#idONT KNOW WHY BUT I JUST REALLY FELT LIKE I HAD TO MAKE THIS

[bpdfox]

Vent/thought dump I wrote a month ago. It's long and disjointed and I was also high when I wrote it. Figured I'd put it here, this is sorta where my head has been lately.

Am I nothing more than a mirror??

I don't know how to even get my thoughts out. I'm so… isolated.

I've felt a profound sense of isolation and separateness since I was born. Like literally.

Sitting there picking holes in my leg, pulling the hairs out so I know I can feel.

I can only think clearly when I'm tearing myself apart.

HOW CAN I GET WHATS INSIDE OF MY HEAD OUT?

Even today during therapy my therapist just sort of

I NEED TO BE SEEN.

She just sort of like. Had a lot of stuff she needed to process with all of the church shit and all of the fucking bullshit going on with that

I'm not worth it unless I can provide a service to someone else

I cannot connect

I don’t know if I'm capable of connecting and that scares me. That terrifies me. I can't imagine going the rest of my life feeling this way. I don't think I can. I can't.

I feel so small when I'm on these, everything is tall and towering above me

I feel inferior, threatened, judged when I'm around my younger brother. Even he is rejecting me? I've been asking him to play some games with me for weeks and he wont and I feel so fucking stupid trying to

Its' like im a kid trying to tell my dad that my goat is dying in the shed but he's too busy working

I CANNOT CONNECT

When my aunt was trying to use her fucking 'healing' bullshit on me and she was sitting there holding my arms and telling me what she thought was going on in my brain, that I was having such a hard time, blah blah. She was telling me exactly what was going on in her brain. She was using me as a reflection.

I'm' not your fukcing passion project

People only come to me when they need something from me

I'm a project, a side project, a 'once-in-a-while' hobby that maybe they’ll return to when they get bored

I'm so alone. I'm always alone.

I've felt this way since I was a kid

Even in my old friend gorups I was always the odd one out, people would cycle through me and talk to me if they

I AM NOT ENOUGH

IM NOT WORTHY OF CONNECTING WITH

I AM NOT WORTH CONNECTING TO

WHY

I was ripped out of my mother's womb and isolating was the only way I survived

I had to be in a stupid fucking box, incubating me, with the stupid fucking earmuffs that made everything louder, and I WAS ALONE

I WAS ALONE

I WAS ALONE

My mom is only talking to me about my brother

My brother is a fucking homophobic asshole and it makes me so sad and scared and upset and mad that my mom wants him to feel supported

I'm leaving my feet behind always, I'm forgetting them

My legs don't feel like a part of me, I don't feel like a part of my body. Is this what people mean by out of body experience

Even my therapist

Idont thinki can fucking do this

Im a leech, im a leech im a leech im a leech im a leech and im alone

And that's how I'll always be

My brother is going to his fucking stupid homophobic transphobic stupid fucking religious cunt ass fucking school and

I HOPE OAKS DIES, I REALLY DO. I REALLY FUCKING DO

I HOPE HE CHOKES ON A FUCKING FORK, I HOPE IT GETS WEDGED IN HIS FUCKING ESOPHAGUS AND HE ASPHIXIATES ON HIS OWN FUCKING BLOOD

I'm not worth connecting to

I cant get anything out and that scares me so bad

Because nobody understands unless I can get it out but I fucking cant I fucking cant

All I am is disgusting, gross, unloved

I'm only loved if I meet the conditions, if I meet the criteria. I can't do taxidermy in the barn but my brother can tan a rabbit hide inside the house?

I'm a hazard an inconvenience. I didn’t want to eat what the rest of the family wanted but that didn't matter. I'm a scavenger, I have to pick from what's left and hope I can make it through the night.

I'm disgusting I have mental fleas I'm always itchy and crawling and I can never fucking get comfortable, never get comfortable, I'm so tense all the time, I cant get to sleep because I cant get comfortable, I'm not meant to be in my fucking body

I think everyone can see it and that's

All I am is a hole

Is this all there is?

I noticed a new spot on my scalp, scab scab scab. Ipicked it. Why do I evne bother trying to not pick. Who am I fucking doing it for.

Im so fucking alone. I think im fucking cursed like genuinely. I cannot fucking connect. No matter how hard I try. And so I isolate and I sabotage myself

I'm fucking disgusting im not worth taking care of im not wroth anything. Im not worth anything. Im not worth anything. I'm a leech im a leech im a leech I'm a scab I'm a fucking useless piece of shit. EVERYONE CAN FUCKING SEE IT. EVERYONE CAN FUCKING SEE IT. And that's why im alone and that’s why that willn ever fukcing change

I try to show my photography and I just get a

Its no wonder I started fukcing drinking I cannot handle it. I cant handle it.

I have been drowning and alone since I was born at 28 weeks old. And nobody fucking cares. And nobody fucking sees. All I am is a mirror.

I don’t have a fucking personality I just cling to whoever I hope will give me approval and I don’t even pay attention to whether I'm liking whatever the fuck it is, all that matters is that they're having a good time

I can't keep doing this but I don’t think I can stop. I was programmed this way and this is all I know how to do and it's going to fucking kill me. It is going to fucking kill me.

I'm running myslef over again and again I'm the coyote that wasn't fast enough and I'm the car that didn't stop. I'm the road that wasn't takencare of and the guts that spilled across it and the dying breath of the animail terrified alone and that's all that I will ever fucking be. Only here for the bugs. I'm carrion. I'm already dead and im wasting away and everybody can see it and nobody will ever love me because once they see past the mirror all that's left is the fucking pit. The hole the empty the nothing.

I have to be funny because then maybe if im lucky they’ll want to stick around but I don’t thinkanybody really does. I'm always terrified that they will leave. They are going to leave me when they realize how useless you are.

Myeyes hurt.

I havent cried like that in so long. It gets stuck inside me and it's like congested. I'm congested and I cant get anything out and im ALONE AND NOBODY CARES AND NOBODY SEES

I CANT FUCKING DO THIS. I CANT FUCKING DO THIS.

IF I DON’T G

I CANT DO THIS

I AM

It's all loss IT'S ALL LOSS. ALWAYS. REJECTION REJECTION REJECTION

I CANNOT

HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO GO ON HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO KEEP GOING LIKE THIS.

MY BROTHER HAS FRIENDS MY SISTER HAS FRIENDS

WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO ME??

I'M ROTTING. I'M NOTHING. I'M WASTING AWAY HERE AND IM USELESS.

I cannot

I'm really struglging with how alone I am. How alone I am. How alone I am

Christ.

Something broke insidwe of me but theres nbody there to witness it

Ive been out to them for ten fucking years. And they still misgender me. They don’t bother to get it right. I don’t know if my sister's husband even knows im nonbinary

I'm not fucking worth the effort. Im not worth the effort. WHY THE FUCK AM I EVEN TRYING

I'm howling alone and im hoping to hear a response but it's only mirrored

Nobody will ever respond

And even if they did I don’t know if it could reach me truly. Im in a fucking bubble. Im a specimen under glass for inspection and reflection and to look at when things get boring but I always endup back on the shelf.

Went through everyone in thefamily except for me . Left me out of the speech.

All im good for is to consume

I can only think clearly when I'm hurting myself

Picking myself apart

I'm going to be alone. Christ im going to be alone.

I don’t understand it and im struglging to keep up

I can feel myself closing up again. Goodbye.

The doors are closing again.

[anawkwardlady]

confession: I watched midsommar and couldnt regret it more. The movie was great but I underestimated how close its themes would hit home and my tolerance for gore. Im too embarrassed to tell anyone irl, bc my only answer to why I kept watching is that I felt like I would only imagine worse stuff, if I didnt know how it actually ended. Even more embarrasing, I only watched it in the first place bc gifs und art works of the dance scene made me think its more lika a feminist/(purely) psychology movie. But now I just feel awful, my meds for my anxiety dont work, I keep hearing the moaning sounds and being outside freaked me out today, Idont know how Ill go to my classes tomorrow. Im sorry for the word dump, but keeping it to myself makes me just feel more stressed/paranoid.

Hey, I'm really sorry you had that experience. It's nothing to be embarrassed of and I think you should be able to talk to someone close to you about it without them mocking you for that : it simply didn't mix well with your own experiences and your anxiety it happens to a lot of people. I can't help you in a tangible way but what I personally experienced is that when something impacts me greatly like that it usually starts to decrease once I can get some sleep. Like progressively the fear settles down. If you need to listen to something or keep some lights on thats fine too. I also think it would be important to share this with someone close you trust in hope they can ground you when you feel really paranoid about it. I hope you get better

[rosaj1890]

AUTUMN DIARIES

Today is the 6th of september . Onam in my state . I am in UK.. alone .. I feel alone and very very bad .. i never thought that i would be alone in UK failing the same exam twice . Ignoring my stupid cousins who have no intention of helping me .. like its just sad whats happening around me .. I have to face a lot of demons alone .. ALONE ..I have always had this idea that i would never be alone after marriage atleast thats what i saw around me . but in my case im just laone all the time.. I was feeling like trash for a long time after failing this exam ..this feeling just worsened.. I am with my friends all the time.. they were with me all the time gave me a lot of confidence but now everything is shattered . I just couldnt do it to be honest .. I thought that every single time i faced shit .. I was alone evn while my dad had an attack.. I was alone .. I never had anyone to rely on.. emotionally you know..

I dont love my husband anymore.. I stopped loving him when my dad got sick. I'm sad .

But im glad to have met wonderfull people on the way .. Aleena babee aunty lilly aunty,, These people make me feel good here . I had no idea that i would have to face all these struggles but the good thing about being alone is that atleast you are not with the wrong people now.. like if i was with the wrong crowd.. it would have been so bad for me .. like so bad ... My life owuld have been so easy

I know i feel lonely .. terribly lonely sometimes.. but its better than being stuck with the wrong crowd

I can always give up on this journey .. but then why should i continue in this lonely road .. why .. for my parent s? for my husband? for bro?

what is my motivation to stay here why did i not want to go back.. because the last tme i left for india i felt a weight on my chest... When i came to UK i felt really sad .. but now i mean i dont want to go back as a failure.. i want to be a success.. I want to stay here,,Why because this place is better for me. I think I can ive the life I deserve here . I yearned to come back here . I wish someone was here with me .. a friend .. someone who says you've got this im here with you nnoke

But atleast now Im not with the wrong people..Imagine being around my snoopy aunts and rude uncle.. it would have been a mess..

I think people dont treat me with respect because idont treat myself that way,, The way you carry yourself is important allae .. I didnt know that . I should be more in love with myself now ..ht

So what if im lonely .. I mean imagine being around the wrong people.. thats what happened the first PLAB exam.. the second one.. Ihad to do a lot of things by MYSELF.. I was alone all the time.. And this is my third attemot surely my parents's pockets are fried now ,.. but lets be honest i need time because im doing a lot by myslef and im also healing myself .. taking care of myslef.. cooking for myself ...cleaning the dishes in a stuoidass kitchen with a bunch of dumbhigh babies.. I think i have to be more sure of myself.. So what if im alone.. its good only noe.. I dont have to deal with my mom and dad's constant bickering... I dont have to deal with my husband's selfish deeds .. I don't have to pretend to be someone else that im not.. Like im good.. Im good.. My life right now is good.. The worst is truly over .

[letteredwingsrecs]

Sorry for this long ass review where I will be speaking back your own words to you but the tags wouldn't suffice 😭:

Okay firstly you introduced their dynamics sooooo well (side note I love Kevin being done with their shit so much) like the ranting the bickering THEY'RE SO OBSESSED WITH EACH OTHER AND THE ONLY ONE UNWILLING TO ADMIT THE OBSESSION IS READER LIKE GIRL WHAT (also damn I wasn't expecting her to have a boyfriend like you said y/n but I was sitting here like YOU BETTER STOP PLAYING)

And the angst was so good like reader telling him not to cross the fucking line when they had their argument like you really felt the tension and the line reader drew between them sheesh!!

Okay but first line that really kicked me in the gut was this about loser(affectionately) jae:

"He didn’t just crave the warmth and comfort from your undying flames.

He wanted to burn."

LIKE PLEASEEE HES SO SO OBSESSED HES SO UNHINGED

But also like him aching for the pain of being burnt by you but being tormented with the wonderings of why you cared about where he was or noticing that he looks different than usual was so *💋*

This part just made me cackle cos once again he is such a loser we love to see it:

"The self-respect he had for himself was buried six feet deep beneath the surface of the earth when it came to you."

This part was just so 🥺🥺🥺 like this part did things to my chest I was like stop he is so c*te 🥺🥺🥺🥺:

"In an ideal world, Hyunjae would leave his car, join you by your side, and, if he was lucky, he’d pull you into his arms and hold you close against his chest. He wanted to be there for you in whatever way he could, but he ended up being a deer in headlights, too afraid to make the wrong move and lose you again."

THIS BIT HURT ME SO BAD AND I HATED THE READR THUS MYSELF BECAUSE OW OW OW I WAS GASPING IN RAGE AND HURT ON HIS BEHALF:

“You love me, don’t you?”

His heart stuttered, all words caught up in his throat, but he knew there was no defending himself—not when he was practically drooling at every move you made; he was hyperaware of the hand playing with the hair on his nape, the way your lips nearly hovered over his, and how your tears glistened under the moonlight.

His entire existence was confirmation of your words, and you knew it.

“You’d do anything for me, Jae. What’s stopping you now?”

There was a stillness as you two stared at one another. He swallowed and pulled slightly back.

He knew better.

“You don’t want me.” He was brokenhearted"

LIKE HELLO HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT TO HIM AND GOSH THE WAY HE SAID YOU DONT WANT ME IM GONNA CRY AGAIN THINKING ABOUT HIS LOSER FACE BEING SO SAD

Once again I was obsessed with how much of a loser he is:

"When you would pull back, his lips would chase yours, and you two fell into an endless cycle. He couldn’t even fathom how you were pulling away for air when you were his oxygen. Maybe you weren’t oxygen itself, but the fumes you emitted had already replaced his need for air, deluding him into believing that you were what he needed to stay alive.

You were suffocating, toxic, and destructive, and he wanted more." LIKE

Oh when reader was like "you wanted to be his downfall" I was there like a villain cackling rubbing my hands together like OHOHOHO IF ONLY YOU KNEW YOU BEEN HIS DOWNFALL FOR A LONG TIME NOW

“I know you inside and out, Y/N. I know you better than him, and this is how you treat me.” ur such a loser I want you pull yourself together man 😩

ALSO HELP IDONT WANNA QUOTE DIRECTLY BUT JUST HIM TONGUE?!?!?! INCOHERANT JUST STOP THAT WAS ILLEGAL THAT WAS SO 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

“All this for me, and you still have the fucking audacity to choose him.” this line... did some unhinged sinful things to me like aldkgkskdkd HAHAH SHIT HE MADE ME FEEL INSANE WITH THIS LINE HELP that was...so hot... yea... I can't give more because my brain feels a bit like mush honestly (tongue game strong 🤪)

When he asked if he was sloppy seconds I was like 🥺☹️ want a hug? BUT THEN HE BROKE THE NECKLACE AND I WAS LIKE OH DAMN I WANT NO NEED YOU AGAIN 😭😭😭

Damn just realised I probably ready this with loser jae lens I am no better than him fr

And when he said the necklace looked cheap anyway 🤭🤭🤭

HIM CALLING OUT READER WHILE SIMULTANEOUSLY MAKING READER GO DUMB FOR HIM THIS WHOLE SECTION WAS SO QODOEKEKW CRAZY IT WAS HOT:

“He’s not yours, princess. Tell me, how can you say that when his dick has been up other girls?” With his free hand, he grabbed your face and made sure you were staring straight at him before shoving it to the side. 

“You need to fucking wake up and realize that you can dream all you want about how he’d react if he saw you hopping on my dick, but guess what? He wouldn’t care.” Hyunjae pulled out his fingers and left you alone in the backseat. 

You sat there, a wreck and vulnerable, as you tried to catch your breath. You lay back on your forearms, curious eyes following his every movement.

“There’s a reason he hasn’t left you yet,” Hyunjae explained, opening the front door to his car to grab a condom and his phone. He tucked both into his back pocket before returning to you, bringing your lips to his before continuing to talk within the kiss.

“He’s stringing you along so you can boost his ego. He knows you will always be there for him, and you allow him to use you like that?” 

Like damn that was so mean... do it again 😭 (no wait reminded me at the start when he said reader exposed his degradation kink but... he here dishing it out instead and... I am ashamed to say I liked it 😭)

OH THIS PART I WAS CLUTCHING MY DAMN PEARLS:

“Does he record you? Jerk off to your moans every night? Because I would, Y/N, just for you.” His voice was now by your ear, and when you turned your head to look at him, he pulled you into another hungry kiss, his dick now grazing against your hole. 

“You’re fucking insane,” you bit back into the kiss, and he grinned against your lips, guiding his dick into you as he spoke.

“Psychotic, just for my princess.”

😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 like Lord have mercy pleaseeee psychotic is right

The whole using like a rag doll and then "He made sure to press your face down against the seats, wanting every liquid to fall and stain his car, giving him something to remember you by." LIKE HES SO NASTY 🥴🥴🥴 (also op I thank you for making him thick I just- yea thank you 🙏🏾)

LISTEN I DONT USUALLT LIKE DEGRADATION AT LEAST NOT WITH NAME CALLING BUT THIS AWOKE SMTH IN ME BECAUSE THIS KIND OF POSSESSION YES PLEASE:

“Look at you, the school’s favorite slut. What happens if the recording drops? The whole school would know you’re mine, wouldn’t they?” He pressed his chest against your back, the mesh rubbing against your skin as his lips remained near your ear, forcing you to listen to every word." I stopped breathing fr

Im not even gonna horrify you with any further explanation to what i experienced with this line but just know i loved this line “Look at your pretty cunt taking me in so well. It was so wet for me, wasn’t it? It still is. And guess what? You’re in my car. You belong to me, and my good girl is only now just finding out about it, isn’t she?" 😶😶😶

SORRY TO COPY AND PASTE YET ANOTHER WHOLE SECTION I WAS OBSESSED WITH BUT I JUST NEED YOU TO KNOW THIS WHOLE PART MESSRD WITH MY BRAIN CHEMISTRY!!!!!!!!

"yet the rest of your body was meant for Hyunjae.

“Whose fucking dick is inside of you right now?” He scoffed and pulled on your hair, forcing your head back up so he could directly speak into your ear. “Wake up, Y/N,” he demanded. “You’re mine.”

He dropped you back onto the seat like you were nothing, leaving you completely helpless, your throat void of any words as your eyes closed and met the back of your skull, too fucked out to communicate. You tried reaching for the door handle, just something to hold onto, yet you couldn’t.

“You tell me I’m pitiful, that I’m basically delusional when you’re going to be the reason my car will smell like sex for weeks.”

Your face was forced back into the puddle of liquid you created earlier, being shifted back and forth against the seat as if you were made for his dick and not vice versa.

“It’s crazy how pathetic you are, how willing you are to break yourself down in front of everyone just to have him. That-...fuck…that you’re so convinced he wants you and you two are soulmates.” He dragged his fingers through your hair and grabbed your roots. “You called me, you wanted me, and I have you right now, moaning my name, and you have nothing.” YKNOW WHATS ACTUALLY CRAZY IS HOW CRAZY YOU ARE LEE JAEHYUN!!!!!!

And when he said he won I had nothing else to say like yea you did a number on me op I felt as brain empty as reader 😭😭😭

ANYWAY THAT WAS SUCH A WILD RIDE I LOVED HOW YOU BUILT IT UP OVERALL IT DIDNT FEEL RUSHED IT WAS PACED PERFECTLY YOU CHARACTERISED SO WELL YOU SET EACH SCENE SO WELL IT WAS ALL SO IMMERSIVE (BOTH FORTUNATELY AND UNFORTUNATELY FOR ME BECAUSE SANITY IS HANGING BY A THREAD) ALSO I CANT TELL YOU HOW MUCH I LOVED THE RAWNESS OF THE SCENE OF THEM SITTING ON THE CAR BECAUSE I REALLY LOVE THE FACT THAT YOU DIDNT MAKE READER MAGICALLY LOVE JAE AND THAT YOU MADE READERS FEELINGS SO COMPICATED WITH THE PAIN OF LOSING HER BOYFRIEND BUT STILL LOVING HIM DESPITE THE PAIN LIKE GOD THAT FELT SO RAW AND REAL BUT THEN BY THE END OF IT ALL READER CRAVING HIM IN A NON SEXUAL INTIMATE WAY WANTED TO BE HELD BY HIM AHHHH LIKE YOU HINTED THE POTENTIAL UNDERLYING FEELINGS READER MAY HAVE TO HIM THROUGHOUT OR AT LEAST SHOWED HOW EASY IT IS TO CONFUSED FRUSTRATION AND ANGER WITH HATRED BUT ITS JUST PASSION AND INTENSITY JUST AHHH YOU DID AN AMAZING JOB THANK YOU FOR WRITING THIS

OUR INFERNO | CHAPTER ONE

SYNOPSIS ✧ despite being your greatest archnemesis/rival/enemy/frenemy/whateverthefuck he was, hyunjae had always been by your side. that changed when your boyfriend was brought up, creating a newfound rift in your whateverthefuck relationship with hyunjae

PAIRING ✧ rival!hyunjae x fem!reader

GENRE ✧ high school au, enemies to fwb, angst, smut, fluff(?), humor(?) (these mfs bicker a lot), pining

WARNINGS ✧ 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT — cheating, profanity, mentions of physical fight/bruises, underaged drinking, obsessive/possessive hyunjae : NSFW TAGS :  outdoor/semipublic sex, dubcon recording, spit/drool/tears, oral and fingering (fem receiving), penetration, scratching/ripping, humping, minimal praise, degradation, sub!hyunjae for 0.002 seconds, petnames (princess, good girl, babe/baby, slut)

WORD COUNT ✧ 19k

⋮≡ [ OUR INFERNO EXCLUSIVE ] @deoboyznet @flwoie @sanaxo-o — fill out the form or comment/send an ask/dm to be added!

. . . . . . OUR INFERNO M.LIST ✩ next [ TWO ]

⋮≡ [ PERMANENT TAGLIST ] @armysantiny @stealanity @zzoguri @nyujjan @tinisprout @the-kpop-simp @sunwoosberrie @winterchimez — fill out the form or comment/send an ask/dm to be added!

THE BOYZ MASTERLIST | NAVIGATION

AUTHOR'S NOTE : in honor of my three years of officially stanning the boyz on this very day, let's celebrate with my smut debut and writing comeback 😋 enjoy my loves

PART ONE: CHASING THE SPARK (THE FIRE TETRAHEDRON) — fuel, oxygen, and heat | CHAPTER ONE

“Genuine question.”

“Shoot.”

“Who the fuck does Hyunjae actually think he is?”

Unphased by your up-and-coming rage rant, Kevin resumed snacking on the protein bar he had brought with him. He tossed his free arm over the camera equipment and backpacks sitting next to him on the bench, watching you stride back and forth within one of the many hallways in the recreational center. 

“Well, he is your boss.”

“No, he’s the student executive producer,” you corrected, your legs unwavering as you kept a consistent pace to release your frustrations. Kevin shrugged and tossed one leg over the other, staying relaxed despite the hot fumes emanating from your upright and angered figure. You paused momentarily to look him in the eye. 

“Emphasis on the student,” you clarified.

“Emphasis on the executive, Y/N.”

Baffled at how he was defending your greatest archnemesis (well, more like your greatest frenemy), you ignored his rebuttal and started pacing again. Your steps slowed as you envisioned the sensations you experienced just minutes before, back when you, Kevin, and Hyunjae were at the indoor pool to report for your school’s broadcasting channel. Technically, you were the one reporting and filming while Hyunjae was the subject of interest, and Kevin was there for physical support. 

Chills latched onto your skin as you remembered what it felt like to have Hyunjae’s bare torso looming over you, his eyes peering over your shoulder to glance at your footage. While staring at the camera, his gentle, irregular breaths would continuously hit your skin. Water from the pool would trickle down his hair and into your shirt, reaching your backside. When it happened, you could barely comprehend Hyunjae’s ‘advice’ and instead focused on feeling every cold droplet travel through the crevasses created by your spine. You winced at the thought of that happening again, yet somehow you could still hear his irritating voice near your ear, telling you all the reasons why your B-roll of his lap swimming was ‘trash’ and ‘unusable.’

For a moment, you stood there in the hallway frozen, unsure of how to move, before realizing you were just reliving a moment from earlier and that Hyunjae was still in the locker room changing.

“I’m going to make a complaint,” you declared, turning back towards Kevin for his encouragement. Alternatively, you were met with the sight of your best friend completely failing to conceal his judgment and disapproval towards your suggestion.

