#but he is charismatic and he makes a good pair with the mc so that fills the gap | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jisungsdaydreamer · 2 years ago

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Love Playlist #2: UGH! (Bang Chan)

«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME»

"Shut the fuck up."

Pairing: Bang Chan x fem!reader Genre: college au, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, forced proximity Warnings: swearing, mc has autism, misogynistic behavior (not Bang Chan), implications of ableism, bullying, short panic attack description Word Count: 11k

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It’s a truth universally acknowledged that you hate Christopher Bang’s guts. Everything about him, you hate. The utter laziness that he masks as nonchalance? The “happy-go-lucky” attitude that borders on bullheaded recklessness? The way every single time you text him about something important, he never replies? You hate it all. He’s irresponsible, aimless, completely unreliable, and you hate him.

Chris believes that the whole world revolves around him, and unfortunately, he would be correct. With dimples that rival Harry Styles’s and saccharinity biologically embedded in him, his good looks and charismatic personality blind everyone to the truth. Everyone except for you, of course.

Even if all of the supreme powers in the universe held you over an eternal chasm and forced you to find compromise, you still wouldn’t be able to stop hating him. And you hate heights— almost as much as him— so that’s saying something. Your hatred for him will never, ever waver. You hate Chris Bang, period. And you hate him even more now, as he stands next to you and accepts an honor that should solely be yours.

“Congratulations, Chris and Y/N!”

You keep clapping and plaster on a fake smile to save face, trying to ignore the rage bubbling inside of you. In your peripheral vision, you sense Christopher laughing and shooting finger guns towards people in the audience, like some kind of corrupt politician. In a way, he is one, because you should have won this election. But you didn’t.

“In all of our history, never has there been an exact voting tie between two candidates.” The sickeningly cheerful announcer bounds closer to where you are standing on the stage, gesturing towards you both. “Everyone, please give another round of applause for our new Student Co-Presidents!”

Hearing it officially made you feel nauseated. For the three years you’ve been a college student, you have worked tirelessly, day and night, so this moment could come to fruition. All of those days filled with nonsense— schmoozing to all of the seniors in the Undergraduate Student Council, attending the endless number of tedious mixers to make connections, standing in the rain trying to raise funds for the organization— were going to be worth it, because in the end, you had one goal: to be student body president.

But your dreams were dashed to the ground when he strolled in like a supermodel. While you were toiling since you were a freshman, Chris showed up at the final student council meeting at the end of last year, expressing his intentions to run for president in the following academic semester after the summer. Chris’s charm threw off the projectile of the election, compared to how although you carry yourself very well professionally, you still are very socially uncapable. Making engaging small talk about the weather or joking about frat parties on campus are unthinkable tasks for you, while that kind of conversation is exactly Chris’s forte.

You know that you’re lucky that you at least get part of the title, because while on paper you are more qualified than Chris, the game was never in your favor. And seeing it all happen by the cursed will of the one person you’ve despised more than anyone else, since you were a kid, makes it hurt more than anything.

“Great job, partner.”

You’re snapped out of your disturbed musings by the aforementioned person, who beams and stretches out his hand towards you. You’re wary of the gesture, but accept it anyway, making sure to squeeze his hand extra hard.

“Same to you, Christopher,” you retort, adding an unmistakable bite to your words.

The smile doesn’t fade off of his face as he coolly shakes his aching hand off from your death grip. “I go by Chris, you know that.”

You nearly snort, but refrain from it, because people are watching. You do not need any negative publicity right now, especially next to your co-counsel who seems to do no wrong. But that won’t stop you from being discreetly petty. “Okay, Christopher.”

You hate Chris, and he knows it. But his elated expression doesn’t budge as he merely moves away from you to spark conversation with the announcer, who looks at Chris with literal hearts in her eyes. One more thing you hate: no matter how much you try to rile him up like he does to you, he never gives you a reaction. That satisfaction solely belongs to him.

Rolling your eyes, you shove past him as gracefully as you can, eliciting a surprised grunt out of him. As Chris rubs his side behind you, you turn to the students coming closer to congratulate you, the smile on your face very much genuine now.

“He left me on read! AGAIN. Can you believe the audacity?”

The smoky, herbaceous scent of freshly brewed coffee and sugary fragrance of baking breakfast pastries does nothing to soothe your anger. Your unadulterated complaints ricochet off of the walls of Morningstar Coffee House, your go-to place when you need to feign study in order to hang out with your best friend, a devoted employee-in-training at the place.

Soobin groans, dumping out the latest batch of long macchiato into the sink. “I keep messing it up.”

“Are you even listening, Soobin?” You lean against the counter that he’s behind, wiping up the small drops of milk that escaped the carton in his hasty panic to master the art of being a barista.

“Yes, yes, I am, sorry. Please continue.” Soobin sets aside his blender and folds his hands on the granite, looking at you earnestly.

You pick at the chipped dark purple polish on your nails. “I can work with him. I can. Because I’m a professional. But he makes it so hard when I’m trying to communicate with him.”

Soobin shrugs. “Maybe he’s just not using his phone right now.”

With a frustrated sigh, you shake your head. If only everyone could be as sweet and guileless as Soobin. He always sees the best in people, and while you’re not a pessimist, it’s hard for you to find the good in Chris’s character.

“It’s not just the text thing, even though I really do need him to tell me if he’s finished the nominations for the ethics board. It’s like, he doesn’t give a crap about anything, especially when it comes from me.”

Soobin nods slowly, wrinkling his nose in thought. “I know he’s difficult. But just keep rising above. Getting upset hurts you, not him.”

As always, Soobin remains the voice of reason behind your storms, your eternal complement. When you need to cry your emotions out, he welcomes you with open arms. When he’s too shy to ask for the dessert menu at restaurants, you will signal for the waiter. When you make your displeasure apparent, he induces a degree of rationality into your vexed mind. That said, fundamentally, both of you are introverts. At the end of the day, you love nothing more than to curl up on the couch and watch knitting tutorials on Youtube with Soobin. Opposites or not, you fit each other like a glove.

“I love you, cucumber,” you say, affectionately poking fun at your best friend’s towering height.

Soobin’s cheeks turn light pink, and he swats your hands away. “You’re weird.”

You tip your head back and laugh, while Soobin grins and resumes his duties in trying to figure out how to work the cash register. You can feel the worries already lifting in your chest, because who cares about Chris, anyway? Certainly not you.

But as if you had spoken of the devil, you hear the jingle of the shopkeeper’s doorbell, followed by that familiar boisterous guffaw. The sound makes you whirl around, the tension soaring back into your shoulders. And there he is, sauntering into the café with his trusty entourage trailing.

Your narrowed eyes meet Chris’s, and he pauses in the middle of whatever obnoxious joke he must have been sharing. For a brief moment, a telepathic duel sparks between you both, a challenge to see which one of you will be the first to crack. You win, when he breaks eye contact to go and find a seat with his friends in the lounge area. But once more, it doesn’t feel that way, because while he’s resumed his own activities, you’re still thinking about him. So much for rising above. Damn it.

“Soobin, you need to scan your employee ID first or else sales won’t be attributed to you. We already went over this.”

The voice of Seungmin, the son of Morningstar’s owners and your fellow university student, halts your deliberations and thankfully pulls your thoughts away from Chris. Seungmin is inside from his break and stands there besides Soobin, scolding him for making another mistake in his practice transaction before the evening rush.

“Right! Sorry about that.” Soobin shakes his head and exhales, grabbing a towel to wipe his sweaty hands.

“You’ll be fine. Just keep at it.” Seungmin softens, patting Soobin on the back before making his way over to where Chris is sitting. Because of course, Chris is friends with every single person in existence.

Another person enters the building, prompting the telltale ring to go off. Soobin’s perpetual flush morphs into a crimson, and you immediately turn to see which newcomer has got your best friend so hot and bothered. You’re met by the sight of a very pretty girl who you recognize, but whose name escapes you. However, you know the boy she has walked into the coffee house with— her best friend, Han Jisung, who is unsurprisingly another member of Chris’s glorified posse.

“You have got to be kidding me.” You raise your eyebrow at Soobin, who is still watching the girl with a lovelorn look in his eyes.

“What?”

“You can’t like her. She and Jisung have a thing.”

“They’re just friends,” Soobin says, frowning, but you can see the contradicting doubt written across his face. “Maybe I’ll talk to Seungmin and see what’s up.”

You take his hand and resign, because other times, both of you have to learn your lessons on your own. “You’ll make someone’s heart beat as fast as they do your own. Whether it’s her or not.”

Soobin swallows, fully directing his attention back to you. “The same to you as well. ”

You let out a playful snort, thinking of your one short-lived romance from freshman year. You haven’t dated since, deciding to set relationships aside so you can focus better on your studies. You cannot take the chance of losing precious time, time that can only be allotted to your favorite person, work, and nothing else. Besides, you’ve never been very good at flirting— let alone finding friends— anyway.

“But I think Chris raises your pulse rate enough, so maybe you’ve got your plate full for now.”

“Don’t start,” you warn, the annoyance picking up again. Soobin sends you a cheeky smile, before he attends to his peckish customers.

You take the opportunity to make your way back to your table in the front of the cafe, your favorite little spot that overlooks the lush campus lawn, and then past the historic buildings of your university, the faint city skyline. The trees have begun happily shedding their leaves like multicolored tears that dot the outdoor expanse, embracing Autumn like a long-lost lover. Today is gorgeous, a day that should feel like a blessing, and yet, you feel blue.

The reason for your melancholy approaches your carefully curated bubble and pops it, sitting down at the table, uninvited.

“Hey, I didn’t see you at the election after-party the other day.”

Chris’s voice is calm, so you merely clench your jaw and keep from saying anything too unintelligible. “Hey, you read my text and didn’t reply today.”

He doesn’t let the sheepishness cross his features, but has the decency for it to manifest in a light red at the tips of his ears. “I was going to, sorry. I’ve been busy.”

You just can’t help the venom that laces your next words. “You always are.”

Chris shakes his head, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t get why you always have a problem with me.”

You allow yourself a sharp intake of breath before divulging your current frustrations with him. “I really, really need you to answer me when I ask you something. We represent all of the students in our college. We can’t afford to mess this up.”

Chris rolls his eyes at your words, which makes you even more irritated. “I know.”

“Great. Then we have nothing else to discuss.” You slip your laptop back into your carrier and zip up your backpack, grabbing your phone and pushing your chair in. You don’t spare Chris a glance as you walk towards the door.

“Why can’t we just be friends like before?”

You tense at Chris calling out, but don’t look back to face him. “You should know the answer to that.”

“I really don’t.”

With a scoff, you leave him hanging, pushing open the door and finding somewhere you can actually study without distraction.

It’s only the second day of fourth grade and you already feel so out of place. You moved here over a month and a half ago, in the middle of summer, so you had a lot of time to get used to the town and explore your new home. You enjoyed biking around the neighborhood cul-de-sac all day and discovered a clearing in the woods behind your house, immediately claiming it as your personal hideout. After your parents hosted some of your neighbors’ families for dinner, you even established friendly relations with Soobin, the impossibly shy son of the couple next door.

But your expeditions in school haven’t been as successful. As soon as you stepped into the classroom, it seemed like everyone already had their own friend groups, less than willing to take on a newbie like you. Because all of the seemingly “cool” kids have claimed all of the seats in the back, you sit up front, the desk next to you empty. And although Soobin also attends the same school, he’s in a different homeroom than you, so your in-school interactions are limited to hallway waves and nothing else. To top it all off, your teacher is already talking about long division. What in the world is that?

“Would you like a pudding?”

You turn around to pinpoint the hushed voice that has interrupted the independent classwork time that your teacher allotted. The owner sits right behind you, this kid with dimples and mischievous eyes. You can’t recall his name from when your teacher took attendance in the morning, but you remember him singing a little rhyme to his friends during lunch yesterday. It was cheesy.

The boy holds out a small cup of what looks like Jell-O snack pudding towards you. You accept it, slightly confused at the random gesture. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He folds his hands on his desk, math practice discarded to the side. “You looked hungry.”

He’s watching you intently, waiting for you to eat the pudding. With a sigh, you open and try it, because you are kind of hungry. As soon as your lips gingerly close around the tiny spoon, you grin, because it’s chocolate— your favorite.

“I’m Y/N.”

“Chris,” he replies, obviously delighted by your reaction to the pudding. “Are you new?”

You smile, relieved to finally see a friendly face in your class. “Yeah, I am. Thanks for the pudding.”

“I don’t go anywhere without my trusty pudding cups.”

You don’t say anything, just quietly observing him while savoring the pudding. Chris is a little weird, and maybe too friendly. You're usually careful about this kind of socialization, but he doesn’t seem like a bad person. Chris takes your silence as an opportunity to keep chattering away.

“I notice you sit alone at lunch. You should eat with my friends and me today!” Chris exclaims, earning him a look from your teacher, but he doesn’t notice.

You pretend to contemplate his offer, although you’re secretly elated at the invitation. “Maybe if there’s more pudding.”

“Deal.”

“It looks like the faculty advising problem is sorted. Anything else?”

The Dean of the college closes his laptop and pushes the pair of glasses perched on his nose for the hundredth time in the past hour. The lenses are huge, magnifying his eyes and making them look bugged-out, adding a comical element to his otherwise stony face.

“I was thinking—” You start, taking out your notepad, but the Dean cuts you off, looking at Chris.

“Chris, did you have anything you wanted to say?”

Your cheeks as you avert your gaze shamefully, and all of the other students in the conference room awkwardly stare down at the table. The Dean doesn’t seem to notice your discomfort, however, just intently staring at Chris. For the entire board meeting, you actively participated and made your voice heard, while taking into account others’ concerns and viewpoints.

Meanwhile, Chris had done nothing but squint at the papers in front of him and pretend he knew what was happening. But you’ve always been underestimated just because you’re a woman, and the fact that you’re the only female student body president in the entire history of your university doesn’t help. Of course the Dean would value Chris’s thoughts more. Anyone would.

“Actually, Y/N was saying something. We should let her finish,” Chris replies firmly, shocking you. You thought Chris would just take the opportunity to shine for himself, not hand it to you.

The Dean looks taken aback as well, but he nods slowly. “Very well then.”

Everyone’s attention snaps to you, but you quickly recover and recollect yourself, turning on the professionalism you reserved for moments like this. “Yes. Thank you.”

You open your computer and quickly login, plugging it into the projector so everyone can view your screen. You had already pulled up your presentation and graphics, ready to present your idea.

“What is all of this, Miss Y/L/N?”

You take a deep breath. “A prevailing issue that has come to the board’s attention is the food insecurity on campus. To solve this issue, I propose the University Food Pantry, to relieve hunger through the acquisition and distribution of food to those students who most need it. We need to lead our campus community in the fight against hunger.”

The rest of your audience looks intrigued, but the Dean doesn’t seem convinced. “And how does this concern me? I oversee educational affairs at the college, not what’s cooking for dinner.”

“Our university is, above everything else, a community. The difficulty of higher education is further compounded when hunger is a constant presence.” You try your best to keep your suave composure, ignoring the smug condescension in the Dean’s voice. “As a result, the Food Pantry will envision a campus in which every student, regardless of their socioeconomic status, has sufficient access to nutritious food. No one should have to make financial and dietary decisions in pursuit of a good education.”

“It all sounds expensive. Where would you even get the money from?”

You know that the Dean expects you to be thrown off by his question, but you’re ready. You switch through the slides of your presentation, showcasing the several charts and graphs you stayed up all night drawing. “The Dean’s Assistance Fund, through which the Pantry can provide flex allowances to undergrad recipients of Financial Aid.”

The Dean leans back in his chair, brooding silently while you wait for his answer with bated breath. But Chris speaks up instead.

“This is really good, Y/N,” Chris says, astonishing you even further. “The fund could finance other initiatives in collaboration with the pantry as well, like the university Meal Share app that my friend Jisung coded. He’s in the computer science department.”

“Thanks,” you say warily, still in disbelief that you have both his support and enthusiasm. The other students murmur in agreement, but it doesn’t feel real, getting along with Chris.

Immediately, the Dean sits up, directing his gaze to match Chris’s. “A wonderful idea, Chris. We must talk further about this. Perhaps—”

It’s Chris’s turn to cut the Dean off. “It wasn’t my idea, it was Y/N’s, if you were listening to her at all, sir.”

The Dean looks embarrassed after being put into his place by the very student he was chatting up to, but you don’t give him time to say anything else, taking the chance to continue speaking.

“Of course, we can’t be fully financed by the Dean’s fund, so I think the university board should put forth a collective effort to apply for the Park Grant, an international system that funds programs that address student reform.”

“You’ve put so much thought into this, Y/N,” Mina, one of the board members, says with a smile.

You light up, forgetting the Dean’s less-than-enthused demeanor. “Thank you so much!”

The Dean sighs, staring up at the ceiling, but shrugs, inclining his head in reluctant approval. “The Park Grant deadline is in two days. You’ll have to write up the proposal and present it to the panel.”

You nod vigorously, already mentally adding it to your calendar. “Thank you sir, I know. I won’t disappoint you.”

The Dean points his pretentiously expensive fountain pen at Chris, directing your gaze to his. “But you’ll be presenting with Chris. You’ll oversee this endeavor together.”

Your soaring heart crashes, and you sit up in indignation, because of course there’s a catch. After undermining all of your efforts, the Dean would never trust you to do something like this on your own. And out of everyone, it has to be with Chris.

“Sir, I truly believe I can finish this on my own.” You can barely contain the anger quaking in your throat, but you give it one last attempt.

Chris glances at you and dips his head in accord. “I agree, sir. Y/N is perfectly capable. This is her project, after all.”

“Let’s not go near what our capabilities are. I am very well aware of what your abilities are.” The Dean’s words jab you in the chest one by one, making you wonder if he could go any lower. “You both are co-presidents. Do it together or don’t do it all.”

“Sir—”

“Please give me a chance—”

Both you and Chris are cut off by the Dean’s cold sneer. “That will be all.”

With the wave of his gnarled hands, the meeting is over, and the rest of the students exit as fast as they can to escape the tension, while you just sit there, staring at your black computer screen blankly. A moment later, you collect yourself, grab your belongings, cramming them into your arms, and run out of the room, trying not to cry all of your frustrations out, right then and there.

“Y/N, stop!” Chris calls out from behind you, and you groan inwardly. And of course he has to be there. You can’t even fall apart in peace.

“What do you want, Chris?” You sigh exasperatedly, turning to face him, even though all you really want to do is give him the finger and run back to your room.

The tension is palpable, and you see Chris’s concern. You don’t want it, though. You don’t want his concern, his sympathy, or his friendship. You just want to never see him again, but unfortunately, the universe will not let that happen. You should have accepted that when it put you through elementary, middle, and high school, and even college with him.

“I’m sorry. I- I tried,” he says, running his fingers through his hair, combing through it before the soft, blond locks flop back into place on his forehead. He looks more beautiful than ever, the sorrow in his deep brown eyes and painted into the pout on his perfect lips. But God, you hate him.

You swallow, taking a step forward. Chris’s eyes widen in surprise, but he stays still as you proceed in an eerily calm voice. “Outside of work, don’t talk to me. Don’t look at me. Don’t even think about me. I hate you, Chris, and I wish you never existed.”

For the first time, Chris is speechless, but you walk away, feeling anything but triumphant. You don’t want to see the hurt splayed across his face. And you don’t want Chris to see your own pain, the ugly root that digs deep into your heart and surges through your fingertips, the pain that has been there since the moment he took something from you. You hate Chris, and that will never, ever change.

“Come on, Soobin, tell me,” you whine, lightly kicking your legs at Soobin’s, where they hang over the edge of the treehouse you both built with your dads a few summers ago. The June weather is hot and sticky, and on days like this, you both like to climb up here and try to catch the faintest breeze that may come your way, ice creams in your hands and stories to trade on your lips.

Soobin coughs awkwardly. “Absolutely not, Y/N.”

Tomorrow is the last day of middle school, and you’re determined to guess Soobin’s crush. You smirk at him, elbowing him in the side. Today, you suck on a blueberry popsicle, deliberating while trying not to let the dessert drip down your arms.

“It’s the girl in your history class, isn’t it?”

“Nope.” Soobin side eyes you curiously, biting down on his own fudge ice cream cone. “Well, maybe I’ll tell you if you tell me yours.”

You blush, your mind immediately going to Chris, the boy you’ve liked since forever. Although you’re best friends with Soobin, Chris is also one of your good friends at school. And not to mention, the cutest boy in your entire school.

Besides Soobin, Chris is also the only other person you’ve told about your autism. You were always shy and awkward growing up, and Chris pulled you out of that shell.

It’s also why you get so nervous before tests. Since the time you nearly dropped your computer before a science quiz in fifth grade, Chris always brings you pudding before class assessments. You were scared to tell him at first, because you have been bullied in the past about it, but he had been nothing but kind and understanding. He’s never forgotten to bring you a pudding cup, and he specifically brings chocolate-flavored ones only, because you once told him you liked them.

“You can’t tell anyone,” you swallow the last chunk of your popsicle, crunching down on the sugary ice.

“I promise.” Soobin sits forward eagerly, his melting ice cream cone forgotten.

“It’s Chris,” you say dreamily, a lovesick smile playing upon your lips.

Soobin burst out laughing, elbowing you in the side teasingly. “I knew it!”

You and Soobin start arguing about who was more obvious about their respective crushes, but the thought of Chris stays lingering in your mind and clouding your thoughts. His devilishly handsome looks but angelic personality. The way he brings you those damn chocolate puddings, unaware of how you got sick of the flavor a long time ago but keep eating them anyway, just to see the beaming smile on his face.

“Tomorrow,” you exclaim randomly, right after Soobin finishes telling you about all of the teachers he will miss over the summer, the perfect student he is.

“What’s tomorrow?”

“I’m going to tell Chris that I like him. Tomorrow,” you declare, trying to keep your voice strong and purposeful.

Soobin just stares at you with his jaw hanging open, because while you aren’t as soft-spoken as him, neither of you are particularly forward. Especially not in regard to your romantic lives. You both are the duo that watches your lost loves from afar, not confronting them up close. You’re surprised at your uncharacteristic behavior too, because you pledged to never give a teenage boy the satisfaction of knowing the power they have over you, especially not someone popular like Chris. But then again, Chris is different. You know it.

“Are you actually serious right now?” Soobin asks, still in shock. “Like, are you joking?”

“I’m serious, Soobin. I really like him.” You toy with your stained popsicle stick. “If he doesn’t feel the same, then I can just move on.”

“Wow.”

“I know.”

He reaches over and gently pats you on the back, as if to comfort your nerves. “He’d be really dumb to not like you.”

You groan and flop onto your back, looking up at the dusty ceiling of the treehouse. Both of you just stay quiet for a moment, as you observe the soft cobwebs in the corners and the sunlight pouring through the cracks in the wooden rafters. You’re really going to do this.

“I’m still hungry.”

Soobin holds out his half-finished cone, little droplets of ice cream dripping onto the wood. “You can have the rest of this.”

“Thanks, Soob.” You accept his ice cream and both of you continue to reminisce about the school year and plan out everything you probably will never do during the summer, because both of you are master procrastinators.

But one thing you can’t put off is your revelation to Chris, and it’s going to happen. Which is why you find yourself trying to ignore the impending feeling of dread as you walk through the school hallways. Classes are over for both the day and the entire academic year itself, and there’s no better time to confess to your crush on the last day of school. That way, if something goes wrong, you can take the summer to recuperate and wallow in your humiliation.

You weave through the students excited to trade their homework assignments for sunny days at the beach, with only one thought in your mind. Chris, Chris, Chris. You saw him in math class in the morning, and he looked so cute in his new Hawaiian-print shorts while he signed your yearbook for you. Now, you try to find him in the crowd, before he leaves and you’ll be unable to see him for another three months.

As you search, you’re momentarily snapped out of your Chris-induced daze when you bump into Jessi Ho in the congested hall. Knowing your luck, of course you would crash into the loser who constantly picks on Soobin for being shy.

“Watch it, dumbass.” Jessi crosses her arms and flips her hair over her shoulder. Jay, her wannabe sidekick, gets up in your face, threateningly flashing the tattoos he got without his parents knowing. Although they look like a classic pair of bullies straight out of Mean Girls, you’re more irritated than intimidated right now.

“I don’t have time for this.” You try to move past the terrible twosome, but Jay grasps your forearm roughly and pulls you back. You wrench your arm free and look at him in both disgust and confusion. “What the hell?”

“I’ll get to the point.” Jessi smirks, bringing her finger up to her head and pointing to her temple. “We know you’re impaired. Up here.”

Your blood freezes over like a river of ice, when Jessie emphasizes that specific word. Even though you’re not impaired, because autism isn’t an intellectual disability, you know what she means. She says it like an insult, like you’re the most useless of garbage, not worth a human being’s basic dignity. Jay bursts out laughing when he sees the horror on your face, slapping his distressed denim thigh like it’s the funniest joke he’s heard in the fifteen miserable years of his life. You just stumble back, shock and panic rising like a tidal wave in your chest.

“W-what?”

Jessi cackles, clinging onto Jay like he’s her own walking cane. “How cute. She looks so lost.”

You shake your head, the tears building and your throat seizing in alarm. “How…?”

“A little birdie told me.” Jessi steps closer to you, and while every other time you are able to stand up to her, you can barely look her in the eye right now. “It all makes so much sense. Why do you barely talk to anyone but your pathetic bestie? You’re too scared. Why can you never sit still in class? You're just stupid.”

“That- that’s not how it works.”

You’re grasping at straws, at a loss for words. Any other time, you’d have a snappy comeback ready. You know you struggle with social interactions, but you never thought of yourself as someone disruptive, or weird. You’re one of the highest achievers in your entire school, because sometimes, books make more sense than people. But now? You do feel stupid, exactly like Jessi said. And not because you’re autistic, but because you weren’t careful enough. You’ve been underestimated your entire life because you’re a girl, but now, you know you’ll also be an autistic girl to everyone else. Not who you are. And that’s why you tried your best to keep it on the down low, not because you felt embarrassed, but because this was a part of yourself that was entitled to you. Not anyone else.

“Sure, okay.” Jessi looks bored already, her eyes unfocused roaming the hallway, looking for her next target. “Whatever, stupid.”

Jessi slinks off without a second glance, and Jay follows suit, but not before doing a disgustingly inaccurate impression of autists, speaking gibberish slowly and exaggeratedly. You actually speak faster than other people, because you always say whatever is on your mind. But you don’t give a crap about them right now. Bullies like them will always have the worst to talk about others, and you would rather die than have them be the cause of your tears, ever. What’s really bothering you is who told them about your autism, and how that mystery person found out.

