marched bravely into school with a box full of containers with cherries and a bag full of lollipops. Owen was exhilarated to have his father with him, jumping happily in the halls, showing him every piece of art he had made that was on display. Victor, on the other hand, was sweating from nervousness, hoping the AC in Owen's classroom was freezing cold. The teacher jumped on the spot when she saw him.

“Mr. Lee?” She came to him hurriedly, looking puzzled when she saw Victor place the containers in one of the empty desks. “The Principal didn’t tell me you were visiting. By the way, where is he? Are you here unattended? Is this about a fund or something? How can I help you?”

“I’m here for Career Day. We still haven’t had the pleasure to meet.” Victor extended his hand to the teacher. “I’m Victor Lee, Owen’s father.”

“Owen, you didn’t tell me your father was Victor Lee!” She looked down on the boy, flushed.

“I told you my father was a CEO.” Owen quipped, frowning slightly.

“Well, still, how would I know it was Victor Lee?”

“My name is Owen Lee.”

The teacher fanned herself, eyeing Victor with a weird smile.

“Mr. Lee, I know that our installations aren’t quite what you are used to, but I hope you do feel welcome.”

“I’m sure they will do perfectly, thank you.”

Victor was wrong. The chairs were too small for an adult, especially one of his stature. However, standing up was also not an option, as he would be beside Owen and he would block the view, so he had no choice but to sit on the tiny chair, with his legs awkwardly crossed, looking like an idiot.

Megan's father was the first, and he did bring the parrot, making him do all kinds of tricks. The children and the teacher laughed at the animal's shenanigans, and Victor couldn't help but feel disheartened, knowing this presentation would be very hard to top.

Then came Caleb's mother, who was a physician. She taught the kids the many functions of the main organs in the human body, bringing with her a kidney in a jar. The class was rowdy as they passed the jar around, amazed to be able to see a real kidney, like the ones they had in their very small bodies.

"Next we have Owen's father, Mr. Lee, a very successful entrepreneur in Loveland. He will talk about his job as a CEO of an investment company." The teacher announced.

Victor faced the twenty children in front of him, who were looking at him with wide eyes, waiting for him to start. In almost 15 years of being a CEO, he had attended important meetings with notorious businessmen, oil tycoons, rulers and politicians. He had dinner meetings with the mafia and other shady characters, people that held incredible power and precious information, but could also kill him without a second thought.

He could conclude, without a shadow of a doubt, that children were scarier.

For a second he wished he could be like Andrea. She would know what to do. She would probably greet the children with a goofy gesture, making them all laugh. She was fun and witty, she knew what children liked. Victor paused, remembering his wife’s words through his son’s mouth. He could be funny too, he always made her laugh, it had become one of his favorite hobbies. Maybe she was right. Maybe he could do this. With a new sense of confidence, and with a side note to thank his wife for her encouraging words, Victor approached his audience.

“Good afternoon, Ladies and Gentlemen.” He started, ceremoniously. “First of all, I would like to thank you for your time and attention, and the honor of your invitation. My name is Victor Lee, and I’m the CEO of Loveland Financial Group.”

Encouraged by their teacher, all the children applauded.

“Before I begin to explain exactly what I do, let me start with a question. Who knows what an investor does?”

All the children were quiet until a little girl spoke.

“Is it someone who goes to the market and screams ‘Buy! Buy!’ and ‘Sell! Sell!’?

“You mean the stock market?” Victor chuckled. “Yes, it can be, although there are many kinds of investments. At LFG, what we do is help companies grow by lending them money, which they pay us, but with interest. Does anyone know what interest is?”

Many kids raised their hands.

“Is it when things aren’t boring? Like, they are interesting?”

“Ha. No.” Victor forgot that the words would have a different meaning to five-year-olds. “For example, someone asks LFG for ten dollars. The company lends it but asks in return for eleven dollars. That extra dollar is the interest.”

“That’s not very nice.” A freckled boy raised his hand. “Sharing is caring.”

Victor felt himself blush slightly. The boy had made a perfectly logical remark that unfortunately didn’t fit in the financial world. And he didn’t have the faintest clue on how he could explain it better.

“It is nice, because my dad doesn’t just give the money. My mom and dad work with the companies to help them grow, and they get to keep the tools she gives them forever. My dad gives them the money and asks for more because he also helps them get better.” Owen chimed in, basically saving him. Although it wasn’t exactly accurate, it wasn’t wrong either. Victor couldn’t be more proud.

“That is correct and beautifully worded, Owen, thank you.” He smiled at his boy. “Now, to fully understand the kind of work that a CEO of an investment company does, I would like to invite you all to be, for ten minutes, CEOs.” He ceremoniously declared. “Owen, could you help distribute the boxes and the candy to your friends?”

Owen quickly obliged, and in a moment, all the kids had with them a box of cherries and a lollipop.

“Ok, imagine you are the CEO of an investment company-”

“What is the company called?” The freckled boy asked again. Victor suppressed a sigh of exasperation.

“Whatever you want to call it. It’s your company.”

“Can I call it Unicorn?” A little girl raised her hand.

“Yes, you can. Now…”

“Can I call it Wayne Enterprises? Do you think I could be Batman?”