“Against Hyunjae? You gotta be kidding, right?”

“Yes,” you answered confidently. “Wait, I mean no, I’m not kidding, but yes, against Hyunjae.”

Kevin eyed you skeptically, trying to decipher why you felt threatened enough to report someone like Hyunjae. You may not have spent all your previous years in high school with an affinity for Hyunjae, but it wasn’t like you hated him either—not in the way you truly loathed others. If that were the case, you wouldn’t spend nearly every day with him, bickering until the sun chose to set.

“Sure, maybe my B-roll was trash, I can attest to that, but that does not give his bitchass the right to not only shit on how ‘awful’ I was doing, but also yank the camera out of my hands and delete all the footage I got because they weren’t ‘perfect enough.’ What kind of psycho is that?” You glanced over at Kevin, trying once again to get him to back you up, but the most he gave was a slight nod. Everything you were spurting was half-mindedly being decoded because he had ended up placing more significance on inhaling protein. Regardless, you continued.

“And you would think, hey! As the student executive producer of a high school broadcasting team, he would understand that no! I indeed do not record half-naked people swimming in a pool, whether it be for a career or a hobby. He should also at least have the decency to not swim seven hundred miles per minute while I’m recording. Of course I’m not going to catch up, especially when he barely told me how he wanted things to be recorded? Isn’t he fucking insane for that? Not to mention all the goddamn splashing because of how fucking long his limbs are—”

“You’re explaining this like I didn’t witness the whole exchange,” Kevin grumbled.

“And you would think he knows, right? That Mr. Executive-slash-Captain-of-the-Swim-Team should either be more considerate when, A, he’s kicking water in my direction when he’s swimming or, B, station me away from the edge of the pool? Just a thought, but fuck me, I guess.”

“Well yeah, but the—”

“Also! Not to mention the camera has the fucking ability to zoom in, so why was there even a need for me to stand by the pool anyway?” You scoffed at the absurdity, almost tempted to cackle like a villain because of it. “The least he could do was tell me how to record it or find a way to adjust and compromise without occasionally soaking me with water on purpose, which I know damn well he was—”

“That’s just how-”

“We have a tripod, for god’s sake!” you exclaimed. By now, Kevin had given up on providing you with his input. He opted to rest against the wall, finishing up whatever he had left of the protein bar, and occasionally would roll his eyes.

“But even then, who the fuck wants to see him swim anyway? We’ll probably only need like…what? A minute of the footage for the B-roll? So why the hell is he treating it like it’s about to be nominated by the goddamn Oscars for Best Picture? He just loves to nitpick and control me like a fucking puppet—”

“Keep talking and you’ll potentially strain your throat,” a new voice interrupted.

You jerked around to find Hyunjae, the culprit of your rant, exiting the locker room with a small duffle bag that contained both his swim gear and his school clothes from earlier in the day. His brown hair was only halfway dry, some strands still stuck to his forehead as he approached where you were pacing.

You halted in your path and stared him down. Hyunjae immediately caught onto the mood you were in, and instead of being shocked or hurt, he grinned.

“You.” 

Your attempt at threatening him with one word made Hyunjae laugh.

“Hey, I’m just looking out for you.”

“Oh here we go again,” Kevin mumbled, tossing the wrapper of the protein bar to the side. He pulled out his phone and went on TikTok, deciding it was more worthy of his attention than listening to you two banter—something he had been experiencing for well over five years.

As a mutual friend of yours and Hyunjae’s since middle school, Kevin understood the frenemy dynamic better than either of you. Eventually, over the long years he had known you both, he learned to leave you two be. 

“What about me, though? Are you going to try and tattletale on me?” Hyunjae feigned sympathy as he gave you an exaggerated pout, tilting his head like a puppy’s. “C’mon. I’m just doing my job.”

“Sorry, but I don’t remember ‘being a dick’ being listed under the requirements for your oh-so-important position of power.” You huffed at him and crossed your arms, choosing to face elsewhere as you rooted the soles of your feet to the ground.

Hyunjae furrowed his brows, his eyes never leaving you, as he addressed the third party within the shared space.

“Kevin, was I being a dick, or is Y/N exaggerating?”

Kevin glanced up at his phone and scrunched his nose at Hyunjae in annoyance.

“Don’t even try to bring me into whatever…this mess is.”

“No, tell him,” you demanded, now looking at him. Your glare was enough to burn Kevin into ashes, but it was nothing compared to Hyunjae’s gaze piercing into your back. Knowing that he never looked away made you shiver, hating how fixated he seemed to be—and seemingly without reason too.

“Listen, I wasn’t being a dick. I was treating you the same way I treat everyone else. I’d honestly argue that you’re just narcissistic and think everything is about you when—”

“Oh wow, thank you for admitting that you’re a dick to everyone else!” You tossed your hands up for dramatic appeal as you spun back around to look at him. He scoffed, but his demeanor was quickly shadowed by a smirk that appeared on his lips, testing you with the arch of his brow.

“Oh really? Do you see anyone else complaining?”

“I’m complaining,” Kevin muttered.

“People don’t complain because they’re scared of you, Sherlock,” you retorted. At this point, Hyunjae had already caught onto your bullshit of making evidence up, and it was why this exchange ended up lasting for as long as it did. Nevertheless, his ego continued to build the more you spoke.

“You’re not scared of me?”

And you keep falling for the bait.

“Why should I? You’re nothing.” You approached him and pressed a finger into his chest, taunting him as you stared straight into his eyes.

Suddenly a competition seemed to have materialized because now you both were locking eyes, too stubborn to look away. 

“One day you’ll wake up and realize your position doesn’t mean shit. You take it too seriously and make everyone’s job your job when this should be a learning experience for the rest of us.”

“And who exactly is ‘us,’ babe?”

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Don’t call me that–”

“And it’s also starting to sound like jealousy to me.” Hyunjae’s eyes finally shifted, but instead of looking away from you like you initially wanted him to, you trailed his line of sight down to your lips. He eyed them shamelessly—technically making you win the unspoken eye contact competition, but at what cost? “I won’t believe you until I receive firm evidence and testimonies from the other students in the club, then maybe I’ll consider your concerns. Deal?”

What you despised most was how well Hyunjae knew and provoked you to get under your skin. He was a raging flame, making your blood boil from both irritation and excitement. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was, but after nearly six years of banter with Hyunjae, you knew damn well you enjoyed every second of it. It was like a nonstop competition, and you were always on the edge of winning.

Maybe it was also because you were so used to him constantly being above you. He was the president of the student council, the swim team’s captain, and specifically the one who snatched the executive position away from you in the broadcasting team, yet somehow you were still able to compete at his level of arrogance and egotism. 

Even though you may never be able to top him in the foreseeable future, you at least knew how to match his fury—his fire, with your own.

“You’re pathetic.” You took a few steps back to gain some distance while his eyes flickered back up to yours. He bit his lip playfully, his smile only growing even wider.

“Woah, Y/N. Exposing my degradation kink so soon?”

“I-...you- w-what?!” you sputtered, your jaw falling slack as Kevin’s head snapped up, staring at the two of you in disgust.

“Get a room—!”

“I’m going to make sure you get degraded from your position, you freak!”

“Not exactly how that word works, princess, but I’m glad you’re at least passionate.” His cooing made you want to slap the living shit out of him, your eyes protruding from their sockets are you glared. 

“Are you fucking bricked up or something right now—?”

“Hey guys,” a woman’s voice called out. Your heads turned to look at the end of the hallway, catching one of the recreational center’s workers waving in your general direction. She pressed her lips together and smiled, attempting to be as professional and understanding as possible. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but is it okay if you guys turn it down a notch?”

You and Hyunjae both nodded and whispered apologies, feeling like kids who just got scolded for shoving paintbrushes down the drain. Fortunately, the worker’s smile radiated genuine warmth and consideration, providing you some sort of reassurance that you guys weren’t too much of a disturbance (even though you guys totally were).

“You two are the most childish fuckers I know,” Kevin deadpanned, finally shoving his phone away as he switched between looking at you and the man by your side. His eyebrows bunched up.

“And apparently horny too.”

“I would move across the country if it meant I never had to see him again,” you grumbled, striding back to the pile of equipment to pick up your backpack and the bag with all your reporting necessities (boring script, stationary, and a couple of notebooks shared with all the broadcasting students to collect notes and inspiration in). 

“Hello? I’m still here.”

“Look at that. He already misses me.”

“I’m going to hurl,” Kevin unnecessarily announced, and Hyunjae’s face soured.

“Ew.”

“Exactly. That’s how you two make me feel whenever you guys are together.” Kevin got up on his feet and grabbed the wrapper to shove into one of his pockets (no littering, kids) before outstretching his limbs dramatically. 

“I swear I developed back pain from always listening to you guys bicker.”

“Or, hot take,” Hyunjae interjected, “maybe it’s because you’re always sitting with your back arching forward like it belongs in the Arches National Park–”

“Yeah yeah, shut the fuck up.” Kevin waved him off with his hand and rolled his eyes. “I came here to help carry stuff, not listen to your bullshit.”

He picked up the bag that contained the camera and passed it to Hyunjae. He offered to hold one more thing, but with only his backpack and the tripod left, Kevin didn’t see much need for his friend’s assistance. 

Kevin then faced you, his face stern and rid of emotion.

“You too, Y/N,” he stated seriously. “None of this ‘he said this,’ ‘he said that,’ ‘please fuck me’ bullshit from you either.”

You gaped at him, arms wrapped tightly around the crew’s bag.

“Now why the hell do you think—”

“Zip it.”

Without giving you much of an opportunity to continue, Kevin sped off in front of you, ready to leave the building. You couldn’t even look at Hyunjae as heat rushed to your cheeks, struggling to trail after Kevin’s speedy steps.

Despite carrying heavier items, Hyunjae caught up to you with ease. You wanted nothing more than for Hyunjae’s feet to either slow down or speed up tremendously, but of course he purposely chose to walk by your side, attached to you by the hip.

“He sees it,” Hyunjae sing-songed. “Everyone sees it.”

“Sees what?” you snorted, oblivious to what he was indicating.

“That you want me,” he replied nonchalantly.

The moment you two stepped outside the doors of the center, you stopped to face him, trying to confirm what exactly he was implying.

“You can’t be serious.”

Hyunjae, who also stopped with your steps, shrugged.

“You’re the one in denial.”

Realizing that he was serious, you felt every muscle in your body tense up.

“Hyunjae,” you stated firmly. “I have a boyfriend, remember?”

Instead of receiving something witty from Hyunjae like normal, his relaxed facial features suddenly scrambled into one that expressed remote shock. His lips were slightly parted, eyes searching yours for any hint that indicated you were lying or messing around with him, but you were serious.

The aggressive playfulness from earlier had evaporated faster than boiling water, and you watched as he became stilled. Your heart started pounding, anxiety creeping up within you due to not being able to read Hyunjae like you normally do.

“Since when?” he asked. His voice was quiet, his tone firmer, and by now, Kevin was already by his car, too far from the two of you to understand what was going on. Hell, even you could barely understand what was happening.

“Earth to Hyunjae?” you joked, nervously laughing in an attempt to eliminate the newfound tension looming in the atmosphere. “It’s always been Jiwoong, remember?”

For a moment, Hyunjae could feel his mouth drying up. All his thoughts were held captive in his throat, and his lips remained parted as if they weren’t meant to collide at all. He stared at you like you had just teleported in front of him.

“Y/N,” he stated calmly, “he cheated on you.”

Your initial response was to get defensive, claiming that you already knew that because hell, it was your relationship, but then your brain acknowledged the true elephant in the conversation.

“How-...how the hell do you know about that?”

“I- You know word just-…That doesn’t matter. What matters is why in the world—”

“It was a mistake, okay?”

“A mistake?” As Hyunjae’s brows raised, so did his tone. “You know, people—decent people, don’t make mistakes like that.” 

Seeing how Hyunjae was gritting his teeth, how his eyes were locked on yours, built up a foreign frustration within you. Something about the way Hyunjae was behaving felt like he was trying to control you. 

All the rage from before had now returned, yet this time, there was no more leniency from you—not when Hyunjae was being more condescending than he had ever been.

“You know nothing, Hyunjae, so frankly, I really don’t care about what you think about my relationship with my boy-”

“You’re still with him??”

“Look,” you snapped. “Just because you have the luxury of crushing my hopes and dreams on a daily basis, it does not give you the right to dictate what’s wrong or right about my love life and my decisions. Understood?”

And just like how you always are, Hyunjae refused to shut up.

“How is it dictating when it’s common sense to dump a shitty person?” He dropped the bags onto the ground, and not once did he look away from you. “He’s never treated you well either, and you know that—”

“It’s not your decision to make,” you repeated. You could feel the three key elements of creating a fire stir up within you. You had the fuel, the oxygen, and the heat, and Hyunjae was the chemical chain reaction that would set it off. “How dense can you fucking be to not back down?”

“He cheated on you,” he reasserted, and there was a rage in his eyes that you had never once encountered. “He’s done so many shitty things, and he hasn’t changed–”

“Again, none of your fucking business–”

“And I’m pretty sure I saw—”

“I am not going to repeat myself-”

“Can’t you just listen to what I-”

“Drop it.” You were seconds away from yelling at him, ready to unleash all your anger because never once has someone threatened your love life—Jiwoong, the man you considered your soulmate. Your flame had officially engulfed his, and all Hyunjae could do was stare at you in disbelief and disappointment.

Turning to look away, you gazed up into the sky and scoffed, not understanding why tears had begun to pool up in your eyes. At the end of the day, Hyunjae meant nothing to you—you didn’t even consider him a friend.

After moments of experiencing what it was like to be suffocated by a tension so unbearable, you eventually found a way to ground yourself. 

“I can’t blame him, you know,” you whispered, using the back of your hand to wipe away your tears. “We were angry. He just–...he needed an outlet, and at that time, that outlet happened to not be me, okay?”

Hyunjae stared at you, his mouth desperate to say something, anything, to make you see what he sees—a relationship that isn’t meant to be. That you didn’t deserve to be treated this way. Maybe you were no more than an acquaintance to him, but he knew you have always deserved better. 

“He isn’t someone worth fighting for.”

“And that’s none of your business,” you scowled.

“It isn’t right—”

“Stay in your fucking lane, Jae.”

Hyunjae clamped his mouth shut, and the sight of you completely breaking down tore him apart. Possibly it was all the years you spent together growing up, constantly arguing, yet he knew he was always one to look out for you.

You sucked in a cheek, gnawing at it as your chest urged for you to forgive him, to apologize for lashing out without much notice, but in the end, you prioritized your pride over him.

Not only was Hyunjae’s persistence a stab to your heart, but you suspected that Kevin was the one who told him. By spilling your secrets, it was as if Kevin saw the knife that impaled you and yanked it out of your chest, causing you to bleed to your death.

“I’m done with this conversation,” you muttered, dropping the bag in your arms to the ground by his feet. Your plans had changed to you walking home alone, wanting nothing to do with the other two boys for the next hour or so.

When you turned around to walk away, you knew Hyunjae was going to try and say something. You knew him best whenever he was at his worst, so you spun around to face him for the last time that day to cut him off.

“Never fucking cross that line with me again, got it?”

And with that, you left. 

//

Kevin apologized to you the morning after.

He normally drove you to school, and you debated getting into his car when he showed up. Thankfully you chose to do otherwise because the second you stepped inside, Kevin was apologizing profusely. He talked about how anxious he was all night when Hyunjae told him what happened, and he wouldn’t have known what to do if you didn’t forgive him. Obviously you did, and the rest of the car ride was spent with him explaining his side of the story.

According to Kevin, he only told Hyunjae about how you got cheated on because it seemed like Hyunjae already knew. As Kevin recalled the whole scene, you two assessed the signs, such as how Hyunjae didn’t provide any sort of reaction when Kevin dropped the news. In fact, it had seemed like Hyunjae had brought it up to Kevin instead.

Regardless, it became the last of your worries because all that mattered was that you were back to being on good terms with your best friend.

But avoiding Hyunjae felt like lighting a match in the rain. 

It was your agonizing reality for the next two months, and although you could argue that you had gotten closer to your boyfriend during the supposed ‘Hyunjae Drought,’ you were still plagued with him being everywhere around you.

He was in all your classes, and you never truly processed the extent of how involved Hyunjae had always been throughout high school with you. You weren’t on the swim team, but you were stuck with him during meetings for both the broadcasting team and student council. 

Yet it all felt so different.

Unless he was called on, Hyunjae would talk much less unprovoked and would never look at you during meetings. When he would address the entire team, he would glance at you for a split second before looking elsewhere, no longer watching you like a hawk.

You had also gotten quieter because without Hyunjae to banter with, you recognized that you barely had friends in any of those classes either. 

There was no longer a fight between your flames, and you two kept as much distance as possible. You were thankful that there hadn’t been an instance that interrupted that, such as being forced to record more B-roll with him, and you could only hope that the rest of your senior year would remain the same. 

Then you would never have to see him in college.

Now you were back to being the mediocre student that faded into the background. People knew your name at best, but none have ever tried to become your friend aside from Kevin. No matter how involved you tried to get, the closest you were to anyone was a classmate. 

Hyunjae had always overshadowed you too, and for the first time in years, you were detached from his fumes—yet somehow, some way, the smoke from his fire would remain in your lungs, continuing to suffocate you even more than it had before. It didn’t give you that breath of fresh air of new friends or a better life; instead, it helped you realize that you didn’t matter. It was a miracle that you even scored Jiwoong as your boyfriend.

But then that begged the question: why did Hyunjae bother spending his time ridiculing you?

From the very beginning, you had always meant something to him, and you couldn’t pinpoint how or why. When there was no competition in academics, he treated it as if there was. Every time you ranted, he would listen, whether it be about him or something else. Even when you talked about how your chicken from the cafeteria was burnt, he would give you his own before calling you stupid for not noticing until you sat down.

He never shrugged you off like you were nothing or shut you down because your emotions were invalid. He entertained you each time with ease, and most importantly, he knew when to respect your boundaries. Hyunjae was probably the most mindful person you knew and could often tell when you were distressed or needed another form of reaction from him.

He knew when to stop.

Yet when it came to the one instance involving Jiwoong, he crossed the line multiple times. Why?

“Hyunjae isn’t here today.”

“Huh?”

“Didn’t show up for a single class.”

Kevin watched you play with your food with a fork, rolling the cold, barely spherical peas around and into the stale rice.

“That’s not like him,” he replied.

“Yeah.”

“I wonder why.”

“I wonder too.” 

After the driest possible conversation in existence, you sighed and dropped your fork into your tray.

“I need to stop forgetting to pack myself lunch. This shit makes me lose my appetite, I swear. We should call the police and tell them the food they’re serving is illegal and a disgrace to this country.” 

“Keep it away before I lose my appetite too.” 

You didn’t react nor respond to what Kevin said, letting the conversation rot as you pouted at your food. The cafeteria was unusually louder today, making it easier to space out into thought.

Kevin took out his sandwich with a wide grin and started eating, grateful he never had to deal with what the school was feeding thanks to his mom, but eventually his eyes shifted over to you. You were unmoving with your gaze locked onto an empty spot on the table, so after moments of debating between asking you what’s wrong and ignoring you to devour his lunch, he opted to set his sandwich aside and stared straight at you.

“Why are you thinking about him?”

That was enough to garner your attention, your head snapping up to stare at your best friend like he was the craziest person you knew for mentioning Hyunjae, much less suggesting that your mind was wrapped around him.

“What?”

“Hyunjae. With his perfect attendance, a day without him should be a blessing, yet you brought up how he didn’t show up today and then moped harder than anyone I’ve ever seen mope. You should be over the moon, dancing on the tables and stealing people’s food, not-...” Kevin waved a finger at you, “whatever this is. You seem out of it.”

“Well it’s not because of Hyunjae, I’ll tell you that,” you snorted. Your eyes fell back down to your tray, and the more you looked at it, the more nauseous you got. You scrunched your nose. “If anything, it’s probably because of this shit food.”

Kevin rolled his eyes before tearing his sandwich into halves. You perked at the sight and ogled the half Kevin taunted you with. You were about to thank him and take it into your possession before Kevin jerked back his arm, making you whine.

“Throw away your food, then I’ll give you it.”

“Fine,” you grumbled. As Kevin returned to his delicious, most scrumptious, packed lunch you had ever seen, you picked up your tray and walked it to the nearest trash can. As you dropped the whole thing inside, you heard your name being called.

“Y/N!”

You whipped around to check to see who it was and smiled at the sight of Eunseo waving at you. You wouldn’t consider her a good friend, but you knew her well enough since she was the vice president of the student council.

She ran over to you with a stack of paper in her arms, relieved to have caught you. 

“Y/N, hi! I’m so glad I found you. I was scared I wouldn’t because of how packed it is.”

She flashed you her usual glowing smile, and you noticed that she was a bit more giddy than usual, making you question why she was choosing to talk to you in the first place. All your conversations normally took place before, during, and after student council meetings, so this was slightly out of character.

“What’s up?” you asked. As you looked at her, you noticed how her outfit was slightly more put together than it normally was. She had on a cute top that suited her chest perfectly and a skirt that you had never seen her wear. 

“Your outfit’s really cute today.”

“Really?!” Her bright demeanor then faded into concern. “Wait, is it too noticeable or out of the blue? Is it bad?”

“No, no. Not at all!” you reassured. “It’s just the right amount of perfect.”

“Great! God, that means the world coming from you. It’s because!...” She stopped to glance around, making sure that no one was eavesdropping, before taking a step closer to whisper. “It’s because I was finally asked out on a date by my crush!”

She could barely contain her excitement, holding back a squeal with her bottom lip latched between her teeth. Her sunshine-like energy made you grin.

“That’s great! I’m glad you’re making progress.” Your eyebrows pinched as you tried to recall the last time Eunseo had updated you about her crush. “You’ve been pining after him for so long—whoever ‘him’ is, anyway.”

The question of who Eunseo liked had always gone unanswered. She never told anyone, not even the ones who knew her best, but she loved gushing about her mystery crush to everyone she knew. All people really knew, you included, was how down bad she was.

A part of you wondered if it was someone you knew—someone pretty like Juyeon or well-known like…Hyunjae.

“Oh, I wish I could tell you, and maybe I will if things go really well and we become official!” She squealed and hopped in her spot, unable to resist giving you a half-hug with her free arm. “This is so exciting, Y/N!”

“I’m really happy for you.” Your smile was genuine until you thought about why she was looking for you, starting to doubt that she called you over just so she could tell you about her date. 

“I’ll let you know how it goes, swear. But! That aside, I also have something for you.”

You knew it.

Your brows raised, and when you didn’t catch on, she gestured to the papers in her arms with guilt.

“I know this is kind of a dick move, and I’m really really sorry, but I promised to put up fliers for prom today. My date is right after my last class.” Her frown had deepened, and for a split second, you found yourself sympathizing with her because who wanted to let down such a cheerful personality, especially when this was life-changing for her?

“So you want me to do it?”

“Exactly! Please, that would be great. It shouldn’t take too long, too.”

You thought about how you would have to give up an evening of playing on your switch or extra time to study for an upcoming exam, but you knew it was your duty as secretary to help out whenever needed.

Not to mention that it would also make you a decent friend not to hold Eunseo back from her soon-to-be love life despite her poor date planning. If you were in her shoes, you would have wanted her to do the same for you too.

“Sure,” you accepted. “Why not?”

“You’re the best, seriously!” She handed you the fliers as she began to fill you in on the extra details.

“I already told Mr. Barajas that I wasn’t feeling well and that you were going to do it, so he said it all worked out and to not worry about it,” she rambled, happy to give the extra weight (both literally and metaphorically) to you. “I just printed these out, so everything should be perfect to go. Oh, and don’t worry about any extras! Just set them on Barajas’s desk when you’re finished. Hyunjae will also be in 142 with tape ready for you.”

The mention of the forbidden name nearly made every cell in your body halt. 

“What?”

Eunseo tilted her head at you, confused, before finally realizing.

“Oh crap, I forgot! I’m so sorry, I really did forget you guys weren’t on good terms. I hope it’s okay that he’s helping you out. I mean, he’s supposed to, but it was meant for him and me to do it together, not you two, so…God, I’m really sorry Y/N.”

Before you could even react to the newfound information, she continued.

“I really have to go now. Thank you again! I promise I’ll make it up to you!” And with her rosy pink cheeks and a stunning shade of red on her lips, she basically skipped away and waved goodbye to you with a smile, so you reciprocated it with an awkward one of your own. 

When she turned her back, your smile immediately dropped and you sighed heavily.