Swallowing roughly, you run over to the bathrooms, forgetting anything else. The only thing on your mind is not losing it in front of everyone. You will not give any of these people the satisfaction. Trying to keep your breathing even, you’re about to enter the bathrooms and relieve your emotions when you hear someone say your name. It doesn’t sound deliberate however, like you weren’t supposed to hear it.

You turn slowly, searching through the swaths of people walking, when your gaze lands on a small group of people gathered at the end of the hallway, a few lockers away from where you’re standing. And his back facing you, but you immediately recognize the person speaking. After the previous year of sitting behind him in Geometry class, you would recognize his curly locks perpetually dyed a soft blond and preppy polo shirt anywhere. Your ears perk up in interest, and while you feel horrible, you know one of Chris’s dimpled smiles would immediately brighten your stormy day, as they always did.

“Tell us the truth Chris!” You hear someone screech like an eager toddler, and you stop in your tracks like a deer in a traffic jam. It can’t be.

“Fine, Y/N is autistic...”

Everyone around Chris bursts into uproarious laughter, and while you can’t see his expression, Chris begins saying something else that’s drowned out by all of the noise. It was Chris. He told everyone about your autism. Chris, the sweetheart who brings you pudding. Chris, the pretty boy who you have a hopeless crush on. Chris, your friend.

You stumble back and are pushed back into the after-school hallway rush, losing sight of Chris. But you already saw everything you needed to. It would have hurt less if it was anyone but Chris. But it wasn’t. You liked him. You trusted him. And he took that trust and stomped on it, shattering it forever. He took something from you.

Your heart hardens as you blink away your tears. You mindlessly make your way outside, just in time to catch your bus home. Looking out of the window, with your time and your spirit petrified, you resolve to never, ever make the same mistake again. You will never again put your faith in someone who does not deserve it.

“You look hungry.”

You momentarily glance away from your laptop screen to shoot Chris a withering look that could scare a bear. Things are back to normal since your emotional confrontation after the Dean’s meeting. Your rude remarks and his annoyingly cooperative advances are both back for good.

“Shut the fuck up.”

The blistering ice in your voice doesn’t stop Chris from unzipping his backpack and pulling out one of his damn puddings. With a scoff, you turn back to your spreadsheet, taking care to shoot disgusting looks at Chris periodically. Chris just takes his time savoring his pudding, innocently watching your reactions like you’re a goddamn television set.

The hours pass by quickly; you get a good amount of work done, while Chris tries to be helpful by asking useless questions and doing nothing else. Typical. After finishing up a final follow-up email to the Dean’s much more tolerable secretary, you stretch out your arms with a yawn. The library will be closing in a few minutes.

“Where are you going?” Chris’s voice is interrogative as you stand up, like you owe him an answer, which makes you see red. If anything, he is the one who should be giving you an explanation, perhaps why he has to be such a two-faced monstrosity who wants to pretend everything is fine and in the past.

Screw civility.

“Oh, I’m sorry, your royal dopiness. I didn’t know I needed your permission to go home.” Your words are filled with a sickening sarcasm, and fortunately, it’s enough to shut Chris up.

You grab your belongings and stalk out of the personal meeting room that you reserved, barely noticing that everyone else sitting at the previously crowded study spaces has already left. Once in the security of the library bathrooms, you exhale all of the tension you’ve held inside of you and splash cool water onto your heated face.

You stare into the mirror, seeing the same girl you’ve been trying to leave behind all of this time. You feel like that lost little girl trying to clutch the thought of someone who should be forgotten. You hate that you still have hope in you, that you’ve had it all of these years, that things can be fixed. You’ve tried, you really have. You’ve tried to leave the past behind you, to look forward and do exactly what needs to be done for your success. Here’s the truth: you act like a bitch towards Chris because he sucks and you hate him. Here’s another truth: you act like a bitch towards Chris because… you’re hurt.

Especially because of your autism, you’ve had a more difficult run at making meaningful relationships. Your friendship with Chris meant that there was hope for you, and you truly believed that. But then he betrayed you, making you doubt yourself and your abilities. And following the incident, it felt like the world was working against you, and it still does. Maybe you could have healed with time, but the universe had other plans, taking care to put you through high school and college with Chris. And with your rotten luck, he’ll probably end up going to the same law school as you.

But you don’t have the time to worry about that right now. Your future depends on the present, and you’ll do your best to remember that. Your productivity mantra will keep you going, and nothing can stop you, from Christopher Bang to misogynistic old deans to… a locked bathroom door?

“What the hell?” You tug on the handle, but the door won’t budge.

Fuck.

You were so occupied with Chris that you forgot that after hours, all of the doors automatically lock to preserve campus security. Screw modern technology. You’re about to pull out your phone to try and call someone, but when your fingers meet an empty pocket, you realize you left it in your apartment. With an exasperated groan, you bang against the door as hard as you can and shout for help, even though you know it’s impossible for anyone to hear you and open the door from outside, the only way to free you. After a few minutes, you give up and slide down onto the floor, knowing you’ll have to spend the rest of this godforsaken night in this stuffy bathroom. Even if you somehow eventually gain the strength to bust this stupid door down, there was no getting past the padlocked main library doors. But seriously, which genius had the idea to lock the freaking bathroom doors?

You close your eyes and place your hand over your heart, trying to calm yourself down. You’re perfectly safe. Alone in a big, empty library. Soon, the bathroom lights will shut down, probably. You wouldn’t know for sure, though. You’ve never been locked in the damn library bathroom before. Perhaps you’ll make friends with the old campus ghosts rumored to haunt this building. And maybe—

The click and turn of the door handle startles you, and you immediately jump out of the way, so your designated savior can let you out. And you’re not even surprised when your eyes meet Chris’s own confused ones. Because of course it’s Chris.

“Why are you still here?” You ask him in a slightly accusing tone, even though he literally has just helped you. You don’t even know why you feel the need to be so pointed, but you are nevertheless.

“I was waiting for you to come back and didn’t realize the library was closed.” Chris lets out a sigh, rubbing his forehead as if it aches. You hope it does. “I have a question about the proposal.”

“Did you try calling someone? I forgot my phone.”

“Well, my phone doesn’t have any service.”

“Awesome.”

You don’t say anything further as you both exit the cramped corridor outside of the bathroom. In your hurry, you hadn’t even noticed how the librarians had turned off the lights, shrouding the building in darkness. Shivering, you subconsciously move closer to Chris, before you realize yourself and make sure to maintain a six-feet distance between your body and his.

“You can come closer if you’re scared,” Chris teases, noticing your discomfort. “We’re both stuck in this library together.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, please. You’re the one who’s scared of the dark.”

Both of you fall silent as the remembrance sinks in. The day you confided in Chris about your autism, he had shared a secret about himself in return, albeit a less serious one. He had an irrational fear of the dark since he was a small child, and you knew any other fourth grader would have made fun of him for it. You had felt happy, then, that he could confide in you.

The inadvertent memory feels unwelcome, uncomfortable. Chris clears his throat and looks away. “Not anymore.”

You and Chris decide to make camp in the library common room, since although the main building lights wouldn’t work, there were a few soft table lamps you could turn on for some clarity. You set your backpack down on the carpeted ground and snuggle into the large armchair by one of the bigger lamps. You glance at the decorative grandfather clock in the corner of the room, and it’s just past midnight. At that moment, you really just want to go home, put on your favorite pajamas, and fall asleep while watching your list of comfort anime films. Definitely not being locked in the damn library with Chris Bang, of all people. Since when was your life an episode of Arthur?

“So, you wanted to ask me something?”

Chris fiddles with his hands for a minute, before looking away. “Never mind.”

You don’t even have it in you to be annoyed at this point. You’re just exhausted. You fall back against the tough cushion of the chair. It feels like you’re sitting on a clothed bag of sawdust. But it’s better than being out there, in the dark. And you hate to admit it, but you’re glad that you have someone to share the company of an empty library with, even if it’s Chris.

“God, I’m hungry.” You touch your stomach, feeling the gnawing emptiness there.

“Would you like a—”

“No, I would not like a pudding, Chris.”

The minutes eventually tick by, and you feel yourself nodding off. You had told yourself earlier that you would stay alert, but the drowsiness drapes over you like a blanket, lulling you into reluctant sleep.

The menacing roll of thunder snaps you out of your uneasy slumber like the sound of a car crash. Immediately, you double over and tuck your head into your arms, trying to breathe. Your hands, warmed from being pressed under your thighs, go clammy with a cold sweat, and you can feel the tears well, barely keeping them at bay. When your go-to breathing technique doesn’t work, you gasp for air, jerking in your seat at every new crack of thunder invading your perception.

Immediately, Chris crosses the space between your chairs and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hold. Sometimes, thunderstorms cause you to have a sensory overload, and you can’t cope. Chris knows this about you, after you got severely spooked after one particularly bad storm in the middle of class in sixth grade. Chris continues to rock your body slowly with his, whispering calming nothings into your ear. Your breathing slows and returns to a normal pace, but Chris just keeps rubbing slow, comforting circles on your back.

Soon, the sound of the thunder dissipates, but you’re not entirely sure if it’s actually because the storm ended or if it’s because the overwhelming scent of Chris’s fresh, minty cologne has taken over your senses.

You look up at Chris, the boy you hate more than anything, and whisper the very last thing that you ever thought you would say to him. “Thank you.”

Chris just nods his head slowly while you untangle yourself from his hold. He gets the hint and lets you scoot away from him, but it’s not far enough. Mere inches separate you from Chris, Chris who helped you without second thought because you were having a panic attack. Forget every ounce of hostility you have shown him, he hugged you like he was your lifeline, which he nearly could have been.

He looks at you intently, his eyes glistening with emotion. “Why do you hate me so much?”

He’s asked this question multiple times before. The first time was back on the very first day of high school, when you both had English class together, and you staunchly ignored him. He continued to ask you the same thing over and over again, until your lack of acknowledgement made him finally stop and accept your new attitude towards him. But even though you’ve heard this question before, this time feels different. There is a certain vulnerability to his words, like he’s given up and is pleading for one last chance.

A part of you still wants to try and maintain the animosity you use as a protective barrier, so people can’t tell what you’re really feeling. But you’re just tired of it all, and the question tugs at you too. Maybe you need to reply out loud for both of you to hear, not just him. Maybe you need to affirm your hatred for the dumb boy who waited for you to come back from the bathroom and then held you during a thunderstorm. Or maybe you need to affirm the fact that you may not hate him as much as you think, but you still do. You don’t know. You hate him the most because you don’t know. So, for the first time, you answer him.

“You broke my trust, Chris.”

“When?” Chris looks genuinely perplexed, like he has no idea what you’re talking about.

With a scoff, you glare up at the ceiling, unable to look him in the eye. “You told everyone about my autism. When I specifically said that I wanted to keep it a secret.”

He shakes his head in a vigorous panic. “I didn’t tell anyone. I promise I didn’t. I promise it wasn’t me.”

Then who was it?

As if he hears your thoughts, Chris sighs and indulges them. “Jessi. She saw your aide and followed him to his office. She was telling everyone about it, I swear.”

And it makes sense. His explanation checks out, and this all could have been a grand misunderstanding on your part, because of course Jessi would have snooped into your business. You couldn’t save your privacy for long with someone like Jessi hovering. And the thing is, you’re not even surprised. You knew in your heart the entire time that you could have been mistaken, that it was strange that Chris would have violated you like that, but it was just easier to blame him for your pain instead of confronting it. Or so you thought.

“And when everyone found out, I tried defending you. I never, ever would want to hurt you. Please believe me.”

Chris’s eyes are shining with earnesty, and you know he’s telling the truth. But that doesn’t erase all of the years you were hurting. “Why didn’t you just tell me that?”

“It didn’t even occur to me that it was the reason you stopped talking to me. I’m sorry I didn’t try harder.”

You close your eyes and lean back. “Chris, you don’t have anything to be sorry about. This is on me.”

You feel your hatred towards Chris fade, and all there is left in you is a deflated pocket of sorrow. Your whole goal was to stay focused, but in reality, you’ve put so much time and energy into despising Chris. And that wasn’t the only way you hurt yourself. You also deprived yourself of what could have been a wonderful friendship.

“I do,” Chris insists, interrupting your thoughts. “I was stupid. I gave up so quickly. It hurt me too, not just you.”

You raise your head and tiredly gaze at him. Even in the dark, he looks beautiful. And it’s not merely his looks, but truly his character that shines through. You spent hours picking apart his personality, trying to find flaws and reasons to demonize him, not knowing that in the process, you were the monster yourself. You constantly complained about his lack of initiative and response, when in reality, you never let him actually do anything. You can’t even fathom why he’s being so understanding, or all of his attempts to work with you, even after your cold treatment of him.

“What do you mean, Chris?”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this.” Chris groans. “I used to like you. There.”

You perk up. Well, now you’re shocked. “Wait, really? I used to like you, too!”

There’s disbelief written all over Chris’s face. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

Both of you burst into laughter, like you weren’t having a heart-to-heart five minutes ago about hating the other. It feels good to laugh, and for a second, you’re transported back into fourth grade, when you first met Chris.

When you were a kid, you barely laughed, which worried the crap out of your parents. The doctors said it was common among individuals with autism, but it didn’t seem that way when you walked around, unsmiling and unfeeling. You weren’t completely socially inept, or exactly shy, but you preferred to keep to yourself. And then Chris had offered you a pudding. You felt like friendship was worth something, then. You felt seen. And maybe that scared you a little bit, being on the edge with someone who made you feel so deliciously raw. Maybe that’s why you didn’t fight back for Chris, because you would rather leave than be left.

Chris rakes his fingers through his hair, the ghost of a smile playing upon his lips. “You know, I still like you.”

“Very funny.”

“I do.”

“You’re crazy. Stop that.”

“Maybe.” Chris throws his hands up and then lets them fall back down. “I like you and don’t want to stop.”

“After how I treated you for the past eight years?” You nearly laugh with how ridiculous he’s being. Hell, if you were in his place, you’d hate yourself.

“But you were hurt. A lot.” Chris shrugs. “You’ve become this amazing woman. You’re… incredible. Hardworking, talented, smart. Keeping in mind how you truly believed I was the cause for your pain, you excelled in spite of the fact that the universe kept pulling us together.”

You shake your head. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s okay. I’ll say it for you.” Chris looks down at his palms. “I like you, and that’s why I became co-president and faked having no service on my phone so we would be stuck in a library together.”

“Chris—”

“Please. Don’t say no. Not after eight years of me pining for you, knowing you’d never look at me again. Knowing I was falling deeper every time you cursed at me. Please, Y/N. I want to know you again, and you to know me. Please.” Chris’s expression is begging, and it pains you even more.

You still hurt, but it’s a different kind of torture. It’s the kind of hurt that’s the result of yearning, the kind of yearning that stems from hatred, subjugated love, and uncertain acceptance. It’s the kind of hurt that tells you that you don’t deserve him. He deserves someone who isn’t a complete and utter coward. Someone who hasn’t been completely and utterly in love with him all this time, but too stubborn and too pained to admit it. Someone who isn’t completely and utterly awed by the magnificent man he is, but too bitter to say it.

Chris reaches out his hand and places it on the side of your face, imploring you with his hesitant palm. You melt into his touch, when a mere few hours ago, you would have slapped it off of you. His skin is warm against yours, and the softness radiating from him pulls at you. You want to say yes. You want to open a blank page in the book. You want to start fresh with this beautiful boy in front of you.

“I’m sorry.” And you’re not just apologizing for pushing him away before, but now too. You don’t get to have him.

“Just… why?”

“I can’t. I’m so sorry.” The repeated dialogue from you has a note of finality that even Chris’s insolence can’t break through.

And just like that, all of the bridges you both repaired come crumbling down, but this time, it’s on purpose. You’ve always been quick to make decisions, never mulling over a choice for too long. You loved Chris. You hated Chris. You still love Chris. But you reject Chris. It’s easy to do, like one computer command after the other. But then Chris retracts his touch and wordlessly gets up from the armchair, curling up into his original position in the other chair. He’s facing away from you, you feel like you’ve struck an error message. The hours pass, and the softly snoring form of Chris reminds you of a blaring bad request, a pile of code that just won’t compile. Eventually, your computer shuts down too, and you share a temporary commonality with Chris when you fall asleep.

“Wake up dear.”

Your eyes fly open, and you sit up. Natural light pours in through the big windows, and you can feel your skin drinking in the sunshine. The librarian’s kind eyes are watching you with worry, but all you can think of is the night before. Perhaps it was all a dream. You were angry at Chris and then fell asleep after coming back from the bathroom. End of story. But then you feel that familiar ache in your heart, and you know you weren’t hallucinating everything that transpired between you both.

You turn to look at the librarian, who still seems immensely concerned, especially with your disoriented morning look. “I’m sorry, where is Chris?”

“He just left a few minutes ago, sweetheart. I was opening up for the day, when I saw him waiting to be let out at the front entrance. Nearly scared the life out of me.” The librarian places her hand on your shoulder. “He told me you were here.”

The librarian rushes off to her personal office to make you some tea, and you’re left alone in the common room. And no one else is here either, because today is Saturday and your university is supposed to be hosting a football game against a rival school. You look down at your body and notice a jacket wrapped around your body, one that definitely isn’t yours. You don’t have an expensive leather jacket that smells like Tom Ford cologne. It was freezing last night because the library doesn’t have heating, and Chris must have woken up in the middle of the night and draped it on you. You feel another pang in your heart as you think of Chris leaving without speaking to you. You deserve it, though.

As you sadly walk out of the library, you decide to skip the game even though as student body president, you should be there, representing the school. You reach your off-campus apartment, the one that you were so excited to finally lease a few months ago, and sprawl onto your couch, already feeling weary of the day. Nevertheless, you fish your phone out of the jumble of couch pillows and call Soobin, because he must be worried sick. You always text him goodnight before you sleep, and yesterday must have been the first time you didn’t.

“How could you?” He’s angry, a new color on him.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. The library—” You start, but Soobin doesn’t let you finish.

“Forget the library! I’m talking about Chris. He’s stepping down from the president role because of you, Y/N!” Soobin screeches into the phone, making you shoot up in alarm.

“What?!”

“I overheard him tell everything to Jisung. Y/N, this is wrong.” Soobin sounds calmer, but nonetheless distressed. “I know you love him. You shouldn’t let this happen.”

Your face heats up in surprise. “How—”

You hear Soobin tsk, and you just know he’s shaking his head, disappointed. “I didn’t even have to hear him talk to know that. There’s a fine line between love and hate. You can never stop talking about him!”

There’s no denying it now. You shouldn’t have underestimated Soobin; no matter how silly he can be, he is your best friend in the whole world after all. And maybe all the time, the only one you were lying to was yourself.

You grab a pillow and cradle it, just wanting to cry it all out. You always have more intense feelings than others, but right now, your heart hurts so much that you doubt you can blame being emotional on your autism.

“Soobin, what do I do? I don’t want to hurt him, but…” You sniffle. “I didn’t even give him a chance to explain himself. For eight years, I made my whole personality hate Chris. And now, he forgives me and I accept it? I’m so stupid, God.”

“I agree you’re stupid.”

“You’re not making me feel better!”

“Sorry.” Soobin sighs. “But you need to get over yourself and your drama. Stop making this harder for both of you, and just be grateful that you haven’t lost him. Yet.”

And with that, he cuts the call in a way very unlike Soobin, making you groan out loud in frustration. Now you want to punch your pillow, because your best friend is absolutely right.

It doesn’t take long for you to find Chris in the packed stadium. Through the throngs of students eager to trade their homework for a good home game, you see him standing with one of his friends in an upper corner of the stands. When you were younger, you were obsessed with Greek mythology and thought that Chris looked like Apollo, the god of the sun, with his golden curls and sunny disposition. Today, his light seems to have dimmed, as he watches the ongoing game with his hands shoved into his pockets and a forlorn look marking his gaze.

“Chris!” You shout to try and get his attention, but it’s to no avail. The cheering crowd is ear-splitting, and you have no other choice but to climb up to the top.

Grunting, you hoist yourself up the steep stairs and try not to look behind you. If you do, you’ll fall off the stands with dizziness, which would be slightly undesirable compared to what you have to do next. Slightly. With the final step, you haul into Chris’s row, catching your breath and a first glimpse at how high up you really are. The players on the field look like tiny ants, and you feel your stomach drop. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.

But it’s too late to turn back now, because Chris has already spotted you and hurries over. You tense and lose your footing, stumbling over someone as they kick their legs in anticipation. Great.

“What are you doing here?” Chan places a toned arm around your shoulders and pulls you up, leading you to his seat. You clumsily collapse into the solid, curved plastic of the chair, and Chris follows next to you.

You then notice Chris’s friend, a heartbreakingly handsome man who you vaguely remember as Minho from your sophomore year literature class. He’s wistfully gazing at a very pretty girl who is chatting with Terry, Soobin’s old roommate, a few rows down. Minho then becomes aware of your presence and hurriedly excuses himself, rushing out of the aisle and disappearing into the crowd. You turn to Chris.

“Is he okay?”

Chris exhales, running his fingers through his hair, combing through it before the soft locks flop back into place on his forehead. “I… Minho’s just going through some stuff right now.”

“Seems like he’s not the only one.” You toy with your ring, twisting it around your finger. “I heard you’re resigning.”

“Who told you that?”

“Soobin. He was eavesdropping on you and Jisung today in Morningstar,” you respond. “Why are you leaving the role?”

Chris looks away from you and out at the field. Your university’s football team still hasn’t scored. “I’d just be in your way. This is for the best, Y/N.”

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way. Please don’t. I need you.”

“You’ll be fine.”

This is what you thought you wanted all along, a world without Chris in it. Besides Student Council, neither of you share any classes or activities this year. If he left, you wouldn’t have to cross paths with him again. You could run the council well on your own, you know that. But you don't want to. You don’t ever want to imagine a world without Chris. He’s been by your side for so long now, and now when he’s about to step away do you truly realize how much you need him.

“Maybe. But I won’t be happy.” Against your better judgment, you reach over and grasp his hand, making Chris start in surprise.

Chris shakes his head, still skeptical. “All I’ve ever done is make you unhappy, Y/N. You don’t want me to be around.”

You sigh, knowing he’s not going to come around, not without the right kind of persuasion. “I was dreading having to do this.”

“Do what?”

You reach into the small purse hanging off of your shoulder and pull what you had scoured the entire city for in the past few hours. “Would you like a pudding?”

Chris looks bemused, staring down at the small cup of chocolatey goodness in the delicate palm of your hand.

“Or do you want a kiss?” You stare at Chris intently, trying to ignore the whammering beat of your heart. “What will it take for you to stay in your position?”

“W-what?”

“Or I could be your girlfriend. Because I really want to see where this goes.” You take a deep breath. “A bunny once told me that I just need to get out of the past. I’ve left it behind, and I’m looking forward, Chris.”

“Fine.” Chris swallows roughly and bites back the slow smile spreading on his features. “Can I have all three?”

“You never make it easy, do you, Chris?”

Before he can quip back at you, you grasp the collar of his t-shirt and tug him to you, your lips meeting just as the home team finally scores a touchdown and the crowd erupts in applause. You couldn’t care less though, because although the preteen you is jumping up and down like the rest of the cheering fans, the adult you is smiling into the lips of the man you definitely do not hate. Actually, you love him.

Chris slings his arms around your waist and pulls your body closer to his, sweetly laughing into your ear when you both come up for air. “Am I a good kisser, or what?”

“Shut up.”

And you’re kissing him again. Warmth blossoms in your chest, sparks igniting as you lean into each other after years of loving, hating, and longing. Your arms roving over each other coax all and any remaining hesitation left in you both, and it feels so right. You treasure the soft sighs of pleasure and elation spilling from Chris’s lips, his sounds more deafening than any overzealous football fan’s rally cry.

“So, do I not get the pudding, or…?” Dimples cut across Chris’s cheeks as he pulls away from your lips once more just to shoot you a cheeky grin.

You roll your eyes playfully and reach into your lap, tearing open the foil wrapper on top of the pudding cup before handing it to him. “You and your pudding.”

“You know you love it.”

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tezuze · 9 months ago

Text

Hi I’m gonna rant about Ghost Game for a second

Not to meaning to add to the endless “What the hell happened to Ghost Game????” discourse but uh, yeah I guess I am contributing to that

I have quite a bit to say about my theories on what I think went wrong and what they could’ve done better and why I desperately do not want a season 2 (I know the irony of how that looks on me) but if I wrote all that in one space I think it would be so long that even I would start begging for me to shut up

So, I’m going to split these up into more digestible categories that I’ll write whenever I’m procrastinating

In case I never get around to anything else, I’m going to start with the biggest loss to me, how I think the Digimon were supposed to influence their tamer’s personal growth and visa-versa

I’ll put the rest below the cut before I get outta hand

Hiro and Gammamon: Augh. These two frustrate me the most. So much lost potential in my book, but I would feel weird putting the mc anywhere but the top of the list, so I decided to put them in the order they join the cast and therefore you get my most passionate feelings first.

Almost one of the first things we learn about Hiro as a character is how self-sacrificing he is. He’s your stereotypical mc who wants to help everyone, but the narrative points out that he’s willing to be helpful at the expense of his own wellbeing, which paints his conventionally good trait as a flaw. And that’s about all they touch on in the base show, with a lot of reading between the lines. I would’ve loved to see the ramifications of his self-sacrificing nature and have the cast point out how he’s really harming himself and stretching himself thin just to appease others. I don’t think the “being helpful is good, but not at the expense of your health” moral is touched on enough so I always get excited when stories have that as one of their themes.

And then there’s his partner, Gammamon, the exact opposite of Hiro. He’s needy, dependent, wild, and selfish at the start. He doesn’t care about others (or their belongings). He’s demanding. He’s destructive. He proves to be a handful for our polite little Hiro, especially with his dad missing and this responsibility suddenly thrusted upon him.

I would’ve loved to see Gammamon teach Hiro to be a little more selfish (or at least, more self-preserving), while Hiro teaches Gammamon to be more considerate and tame. Of course, we see Gammamon grow in this way but the story doesn’t really make it clear that it was necessarily Hiro’s doing or give much of a catalyst at all for why Gammamon has personal growth other than it would be troublesome to have such a brat as the main creature. Now, I know that Guilmon’s arc was kinda similar in that they didn’t have direct events or anything that would make him mature, but it still felt more… realistic? Tended to? Idk I’m going to force myself to move on.

Ruli and Angoramon: Honestly just kinda disappointed with the lack of attention these two got in general in comparison to the other pairs, but I digress.

We meet Ruli with the impression that she’s brash, headstrong, and charismatic. She does things her way on a whim. Especially in the first few and select episodes, but in my opinion, it seemed like they kinda pushed her to the background and her personality was very passive and mild at times (and I don’t think that was on purpose).

Similarly to Hiro and Gammamon, Angoramon has quite a few contrasting personality traits. He’s softspoken, knowledgeable, and introspective. When Hiro first meets Angoramon, he doesn’t want to reveal himself because he’s nervous and doesn’t want to be a bother.