Victor’s memory took another trip down memory lane, to the day his wife blackmailed him into making that ridiculous Batman recording. He felt his cheeks getting slightly warmer. Luckily, the teacher intervened.

“Alright class, it’s nice to see you this excited but we need to let Mr. Lee speak, alright?”

“Thank you. So, as I was saying, imagine you are in a meeting, as CEOs, and two different companies are asking for investment: a lollipop factory and an orchard that grows cherries. You can pick only one. Which one would you pick? Place your hand on your choice.”

Every single child, except for one, held their lollipops. He turned to the girl that picked the cherries.

“Interesting choice. Why would you invest in the cherry producer?”

“Because I want to invest in a company that makes a lot of money. Cherries are more expensive than lollipops.”

Victor smiled at her insightfulness. She was probably a CEO in the making.

“True, but cherries only grow in the spring, that’s why they are more expensive. The candy factory can make lollipops all year.” He retorted. “You still think the orchard makes more money than the candy factory?”

“Yes, because my mom will let me have cherries but won’t buy me candy.” A boy chimed in, and other children agreed.

“Demand, very good, we need to see what sells best. What else would you use to make a decision?” Victor was excited, watching the proverbial wheels turn in their little heads. “What does it take to produce each of the products?”

“You need a factory to make lollipops. In an orchard, you just need to water the trees.”

“Very well, and you need sugar, and flavors and other ingredients, while in the cherries’ case, is given for free by nature. So, have we decided on the orchard?”

“Yes!” They screamed in unison.

“Seems like we have a unanimous decision. And for the record, what we just did here is a very simplistic version of a risk assessment, a study every investor needs to make to know if the investment is worthwhile. Of course, there are other things I do as a CEO, but I can’t possibly describe them in such a short time.” He paused for a moment, all the children’s eyes on him. “Does anyone have any questions before we finish?”

“Are all CEOs men?” A girl asked from the back.

“Of course not. Women can be CEOs too, my wife is a CEO from a different company. And if you ask me, she’s more successful than I am.” He made a silly face, and all the children laughed.

He couldn’t believe it was going so well.

“Anything else?”

“My father says businessmen are dicks in a suit.” A boy declared, while his father looked like he was close to infarction.

“Timothy!” The teacher chastised.

“Well, I can tell you that can definitely be true in some cases.” Victor spoke wholeheartedly. “In any area, you can find good and bad professionals. But let me tell you all about the three qualities I feel a good CEO should have.” Victor raised his hand, lifting his fingers as he spoke. “Intelligence, resilience, and responsibility. Intelligence because we need to know where we stand at all times and make quick decisions, and they better be the right ones, or else we can lose our business. Resilience because the financial world is a fluctuating one, and everything may change in a blink of an eye. We must be resilient enough to embrace the change, and make it work in our favor. And lastly, responsibility, because as we invest, we are not only dealing with our money or a faceless company. We can change the world with our choices, allowing technology, health, and education to evolve so there is improvement in everyone’s lives. I personally invest only in companies where employees are treated with fairness, and environmental rules are respected. We need to put the power we hold to good use and make this world a better place. If we all understand the smallest of our actions can impact the world tremendously, I’m sure miracles will happen.”

“Well, that was brilliantly said.” The teacher cleared her throat, starting to clap. “A big applause to Mr. Lee, thank you for being with us today.”

Victor returned to the car with a smug smile on his face, and a sense of accomplishment he hadn’t felt in a very long time. He had done well, he had honored his son and made him happy. However, as he started the car to leave, he saw his son through the rearview mirror, lost in thought.

“Everything ok back there?” He frowned at the mirror. “Is there something upsetting you?”

“No, I’m ok.” The boy looked up.

“You’re happy?”

“Yes.” The boy smiled.

“I think the presentation went well.” Victor started the car. “Your friends seemed to like it.”

“Yes, it was fun! And we had candy and cherries as a snack, none of the other parents brought snacks.”

Victor smirked, adding that point to his mental scoreboard.

“So why the long face?”

Owen seemed to momentaneously return to his thoughts before he answered Victor’s question.

“I don’t think I want to be an entomologist anymore.”

Victor gave his son a knowing smile.

“I knew the parrot would interest you.”

“No, parrots are dumb!” Owen seemed slightly offended. “I want to be a CEO, just like you.”

Victor could remember himself, at the same age, saying the same thing to his father, to get his approval.

“Owen, you can be whatever you want to be. I will still support you, no matter what you decide.”

“Then you’ll teach me?”

Victor smiled widely, his heart filled with pride.

“I will teach you everything I know.” He was about to offer the keys to his kingdom, but then remembered how he refused the same from his father, wanting to make his own path.

The epiphany came suddenly, clearing his vision and the fear he couldn’t shake from his heart: he had traveled a different road from his father in so many ways. He was a present and loving husband, with a healthy relationship with Andrea. And he was a present and loving partner, caring and supporting his son in every step of his life.

And that meant so much more than being a powerful CEO. Those were the footsteps he wanted his son to follow. The ones that led to happiness.

Author's Note: This project has been going for a year now (it started in February 2020) and it won't be over any time soon, so I would like to ask you, as much as possible, for your support, because we still have a very long way to go. So, if you enjoy the work, don't forget to comment and reblog. It gives it traction and enables other people to learn about it, and for me to get more excited about what I do.