“Have fun on your date,” you mumbled, your eyes falling to fliers in your arms. As you skimmed the one on top, you noticed it was to promote going to prom while also including a big QR code to vote for who should be your school’s prom king and queen. You expected it since it was the last meeting’s topic of discussion, but what you weren’t aware of was who were listed as nominees.

There were eight names listed under ‘Prom Court,’ and while you expected Hyunjae’s, Eunseo’s, and your boyfriend’s names on it, your jaw nearly hit the ground at the sight of your own. 

//

With every passing class period, your anxiety would kick up a notch.

The dread of talking to the face you had been avoiding for two months engulfed you, and it caused you to develop the urge to ditch your current class to go hunt for Jacob, the student council’s historian. You wanted nothing more than to dump the stack of fliers into his arms, and knowing Jacob, he wouldn’t ask any questions. Hell, you were certain that if you asked him nicely, he would do it for you because of how naturally sweet and endearing he was.

But the guilt of ditching your secretary duties kept picking at your skin, and besides, all you had to do was treat Hyunjae like a colleague. That should be easy, right?

As you suffered through the last few minutes of class and your teacher’s incessant ramblings about the upcoming exam, your thoughts drifted over to what would happen the moment you stepped into room 142.

Hyunjae hadn’t shown up to a single class all day, yet he was expected to set up fliers after school. As your thoughts snowballed, you arrived at the baseless conclusion that maybe Eunseo wasn’t aware that Hyunjae was absent today, therefore someone else (like Jacob) would take over. 

Suddenly, your back had straightened with feigned interest in your teacher’s last few words. Something about Jacob being there instead of Hyunjae had excited you; it felt like you were free and that the universe was listening to your prayers. The gamble of seeing whether it would be Hyunjae or Jacob (or literally anyone else) had your right leg bouncing, eyes on the clock, and when the bell rang, you shot up from your seat, backpack over your shoulders and fliers in your arms, before dashing out of the classroom.

You sped down the hallway to 142, Mrs. Zhang’s room for Chemistry, bug-eyed, before having your delusions crushed at the sight of Hyunjae’s stupidly large height leaning against one of the counters. Your feet stood glued to the ground by the doorway, your eyes locked onto him. 

Covered from head to toe in sweats, Hyunjae was immersed in whatever was on his phone, scrolling through something as his brown curls peeked out from inside his hood. Without any hint of him acknowledging your presence, your shattered hopes slowly began to rebuild.

Maybe if you were quiet enough, you could sneak out with the tape and do everything on your own, avoiding him at all. Actually, scratch that. You didn’t even need the tape. All you had to do was go to another teacher’s room, steal their tape for half an hour, and then return it with ease.

The plan was effortless, and you mentally smacked your forehead for not thinking of it earlier. Right as you were about to execute it, your backpack slammed against the doorframe as you turned on your heels. 

“Nice try.”

You groaned out of embarrassment (and slight pain) and forced yourself to turn around. Hyunjae’s phone was now face down on the counter, and his arms were crossed over his abdomen. His face remained stoic as his eyes met yours, wielding a tension you didn’t recognize.

Now that you could properly look at him, you noticed a few details that you hadn’t before, such as the small tear on his lower lip and the bandaid on his cheekbone. If you looked long enough, you could catch light patches of purple across his skin, and the sight hindered all your thoughts, your brain too occupied with piecing together how he ended up like this. 

“What happened?” you blurted, your gaze shooting up from his lips to his eyes.

Hyunjae staggered at your suddenty, but he managed to keep himself stilled, his brows pinching. 

“What do you mean?”

Even if Hyunjae didn’t mean to, his question became an invitation for your unfiltered thoughts to spill out of your mouth.

“You didn’t show up for any of our classes today,” you began, “but now you’re here? For some stupid fliers? You’re barely dressed properly like you normally are, your hair isn’t straightened, you look pale, Jae, and what’s up with the bruises or the bandaid on your cheek–”

“Are you seriously psychoanalyzing me?” he asked with a scoff. There was no humor in his tone. Instead, it looked as if he was irritated, perhaps even more than you were. 

Hyunjae barely met your eyes, and his arms closed himself off from you. 

“What–?”

“You’re evaluating me like I’m some sort of lab project, Y/N.”

“No, no I’m not,” you rejected. “I’m just saying things are a little off.” You kept your eyes firm on his, even as he pushed himself off the counter with his phone and made his way over to you. “And you know, you really can’t blame me for being somewhat worried when one, you don’t show up, and two, you look like a whole mess—”

“Just hand over the fliers—” he interrupted, gritting his teeth as he outstretched his arm in your direction. You dodged him by turning your body 180 degrees and stood your ground.

“What happened?” you repeated, this time more firmly.

Hyunjae looked at you, a blank expression on his face, before turning back around to grab the roll of tape left on the teacher’s desk. When he returned, he shoved it into your arms while simultaneously stealing half the stack. You protested with an exclaimed ‘Hey!’ yet he didn’t bat an eye and skimmed over the contents of the flier on top.

Bothered by his lack of response, you frowned and made sure to block the doorway, refusing to let him leave until you received answers.

“Why are you acting like this? Pretending that I’m not even—”

“I’ll do upstairs, you do downstairs,” he muttered.

“Did you get into a fight? Why weren’t you here today? Why are you here now—”

“You’d think you’d know,” he finally answered, pushing past you like you weighed none less than a feather.

Your brain had fully malfunctioned at that point, unable to decipher what he meant as Hyunjae walked off to the nearest staircase. As his footsteps echoed down the hall, you thought about what he was implying yet came to no resolution. Did he assume that you were caught up in your school’s latest gossip? Or that you were the main admin for his biggest fan page on Instagram?

The idea made you snort, and you scowled bitterly at his childish attitude. It wasn’t like you were a complete stranger intruding on his personal life—hell, you felt like you deserved an explanation because of how you were forced to do this with him. 

As you stormed off past the remaining lingering students to the nearest bulletin board, you questioned how you were going to do this on your own. 

You had put up fliers countless times in the past few years yet never alone. Luckily, you had a general idea of where the fliers should go when it came to the school’s hallways, but as you approached your first destination, you struggled with ripping off pieces of tape while holding the stack at the same time. It would’ve been easier with a partner by your side, one who either did the tape ripping or placing of the fliers, but you weren’t desperate enough to fall into the role of a helpless princess in need of her pretty (useless) prince. 

After some trial and error, you found a method that consisted of setting the stack on the ground occasionally so you could rip off pieces of tape. Then you would slap said pieces of tape onto your wrist, having them readily available as you put up a few fliers at a time.

Although slightly time-consuming, it was working well and kept you at a steady pace until you heard crashing footsteps behind you from afar. Without paying any mind to it, you bit back your curiosity in order to focus on the wall in front of you, but then you made the mistake of taking a step back, bumping into the person who was sprinting. 

You lost your balance and fell forward before catching yourself shortly after. However, the fliers had already flown out of your arms, scattering across and down the long hallway.

Ready to curse out the offender for running down the hallway, you were surprised when you saw that it was Eunseo behind you, pouring out apologies while a loopy grin was smacked onto her face.

You steadied your anger and told her it was okay, getting down onto your knees to collect all the fliers. Her ‘sorry’s could only go so far with her smeared lipstick, a dazed gaze, and her hair holding the mold to someone else’s (presumably her crush’s) hands in them, but you still excused her, knowing that she was over the moon right now.

“It’s okay, Eunseo, I promise.” You forced out a chuckle as you crawled to scavenge for the ones that flew a few feet away.

“I really didn’t mean to,” she pouted, but it was shortly followed up with bubbly giggles. “God, Y/N, can you believe this? Oh, it’s going so well! I think I love him, I do.”

“Good for you,” you grumbled, hoping that she didn’t hear it as you continued to move down the hallway, hating how far the fliers had escaped from you. You also hated how she just stood there without intent on helping you at all. 

“I have to really go now. Got volleyball practice soon, but I think I’m seeing him tomorrow too!” She waved you goodbye.

And just like that, she continued running off. 

You stared at how you were only able to collect half the mess, hating how Eunseo had somehow managed to delay you even further from being in the comfort of your bed. You were also salty at how her date was taking place at the school, wishing she could’ve dragged him around while she taped stuff up before getting dick-downed of some sort.

Deciding that she and her business weren’t worth your time, you continued to pick everything up as quickly as you could, wanting nothing more than to go home.

When you finally finished collecting every last flier, you were prepared to get back into the groove of things before feeling your phone vibrate in the side pocket of your backpack. Wondering if it was something important, you took it out and beamed at the idea of it being a new message from Jiwoong.

Dating him felt like falling in love with him all over again whenever he texted. Your heart would pound in your chest when you thought about him and explode whenever he gave you his attention and time. You were addicted to him, especially knowing that he was yours after liking him since middle school.

So to say you were disappointed was far worse than an understatement. It was from a number you hadn’t saved yet always recognized and undoubtedly remembered by heart.

Of course it was Hyunjae.

You had Hyunjae’s phone number due to previous class projects and group chats, but you had never once saved it because you thought he was undeserving of being a contact in your phone. Nonetheless, with how the years have passed and how much his number infiltrates every group chat you were in, it was only fair that your brain had unintentionally memorized all ten digits.

The message he sent consisted of him saying that he was done with the fliers, and you rolled your eyes. Even after the way he treated you earlier, he still chose to let you know and brag about how fast he was. 

You shoved your phone away vigorously, ready to return to your slapping-fliers-on-walls duty, before perking at the sound of footsteps behind you once more.

Automatically assuming it was Eunseo or another student staying after for a club or sport, you were stunned when you heard his voice. 

“You’re not even halfway yet?”

In no fucking universe are you turning around; not for him.

“Go gloat somewhere else,” you snapped. The next flier you taped up was nearly slammed onto the wall, but Hyunjae was left unphased by your sudden outburst. He stood next to you and remained quiet, even when you left to place the next flier a few feet away on the opposite wall.

When he didn’t follow, you sighed out of relief, yet somehow you couldn’t help but peek at him, eyeing his hands that were tucked into the pockets of his sweatpants. He was staring straight at the lopsided flier you had put up, and when you decided you had enough of peering at him, he was back by your side.

 “What are you doing?” you grumbled. He was the one who pushed you away, yet now here he was, glued to your side like how he was two months ago. 

“You’re taking too long.”

“I had a mishap,” you explained, “but that’s none of your concern.” The lines on your forehead bunched up, and you waved him off, bending down to place the stack on the ground. Figuring it wasn’t weird at all, you continued your method of ripping off pieces of tape and slapping it onto your wrist.

And Hyunjae was totally judging.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Just go home.”

Despite being on the ground and sitting on your heels, you could physically feel the heat on the back of your head due to his eyes burning a hole into your skull, and for a split second, you knew exactly what he was thinking.

“I can do it myself,” you explained. 

“What are you even doing?” 

“Can you just go?” You picked up the stack once again as you rose to your feet, doing your best to avoid whatever look was on Hyunjae’s face. He was probably stifling a laugh or keeping his expression smug, but when you did cave and peek, his face was still solemn, his eyes on your wrist with concern.

“You’re struggling.”

“Thank you for your observation, Mr. Obvious,” you retorted.

“Let me do it.”

Taken aback, you whipped your head over to his direction.

“You’re kidding.”

“You don’t even want to be here,” he reasoned through gritted teeth. “Just go, and you can thank me later.”

“Thank you?!” Appalled at his audacity, you couldn’t help but laugh out of disbelief. “Seriously, Hyunjae? You want me to thank you for stealing my job? Again? You can’t be fucking serious.”

“Because you can’t take any criticism ever, or in this case, any form of help, so just let me do it.”

Hyunjae was eerily calm about the whole ordeal, his energy far from matching yours.

“I do take help,” you refuted. “I just don’t take yours, and neither do I need it, too.”

“You’re so goddamn stubborn.” And within a blink of an eye, he had managed to snatch the stack of fliers from you. 

“Hey!” you yelled, feeling as if it was deja vu from earlier (you really needed to step up your defense), and reached out to take them back, but he was quick to turn his body, shielding them from you.

“Give me the tape and go,” he urged, emotionless. The Hyunjae in front of you now was someone you truly didn’t recognize because the Hyunjae you knew would have made fun of you and held the fliers above your head, teasing you for being so weak.

Yet he stood still, creating a barrier between you and the duty that was forced upon you. You didn’t want to be here anyway, yet you were so insistent on making sure Hyunjae wasn’t stealing your work again. You weren’t incapable, and you hated how he always managed to be faster.

Even now, he was miles away from being playful with you, and yet he still had a way to shove it in your face.

“Hyunjae, I swear—”

“Give me the tape, and you can run off to your little boyfriend waiting for you by the entrance.” 

Your lips parted at his words, eyes wide as you worked to comprehend his words. You questioned how he knew about Jiwoong’s whereabouts, how he knew that Jiwoong was waiting and that you didn’t, but knowing that he was serious, you reluctantly gave up and dropped the roll of tape on the ground, forcing him to pick it up. 

You were sick of constantly arguing with him, and even if he was lying about Jiwoong, at least you would be away from Hyunjae. There was no point in fighting for your dignity anymore, not when Hyunjae’s narcissism was insufferable.

By walking away with heavy and quick strides, you hoped he felt humiliated by how poorly he was treating you—how he had always treated you like this.

As much as you wanted it to be true, you hoped Hyunjae was lying just so you had more evidence against his self-absorbed and shitty personality, but alas, you found Jiwoong standing precisely where Hyunjae said he was.

Regardless, all stress and frustrations had lifted from your being, and you called out to your boyfriend with a smile that would make your cheeks ache in minutes. 

“Woong!” You waved your hands with a small bounce in your steps as you rushed over to him.

Your boyfriend’s head shot up, surprised to see you. His utter shock quickly switches to one of sheer happiness, tucking his device away before opening his arms for you.

“Hey, baby!”

You tossed yourself into his embrace, hugging him tight after pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

“What are you doing here?” With your face in his neck, your voice came out muffled, and it made Jiwoong laugh.

“Had to stay after to discuss my grades with a teacher, then I decided to stay back a bit for you.” He cooed and kissed the top of your head, holding you incredibly close. When you pulled back, his hands had moved from behind your backpack to your hips instead, holding them as you stared up at him.

“You were waiting for me?” you asked, eyes wide with stars in them.

“Of course I was, baby.” 

You were radiating, feeling happier than ever. The last time you saw Jiwoong was a week ago, and with your clashing schedules, you two very rarely get the opportunity to make plans. Your hands rested atop his shoulders, and when he pulled you in for a kiss, you smiled.

But then it fell.

Something felt off.

//

If someone were to inquire Hyunjae about who his heart belonged to, your name would be his answer—whether he intended to say it or not. 

Hyunjae had always been considered the school’s favorite. His intelligence may not be up to par with others, but his authority was what made him a prominent member of your high school. Some blame it on his looks, but most were aware enough to know that wasn’t the case.

Hyunjae knew how to think on his feet, and his problem-solving skills outwitted everyone within his grade level. Reaching tranquillity had never been an issue for him, allowing him to be levelheaded while making decisions. He emitted an aura that made classmates truly listen to him and the ideas he shared, and overall, it made him a great contender to lead every group and organization he was in. 

Additionally, Hyunjae’s heart was what won over most people. His lack of vulnerability seemed to be his only flaw, but it was an obstacle he could overlook when it came to empathizing with others. By actively being involved in the community through volunteering and holding fundraisers, everyone could recognize Hyunjae’s devotion to hope for humanity. 

All these traits were what led Hyunjae up onto the pedestal and the public eye, a household name for all families in the district. Titles and awards naturally gravitated towards him throughout the years, resulting in him winning the vote as president of your school’s student council and enough scholarships to provide him a full ride at most universities.

It was safe to say that competition against Lee Hyunjae was sparse, and you were no different. 

Your grades would teeter around his standard, hence how you two collectively ended up in the same classes, but aside from that, you had nothing else that could compare to what he was capable of.

Except for one thing; your fury.

There was an inferno inside you at all times, and instead of your body shielding off your heart with steel, people around you would come to find out that your heart was the reason for that large blaze of fire, possessing a passion unlike any other. 

Hyunjae had never once seen a peer with as much fight as you. It was a trait only you encapsulated, one that you weren’t afraid to express. You stood up for yourself and your beliefs, and it was easy to pick fights with him when he had been troubling you from the very moment you two were assigned to sit next to each other in seventh-grade algebra. 

Hyunjae yearned for you ever since, his only want being your attention. You gave him the drive to succeed in high school and thrive in his senior year, and he was positive that he wouldn’t be doing this well without a reason to show off in front of you. He wanted your praise, your acknowledgment, but he loved the chase the most. 

Unfortunately, that was the exact reason he ended up here.

The chase was what made him fall for every part of you, wanting nothing more than your lips on his and the ability to have you by his side at all times, but it was also what landed you with your current boyfriend.

It was like his life was a video game with God giving him the hardest difficulty setting by making sure you were obsessed with someone undeserving of all that he wanted. There wasn’t even a chance of you two possibly being friends in your eyes. Meanwhile, Hyunjae would argue that you two had more chemistry than any other couple in your class, but that hope was crushed, shredded, and stomped on when he found out you still devoted your love to Jiwoong.

Regardless, it didn’t change who you were as a person. Your heart was still just as large and beautiful, and your drive to succeed hadn’t lessened. The bickering never faltered, and it wasn’t like Hyunjae was opposed whenever you expressed disgust at the thought of him being turned on because of you (and that was because he found the idea of you thinking about him hot—yes, his expectations were that low). 

So it was why after two months of almost zero to no contact, you treating him as if those months didn’t exist created the largest dilemma he had ever faced. He spent the next week thinking about your intentions and why you seemed to care so much, specifically right after when Hyunjae had willed himself to believe that he meant jackshit to you. You effortlessly toyed with his heart, leaving him in everlasting misery, while you seemed to do completely fine.

What was a typical and ideal lifestyle for you was a nightmare and tormenting hellhole for Hyunjae. He didn’t just crave the warmth and comfort from your undying flames.

He wanted to burn.

Insanity engulfed him on the days spent without you, leaving him to wonder why you had to make things extensively worse by pointing out his absence or how he had put less effort into his hair. Why did it seem like the concern you expressed was genuine? Why pretend that you cared for him as much as he cared for you?

He was going insane—so insane that he drove to a college party with three other friends in his sedan on a Wednesday night. 

It was being held by a fraternity he and his friends were far more than familiar with thanks to Jongin, an upperclassman he met in his sophomore year and remained friends with since then. The beginning of the senior year marked the origin of parties and hook-ups in weak sporadic attempts to get over you. 

At this rate, Hyunjae could argue that he was more experienced than half of the current college freshmen class. Getting girls in bed was the easiest part; the hardest part was forgetting about you. From what was a method created to move on from you became one that prepared him for when you wanted sex with him. 

But with your constant longing for Jiwoong, Hyunjae made sure that this party would be different.

Although accustomed to having sex with various women, Hyunjae had never been one to drink. This was a fact about him that raised brows, specifically Jongin’s when he first tried urging Hyunjae with a drink, but tonight he vowed to change that. He was normally their designated driver, but when Hyunjae informed Sangyeon of his plan, the elder was more than delighted to remain sober so Hyunjae could get a taste of alcohol.

“Hey, man! It’s about time!” Jongin exclaimed the instant he found out about Hyunjae’s willingness to drink, pulling a fresh bottle out of the cooler specifically for his friend.

“That’s what I told him!” Sangyeon projected his voice over the music, giving Hyunjae a supportive pat on the back.

Hyunjae rolled his eyes at his friends’ remarks and thanked Jongin for the beer, hanging around by the counter as the three conversed and caught up. The two laughed at the way Hyunjae’s face scrunched up at the taste, Sangyeon shoving him lightly with the claim that Hyunjae was being overdramatic. 

With his earlier mindless decision of tossing on a mesh long-sleeve shirt over his black tank top, Hyunjae had attracted another partygoer by his side momentarily after his first sip. She wrapped her arms around one of his and inserted herself into the conversation with hopes of getting Hyunjae in bed by the end of the night, and crazily enough, he considered it for a moment before feeling his phone vibrate in his back pocket.

Normally it would be something he’d ignore, but it remained persistent, signifying that he was receiving a call. He didn’t know who would be calling at this hour—well, aside from Minghao and his usual complaints about Hyunjae partying as a high schooler on a school night. 

After setting the glass down on the counter to grab his phone, any urgency to intoxicate himself as quickly as possible vanished the very second he saw your name glowing on his screen. With an awkward retraction of his arm and a forced cough, Hyunjae excused himself and answered the call.

“Hello?”

With music pounding inside his ear canals, it was expected that he couldn’t hear anything you were saying. He navigated through various crowds to reach the entrance of the house, his heart replicating the booming vibrations from the loudspeakers as he prayed that you wouldn’t hang up on him.

“Okay, I…I should be free now,” he stammered after stepping outside. The sudden stillness of Mother Nature was a drastic change from the party scene, coercing him to focus on his racing heartbeat and the anxiety accumulating in his tightening chest. He was breathing heavily, both from pushing through people in a rush and also because of you. 

You never failed to render him weak and helpless, leaving him like a puppy longing for their owner’s guidance.

There was a silence, but he could hear your gentle breaths hitting your phone.

“I need a ride.”

Hyunjae blinked, his body tensing up, as the many thoughts in his brain scrambled to make meaning of what you meant. However, it didn’t matter because you hung up shortly after, leaving him alone to revel in your words.

Your bluntness and suddenty made Hyunjae malfunction, his thoughts leading him to question if he had even heard you correctly. Rarely did you ever reach out to him, and what could you need him for? Especially after lashing out at him and ignoring him for two months? Of course, there was that one day a week ago when you two were forced to talk together, the day he was given a one-day suspension, but you two returned to treating each other like strangers like it was natural.

He stared at his phone in hopes of receiving more information, that you’d perhaps call again to reconfirm or say you had the wrong number. He felt like he was dreaming—that the person he had wanted for so long needed him for once, but he couldn’t help but also believe that this may be the beginning of another nightmare. 

But it was you, and Hyunjae was willing to risk it.

After checking his call logs to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating, he rushed back into the fraternity house, thankful he didn’t proceed with drinking any more than he did. 

He found everyone exactly where he had left them (the girl included) and announced his departure. The girl made sure Hyunjae knew how disappointed she was, but that was his last concern as he grabbed the beer bottle and handed it to Sangyeon, giving him a pat on the back.

“Drink up and find an Uber.”

“No fucking way you’re leaving us this soon, man.” Jongin shook his head in disapproval, his forearms resting against the countertop.

“Another time, I promise, yeah?” Hyunjae started walking away, waving to them as his heart continued to thrum in his chest.

“He’s lying,” Sangyeon snorted, taking a swig before bidding Hyunjae a bitter goodbye. “You owe me!"

Hyunjae ran out of the house, his legs making quick and long strides as he ran to his parked car down the block. His newfound adrenaline made him think about what he was sacrificing to be with you. Was leaving the party and betraying his friends worth spending even a second with you? What if you were asking him to drive you and your boyfriend somewhere? Could his heart even deal with being used like that?

But as much as Hyunjae hated it, he knew he was making the right choice. The self-respect he had for himself was buried six feet deep beneath the surface of the earth when it came to you. 

God, he really hoped he wasn’t hallucinating.

For a split second, Hyunjae truly debated what he was doing after getting into his car. He was already driving, but he didn’t know where to go. Luckily, it didn’t take you long to send him a text with your location, and it was a place he was familiar with. 

It was a park that he often frequented as a kid since it resided by his old neighborhood, and he was thankful he knew exactly where to go because he knew he would’ve definitely crashed the car while pulling up your location on his GPS. Hyunjae was doubtful it was the alcohol in his system making his fingers shake and his mind uneasy. He blamed you for his hysteria, one that had developed over years of endless longing. 

Luckily the drive wasn’t long thanks to the roads being mainly void of other vehicles (and maybe he did speed a few times, but he considered it justified). Before pulling into the parking lot, he spotted a lone figure curled up on a nearby bench. A small weight had been lifted off of him, relieved it was just you, and he parked aimlessly while his eyes rested on you.

You seemed unphased by his added presence, your arms unmoving as they stayed wrapped around your legs. The bench you were sitting in was facing away from the parking lot, but with his headlights illuminating the view in front of you, you certainly had to know he was there. 

In an ideal world, Hyunjae would leave his car, join you by your side, and, if he was lucky, he’d pull you into his arms and hold you close against his chest. He wanted to be there for you in whatever way he could, but he ended up being a deer in headlights, too afraid to make the wrong move and lose you again.

He sat there for a minute, watching you, and as soon as he received the confidence to reach for the handle of his door, you were up on your feet. His fingers paused midair as he traced your movements, his arm eventually falling to his side as you approach his car. 