I think these two were supposed to balance each other out. Ruli would learn to think about things more and not run in half-cocked, maybe start to appreciate the more slow and peaceful things in life like nature and reading (Yeah Ruli, don’t think I forgot about that scene where Angoramon wanted you to read one of his favorite books and you DIDN’T and never DID). Meanwhile, Angoramon would come out of his shell more from sticking around Ruli. Possibly learn not to be so overbearing? Idk, honestly I don’t think Angoramon has as much room for growth because he seems the most level-headed character in the cast.

Lastly,

Kiyoshiro and Jellymon: Now, I know I have some bias toward these two so it might seem I’m giving them the benefit of the doubt but I’m going to try to come at them as objectively as I can.

They kinda half-executed what I think they were going for with these two, so they don’t offend me as much (which I think is part of the reason why I like them so much), but a full written out arc between them would’ve been a dream.

Kiyoshiro at the beginning of the series is, well, a sniveling inconsolable scaredy cat. On top of that, he’s kind of cocky and stuck up, obsessed with order and somewhat an introvert (to a lesser extent and differently than angoramon, in the “can’t relate to other humans” kinda way). Outside of his flaws, he is at least kind and pure of heart (I mean his name more or less means “pure white”) with a strong sense of justice and morals.

Jellymon, the devil creature, is so chaotic her intro episode goes right for the “everyone is going to die and it’s all Jellymon’s fault” thing. She has her moments of scheming and kinda like Gammamon, is pretty selfish and demanding with hints of Ruli’s recklessness as well.

As far as their canonic growth goes, Jellymon’s the only one that sees the bravery in her darling, which helps him nurture that courage and cast aside some of his fears (which, yay they actually kinda do in the series albeit pretty indirectly and kinda inconsistently). Also, the narrative never outright says Kiyo is lonely but he surely doesn’t have any companions, but we can see him grow on his partner and admit that it’s nice to have such a close friendship (pretty sure the whole “I like humans” thing was directed at Jellymon, even though she’s not human shhhhh it makes sense I promise)

Now for what they didn’t really touch on, I think these two were supposed to break each other’s stubbornness. I think Jellymon was supposed to show Kiyo how to relax more and not become so absorbed in studies/research and such. We meet him already knowing he has a love for anime, idols and the like so I’m not sure if he could really learn the lesson to appreciate more of the little things, but maybe she’d show him to love some more like, people-centered type things? (I mean she does love festivals). On the flip side, I think Kiyo was supposed to use not his classroom knowledge, but his personal knowledge to show Jellymon all there is to love about humanity outside of their monetary worth and give her a genuine love for the human world. Oh yeah, and teach her to stop scamming people.

“”””I’m gOinG tO tRy To LiMiT mY BiAs oN KiYoSHiRo aNd jElLyMoN”””””””” *Proceeds to spend half my rant talking about Kiyoshiro and Jellymon even though I think they did them pretty well*

Anyway, would love to hear other’s opinions on this as well as if it seems like I’m reaching and there weren’t supposed to be arcs like this. I just feel like the characters are too inherently flawed and contrast too perfectly with their Digimon for them not to have intended some more character-centered personal growth arcs.

I’m sorry and thank you for reading my dumb thoughts.

#digimon #digimon ghost game #ghost game #hiro amanokawa #ruli tsukiyono #kiyoshiro higashimitarai #gammamon #angoramon #jellymon #text post #wall of text #fandom analysis

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theendwrites · 2 years ago

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I don't really know how to start this, but heya! I'm an artist that is currently obsessed with HL, and has WAY TOO MANY characters in it! I'm mostly on twitter, but I had a tumblr some years ago and decided it was time to come back... especially if I could get to see more content on this game especially Garreth because I have a need and there is so little in comparison to other characters! Character info below!!

I guess I should start by presenting my characters, so here they are:

(MC) Selene Nichols: Ravenclaw. Introverted, Curious, Adventurous and Caring. Loves puzzles and exploring. They teached her how to be a "proper lady" and sometimes has a hard time breaking out of that. (Estella's sister, I pair her with Ominis)

Estella Nichols: Slytherin. Extroverted, Charismatic and Bold. Beater on the Slytherin quiddich team. She has a bit lost for most of her time in hogwarts (not literally) but she little by little finds her voice. (Selene's sister, I pair her with Sebastian or Imelda)

Sofia Krowe: Ravenclaw. Introverted, Protective, Stern and Warm. She is the ravenclaw Prefect/head Girl of her year. She is a seer and uses her visions to catch troublemakers when they are in danger or putting others in danger. You'll find her mostly on the library. She seems cold and misterious, but once you get to know her she is more like a mom friend that you can count on. (I pair her with Garreth)

Silas Lacklan: Hufflepuff. Amvivert, Kind, Loyal and Calm. He loves rescuing and taking care of beasts especially dragons. He considers both his beast and human friends important and takes really good care of them. He will always bring extra snacks to give. He plays as a Chaser.

Sun Owens: Ravenclaw. Extrovert. Logical, Organized, Trustworthy, Optimistic and Honest. He is the other prefect/Head Boy from their year in Ravenclaw. He is less forgiving than Sofia when it comes to that, even if he doesn't look like that, but does not go overboard. Has a fascination for troublemakers. He lives alone with his father, and they are poor, his goal is to have the best grades so he can have a cushy job and just relax without having to worry.

(MC) Caden Sawyer: Gryffindor. Extroverted, Kind, Confident, Sensitive and Charming. He loves exploring and the outdoors. He always ends up helping people. He is very aware of people being afraid of him, so he tries his best to make people comfortable around him, even if that means to leave. Comes from a family of witchunters, but escaped and was adopted by the Hills. (Cyrus and Killa's adoptive brother)

Cyrus Hill: (+2 years than MCs) Hufflepuff. Nervous, Timid and mature. He is the Hufflepuff HeadBoy, but doesn't believe he deserves it. He is self-concious (appearance), mainly because of his scars. Has flashbacks and axiety problems from being kidnapped and tortured, so his personality has taken a bit of a toll, but he always tries his best to make the rest feel better, especially his family (Caden & Killa)

Killa Hill: (-4 years than MCs) Slytherin. Extrovert, Energetic, Loud, Friendly and Ceerfull. She admires his brothers very much, and wants to become strong to protect them. She is a bit of an airhead, and her determination has no bounds. She will get what she wants. She is adorable.

Passer Lestrange: Slytherin. Introvert, Obnoxious, Pridefull, Spoiled, Clever. He is from the Lestrange family, and has been taught that he is better than others (blood purity shennaningans) but then Caden arrives and kind of, withough knowing breaks all of that down slowly. But untill the end of his 6th or during his 7th year... yeah no, he is insufferable. He likes Cheese.

Relationships between them!! I have two parallel worlds with a different story and characters each. They do not cross over (except AUs and interacting with other MCs... you know.) So many of my characters do not exist in the same place! I made a badly written infographic to provide help😊 If you read all of that, wow, thank you! I really appreciate it!! If you have any question do not hesitate to ask! See ya next time!!

#hogwarts legacy #Hogwarts legacy Mcs #Selene Nichols #Estella Nichols #Sofia Krowe #Silas Lacklan #Sun Owens #Caden Sawyer #Cyrus Hill #Killa Hill #Passer Lestrange

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imjustabeanie01 · 1 year ago

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Matchup to @averagetoyakinnie !

Hope you enjoy reading lmao...please ignore the obvious 4AM toll

SOLOMON

The sly and funny sorcerer. This man is charismatic and flirty, he generally gets along with everyone (and more if affinity ahem-). I choose him because he’s versatile and caring if it makes sense.

How you met: Let’s follow the plot shall we? (date. Okay sorry I’ll stop). Solomon always has a comeback when you’re being sassy with him and just seems to know what people are thinking. He’d be the one to show you around and would encourage you to break the rules if it’s not too dangerous. Seems casual right? Yeah and it would’ve stayed that way if it wasn’t for…asmodeus! Come on, in the house of lamentation both of you would easily get along. He’d be the type to drag his two favorite humans along to his shenaningans (idk how it’s pronounced). The trouble trio lol. It would prompt you and Solomon to spend more time together and get to know each other. He is into anime/manga and gaming as we saw with Levi. The fact that you’re also dad friend but also fun and entertaining would put him more at ease with you because he doesn’t have to pick up slacks or worry about you getting in serious trouble lol. I think you’d be the one to fall first. Or that asmodeus would notice the tension between both of you and will try to pair both of you together until he succeeds. Now I also thought that it could start as a FWB type of thing if you feel up to it. Because Solomon has these kind of friendships and it’s highly possible that Asmodeus would propose it

In a relationship: Something nice with you and Solomon is that you have a lot in common and he’s also a very curious individual in general so this definitely won’t be a problem as I can see you two enjoying the same hobbies and having fun. He’s a tease so when you give him words of affirmation you can expect him to act all flirty as a thank you, or very soft in rare moments lol. He’s an intellectual and can definitely keep up with all your conversations. He’s also the type who knows when in a bad mood and somehow manage to lift if up. You act feminine? So what? He’s gonna enjoy it with you he doesn’t care. I mean….he is good friend with asmodeus. He likes it. He’s also gossipy lol (you see these videos with a partner coming home and saying I got the tea? Yeah it’s the two of you). You two acted like an old married couple rather quickly lol. Solomon love language seems to be more in acts of service to be honest. But if he notices that you prefer words of affirmation he will switch to it. I can also see him bringing you a small gift each time he goes out. The biggest problems in the relationship is, as you guessed it, his immortality and ability to open up that are linked. It will always be here unfortunately unless he manages to break the curse or you somehow get cursed which he might be against because it’s not something you’d appreciate (personally I don’t mind but I can understand why some would). Also, I see him as someone who would take time to become exclusive. As we saw in obey me, most of the cast doesn’t mind the mc having multiple lovers so yeah it could be an issue.

CEASAR:

*proceed to throw a big cross at the post. Sorry not sorry lol*

Yeah a Zepelli. Considering who the second options were, you shouldn’t be surprised that you got the casanova lol. Ceasar is a big romantic and also a loyal friend. He’s determined, brave and willing to sacrifice himself for his goals.

How you met: Okay let me cook. I see both of you being childhood friends. Perhaps you grew up and joined him in his adventure to learn Hamon or you two met again years later when he was back (I had an idea that you were a model and he saw you in a magazine and that’s how he knew where you were but don’t know if you’d accept it lol. In short he saw the magazine when he came back and looked for you again). You two had lots of adventures together and often flirted with each other. It’s not uncommon to find you both enjoying yourselves and talking loudly without a care in the world. He definitely broke more rules after you met again. He always protects you in fights and you patch him up in exchange lol. If anyone were to insult you or your style they can expect one hell of a beating. I think he’d ask you out after a dangerous mission where he saw how scared he was of losing you.

In a relationship: Not much would change, he’d just be more romantic just as you like it because his love language is words of affirmation and gift giving. It’s giving la boheme vibes. He might not be able to keep up with you if you get into deep conversations but he will validate you and ask about it. He’s curious to know how you think and eager to make you happy. You two being so sarcastic and able to finish each other insults would be soooo funny. I can see him enjoying music with you and taking you to fairs to dance together. He might not be much into mystery or board games but he is competitive enough to participate and enjoy his time with you. Ohhh imagine you both laying under the stars and he makes you a flower crown. Personal headcanon, he doesn’t handle spicy food. Now for the bad parts here…he is too goal oriented and also won’t hesitate to leave you behind if it’s to protect you or accomplish his goal. Just as we saw with joseph unfortunately….better be able to calm him down from his reckless behavior.

MITSUYA:

He’s more stable than Kakucho. That’s literally the only reason lol.

How you met: Since you wanted future setup we’re gonna follow that. And thankfully, mitsuya usually shares the same future. You were his model, his first official model if you know what I meant. He always called you when he had your style in mind or an outfit that could fit you. Heck I can even see both of you having photoshoots together because he works with you a lot and you get along with his little sisters (he started working young so it’s to be expected that you met them before). As much as he tried to keep it professional, it’s difficult to do so with someone you see that often so you two are bound to talk and befriend each other. He always makes sure your favorite beverages are present and when he receives invitations to events like dinner he found himself thinking about you and eventually kept inviting you. He appreciates your sarcasm and independence when working with you because he knows you mean well and you’re honest too! This basically went from work to lovers in the span of many years. After perhaps many relationships you two found comfort in each other’s and it just clicked. He was always embarrassed if you started acting flirty with him but in the end he reciprocated and you asked him out.

In a relationship: He tries to keep it private so the paparazzi would leave you alone. He’s more open with you and often surprised you with dates at homes as well as flowers every week. If you get along with kids and like them (contrary to me), it won’t be unusual to find you playing with his sisters some board games and he’d join you. I think he low key sucks in video games. He will try for you but still…You two would definitely bond over art. You’re like his muse after all. He’d encourage you to draw and do music and in the future I can definitely see him dedicating a room for your hobbies. He’s more of an introvert so when you’re overactive he sometimes struggle to keep up, thankfully you’re willing to help him out lol. You’d definitely be the reason why he goes out more. Both of you being the therapist friends would make for a healthy relationship because you both have no issues sharing your problems. Be prepared to be surprised if you didn’t know he was in a gang. His friends will definitely be very curious about it. I can’t see much issues because he is such a green flag….

NANAMI:

Ok it was between him and choso not gonna lie. But nanami sounded more fun. I know that you’d think no but we might not get along as he is uh…pretty brutal. But we all saw how nice he really was so no excuse here. Gojo and you would cause trouble. Nanami is more down to earth and is the best calm you can get.

How you met: AT WORK. No just kidding. He’s too professional. You were neighbors. Now considering how nanami is….breaking the ice is very very difficult…..annoyingly so. I’d like to believe it happened when he came back exhausted from work and you were nearby to listen to him and give him advices over a nice drink. At the start it was just that, the two of you sharing your troubles and talking. And then one day when he saw you interested in one of his favorite restaurant he proposed to take you there. In a flirty voice you asked if it was a date and…he softly admitted that it was. Bet he left you speechless huh?

In the relationship: You’re most likely the one who’s gonna initiate the most because this old man gets tired easily. He can keep up with you and will always plan at least one date a week (he prefers indoor dates) as well as give you little gifts that remind him of you or he thinks would be useful for you but his job is very tiring. If you’re also a jujutsu sorcerer he’d be very worried. It’s a dangerous job and he’d probably ask you if you want to quit or ask to be with you on missions. He loves that you’re independent because otherwise it would be rather difficult otherwise to be honest. You two share lots of common points (I am sure he’d appreciate reading if he had more free time) and I can see you two having such a domestic life together caring for each other. Yes he can keep up with you and will enjoy a good debate but after the headache that is his job he likes coming home to enjoy time with his lover. The reason why he is still fighting. He is also the type to just kiss you to calm you down or to invite you for a fluffy moment lol.He is definitely interested in the arts and cooking. He’d slowly learn your other hobbies (dunno how you will get him into video games lol). I definitely believe he would start enjoying life more with you around. And you would earn a loyal lover. The only issue is his job…I don’t think I need to elaborate much as to why…

ANGEL DUST:

Since you already told me how you wanted your life to be in both hazbin and helluva, I’ll skip the introduction part a little.

Okay so for sweet angel dust, he tried to flirt with you first lol. I’d say you stayed at the hotel and he preferred you from all the people there so you spent a lot of time together. You are two trouble makers who get along. I thing that you’d argue a lot because Angel has problems and is always trying to ignore them with bad habits, he may even insult his friends in the process. But he is not irredeemable and if you scream at him enough you can make him see reason and that he is worth it. The path of redemption and repair is long for him and you will need patience. Now it is not for everyone but I already told you why I gave you angel dust. He is a caring person underneath all the masks. When both of you start going out together, he would try to hide it and act all loving only when you’re alone because he is afraid of valentino. This is something you can’t escape unfortunately and you have to understand his point of view. He has never been in healthy relationships and is in an unfair deal. He loves how you take care of him and make him feel at ease to air all his problems. Now he does lend you a listening ear but in his way (by proposing partying and causing trouble to let out the steam lol). He isn’t into most your hobbies but will make a sarcastic effort (dunno how you will get him into manga and video games…). He loves dressing up with you and engages in a lot of retail therapy. Angel dust is someone who lives in the moment and has self-destructive habits. You may feel like you’re only here as his therapist but it’s not the case. To him you’re a savior and whenever he has a fun thing he always thinks of you first. He feels guilty for airing all his trouble and will do his best to make you happy

STOLAS:

You two met at a party where he was bored out of his mind. He engaged in little talks and when he saw you two got along and you weren’t double faced he invited you to meet up for other little talks. He finds you to be easy to talk to and get along with. He is a young soul at heart and would gladly rebel with you lol. Stolas loves that you’re very independent because he is often busy with his princely duties. He is someone who would enjoy debating with you and just sharing his deepest thoughts. He is nice (when he wants) and also protective of you, if he felt like anyone was trying to take advantage of you they’re gonna pay dearly. He is also overactive! INVITE HIM TO ESCAPE GAMES OR ANY MYSTERY GAMES! He would love it! Stolas is a sweet lover who has a lot of flaws but would give it all up for happiness. His only problems in the relationship is his wife and trust issues lol. I can see both of you either getting in trouble together or him getting in trouble and you taking care of this drama queen.

AYATO:

You were a friend of Thoma that he got to know and enjoyed. You two went to many festivals together and he became interested in you. Your relationship is quite secret because he wants to avoid drama on both sides and make you comfortable (but everyone can see that he is softer with you). Ayato is mischievous and would sometimes engage in breaking rules with you (to the disbelief of both thoma and ayaka. What did you do lol). At least Thoma knows you have ayato best interest in mind and would never let him get hurt. Ayato is very busy, so he treasures every moment spent with you and plan as many dates as he can into his schedule. He often sends you gifts to apologize if he is too busy. You two are the biggest boba tea lovers, if you’re into that I can imagine both of you trying to make boba tea. He loves that you’re independent, confident and straightforward. He also engages in all your talks with his own teasing remarks or, if it’s a deep conversation, his inner thoughts. While you are openly sarcastic, he makes backhanded comments, what a dangerous duo. He doesn’t care that you act feminine at all. And if he can, he would love to match outfits with you or even lets you dress him up. He will always defend dogs unfortunately…He loves playing chess with you and I believe he has a personal art collection that you can observe (he’d even gift you some pieces later on). Overall, ayato is a nice and calm lover. His busy schedule and teasing remarks can be too much for some people (try to flirt with him and you’ll end up as red as a tomato) but he tries his best to make up for it

RUAN MEI:

Now I know you weren’t expecting her but I think both of you would fit well together. She is reserved, smart and spends a lot of time in her lab. Please teach her how to socialize lol (it’s what happened at first. It started like the MC but she liked you more and spent more time with you). She is an emotionally aloof and distant girlfriend because I think she doesn’t know how to act in those situations. Ruan Mei would happily ramble about her ideas and experiments to you while sharing her troubles and guilt over what she is doing. She loves that you’re interested in music and the arts! She finds them to be relaxing to look at so she often invites you to come with her and discuss them. She sometimes isolate when she is working and hope you don’t mind that. Lmao the duo of the scientist at work and her lover barging in all angry because she is not taking care of herself. You’re a rule breaker? Good. Cuz she is messing with life here. Your flirty nature surprises her and makes her all shy lol. She loves spending time with you watching movies and anime (im sure she loves all mystery related things). I think she is very good at board games even though she doesn’t plan them often….If one of her creations looked like you, she would keep it lol. In general Ruan Mei would learn how to be in a relationship with you, she can be distant and aloof without meaning it so just go and bring her back down to earth with us.

WILLIAM:

Poor forgotten William…how dare you do him wrong like that sniff sniff. I admit that the most difficult part of William…Is just befriending this man. Cuz once he befriends you, it’s easier for him to fall in love and ask you out. He is a very traditional boyfriend who would prepare a whole dinner date (perhaps he cooked) and invite you before asking you out at the end of it. In a relationship, there is a mandatory tea break with you that he would never miss. He has to bitch about his work to someone and if you have any issues he would be glad to take care of it. He may enjoy a calm environment but he will do his best to keep up with all your energy (give this old man a break). But he’d ask you on his worst days if he can just…lay down in your arms and enjoy your presence (aaawwwww). You being the dad friend is good for him. He is also the dad friend so having someone like that near him who will also take care of him would help him out greatly. With you around, he would start enjoying life more and would become less of a workaholic. He loves going to museums and concerts/opera with you. He tries to get tickets at least twice a week for these kind of events. His love language is mostly spending time together and helping you out. He may be rather brutally honest but he is softer with you. If you pester him enough, you can get a cat. Board games that rely on intelligence would be something he enjoys doing. You’re definitely the only one who can make him blush, he fails often lol. He always makes it a point to have your favorite beverage nearby. Beware of Grelle, she might try to murder you in the start. He is not feminine but would respect your style.

TREY:

He’s the therapist’s therapist, the dad of the dad. And yet he finds it in himself to be mischievous. Trey would ask you out on valentine day or with a special cake just for you. I believe you two were classmates and he asked you out at the end of the third or second year. Trey likes that you’re responsible, independent but still a rule breaker lol. At least you know how to have fun. Both of you would definitely cook together, he would even show you some family secret! Trey is understanding and can handle all your moods (he handled riddle after all) and he always seems to know how to make you feel better. I headcanon that he knows a lot of tea due to Cater and Rook…these two are very gossipy. He is not very good at games but would try. If you think he is not competitive….think again because he knows how to have fun and enjoys friendly debates. He likes it when you introduce him to new musics and forms of art (he would try to plan these dates when you two can). In general, Trey is a loving and calm boyfriend that can still keep you on your toes. He knows how to have fun while keeping the both of you safe. And he is curious, just like you which keeps the relationship lively.

#matchups #match ups #jjk #twisted wonderland #honkai star rail #genshin impact #black butler #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #tokyo revengers #obey me #jjba

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sentfromwolves · 9 months ago

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Thank u for indulging me (ಥ﹏ಥ) 💝

They're a pair of ocs that actually exist in different ways across universes (and several of my stories in both seen and unseen, or "off-page" ways) they're representative always in some way of life/death and sun/moon aspects in their respective regards. death wip, for instance, features them as core deities that have been either corrupted or torn asunder, and the mc's overarching plot is about restoring them to her world. Their core story (at least, the one where they'll feature heavily as main characters inside of the ensemble cast) is a massive dystopian epic, and in it, they initially meet as competitors on opposite teams, both of them vying to survive the deadly games that determine which among them become Slayers - genetically modified demigods that fight the apocalypse at the behest of their captor-creators - and which of them die for the entertainment of the masses. At first, their relationship is utterly aggressive. Josefine and Avarice butt heads fast, hard, and violently time and time again. There's no room for friendship in their current living situation, and it's very possible one of them will eventually have to kill the other to make it out from the competition alive. Josefine is charismatic, outgoing, and rogueishly delightful to the masses, while Avarice has a much more refined elegance. They're polar opposites in their demeanors, but both carry a high level of charisma, which often makes them really good market foils for each other when publicized. Later down the line, after their powers have manifested as a result of surviving First Dose and other things have happened, they become incredibly devoted to each other through shared traumatic incidents and also deep, inherent connectivity that has brewed under the surface-level tension they shared since their very first meeting. They have an intense pull toward each other, and their environment and situation guided a lot of hostility they held toward each other. They're soft with each other in ways they share with no one else, and they're deeply devoted. While both of them share deep platonic bonds with other core characters, they are singularly devoted as a romantic couple to each other. One core thing about them is that they're both immortal in their drafts whether they're deeply aware of it or not, but in this main story specifically, Avarice's powers allow him to come back from the dead rapidly, again and again, no matter how he's killed. Because he's embodying the divine essence of death itself, that's why his powers develop that way. So this whole doodle is kind of about how Josefine has to deal with watching him die in a ton of horrible ways, and sometimes has to be the one to temporarily kill Avarice himself when he loses control and begins deteriorating into a state of destruction that could have literal city-wide extinction events as a consequence. They have a lot of issues, but they also love each other so much. :') They embody the tropes like "I'd choose you. In every universe, I'd find and choose you." and also, "do you think we're together in every reality?" because they are. No matter what world they manifest in, they'll always feel incomplete until they find each other. I could rant on more and more about this honestly but I would be going all day skdnfksnf THANK YOU FOR INDULGING ME AND COMING TO MY TED TALK

“In the dream I couldn’t wake from, you died, you kept dying. And you didn’t come back.”

“I’m here now. I’m right here with you.”

#ch: avarice #ch: josefine #I JUST HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS ABOUT THEM YOUR HONOR

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anonymousbeefriendfanfics · 3 years ago

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This is very exciting! :D

Okay, let's think. As your very first request, I would like...

The first idea that comes to your mind! You're in charge of my request! The first thing that you think of is what I would like to read. And it has to be the first! No overthinking!

You'll either see this as a horrible request or a really good request, depending on how much creative liberty you like.

You're welcome! or I'm sorry! :)

Eeee!!! This was so much fun, even though I feel it was a little lower quality than my usual fics. I know you said the first thing I thought of, and well, that would be a Felix fic for sure-- but as you haven't read Last Legacy, I wanted to go for something you'd enjoy more! Regardless, I hope you like it!

I spent a while considering my options, reading through some prompts... but what ended up inspiring this fic, rather organically, might I add, was the night sky itself!

🐝

You're More Radiant Than the Stars

Fandom: The Arcana

Pairing: Asra x Reader/MC (Gender neutral)

Content warnings: None, just a whole bunch of fluff!!

🐝

"Where are we going?" I panted, trying to keep up with Asra as he half-led, half-dragged me up a hill.

My best friend only looked back at me with that charismatic smirk, laughing as they tugged at my hand again. "You'll see! We're almost there!"

An exhausting amount of time later, we finally arrived. Realistically, it was only a minute or two, but when you're running and trying not to laugh so hard you trip over something and fall flat on your face, it feels like forever. But oh, was it ever worth it.

Asra finally stopped, spinning to face me with one of the brightest grins I'd ever seen on their face, right before the little orb of light he'd conjured blinked out. While my eyes adjusted to the sudden darkness, he led me forwards-- more slowly this time, fortunately-- until we reached what might be described as a mountain of pillows and blankets.

Well, I'm not sure what I expected, but I should have known, really. It was Asra, after all. They released my hand, flopping backwards onto the pile. Laughing, I joined him on Pillow Mountain, glad the magician couldn't see the blush spreading across my cheeks as he wrapped an arm around me.

Snuggle! Faust popped out of Asra's sash, blepping cheerfully at me before squirming between us, making herself at home in the pile of soft. Humming contentedly, Asra pulled one of the huge, fluffy blankets over the three of us, chuckling softly. "I think Faust has the right idea. It is rather chilly tonight..." Leaning a little closer, he added softly, "But it's well worth it. Look up."

