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nymphl · 6 years ago

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Bloodbound - A vampire!Hux x Reader - Ch. 2 - A deal with the Devil or... the bloody Emperor

A/N - Hello there General Kenobi! xD Welcome to the second chapter of Bloodbound. As promised, here I am to upload to tumblr chapter 2. I hope you like it <3 This chapter is very big, but smaller than last chapter. I promise I’m really working on chapter 4, but this is my most complex story, so it takes time and research to write the chapters. Anyways, thanks to everyone who’s been reading and giving notes and all. Love you. Happy reading <3

Story summary: Bound by blood… After you left the First Order and joined the Resistance, moved with a deep hatred for General Armitage Hux, you never expected to meet said man in a Gala in Canto Bight, nor that your past was intimately interlaced with his. When the past is written in blood, can you start anew, a new chapter of your own, or are you forever bound to him? When all is said and done, can you still keep on hating a man who has all eternity to hate himself?

Warnings for the entire story: Will contain at times; graphic violence, sex, drugs and manipulation, coarse language and OOCness.

AO3 tags: from lovers to enemies; from enemies to lovers; partners to lovers; eventual romance; vampire!hux; vampires in space; vampires, blood, blood binds; First Order; Resistance; power play; politics; Hux backstory; political alliances; political betrayals; vampire sex; shameless smut; memory loss; mesmerizing; vampire powers; vampire politics; Starkiller Base; military prowess; empire; emperor; Emperor!Hux; dhampirs.

Wordcount: 6723.

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Imperial Palace, Canto Bight, Cantonica

Imperial Suite

Dawn

BLOOD.

Thick and crimson.

Screams.

Deafening and shrilling.

Pain.

Unbearable and excruciating.

Even though a few hours had gone by since he tasted your blood, he could still reminisce as if his fangs were still deep buried in your skin. The scene was fresh in his mind; he could feel your very pain in his bones.

Armitage Hux closed his eyes while supporting himself over the parapet of his balcony. A fissure immediately appeared in the concrete under the pressure of his fingers. However, the sound of something cracking wasn’t enough to shake him off his trance.

He had to go further.

He needed to know more.

Yet, no matter how many times he visited the gore scene, he couldn’t go past your screams and the poor treatment you received by the Poli Massans. It didn’t help he saw it through your eyes and whatever you saw and whatever you felt was all he could see and feel.

You lay there, in the hospital bed, your brow furrowed while you bit your lip as another wave of contraction hit you with full force. There was no one to accompany you; no one to hold your hand as you screamed for help. For the pain to just… stop.

And although he knew he shouldn’t — because he didn’t have any right to feel this way — he couldn’t help feeling guilty. It creeped through his veins and gripped his heart like a vice.

At such stage of your pregnancy, he had already figured out your child was his. Not of another. His. At first, he didn’t know how it could happen — vampires didn’t procreate, they couldn’t; immortality was a gift conceded to a few and with it, one had to give up on lots of things, including the ability to give birth —, but he quickly realized what happened. You got pregnant before his trip to the Inner Rim on a mission.

And yet… even aware of a fact that could change everything between you, he didn’t reach out. He knew that if he just wanted, he could find you. It’d be so easy. But he remained true to his promise. He sticked to his word.

He always did.

Instead, he kept Dopheld Mitaka on your heels, helping you in any way he could. Offering you the comfort of a good house, food and even a decent and safe job. Key word: safe. And for the Maker, how much of a surprise it was to learn you were working as a journalist — badmouthing him, nonetheless. He did try to keep you away from the media outlets, but there was so much he could do from afar.

When you became famous — a widely known journalist writing for The Canto Bight Gazette —, it was impossible not to know where you lived. And yet, he never looked for you…

Until now.

So, no… He didn’t have any right to feel guilty as he watched you screaming and squirming in pain as the Polis Massan, with the assistance of a medical droid, helped you through the process of giving birth.

He didn’t have any right to feel an excruciating pain and utter despair as one of the doctors held a baby boy who didn’t move, who didn’t cry.

And no… He didn’t have any right to feel frustrated as everything went black and you passed out in the hospital bed, too exhausted to remain awake. To even see if your child — his child — survived.

Remorse was a feeling reserved for those who at least tried — and he didn’t. He had taken precautions to protect you, it’s true, but he doubted you would understand. He certainly didn’t feel like he deserved it for starters.