Despite how slow his mind was working, Hyunjae knew to unlock the car right as you opened it (he would’ve died out of embarrassment if he had forgotten), and neither of you greeted the other.

Without any explanation from you, Hyunjae refrained from staring at you like he normally would, but your outfit made it incredibly difficult. It wasn’t much, just an oversized long-sleeved shirt that reached your thighs, but it was far from the usual clothes he’d seen you wear, like jeans and a nice-fitting blouse. For a moment, he believed you had no pants on, but then he knocked some sense into himself, realizing that you were probably wearing shorts that were hidden.

While Hyunjae attempted to keep his composure and respect your boundaries, you were eyeing him shamelessly, once again analyzing every detail about him. Beads of sweat pooled up on the back of his neck, and his hair was straightened yet fuzzy. As your eyes trailed downwards, you noticed how the mesh hugged his biceps, catching every crease that defined his muscles. He was quiet, his index finger resting against his lips. 

Where did he even come from?

And why was he so quick to listen?

You held back your tongue from dumping out your thoughts, knowing your questions would end up unanswered like before. Your body instinctively rested against the divot between the car door and your seat, keeping your distance from Hyunjae. He was meant to be a stranger, perhaps someone you loathed, yet there was an odd comfort that encased you from him just sharing the same air as you.

You cleared your throat, turning your head to look away when he flinched and snapped his gaze towards you.

“Drive.”

Your demand was no louder than a whisper, but Hyunjae picked it up effortlessly and was already backing out.

“Where to?”

“Anywhere.” Hyunjae raised a brow at your answer, and you buried yourself further into his seat, directing your gaze out the door. “Just-...anywhere, Jae.”

The nickname had his throat tightening and his chest leaping, nodding in your direction as he drove on autopilot. With no destination in mind, he strolled through familiar roads, his fingers tapping against the wheel. 

You stayed silent, creating a tension that was unbearably thick, yet none of you felt the need to leave; neither of you wanted to leave the other, even if it meant having to deal with the looming elephant in the room (or in this case, Hyunjae’s car).

After spotting the recreational center from afar and its empty parking lot, he instinctively pulled in. There wasn’t a proper explanation for why he decided it’d make a great destination, especially when it was the place that created a rift in your relationship with him, but it felt right.

It was empty, open, and serene��a perfect place to stay as the moon shined.

Hyunjae stepped out of the car after parking in the middle of it, and when you didn’t follow, he moved to your side and opened the door. He was hesitant but took the risk of offering his hand to you, a warm, nervous smile on his face. He wanted you to know he was there to listen, to be there for you, because, Lord, he would hand you the world if he could.

“I’m not in the mood for walking,” you mumbled, but Hyunjae shook his head.

“We’re not going to walk, I promise.”

Your eyes flickered up to his briefly, skeptical of what he had planned, but ultimately caved. You ignored his hand, and he pulled it back with regret. When you stood there, your eyes on the sky, he closed the door behind you and guided you to the hood of his car.

Without a second thought, he sat on top of it and gestured for you to do the same.

“I sit here all the time. Helps me think.” He leaned back against his windshield, his hands holding the back of his head as he kept his eyes on the sky. When you didn’t move, he started to feel stupid, wondering if you two were better off in the car, but then you joined him. 

You copied his position, staring upwards as your hands rested over your abdomen. 

Hyunjae opted to keep to himself, deciding that he didn’t want to make this worse for the two of you. Instead, he fixated his thoughts on the stars in the sky.

There were only a few, but it was a rare sight due to the constant air pollution in your city, so he considered it a miracle. You, on the other hand, were spacing out in thought, and Hyunjae could tell through his occasional peeks. Without much control, his eyes started tracing down your arms. They then landed on where the hem of your shirt rested, now looking at your bare thighs.

Feeling as if he just reverted back to being the shyest virgin in the country, he gulped and immediately looked elsewhere, trying to get you off his mind despite you being right next to him. His racing heart was all that he could hear, and now he wondered if you could hear it too—if you knew how much you affected him.

And your voice broke the silence.

“How long have you known?”

Okay, maybe his brain did fall out of his skull because Hyunjae had no idea what you were talking about. He turned his head and caught how you stared up at the sky. Your eyes were glossy, holding the reflections of the whole galaxy within them. They sparkled, and for a beat, Hyunjae had forgotten your question, too infatuated with your beauty. 

His silence resulted in you turning your head, gaze meeting his, and that was when he noticed the tears.

“About Jiwoong and Eunseo.”

Your light, your flames, his burning desire; all were gone in a flash.

Your voice was delicate, and Hyunjae knew that with one move, he could break you.

Directing his gaze heavenward, Hyunjae sighed and brought his arms down to rest over his chest. Somehow he was able to feel all the pain you were experiencing, his heart twisting while his stomach churned and sloshed around in his body. He thought about how to respond as he chewed on the inside of his lip, questioning if he should answer at all to avoid hurting you.

But you asked, and as always, Hyunjae delivered.

“I don’t think I ever really knew until last week,” he explained, “but I could always tell.” Suddenly, the fight from a week ago had resurrected, and Hyunjae was forced to relive it all.

The hallways were empty when Hyunjae left the broadcasting room, a backpack strap slung over his shoulder while the other dangled behind him. He was in the middle of scrolling through his emails when he picked up on the sound of Jiwoong’s voice around the corner. 

His footsteps halted, and Hyunjae caught Jiwoong’s fatal words.

“How does tomorrow sound?”

Eunseo’s squeals followed after, and Hyunjae stood motionless.

At first, Hyunjae had no thoughts circulating in his brain, but after hearing their lips collide, he started coming up with solutions, such as interrupting or taking a video to send to you. Unfortunately, before he could act on either of them, he heard footsteps dashing off, practically skipping, as the two bidded one another goodbye. 

Hyunjae couldn’t pinpoint the reasoning behind his upcoming actions, but he knew how to describe how he felt. 

Anger was the first and only emotion to surge up within him, his fingers instinctively balling up into fists. His muscles had tightened while a forest fire ran rampant through his veins, causing his blood to boil. 

Then with quick strides, Hyunjae shoved his phone away and made a sharp turn around the corner, tossing his backpack on the ground after spotting Jiwoong against the lockers. The latter had a dazed look on his face, his lips curled into a smirk as he typed away on his phone, but that was changed once he looked up at the sound of Hyunjae’s backpack crashing against the ground in front of him.

There wasn’t a second in between Jiwoong’s face of surprise and Hyunjae’s arm being raised, and before Jiwoong could react, Hyunjae’s fist had slammed into his jaw. 

It was a blur from there, but Hyunjae knew he had won even after authorities dragged him off Jiwoong’s body. He had received a few jabs in return, but it was nothing compared to the black eye Hyunjae gave him.

The fact that Jiwoong managed to cover it up with makeup the day after was a miracle, and no one in the school knew about the fight since it happened after school. Hyunjae wanted it to stay that way, but a selfish, cruel part of him wished that everyone knew how sick your boyfriend was.

Well, now he was unsure if he was still your boyfriend. 

Hyunjae turned his head back towards you, his cheek meeting the cold metal of his car.

You pursed your lips at his response and nodded slowly. If it were any other day, you wouldn’t have believed him. There was no universe where you’d choose to listen to Hyunjae over Jiwoong, but after a week of investigating and getting your head out of your ass, you found out on your own terms, and all the pieces made sense.

“I didn’t mean to.”

Hyunjae’s voice jerked you out of your thoughts, and as you adjusted to look back at him, you were surprised to still find him staring at you.

“I’m not a violent person, Y/N,” he whispered, an enduring hope lingering in his eyes. He wanted you to believe him, and for once, you did; you truly understood the man you hated most.

“I know, Jae.”

Hyunjae eased at your words, and the two of you fell back into a more comfortable yet aching silence. His fingers drummed against his abdomen, and after a while, he got sick of looking at the same four stars, so he closed his eyes, focusing on enjoying the light breeze instead. His heart was still racing, but it was less alarming. Regardless, he hated knowing that he potentially contributed to how much you were hurting right now.

Maybe if he had done something to prevent it earlier, whether it be telling you as soon as he found out or keeping completely out of your business so you could live in bliss, or, if he wasn’t so scared, he could’ve asked you to be his far before Jiwoong had. Maybe it wouldn’t have changed much, but Hyunjae would never know since he never tried, and now he was going to beat himself over it because now you’re devastated over losing your boyfriend and it was potentially his faul—

You laughed.

Hyunjae snapped his head towards you, his brows raised at your sudden change in mood—but it wasn’t the type of laugh he expected. Your laugh was one filled with pain, and he watched you shake your head, trying to refuse the tears that were rapidly welling up in your eyes once more. You sniffed and wiped the tears away with the back of your hand, choosing to look in the opposite direction because the last thing you wanted was for Hyunjae to see you vulnerable.

“It’s stupid,” you murmured. “This entire thing is stupid. I’m so fucking dumb.”

His lips parted to interject, to tell you that you were, in fact, ‘not dumb,’ but he clamped his mouth shut, knowing that his words probably wouldn’t help. From what he’d learned in the past, you liked it least when he tried telling you otherwise, no matter the situation. 

“I should’ve known. I did know. The whole world knew. Even you knew, but it makes me think, was Eunseo just flocking around, flaunting to everyone that she had a crush on my boyfriend and managed to win him over? I just—I…I don’t know-...” You paused to catch your breath, beginning to choke on your tears as your chest shook, “I don’t know what I did wrong, you know?”

You shut your eyes, allowing the pain to engulf you. You knew fully well that your punishment was to deal with the pain, but you felt like you didn’t deserve it—that you deserved none of this. Why was this a penalty for being in love?

It was humiliating having everyone witness the reality you shielded from yourself, choosing hope and love over the truth. 

“I just never felt more stupid in my life, and I feel even more stupid knowing that I still love him.”

Hyunjae sucked in his lips, gnawing on them as he bit back all his feelings, from his brain shredding to his heart weeping.

“I love him so much that I would let him do it to me all over again because I keep thinking he’d be better. I know he can be better, so why-...It’s just- Why do I do this to myself?”

Tears cascaded down your cheeks, each one leaving behind a trail for others to fall. They started pouring out of you rapidly, soon sobbing at the heart-wrenching pain of being betrayed by everyone in your life, Hyunjae included, because why, out of everyone, was he here for you when he should be the last person who cared?

You always wanted Hyunjae to be the antagonist of your life story, to have him as your biggest enemy and threat, so why was everyone else but him hurting you? Why was the villain of your fantasy taking the role of your knight in shining armor?

And yet, as much as it pained Hyunjae to process all your emotions, his mind wasn’t running correctly; he had you alone for the first time in months. He wanted nothing more than to pull you in his arms and whisper words of comfort in your ears, knowing you deserved it more than anyone, but he also wanted to shake you awake and slap you out of your misery, praying that you’d forget about Jiwoong; that right now, you being vulnerable was his chance to swoop in, to set whatever you wanted him to into flames, as long as if it meant you’d end up okay. 

You sat up because if you lied down any longer, you would’ve started drowning in your own tears. Your sleeves were soaked, and he sat up alongside you, figuring that he should do something about it.

Hyunjae got back onto his feet and stood in front of you. He barely knew what he was doing, but that didn’t stop him from replacing your sleeves with his cold, clammy hands over your cheeks. There wasn’t a time that Hyunjae could recall where he had been this gentle with someone, and when you didn’t push him away, he tilted your head up to look at him.

Even with tears running down your cheeks, you looked angelic as ever. 

Each droplet mirrored a star from the sky, and your eyes sparkled as they stayed locked on his.

“Take me,” you whispered, and Hyunjae’s whole world stopped. 

“...What?” Hyunjae had only intended to wipe your tears away with the pads of his hands, perhaps whisper something along the lines of him being here for you for the night (and the rest of his life, let’s be honest), yet your first words were—no, he had to have been hallucinating.

Your hands trembled as they reached for his wrist, and although you were severely broken, the grip your fingers created was firm.

“Please.”

Like a moth to a flame, Hyunjae admired how pretty you looked, your lips plump and eyes wide, and he wanted nothing more than to take you into his backseat and treat you the way he’d always wanted to, especially after hearing your pleas, but he knew better. You both knew better. 

“What exactly are you implying?” he asked, feeling like you had just inhaled all his oxygen and left him breathless. 

You released his wrist and opted to hold onto his sleeve, tugging on it as you tried to get him to understand you.

“I want it to hurt, Jaehyun.”

Your tears were gone, and there was a hint of dominance in your tone that would’ve had him dropped to his knees in front of you. You were also one of the very few who resorted to calling him Jae, and now his actual name. He favored Hyunjae, but after hearing ‘Jaehyun’ from your lips, his preference had completely made a turnaround. 

But Hyunjae worked to collect his thoughts, fully aware that this was wrong and he’d have to be the bigger person here. As much as he hated himself for giving up the perfect opportunity to have the girl of his dreams, he couldn’t ignore the large concern over your current mental state.

“You’re not thinking straight, Y/N,” he reasoned softly, his fingers reaching up to brush your hair out of your face, and for a second, Hyunjae swore he felt the alcohol kicking in—or perhaps it was you instead. The thought of being able to have you right now, to touch you and press his hands over your skin, to have you as his for just this night, was so intoxicating that he was seconds away from foaming at the mouth.

“I don’t need to think straight. I don’t want to think at all.”

Everything felt hotter and tighter, but he kept his composure, though with his eyes dropping to your begging lips and then your delicate fingers, he knew he was beginning to lose whatever was left of his sanity. 

But he also knew you were using him; you had to be. There was no other explanation. It was only minutes ago when you professed how you continued to feel about Jiwoong—that your heart still belonged to him, and Hyunjae was allowed nowhere near it. He was your backup, your second option, yet that happened to be better than nothing, right?

Especially when he could have you right here, right now. 

“You’re using me.”

Your expression didn’t falter.

“Then say no. Make us go back into your car and drive me home.” Your hand dropped from holding onto his sleeve but that was so you could wrap your arms around his neck, slowly bringing yourself closer to him. His cheeks were flushed as his mind flooded with possibilities of what could happen. Never had you ever wanted him, and he’d been dreaming of a moment like this for years. Your tear-stained cheeks, your pouty red lips—he wanted all of you.

“But you won’t,” you whispered, your breath hitting his skin. Your eyes landed on his lips, now craving him as much as he craved you. You needed a release, an outlet, to justify Jiwoong being better than Hyunjae. Hyunjae was worse in every way possible, and you wanted him to prove that to you. “You’d do anything I’d say, wouldn’t you?”

“What makes you say that?” Little did you know Hyunjae was crumbling inside, completely melting as his fingers grew weak at the idea of your lips on his. His hands, although wary, traveled to your waist, feeling your curves before trailing his hands down to your hips to grip them.

“You love me, don’t you?”

His heart stuttered, all words caught up in his throat, but he knew there was no defending himself—not when he was practically drooling at every move you made; he was hyperaware of the hand playing with the hair on his nape, the way your lips nearly hovered over his, and how your tears glistened under the moonlight.

His entire existence was confirmation of your words, and you knew it.

“You’d do anything for me, Jae. What’s stopping you now?”

There was a stillness as you two stared at one another. He swallowed and pulled slightly back.

He knew better.

“You don’t want me.” He was brokenhearted, a part of him understanding that you’d never be his, yet he wanted you in so many ways, wishing to have your mewls fill his ears and the smell of sex staining his clothes. The bulge in his pants was forming and pressing up against the tight confinement, making him groan. 

He dropped his head downwards, his forehead leaning to rest against yours, as he closed his eyes and did his best to regulate his breathing—repeating in his head and out loud, again.

He knew better.

“You’re using me.”

You both knew better.

Yet with your lips ghosting his and your eyes half-hooded, you were prepared to give into the dark side.

“And I say take advantage of it.”

Hyunjae dived and pressed his lips onto yours, hunger driving his every movement. There was no stopping when he felt your lips curling up into a grin, his hands shifting to wrap around your torso to drag you closer. His heart burst at how perfectly his lips molded with yours, and it seemed as if there was fire shooting up into the sky and exploding—they weren’t fireworks, and the explosion was far bigger and more dangerous. It lit the entirety of the sky, the moon and stars included, into flames, a desire unlike any other.

Your left hand pressed firm against the back of his neck while the other traveled through his hair. Meanwhile, his hands had snuck beneath your shirt and felt for your lower back. Heavy breaths left the two of you as desperation crept through your veins, dictating your every movement. 

The cold touch from his hands ignited your nervous system, every sense activated and overstimulated by Hyunjae as you released a breathy moan into his mouth.

You didn’t want him, but fuck, you needed him.

When you would pull back, his lips would chase yours, and you two fell into an endless cycle. He couldn’t even fathom how you were pulling away for air when you were his oxygen. Maybe you weren’t oxygen itself, but the fumes you emitted had already replaced his need for air, deluding him into believing that you were what he needed to stay alive.

You were suffocating, toxic, and destructive, and he wanted more. 

After retracting from the kiss for the nth time, you turned your head to hold Hyunjae back from continuing. You both were panting, your cunt soaking, and he stared into your eyes like a puppy awaiting their next direction.

“Good boy,” you praised, and he laughed lowly and sheepishly, dropping his head as he processed what happened and the idea of it being potentially over. 

“You’re lethal,” he breathed out.

“And you’re pitiful,” you spat. There was a playful grin on your lips, but those words ignited something within Hyunjae. He raised his head and cocked a brow at you, questioning your genuinity. 

Just minutes ago you were crying over a guy that treated you terribly, and yet here you thought you had the authority to call him weak.

Perhaps he was; he was falling deeper into your pitless trap, enticed with every movement of yours, but he knew for a fact you weren’t any better than him.

You both were sick in the head for falling for people that treated the other like shit, yet your drive, your fuel, to win over the hearts of the people you loved was so strong, and it made you two unstoppable. 

Hyunjae would punch Jiwoong all over again if he could. 

Without a second thought, Hyunjae ducked his head down and ruthlessly attached his lips to your neck, eliciting a gasp from you. He kissed your skin fervently, his fingers teasing the rim of your shorts, and your hands shifted to hold onto his shoulders for support. You found yourself tossing your head back, providing him more room to do as he pleased, that if Jiwoong were to see you with marks on your neck, then maybe he’d want you back. 

“Bold of you to call me pitiful,” he grumbled, sucking onto your neck until a blot of purple began to form.

“But it’s true, no?”

“You’re just as bad, Y/N.” He licked a stripe up your neck and over the mark, and the sensation made you cringe, disgust itching at your skin due to being covered in his saliva, but you wanted more of it. You wanted Hyunjae to treat you like you were nothing, to treat you worse than Jiwoong ever had, so you could direct your blame over to Hyunjae instead of your unknowing boyfriend.

You turned your head and slotted your lips with his again, already addicted to how perfect they were for you. Hyunjae knew the exact way to kiss you, to keep you on your toes, as your slick pooled up in your underwear at the mere thought of Hyunjae touching you.

The kiss was eager, a fight for control, and when Hyunjae didn’t surrender, you raised your knee, forcing your thigh to brush up against his crotch.

He gasped at the sensation and pulled away, bangs hanging over his eyes as he looked down at the sight. You teased him by keeping your touches gentle, but you made sure to keep your leg moving. Nothing intrigued you more than seeing Hyunjae beg or rut against your thigh, further proof of how pathetic he was for you. You gained a sense of ego knowing that he could have any girl in the world, that he has had every girl, and yet he would always come back to you. Now that you had him, it would be harder for him to return to a life without you under him, moaning his name.

You wanted to be his downfall. 

Your nails latched onto the mesh, taking note of how easy it would be to rip the material, before pressing your thigh firmly up against his dick, making him jerk.

“You’re-...oh my god, Y/N,” he gasped, breathless. His eyes meet your devious ones, how you were basically Satan himself, and somehow, someway, he wouldn’t ask for anything different. “You’re playing a losing…a losing- game.”

“What more do I have left to lose?” There was some truth in your words as vulnerability struck you. Your leg then lowered as you regained a slight sense of reality, realizing that you were forcing Hyunjae into being your selfish source of relief. You hated Hyunjae, sure, but you knew this was the last thing he deserved—to use him when he’d been nothing but accommodating to you.

And your sick and twisted plan was that after this encounter, you’d leave him to rot.

Hyunjae didn’t deserve that at all. 

But Hyunjae was already too far gone, too intoxicated, to even consider the repercussions of how he’d end up after this. The loss of contact with his crotch was what had him picking you up from his car, the tips of his fingers digging into your thighs, as he led you to the backseat. 

Your eyes widened, your senses fully back, but you made him like this, and you were going to pay for it. Although scared for about what’s to come, the anticipation had you drooling, your lips pressing fierce kisses onto his skin while he opened the door with you in his arms.

He laid you down gently and crawled over you, keeping you trapped between his arms.

“This is what you wanted, right? For me to tear you apart until you can run back to Jiwoong and justify how poorly he treats you?” 

Your brows bunched up at his words, your legs getting antsy being under him. There was no answering him, not when Hyunjae already knew how you were going to respond.

He brought one of his hands into your shorts and made the aggravating decision to slide his fingers over your underwear, depriving you of contact with his fingers.

Yet even with your underwear being a divider, he found your clit with ease and immediately started rubbing circles into the bud, making you buck your hips with a whine. The friction of the cloth was something you were unfamiliar with, and lord did it mess with you. 

“You want me to treat you how he sees you? Worthless and undeserving of respect?” He flicked your clit and kissed your jaw. “If that’s what you want, that’s exactly what my princess is going to get.”

“Fuck,” you moaned, using your hands to push onto his shoulders and force him down. The drive to ride his tongue was strong, and if he kept teasing you, you would have lost it.

“I know you inside and out, Y/N. I know you better than him, and this is how you treat me.” He sucked in a cheek but ultimately decided to comply with what you wanted. He pulled off your shorts yet left your underwear on, and his brows raised. He wasn’t sure how his fingers had missed the texture of lace, but what you were wearing was certainly lingerie.

You looked down to see why he stopped, and when you realized why he froze, heat rose to your cheeks.

“I wanted to feel pretty,” you whispered, shutting your eyes after turning your head. It was embarrassing, now that you thought about it, but Hyunjae’s heart soared, and he wanted nothing more than for you to know how ethereal you looked.

But he shoved the feeling away, allowing his frustrations to get the better half of him. 

When he pulled off your underwear, he cooed at how your essence oozed onto the material and raised the undergarment into the air, waiting for you to look.

“Did I do this?”

His mocking tone kept you from looking, but your curiosity got the best of you. You were met with the sight of a large wet, dark patch on your underwear, biting down on your lip as you looked at him with wide eyes. If you thought about it, you couldn’t remember the last time you felt like this, or if there ever had been a time when you craved someone this badly. 

He tossed it to the side and his hands massaged your thighs, keeping them spread open so he got a proper view of your core on display for him. The sight truly stunned him, reminding him that this was you he fantasized about and replicated with other girls—no one else.

“Do you normally take this long?” you rasped, tossing your head back against the seat, and Hyunjae rolled his eyes.

“I do you a favor, and this is how you treat me.”

“A favor is a stretch—”

Hyunjae plunged two fingers into your mouth, having them press firmly down against your tongue. He latched onto your jaw and pulled your head forward and up towards him, having your eyes meet his.

“Remind me, Y/N, who was begging for this?”

He dropped your head back down against the seat before you could even respond and used whatever saliva accumulated in your mouth as temporary lube, figuring that your slick would help him with stretching you out. You grunted at the impact, feeling helpless, as Hyunjae finally inserted his fingers inside of you. 

Hyunjae’s fingers were enough to have your eyes rolling, but it was the ring that he wore that stimulated you the most. You weren’t aware that he was even wearing one, yet the cold band against your raging wet heat made you whimper and desperately grasp for his hair.

“Jaehyun, please,” you begged. 

He chuckled and kept his movements slow, forcing you to fuck yourself onto his fingers weakly. When you did, he was in awe at how stunning you looked, how you seemed to be in your own world, and how you were enjoying him. By curling his fingers, a moan was pulled from your throat, making your eyes open as you looked at him. You continued to pool around his fingers, your voice weakly begging for so much more than his fingers and the cold air that brushed against your skin. 

Never had you felt more vulnerable, but Hyunjae never once made you feel like you were doing something wrong, making you cling desperately to him. You forced his face down into your crotch and jerked at the feeling of his nose brushing up against your clit.

“Shameless, aren’t you?” he commented, laughing lowly, but you were too out of it to care. 

“Shut the-...F-fuck, oh my god.”

Your whines had gotten more incessant the more useless he became, his fingers now completely stilled inside of you as he watched you roll your hips with a cheeky grin. He wanted to drag this out for as long as possible, knowing fully well that he could last all night. 