I shifted to lie on my back, rather than my side, looking up at the sky. The sky was full of stars-- fuller than I'd ever seen it from the city, where it was drowned by the light of streetlamps and candles and magic. But here, on a hill in the middle of nowhere... they were absolutely stunning. "Whoa. Oh my... it's beautiful."

"So are you."

Surprised, I looked back to Asra, finding myself entranced by the way the starlight shone in their eyes, made his fluffy white hair practically glow. "Oh, I-- thank you. You should see yourself, though. You look amazing in the moonlight..."

Blushing, he blinked at me, clearly not expecting the compliment. "Ah, you're too kind. Listen, I... I mean it, cheesy as it may be. You shine more brightly than any star in the sky."

Stunned and flustered, my first thought was to play along with the spontaneous flirting battle. "Yeah? Well you're more radiant than the moon itself."

That just made him laugh, pressing their forehead against my shoulder. "What am I going to do with you-? I'm serious!"

"So am I! You don't give yourself enough credit, Asra."

Sighing, they looked back up at the sky, falling into a comfortable silence for a few minutes before breaking it, almost too softly to hear. "I named a constellation after you, you know."

"Wait- what? You did? Which one?" I looked from Asra to the sky and back.

"Well... none of these, actually. It was in the oasis. I like stargazing there... and here, too. It's peaceful, and...it reminds me of you." Their voice softened at the last part, almost as if afraid to voice the thought.

There was something about this moment... lying here under the stars, Asra so close I could hardly breathe, illuminated so beautifully by the light of the stars... it felt like a dream. And so, I did something I've only dreamed of-- I kissed him.

Asra jumped slightly, startled, then immediately melted into the kiss, one hand moving to cup my cheek, the other tightening around my waist and pulling me closer. The kiss was soft and sweet, much like the person I was kissing, and it was over almost as quickly as it had begun. Asra pulled back slightly, lips lingering so close to mine I could feel it when he spoke again, just barely above a whisper. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that..."

We both leaned in again, but right as our lips touched-- Kiss?? Asra and I broke apart in a fit of giggles as Faust attempted to squeeze in between us again. "Oh, Faust... of course you get a kiss too!" Sharing an amused look, we both gave the snake a kiss on top of her head-- then another, for good measure. Finally, she curled up with us once more, and we all settled in for a long night of cuddling, stargazing, and, of course, kissing.

Writing Masterlist 🐝 Requests Open! Tag List 🐝

#beefriend-writes #the arcana #asra alnazar #asra x apprentice #the arcana asra #arcana asra #asrathearcana #stargazing #asra x reader

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curiousconch · 3 years ago

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Chase You / Chase Me (Pt. 3)

Part 3: Remember when everything was different

Catch up here: Series Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Aislinn, Gigi and Alex find friendship in the midst of the competition. One discussion led to another, pushing Alex to take a trip down memory lane, revealing the moment in her past where she and Gabe's paths crossed for the first time.

Book/Pairing: Choices - Laws of Attraction / Gabe Ricci x MC (Alex Keating)

Words: 1.7k+

Rating/Warnings: Mature (16+) / alcohol consumption, language. Scenes/themes may trigger trauma for some, reader discretion advised.

Disclaimer: Most of the characters as well as some dialogue belong to Pixelberry. I am merely borrowing them.

Sunday, downtown New York

"Wait, can you back up for a moment," Aislinn said across Alex, who was scooping the remains of her melted banana split. Gigi was sipping her ice-cold mimosa, their brunch table full of plates with scrapes of leftovers. The sun was out and so were they, dining al fresco under the shade of a huge white parasol and the gentle breeze cooling them every now and then. It was a perfect day so far.

The trio has agreed to meet up that Sunday to discuss what went down with the Rothswell case as well as to prep for the conference Sadie had invited them to. They were on some kind of a peace pact, all of them sharing the view that pitting women against women in the corporate world is just shitty business.

Alex has enjoyed their company. They exchanged imaginary one-liners that would have made Martin frown his heart out or Beau McGraw chortle his head off. And speaking of McGraw, they all concluded that the best strategic course of action was to let Beau enjoy his moment in the sun. One day, Alex would make sure to remind him that he tried to rain on her parade.

It was a refreshing and enlightening discussion, though she will forever be traumatized with how many swears Gigi can cram in a single sentence. But the sight of a flustered Aislinn while Alex and Gigi engaged in a battle of pick-up lines with their waiter was a strong second contender.

As their drinks flowed, the conversation naturally led to rhetorical questions, now settling at why they became a lawyer. Aislinn shared first, surprisingly, stating that her knack for analysis was just a natural fit to the demands of a career in law. Gigi's answer was simple - she can leverage her eidetic memory to earn herself some serious dough, allowing her to live it up and take impromptu vacations to Bali.

Alex tried to dodge the question. She had never needed to discuss her reason of leaving pre-med behind to attend law school. It wasn't a pleasant memory, and she doubted it will ever be.

The two ladies were quick to see her attempts of evasion. But together, they finally wore her down, Alex left laughing with their shenanigans as they cornered her to tell her story. So she told them that she knew Gabe Ricci. And that it was because of him why she was a lawyer. Alex decided that revealing the truth was worth it, seeing how their jaws just dropped to the floor.

"Girl, you have to explain yourself right now," Gigi demanded, to which Aislinn seconded.

Alex snorted as she went back to skimming what was left of her dessert. "It's a boring sob story, and I don't want to turn this lovely morning into a snooze fest."

"We're not going anywhere, right Gi?" Aislinn turned to Gigi beside her, who nodded whilst sipping another glass of cocktail.

"Fine, but only if you swear this won't leave this table," she said. The two held up their hands invoking a half-smiling Alex, sensing nothing but sincerity. So she drank down her glass of bloody mary and took a deep breath, composing her tale.

"Buckle up, ladies, you're in for a ride."

10 years ago, in a town near Boston

Alessandra Keating had never felt more alone than she did that day.

They said she needed to just move forward. But how can she, when every day since the crash, she felt nothing but emptiness? How can she feel alright, when the only life that she knew was suddenly taken away from her?

It wasn't long before she found out that the car accident was caused by someone being reckless, by someone who thought they were above the law. Then, she imploded. No way could she let her parent's deaths be forgotten. No fucking way.

For the past three years, she invested all of herself into this endeavor. Researching, studying, choosing the right counsel, even raising funds. It was what kept her breathing, what gave her purpose. Ultimately, it was what kept her sane.

From filing the lawsuit to attending mediations, to numerous settlement meetings and colliding with every legal roadblock possible - Alex made sure to see them through. Only for everything to be decided that day - the bench trial.

One sweltering summer morning in her hometown's courthouse, Alex sat on the side of the plaintiff, with her long brunette hair tangled in waves. She let her senses wander, taking in the dark wooden panels and pews, her sense of smell invaded by the scent of old mahogany. She sealed her lips into silence, hiding her nerves by straightening the bargain khaki suit that she borrowed.

She barely held it in as her eyes travelled to the table beside them, catching a glimpse of the man that caused her immeasurable pain. With jet black hair and looking as young as her, he sat with an almost mocking expression. He was wearing a crisper set of suit, creating an illusion of trustworthiness that Alex can easily see through.

Maximilian K. Cornell. The green-eyed teenager who swerved his sports car onto the same slippery road Alex and her parents were passing through. The very same boy who got out unharmed, but left Alex's family to die in the snow. Her opponent was a slithery snake who managed to screw the justice system so many times over, just because his parents had the grease to do so.

But after the crash, the town decided they can no longer turn the other cheek. Alex's decision to sue was propelled by the support of the countless friends and families whom her parents have helped in their hour of need. But that still proved not enough.

Her mind whirled back to the proceedings, and to how every strategy, every plan of attack was being thrown out. With every whip from the defense, she started to grow impatient. As another traffic expert from her camp was dismissed, Alex just snapped inside. She leaned to Mr. Leroy, a withering man on the brink of retirement who was her lawyer, asking for them to convene outside.

"I'm sorry Mr. Leroy, but your strategies were just scrutinized and torn into pieces," Alex said in a low voice the moment they stepped out into the hallway.

"Alex, I am doing my best here. We clearly don't have the upper hand, lacking the incriminating evidence that we need," the man replied, exasperated.

"Have we dug up his previous records? I mean, why on earth would he have a sealed history? Doesn't that mean something?" she continued.

She continued to dictate her litany of better-positioned moves, but even Alex knew she wasn't getting through. So she excused herself from the conversation, hoping a cup of iced coffee will somehow mitigate her frustrations.

As soon as she came back, she found Mr. Leroy convening with a much younger man in a dark navy suit. His aura screamed "big city hotshot", albeit the exhausted look in his brown eyes. Not wanting to interrupt, she held off from approaching. However, her curiosity didn't stop her from eavesdropping.

What she heard the charismatic man say was a legal precedent that would have opened the sealed records in question. And with all the mind-boggling legal jargon, that's just about what she understood.

"Gabriel Ricci? I'm looking for an attorney named Gabriel Ricci?" a female voice from a nearby window called out, which made the young man raise his head. She saw him end the conversation abruptly, where a flustered Mr. Leroy hastily thanked him. Alex took that as her queue to approach her lawyer.

"Alex, we might be able to turn things around," she heard Leroy say.

And by some miracle, things did turn around. With her lawyer using the precedent offered by the young attorney earlier, their side gained the needed momentum to tip the scales in their favor. By the end of the trial, the verdict was out - Cornell will never be able to drive another vehicle, along with paying her a hefty amount of damages and fees.

They won.

Alex had to pinch herself before the victory sunk in. When it did, she felt an immense burden lifted from her shoulders.

After a long, long time, Alex can finally breathe.

Broken free from her nightmares, she asked herself what's next? The answer came to her almost immediately. Right there and then, she decided what she wanted to be. Like that man from the courthouse, she will become a lawyer.

Fueled by this new sense of mission, she saw a future for herself. No longer held by the past, she finally was able to move forward.

Indeed, Alex became what she set out to do - a lawyer who took on hopeless, even impossible cases and won them. A lawyer her parents would be proud of.

A damn good lawyer, just like Gabriel Ricci.

Present Day, at a New York Penthouse

Gabe sat in his home office clad in nothing but his white bath robe, holding a worn manila folder.

Five years ago, Gabe saw this case as his opportunity to make Robbie proud. The defendant had all the parallels with his brother - a teenager, incarcerated young, where the punishment had presumed to be too harsh. He now knew it was rightfully just.

But at that time, he was blinded by passion and ambition. He wanted to prove to himself and to Sadie what he can do. Taking on this case that was practically unwinnable would give him more power, more control over the pro bono cases he wanted to take. Actually winning this though, that proved to be his fatal mistake.

Your cockiness got the better of you again, Ricci.

His mind went to Alex. That was the direction his every waking moment drifted to nowadays. Whether he liked it or not, he'd answer some other day.

He had to let her know. If he didn't, Alex would eventually find out herself. Once she discovers that he was the one who had set this man free, she would hate him.

Gabe can't bring himself to think of that happening, of losing that chance with her, or of losing Alex's trust.

Hell, I'm going to lose her entirely if she finds out.

These realizations devastated him.

But how can they both escape the looming shadows of the past unscathed? Even he couldn't figure that out.

Sighing, he rubbed his hand on his face, reeling at his lack of options. He then stood up, slamming the open folder on his desk as he turned to face the window, simmering in his own regrets. Papers slipped out to the carpeted floor, including a full-page mugshot of the defendant.

It was Maximilian Cornell.

Author's Notes: With Sadie being shady AF, I feel like we all need some dose of female friendship right? Also, this is my HC why Gabe constantly pulls away from MC, not only because of their working relationship. Did the reveal live up to the cliffhanger? Let me know in the comments! 👇👇👇

Tag list: @adiehardfan @pixelnutrookie @starryjieun @latinagiraffe @sarcastic01lily @spookycolorpeanut @ophrookie @suitfer @thegreentwin @mkatschoicesblog @made-of-roses

@choicesficwriterscreations

Thank you for your continued reading!

Want to be added or removed to the tag list? No problem - just let me know 😊. Reblogs are also much appreciated! 💕

#laws of attraction #choices laws of attraction #choices loa #laws of attraction fanfiction #choices laws of attraction fanfiction #choices fic writers creations #fics of the week #gabe ricci x mc #gabe ricci #aislinn tanaka #gigi sinclair

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sirensmojo · 4 years ago

Text

"KINDRED", 4 - Thomas Shelby x Reader.

Warnings: Swearing, romance, violence, guns, drama, slight smut(“slight”?)

Word Count: 5k+

AN: When it’s a reader and Tommy scene, it’s Tommy POV.

❰ Previous Chapter

Tommy leaned backwards on his desk chair, a cigarette stuck in between his index and middle fingers. He was looking at the ceiling as if its colour brought to him answers to the multiple questions that had been clouding his mind lately.

Since the day he and Y/N kissed, he noticed she had been avoiding him. She didn’t even send him the weekly book she usually dropped at the office.

He didn’t understand her, and each time he tried to put back together the pieces to get a clear view of her character, the memories of the smell of her hair brought him somewhere else. And whenever he would dare to close his eyes too long, he would taste her lips again.

Even if she chose to stay away from him, he entered her world once and appreciated it so greatly it had printed into his spirits, like a hand in wet cement.

He allowed himself to shift his thoughts to Mosley from time to time, the d-day was approaching and with it, the time he’ll take the lead of the British fascist party.

(...)

The only way Lizzie found to see her husband these days was to come back in business as Tommy’s secretary. He told her she wouldn’t have to work when they got their daughter, Ruby, but he was rarely home, and when he was, his mind was elsewhere.

Even after promising to let her in sometimes, she struggled the most to read him, but despite all, she was deeply in love with him. She had to make the effort and reach for him.

He didn’t agree with her taking back her job at first and she knew exactly why, as being responsible for her having a baby, he had to take care of her, at least he felt like he did. He was undeniably a murderer, cut-throat gangster, but he had convictions and rules to stick to.

This morning began as normal as any other for the Shelby company limited, Lizzie was occupied with papers as Tommy locked himself in his office.

The door opened, Lizzie’s gaze instantly got up, searching for who might that be. When her gaze met the figure, her jaw dropped. ‘Not again’ she thought. This scene reminds her of the time May Carleton came in here only to entice her Tommy.

She knew he didn’t owe her anything, but he could’ve waited at least a day or two before calling another woman. Not even twenty-four hours earlier Tommy was fucking her in some alley in the cold, probably thinking about a woman he knew before France. But he said he was fucking her, Lizzie, and not his lost teenage lover, even if she knew better.

Tommy and his cock.

That May Carleton was walking so confidently in front of Lizzie, she probably thought she was the one to own Tommy’s cock. If only she knew. She glared at her so strongly that May avoided looking at her at all costs.

The woman that just passed the door didn’t look her way, too occupied walking straight to the doors of Tommy’s office with the arrogance of an army.

Lizzie’s eyes went from her seemingly very expensive shoes, up her green pants suit in which pockets she kept a hand, to her suit jacket that fell perfectly on her waist as the end of which was drawing the woman’s hips. Her leather belt marked, even more, her waist and its golden details matched the imposing blue pearls necklace along with the large same looking earrings.

As soon as the woman entered the room, the atmosphere switched, her figure called the eyes, not only due to her ostentatious jewellery collection but also by the woman’s charismatic aura. Even the clicking sound her heels made on the hard ground was full of power. Anyone could hear the confidence in each of her steps, which made Lizzie gasp.

As a moth attracted to light, Tommy got out of his office, a cigarette hanging on his lips. He pressed a shoulder on the door frame, his eyes fixed on the woman walking towards him.

He was indeed waiting for her.

His deep blue eyes weren’t examining the woman’s form in an enticed way, he was solely looking at her face, a thing that made Lizzie’s heart ached because she understood there might be more than sexual attraction between them.

Lizzie knew her husband. From the way he dawdled on the woman’s face to the little waving of his shoulders, she just knew.

The atmosphere again had changed, Lizzie was now oppressed by their two presences, the warm and powerful one of the stranger and the usual cold and disconcerting one of her husband, one completing the other.

As her heart didn’t want to admit it yet, a burning look was exchanged by the two pairs of eyes, and confirmed the obvious her brain already knew, Thomas had found his match, and it wasn’t her.

(...)

Tommy took off his shoulder from the door frame and stood straight as he humidified his lips. The librarian walked to him with her usual unreadable face and when she was close enough, she grabbed his cigarette off his fingers taking her time to make their skin touch as much as she could. Her eyes were still deeply in Tommy’s as millions of sparks animated the tips of his fingers.

The man coughed and turned to Lizzie, motioning his hand to the woman behind the desk, in an attempt to ignore the sparks. “Mrs Y/L/N, meet my wife, Lizzie. Lizzie, it’s Mrs Y/L/N, the librarian I work with at the House Of Commons.” He had sensed the intense look of his wife since Y/N came closer to him.

“Mrs Shelby! I am so honoured to meet you, I heard about your typewriting skills, writing eyes closed, eh? I could never.” Y/N gave a warm smile to Lizzie that squinted her eyes in anticipation. His wife didn’t believe in what the librarian just told and he was sure Y/N knew it too.

“Yeah? Well, I never heard of you.” Lizzie spitted.

“It’s because you don’t keep company with my people.” She had the audacity to take a puff on the cigarette she stole earlier from Tommy looking his wife straight in the eyes.

Even if Y/N’s voice was calm and solemn, it was clear it was an attack. The implication made Lizzie gritted her teeth as she got up and joined them. Tommy rubbed a hand on his own face knowing exactly what she was going to do.

She stood behind the librarian. “And what business do you have here in Birmingham if you work in London?”

“You’re husband,” Y/n responded, not even turning to her. She bypassed Tommy and opened the door’s office before disappearing behind them.

Lizzie followed her with her eyes before looking up at her husband. “The fuck is she doing here? Are you going to fuck her, Thomas?”

“No, Lizzie. Am not going to fuck her.” He responded exhaling deeply.

“Yeah, take me for an fucking idiot.” She walked to the desk to grab her hat & coat. “That’s all you’re good for anyway. You fucked all Birmingham and now London, huh?” She sneered before shaking her head walking to the exit.

“Lizzie.” He called, but the woman had already closed the door.

Tommy raised his brows and sighed before turning to the office where he marked a pause. It was another type of storm he had to face now. He finally opened the door and got in, only to find Y/N seated behind his desk, in his chair.

“Tommy Shelby, OBE, what a pleasure to meet your family.”

“It was quite a show you put out there.” He closed behind him.

When he turned back at the room, she was walking toward him, but she already was pretty near.

“So you fucked all Birmingham already, hum? Trying to expand your activities in London?” Y/N leaned on him, she was so close he could smell her breath and he wondered what was her fucking problem. She ignored him for days after they kissed and here she was again, pushing him to the edges. It was almost as if it was a game for her. And if it was, she was winning all the damn rounds.

“And you? What’s with the attitude?”

“What are you talking about.” She took a step back.

“You have been busy this week, eh?” Tommy walked to the counter and poured whiskey in two glasses.

“Well, the man you have your little brother watching, he talks.” She loosely let out. “The bookmaker Billy Grade, the one that conducts the football betting business” She paused looking at Tommy’s surprised expression. “He doesn’t like Arthur.”

“To who?” Was the simple question he needed an answer to.

“I made moves with Mosley so, yes, it had been a busy week, Thomas.”

At the revelation, Tommy’s eyes squinted. If there was one thing he learnt with Grace was to make sure his feelings weren’t a shackle to business.

“I’m not betraying you, no need for these wrinkles at the corner of your eyes. But you gotta know he’s offered me the South.” She went to the counter and took the glasses before sitting in one of the chairs in front of his desk, one cup in her hand, the other she put on one of the numerous files covering the desk.

Tommy went sitting in his armchair. He lit a cigarette and held one to the woman that declined.

“Only like to take yours.” She gave as an explanation.

“How come he offered you the south?” He ignored her comment.

“North’s Mc Cavern’s, Middle’s yours, South’s vacant. But I have another plan for the South, and you might agree with me as well.” A rictus took place at the corner of her lips, as Tommy looked at her, curious. “Mr Solomons. I know he wrote you that he’s still alive.”

Tommy’s lids fluttered a couple times, he didn’t say anything. How could she know so much all the time? Was she listening to him or something? He for a second thought it might be her spying on him on the phone but this idea went away almost immediately.

She wasn’t Grace.

“He and I are great friends. Not as if he really has any, but do I?” She muttered utterly to herself.

Tommy coughed and leaned back on his chair, making himself comfortable.

“What’s with you, Tommy?” Asked the librarian, and he himself couldn’t put a finger on what was going on. It was always that way when she was around, but everything intensified when they leaned their breath as one and connected together.

His mind was so full of thoughts that had nothing to do with business that it was hard for him to concentrate. But for some reason, he just couldn’t push those thoughts aside.

He wanted her, he yearned for her to touch him the way she did that night, to intertwine their fingers together again and forget about Mosley for an instant, just one. Tommy humidified his lips again as raising his eyebrows, it was like his lips were always dry or incomplete. Her lips belonged on his. He raised his gaze to her in distress.

“You want to come to me house, Tommy? Again?” Her voice resonated in his head, her words taking him by surprise.

“Huh?”

“Have a drink or two, meet my cat...” She went on, looking intently at his soul hiding behind his icy blue iris.

He didn’t recognize her, but did he even know her? It seems not. Every time they meet, she puts another mask on. Somewhere in his soul, he believed it wasn’t a good idea, that thing they shared. But he knew he couldn’t turn away and break the partnership. Not now. Not only could she be hard to beat if they turned to enemies, but he also needed her, she was part of his business now. She was too precious an ally for him to withdraw from the deal.

As he didn’t respond, she drank from her cup, finishing its countenance in one go. “I’ll ask Arthur then...replace his Linda.” She added looking up to the ceiling innocently.

“The fuck did you say?” He hustled to spit as watching her without blinking.

Her gaze went back on Tommy, a playful gleam animating her pupils.

“What do you say?” She sent him back the ball. It was indeed a game for her, and he knew once again she would be the winner because he wouldn’t say no.

He tried to escape her game by coughing it away and smoked his cigarette. “How are you going to bring up Alfie Solomons with Mosley?” He went back on business, but the woman didn’t seem ready yet to give up.

She got up and grabbed the phone with one hand as the other was dialling a number. She sat at the corner of the desk, turning toward the Shelby brother and the phone. Tommy watched her movements closely, curious about how she was going to handle him dismissing her offer.

He couldn’t even hide the fact her stubbornness did something to him, even if he repressed any desire for her. It was as if they were the principal characters in the regency era drama he ended up devouring as it was the book Y/N was reading on their first meeting.

He was so deep in thought he didn’t hear the librarian asking the cable woman to put her in connection with the individual she intended to reach.

“Yeah, Arthur, it’s me. I wonder if you would wa--” Tommy had heard enough. He hung up the line and fixed the phone for what feels like centuries, slowly realizing what his reaction meant.

The Y/E/C eyes woman remained silent, a silence that felt heavy on Tommy’s conscience. He straightened back and leaned on the back of his chair, glancing at the ceiling.

He was done with those games. He couldn’t believe he dove into her crude farce head first, and now he had to face her because she had been staring at him the last minute.

“You’re a devil.” He let the words lazily slip between his lips.

“Call me Lilith.” She spiritedly exclaimed. Tommy’s eyes went to her face at that exact moment.

“So you’re jew, eh? That explains why you know Alfie, but contradicts the fact you and Mosley are close.” Tommy thought out loud. According to his memories, Lilith was a demon of the jew tradition, which led him to his conclusion.

The woman instantly smiled, seemingly very content about the Shelby head struggling to catch her.

“Fair enough.”

“You come to my house?”

“I was talking about the comparison.” He paused, looking at her blankly.

She sighed.

No doubt she was annoyed by Tommy’s behaviour, but she won way too much at their little game. It was about time Tommy won. It was unusual of him to be that shallow but it was their intimate space, so he didn’t care.

(...)

Gina couldn’t see anything when the abductors took her out of the car to lead her down some stairs into what she surmised to be a cellar, she already had a piece of cloth hiding her vision and one in her mouth, preventing her from screaming.

She was petrified and the fact the individuals didn’t say a word, neither during the ride nor once in the room didn’t help her. She could feel heavy drops of sweat rolling down her forehead as dried tears itched the corners of her eyes.

The place was colder than what she remembered a cellar to be. Flashes of her childhood coming back to her from time to time.

“THREE… TWO… ONE… ZERO. I’M COMING GINA!” Her cousin shouted from the kitchen where they last saw each other. The little girl used to come down in the cellar to hide when playing hide and seek with any member of her family, from her cousins to her father.

As her mother was severely ill, she couldn’t play with Gina, but her father always did. When not leading the believers to sing the praises of the Almighty at the local church, he was both a father and a mother to her.

Although her mother & herself loved each other more than anything, she soon stopped seeing her. When at first her father let Gina visit the room of her mother once a day, it decreased from once a week, to once a month to simply never.

Despite the child doggedly asking for her mother, he remained unyielding and managed to keep his daughter away from her mother for her own sake.

It was only when growing older and after the death of her mother that Gina understood her father’s demeanour. He was desperate not to let his daughter watch her mother die.

This time, the cellar didn’t feel familiar and it’s not a joyful feeling that resides in her. Her body reacting to the cold, she was shivering as goosebumps appeared at the same time as she heard footsteps coming her way. Her blood boiling like hot water, she struggled to breathe.

“Call her father.” Gina heard a female voice she had never heard before. She listened to footsteps receding before a whimper escaped her throat.

“Well, you heard the woman, let her talk.” The voice ordered. And just like that, her mouth got freed. “Go on.” The female voice seemed to address her directly.

“What do you want with my father?” She managed to say after she moved her jaws to get rid of the piece of cloth’s taste.

“He’s an old friend.”

“Can’t you just call like normal people instead of abducting his child?” Gina murmured, not totally relieved from the fear. She wanted to appear unmoved and plucked all the courage left in her to get an untroubled voice.

“I know you, Gina.” The voice started, getting closer. “You alright? You’re trembling.” Well, it seems like all the effort she put in wasn’t enough, her true emotions were discovered.

“You know me, huh? So you know as soon as you detach me I’ll assault you and spit right in your face, right?” She angrily let out, she didn’t accept to be defeated nor seen while being vulnerable and defenceless.

But it seems like the individual challenged her, because she heard someone pass behind her and loosen the cords holding back her hands. At the same moment, the piece of cloth blinding her fell on her collarbones.

Before her, stood straight a woman with a closed face, her facial traits weren’t aggressive, but in her eyes, Gina could swear she saw in there an untamed fire. Her brown eyes slid to a sitting white dog near the stranger, it looked like a wolf, even its huge size reminded her of the fierce beast she read about as a teenager.