Kriffs!

His eyes snapped open — his full-blown pupils delineated by a small ring of crimson; the usual bluish color of his irises long gone — and he noticed the damage done to the parapet. Stepping away, he ran his hand through his ginger hair, removing it from his face.

It was when he noticed it, the sun rising in the horizon.

Usually, he’d be in the safety of his bedroom, but this time around he decided to stay in the balcony. Unlike popular belief, vampires could bear the sunlight for a few minutes. Considering it was sunrise — the same applied to sundown —, he could withstand the rays for a decent amount of time.

It is, such rule applied for vampires used to exposing themselves to the sun. For someone like him who hadn’t felt the warmth of the morning star for a couple of years, only pain was about to be ensured.

But the Supreme Leader was nothing if not obstinate and no matter how much pain he’d have to endure, he decided he’d watch the sunrise. That, or he wanted to punish himself for what he knew to be terrible choices in the past.

Canto Bight Police Headquarters, Cantonica

A few hours before dawn

You felt your heart hammering against your ribcages as you left the Police Department, leaving behind a very pissed off Police Chief behind. He didn’t need to say anything — he wouldn’t dare, not with the Emperor himself being so close to you —, but no words were needed. It was quite clear his distaste for the whole situation.

The chilly air caressed your face and you couldn’t help shivering. Before you had enough time to even blink, a warm coat was placed upon your shoulders. Your breath stuck in your throat as his fingers — not as warm as when he feed on you —, lightly brushed the base of your neck.

And before you could say anything — kriffs! Before you could understand your reaction to his touch —, he was gesturing towards his landspeeder for you to climb in. Part of you half expected an entourage, at least some security guards — what were they called nowadays? Imperial Guards? Imperial Hounds? You decided not to question him — and, really, it didn’t seem like a creature such as himself needed protection.

You knew for a fact that the previous Supreme Leader didn’t need protection either, but the Praetorian Guards followed him everywhere he went. They were there, at least for the show.

Casting a glance at him, unsure whether you should climb in the vehicle, or let him go alone, you took your time mulling over your two options. The first would get you to the answers you sought easier, the second, however…

You shook your head. You had already given him your answer and it was a resounding yes.

I-I… Yes.

You’d be damned if you backed down now. It was a unique opportunity, something you couldn’t just throw away that easily.

Yet…

It didn’t mean you were ready to be in his company as of now. You needed time… time to think and mainly to come up with a backup plan, in case something went wrong — because honestly, the odds were against you.

He seemed to sense your uneasiness, for he approached you. His impossibly blue eyes set on your face, “If you have anywhere else to be…”

It didn’t take a genius to understand the meaning of his words. If you have someone else to go back to… If you took your time analyzing him — not only his words — you’d have noticed his distant approach to the whole situation. The man intent on having you at his side was long gone — in spite of his offer —; he was definitely more distracted than you’d seen him all night.

“I’m a widow,” you offered, nonetheless.

He narrowed his eyes, watching you intensely. It was obvious your answer seemed rushed and untrue and for a creature such as himself — a vampire! You expected the Emperor to be many things, except the creature you loathed the most in the universe —, smelling lies was as easy as smelling blood. He new you were a widow, you said so yourself earlier that night and he didn’t seem like a man who enjoyed being told anything twice.

“I do have a condition, though,” you spoke, trying to change topics. If you were to really go with him, to be his… — whatever he wanted you to be; he didn’t set the terms yet — you had to set a few clauses that needed to be fulfilled.

There was no answer from his part, not even a nod. At each minimal interaction you grew surer of his dislike of unnecessary words. Before you could say anything, he raised two fingers, silencing you for good.

The Supreme Leader tilted his head slightly aside, as if listening to something you couldn’t quite grasp in your weakened state. He rounded on you, his hand on your back as he gently guided you inside the landspeeder.

“Let’s go.”

Canto Casino Hotel, Canto Bight, Cantonica

Random room

Mid-day

You looked around the room you chose to contact the Resistance as you waited for See-Threepio to bring your children to the room where General Organa’s comm station was placed. The Canto Casino Hotel was huge — otherworldly — and you could say the same about the chambers you’ve been given. You hadn’t even seen the majority of it, but only the anteroom was bigger than your apartment. It was obvious the Supreme Leader spared no effort to charm his business partners — if you could consider yourself as such.