When he took out his fingers, you were yanked out of your bliss and nearly begged for him to put them back in, but before you could get a word out, he had replaced his digits with his tongue. Your slick was dripping onto his lips, and as he dragged his wet muscle up and down your folds, he made sure to collect a small puddle of you onto his tongue to eventually swallow, wanting to savor you. 

“Oh-...Oh my god, Jae—” Your orgasm was approaching, unsure of how it was here so soon, but you recognized the signs from the coil in your chest tightening to losing every sensation to the man beneath you. You rocked your hips continuously onto his tongue, and his thumb attached to your clit, making you see stars with how rapid his movements were. 

He pulled his face back and forced his fingers back into you, and the final curl was what made you reach your peak, your hips in the air as you cried out his name. 

As you came down from your high, you caught a glance of the way Hyunjae was looking at you; to him, you were otherworldly, and it was a sight he’d never forget. He wondered if Jiwoong ever saw you like this, if he ever made you feel this way, and suddenly his admiration had soured and contoured to something of darkness, rid of any empathy as he now looked at you with some form of disgust. 

“All this for me, and you still have the fucking audacity to choose him.” 

The mention of Jiwoong had your eyes wide open, tears reappearing at the mention and while being in your most vulnerable state. Your legs shook from the aftermath, feeling too weak to continue, yet Hyunjae seemed to have other plans.

Instead of shoving his fingers back into either of your mouths, he hovered over you and made sure you saw the way he dragged his fingers around your abdomen, drawing aimlessly over your skin with your essence before dragging a hand up to your breasts, massaging one of them as his other hand rested by your waist.

“Tell me, Y/N, did you buy this for him and never got to use it? That’s why you’re wearing it now with me? Am I your sloppy seconds?”

There was a slight growl under his tone, and while you shook your head subconsciously, he worked to remove your shirt, wanting a better look at your bra, before being met with a necklace you had been hiding; one with Jiwoong’s name.

And Hyunjae took no time breaking it from your neck.

Your jaw dropped, and you snapped out of your daze by sitting straight up, yet as you were about to yell at him for breaking your necklace, he shoved three fingers back into your pussy, shutting you up by having you moan at the intrusion. 

“It looked cheap, anyway,” he muttered, forcing his mouth against yours momentarily to nip on your lower lip, tugging on it so your focus remained on him. 

“That was—he’s mine,” you forced out, gasping at every thrust he made with his fingers, your sweet spot being abused as your hands latched onto his shoulders. You made sure your nails dug into his skin, wanting it to hurt, before pulling onto the mesh, wishing for it to tear. 

“He’s not yours, princess. Tell me, how can you say that when his dick has been up other girls?” With his free hand, he grabbed your face and made sure you were staring straight at him before shoving it to the side. 

“You need to fucking wake up and realize that you can dream all you want about how he’d react if he saw you hopping on my dick, but guess what? He wouldn’t care.” Hyunjae pulled out his fingers and left you alone in the backseat. 

You sat there, a wreck and vulnerable, as you tried to catch your breath. You lay back on your forearms, curious eyes following his every movement.

“There’s a reason he hasn’t left you yet,” Hyunjae explained, opening the front door to his car to grab a condom and his phone. He tucked both into his back pocket before returning to you, bringing your lips to his before continuing to talk within the kiss.

“He’s stringing you along so you can boost his ego. He knows you will always be there for him, and you allow him to use you like that?” 

You wrapped your fingers around Hyunjae’s neck, squeezing it before pushing it away to keep your distance, your frustration starting to grow.

“I’m beginning to think you’re all bark and no bite, Jaehyun,” you muttered, and with whatever strength you had left, you pushed him against the seat and got into his lap. Without hesitation, you started rocking your hips over his clothed dick, hoping your slick would seep in so he could feel you.

He hissed but allowed you to do as you pleased, his grip tight on your hips.

“I-...I think…if you asked me, you’re the one who’s projecting. I’m the one in a relationship, and you’re just a side piece.”

The speed of your hips increased, and Hyunjae felt ecstasy on the tip of his tongue, the confinements of his pants physically paining him the more you continued.

“You’re jealous, Jae. Just admit it.”

You pulled at his hair, loving the absolute control you had over him at that moment, but in one languid motion, Hyunjae managed to push you back down, this time with your stomach against the seats. You could feel your bodily fluids sticking to the nylon, and with how hard Hyunjae was pressing down into you, you were barely given a chance to move. 

With one hand on your lower back, he kept you still as he took out both his phone and condom, making sure to place both on top of your bare skin.

“What’s there to be jealous of when you’re here under me? You want to be fucked stupid? Fine. Don’t fucking complain when you want me to be the villain.” You lurched at his words, refusing to let him win, but you were completely unable to do much damage as Hyunjae kicked off his pants and boxers while still keeping his weight on you.

He then picked up his phone and pulled up the camera, making sure to take a photo of you in his car before clicking record and tossing the phone onto the ground, hoping it was close enough to pick up on your sweet noises. 

“Make sure to be loud for me, yeah? I’m sure Jiwoong would love it if I sent that video to him.”

“You wouldn’t fucking dare,” you bit back, your hand reaching out in an attempt to grab the device, but Hyunjae was quicker to grab your wrist, pinning it behind your back. 

“I wouldn’t because I know how to appreciate what’s mine.” Hyunjae released his hold on you to roll on the condom, giving you the opportunity to move and take his phone as you pleased. To your dismay, there was no more effort left within you, only an ache to feel Hyunjae inside you. 

“He appreciates me,” you mumbled, trying to convince yourself otherwise as you waited.

“Does he record you? Jerk off to your moans every night? Because I would, Y/N, just for you.” His voice was now by your ear, and when you turned your head to look at him, he pulled you into another hungry kiss, his dick now grazing against your hole. 

“You’re fucking insane,” you bit back into the kiss, and he grinned against your lips, guiding his dick into you as he spoke.

“Psychotic, just for my princess.”

Venom laced his voice, dripping menacingly, and the insertion of his tip had you grasping for something in front of you, anything, and it was only then that you were able to process how thick his cock was.

“Can you take it?” he asked, his voice slightly softer than before. When you gave him a curt nod, he continued pushing in further. Maybe lube should’ve been an option, but you were so wet for him that it didn’t matter, knowing that the stretch probably would have hurt regardless. 

“Fuck, fuck—he really doesn’t know what he’s missing,” Hyunjae gasped, his head resting against the back of yours. It was better than anything he’d dreamed of, better than any girl he imagined, because it was you, and your body was made for him.

“When was the last time he fucked you?” He was fully inside of you now, and when you didn’t answer, he decided to take it as a sign to move. With a firm grip on your waist, he pulled out just to slam back in, making you yell as you clawed at the seat, wishing there was something to bite on as you endured the pain that was quick to morph into pleasure. 

Every glide pushed you further into the car, your forearms occasionally hitting the door, as his hips moved vigorously, working up to a pace that had you moaning without pause. Tears were flowing down your cheeks at the overwhelming pleasure of being manhandled—of being Hyunjae’s rag doll when he was meant to be yours, and your body seized up, being worked up to your orgasm once more with how precise each thrust seemed to be. 

He adjusted to raise one of your legs to his hip, giving him a new angle to pound into you as he worships you with his dick, and you shook out of pleasure, whining as you saw white and reached your second orgasm for the night. You pulsated around his cock, strangled moans ripping from your throat as tears mixed with your drool by your chin.

And Hyunjae showed no signs of stopping.

He made sure to press your face down against the seats, wanting every liquid to fall and stain his car, giving him something to remember you by.

Oh, and there was the recording too.

While kneeling inside of the cramped car, he slowed his movements and inclined his torso towards you. In one swift motion, he wrapped his arm around your neck and pulled you up, locking you inside his elbow as he forced you to look into your reflection in the car window.

“Look at you, the school’s favorite slut. What happens if the recording drops? The whole school would know you’re mine, wouldn’t they?” He pressed his chest against your back, the mesh rubbing against your skin as his lips remained near your ear, forcing you to listen to every word.

You limped against him, your flames completely burnt out, and your fingers tugged onto the mesh around his arm, successfully ripping it after some time, but Hyunjae seemed unphased. In fact, it turned him on even more knowing that he had you locked in, that you were his.

“Look at your pretty cunt taking me in so well. It was so wet for me, wasn’t it? It still is. And guess what? You’re in my car. You belong to me, and my good girl is only now just finding out about it, isn’t she?” 

“I-I’m…I’m not-...not yours,” you retaliated, creating red angry marks into his skin with your nails as you endured being used, stifling your moans as you looked at how wrecked you were, how bare you seemed to be compared to Hyunjae. You were much more of a mess, from your hair to the bruises on your neck. Your pussy kept tightening up around his dick, convulsing occasionally with every hit toward your g-spot, and you held onto Hyunjae each time. 

Your head drooped down, thinking about how your heart ached for Jiwoong, yet the rest of your body was meant for Hyunjae.

“Whose fucking dick is inside of you right now?” He scoffed and pulled on your hair, forcing your head back up so he could directly speak into your ear. “Wake up, Y/N,” he demanded. “You’re mine.”

He dropped you back onto the seat like you were nothing, leaving you completely helpless, your throat void of any words as your eyes closed and met the back of your skull, too fucked out to communicate. You tried reaching for the door handle, just something to hold onto, yet you couldn’t.

“You tell me I’m pitiful, that I’m basically delusional when you’re going to be the reason my car will smell like sex for weeks.”

Your face was forced back into the puddle of liquid you created earlier, being shifted back and forth against the seat as if you were made for his dick and not vice versa.

“It’s crazy how pathetic you are, how willing you are to break yourself down in front of everyone just to have him. That-...fuck…that you’re so convinced he wants you and you two are soulmates.” He dragged his fingers through your hair and grabbed your roots. “You called me, you wanted me, and I have you right now, moaning my name, and you have nothing.”

Something about his words kept bringing out your orgasms, each thrust adding to the pleasure immensely. You didn’t know how much you could handle—afraid you may pass out from how much he was using you, from his tight grip around you to his dick hitting inside of you mercilessly.

Hyunjae whispering ‘I won, Y/N’ was what had you losing it, your high this time ending up stronger than the rest. You were fully crying now, and yet he continued as if you were nothing.

He peppered your shoulder with kisses and had the slight decency to slow his pace, but he also took note of your sobs.

“Don’t tell me you still want him,” he began rambling, his lips still on your shoulder. “Don’t tell me after this that your heart still belongs to him, because if that were the case, I’d make you call him right now. Say you wish it was him instead of me, and that he’s the love of your life while you’re stuffed with my dick. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You could no longer think, and what you hated most was how reactive your body was—how you were just able to come for the third time, but Hyunjae’s dick solely being inside you snapped some other straw you weren’t aware you had, finding that your last high was incoming. 

Hyunjae had picked up the pace by then, and by knowing your body incredibly well, he reached down to your sensitive clit to relieve you. You both knew your fourth was arriving, and you held on tight to his arm.

“J-Jaehy- hyun, I’m—”

“Mine.”

You cried out, your entire body shaking, and Hyunjae pulled out, immediately releasing onto your back with a guttural moan after yanking off the condom. He was forced to catch his breath, watching you float in and out of consciousness.

Your eyes were closed, struggling to breathe through your sobs, and Hyunjae consoled you with a kiss on the back of your shoulder. 

“You’re mine, Y/N, whether you like it or not.”

He then pressed a kiss to your cheek before leaving to grab paper towels from his trunk. You were heaving, still shaking, and left alone as a mess in his backseat, yet with him gone, you felt even more useless, wanting him back by your side instantly. You weakly cried out for him, your nails dragging against the seat in hopes of being in his arms soon, and maybe he was right.

Maybe you were his.

OUR INFERNO [ M.LIST | TWO ]

NAVIGATION — THE BOYZ

© https://hcuyk.tumblr.com/

[ghost-of-the-machine]

i used to be able to just like. yap for eternity like, it was my favorite thing ever!!

just go somewhere and TALK talk alone, talk for no one, talk til i had nothing to say anymore but recently ive noticed it makes me feel.. worse? like. i was supposed to just JERK OFF AND GO TO BED like . at 9 pm last night 💀 and i stayed up til like 3 am, ive just been talkin and i watched a movie, that was nice.. i miss it? something inside of me is really really sad right now and i cant quite figure out why. its like a weird puzzle, trying to navigate my brain cuz like i KNOW something wrong, but what? whats bothering me? idont understand. maybe im scared of annoying people again, but.. was i scared of that before too? i dont remember if i was or not. what do i even miss? i dont know, i miss? i dont know what i miss. i miss something, probably

maybe thats whats bothering me, i feel like ive lost something, do i feel like ive lost the ability to be comfortable just.. talking ? maybe a little.. some people followed me after i posted my spamton art and anytime that sort of thing happens, i always feel . i feel so horribly guilty!!! youve followed me for that, not to hear me chatter endlessly about whatever comes to my mind. i know i shouldnt care, but im just scared of annoying people, cuz i really do love to talk!!! i love talking about things i like, but.. something is holding me back? it feels like it, i dont know why. i think its just mental barriers. i was so up front and proud of how much i love spamton g spamton, how much i love A LOT of characters. then i made friends and i felt ashamed and embarrassed. is that all it takes? once you have a set of eyes on you that matters, you fold? i feel like that about a lot of things, maybe thats one of the reasons ive been quieter than im used to being

i think im scared, i think it scares me to imagine ever saying anything and having them be like. "eugh." like?? death id prefer death. without them even asking for it ive just kinda cut bits and pieces off to save myself from POTENTIAL rejection, the. i just want to be someone that is adored, as selfish as it is, of course ill change to get that

i think it sorta.. i . its hard to explain, but loving people when you have bpd feels like you will never ever be loved equally, because i have endless devotion and admiration, theres hardly a single thing i dont love about the people i care about, to the point where its a fault. ive let people get away with terrible things, just cuz i loved them so much i didnt care what happened to me. and sometimes it hurts real bad when i remember that the way i love isnt normal, no one could ever love me like that. its why im on edge, the fear of saying something wrong, the fear of cracking this image. they like me, dont they? what if i say something wrong and for even a small second they like me just a little bit less? it makes me chest hurt just thinking about it, its terrifying. if they like me less for a second, maybe.. the rose tinted glasses will shatter, maybe theyll realize im not all that great, maybe itll be over, gone, DONE. finished, ended . dead. i dont want that, its logical to do everything i can to avoid that right?

terrible fate, thats how i see it. the end of all things. worst possible thing to ever happen to me. id rather relive all my trauma over again than lose anyone, id rather anything else. the way i feel is extreme, but. im known for that i guess 💀 its fear, im scared. scared, what if im annoying? i get afraid of annoying STRANGERS, of course im terrified to annoy my best friends. annoying, maybe when im talking to myself about shit they dont care about, its just filler words. garbage, static , words from my mouth and it means nothing to them. isnt that thought so scary? it is to me, i hang on to every word, every stupid joke, every laugh and .

what do i feel now? im working myself up over something that hasnt even happened. ive upset myself over the IDEA of a problem, the thought that maybe something might be wrong. whatever. i think i have this intense loathing for myself, thats the thing?

with bpd, you split. yr thinking isnt clear, its black and white. painful, so painful, but.. im not some mindless monster that just lashes out. thats terrifying, id have no one if i did that right? so i split on myself instead, all that anger and pain is directed at me from inside, it rips me apart. suddenly i can see every flaw, every annoying thing ive ever done every awkward sentence, every joke that didnt land. every opportunity, every single thing that could take it all away from me. as innocent as they are it seems like genuinely theres these big ugly lacerations on my body every time i feel like im possibly maybe not being as charming as id hope to be, ugly scars that ward people off, my blood gets everywhere and it grosses them out, they scoot away an inch for every cut. i know its not true.. i make friends with good people!! the best people, it just.. its what im scared of, which in my eyes means that its true because if im scared of it, there msut be a reason why im scared ofit? it must be actively happening! every rejection of my being is a step closer to abandonment, i g

ive been doing really good, i think. im not so scared of being abandoned because ive been reassured over and over again and i dont have the heart to think past all that work thats been done for me. ive hardly thought about it, anytime i get scared i just remember the things that have been said to me, how secure my place is here. its true, surely.. but this fear is natural for me. its 2nd nature, this fear puts actions in motion to prevent abandonment. fear keeps me safe, keeps me in that little box i think people want me in. the little box that says im okay! im a good person, every aspect of me they can see in the box is enjoyable, who cares if i feel like i need to cut some pieces off to fit there?

i know in my heart its not what they want. im moving too fast, im bracing again. i just get scared, maybe im just needy. what, i need eyes on me? need to feel seen and appreciated with everything i do? if nothing else, at least THAT is 100% selfish, ive been doing better recently... but sometimes its hard not to fall back on those instincts

[amiaboyoragirl]

alone

i dont have any friends. i live at home with emotionally unavailable parents and my brother, who is my only semi trusted person. we are really close and honestly if i didnt have him i wouldnt be alive but we definitely butt heads and i feel bullied by him even though he doesnt mean to hurt my feelings hes just a blunt ass bitch and 6.5 years younger than me but the dynamic is basically im a big baby he feels the need to take care of. and were codependent with weed nicotine and money/food. im a mess and cant get a job, he does instacart when hes not stoned af at home. hes the only person i interact with during the day other than awkward convos with my mom complaining about something and at least once a day i have to hug my dad which makes me very uncomfortable because 1. im autistic. 2. i have sexual trauma 3. he has traumatized me so bad but either doesnt remember or doesnt think it was traumatic (didnt involve incest but he was too involved in my personal business and forced me on birth control that fucked up my health for a while when the incident that caused him to flip was asault but my mom just slut shamed me and yeah anyway my relationship with them is fucked) but i have ocd and if i dont hug them i feel like theyre gonna die after that thinking idont love them because they cant see any other reason why i wouldnt hug them. and honestly im touch starved so a hug is nice here and there but my body is so uncomfortable here. ive lived here my whole life and i feel helpless. im sure it is learned helplessness because of trauma but still i cannot fucking function outside in the world alone.

i also have tits that make me uncomfortable and im currently trying to figure out if i feel this way because im trans or because of trauma and the general sexualization of the female body and social dynamics idk. i also just got out of a 3.5 year relationship with someone i thought i was going to marry and shit but i felt like i was a lesbian and broke up with him even though i didnt want to lose him i knew he wouldnt love me the way i loved him or if i was a guy inside he wouldnt love me anymore. i know he loved me. but a lot of it feels fuzzy and i cant decipher what was real or if it was all chemicals cuz we fucked and smoked and ate and watched tv and talked all the time. the sex was fucking amazing. sometimes i cry about it still. and i still cant touch myself without thinking about him and just forcing myself to dissociate through it and sleep immediately after. ive always been a sex addict since i was way too fucking young but before this relationship i was sleeping with multiple guys all the time, i needed it to get through going to school and work and keeping up the mask. but then covid hit. met my ex. realized we are autistic. i couldnt keep pretending and forcing myself to work in a fucking restaurant that was sensory hell and triggered my eating disorder. ughhhhh god dammit i know im just romanticizing my ex relationship because im missing the sex and affection and talking to him but realistically we werent going to last and i still feel like we both were hiding some feelings or thoughts we had idk i think he couldve been a narcasisstic asshole but my heart doesnt feel that way, maybe im the narcasist and hes just audhd and traumatized just like me. idk fuck. i miss him so much. we were doing so good like finally things felt peachy again and looking up for us even tho in reality it wasnt we were and are still broke addicts too stubborn to get help. but it was fun while it lasted i guess.

anyway i feel like a rabbit in a hole running out of food and water while the world dances in the snow covering the exit. idk. i havent eaten breakfast yet and i already smoked twice so im sure ill eat and sleep this shit off but idk the thing that gets me everyday is i wake up from a dream i feel like im with my ex and then wake up alone and sad as fuck and it just ruins my day because i let it, i dont want to let go of the pain, of him, i fucking miss him and wish things could be different. we always said we wanted to die holding each other in bed like that couple preserved in pompeii. my chest is on fire right now and if i could just have one more night together id do anything. we have the same birthday so that sucks. i wanted to say happy birthday but it felt way too soon and idk if itd ruin his day or not but iwas def sad all day. we broke up 2 months ago now and havent spoken since but i saw him twice waiting to cross the street while i drove by and my heart sank to my ass. he looked good af. but i have to be honest with myself its not my responsibility to try to make him not angry and act like a man child sometimes. and its not fair tohim to feel responsible for my moods all the time we just couldnt take care of eachother the way we needed because we are both depleted of what we need idk. im going back to sleep. im just feeling emo we shouldnt get back together but i feel like i cant trust my brain because im bpd and pmdd and i always feel this way around my period, we break up then my periods over and im sad as fuck about it and regret it. its too late now im sure hes lost any interest in me and has moved on.good for him. he should. i actually really hope hes happy right now. but i know i didnt feel completely right with him so fuck it ill just try to move on. i just wish i could be normal and have a job or school and friends stuff to distract myself and have new memories but im so isolated rn and depressed idk. i might feel fine tomorrow so i wont kms lol. bpd is sooo fun. especially with gender and sexuality ocd and just wanting to be loved but feeling so unlovable ayyyyy.. i could feel hot after breakfast who knows.

[scrmngtts]

i checked my last entry prior to the last one.. i can kinda feel somethings gonna happen i shouldve trusted my instincts..

OKAY SO LETS START!//

Again, im writing this to vent and journal my emotions.. nothing else. to help me cope and to help me process my thoughts better.

SATURDAY.. I invited them to go to this place to support my friends. it went well, i met his bestfriend again first we chatted for a bit and then we head over to the place.. it was fun id say.. i enjoyed.. my friends were there too it was nice seeing them as well. we had lunch together. was really nice as well cuz we get to talk and he seem to really like my friends which is really nice i like that, they were laughing and such and they were getting along. really glad on that part. idk if he ever was jealous that all my friends are mostlly gus, tbh idont think he cares so.. shrug i gues//

so yeah after we ate we went home, i said my goodbyes to my friends, they were nice i missed them so much i wanna see them again without him there to be honest.. i dont know what went in my mind why did i invitefd them.. cuz it led to things i really didnt like..

we went to his place with his bestfriend.. he said if we can just chill for a bit.. sure.. chill for a bit.. but yeah that was so.. the most awkward situation ive ever been.. tbh idek why im stilling talking to him after all this...

it is smtg really weird that i dont even wanna think about it.. or write about it.. it made me feel really uncomfy... whats worse is i dont have someone to talk to about it.. cuz its so weird i dont want anyone to know about it.. it was nust very awkward and weird and i dont knwo.. im really still all over the place just thinking about that just typing my thoughts about that makes me really uncomfortable..

so after what happened i kinda detached myself from the situation because i really dont want to deal with it i really wanna run away from it.. i realy wanna drop everything and leave i noticed that im like that i always wanted to run away when things get out of hand.. i dont fight i flight.. i just feel like i can always deal with my emotions alone, i can always think better when im on my own.

anyways.. he felt smtg was off cuz he asked me right away. also i was with his bestfriend at the time and i told her im not ok that i need some time alone and think things. so i really dont know if she told him smtg? but yeah he asked if i was okay.. i said i dont know, can u giv eme more time to think and he said yes then we can talk when im ready.. this was around maybe 7pm on a saturday night.

then around 11:30 he called me.. i dont really wanna pick up but.. i still did.. i was actually busy at the time so i told him ill call him when im done.. i finished around 1am.. then he was still up.. we were in call for like an hour and 30 mins..

idk if i wanna continue.. maybe next post?

[kybcrs]

are you valid or not based on which persona 5 waifu you chose:

(i should clarify that this is NOT 'is your ship problematic or not'. its are you VALID or not for having that ship. you're free to have any waifu you like, no one should cast moral judgement on literal fictional characters.)

ann: yes valid

makoto: absolutely valid. makoto best girl.

futaba: no. you have good taste but you are not valid.

haru: yes, i pity you but yes

kasumi: absolutely NOT. atlus pushes kasumi as the ‘canon’ love interest so hard and you actually fall for it? pathetic.

sophia: no.

chihiya: no!!!

ohya: NO!!!

tae: no, but i admire your balls

hifumi: yes

kawakami: surprisingly, yes. is it legal? no. are you valid though? yes

the velvet attendants: no. i respect the loli appeal but you are invalid.

sae: yes but you’re on thin fucking ice

and now onto the real point of this list:

ryuji: hell yes

yusuke: 100% completely valid. you have the best taste out of everyone else on this list.

morgana: even if this wouldn't make you a furry, no. invalid.

mishima: no

iwai: yes, actually

sojiro: N O. ELECTRIC CHAIR

igor: no, get help

akechi: you, my friend are an intellectual, however you are 100% INVALID. i respect you deeply. akechi is best waifu, this is known, but those who know this, me included, are absolutely not valid. i am sorry.