It was ridiculous to see this situation unleashed the least probable memories of her youth into her mind as vividly as yesterday.

“Who are you? What do you want?” The woman before Gina mimicked her voice, a smile drawing on her lips. “They always ask the same questions.” She shrugged her shoulders seeing Gina’s surprised expression. The freshly Gray woman closed her mouth that was slightly open in an “o” shape and clenched her jaw.

“Well, I need your father to come here, in England. And you,” she tapped Gina’s end of nose, “you’re the thing that’ll make him travel the world all the way to Birmingham. To my greatest pleasure,” She patted her own chest before motioning to Gina, “and much to your displeasure.”

Gina didn’t even know what to say, she used the time the woman spent talking to massage her wrists as the cords were tied very tight. Her gaze dawdled on the woman in front of her, she was wearing a very long purple coat to which two buttons situated at the waist of its owner were closed. She also wore black lace gloves with ostentatious golden rings above the fabric. The diamonds of her rings were blue, matching her earrings. When the woman turned to the side to pat her dog’s head, Gina noticed she had braided her hair in a single braid that fell on her back.

The woman crouched down for her eyes to be at the same level as the dog’s ones, one of her hands scratching its head. “One single word and it attacks you, so you better behave.” She turned her head to Gina, warning her. The blonde woman glared at the other before glancing toward the dog in anticipation.

Y/N got back up and turned her back to Gina as she started to walk toward the stairs. “Get comfortable, it’s your new home for a few days.”

“What, you’re leaving me in this? With the dog?” She screamed at the Y/H/C haired woman.

“If I were you, I’d avoid screaming, Gina doesn’t like too loud noises.” She waved goodbye as answering without even glancing toward Gray.

“What?” Gina asked, confusion in her voice.

Y/N chuckled a bit before turning around, her index went from the dog to Gina, “Yeah, meet your twin.” She walked backwards a couple of seconds before turning back to the stairs and climbing them.

(...)

House Of Commons, London.

The door of Tommy’s office abruptly opened on an angry Michael.

The Shelby brother that was pouring himself some whisky glanced at his cousin. “Michael.” He welcomed.

“Where the fuck is my wife, Tommy?” Gray asked, frowning.

“What?” He squinted his eyes.

“Where. The. Fuck. Is. My. Wife.” Michael spitted each word, looking straight into his older cousin’s eyes.

Tom blinked a couple times, not understanding the request.

“Days ago when coming back from the fucking restaurant some fucking people took her.” The younger Gray calmed a bit, seeing that Tommy truly didn’t know what he was talking about.

“How did they look?” Tom asked, concerned. Even if Michael might have betrayed him, he was family still and anyone jeopardizing the life of a member of the Shelby clan or someone related to them should taste the sweet fondles of death’s fingers.

“Men in fucking black.” Michael started to pace up and down, both his hands passing over his face. “I’m getting mad, Tom, me head fucking all over the place...” He continued.

“Men, no women?” Tommy brows raised, he had to ask. He remembered the conversation he had with that librarian when she was telling him she thought Gina was the weakness and force of his cousin and that she might do something about it.

“No.” Michael stated firmly. Tommy’s tensed shoulders relaxed. “Or..” Tommy raised his brows. “I don’t know, Tom. Fuck.”

“We’re going to find her, Michael. Stay in your hotel room, stay put, near the phone, right?” The Shelbys' head tapped his cousin’s shoulder before leaving the office.

(...)

He stopped the car near the portals and got out, a cigarette hanging on his lips. Tommy walked the pointlessly long alley, by-passing a ton of fountains and trimmed bushes of different forms and shapes.

The fair distance gave him time to rethink everything that concerned Y/N and his relationship with her. If she truly was behind the disappearance of his cousin’s wife, he would have to deal with her, meaning going to war, which was far from the plan since he entered politics.

He knocked on the door without waiting any further once he joined the principal door. He was looking intently at the windows trying to see a silhouette through it or an ignited light of some sort, but nothing.

The door abruptly opened, making a loud noise and the figure of the librarian was to be seen. Tommy raised his hand to her face, pointing his gun at her, but when her body was fully visible thanks to the moon shining, he blinked, bewildered.

His eyes dropped on a Y/N only dressed with an emeraude lace nightgown. The top was all see-through, but it didn’t stop him from cocking the gun and hold it steady in between her eyebrows. Even though he was here because he suspected her to have turned her back to him, his body reacted a whole different way to the view. His heart started to pounder in his chest as a warmth suddenly took prisoner his upper body. He swallowed in an attempt to dismiss the feeling ready to burst out.

“Missing our start?” She let out, not even pretending to be scared or shook by the situation. As a matter of fact, in their second meeting, Tom indeed pulled a gun at her, how could he forget that. Nobody ever had the nerve to threaten him on his own doorsteps, but of course, she did.

“Where’s Gina?” He ignored she was half-naked along with her remark.

“What the fuck, Thomas?” One of her eyebrows raised in confusion. “What’s happened?”

Tommy switched the position of his fingers, putting his index right on top of the trigger to make known he knew she was lying.

As she felt the danger, the woman banged the door on Tom’s face and not even a second later, he heard bullets being fired as he saw holes drawing through the door. The time stopped, or at least everything appeared as slower.

He instinctively put his arms over his head and kneeled as other bullets were being fired, he managed his way to the wall of the mansion, staying down.

“Fucking hell, Y/N!” He shouted his lungs out, his ears whistling due to the bullets’ noise.

“Remember when I warned you, Thomas. You pull a gun, I shoot!” She accentuated the last part, her tone underlined by anger.

“Why did you take her?” He kept his head close to the wall as shaking it, trying to totally recover his hearing.

“You should’ve asked that when you could, Sergent Major.” She calmly stated.

Tommy could hear she was re-loading her gun.

He looked at the gravels under him and recognized the bullet belonging to a rifle. He frowned, wondering how come she got a rifle.

“No. Put down the rifle, I'm throwing me gun.” He said loudly before dropping his gun in the grass far away from him, his weapon made a muffled noise while encountering the ground.

He didn’t hear anything for a minute that seems to last hours. The night breeze came fondling his face, helping him to ease his breath as the silence made him fully recover his hearing.

The front door opened, and Y/N peeked through. Only one of her Y/E/C eyes was to be seen, and even if her pupil was dilated due to the adrenaline, her look seemed concerned. “Are you hurt?” She solemnly asked, she, as well, being out of breath.

Tommy shook his head on both sides before he managed to stand, helped by the wall.

“You mad woman.” He closed his eyes as taking a deep breath in, knowing she wouldn't try to kill him tonight. When he opened his eyes again, she was in front of him, barefoot on the gravel.

“Sorry… I tend to lose my shit when I’m in danger.” She placed the rifle hanging around her neck to her side, a hand holding it still.

“You weren’t. I wasn’t gonna fucking shot, just trying to scare you.”

“...Well you angered me.” She hesitated in even giving him an answer. She finally decided she didn't need the rifle anymore and went placing it against the wall.

“Not fear, eh?” He teased, and she shook her head as a response.

“Why the fuck did you take Gina away? Michael’s all over the place, he even came to me. The boy’s fucking losing it.”

“Well, firstly, he deserved a little reminding he was still a boy as you correctly underlined,” she raised her brows looking at him, “secondly, after further research, I found it I know her father. Long story short, he’s the only one to be able to deal with her uncle if we don’t want any blood spilt.”

“Fucking was about to spill me gut on your doorstep, the fuck you care about spilt blood, Y/N?” He furrowed his brows as agitating one of his hands, motioning to the ground beneath their feet.

“Yeah,” she acquiesced, “not me that cares about fucking family. It’s you.”

That’s when he realized how serious she took their partnership. When he thought she was solely doing what fitted her best, she indeed took into consideration Tommy's convictions. She took seriously the fact he didn't want the family to be hurt. And although he ranged on her side regarding scaring Michael a bit to make him realize something, he never thought of Y/N to be tough enough to act with as much strategy as ruthlessness. She definitely outdid him in this case.

This sudden realisation aroused something in him. She cared. Even if the care she gave was nonetheless peculiar and typical to her character, she did what she could with what she had right? And right now she was working with him with as much resilience and fierceness as she would do with her own organisation.

“If it was up to me, fucking bullets to the head for both of ‘em and we done.” She dismissively worded as looking afar. “Where’s your gun?” She lazily looked back at him.

Tommy hesitated a short period of time before he grabbed her wrist and pulled her against himself. She didn’t push him away as he neared his face near her, she was the one sealing their lips together. This time, none of them were eager for the other, their kiss was light, soft and pure, contrasting with the chaotic situation they put themselves in.

The blue-eyed man slipped a hand on her back, fondling her skin above the piece of cloth covering her body while she reached for the button of his pants under his coat.

The atmosphere switched, not even seconds earlier it was love talking, now it was a whole another emotion ruling them.

Tom started to walk toward the door, forcing her to walk backwards. When she understood what he intended to do she murmured a soft “No.” and he opened his eyes darkened by desire and urge, looking into hers that were screaming for sex.

A smile grew on her lips as she went sticking her back to the nearest wall, her fingers strongly gripping on the man’s tie. He didn’t break the eye contact and joined her, flattening one of his hands on the cold wall. The warmth of his longing for the woman added to the coldness of the night were mixing together so well he felt a little dizzy.

He couldn’t think about how often he imagined them during their first time or how often he tried to picture Y/N’s curves in his head but his body somehow knew how much he wanted this. His hands were dawdling on any portion of her figure he could find, gulping each piece that was giving to him as if she was the first woman he’d ever touched.

Each kiss enticed him a bit more and whenever he closed his eyes he could literally see fireworks exploding everywhere in him. And whenever he would open them, he would find Y/N looking intently at him, her expression revealing everything she could never tell him, her feelings for him as well as her deepest fear, frustrations & beyond, her eyes being the messenger of the immensity of a soul, to another.

She quickly got to his bum she previously teased with one knee before reaching for his length.

Her cold fingers struck it a few times before she came aligning him with the distress for feeling him inside.

Once he was perfectly aligned, she released him and reunited her lips to his, where they belonged, giving him the green light. He thrust slowly at first, letting her some time to get used to his size. She murmured a low “Tommy...”, her legs encircling his hips as he grabbed one of them firmly. He was keeping her as close to him as possible, making sure their bodies were as connected as their souls were. He ultimately began to come and go, increasing his pace as time passed by.

Her high pitched moans came directly to his ears, the best sounds he’s heard out of his entire life without a doubt.

Following Chapter ❱

#peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x y/n

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mushroomkwan · 4 years ago

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Beauty and the Beast (M)

Pairing: Johnny Suh//Seo Youngho x Female! Reader//Soulmate/Hybrid AU of sorts this fic was a trip to write

Words: 3,186

Warnings: porn with some plot(idk how to just write a smut anymore oops), tiger hybrid!johnny, deer hybrid! reader, amateur writing(I haven't written in a year or two so it might be shit sorry y'all) size kink, praise kink, and some degradation but its miniscule, big cock johnny bitch let's be honest 😳👀, oral (female receiving), fingering, technically panty sniffing too, minor mentions of blood, unprotected sex (wrap it up y'all), breeding??

SYNOPSIS: Being in heat when you meet your mate is both ideal and horrific. Johnny shows you the latter isn't a possibility with him.

It's past the midnight hours, the sky a swirl of pale yellows and pinks filtering through the trees and startling you as it peeks through a sliver of the curtains in your den and onto your face. You wheeze as you stretch your body, your hands searching for the clothes you had laid out the night before, tucked onto your dresser along with the accessories you chose. Today was the day you had been looking forward to for weeks, and your nerves were all over the place. Hybrid society, separated from the very humans who created them, was ruled as a hierarchy, the first hybrid to become exiled had become Queen, and her children onward reigned. And today, you crowned the new King, Queen Seo Myeoryun's son Youngho, who had been a pillar of the community since he was born. And everyone likes a good coronation ceremony, so what was not to love? Well besides the fact that it fell onto the same day your heat should have started. It would be fine though, it only really hurts or is bothersome when you've found your mate, and you've yet to find yours. Without your mate, heats were just small cramps in your side and your sex drive goes up. It may seem cliche, but part of you wished it to be Youngho. He's a gentleman, he's ethereal visually and conceptually, and he makes you feel included at every social gathering, sending you drinks, and smiling at you from across the room. He had yet to come up to you though. And perhaps it was right of him to. There was still that stigma of predator and prey among hybrids, and you were a deer, timid, small, and a tiger's ideal meal. And Youngho unfortunately was a tiger. A very very....very attractive tiger.

With a sigh you pull the top around your body, a lilac mesh puffed sleeve thing, and throw on a pair of loose jeans as to complete it. To top it off, you put on a flower crown, smiling shyly at your reflection in the mirror beside you. You go out the door, surprised to find someone already waiting for you, his face frustrated and his striped tail flicking back and forth, annoyed.

"Ah f- Doyoung you scared me!" You pouted and hit a hand against his chest, him not sparing you a wince or pained expression, instead laughing at your feeble attempts to hurt him.

"We're late Y/N, they already introduced the host, which by the way we all knew would be Jaehyun he's the MC of every event ever." He sassed, but you grabbed his hand and ran toward the venue a block away, which was still quite the run. Jaehyun stood on the stage in a black and red velvet suit, smiling as he talked about the upcoming ceremony and how it would play out. You settled into a spot between Doyoung and Donghyuck, a pudu hybrid who was too busy on his phone to mind you sitting next to him.

"Do you think he's nervous for his coronation?" Doyoung turned his head and you looked at him for a moment, your gaze flickering to the stage every now and then as Jaehyun spoke.

"Please, he's Seo Youngho. He's probably known about this since he was a child, and is ready for it. He's confident too so I don't think he'll have a problem with being shy either." You blushed as you spoke, your ears turning down against your head as you thought about it. Doyoung eyes you and smirked, laughing as he came to a realization.

"Oh my God you do like him. That's literally so cute. You realize he'd probably snap you in half in bed though, right?" He made the dirty comment and you went completely red, stuttering as you tried to come up with a response, until Haechan cut in.

"You guys missed his speech, they're about to crown him." You gasped lightly as you looked to the stage and sure enough Youngho's mother was holding the crown, finishing up her own speech, and there he stood. Well shit. His hair was parted and his bright yellow eyes scanned the crowd with a smile. Such a charismatic smile, and those lips were just sin themselves. His suit clung to his body and he was wearing a damned corset vest over it. You were staring for too long, and he caught your stares. He looked at you fondly and smiled, his eyes twinkling as he waved. You smiled back and waved enthusiastically, cheering as he was crowned and the celebratory party began. Doyoung was no where to be seen, and you were hoping to find some time to finally talk to Youngho. You made your way to the bar, where you were surprised to find he was already there standing, him gesturing for you to come over. You gulped and walked over, your tail stood up in alarm. He was there in front of you close up, and for the first time you noticed he was blushing. You went even redder than before and he giggled, his hands fumbling with the glass in between them.

"How can I help you?" You giggled nervously, settling against the bar as he still messed with his glass awkwardly, his tail swinging back and forth uneasily.

"You know the whole thing with mates and first touches? How you'll know when you first touch?" He asks and you go still, nodding and trying to ease your rising emotions. He looked into your eyes and his hand extended.

"I need to know...if you'd allow me." He spoke again and you could feel the nerves radiating off of him. His eyes searched yours and you smiled back, your cheeks burning.

"I'd like to know too." And then you did it. You laced your fingers together, and a spark ricocheted from your fingertips to your toes and you gasped as a thousand emotions passed through you at once. His eyes glossed over and he pulled you into his arms.

"I always fucking knew it was you. Now so can tell Jaehyun I was rightfully obsessed." He joked as he sniffled, and you laughed wetly as some tears fell, burying your face in his chest. You heard a whistle and Doyoung stood there, a drink in his hands and finger guns pointed at both of you. You went to smack him but a dull ache in your underbelly stopped you, biting your lip as you settled for glaring at him, your tail and ears still moving angrily.

"It's not like I totally knew this whole time." He sassed and you smacked his chest, your cheeks turning red. Doyoung smirked and blocked your attacks, turning to Youngho, whose nose was turned into the air, curiously sniffing. He whispered into Youngho's ear and Youngho's eyes darkened with an emotion you could only describe as lust, his gaze falling up and down your body. You turned to Doyoung in confusion but he just pushed you toward Youngho, who ran an arm up and down your own. You shivered at his touch and keened into it, your body beginning to sweat feverishly.

Authors note: for the smut I changed the time-tense without realizing so sorry about that.

"Follow me? There's something I'd like to tell you." Youngho smiles and you nod, skipping along with him away from the celebration. It's only a ways away, his den, and you blush as your thoughts race with images of you and him together, your pulse seemingly moving to in between your legs. He invites you in and closes the door, suddenly against you. You yelp in surprise and he buries his head against your hair, sniffing down your body. You clench your legs together as his nose presses against your thighs and breasts and his scent runs through your own nose, your body immediately reacting.

"I wanted to tell you that your scent right now...it's sweeter than usual. Oh God you're in heat aren't you?" He practically growls the words and you whimper as you nod, your core throbbing with need as his body pressed against you.

"Please Youngho I need something." You whine against him as your hands rake at his neck, pulling him into a kiss. It's slippery and your tongue circles his fangs as he holds your hips in his hands and sucks on your lower lip, pulling away to put his forehead against yours.

"Johnny. Call me Johnny, baby." You wiggle impatiently against him and he picks you up, your body already bucking towards him as your core tightens around nothing. To best describe, it's a burning feeling, like every synapse in your brain is screaming at you to get something, anything.

"Such a needy girl, you're falling apart in my hands and I haven't even began to touch you." He kisses you and you're only just aware that you're pressed against the doorframe of what you can only assume is his room.

"Johnny, please take my clothes off. It's too hot." You pant breathlessly and he laughs, elated to get you out of your clothing, his ears up and at attention. His claws trail the fabric of your top, pulling roughly upward. You raise your arms and the top comes off with a swift motion, leaving your bra in it's place. You blush under his gaze, a hungry stare that makes its way to your pussy, the ache becoming more. You tug at his corset vest and he pulls it off and his dress shirt as quick as he did your own shirt, his abs on display. You ogle at his stripesnand press your hands against his chest as he attacks the side of your neck with his mouth, his tongue and teeth marking every surface area of your skin.

"Do you have any idea how good you smell right now?" He swipes his hand against your denim covered core, and you whine as you grind into his touch. With the sharp nail of his ring finger, he separates the metal from it's buttonhole and pulls your pants down. You step out of them and he scoops you up as soon as your feet hit the floor, pushing you against the bed. You gasp and moan as his fingers trail your sides, his claws leaving marks against your skin. The pain is nice though, and it drives you crazy with how gentle he scratches you.

"Johnny, I want you to...well won't your claws hurt?" You trail off in embarrassment and he presses his lips onto yours, staring fondly into your eyes as his arms cradle you.

"Don't worry baby, they retract. I would never hurt you. But fuck, was that the cutest way you could ask me to finger you." He speaks gently, a growl ripping from his throat as he presses his mouth back onto your own. You moan against his lips as his hands pull your bra off, his kisses trailing down as your breasts spill from your bra, which he quickly tosses aside. His hand, with claws now retreated into the nail beds, rubs you through your panties. He's amazed with how wet you are, your underwear almost sticks to you with how wet you are, and your small tail stands stiffly despite being laid on. Looking at you as he presses his nose against your breasts, licking the middle of your chest and teething against your skin. His fingers hook under your panties and he revels in how warm you are, pressing the heel of his palm to the very top of your entrance. Johnny begins to circle his fingers around your clit, as you shake under him. With one hand busy teasing you, the other kneads the flesh of your left tit, whines and moans spilling past your lips. You press your own palm against his cock, which strains against his slacks. He makes a guttural sound as you rub at the head through the cloth. He pulls his hand away and growls at you, and you suddenly feel so much smaller. So dominated.

"I have a new idea baby. You smell so good but I bet you taste even better." Without warning his nose presses into the very top of your panties, his fangs nipping at the cloth. You yelp in surprise and shudder as his tongue swipes across your panties, moans leaving your mouth as you bite down on nothing. Johnny gives a satisfied moan himself and peels your panties away from your body and down your legs, tossing them haphazardly as he sniffled once more, the tip of his nose brushing against your clitoral hood. Whimpering, you spread your legs shyly and he takes it as invitation, his mouth wrapping around your pussy as his tongue prods against your hole, which throbs for his touch. His tongue was long, you knew this from just his smile and him talking, but you weren't prepared for how helpful it would be until now. Johnny's tongue works against your clit, kitten licking as his one of his fingers comes up and separates your lips, his tongue picking up speed. You're a mess of moans and whines, your eyes looking reverently toward him as he tongue fucked you with determination and his finger enters you to the knuckle. You wince once, but the feeling is immediately replaced with curiosity. He brings his finger out and back, until he's created a pace that has you keening for more. He curls his finger and rubs against a spongy surface within you that you never realized felt so good. You arch away from the bed and sigh out breathlessly, a mewl wheezing out of you. Johnny sees this and knows he's found it, propping both of you into a better position. You lay on his left thigh, one arm supports you and the other is busied between your legs. He returns his middle finger to where it once was, curling in and out of you at the same pace before. Soon his ring finger too prods at your entrance and he ducks you with both of them, your hips bucking against his wrist. A pressure in your lower abdomen makes you bite your lip, gasping when Johnny curls his fingers and once again hits your g-spot. He prods at it for a little while more, but stops before you can fully come undone. Kicking his slacks off, he returns to you and hovers over your body, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You can feel his tail swipe against your legs as he speaks.

"I want to fuck you properly, but I need to know if you're okay with it. I'm...well endowed and don't want to hurt you." Your heart swells at his words and you nod as you bite your lip, wrapping your legs around his waist.

"My heat has made me slick enough and you've stretched me. I feel safe enough for it. Now please, fuck me." You take a deep breath as you look down between your legs at him, and he wasn't lying. It's harder than a rock, standing against his stomach with a bead of precum sliding down the side of it. He's cut, which you can't say didn't surprise you, and it definitely has girth to it. Perhaps it is five or six inches soft, but hard it looks to be seven inches. He pulls your hips closer to his and massages your sides as he positions himself.

"Be gentle with me? This isn't my first time but you're bigger than I'm used to." You blush embarrassed but he nods, pressing into you slowly. You grunt painfully as you're stretched, the tip of his cock almost touching your cervix, but not close enough to fully make contact. Johnny bends down towards you and kisses you hungrily, his tongue curling around your own.

"You can move now." You say quickly as you pull away from the kiss, and he feels his hips back, before pushing in again. You moan louder than you ever have, his cock prodding against every surface of your pussy, making you feel so full. Both of your bodies rock together and he growls out a low moan, gasping breathlessly with you as you both make noises as if no one can hear. Your arms wrap around him and scratch, your mewls bouncing off the walls of his room and the bed creaking back and forth.

"Fucking hell." He moans as he sighs out, his hips snapping into yours. You're close to tears with how good you feel, and those tears finally spill over when his fingers circles your swollen clit, his dick still sliding in and out of you.

"F-fuck cum in me Johnny. Please." You please as you cry from overstimulation, all your senses going haywire as you feel the beginnings of climax take you. Johnny bites into your shoulder as he fucks you, and you cry out in pain as his fangs break through the flesh of your shoulder. You quickly moan as he picks at the wound, breathless apologies spilling from his mouth. You kiss him to shut him up, and he happily kisses back. The coil in your underbelly becomes taut and you keen away from the bed and into him. It snaps suddenly and you're clenching down on him hard, practically screaming as your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave. You're shaking, but you ignore it as you use your legs to pull Johnny closer, deeper into you. He rubs soothing circles with his thumb against your cheek as he cradles your face, his orgasm nearing. His thrusts are becoming sloppier and your name is spilling from his mouth with other curses and gibberish.

"Are you sure you want me to cum in you Y/N?" Johnny falters and you pull him in for a kiss, biting his lower lip and waving your tail side to side.

"Please." You whimper and he bottoms out, a couple more thrusts before he is burying his face into your neck with broken moans spilling past his lips. Warm cum seeps into you, and he's making the sexiest noises you've heard come from a man. Johnny's forehead knocks against your own and he removes his cock from your womanhood, slumping against the covers and next to you. Both of you say nothing, catching your breaths as both your chest heave up and down. His arms wrap around you and pull you in, a small peck pressed everywhere over your face. One of his hands pets at your tail soothingly and you use your own hand to scratch behind his ears as you both become more and more relaxed. Your eyes are closing, but before you sleep you kiss him again and thank him.

"Thanks for being the best mate a girl could ask for." Your ears fall flat against your head as you blush and he chuckles, kissing your forehead.

"Same goes to you. I'd wish for no one else." And he pulls you closer, both of you tangled. And just like that you sleep, ready to tackle your heat again in the morning.

AHHH sorry I don't know how to end smuts but this is the first thing I've written in a while so please tell me if there were mistakes. but here you go!!!

#johnny suh #kpop imagines #johnny seo #nct smut #nct x reader #youngho x reader #johnny x reader #nct reactions #seo youngho #nct u #nct 127

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missskzbiased · 4 years ago

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I Hate That I’m Afraid to Love You (3)

Genre: Romance, Friendship, Angst, Hurt /Confort , Suggestive, Fluff College Au, Enemies to Friends to Lovers Au, REALLY Slow burn, Love Square (?)

Pairing: Hyunjin X Fem!Reader X Han X OC

WC: ~ 5,0K

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Masterlist

Warnings (general*): Language, Mentions of (Physical abuse, Death/ Loss of Loved One, Child Abandonment/Neglect, Divorce, Toxic Parents, Cancer, Mental disorder, Anxiety Attack)

Notes: I hope you guys like it. Chapter 2’s tags didn’t work TT.TT so I hope this time the tags works… *Sigh* Anyway! This and the next 2 chapters will have more of an angsty feeling to them. If you guys feel that I should put a warning or something like this, please let me know! [Although I think I listed everything on the general warnings]

I’m opened to any feedback! It’s my first fic like this so I know I have a lot to learn yet. Any tips or suggestions are welcomed!

REMINDER: I’m neither a psychologist nor a psychology student.

The next chapters will have some things related to psychology BUT IT’S ALL FROM MY MIND. Please don’t consider it as something a therapist would say.

Also, don’t consider it as a good way to handle any mental illness.

Just as a note, the MC will realize she needs therapy at some point [~chap10], so I’m not trying to show friendship, love or whatever as the solution to mental illness [Though those kind of things can help you out, consider doing therapy if it’s possible]

Updates: I’ll update it once a week [Tuesdays] because I still have to write the chapters to come and review the ones I already wrote

////

If you knew all it took to get Hyunjin’s head out of his ass was confront him, you would have done it way too sooner.