[ickle-ronniekins]

it takes two

desc: when you make a stupid mistake, you can feel a shift in your friendships with your two best mates. so what better way to take care of things than to not mention anything to either of them at all? that is, until you’re bursting at the seams and need to get the story out, one way or another.

word count: 5.6k

warning(s): mentions and consumption of alcoholic beverages

A/N: something a little different. i still hope you all enjoy :) took me freaking forever to write this oi veigh. notes: my requests are still currently closed, i am merely working through the ones in my inbox. i do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any platforms.

taglist: @mintlibri @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @how-do-life-does @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darlingdetails @laneygthememequeen @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @feffffffy​@acciotwinz @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am @wtfweasleyy @thoseofgreatambition @harrysweasleys @shadowsinger11 @sleep-i-ness @shadychaoticcollection​ @haphazardhufflepuff​ @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff​ @kageyama-i-want-tobiors​ @letsfightsomeorcs​ @theweasleysredhair​ @purpleskiesstorm @hxfflxpxffs​ @wand3ringr0s3​ @finecole​ @angelinathebook​ @highly-acidic​ @purplefragile @90shermione​ @zreads​ @susceptible-but-siriusexual​ @hollands-weasley​ @andromedaa-tonks​ @bbystrawberry0421 @princessof-theuniverse @cappsikle​ @mytreec​ @imseeinggred​ @idont-knowrn​ @auroraboringalis57​ @godricsswords​ @jejegu​ @annasofiaearlobe​ @starlightweasley​ @alwaysasadaesthetic​ @thisismysketchbook​ @izzytheninja​ @imboredandneedalife​ @hemmoporro​ @valwritesx​ @heavenlymidnight​ @hannolannno​ @msmimimerton​ @oh-for-merlins-sake​ @hufflepuff5972​ @pigwidgexn​ @sarcasticallywitty15​ @breadqueen95​ | message me if you’d like to be added or removed!

“Fred! Bloody hell, can’t you let me win just once?”

The common room was vibrating with chattering students. Across the table from you sat Fred with a rather smug look painted onto his face as if to say, Won again! You huffed dramatically; you’d been trying this entire term to beat him in a game of exploding snap and had yet to do so. You sulkily sank back into the couch and folded your arms across your chest, all while Fred just sat across from you and laughed. Just then, George plopped down next to you and thrust a goblet that was filled to the brim into your hands.

“Are you giving me this because I’ve lost to your git of a brother for the millionth time this year and need some reconciling?” You lowered your voice and your eyes to the goblet, the insides of it swirling with Gryffindor-deep crimson reds and oranges, the liquid that would course through your veins like a rapid fire.

“What’re you on about?” George asked, a sly smile creeping onto his face, “that’s butterbeer.”

You knew by the colour alone and the sheer burn in the back of your throat when you swallowed that it was definitely not butterbeer. Your eyes began to water at the sting. “Mhmm,”

“To answer your question, Y/N,” Fred dragged your name out a little bit longer than you would have liked, but he just adored teasing you, didn’t he? You narrowed your eyes at him as he relaxed back into the armchair, bringing the goblet of firewhisky to his lips, “no, I can’t let you win just once, I reckon. That wouldn’t be fair.” He then took a too-big-to-handle gulp, and began to cough from the burn of the alcohol.

“Fred, I swear to Merlin, could you be any less subtle, you idiot?” George sneered at his twin, grabbing for the goblet which Fred held above his head. George just sighed. “Can’t let the prefects see I’ve snuck this in.”

You giggled and shoved him. “Oh, you mean, your brother?”

The three of you peered across the common room to see Ron, Harry, Hermione and Ginny chatting away, Ron and Hermione’s shiny Prefects badges glistening on their robes. You shoved George playfully when he began to laugh.

“What? Ron wouldn’t tell. He’s too scared of us. It’s Hermione I’m worried about.”

You clinked your goblet with his and then with Fred’s and wiggled your eyebrows at the both of them. “Well then, boys, best make sure she doesn’t see, yeah?”

The three of you threw back more gulps and you reckoned it probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but the buzz of the party was making you abandon all logical thoughts.

You jumped up in surprise to find yourself still in your uniform from yesterday, but somehow tucked comfortably underneath the covers in your four poster. There were two perfect seconds where everything was fine and wonderful and lovely, until the haze above you lifted and you felt the very obnoxious thumping in your head when you turned toward your window and the sunlight nearly blinded you. Groaning, you pulled the covers back over your eyes and stayed in the dark until one of your mates began to yell that you were going to be late for breakfast.

You changed into new robes and tried to tame the wild animal that was your hair, but it was really no use, so you settled for pulling it back without accentuating your migraine. Sullenly, you dragged yourself away from bed, through the portrait hole, and down the steps toward the Great Hall.

It was all coming back in fuzzy little increments, wasn’t it? Last night. You grimaced when you remembered dancing and singing and playing exploding snap and giggling like mad all evening, like a little schoolgirl. The room had been buzzing with excited students and everyone was thoroughly enjoying their Sunday evening, despite the fact that Monday morning lessons loomed in the distance. Everything seemed to be better after some firewhisky, right? Blimey. The firewhisky. No wonder you had such an awful headache! That’s the last time you’d ever listen to Fred and George and -- oi. Bloody hell. Fred and George.

You were hit not only with another sharp pain through your skill, but with the overwhelming sensation of what exactly had happened. The truth. The painful, blinding, can’t-even-pretend-it-didn’t-happen truth.

And the truth was, of course, that you’d been so overpowered by your own giddiness mixed with the alcohol that you’d promptly danced the evening straight away and fell asleep uncomfortably in the armchair next to the fire quite early in the evening. One of them, one of the twins -- and which one, you didn’t know -- had taken it upon themselves to carry you from the common room and up to your dormitory before placing you safely in bed, all before you’d been too delirious to realize that you’d pulled him forward and kissed him. KISSED him.

But who was him exactly?

Your heart jumped into your throat, eager to escape, and you stopped short right in front of the Great Hall. How could you face them now? You didn’t even bloody know which one you’d embarrassed yourself in front of! Though, surely the one had told the other, so you reckoned you’d embarrassed yourself in front of them both at this point.

And then you saw him -- he had half of his body slung over the Gryffindor table, trying desperately to grab for the last bit of bacon Ron seemed to have snatched up. He flicked his red hair out of his eyes and took the final piece of toast off of Ron’s plate in an attempt to get his brother back for stealing the bacon from under his nose. And then a bright smile split his face as he sat back down, clearly satisfied with himself, and you knew right then and there that it had been him.

You’d kissed Fred, in a drunken, delirious state.

Your stomach grumbled. You knew that you desperately needed to eat, but you turned swiftly on your heel, away from the Great Hall, away from him, away from the mess that awaited you as you ignored it all and made way for the kitchens instead.

-- -

You felt as though you were walking on eggshells. You were conscious of every grin, every flutter of your eyelashes, every wave, every movement of your own so as not to come off a certain way.

There was no way you’d be able to avoid the two of them without rising suspicion, so you told yourself you’d go on as normal and only think or speak on the entire ordeal if one of them brought it up. It was proving rather difficult though, to not think on it at least. But it had been a week and thankfully, neither of them had brought it up to you. Fred and George continuously sent you winks across classrooms and teased you mercilessly, but this was nothing new; however, each and every time they said your name with an upward inflection, a question perched on their lips, you felt your heart constrict a little.

Why was this having such an effect on you? It’s not like you fancied Fred, or either one of them, for that matter.

But the butterflies that danced around in your stomach each and every time you saw him made you question everything you thought you knew about your heart. Were you only feeling this wave of nervousness because of the kiss-that-shouldn’t-have-been, or because you were actually developing feelings for him? And if you were developing feelings for him, were they genuine, or were they only because you’d kissed him? Or perhaps, maybe the kiss meant nothing in that it was simply just a kiss, a drunken, silly mistake. OI VEIGH. You internally scolded yourself for thinking in circles.

One particularly bad day, you’d been gawking. There was no other way of describing what you’d been doing. You were straight up staring, but not in an “I love you, let’s get married” type of way, but rather, “I need to look at you for a moment to see if these feelings I’m feeling are real or I’m just kidding myself” way. Of course, Fred couldn’t tell the difference, so when he caught you watching him attempt to cut bits of gurdyroot into five equal pieces, he smirked at you and asked, “Like what you see?”

You coughed in surprise on the air you were breathing and sat up a bit straighter. “Just watching your technique,” you blurted out, which didn’t sound any less pathetic, you reckoned. You just couldn’t wait to get out of the dungeons and back to the common room to stick your nose in a book and escape to someone else’s world for a bit.

But blimey, this was driving you mad. You hadn’t told anyone of this little adventure, had you? You thought about possibly consulting Ginny, though discussing the idea of you snogging one of her brothers probably wouldn’t be high on her priority list. Then you thought perhaps Hermione, who was always of a sound mind, but then you’d have to admit to the firewhisky and that wouldn’t benefit anyone. Then the possibility of Harry caught your attention, because he was always getting himself into conundrums, wasn’t he? He was probably an expert on damage control about now. Though when it came to romance, he was kind of awkward, so perhaps he wasn’t the best person to consult either.

You were nearly bursting at the seams with this story -- you just needed to get it off of your chest, you needed to be told that you weren’t crazy and that it was totally okay to be questioning these things you were feeling. But you hadn’t had enough time to find an appropriate confidant, which resulted in you spilling your guts to the absolute worst.

“I kissed him!”

In a moment of horror, your eyes widened and you brought your hands to your mouth in surprise, because you couldn’t believe you’d just said the words out loud. All it had been this whole time was a thought, right? Perhaps even a dream. Maybe you’d been imagining it the entire time. But now, saying it out loud, you realized that what had happened that evening was as real as the befuddled boy standing across from you.

Poor George arched an eyebrow and pressed his lips together to keep from laughing, you could tell. You began to shake your head and lift a finger, but he just took a step forward, his eyes softened now, as if to say, It’ll be alright, you know.  “Wait, Y/N --”

“Erm --” you were finding it really difficult to string together coherent sentences, because you weren’t exactly sure what you’d like to say. I may or may not be mad for your brother? I kissed him that one time when I was delirious and he hasn’t said anything and now I’m confused? So instead, you opted for, “Can we just -- go ahead and forget I’ve ever said anything?”

The grounds were absolutely bloody freezing -- the snow was coming down quite heavily now, everything already covered in a blanket of white, and you watched George shiver as he pulled his scarf tighter around his neck. Yet you felt as if your entire soul was on fire.

You noticed though, that he didn’t look surprised; Fred must’ve told him. You felt crimson red flush your cheeks and you so very much wanted to bury yourself underneath the covers of your bed in your dorm. Unfortunately for you, though, you had lessons soon. “Fred’s told you already, hasn’t he?”

“No, no, he didn’t,” George replied, eager to make sure you knew the truth.

“Reckon you think I’m out of my bloody mind, don’t you?”

“I thought that long before this whole debacle.”

You punched him square in the arm and he recoiled jokingly. “Ha haaaa,” you told him before dropping your head into your hands and groaning. When you finally had the courage to lift your head, you met George’s gaze and watched as the wind rustled his hair and snowflakes landed all over his robes. He peered at you sympathetically. “Can we just... please don’t tell Fred you know anything. If he hasn’t told you, I reckon he’s trying to repress it -- you know, kind of like a nightmare you don’t wish to remember!” George snorted at your attempt at making fun of yourself. “Or -- I dunno, maybe you could help me figure out how to broach the subject with him -- or maybe --”

George placed gentle hands onto your shoulders. “Oi, you really haven’t a clue what you’d like to do about this, d’you?”

You shook your head embarrassingly and started to groan again.

“Tell you what,” George said, gesturing for you two to head back inside the castle, “you think on it, and if you need any help, let me know. Once you come to a decision, I’ll help you execute a plan, and for the time being, this stays between us. Deal?”

For the first time in nearly a week, you felt somewhat better. You took a rather deep breath and let the cold, winter air fill your lungs before exhaling and letting your muscles de-tense. Your heart fluttered at his kindness, and the tenderness in his eyes as he watched you. “Thanks, George, I appreciate it.”

Then you picked up a huge wad of snow and threw it straight at him until he was pummeling you, too.

-- -

He winked at you just as you rolled your eyes and walked across the classroom and plopped yourself in the seat beside his. He smirked a bit, as if to say, Fancy meeting you here.

You glanced up toward the ceiling for no reason other than to not look directly at him for a moment. With your heart thundering dramatically in your chest, you internally sent out a plea to the universe, who apparently found it rather funny to pair you and Fred together in nearly every single lesson. What’ve I done to deserve this type of internal agony?

“Wow, together again,” Fred teased as he pulled out his spellbook from his bag. Then he threaded his brows together and thought for a moment, as if he was concentrating his hardest on a scientific discovery, “Don’t you find it kind of odd that we’ve been paired together in nearly every class? I mean, blimey, it’s as if our professors are trying to get the two of us to date or something.”

A lump appeared in your throat at the word date, and you swallowed to try and dislodge it. “Yeah,” you replied breathlessly, a nervous laugh escaping you, “odd.”

A few weeks ago, you would’ve been delighted to have been paired with Fred. Not because you were in love with him or anything, but because he was one of your best mates, wasn’t he? And now, as you inched as far away as you possibly could from him without looking suspicious, you felt a shift in your friendship -- a crack, if you will, that, as the days went on and you became more and more uncomfortable around him because of the secret you held close to you, seemed to be growing larger and the distance between you both bigger.

You had to admit, though, the two of you were pretty great together. Not in that way, but just as partners, as equals. As friends. Which is what you’d always been. Fred had this way about him that made even the most dreadful of lessons seem lighter, and you reckoned you could do far worse than having him as your partner. You wouldn’t want to be paired with a dreadful Slytherin in Potions now, would you? You made a mental note to thank the universe later and take back what you said about the agony thing.

“Right,” Fred began one afternoon as the two of you swiftly made your way up from the dungeons to the common room, “so I reckon we should probably meet sometime soon so we can get started on this dreadful assignment for Snape, so I’ll just cancel with Lee and George. What d’you say? This weekend?”

Your breath got caught in your throat when you realized that Fred wanted to cancel plans with his best mates to spend time with you, albeit, working on assignment for Snape. But it wasn’t due for a week! “Fred, you don’t have to do that --”

George appeared around the corner and waved at the two of you before making his way through the seat of students. Meanwhile, Fred just waved you off. “Nonsense. It’s no big deal. Not trying to get away from me, are you?” He smirked at you.

“Of course not,” you replied. George appeared in front of you both, immediately engaging Fred in some conversation that you were sure was centered around some type of mischief they were looking to get into, but the blood pounding in your ears seemed to drown everything out around you.

You hated this. There was no getting around it. Why had you stupidly kissed Fred? Why was your subconscious trying to make you fall in love when you had other pressing matters, like exams and things? And why had the universe caused this wedge between you and your two best friends in the entire world?

Fingers snapped in front of your eyes and everything came back into focus. George laughed breathlessly, “You alright? Zoned out there for a moment,”

“Not dreaming about working on that assignment with me, are you? Have got a few more days until then, I’m afraid.” Fred teased. You swallowed and watched as George’s eyes shifted from his brother’s to yours.

You were able to produce somewhat of a laugh and punched Fred in the arm, a little two hard, because the boys just peered from one another to you, with confused types of grins on their faces. “Hilarious, Freddie. I’ve -- I’ve just remembered that I’ve got another assignment to finish up, so I’m going to head to the library -- but I’ll see you both later!”

And before either of the twins could convince you to come with them back to the common room to take a break, you sped off toward the library, trying with all of your might to catch your breath that seemed to have been stolen away.

-- -

You vowed after that night in the library that you were not going to let Fred get to you, no matter what. You told yourself to stay calm and grounded and to push aside whatever happened. To focus on what was in front of you. There was absolutely no point in getting worked up when it had obviously meant nothing to him, for he still hadn’t mentioned it. Who knows? Perhaps you’d also apologized in your delirious state, and he played it off. You just needed to move forward. And if your feelings were true, and it was meant to be, it would happen, wouldn’t it? The two of you.

You’d done a surprisingly good job of keeping your promise to yourself.

You found yourself falling back into your old routine. Each and every time Fred teased you or sent a wink your way, you merely rolled your eyes, reminding yourself that this was his normal behaviour and that there was absolutely no reason for you to read into it. He didn’t act overly flirty, he didn’t try and hold your hand or hug you or anything -- in fact, now that you were less focused on the entire ordeal, you came to realize that he was showing no signs that anything had happened at all.

You were busy in the common room, flipping furiously through a copy of the Daily Prophet, when the twins dropped their belongings and fell onto the couch across from you.

Without looking up, you could feel them both smirking at you. “I am not engaging in any type of firewhisky-related activity with you two again,” you told them straightforwardly.

“Why,” Fred teased, “because you’re worried about doing something you’ll regret again?”

Your heart nearly stopped beating at those few words. You froze and lifted your head; Fred was peering at you as though nothing was out of the ordinary, and George was looking back and forth between the two of you, looking as though he was ready to jump in with something if you needed him too.

“W-what d’you mean?” you asked tentatively, though you weren’t sure you wanted him to answer.

This was it, you reckoned. He was going to bring it up and then it’ll be out there in the open for the three of you to mull over; you’ll become awkward and uncomfortable around them both and that’ll be the new normal. Absolutely bloody fabulous.

Fred shrugged, as if it were obvious. “Your one woman show was quite the entertainment, you know.”

Oh. That you remembered. You breathed a deep sigh of relief, but then realized as the twins began to laugh that you weren’t exactly off the hook. It wasn’t the kiss they’d been discussing, but you reckoned that singing obnoxiously in the common room was probably just as embarrassing.

“No matter,” Fred said, “We haven’t even got any on us. Now if you’d both excuse me, I’ve got to go and ask that lovely lady out on a date. She’s been rejecting me for weeks, but I know she’ll come round.” He straightened his tie as if he were off to a business meeting and stood up, sending you and George bright grins before he went off to the other end of the common room to where Angelina was sitting reading a book. “Wish me luck.”

You watched with furrowed brows as Fred waltzed over to her, looking positively chuffed and confident, his aura of confidence engulfing the room entirely. He sat down next to her and you felt your heart begin to thunder against your ribcage; you realized now that you wanted to know the answer to Fred’s proposal probably more so than he did. And when, inevitably, Angelina rolled her eyes in a teasing sort of way but nodded her head in agreement as her eyes sparkled, you were surprised at the feelings swirling in your stomach.

It wasn’t sadness, or heartbreak, or confusion at all.

What you felt, in actuality, was relief.

You knew deep down that you didn’t love him, and thank Merlin he didn’t love you, too.

When he pulled Angelina to her feet and guided her toward the portrait hole, he looked over toward you and George and sent a wink as he bit down on his bottom lip, and for the first time in weeks, the eye roll you sent him back was genuine, and you finally felt as though you had your best mate back.

Once Fred was gone and completely out of earshot, you jumped up excitedly and began to shake George by the shoulders. “Blimey, woman, what has gotten into you?” he asked through a laugh.

“George, don’t you see?” you pleaded with him. “Clearly, whatever the bloody hell came over me doesn’t matter to Fred, because he’s sought out Ange instead! And it doesn’t matter to me either -- all those feelings I thought I had were merely because I was a nervous wreck due to the mistake I’d made. It was all in my head, wasn’t it? The feelings, I mean,” you rushed to continue when you noticed George’s confused features, “or whatever they were. Reckon I can just forget about that kiss now.” You sank comfortably into the couch, feeling as though a huge weight had finally been lifted off of your shoulders after having carried it around for bloody months, and you picked up your copy of the Daily Prophet again, reading giddily.

George leaned forward in the armchair, pressing his elbows into his knees. “You’re just going to forget about the entire thing?”

“Well, I don’t see why I’ve got to harp on it anymore, you know? Besides, I’ve got so many other things to focus on,” you told him before folding up your news clipping and setting it down on the table. “Speaking of all those things I need to do, I’d like to avoid them for the evening. What d’you say we break curfew and head down to the Quidditch pitch? I’d really like to give you a run for your money, Weasley.”

You noticed the mischievous glint in his eyes, and he was up and back from the boys dormitory with his broomstick before you could second guess yourself. You felt yourself blush when he said, “Whatever makes you happy. But I’ve got to warn you, I’m absolutely going to crush you out there.”

You pulled a thick scarf around your neck and scoffed before hopping through the portrait hole. “In your dreams, mate.”

-- -

You both landed dramatically on the couch after spending far too much time out in the cold. You wondered if your nose and ears were going to turn permanently red, and you rubbed your hands together as you inched closer toward the fire.

“You may have gotten me that time,” you told George, who was slowly sipping his steaming hot tea, “but it’s only because I’ve had an off few weeks. Now that everything’s back to normal though, I’ll be able to kick your arse just like you deserve.”

“Easy there,” he replied, and though his voice was soft, it echoed throughout the desolate common room, “don’t go getting any ideas. Haven’t you heard that Fred and I are the greatest beaters Gryffindor has ever seen?”

You actually snorted. “Right, okay, sure -- whatever helps you sleep at night.”

You realized then just how tired you actually were. You sank back into the couch and closed your eyes for just a moment; if you gave yourself a few minutes, you knew that you’d be absolutely out cold and probably snoring. You giggled a bit at the thought -- it’s no wonder Fred didn’t fall in love with you!

You heard George laugh a little too, and his voice was quiet in your ears. “Come on, Y/N, it’s nearly one -- let’s get to bed.”

And then you bolted forward, just like you had the morning after drinking all of that firewhisky. Realization hit you like a ton of bricks; next to you, George froze, a bit confused by your jolt, and you just peered at him, reliving it all over again.

Come on then, let’s get you to bed, Y/N.

It was the way he said your name, both that evening and tonight, filled with such tenderness and care that you’d be able to recognize it anywhere, easily pick it out of a lineup. You wouldn’t forget it for as long as you lived.

George threaded his brows together and shook his head slightly, as if to say, Are you alright?

And before you could let yourself figure out a better way of doing this, you breathed out, “It was you.”

His features twisted from confusion to nervousness, and then to relief. His face was flushed red, but you couldn’t tell if it was from the cold air or the fact that he was remembering, and reliving it all with you.

It was George that you’d kissed that night, not Fred.

It was evident that he didn’t know what to say. He parted his lips, as if he were going to open his mouth and speak, but nothing happened. You laughed a bit at how bloody stupid you’d been, and then grinned sympathetically at him. “It was you, the whole time.”

You wondered how you’d missed it, how you’d assumed it was Fred. And then, as George tentatively inched forward and placed his hand on top of yours, that all those feelings of butterflies and nervousness and heart-stopping moments hadn’t been because of Fred at all.

Whenever Fred had said something cheeky and your heart began to race, it was only because you’d caught George peering at you first.

When you stumbled over your words that time in a lesson, when Fred had jokingly told you that he thought your professors were trying to get you two to date, it was only because your head and heart subconsciously yearned for his twin instead.

And when your heart had started to race that day on the snow-covered grounds, at the idea of telling Fred anything at all, it was actually because of the tenderness in George’s eyes as he promised to not say a word to anyone.

“Why -- why didn’t you say anything?” you asked him.

It was so odd to see him so nervous; he and Fred were the most confident people in the bloody world, weren’t they? George sucked in a breath and you felt yourself tighten the grip around his hands as he spoke his own truth. “I dunno... you were so tired that night and so I figured it was just a mistake. But then you got all weird around us and so I figured perhaps not. Then you went and thought it was Fred and confided in me that one day... I just didn’t want to scare you away. You were so upset and confused and I didn’t want to worsen it. I figured you’d come to the realization on your own -- or, I hoped you would.”

You bit down on your lip and continued to laugh; you had felt so embarrassed by the idea of telling Fred when you thought it was him, but with George, it felt okay.

“Look,” he continued, squeezing your hands, “I’m not really sure where you’re at right now -- I mean, blimey, we’ve been best mates for years, haven’t we? If you’d like to forget the entire thing and go back to normal, then I -- I can do that.” He paused for a moment to consider the look in your eyes. He sucked in another breath, as if more oxygen in his lungs would give him the courage to continue. “I just... I don’t know if I want to.”

He was lucky then, because you didn’t know if you wanted to either. Perhaps it wasn’t the firewhisky that made you abandon all rational -- perhaps it was George and the way he made you feel -- because you pushed aside all what if’s and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer to you before gently brushing your lips over his. His surprise lasted about two seconds before he melted into you completely, and it was as if the feeling of his lips moving slowly against yours brought back all recognition from that night. Of course it had been him -- the faint taste of cinnamon and vanilla transported you right back.