You knew you got on his nerve when he came into the classroom without sparing you a glance, his usual mocking self nowhere to be seen. He walked straight ahead to his seat, gliding, his chin slightly upraised as if he felt like a royal member himself, lips quirked up in a carefree way that you knew he was feigning. You shouldn’t feel too good about it, but you felt it anyway.

Paris noticed something was wrong, her eyes following him amazed, noticing he didn’t try to flirt or tease you at all.

“Is it just me or he just ignored you?” She asked surprised, her eyes glued to him even when he was already settled on his seat “He didn’t even look here!” Her eyes shot at you, mischievous “What did you do?” she grinned devilishly.

“Nothing” You shrugged, struggling to keep your smirk off of your face.

You always said you didn’t really hate Hyunjin and you meant it, but it didn’t mean you were anywhere near to be fond of him in any way. You knew you were being petty and childish, but you couldn’t help it. You weren’t obliged to put up with his guts! He had this infuriating aura around him like he was some kind of god, and it just upsets you to the point you wanted to punch him sometimes. He did nothing wrong, but that was exactly the issue! You hated these kinda movies that pictured the male lead as a perfect little thing that could do all he wanted because he was just amazing... People like this didn’t exist.

Except that he almost fit that image.

Now, you weren’t saying he was perfect! He was way too far from that if your opinion had any importance at all. The thing is that he is rich. Okay... But being rich is enough to make you hostile towards someone? Well, it is when this someone doesn’t put a damn effort into anything and you have to work your ass off to get the same results as him. So maybe you were envious? Yeah, maybe. Whatever. You felt wronged when you knew you had to be all work and no play while he could play whenever he wants because he was blessed with a good family.

It was infuriating.

Of course, you would be able to get good scores at everything without putting any effort into it if you were tutored back in high school like he was... Of course, you would be able to look charismatic and sassy if you had the time to sleep after your work, instead of studying your ass off so you could keep up your grades and your scholarship... Of course, you would be able to have fun and be relaxed, hence being able to absorb all the information your professors spat out if you didn’t have to live up to everyone’s expectations! And, of course, you would be able to have a good relationship with the university if you were a hell out of a rich girl that could give your damn money to the university and get on everyone’s good side.

So maybe it wasn’t Hyunjin’s fault to be able to do things you couldn’t do even if you worked your fingers to the bone... But he and his shitty personality didn’t help his case at all. Maybe if he was a kind guy or something like this, but he was an asshole! He knew how you hated all those things about him, and he would still rub it to your face. He got off on the fact you were miserable compared to him! Every time he could bring up how he was better than you in every aspect (which he wasn’t, really!), he would. Every time he could show you how the professors got on his side just because, he would. Every time he could do something that made you pissed off, he would.

So maybe it wasn’t Hyunjin’s fault he had everything you worked for.

But his good for nothing personality was solely his fault.

And you would hold on it for your dear life.

“Y/N, could you refresh my memory? What was your feeling’s choice?” Your professor, Mr.Lee, asked in a quiet tone before scratching his white beard, his eyes focused on yours, analyzing your every move. It was kind of invasive every time he looked at you as if he could see your soul, and you wondered if someday you would be like him.

“It was Hate, sir” You answered firmly, your eyes sharp as a knife when you returned his gaze.

“Would you care to enlighten us about your choice? Is it too personal?” He asked in a kind tone, letting it be your call. You didn’t understand why he was beating around the bush like this, but you shrugged it off.

“As I said last week, sir, I think hate can move people to do dreadful things without thinking about the consequences… I believe nothing can beat hate. Not time. Not love” You looked in Paris’ way with an apologetic smile “I guess I made my point clear enough last time” You added, a tight smile on your lips.

“Yes. Yes, You did… I remember a lot of raising hands to agree with your plea” He acknowledged, his eyes darting to Hyunjin this time “And you, Hyunjin? I believe your answer was also quite defended last Friday” He encouraged. Hyunjin looked back at him, still averting his eyes from you at all costs.

Your smirk made its way to your lips as you felt superiority’s sweet taste.

“Yes, it was, sir” He agreed. Even though he didn’t feel like talking to you and seemed… Tense, his voice still hung that endearing power he had, getting everyone’s attention as he opened his mouth to repeat what he said before “Fear is clearly stronger than Hate as it can paralyze people, make them give up on everything… If hate makes you do things you regret, fear also makes you regret things you can’t do” He seemed off as he spoke it, his eyes too focused, his jaw clenched slightly… His arguments got better too, maybe he thought about it since Friday?

Probably not.

“And I believe no one could agree with Paris, since the classes ended in the best part of our discussion! Paris had a good argument, though, and I happened to hear from Hyunjin himself, that it beat his own” He sang, Paris chirped excitedly, making you chuckle “If any of you were too hungry and lost to remember, she said Love was the strongest feeling because it could beat any other… You could beat fear and hate with it, you could do something out of love or sacrifice yourself by not doing something in the name of love…” His voice hung there, purposely pulling an imaginary string, getting everyone attention as he looked around, the cliffhanger being too hard to ignore.

“So who was right?” You heard someone asks from the back, your eyes glued to your professor’s smirk as you waited, your breathing withhold on your chest, hoping you could be the one to be right, or at least Paris…

“No one and every one of them” He announced, proudly. It was needless to say all the holding breaths came out as disappointed sighs, an unknown winner standing for the title you would never get “This exercise isn’t about who is right or wrong… There is no such thing as the most powerful feeling! Every single feeling has a full meaning for that one person that holds it” You rolled your eyes, thinking about how Mr.Lee could be such a good professor and such a bad one. He was bullshitting all of you, and to speak of which—

“That’s bullshit!” A girl uttered in the front row “Are you saying a patient in love is the same as a patient who wants to kill themselves?! Someone who hates themselves so much they want to be dead… You can’t say it’s not as powerful as some lovesick bast—I mean, person” Okay, so maybe that girl had some hate issues? You saw his eyes lit up as if he was expecting a tantrum.

“You can’t see a patient who hates himself and say he’s more important than that one fearing something to the point he can’t even get away from his own house… Nor say the one who’s healing themselves with love ─ this being self-love or someone else’s love ─ isn’t as important as your other patient… Every single human being is a full universe, and a good professional has to be able to see it clearly! The most important feeling to you may not be the most important feeling to this patient, you have to think ahead of yourself” He smiled at the end of his speech, clearly proud of the marveled looks on your face.

You thought it was kinda cute how he stood there giving these same classes probably for… twenty? Thirty years? And still got so excited to see how all of you would react. You let a smile flicker over your face, and you felt Paris beam at your side ─probably relating it with music in her head─ but Hyunjin wasn’t so impressed, raising his hand promptly, getting a nod from Mr.Lee who was giving him the word.

“What did you make us suggest them for? If the whole point was to make us understand every feeling matters, I can’t understand why we lost one day debating it” You turned your head from Hyunjin to Mr.Lee, expecting what kind of answer he would give.

He grinned again, glad things were going on his way.

“That’s a great question” He agreed “The thing is, my fellow students, you guys tend to state the most important feeling to you… I think it should be no surprise that you are all adults struggling with things along your way, and by this simple debate, I can tell you, Mr.Hyunjin, struggle with a great fear of something… I can tell Ms.Paris healed herself with great love… If you want me to be more specific, I do remember her statement about love being protective, and her examples were about a mother protecting her child and a soldier… Would I be wrong if I guess your mom’s love moved her to do great things to protect you from something really dangerous, Ms.Paris? Perhaps something as violent as a war?” Holy shit! You felt as you were on a ‘Now You See Me’ movie, all hidden things getting a spotlight right in front of you.

“No, sir! You would be totally right!” She agreed blissfully, getting a humming from him.

“I thought so too” He joked, laughing to himself “Do you have any more questions, Mr.Hyunjin?” His voice held this knowing tone when you just knew you have nailed it.

You felt the urge to clap, excited at all this.

Then you felt the urge to hide.

You struggled with hate, and now it was unfolded there for anyone who wanted to see it.

You couldn’t focus on your classes anymore, your mind wandering around some stuff you didn’t really want to remember right now, your childhood unfolding there like a really long movie that you didn’t want to watch at all. Paris seemed to notice your absentminded self, her hand resting on top of yours, reassuringly squeezing your own before you smiled weakly at her, the soft contact dragging you out of your thoughts.

“I’m fine” You guaranteed, receiving a nod as a response.

Her hand never left yours though.

There are times, such as this, your mind just gets numb.

It’s almost like a TV snowing, the soft noise sounding like numbness at the back of your mind, nothing really getting there, even though your eyes were opened and looking straight ahead, you didn’t take in any images. You weren’t quite sure what was on your mind when the loud alarm sounded through your brain, getting you startled, your eyes snapping back to whatever was happening in front of you: A sea of students wiping their stuff into their bags and scattering around. You looked around, confused when you finally noticed the class had ended.

How long were you thinking? Were you even thinking? What was Mr.Lee saying?

You sighed heavily, looking at the blank pages on your notebook, and you could almost feel like he stared back at you, disappointed. Paris rested her hand on your shoulder, burying your head with a worried look that made you say the first thing coming across your head “Classes ended already”, Oh, well… That was a poor statement… You got a sympathetically look as an answer, “Han must be almost here, we should get ready” You added, a more useful wording this time, getting your stuff and standing up, your hand finally away from hers.

She got up as well, letting you go just like this. You couldn’t be more grateful for her understanding right now. You merged into the crowd getting out of the class, taking short steps and stretching your neck, trying to get air and have a vision around, searching for Han in the hallways. As soon as you got out, you felt a hand grab your wrist, pulling you to the sides, colliding with a warm chest that made you frown annoyed, glaring at the boy who turned out to be Han himself.

“Are you blind?” He laughed, ruffling your hair, getting a chuckle from Paris.

“No, you’re just too small” You mocked, his whining making you and Paris laugh. The three of you made your way through the crowded hallways, heading to the dining hall, ready to eat whatever was being served there. You looked around the Quad, expecting to see Chan there waiting for Hyunjin and wave at him, since you knew they both use to have lunch together on Tuesdays.

What you didn’t expect was to catch a glance at an odd woman, her flashy fashion getting your attention immediately and making you feel dizzy.

You would bet you were pale as a ghost.

“Hey, are you okay?” You heard Han ask, glancing over the area you were staring “You seem kinda… Off” He stated worried, getting Paris attention as well, making her stop her blabbering about today’s class and look at you concerned.

“I’m just hungry” You uttered, looking at them with a tight smile “Let’s go quickly before I pass out” You said hurriedly, pulling them by their wrists, eager to get out of there.

They let you hurry them, exchanging a look before shrugging it off.

////

You felt your heart slamming on your chest, your lungs seeming too small to handle your need for air. Although you weren’t running for real, your steps were quick and wide, your head swivels as you tried to find Chan on campus, your legs burning as you walked fast and your neck hurting to move around searching for him. You felt a hand on your shoulder, grabbing it with much more strength than needed, and you shut your eyes closed, defeat washing over you.

“Holy shit, where were you?!” Chan’s voice sounded alarmed and your disappointment switched to relief.

“Oh, thank god!” You chirped, turning around and hugging him out of reflex “Where were you?! Did you see her?” You asked worried, his face giving all the answers you needed “Is it bad?” Your voice sounded weak even to your ears, thin and trembling.

Fragile.

“It’s… Well, it’s not good” He mused, averting his eyes “It could be worst I guess… She wants to talk to you” He explained, his hand squeezing your shoulder “I told her I would ask you to meet her at the yard… It was the least crowded place I could think of… ” He sighed, looking tired; he must have been worried, running around like this just to find you “Where the hell is your phone? Why can’t you pick up my call, woman” He complained, trying to light up the mood, but you couldn’t find his teasing amusing right now.

“I forgot it at the dorm… I will pick it up later, before work” You answered, kinda absent-minded, your mind wandering around a hundred thoughts at the same time, your breathing starting to falter. You felt his arms wrapping you up, embracing you tightly and soothing something on your ear as he stroke your hair gently, his sudden touch getting your attention back to him “Thank you” You muttered against his chest, clearing your throat before pushing him away gently “Lord, stop being cheesy” You joked, making him scoff in disbelief.

“I run around this damn place because you can’t take your phone with you like a grown-up ass and you call me cheesy?” He snorted, feigning to be hurt as his hand rose to his chest “I even ditched Hyunjin for you…” He added, swiping imaginary tears as he looked at you.

“Hyunjin was with you?” You asked exhausted “Great… Did she say anything in front of him?” He was quick to shake his head, denying, and you let a relieved sigh “Well, that’s good then”

“I asked him to wait where we were, guided your mom, and came for you… I don’t think he connected the dots yet, although he will ask about it for sure” He explained briefly and you nodded in response “I think you should go talk to her before she comes back” He reasoned, and you nodded in agreement, squeezing his shoulder in silent gratefulness before smiling gently at him, getting a small smile back.

If you had one thing in this world you could always count on it would be Chan.

You picked up your pace, trying to reach the yard as fast as possible, using all your strength to gather your thoughts together; worry washing over you as you got closer to your destination. You couldn’t be distracted; you had to keep calm, to be understanding, to be focused. As soon as your eyes landed on her, you felt your heart pang. She was beautiful, of course, her blond dyed hair suited her well, and her sunglasses matched well her style, the flowery dress giving a girly and young vibe to her.

How long had it been since you saw her like this?

She seemed to notice you, taking her glasses off and flashing you a bright smile, getting up from the bench she was sitting on, and coming to meet you halfway. You looked around, checking for people you knew, before sighing in relief as you made sure the yard was indeed pretty vacant, just like Chan predicted, and opened your arms so she could hug you like she made mention to do.

“Long time no see!” She chirped, hugging you tightly, and you seized the moment for a bit, her warm embrace making you smile homesickly “You never come back home! We miss you” There was it. You nodded, not really agreeing with her, and broke away from her, a tight smile adorning your lips.

“Yeah… We just have a lot to do here” You lied “How is it back home? Why are you here?” You asked genuinely curious. She shrugged, grabbing your wrist and guiding you to the bench she was sitting before, sitting down and patting it so you would do the same.

“I think I will get back with your father” She beamed “He’s in love with me! I wanted you to be the first one to know” You closed your eyes, sighing before you opened them again, looking straight into hers. She looked exactly as you remembered in your childhood… Delusional.

“Mom, he doesn’t love you…” You said cautiously, searching for any signs of rage on her face, but all you got for an answer was a scoff “He abandoned you, mom… He’s back now, but he doesn’t love you… Please, don’t make a big deal out of it” You pleaded, but now her disgust was plastered all around her face.

“You were always like this… You never loved him!” She uttered, her voice rising just for a bit, but it made your heart race anyway, afraid she could get out of control “That was exactly why he left us!” She added, her rage made you shrink your shoulders, your eyes unconsciously scanning around to see if anyone was looking, shame imbuing every part of your body.

“I wasn’t the reason he left” You muttered, her gasp getting your attention again, her eyes accusing you silently.

“Are you saying I was the reason he left us?” She asked, hatred dripping from her words.

Yes.

“No, of course not!” You rushed to say, your lie tasting bitter on your throat, the dry gulp inevitable “We’re not to blame… It was his own fault” You reassured her, your hand making its way to her shoulder before she swapped it away, huffing.

“You’re unbelievable” She snickered “He came back for me, he has been with me for three years! You can’t understand how much he loves me! How much we belong together!” Her voice was loud now, and you were sure anyone who happened to go through the yard would be watching you “He loved you, Y/N… He even had your photo! Did you know that? He had that tiny photo of you… He never stopped loving you, and you can’t be grateful for what you have!” You bit your lower lip, trying to stay calm, to be the responsible one.

Again.

“Are you taking your meds?” You asked tired, your back curved as if you had aged fifty years in this few minutes of talk “Is he giving you your meds?” You asked again, looking in her eyes. She looked at you like you were a bug annoying her, her brows frown as she leaned closer to your face.

“I don’t need the pills” She spat angrily, her eyes shooting yours “I can take care of myself! Look at me, I’m here, ain’t I? I came here by myself! I don’t need to be enclosed! I’m okay!” She got up from the bench, yelling at you. Finally, some people seemed to notice the commotion, and you could only avert your eyes…

You could handle it, you always did it.

“I can take care of myself just like I took care of you!”

No, you couldn’t.

“I took care of you” You uttered, your eyes burying in hers “Do you know who didn’t take care of you?! Who didn’t take care of me?!” You yelled back, angry “Him! He didn’t take care of you! He didn’t love you! He doesn’t love you now!” You got up from the bench as well, gesticulating widely as shame and anger mixed up on your guts, the solid presence of eyes fixed on you in the back of your head, fueling it.

Way to go, Y/N! Just what she needed right now!

You felt the sting on your cheek before you could process what happened.

“You don’t even see him at home, you know nothing” She spat, her hand still raised in the air, no signs of regret in her eyes. You felt the tears prickling, your hand trailing to your face slowly before caressing the hot skin, the pain in your chest deeper than what you felt on your face. You didn’t dare to look around, to check people’s reaction, so you just stood there, looking her in the eyes as your vision blurred.

“Oh my god” You heard a male voice, startled.

You could recognize it even if you didn’t hear it for three whole years, even if before that you haven’t heard it for a whole ten years of your life… You could recognize it anywhere because it was his voice, the voice who answered you when you first learned to say daddy, the voice that soothed you before sleep, the voice who supported your mother through her depression, the voice that yelled at her when she was being a maniac, the voice that vanished from your life… That voice belonged to the one who had only one task… And failed it.

“Honey!” Your mother beamed; his eyes landed on her confused before turning to you. He was accompanied by a man in uniform, a Hospital logo on his chest that you promptly recognized as Chan’s family business, he walked over to your mother, guiding her away gently.

Of course, it was Chan, even when your father showed up to do something useful, it wasn’t his initiative.

“You suck” You said as you got closer to him, rage bubbling inside you “You just needed to take care of her… Can you do at least one thing right? Can you take care of anyone at all?” You asked exhausted, stopping right in front of him, your eyes held a disappointment that made him shrink.

“I’m giving it to her… I don’t know what is happening” He defended himself, making you scoff.

“Did you look under her tongue? Are you sure she’s taking it? Maybe, if you were there you would have known that she may hide the pills and sometimes refuses to take them…” You laughed humorlessly “It’s funny because I learned it at… ten years? And you don’t seem to learn anything at your forties or whatever!” You snorted, pissed off and bitter,”I should know something was wrong though… Her messages were different…“ You mused, drowning in your guilty.

“I tried to reach for you, but you didn’t pick up…I was hoping she would get better” He admitted and you could only roll your eyes, looking away before averting them back to him in a cold-steel glare.

“Yeah, because it’s my fault you can’t handle something that I handled just fine as a kid” You spat, disbelief in your eyes “I can see how invested you are in this” You gestured between yourselves, scoffing as he averted his eyes ashamed. You prepared to make your way to your room but as soon as you got past him, he turned around, calling you.

“I missed you” He muttered, making you spin on your heels.

“I bet you did” You smiled bitterly “You’re a professional at missing things… You missed a lot of them all this time, didn’t you? I bet you missed me so much! You missed my birthdays a lot!” You laughed bitterly, clasping your hands together and tilting your head “You missed my graduation… You missed all the therapy mom had to take because of you! You even missed the only thing you had to do to try to redeem yourself!” You scoffed, shaking your head in contempt “You missed a lot of things, dad… You’re twelve years too late to miss me now, though” You sighed, turning away from him and walking straight ahead to your dorm.

As you walked through the yard, heading to the dorms, you could only feel all of your emotions boiling up, tightening your chest, blocking your throat, and turning into tears before you shot your head up, a failed attempt to stop the tears falling down your face as you walked. People didn’t seem to mind your crying though, as you should have expected, since college students were fated to cry about their terms, essays, and all of the troubles college brought to their lives. You could only feel relief as you lowered your head and quickened your pace, people ignoring you.

As soon as you opened your door, slamming it open in your stupor, you regretted your crying, and your poor choice of place to go, watching as Han and Paris widened their eyes at you, startled by your state. You closed the door behind you, closing your eyes and clearing your throat, your hands hurriedly wiping your tears away before you turned around to look at them with a clearly fake smile that you knew that looked more like a grimace.

“Sorry for interrupting” You said, voice almost steady “I… Will be in my room” You added, fast walking.

“I think you should go…” You heard Paris telling him “Y/N, come here, let’s talk” She pleaded. You heard both of them getting up from the couch. You locked your door right after you got to your room and sat on the floor, head burying in your knees as you hugged them. You heard a door opening, probably Han going away, and as soon Paris knocked on your door you started to cry again.

“I saw them again… She came to talk to me” You blurted, trying to say something coherent but failing it “She said he loves her… She said it’s my fault they got away from each other… She slapped me…” You sobbed now and then, and even though you tried to explain the situation you Knew Paris must feel lost there, not knowing what to say “He said he missed me… I fought with him again, Paris… I’m just like him! I will abandon everyone around me…” You cried hard this time, trying to recompose yourself miserably, grabbing your ears and swinging back and forth, trying to calm down.

As you hushed yourself, you missed the door closing with a loud bang.

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write-a-bad-romance · 4 years ago

Text

Two Hares Running Side by Side [Part I]

Characters: Jean d’Arc, Napoleon Bonaparte, Sebastian, Comte de Saint-Germain, minor characters adapted from historical figures

Pairings: Napoleon x MC, Napoleon x Jean, Sebastian x Saint-Germain (main)

Words: 2939

Their first encounter was twelve years ago, in a training and recruitment camp in the east.

It was a slow and uneventful afternoon. Leon yawned as he watched sons and young fathers line up at the administration table, each of them carrying a conscription letter with their respective names.

The prolonged war had taken too many of their older, more capable men. Leon snorted at the sight of snot-faced, butterfingered lads not even old enough to venture far from their parents' farm.

Nothing had been amiss until he heard his sergeant, Sebastian, arguing with some country boy.

The boy was about his height, clearly younger by a good four years and too ethereally pretty to join the army. His expression was nonchalant, and Leon noted the same lack of enthusiasm in his baritone voice.

"The letter clearly called for Jacques d'Arc, a veteran. You are clearly not him. What's your name, boy?" Sebastian inquired. The word "boy" did not suit his actual, affable demeanor in the slightest.

"Jean d'Arc, Sir. I've come in my elderly father's place as my brothers are unsuitable to partake on the journey to camp," The boy explained levelly. "I just turned seventeen this summer, Sir."

Leo stared at the pale boy. Broad shoulders, a sharp contrast to his ridiculously modest waist, and long legs leaner than an average man's.

If this was what a farm boy was supposed to look like, Leon wasn't impressed. They were drafting soldiers to fight off the goddamned Holy Roman Empire, not chevalier servants for a house of pleasures.

Napoleon's patience grew thin. He disappeared between the encampment's gates, not bothering to see the end of Sebastian's quarrel with the dispassionate recruit.

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The haughty farmboy turned out to be one of his cadets in the artillery.

He wasn't half-bad, Leon supposed. The boy was clearly a quick study and obedient, to boot. Somewhat distant from his fellow trainees, but still handy nonetheless.

D'Arc clearly preferred the company of horses, as Leon came to learn when he found the latter loitering around the stables. The unwitting boy was gingerly brushing Leon's beloved mare, Angé.

Napoleon cleared his throat. "You do know it's my horse you're brushing, don't you, soldier?"

Jean d'Arc started at the sound of Leon's voice. Even so, he didn't stutter. "Forgive me. I hadn't been aware."

But Napoleon signaled him to stay at ease, seeing how easily Angé leaned into his touch. No doubt a skill he brought from home.

"I couldn't resist approaching such a magnificent horse," d'Arc spoke to Leon's surprise. "Such a gentle steed."

“Tame” wasn't the right word Leon would use when describing Angé, especially not regarding how she'd usually react to new faces. "Did you bribe her with a carrot?"

Leon was joking, but Jean answered him like his entire month's salary depended on his answer. "No, sir. It was an apple I offered instead. Although this time, I had been meaning to give her a carrot." The dark-haired youth answered, holding out a spindly carrot for Leon to inspect.

Napoleon couldn't help but chuckle. "I hope you didn't steal that from the kitchen."

"No, sir. I procured this out of my own pocket." Jean replied earnestly as if the dark brown mare wasn't trying to chew on his uniform shoulder.

It was dangerous for Napoleon to allow himself to laugh. There was no stopping him once he laughed, Sebastian once said. In the end, Leon only smirked and turned to exit the stables. "If I had known you were this skillful at handling horses, I would have turned you over to Cavalry instead."

There was a solemn glint in d'Arc's eyes, one Napoleon couldn't find in himself to ridicule.

"I enjoy being in the artillery, sir." Sharp, once-glazed iolite eyes held Leon's gaze. "There is so much I have yet to learn."

And master, Leon wanted to add. Given time and the opportunity, it's intelligent men like d'Arc who were quick to advance in the military.

"Is that so? Good to hear." Leon replied, just as sincere. "We're glad to have you."

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True to Leon's word, d'Arc scaled the ranks in no time. He was promoted to Sergeant Major, just as Leon himself rose to Second Lieutenant.

It had been a snowy night when Leon and the now-Adjutant Sebastian were making their way to their temporary base, located not too far from the town’s business district. The streets were relatively quiet, save for the distant jeers and shouts of soldiers making merry in brightly lit taverns.

The lanterns reminded Leon of Paris, of home. Of the face of his mother and siblings.

And of his fiancé with strawberry blonde locks, who is no doubt currently enjoying the holidays with her family, waiting for him to arrive home.

"Everybody seems quite spirited, aren't they?" Sebastian smiled fondly. "I mean, literally.

Napoleon didn't answer. He was too absorbed watching black figures dance on the light pouring from the door of a tavern. They reminded him of a shadow play he watched once in Paris with his fiancé

Which meant he was caught off guard when a body was flung to his side from the open door. He struggled to maintain his footing as he propped the other man.

Only to be met by a familiar face, now flushed red from drinking.

"D'Arc!" Leon exclaimed, "You frightened me! Are you alright, man?"

Judging from the sweat clinging to his skin (despite it being midwinter) and his vehement groans, it became evident that d'Arc was far from alright.

They were soon joined by d'Arc's friends: fellow officers whom Leon quickly recognized as the three young nobles who constantly hung around the farm boy for some reason.

"Jean! Where are you— ack, Second Lieutenant Bonaparte! Forgive us! We didn't mean to—" One of the lads shrieked. What was his name? d'Alencon? "See, see? This is why we shouldn't have forced him to drink!"

Leon glared at his subordinates. "You made your friend overdrink?! Why?"

Sebastian glanced back-and-forth anxiously as a burly man with raven hair stepped forward. "We didn't mean to, sir. D'Arc's birthday is approaching, and we thought about celebrating since we may not be able to get off camp by then." He explained.