When you broke apart, you both hovered close to one another for a moment before looking at one another and beginning to laugh at the ridiculousness of the entire ordeal. You pressed your lips together and said, “Normal’s overrated anyway, isn’t it?” He nodded and brought your hands to his lips. “Go to Hogsmeade with me.”

“What?”

“Tomorrow,” you told him straightforwardly, “I’ve been dying to head into Zonko’s. Then let’s grab lunch and a drink at the pub. No firewhisky, though." You both laughed.

He smirked at you and you watched as the fire reflected in his eyes burned brighter. “Did you just ask me out on a date?”

“That depends,” you replied, somehow feeling even more confident than before, “are you going to say yes?”

“Of course I’m going to say yes.”

You pulled him to his feet and he pulled you into an embrace; you wondered again how you’d gone on so bloody long not realizing it had been him who you’d kissed. You thought about apologizing for it, though you just squeezed your eyes shut and leaned your head against his chest, and you realized that he’d somehow be able to hear all of the unspoken words inside of you. Thank you for being so kind about all of this, you’d say. He pulled you tighter toward him and he pressed a kiss to your hair. I care about you too much not to be anything but that.

You both stepped apart. Awkwardly, you began to fumble with the strings on your sweater and George ran a hand nervously through his hair. This was going to be so strange, wasn’t it? Dating your best friend. Though as odd as the prospect seemed, you thought for a moment why you two hadn’t been doing this the entire time.

“Erm, so, tomorrow,” George stumbled a bit, walking with you toward the steps up to the girls’ dormitory. “Lunch, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agreed, feeling overly giddy as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Tomorrow.”

Just as you were both headed up to your respective dormitories, George turned and said your name and stopped you. “Yeah?” you asked.

He shook his head slightly and furrowed his brows. “You know I’m only joking, right? It was Fred that night.”

Hot, bubbly panic took you over at those words, but then the git began to laugh hysterically and so you tossed a throw pillow directly at him and it hit him square in the head. For Merlin’s sake, these two you were going to drive you bloody mad.

“In that case, I won’t be seeing you for lunch tomorrow,” you called in a sing-song type of voice before heading up the steps.

You were right at the door of your dormitory when you heard George laughing still. “Aw, come on Y/N, I know that’s not true. You find me far too irresistible. I’ll see you tomorrow, love.”

You bit down on your lip to suppress a giggle. You’d have been really bloody angry had he not been so right about the irresistible thing.

“I’ll be sure to bring Fred along, too.”

“Weasley!”

[iliveiloveiwrite]

You Know What They Say About Weddings // R.W. (celebration fic)

Request: Omg congratulations!!!! Could you do a Ron x Reader with the "theres only one bed" trope and fluff prompts 11 and 1? Thank you so much and congrats again!! - @mischi3f-manag3d

Fluff 1: “I think I’m in love with you.”

Fluff 11: “Apparently all our friends have a bet going that we end up together.”

A/N: Just me that's ridiculously attracted to the photo below? Anyway! Here is your request, I hope you like!! 

Pairing: Ron Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: I don’t think there are any - just a load of fluff really.

Word count: 1.6k

The band hired by Molly Weasley upon the recommendation of an old friend played in the corner of the marquee. The Weasley family and their friends all crowded there; happy to watch the eldest Weasley child, Bill, marry the love of his life, Fleur.

It had been a wonderful ceremony; very few left the service with dry eyes.

You found it hard to keep your emotions in check through it all; wanting so desperately to turn to the youngest Weasley son beside you and ask if he felt the same way as you – if he loved you just as much as you have loved him since Fifth Year.

You think back to this morning; when you had arrived at the Burrow in time to watch the marquee be raised. Your eyes had landed on Ron, and they hadn’t left him. Your eyes ran over his body; drinking in the sight of him in a suit – sleeves rolled up due to the already warm day. Not wanting to be caught, you turned away and rid your mind of the thoughts running through it at warp speed.

With a laugh at the memory, you drag Ron onto the dancefloor. Awkwardness radiates from him, but he dutifully places his hand on your waist and takes your hand in his as your other hand places itself on his shoulder. You laugh together as you try to follow the beat of the song; the dance lessons given by McGonagall doing nothing for either of your left feet. You step on his toes repeatedly, but he doesn’t complain once; he just changes tact – instead of trying to attempt the waltz, he simply changes the hold of his arms and decides to have fun instead.

Spinning around the dancefloor; you can’t help but let yourself imagine. You can’t help but let yourself think of the future you so desperately desired with the very redhead holding you so gently in his arms.

You know what they say about weddings.

-----

Fred leans down to Harry’s ear, pointing towards Ron and you on the dancefloor, “When do you think they’ll pull their finger out?”

Harry laughs, “Worried about the bet, Fred?”

Fred snorts, “Hardly.”

Harry watches his best friend twirl you around on the dancefloor before pulling you back in as you laugh. Harry swivels to face Fred, “You know what they say about weddings.”

--------

You throw off your heels; groaning at the feel of your blood rushing back to your feet. At this height, Ron can easily throw an arm over your shoulder, “Better?”

You nod, “Much.”

Following Ron upstairs, you stifle yawn after yawn. The reception had been one of the best nights of your life; dancing, drinking, laughing – it was a truly happy night. You had danced with Ron for a lot of night; dragging him to the dancefloor for one dance but then staying with him for three more. He eventually left to get drinks whilst you danced with Hermione, Ginny, and Luna – a wide smile across your face.

You hadn’t missed the looks exchanged by the girls when Ron came back to steal your attention. You also hadn’t missed the conversation between Ron’s family and your friends as they watched you continue to the dance with the red-haired man.

You shake your head as you remember that moment; you were aware of the bet they had going. Hermione unable to keep a secret from you had blabbed it to you less than a month after it was made. She felt awful for keeping it from you, but you assured her you didn’t mind too much – curious as to who had what date.

“You don’t mind sharing my room with me?” Ron checks.

You shake your head, smiling at him sleepily, “I don’t mind.”

Ron relaxes somewhat, but he still remains tense, “There’s only one bed.”

You roll your eyes, “How many nights did I sneak into the hospital to stay with you after you hurt your leg?”

Ron blushes, “You’re right. I’ll let you get changed first… just knock when you’re done.”

In that moment, he looks so helpless that you lift yourself onto your tiptoe to press a kiss to his cheek. The last thing you see before closing his bedroom door is Ron pressing a hand to his cheek with a wide smile.

You knock lightly on the door when you’re done changing. Ron enters the room with a light blush dusting his cheeks; his eyes running over body quickly. He turns to his dresser, pulling out his pyjamas.

“I’ll wait outside for you to finish changing.”

Ron shakes his head, “Don’t worry about it; just turn around.”

“If you’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” He laughs.

You turn to face the singular window; the moon is high in the sky and the sky is so clear that you can see the stars. Looking into the garden, you see Bill and Fleur still dancing – alone, no longer surrounded by family and friends. They have no idea they have an audience; they just remain in each other’s arms, finally happy to have a private moment between them. You shift your gaze when Bill dips his heads to kiss his wife.

You think to yourself; there’s just something about weddings.

Ron coughs; bringing you out of your reverie. Turning around, you find him dressed in some old sweatpants and an old shirt. Your heart softens at the sight of him; his hands flex at his side – his nervous tick

His bed is just big enough for two; you lie side by side on your back, hands laid out by your sides. It would take less than a millimetre of space; less than a second of time to reach out and take his hand in yours, to tangle your fingers together.

But you don’t. You lie next to him; mind racing just as fast as your heart – any sense of tiredness hanging over you chased away the moment you laid down next to the boy you’ve loved since Fifth Year.

“Did you have fun today?” Ron asks in the dark; filling the silence.

“I did. It was nice to see everyone before we go back to school. Harry and Ginny looked particularly close.”

Ron frowns, “My sister and my best friend.”

You giggle, turning onto your side, “Don’t act like you don’t approve.”

Ron sighs with a smile,  “You’ve caught me out,” He furrows his brows, “Did you see them all whispering when we were dancing?”

Nodding, you bite your lip, “Apparently all our friends have a bet going that we end up together.”

Ron snorts, reaching for your hand in the dark, “I know. Harry told me about it tonight.”

You sit up in bed; not letting go of his hand, “How long has it been going on? Hermione told me about it but she never said when it started.”

“Since last year. Harry only brought it up because if we get together by Saturday, he wins the bet.”

You laugh, “I can’t believe them.”

“Absolute gits,” Ron laughs.

You play with your fingers, dropping his hand to do so, “What do you think of the bet?”

Ron sits up, “Why?”

“It doesn’t annoy you?” You question; risking a peek at his face in the limited light of the moon.

“Not particularly. It’s a harmless bet.”

You nod your head; trying not to think too much of it.

“Why? What do you think of the bet?”

You sigh heavily; wondering how best to phrase what you’ve wanted to say to him all day, deciding that the truth is the best way to go. “I think I’m in love with you,” You state; bluntly, honestly.

Ron’s mouth drops open and you start talking without giving him a chance to say anything, “You don’t need to feel the same; really, you don’t,” You grab a pillow, “I’ll go sleep on the couch, I’ll see you in the morning.”

You make to leave but Ron’s hand grips your wrist, “Sit back down. At least give me a chance to reply.”

You sit back down on the bed slowly; your hand still grips the pillow in case you need to sleep downstairs. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Ron asks.

Shrugging your shoulders, you say, “I’m not sure. I wanted to, I really did but then you were with Lavender and I didn’t feel like talking to you a lot and then, and then, and then, I guess I didn’t want to ruin the friendship.”

“I wondered why you pulled away through Lavender; I barely saw you.”

You sigh; crushing the pillow to your chest, “It hurt too much to look at you.”

Ron shuffles on the bed, “If I had known-”

“You’d have what?” You interrupt, “You’d have broken up with her?”

Ron shakes his head, “I’d have never dated her.”

“What?”

“I’d have never dated her,” He repeats, “I’d have asked you out.”

“Oh,” You state.

“Yeah,” Ron mumbles, looking down.

“We’ve mucked this up haven’t we?”

“Nah, we haven’t,” Ron laughs, “We just delayed their bet.”

You giggle, “The bet. Who do we want to win?”

“Who’s the closest to tonight?”

You think for a moment; remembering the piece of paper that Hermione explained was the bet. “I think you were right earlier,” You say, “Harry is the closest by Saturday.”

“What do you think? Shall we let Harry win?”

You smile softly, leaning closer to Ron, “I think I’m okay with Harry winning.”

“Thank Merlin,” Ron whispers before pulling you in for a kiss.

His hand caresses your cheek, and he smiles into the kiss. You soon begin to laugh at the absurdity of it all; having to pull away from the redhead and assure him that it isn’t him you’re laughing at. Your jealousy over Lavender never spurred you to confess your feelings, neither did the Department of Mysteries, but a bet and a wedding has you falling into Ron’s arms.

Well, you know what they say about weddings.

***********

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[writingsoftheghost]

The Little Things

Based on this prompt about Virgil falling asleep in Janus’s lap and him crying because they haven’t been this close in years.

Virgil feels himself start to nod off, Janus had picked out the movie they were watching, and Virgil had seen it enough times already to not feel too determined to stay awake. It had been a few days since he had gotten a good night’s sleep, so a nap was sounding really great right then. He absentmindedly lays his head down in Janus’s lap, like he’d done a million times before, during a million other movie nights just like this one.But this time was different. Virgil hadn’t done this in years. 

This wasn’t even their first movie night of the week, but it was the first one that Virgil had initiated himself. He didn’t know what had possessed him to do so, he just felt like he and the snake should watch a movie. He even let the reptilian trait pick the movie.

Virgil’s head lands in the scaled side’s lap and he instantly falls asleep. The familiar safety doing its job of making him relax just the same way it always used to.

Janus barely managed to muffle his gasp of surprise as the smaller side’s soft snores start up. Virgil. Virgil was asleep in his lap, Virgil had just curled up in his lap to sleep.

Janus lifts a shaky, tentative hand towards the smaller side, he gently and quietly starts stroking the emo’s hair. Virgil makes a soft noise of content and Janus is done for, hot tears start spilling down his cheeks.

Patton walks by on his way to the kitchen then, he pauses when he sees Janus crying on the couch. His brow furrows in concern, “Jan?” he asks softly.

The scaled side’s head snaps, “Shhh...” he hisses harshly.

Patton cocks his head to the side in confusion, Janus gives him a shaky smile and points at the sleeping side in his lap.

Patton’s eyes widen and he gives Janus a smile and a nod, he remembers the first time Virgil had fallen asleep on him, and he knew this was probably somewhat similar to that. He drapes a blanket over the sleeping side. He gives Janus one last look, before grabbing a snack and heading back to his room.

The room is enveloped in silence once again, Janus’s crying muffled by the hand not occupied by the constant stroking of Virgil’s hair.

A single tear falls from the snake’s face and he fails to catch it before it hits the sleeping traits face. Virgil’s eyes snap open.

He looks around quizzically. His face turns from confused to concerned when he sees the tears on Janus’s face. “Jay? What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” His voice is soft with sleep and laced with worry.

Janus stiffens for a second before reaching out to pat the side’s hand, he smiles warmly, “Nothing’s wrong, darling. Go back to sleep.”

Virgil sits up, eyeshadow darkening, “Did I do something wrong?”

Janus makes a noise in the back of his throat, “No. No, darling. This isn’t your fault. Everything’s alright, I promise. Now, why don’t you go back to sleep?” He lifts a scaled hand to cup Virgil’s face, “You look so tired, my little shadow.”

Virgil leans into the touch, a small sigh escaping him, “I still want to know why you’re crying,” he hums.

Janus gingerly pulls the other side into a hug, Virgil relaxes into the embrace, resting his head on the snake’s shoulder, “I just missed you...so much.” Janus whispers.

Virgil wraps his arms around Janus, “I missed you too,” he hums sleepily.

Janus chuckles fondly when he feels the smaller trait fall back into a deep sleep, apparently satisfied that everything was okay.

-------

Finally got this typed up for the second time! It’s been in my notebook for months!

Taglist:

@idont-freaking-know @aceawkwardunicorn @kawaiikat54 @emo--nightmaree @a-yeet-bop-bop-boom @me-a-mess-morelikelythanyouthink @katlikethesword @tranquil-space-ninja

@irritating-lady-knight @ohheavenlylord @granddragonwitch

[oopskashish]

Broken love

A/N: alrighty, I was feeling hella angsty last night so I wrote this. Hope you all like it.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Summary: Fred has fallen in love with someone rather than the reader, his girlfriend.

Warning: it's pure angst. Maybe a lil fluffy in the starting but it only contributes in the pain.

Y/N came into the gryffindor common room, exhausted both physically and mentally. The load of assignments was too much for anyone to bear, but after getting sick recently, she had to stay in the Hospital wing and miss out more.

She smiled when she saw Fred, her boyfriend. She adored him, she really did. They had met in their first year on train and from then she and the twins became best of friends.

The beautiful feelings bloomed up in forth year. It was out of the blue, but heavenly as ever. The two loved each other a lot.

Fred was a fantastic boyfriend. He was affectionate and himself was just so lovable. She adored his jokes and pranks, and participated in a few herself.

Even Fred's entire family loved her immensely. Molly always sent a sweater and many delicacies for her on Christmas while Arthur always praised her for knowing so much about the muggle world.

His brothers and she shared the same love for quidditch. Also, she and Charlie could ramble about dragons forever and a half. Ginny and her were good friends, always finding themselves staying up at nights and talking till the neither of them could keep their eyes open.

But recently, they both had been slipping away. She blamed it all on the pressure from school. Of course, why would they slip away because of a reason other than this?

Fred looked at the entrance and got up when she came in. The two of them walked to each other.

"Can I talk to you?" Fred asks her.

"Of course, love." She smiles.

"In private." She nods. Fred leads her to his dorm.

She couldn't help but notice how he didn't reach out for her hand just like he always did. She shrugged off the thought.

Maybe he is just tired or something is there on his mind.

She sat on his bed and watched him pace in front of her, running a hand through those soft red hair she loved to play with.

"Fred?" She watches how he didn't meet her eyes as halted in front of her and looked at the ground. "Is there something wrong?"

"I'm sorry." Fred exhales out.

"What happened?" She asks softly, standing up and cupping his face and making him look at her.

"I am in love with someone else." Fred says.

Y/N's jaw drops as tears start to form in her eyes, her hands falter away. They were quaking, trembling with the sudden pang of pain that she felt spread from her chest to her entire body like a wildfire.

"With whom?" She whispers, her voice thick with emotions. It was a wonder how she didn't sobbed at the last word.

"Angelina."

Her eyes shut close as she looked at the ground, breathing heavily.

Of course, it was Angelina.

She noticed on breakfast a few days ago how Fred's eyes were set on her, mesmerized by each action. She had shrugged it off, not letting the thought get in her head.

She had watched how he got distracted by staring at her, so intently that a bludger had hit him, knocking him off his broom.

She had noticed the growing interactions between the two, unusual how the two would always be blushing.

She felt his hand wipe away the tears that were rolling down her cheek, she stepped back. She opened her eyes which were now red.

"I am so sorry." He whispered.

Y/N bit her lip, holding back a sob.

"I hope she makes you happy like I thought I did." She whispered, her voice breaking painfully.

With each word she felt a thousand swords pierce her heart and twist in the most tortuous manner possible. Her heart was bleeding agony, and it slipped into her veins, rushing to each part of her body at the speed of light.

She picked up the bag that she had abandoned on his bed, and swung it on her shoulders. She wiped the tears away, which was useless since only more came out.

She wrapped her arms around herself, and walked to the door.

"Y/N."

She squeezed her eyes shut. Hearing her name from him only made her soul shatter into a hundred thousand pieces, all laying broken on the floor.

"Can we still be friends?" He asks her in a whisper.

"Sorry Fred," she chokes out, "but I need to heal first."

She slipped out of the door before he could say another word. She dashed her way to her room.

Fortunately it was empty.

She took a bag, and opened it. She put all the belongings of Fred in it. All the love letters he had written to her, all the gifts, his shirt, the jumpers made by Molly, and everything that had a connection with him.

She wrote a letter to Fred, telling him that she can't have all this stuff anymore. She wrote to Molly, apologising for returning it, but she needed to let go of Fred completely to move on.

With each curve of letter, she cried and let the pain flood through the ink. She wiped away her tears, preventing them to smudge the letter. It was agonising to let him go.

But he wasn't hers anymore, and that was the sad truth.

She put the letters in the bag, writing to Fred that pass the letter to Molly when he was ready to tell his mother.

She zipped the bag, planning to give it to him via the owl. Her legs shook as she fell on the ground, her knees finally collapsing as a sob tore it's way through her throat.

She cried till her lungs were aching with a raw pain that was nothing in comparison to how she felt emotionally. She hugged herself, as if trying to warm herself in a world of eternal snow.

She wanted to get rid of all the memories. She wanted to let go of the thought of his smile, that warm grin which wasn't meant for her, not anymore. She wanted to forget how ecstatic she felt around him. She wanted to erase him completely.

But she wondered how will she get rid of the heart that loved him so relentlessly.

-/-/-/-

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[aprilsrant]

Happiness.

Harry Potter x Slytherin!Fem!Reader.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: mentions of the war, mentions of death/dying (promise nothing too serious), kind of angsty but fluff in the end. Enemies to lovers (kind of). Loosely based on the song Compass by The Neighbourhood.

A/N: This is a gift for my amazing girl Val, @minty-malfoy, I hope you can enjoy this fic, it was really fun to write. Happy Holidays to everyone reading this and to all of my followers, I love and appreciate all of you so much!

English is not my first language. Pictures are not mine. Open for more quality.

“I'm lucky you've been keeping me around

You're the star I look for every night

When it's dark, you'll stick right by my side.”

                                      Compass, The Neighbourhood.

Harry had never been one to believe in luck or chances, but there was no denying that ever since he was born, his entire destiny had been written in stone by someone who wanted nothing more than to destroy him; there was no denying that it felt like years of bad luck and a curse strong enough to affect everyone around him had been placed on his shoulders even before he could walk. 

After years of fighting Voldemort and his followers, Harry had the tendency of thinking that the norms of normality didn’t apply to him. Every new term at Hogwarts meant a new danger, threatening his life, his friends and the rest of the Wizarding Community that wasn’t part of the elite group of blood supremacists. 

Therefore, finding someone never did the top of his list when the number one was surviving through it all. Finding someone meant, at least to him, a glimpse of ordinariness and a sense of home, things that he never remembered of experiencing outside of Hogwarts and the Burrow. That being said, not under any circumstances Harry had believed encountering her would have been possible. 

(Y/N) was someone he had ignored and bound in a cage of old prejudice because of an ancient — and unhealthy — rivalry, one started centuries before they set foot on the castle. Their relationship wasn’t one for the romance movies the Muggles loved, those where the protagonists fall in love the moment they see each other. Instead, Harry and (Y/N) loathed the other ever since the first Potion class in their sixth year. 

For a Slytherin, dreams and ambitions are what you hold closely to your heart and anyone trying to defy them, or achieve them first, is waving a battle flag right in front of you, too loud to dismiss — or perhaps, the receiver of the message is too proud to ignore —. For (Y/N), seeing Harry Potter get all of Slughorn’s attention and praise when she had been the best on the subject for the last five years, was a slap in the face interpreted as a sign to unleash the rabid dogs of war.

If anyone had told Harry that he would grow to love her, to adore every piece of her, he would have laughed while claiming the person was mental. But, what was once a feud quickly transformed into a weird, unpredictable friendship. After that, it was only a matter of time for feelings to blossom.

Neither of them wanted to admit it, but deep inside of their chests and hearts, both knew that the sweaty hands, the longing stares, the intimacy of their jokes and the tenderness of their touch wasn’t the part of the play that friends acted.

It was then that the idea of bad luck and cursed for life appeared on his head again. How could he be so selfish to let her into his life when a real war was coming for him and for everyone who dared to choose his side? How could he pretend that the claws of death weren’t reaching for him, that his life didn’t depend on the shaky and ancient hands holding the scissors? Harry knew pulling Hermione and Ron, and his whole family, into the mess was already bad enough, but doing it to the girl who had become an unexpected beacon of light would make him even more guilty. It wasn’t fair that he had to worry about whether being with her or not would endanger her life, but Harry hadn’t been born for normality.

“Why are you ignoring me?” Harry heard her voice from behind him, strong but trying to cover the anger and hurt. It was only the two of them in the corridor since most of the other students were still in class or using their free period to study. The distance separating them gave the sensation of facing an endless ocean, one you could never cross. “Did I do or say something upsetting? Is it because of your friends? I know Ron doesn’t particularly like me but I promise I’m trying.”

“It’s not that and I’m not ignoring you,” Harry responded shortly, not stopping his walk or daring to glance back at her, afraid of giving in with only seeing the expression plastered in her face. The cold words escaping from his mouth and his attitude, rising the fire in the pit of her stomach.

“What do you mean you are not ignoring me, Harry?,” she scoffed while the pace of her footsteps increased to chase after the boy,  “you can’t even look me in the eye and say it to my face.”

“I’m answering your questions, am I not? In what way is this ignoring you then?” (Y/N) had admired Harry’s tendencies to sarcasm or ironic responses ever since they became friends — and perhaps even before —, but now she wanted to slap him for acting so unfaced.

“Well, I don’t know, maybe because one day you look like you’re finally about to ask me on a date but the next one, you avoid me as if I were sick!”

Harry’s steps faltered, his chest tightened at the thought of (Y/N) reciprocating his feelings.

“Please, just tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it,” she whispered, putting herself in front of the boy.

“You did nothing wrong.”

“Then why are you acting like this? Is it because I’m a Slytherin?,” (Y/N) insisted. Now, Harry could see the ache and a hungry desperation in her eyes to know the answers, only there because of him. “Just don’t leave me, I- I can’t bear it. We can go back to hating each other if it makes it easier, but don’t do this, don’t leave me like this.”

“I don’t hate you, (Y/N), but I can’t give you what you want,” Harry said watching as her hands took hold of his owns, making his heart skipped a beat, “I’m not someone that can live a normal life, not with Voldemort threatening me and everyone I’m close with.” Harry didn’t miss her efforts to not flinch at the mention of the Dark Lord.

One of her hands travelled all the way up to his right cheek, the feeling of Harry’s skin and the way the boy had leaned into the touch of her fingers, forgetting for just a second all the worries plaguing his mind, had (Y/N)’s stomach almost bursting. 

“I don’t want nor need a normal life, Harry. I want you, I couldn’t care less about the rest,” she confessed.

“But I care! I care about what’s going to happen to you!,” He yelled (?), “you can get hurt, you can die, (Y/N)!”