"D'arc birthday? Oof!" Leon grunted as he felt Jean slipping from his side and onto the cobblestones. "That is still no reason to make your friend this intoxicated. If this were the barracks, I'd have all of you thrown out and never mind your parents!" he barked.

D'Alencon piped up. "It was a small pint, sir. Jean went down immediately after that one shot."

Leon's bewilderment was cut short as he felt d'Arc's breath caressing the side of his exposed neck. The Second Lieutenant nearly yelped and threw d’Arc off if it wasn’t for the vice-like grip on his waist.

"If you'd allow us, sir." Another dark-haired youth approached to pry d'Arc off Leon. "We'll take him back inside."

But d'Arc's iron hold on Leon proved too much for both men (three, as Sebastian rushed to their aid). Napoleon let out a defeated laugh as d'Arc only clung tighter to his victim.

Sebastian eyed Napoleon with a look that said well, he's your problem now.

The unconscious d' Arc somehow managed to climb even higher and grunted audibly against Leon's ear. The sound sent shivers down Leon's spine.

"So, what do we do now?" d'Alencon asked.

"Get him to the base," Leon breathed laboriously. "Let Saint-Germain treat him."

It was overkill for a drunk soldier, but d'Arc was no ordinary drunk. Leon feared the inebriated youth might get himself into trouble if they let him loiter outside the base

And, God forbid, do something that will besmirch their corps' name.

Leon looped one of d'Arc's arms behind his neck as he held the sergeant-major's ridiculously thin waist close. "Leave this to us. We're taking him back to the Doctor. Don't try anything else and report to me in the morning." He informed the officers, all of whom reacted differently: d'Alencon with wide panicked eyes, the tall, dark man who stayed silent (he was clearly drunk), and the quiet one, who regarded the commotion with well, silence.

"We'll take it from here then," Sebastian hurriedly added. "If you'll excuse us, gentlemen."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It didn't take long before the trio finally reached the base. By now, Leon had resorted to piggybacking d'Arc as the latter suddenly seemed to have lost every bone in his (surprisingly light body).

"Friends, they say." Leon heaved. "And they don't even accompany us back to base."

"There's not much to do at the base if they choose to return," Sebastian answered. "And they're still afraid of you."

"Me? Do I still come off as threatening?" Leon laughed. It felt like ages since he last barked orders on the field to the then-recruits. Now, they were officers with a third of his burden and responsibilities.

Someday, they'd be in his shoes too, growing older as the never ending war raged on. Ah, how time flew.

"Not as my long-time friend, no." Sebastian giggled. "You don't often show your friendlier side these days. Imagine your subordinate's shock if they found out you're a charismatic, passionate man who laughs, eats, and speaks as if every moment was a gift."

Napoleon smiled at the dove-haired man.

"So, like a normal man?" He chuckled. "You flatter me too much, Sebastian."

It was the increasing body count. It was the uncertainty one faced before heading off to battle, and not knowing whether it would be their remains that would be scattered across the fields the next minute.

"At least you're with me from the start, Sebastian. That's all I could ask,"

was all Napoleon could manage. It elicited a hearty laugh from his best friend.

"Save those words for your fiancé, Monsieur Bonaparte," Sebastian grinned. "You're making me fall for you all over again."

The Corsican grimaced, and both men continued their walk through the military complex, which was dead silent as a cemetery.

They managed to reach d'Arc's quarters, which he shared with d'Alencon after clambering through several corridors and a flight of stairs.

"You, get Saint-Germain or anybody else who's still around." Leon panted after he successfully hoisted d'Arc's body onto the bed. "Remember, time of the essence. No fooling around with the good doctor."

"Didn't expect you to say that," Sebastian grinned. "But you can count on me."

"Didn't expect you to say that," Sebastian grinned. "But you can count on me. I’ll be right back." And with that, he disappeared.

If he were shameless, Leon would have joined d'Arc on the bed beside him. But not even exhaustion could conquer the Corsican, and so Leon sat straight-legged by the foot of the bed.

D'Arc's side of the room was as bare as bones, Leon noticed. There was the Holy Book on the bedside drawer and a gold rosary, but not much else.

"I wonder what your family would think if they caught their good, Christian son drinking until he's plastered." Leon chuckled to himself. "You'd be in so much trouble."

Leon's idle hand groped around until he felt a piece of paper under his palm. Picking it up, he recognized it as a manual on newly produced cannon types, which he penned.

Around the illustrations and diagrams were d'Arc's chicken-foot scribbles, cramped next to each other until there was barely any space left on the paper.

Like his former fellow cadets, he too had grown.

Leon sighed and leaned against the bed, gazing at the ceiling. This year marked d'Arc's third New Year with the company. He was no longer the solitary boy hanging around the stables feeding Angé carrots. D'Arc was now a man with dozens of cannons under his command and his own soldiers to lead.

The war has yet to strip his innocence, Leon mused. There was a time when he wished farm boys like d'Arc remained boys, away from the dangers of shrapnels and enemy bayonets.

His thoughts were interrupted when he felt gloved hands coming to grope at the back of his head, the sides of his face. Was d'Arc awake?

"D'Arc." Leon turned. "You—"

He was cut off when he was suddenly knocked down towards the floor with full force. Leon's head was full of how and why he felt d'Arc's body slide down from the bed and cover his.

"D'Arc!" Leon shouted frantically. "Get off me! You're heavy, for heaven's sake!" But resistance was futile as d'Arc began to boldly crawl all over his prone form, the former's chest firmly pressing down on his back.

"K-keep still," The man on top of him slurred, his nose burrowing into Leon's hair. "Y-you're moving too much."

This idiot! Leon screamed internally. His energy had been wasted to the point where he couldn't just roll over and dislodge the other man. "You keep it together! You dared to tackle your Second Lieutenant, and now you're crushing him to death!"

Leon continued struggling against his predicament until he realized he had no more hope than a cockroach flipped on its back. In the end, he gave up and stopped thinking until slender fingers began to wander all over his neck and face.

Just like a banshee with her clawed hands. Leon sighed to himself.

Just when he thought nothing could surprise him anymore, d'Arc somehow had to whisper right next to his face, hot air grazing against the shell of Leon's ear.

"Pierre, 's that you?"

Leon's prior mortification faded. There was the smallest hint of a sob in d'Arc's otherwise unwavering voice.

"Pierre, 'm so sorry." D'Arc sniffled. "I went ahead without telling you."

Leon stilled. Who was Pierre? His brother? He remembered d'Arc mentioning male siblings who were unfit to enlist, so he went in their stead. Was this Pierre one of them?

"Dun want you to go," D'Arc continued. "Please...be happy with Émile."

Leon was an imaginative man, and he was convinced d'Arc had taken his brother's place as he had been newly married. It was easy to position himself in the situation. If he were d'Arc, he'd go in place of his brother too.

But his career in the military as a second was a given. What he didn't understand was why d'Arc would trade a peaceful life in the pastures for bloodshed.

It's not every day that a boy woke up and decided he was brave enough to kill a man. Or risk getting himself killed.

But none of it mattered as more words flowed out of the Sergeant Major's mouth.

His thoughts were interrupted when he felt gloved hands coming to grope at the back of his head, the sides of his face. Was d'Arc awake?

"D'Arc." Leon turned. "You—"

He was cut off when he was suddenly knocked down towards the floor with full force. Leon's head was full of how and why he felt d'Arc's body slide down from the bed and cover his.

"K-keep still," The man on top of him slurred, his nose burrowing into Leon's hair. "Y-you're moving too much."

Leon continued struggling against his predicament until he realized he had no more hope than a cockroach flipped on its back. In the end, he gave up and stopped to think until slender fingers began to wander all over his neck and face.

Just like a banshee with her clawed hands. Leon sighed.

Just when he thought nothing could surprise him anymore, d'Arc somehow had to whisper right next to his face, hot air grazing against the shell of Leon's ear.

"Pierre, 's that you?"

Leon's prior mortification faded. There was the smallest hint of a sob in d'Arc's otherwise unwavering voice.

"Pierre, 'm so sorry." D'Arc sniffled. "I went ahead without telling you."

Leon stilled. Who was Pierre? His brother? He remembered d'Arc mentioning male siblings who were unfit to enlist, so he went in their stead. Was this Pierre one of them?

"Dun want you to go," D'Arc continued. "Please...be happy with Émile."

But his career in the military as a second was a given. What he didn't understand was why d'Arc would trade a peaceful life in the pastures for bloodshed.

It's not every day that a boy woke up and decided he was brave enough to kill a man. Or risk getting himself killed.

In place of sobs spilling from his mouth, d'Arc's nose dug even deeper against the nape of Leon's neck. What worrying behavior, Leon thought. Other people will be sure to take this the wrong way.

"D'Arc? No, Jean?" Leon called softly, wondering if calling the soldier by his given name would work better. "Jean, I need you to—"

"Jehanne," d'Arc murmured.

"What?"

"It's Jehanne. Not Jean, not...d'Arc. Jehanne." D’Arc repeated as if his own name were a litany. The added syllable lent more personality to his unremarkable official name, given to a million men across the country.

And shaped a clearer image of Jean d'Arc as a whole, a person.

It wasn't much but enough to distinguish him from the lonely d'Arc who was no longer alone. And from the resigned beauty who seemed more at home on the distant moon than the lines of cannons and armed men.

God, Leon was starting to sound delirious. Even more than the actual drunk on his back.

"Excuse me, I believe someone requested medical help — oh dear, I didn't mean to interrupt!" a voice alerted Leon from his reflection. He noticed Saint-Germain by the door, followed by a disheveled Sebastian.

"Good evening, Doctor. You sure took your time coming here," Leon smirked. "Would you kindly free me from Sergeant Major d'Arc? Careful, he bites."

⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋⚋

Recommended BGM: (X)

Notes: yeaaa, so I changed the nature of Napo and Sebas’ relationship here because they’re supposed to be more or less equals (Sebas still thinks of him as his superior, but still).

Also, I kinda had to tone down Napoleon’s prince charming tendencies and up the arrogance somewhat. He’s supposed to be a military officer here and not just somebody’s boyfriend.

#ikevam fanfic #ikemen vampire #ikevam jean d'arc #ikevam napoleon bonaparte #jeanpoleon

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deivorous · 3 years ago

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@icybreaths asked: 001 section | Bleach? (for the meme)

Fandom Ask Meme || Accepting

001 | Send me a fandom and I will tell you my:

Favorite character: G.... Grimmjoooowww (does this surprise anyone?)

Least Favorite character: Pernida Parnkgjas (theres a lot of characters i dont care for, but theres few that i actively dislike, and RP gives me a new lens which i do appreciate them. A good mun can make me like any character!)

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon): FIVE?! GrimmIchi(hime). YoruGrimmKisu, NelHarri(Grimm), AiGrimm, ShiroIchi(Grimm) hjkasfhjdkghfjgl if Grimm is in the ship I like it. and i especially love polyships! but all of these can also break down into their component parts (ie YoruKisu, NelHarri, ShiroIchi etc)

Character I find most attractive: Shiro/Zangetsu. That is a long standing crush like *dayum*.

Character I would marry: LMAO none of them bc then I would be killed off for plot angst... Probably Kisuke though, for many reasons!

Character I would be best friends with: I feel like I'm quite a personable & charismatic person myself, but I can also be quite domineering, so someone who isn’t too bothered by my being bossy lol I feel like Renji andI would get along? Tatsuki as well. Picking friends is hard!

a random thought:

An unpopular opinion: I liked the fullbringer arc. Genuinely enjoyed it.

My Canon OTP: Isshin & Masaki

My Non-canon OTP: GrimmIchi

Most Badass Character: Zangetsu (Shiro) I love every single one of his scenes where he comes to the rescue

Most Epic Villain: Aizen, I really do feel the villains declined after Aizen.

Pairing I am not a fan of: GrimmUlqui Its quite popular but it never really worked for me.

Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): Oooooooh Yourichi got the shot end of the stick and she deserved better than to be reduced to fan service and a damsel in distress.

Favourite Friendship: I think the Rukia and Orihime friendship is Pure and Good and i would have loved to see more of it.

Character I most identify with: Grimmjow (in case that wasn’t obvious, but good luck guessing why!)

Character I wish I could be: None. All of these guys have a bad thing going on to them. If i had to pick tho then I’d want to be the MC so I’ll take Ichigo!

#[ ooc || out of control ]#[ ask || crack my ribs open to find a heart ]#icybreaths #thank you for the ask!!! I had fun doing this ahahahah

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kidnappedbycartoons · 4 years ago

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Past, Present, Future (Ava X MC)

Notes: Hello, it’s the Ava simp here. I decided to write another Ava X MC fic because I’m not waiting for MC to make a choice, so I made one for her. Enjoy and let me know if I did them justice.

Pairings: Black!MC (Serenity) X Black!Ava

Word Count: 1,956

“Nice pictures, Serenity.”

I looked up from the photographs I held in my hand to find Mackenzie leaning on the doorframe with her arms crossed over her chest. A sense of pride filled my chest at her words. I finally found something that I enjoyed doing and everytime someone let me know that my photos were good, I couldn’t help the smile that crept onto my face.

“Thanks,” I went back to organizing my photos when Mackenzie spoke up again.

“Which ones are you going to put in your portfolio?” The bed dipped as she sat on it. “I mean, you have enough to fill an entire gallery.”

I chuckled at her exaggeration, but she did ask a good question.

“I don’t know, I don’t even know what theme I’m going for,” I dropped the pictures I was holding in my hand onto the bed, bringing my knee to my chest instead.

“Wouldn’t be the first time you didn’t know what to go for,” I threw my pillow at her, disappointed when she caught it.

She didn’t have to remind me of that. Working on the portfolio was the perfect distraction from my rollercoaster of a love life. But now, those three names popped into my head again. Mason, Ava, and Noah. Ava, Noah, and Mason. Noah, Mason, and Ava. Honestly, I was going to have a headache at this point. It’s about to be spring and I still can’t decide who I want to be with. And to make matters worse, I can see it on all of their faces. They’re all tired of me. I guess I would be too. I need to make a decision, but I just don’t know.

“Serenity!” I glanced up, coming face to face with a picture of Mason. “God, didn’t you hear me? I said this is a nice picture of Mason.”

I took the picture out of Mackenzie’s hands, eyes skimming over it. I remember when I took this picture. Mason and I had driven to the beach and he had looked so happy, so carefree, so much like the Mason I remember from childhood that I just had to capture that moment.

I’ve known Mason since we were kids. We were always attached at the hip, if you saw one, then you saw the other. Our families knew each other and we would always hang out at each other’s house. At the same time, I’ve been in love with Mason since we were kids. First love, I guess. He’s always been there to protect me, even from a fly. I never would’ve imagined that he felt the same way as well. I just wish it didn’t come out the way it did. It still stung whenever I remembered how Ava looked when Mason revealed he broke up with her to be with me. Yeah, Mason can do some stupid things sometimes, but I do too. I guess we’re just two peas in a pod.

“Wow, Noah doesn’t look too bad here,” Mackenzie held out the photo for me to take. Just a glance and I remembered when I took the picture. We had driven to the countryside and Noah had looked so free, so light, so handsome, that I just had to take a picture.

Noah was the one that shook everything up. I thought I knew what I wanted, but then he came along. Everyone told me to stay away from him, that he was dangerous, that he was a bad boy. But the more I got to know him, the more I realized those were all lies. Turns out, he’s one of the sweetest and kindest guys I’ve ever met. He’s always been so mature, so understanding, that I felt like I could just be myself around him. There were no expectations, no boundaries when it came to him. I was allowed to be myself, Serenity Price. Not that I didn’t feel that way with Mason, but sometimes I found myself thinking about our past so much that I guess I just stay there sometimes. I always heard the words that if you fell in love with two people, to always choose the second. Because if you really loved the first, you would’ve never fallen for the second one. Yet, I didn’t know what to do. Mason reminded me of the happy memories of the past and Noah was the one that helped me to live in the now.

“Now, if Ava doesn’t become a model in the future, I’m going to be upset,” Mackenzie held out the photo for me to take and I looked down at it. Yeah, I remember this day. We were laughing so hard in photography club and she looked so beautiful, so happy, so charismatic, I couldn’t stop myself from taking the picture.

If Noah shook everything up, Ava absolutely turned everything upside down. My whole life I thought I was into guys. I mean, I was into Mason after all. Even when we had first met I would’ve never thought that Ava was gay or that I might not be straight. But looking back, all the signs were there. The way my heart sped up whenever she would look my way, the disappointment whenever she missed school, the way I lingered too long with our hugs, the way I always made sure to see if she was laughing when I told a joke.

Funnily enough, that period when her and I weren’t talking to each other, was when I realized how much I missed her. Even though I was still talking with Mason and Noah, there was still an empty spot in my heart that only she could fill. Ava Lawrence. My best friend. The one who always stood up for me without a second thought, the one who always made sure to check on me, the one who always managed to make me laugh, and the one who always puts me first. I mean, she took herself out of this whole love square thing to help me out. Then again, maybe she didn’t want to wait around any longer. Regardless, she doesn’t hold it over my head. When I’m with her, I don’t even think about Mason or Noah. I can focus on her and her only.

“Did you forget how to blink or something?” I was jolted out of my thoughts by Mackenzine, who had a teasing grin on her face.

“Shut up,” I placed the three photos down, taking one last look at them. Mason, Noah, and Ava. Mason is my past, my childhood best friend and first love. Noah is my now, the one who pulled me out of my shell and showed me a whole new world. But Ava. Ava was...Ava is...Ava’s....

“I have to go!” I didn’t even wait for Mackenzine to speak as I bolted down the stairs to the front door. I didn’t even hear my dad yelling as I ran past him. I needed to do something first.

________________________________________________________________

I stood in front of the door, my throat suddenly feeling tight and my hands sweating. But I had to do this. I needed to. Raising my fist, I knocked on the door. I needed to do this. I needed to.

She opened the door and I was left breathless. She was clearly getting ready to go to sleep, a bonnet on her head and her face now makeup free. Despite this, she still looked like a goddess that came to bless us with her existence. She always did.

“Serenity, what are you doing here?” She tilted her head, almost like a puppy as she looked me up and down. “In your pajamas?”

“It’s you.” I couldn’t stop myself if I wanted to, the words just fell out. “It’s you I want, Ava. Not Mason or Noah. It’s you. I always thought I was straight, I mean, I was in love with Mason for years. But it’s always been you. You’re the one. When I found out you and Mason were dating, I was heartbroken because I wanted him. I did. But at the same time, I knew you could do better. I knew you deserved better. And I didn’t know if it was because I wanted Mason for myself or if I wanted you for myself. I didn’t know!”

I took a deep breath and continued. “When we weren’t speaking, I hated it. I hated it so much! Even though I was hanging out with Mason and Noah, it wasn’t the same. My heart still didn’t feel complete. It was empty. Empty! I thought I was missing you as a friend, I really did. But then we made up and something still didn’t feel right. Everytime I was around you, my heart started going crazy. I wanted to hug you, to kiss you, to do all sorts of things with you. But you were with Chad and I knew you didn’t deserve me, I mean I was a mess with Mason and Noah. But then homecoming and then everything and...I thought...maybe we could. Maybe. But then Bayla came along.”

I looked down at my feet, my slippers looking back up at me. “I should’ve been happy for you. But I’m not. I’m not. My heart broke when I saw you and her together. And I knew I didn’t deserve to feel that way, considering how indecisive I’ve been and how selfish I’ve been. But I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not putting you first. I’m sorry for taking so long. I’m sorry for letting you slip through my fingers like this. But it’s you I want. And I know it’s too late. But it is. It’s you, Ava.”

I didn’t even realize I was crying till I felt Ava’s fingers wiping the tears away. The tightness in my throat, in my chest, was too much. I felt like I was going to explode with each gentle brush of her fingers. Finally, she wrapped me in her arms and I felt myself melt into her. She held me so tight that I thought I was going to break. Or maybe I already did. I don’t know. But it felt good. I felt warm, comfortable, and full.

She pulled away from me and it was only then that I noticed the redness in her own eyes and the tears staining her cheeks. Great. Just great. I made her cry. Like I needed another reason to hate myself.

“Serenity, Bayla and I broke up,” Was she crying because I reminded her of Bayla? I didn’t even know they broke up. I mean, I’m happy. Is that bad? That is.

“I’m sorry…” I turned around, the cold air finally hitting me. “I should go. I...I’m sorry.”

“Did you mean it?”

I turned around to find Ava standing there, her beautiful face wet from tears and her shoulders slouched. The look in her eyes was, hopeful. I’ve never seen her look so vulnerable.

“Yes.” The second the word slipped out my lips, I felt something lift off my shoulders. For the first time, in a long time, I felt light. I felt right.

I don’t know how she got to me so fast, but all I know is that one second my lips were mine and the next second they were her’s. I placed my hands on her waist, pulling her flush against me as I felt her hands drift up, placing themselves behind my neck. Something about this kiss was different than the ones with Mason and Noah. It felt...fulfilling, like we were two puzzle pieces who fit together. And that’s when I knew. Mason was my past, Noah was my now. But Ava. She’s my future.

#my two first loves #choices mtfl #ava lawrence #mtfl ava #playchoices #choices stories you play

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axwalker · 5 years ago

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Tears in Heaven 8: Revelations

Synopsis: Alexis O’Brien is about to get married but memories of her old life are coming back to haunt her.

Pairings: Liam x MC Drake x MC (TRR)

Warnings: NO ONE UNDER 18 should read this story. This is an 18+ blog.

This story will deal with very dark subjects such as death, severe depression and suicide attempt (among others) if you’re triggered by any of those issues, PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS STORY

To catch up: Masterlist

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Word count: 6,495

Songs inspiration: Tears in heaven by Eric Clapton

Thank you, @burnsoslow for being the absolute MVP of this chapter. You helped me find my story back. And, of course for correcting my numerous English mistakes ... 😋 @mskaneko for creating the amazing GIF of Drake and Alexis. @pedudley Thank you for beta reading and your great feedback. I LOVE YOU ALL ❤️❤️!!

Liam adjusted his tie and put on his suit jacket. He sat on the bed next to Alexis, who was still sleeping, and ran the back of his hand over her cheek, careful not to wake her up. He had arrived late from Valtoria the night before, so they hadn't had a chance to talk after Bertrand's party. Since Drake's return, Liam was worried about Alexis and their relationship. She seemed different, nervous, on edge. He hadn't seen her that agitated since she had left the clinic three years ago. To make matters worse, Tom's birthday and that damned conciliatory hearing were taking place soon, only days from each other.

What if it was too much for her? What if seeing Drake brought back her old feelings for him? Maybe he should contact Rashad and ask him if the hearing was the only way to get the divorce. Liam couldn't bear the thought of losing her. After 10 years of loving Alexis, he would be damned if he was going to let Drake ruin their wedding and life together. Not now that Alexis finally loved him back.

Alexis stirred on the bed and opened her eyes. Liam smiled at her.

“Good morning, love." He leaned in to give her a soft kiss. "Were you able to work last night at the coffeehouse?"

Alexis knew that Liam wasn't going to be pleased about her afternoon with Drake. Liam was still jealous of him, and her old marriage was a sore subject between them. But she refused to lie.

Alexis brought her knees against her chin and hugged herself. "I didn't work much. I ran into Drake, and we talked for a while."

Liam stiffened. His eyes narrowed as he spoke to her. "What do you mean, 'you ran into him'? Is he following you?"

Alexis rolled her eyes. "Please, Liam. Of course not. It was a coincidence. We just talked."

"About what?" Liam inquired.

"About our jobs, our new lives. Nothing important," she answered, uncomfortable with the questioning.

Liam observed her eyes darting; there was something Alexis wasn't telling him. "That's it?" he insisted.

"Yes, that's it." Drake touching her face hadn't meant anything. Liam didn't need to know about it.

Liam took Alexis's hand. "To be honest, I'm a bit nervous about that court hearing with him next week. I'd prefer it if you never had to see him again, darling."

"It'll be fine, Li. According to Rashad, the hearing is fast. In one week, we'll sign the papers, and then you and I will be able to marry. Don't worry," she reassured him with a smile.

Liam nodded. He took her hand and kissed it. "How are you feeling with… with everything else?" he asked, frowning.

Every year, when her son's birthday arrived, she broke, relieving his last celebration over and over again. Every year, Alexis wondered if she really had been that utterly happy or if her mind was idealizing her old family life. Every year, in the days preceding that date, Liam walked on eggshells trying to avoid the subject. Sometimes Alexis asked herself if it wouldn't be better if he'd force her to talk about her son. But it wasn't in Liam's nature. And she didn't want to burden him even more, so neither of them spoke about it openly.

Alexis tried to comfort him. "I'll be fine, Li. Thank you for everything you do for me. I mean it." She tugged Liam's hand, pulling his body to hers, and kissed him. "What time do you need me to be at the university for the Opening Ceremony?" she asked.

Liam aimed to improve education in Valtoria by creating as many schools and universities as possible. One of Alexis' duties as the future Duchess was to make an appearance on the day of the opening, cut the inaugural ribbon, and smile for the press: a job she hated but did to make Liam happy.

"At 11:00 sharp, darling. And I say this with all the love in the world: Please don't be late. Hana will be there waiting for you. Frantz will take you to Valtoria; he's the best driver there is."

"I can drive to Valtoria myself; I enjoy the road," Alexis said as she stood up and put on her robe.

"I'd feel better if he takes you, love. It's safer. And you'll be on time."

Alexis sighed; she was exasperated but didn't want to start a fight. "As you like. See you tonight at Valtoria for Leo's welcome dinner."

"Are you going to be alright with Milos there?" Liam asked, worried, again.

"Liam, please. I'll be fine." Alexis kissed him before stepping into the shower. "I better start getting ready."

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Hana Lee had been working for the Duke of Valtoria for five years. She was Liam Rhys' right hand. He was the person Hana admired the most in the world. Liam was handsome, intelligent, and worldly but extraordinarily kind and generous. He wanted to improve Valtoria in ways that Constantine, the former duke, hadn’t even imagined. Liam's enthusiasm was contagious; he truly loved his duchy, his people.

Hana would've loved to see him engaged to someone who shared his passion. The future duchess didn't seem very happy with her new role. Actually, Alexis never seemed completely happy anywhere. Hana had heard of her tragedy, like everyone else in Valtoria. She pitied her sincerely, but she wished that Alexis was more involved in her future husband's life. The duke was a formidable man. And his future wife didn't seem to appreciate him as much as he deserved.

Emily Black, Hana's assistant, was waiting for her with a coffee and the guest list for the event. They had been working together for three years, and more than her assistant, Emily was a close friend.

"Is she coming?" Emily's contemptuous expression told Hana that she was talking about Alexis.

"Yes, Emi, the future duchess is coming. The duke told me she'd be here at 11:00."