“And so can you! Let me remind you, you’ve been there a couple of times now, Harry.” She was glad of choosing the empty corridor to confront him, not having to endure the hushed whispers and the stares, pointing at her as if she wouldn’t notice. “If there’s a war coming then I prefer to spend this few minutes of peace with you.”

“But if you-”

“And if I die, then I got to be with you in the end,” (Y/N) interrupted him, “I’m not afraid of dying, Harry, but I would love to live a little before doing so.”

He closed his eyes, releasing a shaky breath before embracing her figure and resting his head against her shoulders, smelling the signature and familiar fragrance of her perfume. A small smile appeared on (Y/N)’s face while she let herself enjoy the feeling of being in his arms, guarded from the evils outside the castle and loved by the boy she once used to loathe.

“We all deserve some happiness, and maybe even a tad of normalcy, Harry,” she whispered in his ear before looking at his green eyes and closing the distance between their lips.

Taglist: @vivianweasley @feetoffthetablee @gcdric @shadowsinger11 @thisismynerdyself @cappsikle @idont-knowrn @theweasleysredhair @aesthetically-hailey @slytherinsunrise @bannerbubble @lilac-wrists @storyisnotover

[heytherejulietx]

Blood ~ Jughead Jones

Masterlists

Notes - So this one might suck but I wanted to post it anyways because this is the first WIP I’ve finished in a while. Tell me what you think!

Warnings - Blood, mentions of violence, swearing, angst.

Word count - 1.3k.

Riverdale tag list - @idont-knowrn @bucky-j-barnes @adorably-sweet-hufflepuff

Jughead tag list - @kpopgirlbtssvt

If you’d like to be added to any tag list please just ask!

Her entire body flinched when the door had slammed open. It hit the wall so hard that it shook the thin walls of the trailer, and probably left a dent in the wall where the door handle had impacted first. Y/N's eyes immediately shot over to watch as Jughead slammed the door behind him again, and didn't even spare her a glance as he stalked through the trailer towards the bathroom.

"Jug?" She asked, clearly concerned as she stood up to follow him. "Hey, what happened?" She asked when he hadn't responded.

"Nothing." He responded through gritted teeth, his body tensing up.

Before he could walk into the bathroom she reached out to grab a fistful of his leather sleeve, trying to stop him. "Baby talk to me, what happened?"

"Nothing, will you just wait out there?"

Y/N almost flinched when he had turned back to look at her with such an angry expression. He had never once looked at her like that, and it truthfully scared her. He looked almost... murderous. She opened her mouth to say something else, wanting to know what possibly could have happened to get him in such a state, though she froze when she caught sight of his hands. They were covered in blood. When she looked closer she could see the crimson liquid also was staining his shirt, and it was enough to make her feel nauseated. Though the thing that scared her the most was that she could tell it wasn't his.

It was someone else's.

"Jug?" She whispered, reaching for his hand, only to have him pull it away immediately. "What happened."

He hesitated again. She watched as his eyebrows furrowed and a small crease formed in between them, a frown curving his lips downwards. His posture remained stiff as he took in a deep breath, before just closing his eyes as he shook his head. "We took care of Penny."

If she had felt sick before, she felt one-hundred times worse after he had said that. He took care of Penny... as in he killed her? Her eyes scanned over the blood again and she held her breath as the possibility of him having actually killed someone ran through her mind.

Could he?

"You didn't... she's not..."

"No." Jughead opened his eyes to look at her again. "No, we didn't kill her. You really think I'd do that?" He snapped, and her eyes widened at the harshness in his tone again. 

Jughead saw this and just sighed, his eyes closing again as his lips formed a thin line. “Sorry.” His voice broke, as did the shell of his non-affected persona. She could see then how scared he was, how guilty he was; and it broke her heart.

Y/N swallowed harshly and hesitated before she took his hand. Thankfully the blood had dried over his hands, because she would have been sick if it was still warm and wet. “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay? Then we can talk if you want.” She forced a small smile in his direction, and watched as he nodded his head, though his eyes still didn’t meet hers.

Her hand dropped his as she opened the bathroom door and she stepped inside, letting him follow her inside as she started running a warm sink of water and wet one of the two washcloths that were there. Jughead kept silent as he sat on the closed lid of the toilet, one of his legs bouncing uncontrollably - something he did when he was stressed.

Nothing was said as she took the wet wash cloth and stood in between his legs as she started getting the blood off of his hands, still feeling nauseated. This was Jughead. Her childhood best friend. The boy who was so kind and sweet, now part of a gang and hurting people.

“Are you scared of me?” Jughead broke the silence with a quiet question and his serious gaze piercing into hers.

“No.” She told him truthfully, letting his left hand go once it was clean before she wet the washcloth again to start cleaning up his right hand. “I’m just worried.”

“I’m sorry.” Jughead whispered, his expression a light scowl as his gaze returned to his hands again.

“What did you even do?” Y/N whispered, and didn’t miss the way his jaw clenched at the question. The silence brewed for another moment, though once it was clear that she seriously wanted to know he sighed and closed his eyes.

“Me and some of the Serpents took Penny to the outside of Greendale,” Jughead started, his leg bouncing again. “We threw her to the floor, told her never to come back here, and...” His voice wavered a little and he had to pause as he took in a deep breath. “And I got Sweet Pea and Toni to hold her still as I cut her Serpent tattoo off of her arm.”

Y/N almost didn’t believe him. She wouldn’t have if it wasn’t for the almost haunted expression he wore over his face. But she didn’t want to believe him. She didn’t want to believe her boyfriend was capable of throwing somebody in a ditch and cutting a part of their arm off, though clearly he was.

“Are you scared of me now?” He whispered as she had kept silent for a long moment.

Y/N shook her head again. Scared wasn’t the right word, she knew he could never hurt her. She was more just utterly concerned. “Why would you cut her?” She whispered, her eyebrows furrowing as she locked her gaze with his again.

“We had no other choice.” Jughead shook his head. “You know what she was doing, what she would have done if she was there for any longer. We had to get rid of her.”

“You didn’t have to cut her.”

“Don’t you think I know that!” His yell bounced off of the thin walls of the small bathroom, and she couldn’t help but flinch in surprise, her eyes widening. Jughead looked at her for a moment, guilt crossing his expression, before he sighed and put his head in his hands. “I know. I fucked up. I shouldn’t have cut her. I shouldn’t have thrown her in a ditch and yelled at her. We could have gotten her out a better way. But we didn’t, and we fucked it up.” His hand moved through his hair and tugged on it stressfully. Only when he looked up at her again did she the tears that were glazing over his blue eyes like freshly cut glass.

Y/N frowned and opened her arms for him, to which he leaned into and moved his arms around her waist. His head leaned against his chest and his hands gripped her shirt as his shoulders started shaking with the cries that left him. She held onto him tightly as he cried and pressed a kiss against his head, not letting go of him as he cried. They were like that for maybe ten minutes until Jughead sighed, now silent as he pulled out of her embrace to look up at her.

“I’m terrified.” He admitted in a whisper. “That she’ll come back and continue dragging my dad down. Or me down. Or the rest of the fucking Serpents.”

“You don’t know if she’s coming back.” She whispered and cupped his face in her hands - running the pads of her thumbs underneath his eyes to rid him of the freshly-shed tears that moved down his cheeks. “And if she does then we’ll deal with it when it comes up, okay?”

Jughead just nodded, his shoulders slumping as he leaned forwards to lean his head against her chest again. Her eyes closed as she held onto him, not able to help the tears building in her own eyes as she looked down at him, her boyfriend.

Though now it was like he was a completely different person. And that scared her more than anything else.

[wondernimbus]

forgive and forget — harry potter

pairing: harry potter x female!reader

prompt: “kill everything dear to you and then you will know how it feels.”

t/w: mentions of death

a/n: this is set a year after the battle of hogwarts! wrote this at 1am n havent proofread it so chances are it sucks but i’m posting it anyway bc you only live once am i right folks

In the darkness and silence of a winter's night, the water is eerily calm—too calm, almost, with a foreboding feeling hanging over it. At the edge of the lake stands a girl whose heart has long since grown much too cold to feel anything but the wide, gaping void inside of her chest. She doesn't shiver; just stands there, holding her wand at her side, gaze fixed on the reflection of the moonshine against the shapeless water, waiting.

And waiting.

And when the figure appears from behind her—a loud, almost deafening snap in the complete and utter silence of the woods, she doesn't turn around right away.

Instead, she twirls her wand in her hand, frowning down at the lake as though expecting something to break through the calm surface and swallow her whole, carry her down into its depths and leave her somewhere deep, deep down, away from the rest of the world.

Thinking about it now, it doesn't sound that bad.

"Did you miss me?" are the first words that leave her mouth since having arrived there. Her voice is as dangerously calm as the lake. Just as foreboding—and it sounds like a warning.

But Harry doesn't heed it. Instead, he stands there, a mere five feet away, watching as she turns around, slowly, to face him.

The last thing he expects is for her to look at him the way she used to. He doesn't expect her to run toward him, take him in her arms, and hug him the way she used to, long ago.

Harry should be prepared for this. But when her gaze meets his and he makes out her eyes in the darkness, cold and unforgiving and void of any emotion, he can't help the way he sucks in a breath, how his heart clenches inside of his chest.

A strange chill settles over him. Sickness; something horrible swelling up in the pit of his stomach as he stares at the girl in front of him. It's not just the look in her eyes that is different. Her hair is cleaner. Shorter. More mature, tucked behind her ears and down her back. Without it framing her face, Harry's eyes are free to roam over the rest of her face, which is gaunt and sunken; there are bags under her eyes so deep he starts to debate whether or not he's looking at a corpse.

It's like seeing a memory that has haunted Harry for decades, when in reality it has only been a year. He knows that face like the back of his hand: her eyes, dark and barely crinkled at the corners. that nose, those careful lips. She is older, but so is Harry. She is a stranger in so many ways, but Harry would know her anywhere.

"[Y/N]," he breathes out, throat tight. His fingers grip even tighter around the wand inside his coat pocket. There's an undeniable sense of fear—dread—coiling around his heart. She stares at him, eyes still hard as ever.

And then her lips tug up at the edges. Her smile is bitter. It's the first real trace of emotion she has let slip, and Harry wonders if he should feel relieved that [Y/N] is still human and capable of feeling. Even if she is angry.

The worst part is that Harry can't blame her.

"I'm sorry," he says, voice barely a whisper.

The smile grows. Suddenly she's laughing—cold, harsh bursts of laughter with no real humor to it. Harry clenches his jaw, watching her. His heart is pounding erratically in his chest; he doesn't know if it's because he senses she's near and yearns for her, the person who it used to beat for, or if it's because it's scared of her.

Oh, how things have changed.

"Sorry?" she repeats, her laughter fading away into the night, replaced by a deadly sort of tension that now hangs above them. "Sorry?"

Harry feels sweat trickle down the side of his temple.

"You're sorry." Her voice is laced thick with equal parts mockery, disbelief, and anger. But even then her eyes are cold and blank as ever.

Since when had she gotten so good at hiding what she truly felt?

"I don't know what else you want me to say," says Harry through gritted teeth, hand tightening around his wand.

Her lips curl. She stares at him for a few moments, unspeaking, and then she nods. "You're right," she says curtly, turning once more to look at the lake behind her. "You know what, Harry? You're right. You killed my parents and walked away from it like it was nothing. There really isn't much else to say other than you're sorry."

He swallows. He can't feel guilty. He can't. "I'm sorry," he says again, unable to hide the way his voice trembles from frustration. Or is it fear? He can't quite tell anymore. "But I did what I had to do. They worked for Voldemort—"

"So you killed them," [Y/N] says, tone ominously void of emotion. "With no regard for their real motive. Without bothering to listen—"

"I had no choi—"

"And realize that they did it to protect their children." When she whips around, Harry sees that her facade of calm has slipped away completely—instead there is pure, unadulterated anger flaring in her eyes. "You say you had no choice but neither did they."

"They were Death Eaters," says Harry, taking a deep breath through his nose, sounding like he's trying to convince himself more than her. "It hardly mattered why they went to Voldemort's side. What mattered was that they did."

She scowls and takes a step forward. Angry eyes boring into his, she hisses, "Did it matter to you that I loved them?"

Harry's fingers feel cold, his neck too hot, the air pressing into him from all sides. He can't feel guilty.

He can't.

"It had to be done," he says flatly, fighting to maintain her gaze. He wonders if he's imagining the way her eyes seem to be glistening with tears. "I'm sorry. I know you loved them but it had to be done."

Harry is right; when she blinks and turns away, he doesn't miss the bead of liquid that rolls down the side of her cheek. All of a sudden he finds himself wanting to leave—to apparate away before he can hear any more. Because this is something that has haunted him for a long, long time, and even then, it is only now that he realizes he isn't quite ready to face it yet.

But here he is now, anyway, standing in front of the girl who once loved him and who he once loved—and maybe part of him still does, even after everything. But Harry knows better than to fool himself into thinking he can have her again.

Not after what he did.

Harry inhales. With difficulty, he keeps his eyes on hers despite the need to tear them away. To turn away and never once look back. But he has to do this now—it's his only chance to finally put an end to all the conflict that has been bothering him ever since he last saw her.

"I know it feels like you'd be turning your back on them if you moved on," Harry begins. This time his voice doesn't shake. "But they're gone. I'm sorry, [Y/N]—"

"Don't call me that."

"Your parents are gone," he repeats. He sees her trying to harden her gaze again—trying to build her walls back up—but she fails, lips pinching. Harry knows it means she's trying to hold her tears back. "They made the wrong choices and they suffered for it. I know what it feels like to lose people you love, but—"

"Do you know what the difference is between you and me?" she cuts him off. Her lips are trembling, angry tears spilling onto her cheeks. "It's that you picked yourself back up, even after you lost people. But I didn't. I haven't. And I don't think I ever will."

Harry feels his heart squeeze into itself inside of his chest.

He's fighting a losing battle. She isn't listening; she's too far gone.

"Do it again." Miraculously, despite the tears on her cheeks and the anguish in her voice, she still sounds ruthlessly angry. "Lose the people you love again. Kill everything dear to you again and then you will know how it feels."

Harry watches as she heaves in a deep, shuddering breath. He doesn't try to say anything anymore—knows that nothing he will say can ever truly heal her.

And with one last pained, scathing look, [Y/N] apparates away.

He never sees her again.

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[mionemymind]

Death of the Foolish

Summary: (Hermione x Female Reader) This was the life of Y/n after she was forced to break up with Hermione for reasons out of her control. But there really was no life after it. 

Warning: Angst, Death, Blood

Words: 2172

A/N: This is for Emma (@idont-knowrn)and her 300 writing challenge! I’m really sorry that it’s late, I was quite slow on what I was signing up for. But I hope you love it and also congrats on 500, you deserve it!!

When it comes to the foolish, they tend to sacrifice everything in order to save the ones they love. The decisions often multiply in recklessness and impulsiveness, but it was all for the sake of their love ones. At least, that’s what Y/n tells herself as she sat in deep thought in the Great Hall. She didn’t hear the loud chatter about the upcoming Quidditch match beside her or the latest teen drama, what was louder was the Dark Lord’s task for her and Draco. It echoed so loudly and the only person she could even confide in was the same person she hated so much.

Across the Great Hall, sitting at the Slytherin table, was Draco. In the same position as Y/n, all he could think about was the deadly task placed upon him, to kill the greatest wizard known to wizard kind. What made it worse was the guilt of adding Y/n into the mix of his drama. She was the only person to have found out about the mark of the Dark Lord, all because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. To risk being exposed, he quickly spoke to his parents. It was Lucius’s idea to tell the Dark Lord. This quickly grew messy and complicated. Now with the threat of her parents’ life, Y/n was forced to become a death eater.

Both students had sunken faces, eyes lifeless of color, and with the weight of the world on their shoulders. Seeing as her next class was canceled, Y/n got up from her spot at the table and walked out the Great Hall. This only caught the attention of one person, Hermione.

She had excused herself from the table and walked in a hurried pace to catch up to Y/n. There were many questions replaying in the bright witch’s mind, and all can only be answered by Y/n. You see, Y/n and Hermione had recently broken up. It was strange as well as harsh. It certainly was unexpected on Hermione’s end since they were coming close to their third-year anniversary. One minute, the two were fine, next minute, Hermione had tears in her eyes as Y/n had broken up with her. Hermione was not given a single explanation for their separation and she was certain as hell to get it.

Turning right, Hermione saw you standing at the end of the hall. Not even caring how desperate she looked, Hermione ran up to you until you were a foot away. With a defeated voice Hermione called out, “Y/n.” At the sound of her voice, Y/n had tensed up, but was quick to reply with, “What do you want?” Y/n didn’t mean to be as harsh, but it needed to be done. Hermione was hurt to see Y/n not even bothering to turn around, but with still a lot of determination, she walked in front of her. “Why are you being like this?” Rolling her eyes, Y/n childishly turned around to avoid looking at Hermione. Rather than feeling hurt, Hermione grew frustrated and walked right back in front of Y/n.

“Stop acting like a child and talk to me.” Y/n’s eyes remained everywhere besides Hermione. “You know,” Hermione took a deep breath and shook her head, as if she was contemplating something. “You’re so bloody stubborn. It’s excruciating talking to you.”

Y/n was quick to fire back with, “Then stop talking to me.” Y/n started to walk away from Hermione, in the general direction of the Great Hall, but Hermione was just as stubborn as Y/n. She needed answers and she needed them now. Without much thought, Hermione grabbed Y/n by the shoulders and shoved her up against the wall. For the first time in while, Hermione locked eyes with Y/n and saw how empty they looked. It was like the color was drained and there was no soul behind those beautify eyes. It was obvious as night and day. Hermione’s thoughts only faltered for a little bit before saying, “Would you stop being such a bloody prick and tell me why we broke up? You gave me nothing and after everything we been through, I at least deserve that.” Hermione’s blood was boiling as her breathing sped up. “Did this relationship even mean anything to you?”

Y/n just stood there and took a good look at Hermione. She noticed the small eye bags appearing as well as the slight loss of color on her skin. She was a bit smaller, but not a lot of people would notice, but Y/n noticed. She noticed all the changes that happened to the girl she was very much in love with you. And all she wanted was to tell her the truth, but the less she knew, the better. Y/n grabbed Hermione’s hands and had ripped them off from her robes. She glanced towards her left and saw Draco leaving the Great Hall. It was time. Without any words, Y/n left Hermione standing there. And before she could walk out of ear shot, Hermione said, “No matter how many times you hurt me, I still somehow come back to you. But remember this, one day I will leave and will never come back. So, don’t bother chasing…I won’t ever let you back in.”

Y/n didn’t have time to focus on her heart breaking even more or the tears forcing their way into her eyes. She had to focus on other matters and had met Draco at the astronomy tower to deal with their task.

-Time Skip-

It was dark, night was falling in Malfoy Manor. As cold it was outside, it was nothing compared to the inside. There were fireplaces in amongst every room, but it didn’t matter. The manor felt icy cold, lifeless, and dark as those who lived in it. This was also the place Y/n happened to stay after the fall of Dumbledore. It wasn’t like she had many options to choose. Lucius had wanted to keep a close eye on the girl to make sure she didn’t ruin any of the Dark Lord’s plans. The Malfoy’s were already punished for Lucius actions and any good news he could bring to the Dark Lord, he would tremendously try.

Y/n was in of the many rooms, trying her best to distract her mind from the many thoughts it occupies when she heard new voices in the common room. She peaked around the corner and the sight made her blood turn cold. There she was, Hermione Granger in a place where she was never supposed to be. Hiding back in the hallway, Y/n murmured disagreements and lies as if this whole thing was fake, but when she looked again, there she was in the flesh.

Wracking up her brain, this was not part of the escape plan she had in mind. Everything was quickly going south and there was no time to think. She looked back again and saw that Peter was dragging the boys downstairs, leaving Hermione with Bellatrix. “That gives me time.”

Working her way around, Y/n called on the only person that was prepared to help. “Dobby, I need you now. Apparate to the cellar and help everybody escape. Leave Ron and Harry to me.” Y/n knew it was only seconds before Dobby could get the message. She made her way downstairs and saw Peter opening the gate. With a quick spell, Peter fell forward with no mobility at all. Before going down, she heard the terrifying screams that emerged from Hermione. And as much as she wanted to save her, she needed to be logical first.

Making her way downstairs, she was meant with two pairs of eyes that were filled with rage. With her wand up, Y/n said, “Upstairs. We don’t have much time.”

“Why should we listen to you?” Y/n hesitated and didn’t know quite what to say. The duo was given too many reasons now to doubt her, but she needed all of them to be safe. “You have no choice. Just do as I say.”

Slowly, they walked upstairs and made sure to stay out of view. Y/n saw Hermione laying on the floor, and it killed everything inside of her to know she was tortured. Her screams were already echoing in her mind. “I’ve had enough of this.” Ron walked out of cover and yelled, “Expelliarmus!” Harry reached in the air and caught Bellatrix’s wand.

“Stupefy!” Lucius flew back as Ron and Harry quickly fought against Draco and Narcissa. But it quickly ended at the sight of Hermione having a knife against her throat. “Drop your wands!” Ron and Harry looked at each other with desperation to get out.

“I said drop it!” The boys followed the command and dropped their wands. “Draco, pick up their wands.” Draco quickly followed orders and stood back. Y/n was still at the stairs and had yet to be seen. “It’s time to call the Dark Lord.” Bellatrix said with a heinous laugh following after it.

Lucius pulled up his sleeve revealing the mark of Dark Lord. Before he could call, Y/n whispered a spell, dropping the chandelier. The distraction had made Bellatrix jump out into safety as Hermione ran forward to Ron. Harry grabbed their wands from Draco’s hand without much of a fight from Draco. “Stupefy!” Once again, Lucius was sent back as the trio and Y/n stood next to each other.

“Stupid girl! You’ve could’ve hurt me.” The next thing they knew, Dobby was right behind them, ready to apparate the group out the manor. With one last cold look, Y/n said, “I wish I did.” Dobby then proceed to apparate the group to the designated location. But what they had failed to see was the knife that flew in with them.

Arriving at the beach, Y/n laid flatly on the sand. She could feel an aching feeling in her stomach and had tried to glance down, but that was proven to be difficult for the witch. A couple feet away was the trio and Dobby. They were having a small celebration, to finally be out the manor, when Dobby noticed Y/n.

Pulling on Harry’s clothes, the elf pointed at the injured girl that was quickly losing blood. Harry was about to run to her when Hermione was the first to break out of shock. She kneeled before the girl with tears already prickling her eyes. “Y/n?”

Y/n slightly moved her head in the direction of Hermione. Things were getting blurry, but she knew it was her. “You’re g-g-gonna be okay.” Hermione placed Y/n’s head on her lap as she yelled at Harry and Ron for her bag, but it was all faint mumbles to Y/n. The world around her was growing cold again when she was so close to being back with Hermione.

Knowing this was her end, Y/n reached out for Hermione’s hand. The small movement caught Hermione’s attention and she immediately locked hands with Y/n. The tears were already falling down as her lip quivered at the sight in front of her. Y/n was losing blood badly, something that needed professional help, which was nowhere for miles.

“I’m sorry Hermione.” While wiping her tears with her free hand, Hermione replied, “Please save your energy, we need to get you help.” No matter how smart Hermione was, there was no possible solution for this problem. “I-” Y/n was cut off with a severe cough, blood was trickling out her mouth. “You do mean everything…to me.”

“What?” Hermione looked at Y/n with a ridiculous look. “Stop talking non-sense, we need to find help.” Hermione gave a pleading look to Harry and Ron, but they knew much as well that Y/n’s life was coming to an end. Dobby stood beside Harry with tears falling.

“Please Hermione…please save my parents.” Still, Hermione was clueless to Y/n’s words. She didn’t even know that Y/n’s parents were in danger. “And Hermione…I still-” Y/n coughed up more blood and whispered her last words, “…love…you.”

In within a heartbeat, Y/n was gone from this world with Hermione clutching on to her body in hopes of getting her back. It took several tries from Ron and Harry before they agreed to bury her body close by. It was when Hermione took one last look at Y/n did she notice the large mark on her left forearm. And suddenly, everything clicked. All her questions, pleas, and mysteries were solved with just that mark. Hermione broke down again as Harry and Ron placed the sand on to Y/n’s body.

Hermione was the last one to leave when she said these final words, “I love you too.” And with no time to grieve, the trio were back to fighting the war. Y/n would always be on Hermione’s mind. And when they would win, Hermione would find ways to honor her first love’s name. And whenever she had those sad days, she would sometimes wish Y/n would try to come back in her life. For this time, she promised, she would let her back in.