"She's always late. She's so lucky to have this life and share her bed with that delicious man, and she doesn't even realize it," Emily criticized.

Hana scolded her, "Emily! Please show some respect. That is the duke and the future duchess you're talking about, and there are some things you don't know about Alexis."

"Sorry! I just meant that the great and honorable Duke of Valtoria is extremely hot." Emily giggled. "Admit it, Han, you think so, too."

Hana shook her head, laughing. She would never confess it to her assistant, but she found Liam Rhys much more than attractive.

At quarter to eleven, Alexis came into the university in an elegant burgundy suit with nude heels and soft makeup.

"Alexis might hate to be a duchess, but she looks the part. She's gorgeous," Hana told Emily, slightly jealous. Of course Liam was in love with a woman like Alexis; he would never see Hana as anything else than his loyal right hand.

Emily shrugged. "Yeah, she's not ugly, and maybe today she looks fine, but she's not you. You're much more beautiful and poised, Han. You'd be a perfect duchess," Emily claimed, convinced.

Hana blushed. Making a difference in Valtoria was essential to her. But the handsome duke was her forbidden dream, and she would do anything for him. Including helping his fiancée.

"Ms. O'Brien. Good morning," Hanna said respectfully, when Alexis finally reached them. Emily excused herself.

"Please, Hana, as I told you before, you can call me Alexis. We'll have to work together often," Alexis said. She would've liked to have been closer to Hana. After all, they were the same age, and Hana seemed agreeable and smart. She could make a good friend when Alexis would be forced to move to Valtoria after the wedding. But Hana had always put a distance between them, and Alexis wasn't able to get past it.

Her old self would have been able to befriend Hana. Drake used to tease her because she loved to be friends with everyone she met. But Alexis' new personality wasn't happy and charismatic anymore. It was sad and bleak, tainted by tragedy. Alexis shook her head, sick of feeling sorry for herself.

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Drake woke up in good spirits, almost hopeful. For the first time in years, he would be able to practice as a veterinarian again. He hadn't realized how much he missed his career. Drake had been up all night going through his textbooks, files, and old cases. He was determined to be the best again. Before getting out of bed, Drake picked up the picture on his nightstand and sighed nostalgically. It had been taken two months before Tom's death, on a camping trip. In the photo, Drake had Tom and Alexis in his lap. He remembered laughing at Alexis' silly attempts to make Tom smile for the picture. Looking at it was painful, but the photo reminded him why he kept living, why he was fighting. Tom was gone, but Alexis was still there, alive. He took a cold shower and put on a blue shirt and a pair of jeans.

Before going downstairs, Drake stood in front of Tom's old room. Sadly, he thought that he would have to empty it. It wasn't healthy to keep it as a sanctuary forever. His heart tugged when he realized that he'd have to speak to Lexie about it. On the other hand, it might be a good thing for her to face reality instead of running from it. In any case, he'd have to talk to Alexis; it was a decision that they had to make together.

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After the opening ceremony at the university, Alexis decided to call Olivia and Maxwell. They agreed to meet in a bar downtown for cocktails.

Thirty minutes later, the three friends were sitting in a trendy pub with a dDirty mMartini, a glass of whiskey and a Cosmopolitan.

Olivia took a sip of her martini. She observed Alexis, who was absentmindedly fidgeting her engagement ring. "How are the wedding preparations going?"

Alexis flicked her hair. "Regina is in charge of almost everything. Li and I wanted something small, but the guest list is already up to 200 guests," she said, annoyed.

"In old Connie's defense, a 200-guest wedding is small for him. According to Father, Constantine and Regina got married in front of 500 people," Maxwell said while he stirred his Cosmopolitan.

Olivia arched her eyebrows. "Who cares? The point is that you don't want a big wedding, Alexis. I don't know why you don't say anything. The Lexie I knew would have never taken this shit."

"The Alexis you knew doesn't exist anymore," Alexis retorted.

"Yes, she does. Liam has convinced you that you're weak now and that you can't take care of yourself. But that's not true." Olivia paused to let her words sink in. "Look, I know that he means well. Li is a good man who loves you. And I understand that he's so protective of you, especially after you tried to … well, you know."

Maxwell gasped, interrupting her. It was the first time in three years that they had openly discussed the subject.

"Come on, Max, it's not like she doesn't know this." Olivia turned back to Alexis. "Liam saved your life, and since then, you've been playing these weird roles. You're the defenseless princess, and he's the knight in shining armor. And it suits you both. Liam gets to marry you, and you can finally stop living. You gave him all control of your life."

"What do you mean, stop living?" Alexis asked.

"Last time, Maxwell lectured me for an hour, so I'll try to say this as gentle as I can." Olivia took a deep breath. "You're not living your life anymore, Alexis. You're like a robot. You never talk about Tom. You're in a job you don't enjoy. You're committing yourself to a life that we all know you'll hate. You are with Liam because he makes you feel safe. Because you know he can't hurt you like Walker did. That's why you're with him. Which, excuse me, seems pretty damn selfish to me. You both deserve better."

Max shook his head. "That's gentle, Liv? What the hell!"

Olivia rolled her eyes. “I’m not apologizing for saying that. I just want Alexis to be the strong, independent woman she was before all of this. And for her and Li to be happy.”

“Do you think I enjoy this? Do you think I like feeling like this? I feel like my life ended five years ago. Most days I miss my son so much I can’t get out of bed. I’m aware I’m not the same strong woman that I was before. But believe me, Olivia, I’m trying.” Alexis paused to give herself the courage to say the rest. "You have to respect my relationship. And Liam." Alexis sighed. "Of course, it's not the same passion I felt for Drake when I was 19, but I'm not 19 anymore. My love for Drake almost killed me. The main reason I tried to end everything that day was because of my son, but a big part of me also wanted to die because Drake had left. The heartbreak of knowing that I had lost him forever almost killed me, too. Drake and I are over. That's final," Alexis stated.

"I know you’re trying, darling. And, I'm not saying that you should get back with Drake." Olivia saw that Alexis was going to defend Drake, so she raised her hand. "I get why he left." She squeezed Lexie's hand. "I can't even imagine how he felt when you said those horrible things to him. But I called Drake three months later, I told him how desperate you were, he promised to come back, and then he didn't. So, Drake doesn't deserve you, Alexis. The point is that you shouldn't marry someone you don't love when you're still clearly in love with someone else. Maybe you should be alone for a while," Olivia advised, as she had many times before.

"If you'd been in the cabin that day, you'd understand why he never came back. I broke him, Liv." Alexis' eyes watered. "Of course Drake hated me. I would never forgive myself for what I said to him. Never. But he's part of the past. A past that I'm trying to leave behind. Liam … Liam is my future," Alexis said, trying to convince herself more than her friends.

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Alexis had arrived at Valtoria that afternoon. She was reading in the duchy's library when Leo's eldest son entered the room. Milos was an adorable four-year-old. He was dragging a teddy bear and seemed lost.

Alexis closed her book and took him into her arms. He giggled when she lifted him.

"Hi, Milos! Are you lost, babe?" Alexis asked.

Milos nodded shyly. Alexis spun him around the room, and he laughed. "You like this, don't you, little bean?" She gave him a nose kiss. "You're so cute, Milos."

"I love you, auntie!" Milos screamed happily.

Her heart tugged. Milos' laughter was both blissful and painful. Images of her own son giggling and smiling as she played with him washed over her. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she was happy to spend a few minutes with her nephew. The Rhys assumed that playing with Milos was too much for her, so they tried to keep the boy away. Alexis understood. Only one year ago, the mere thought of seeing a boy that age would've broken her. However, now that she was feeling stronger, she liked to spend time with him.

Liam walked in, and his heart sank, seeing Alexis with Milos in her arms. Every time after playing with him, she felt a bit sad and nostalgic. Liam believed that both feelings were a trigger for her. He took the boy out of her arms.

"I'm sure Leo and Amanda are looking for this little devil." Liam grinned at Milos. "I'll take him to them, my love; I'll be back in a few minutes."

Alexis wished that Liam wouldn't worry about her so much. Sometimes, his concern made her feel suffocated. And Olivia was right, she was an adult woman, capable of making her own decisions.

She stood up and took Milos back. “I’m going to be fine, Li. We’re just playing, aren't we Milos?”

The boy nodded happily. “Yes, auntie. I want to draw trees!”

“That is so cool, Milos!” Alexis kissed the top of Milos’ head. “Let’s go look for a piece of paper and some colored pencils.”

“I don’t think that is a good idea, my love,” Liam whispered.

“I do, Li. Trust me. It’s time.” Alexis kissed his fiancé and left the room with Milos in her arms.

Liam watched her leave the library visibly worried. As much as he wanted to, he didn’t think Alexis was strong enough yet.

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A week later, Alexis was getting ready for her court hearing. She looked at herself in the mirror and ran her hand over the dark circles around her eyes. She hadn't slept all night thinking about her son's birthday.

Liam was worried; he thought that seeing Drake was only adding to her stress. But Alexis was relieved to be seeing the only person who understood precisely what she was feeling.

Drake put on a grey shirt and a pair of black pants and went downstairs. As he poured coffee into his portable mug, his eyes set on the calendar glued to the wall. In two days, Tom would have turned eight. The memory of his last birthday was still alive in his mind, almost burning. He was grateful to see Lexie today: the only other person in the world who knew what he was going through.

Alexis and Rashad entered the family courthouse and found Drake already there, sitting on one of the benches.

"Hi," Alexis said shyly, as she tucked her hair behind her ear. Suddenly, she felt like a 19-year-old teenager all over again.

"Hi, Lex," Drake replied, smiling. His heart was beating abnormally fast.

"No lawyer?" she asked softly.

Drake shrugged. "I don't need it."

"Me neither!" she answered quickly. "Liam insisted. Rashad is only here in case we need him. Plus, he's a friend. He's Max's future husband; they're getting married in two weeks, at the beach in Portavira. The ceremony will be beautiful," she rambled.

Drake smiled at her reassuringly. Lexie always rambled when she was nervous. He extended his hand to Rashad. "Nice to meet the most patient person in the world," he said, smirking.

"There's been some talks about making the title official." Rashad laughed. "I'm crazy about him, though," he added.

Drake smiled. "I'm happy for you both; Max is one of the best people I know."

A marshal came out to the hallway. "Mr. and Mrs. Walker?" he called.

Alexis' heart leaped. She blushed crimson red, hearing her old last name.

"It's us," Drake answered with a firm voice and placed his hand on the small of Alexis' back to let her pass. The movement was soft and brief, but Alexis felt a jolt going through her body, awakening every nerve. She blushed again, ashamed of her reaction. Drake noticed it and smiled to himself, hopeful.

They entered a conference room. The judge was sitting at one side of a round table with her assistant next to her. Alexis and Drake sat across from them.

"Good afternoon, I'm Judge Gina Connors," she said, smiling.

Drake and Alexis answered back, so the judge proceeded, "First of all, I want you to know that this is a safe space. Nothing you say in here will leave this room." she paused to make sure they understood. "The purpose of this hearing is to figure out whether or not you can save your marriage. I'll ask you some questions, we'll talk, and at the end of the hearing, I'll leave you alone for a few minutes. I'll give you my assessment, but the final choice belongs to you. If you're not ready to make a decision at the end of the hearing, the court will give you one week to think about it. If your decision to get a divorce is final, we'll agree on the terms. If everything goes smoothly, my assistant, Tess," she nodded at a small woman with red hair and big glasses who was typing into a computer, "will send you the divorce papers in one week. Is everything clear?"

They both nodded. The judge looked at them over her glasses. "Let's start. I'll repeat your complete names for the record. Mrs. Alexis Jade Walker and Mr. Drake James Walker. Is that correct?"

Alexis and Drake answered in perfect unison. "Yes, Your Honor." They looked at each other and exchanged a small smile.

Gina Connors was 58 years old and had been a judge for almost two decades. She had seen hundreds of couples come and go out of her office, and she prided herself on having an impeccable instinct. Something about the Walkers told her that they still had a chance to save their marriage.

The judge read the papers that Rashad had sent her. "So you got married 10 years ago, in 2009. Is that correct?"

Drake nodded. He turned to watch his wife, but Alexis was suddenly occupied toying with her ring. Drake sensed her nervousness and almost reached out to hold her hand, but he restrained himself.

"You have a son, Thomas Scott Walker …" Suddenly, Judge Connors stopped talking. The room went silent while she read the boy's death certificate. The judge lifted her head and saw that Alexis was looking down, trying very hard not to cry. Drake had immediately covered Alexis' hand with his and was rubbing it with his thumb soothingly. Feeling instantly calmer, Alexis took a sharp breath and looked at the judge again.

"I'm deeply, deeply sorry. Most couples have trouble adjusting after the loss of a child, but I can give you the number of an excellent therapist who might be able to help you," the judge advised with empathy. Her chest tightened with sadness for the young, broken couple in front of her.

Alexis talked through the lump in her throat. "Thank you, Your Honor, but that won't be necessary." She folded her arms over her chest.

"In the documents that Mr. Domvallier filed, it's stated that you separated in 2015." The judge took her glasses off and leaned against her chair. "What happened exactly?"

Alexis rubbed her eyes and took a deep breath. "It was my fault."

Drake shook his head firmly. "It wasn't your fault, Lexie."

Alexis raised her hand. "Please, Drake, let me speak. I've wanted to say this for a long time, but I didn't know how." Her eyes watered as she turned to look right into his eyes. Drake's heart broke, watching her struggle to speak. "I'm sorry. I was so angry at life and at our fate that I needed an outlet." Her voice broke, so she took another sharp breath. "But please, Drake, you have to believe me; it wasn't your fault. I don't blame you. I really, really don't. I know how much you loved him. Love him. I know you'd never have done anything to hurt him." Alexis started crying, and Drake couldn't take it anymore. He raised his hand and, very softly, brushed his thumb on her cheeks to wipe her tears.

"Shh, it's fine, Lexie. I know. Don't cry, I know." Drake tried to comfort her, but Alexis couldn't stop crying.

Drake took her hand and squeezed it. "Lexie, you have nothing to be sorry about. I know you don't blame me." Her eyes were still fixed to the floor, so he insisted. "Hey, Lex, look at me." Finally, her brown eyes met his. "I know, baby. Please don't blame yourself either."

The judge observed the exchange silently. After a few minutes, she asked, "What happened next?"

Alexis spoke. "I left our home because I didn't know how to deal with the death of our son. Drake tried to do everything he could. It was my fault.”

Drake shook his head. "Please, Lexie, stop protecting me."

The judge interrupted them. "I'll admit that I don't have a lot of couples in here who fight to take responsibility for the divorce." She gave them a benevolent smile. "Let's make this simple. Who left the marital home?"

They both answered at the same time. "I did." The judge smiled again.

Alexis added, "I did first. We fought, and I left. Drake must've thought that I wasn't going to come back, and he left for Spain." She looked sideways at Drake.

Judge Connors looked at Drake. "Is that true?"

"Yes. It is, Your Honor." He turned to Alexis. "I was a fool. I thought you were gone for good."

The judge nodded. She kept going through the documents. "In June 2015, you were committed to a psychiatric clinic," the judge looked at Alexis, "and Mr. Walker couldn't come back."

Alexis looked at Drake, puzzled. "What does she mean you ‘couldn't’?" she asked him.

Drake rubbed his beard. "Olivia called me to tell me how bad you were. I was desperate to see you, but the night before my flight back to Cordonia, I got into a stupid fight. I was sent to prison for almost a year; that's why I couldn't come back earlier."

Shock. Confusion. Surprise. Anger. Sadness. A mix of emotions invaded her. For four years, Alexis had lived convinced that the person she loved the most in the world had abandoned her because he hated her. Not one night had passed without her reliving the night she had lost him, over and over again.

Alexis was unable to talk. After a few minutes, she looked at Drake, wide-eyed. "You couldn't," she murmured. "That's why you didn't come back, because you couldn't." Her eyes teared up again. "Why the fuck you didn't tell someone, Drake? Max or Li? Someone?!"

"No one could help me anyway," Drake answered. "I wanted our friends to be focused on helping you."

Alexis ran her hand through her hair angrily. "Do you know how many nights I cried myself to sleep because I thought you didn't care? How many times I crumbled because I was sure you hated me?" Her eyes were filled with tears; her voice was trembling with rage. "I would have done anything to help you, Drake." Alexis threw her hands in the air. "Anything. You didn't have to go through that alone. And I would've known that you didn't hate me. It would've changed everything."

"I thought you hated me back then too," Drake replied simply.

"Why?" she asked, almost seething.

"Why what?"

"Why did you have to get into a fight the night before coming back? What was so important?"

Drake knew that he needed to be honest. It was going to be hard to talk about his feelings, but if he wanted a real shot with Alexis, it was the only way. "It wasn't about that. It's like you said, I was so fucking angry all the time that I needed an outlet. I hated myself, Lexie. The guilt was too strong; it became so unbearable that the only way to be able to breathe was to drink and fight. The physical pain made the grief easier somehow. When Liv called, I tried to leave that same day, but there weren't any flights available. I shouldn't have gone out that night; I wasn't thinking straight. I only wanted one drink to take the edge off the idea of seeing you again. But one drink became two and then three and then a bottle. And once the fight started, I lost all control of myself. I'm sorry, Lexie."

- It breaks my heart every single time I look at you. You're hurting me. You killed my son -

Her own horrible words came back, rushing at her. "No one knows better than me what it feels like, Drake. I'm sorry, too. It's just that I can't believe you went to prison. That you had no one there to help you." She paused, thinking about all the things they had lost. Alexis turned to the judge apologetically. "I'm sorry for my outburst, Your Honor."

Judge Connors smiled at her playfully. "I'm a family judge. If someone doesn't yell at a hearing, I feel like I'm not doing my job correctly." She turned to Drake. "Continue your story, Mr. Walker," the judge demanded.

"I came back to Cordonia when I was released, but Lexie wasn't ready to see me," Drake explained.

Alexis shook her head in disbelief. "Excuse me? What are you talking about?"

Drake pinched the bridge of his nose, reluctant to tell the truth about Liam. Again, he decided to be honest. "I came back when you were about to leave the psychiatric clinic, but Liam thought that it was better if I didn't see you. I agreed," Drake said, placing his hand on his chest, "so I went back to Spain."

"You came back," Alexis muttered. "You came back for me. Liam knew how much I missed you. Why did he do that?"

Drake's heart leaped in his chest. Alexis had been waiting for him all that time, and he had failed her. He should have known better. "Of course I came back, Lexie. You were the only thing on my mind all that time. I didn't think about anything else. I tried to be the perfect inmate, so they'd let me out sooner and I could come back to see you. You have to believe me that when I was in prison, I didn't know that you had tried to --” Fuck, it was hard to say. “ -- to kill yourself."

Alexis nodded. "I believe you, Drake." She hesitated before asking, but she needed to know. "And Liam knew? All this time, he knew?"

Drake knew that Liam was Lexie's rock. He didn't want her to feel lost, so he decided to leave the suicide letter out of the story. "Liam didn't know I had been in prison, Lexie. And I'm sure that he honestly thought that it was best for you if we didn't see each other. I believed it too," he answered honestly.

"So, both of you decided for me what I wanted, what I needed?" She was beyond angry.

"We were just trying to protect you."

"From you? You were the only one who could've helped me." Her voice broke again.

Drake's heart jumped at her last words. "No, not from me. From strong emotions. You weren't ready."

Alexis didn't reply. She needed to speak with Liam.

"Well," the judge finally intervened, "after what I observed here today, I don't think you should file for a divorce so fast. I'll leave you alone for a few minutes, but my professional opinion is that you shouldn't make any decisions today. As you know, you can make a request to postpone the decision for a week, or, better yet, suspend the process altogether." The judge stood up and left, followed by her secretary.

Alexis stood up and opened the window. She needed fresh air. Drake stood up as well and cut the distance between them.

"Are you okay, Lexie?" Drake asked, worried.

Alexis nodded. "It's just that all these years, I was so sure of everything. I thought you hated me. I thought Liam was perfect."

Drake shook his head. He had to be very careful if he didn't want to scare her off. He took another step and raised his hand, slowly placing it on her face. "I could never hate you, Lexie." She didn't move, so Drake raised his other hand as well, cupping her face. "I love you, Alexis. Like crazy, like a madman. Even more than 10 years ago." He sighed. "I miss you so fucking much, baby. I miss everything about you. Give me another chance. Give us another chance."

Alexis' heart was beating so fast that she was sure that Drake could hear it. He was only a few inches from her. His manly presence was intoxicating her, making it impossible for her to think straight.

And for a minute, she considered it. She thought about leaving everything behind and running away with Drake. But Liam's image popped into her head. Despite his lie, he had done everything for her. He had saved her; he had helped her to come back to life. She took a step back.

"I'm sorry, Drake. It's too late now. I can't do that to Liam."

Drake took a step in her direction. "You're the only reason I still fight, Lexie." He looked at her, at her flushed cheeks, at her nervousness, at the way she was avoiding his eyes. "I know you still love me too, Lexie."

"I don't." Her trembling voice betrayed her. She darted her eyes to the window. Drake took a step towards her.

Drake took her chin with his hand and raised it to him. "Repeat that looking at me."

Her breath hitched; they locked eyes with each other, both knowing that she wouldn't be able to repeat it.

Drake loved that Alexis was still using the same cherry fragrance that she used when they were together. He smiled, thinking of the numerous times he had inhaled her scent while he made love to her. Drake would do anything to kiss her again. To feel her again.

Drake's eyes turned to her lips. He leaned in and whispered, "I'm going to kiss you now, Lexie. If you want to stop me, just say the word and I will."

Heat rose from Alexis' stomach to her chest. Drake's lips were getting closer, and her heart skipped a beat; the smell of sandalwood was mesmerizing. His large hands were tenderly rubbing her face, but she felt them everywhere. Alexis parted her lips and felt Drake all over her, filling all her senses as the taste of him nearly silenced all her guilt.

Drake's heart pounded in his chest as every breath he took smelled like cherry. He pulled her in, claiming her mouth again, hungry and intense, until her knees gave in. She tasted precisely as he remembered. Her lips felt so soft on his. As his tongue explored her mouth, he decided that he was never going to let her go. Alexis was his, and he was hers. It couldn't be any other way. Alexis got lost in the kiss for a few minutes until Liam's face came back to haunt her.

She gently pushed Drake away. "I'm sorry, Drake. I can't. It's too late now. Liam-"

"I know. You can't do this to him," Drake said, disappointed.

"No, I can't! Liam not only saved my life, but he fought day and night to make me happy again. Liam lied, yes, but he doesn't deserve this. I'm not going to leave him, Drake. I'm sorry." Alexis felt her heart breaking, but she added, "It's too fucking late for us."

"Just one week."

"What?" she asked, puzzled.

"Just give me one week. You can't possibly make a decision right now. Not after everything you just heard. And you can't lie to me, Lexie. I know you're not happy." Drake looked at her. "I'm just asking you to take one week and really think about this. If, in the end, you're still sure that you love Liam and want to divorce me, I swear, I'll sign the papers."

Alexis tucked her hair behind her ears. She couldn't resist Drake’s pleading eyes. "Alright, one week, so we get used to the idea. But that's it."

Drake shook his head no. "You have to promise me that you'll think about everything that happened here today; please, Lex."

"Ok, I promise," she assured him.

Judge Connors and her secretary reentered the room and sat in their chairs.

"Did you reach a decision?" the judge asked.

"We'd like to take one week to think about it," Drake replied. He couldn't help the hopeful tone in his voice.

Judge Connors smiled. Her intuition never failed. "You have one week to reconsider. At the end of that week, if you still want to, you have to come back here to sign the agreement for the divorce," she paused and added, smiling, "but if I'm honest with you, I prefer if I didn’t see you ever again."

She stood up and shook their hands.

They both went out of the building in silence. Rashad was waiting for Alexis.

"Was everything all right?" he asked.

"Yes, Rash, thank you. I'm sorry that you had to come here for nothing."

"Well, I have to verify the divorce agreement. Is it ready?"

“No, it’s not. We asked for one more week,” Alexis replied without further explanation.

Rashad arched his eyebrows. He hadn't known them as a couple, but even after a few minutes with them, their chemistry was palpable. He worried about Liam, though; the duke wasn't going to be exactly happy about the news. "All right, let me know what you decide."

"Rashad, please, don't say anything to Liam yet. I'll tell him in person, but he's in Valtoria today," Alexis pleaded.

"Don't worry, Alexis, I won't. It was nice to meet you, Drake."

"Same, man; give my best to Max," Drake replied.

"I will! Bye, darling." Rashad kissed Alexis on both cheeks and left.

Drake looked at her, unsure of what to say. They were both exhausted. Alexis probably needed time to process everything that she had heard that day. Drake walked her to her car.

"Are you okay, Lexie?"

She nodded slowly. "I am."

"I know you're strong, but this was a lot to take in."

Alexis bit her lip: her universal sign when she hesitated to say something.

"What's going on, Lex? You can tell me anything."

"His things." Alexis turned to Drake as she played with her ring again. "What are you doing with them?"

"I was actually thinking about emptying his room. What do you think about that?" Drake asked carefully.

She nodded with tears in her eyes. "I understand. I don't know how you do it, to live in the cabin with his room still intact." She surprised herself by asking, "Can I be there?"

Drake gave her a sad smile. "Of course. When do you want to do it?"

"I don't know." She hugged herself, feeling suddenly cold.

Drake had to actively stop himself from hugging her as tight as he could. "I thought that we could do this on his birthday. We hate that day anyway. Maybe it'll be less horrible if we're together."

Alexis nodded slowly. "Maybe." She thought about it for a few seconds. "I agree. Let's do it next Wednesday. We'll see each other only for that." She looked at Drake knowingly and he nodded.

She looked for her car keys until she found them at the bottom of her bag. They stared at each other; Drake leaned in to kiss her on the cheek as he brushed her face with his fingers longingly.

"See you Wednesday, Lexie."

She smiled, flustered. "See you Wednesday, Drake."

Alexis got into her car and drove away.

Drake was right; she had a lot of things to consider and think about. But at that moment, she was more furious than anything else. Alexis couldn't understand why Liam had lied to her all those years. She decided to go to Valtoria immediately. Her conversation with Liam couldn't wait another day.

PERMATAG (Drake x Alexis): @ac27dj @twinkle-320 @kimmiedoo5 @marshmallowsandfire @loveellamae @burnsoslow @mskaneko @pedudley @lauzales @debramcg1106 @ravenpuff02 @pug-bitch @princessleac1

TIH: @ao719 @yukinagato2012 @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @cordonia-gothqueen @bebepac @nomadics-stuff @cordonianroyalty @hopefulmoonobject @msjr0119 @forthebrokenheartedthings @bascmve01 @marshmallowaremyfavorite

#axwalker writes #tw grieving #tw child death #tw depression

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