Kriffs! You bet this very room — which looked like an unused storeroom — was enough to fit two apartments such as yours.

Poe was in silence, but his tense standing denounced how quickly his mind was working. It was obvious neither approved of your decision, but General Organa — as always — seemed more understanding. She knew you had to do it — and for your reasons only; something she didn’t support, but respected, nonetheless.

It didn’t take much convincing on the Emperor’s part to keep you by his side. As soon as he explained what his proposal was and actually invited you — he made sure to let you know you were free to come and go as you pleased; you were by no means a prisoner — to work for him. With him. There was no need for further explanations, for as soon as he closed his mouth, you agreed.

I-I… Yes.

He seemed stunned for brief a moment. The thing with the Emperor was that he was a man who quickly schooled his face, no matter how dire the situation. You shook your head, unable to understand where that came from. It felt as if you had worked with him previously, when, in truth you had just met him.

I’ll take up on your offer.

Right now, you thought that was undoubtedly not the best decision. Not one made with a clear head. But you couldn’t back down. Not now. Not ever.

Not when you had in your hands the chance to destroy the Empire. All you had to do was to show — truly show — how corrupt and dirty that kriffing First Order was. It would be up for the people to wake up and face that tyrannical government.

“Minara,” Poe started, not even bothering to hide his frustration. His tired voice dragged you from whatever you were thinking and planning. “You should reconsider. It’s dangerous! It’s not safe! It’s—

“Dameron! Drop it!” At your firm intonation, he snapped out of it and looked at you, his brown eyes focused on your face. “I know what I’m doing. I’ll be okay.”

He cast a glance over his shoulder to the General, as if expecting her to agree with him — which she undoubtedly did, you knew her enough to know when she disagreed with something and for the maker, it was the second time in a row that you saw them agreeing with each other in such a short notice —, to help him.

“What do you want me to do? She won’t change her mind.”

With a defeated sigh, he sat on a chair and ran his fingers through his dark tresses, keeping his head between his hands.

Obviously, none of them knew that the Emperor was a vampire. You doubted the General would be so comprehensive if she only dreamed about it.

There was a minute of silence that was only broken by the loud fight of your children. Threepio — while obviously stating he’d die of old circuits before your children stopped fighting — had no success driving them apart. You couldn’t understand much of what they’re saying, but it didn’t take a genius to get they’re blaming each other for the fact you didn’t return last night.

Steela — and you should’ve expected that — was pestering Nik, to the point he was about to explode in tears. You always wondered why he never fought back, but it was simply not in his nature. And in spite of their endless fights, Steela was always ready to defend her little brother whenever someone only directed a hard glance at him at school.

You drew in a sharp breath and rose to your feet.

“Stop it, Steela! Leave him alone.”

“Mom!” they exclaimed in unison. Steela ran to the front of comm station and Nik wiped the traces of tears in his eyes as he, too, made his way to you.

“I’m sorry, mom,” he spoke; his lower lip trembling. It was obvious that he was on edge not only because of Steela’s teasing. His red eyes made it very clear that he didn’t sleep well last night — if he slept at all.

You couldn’t help feeling guilty. You wanted to contact them, to tell them everything was just fine — and that you loved them dearly —, but in a room chosen by the Emperor himself, you couldn’t risk exposing your children.

“Oh, sweetie.” You outstretched your hand. All of a sudden, you wished you could hold him — hold them — in your arms. “There’s nothing to forgive you for.” Turning your attention to Steela, you added, eyes narrowed, “I assume you took good care of your brother last night.”

She blushed.

And lowered her blue eyes.

“I am sorry, mom…” She turned to her brother and held her hand. “I am sorry, Nik.”

He seemed a bit suspicious of her outstretched hand, but took it, nonetheless. He then drew her into a hug. Steela hated hugging — or any sort of physical contact, but she let go this time and embraced her brother back.

A sigh of relief left you. For the next few hours you wouldn’t have to worry about the two of them trying to murder each other. Sometimes you wished Nik could give his sister a harder time. If he did, you were sure she’d leave him to his devices a little bit more. Steela got easily bored and Nik proved to be the perfect distraction she needed.

“Listen.” You hated to break their little moment. “I won’t be home for a few days.”

“What?” they said in unison. “Why?” Steela asked shortly after. “Are you going somewhere?”

Poe scoffed, folding his arms. “Yeah. Explain that.”

You looked at him, tempted to call him out on his attitude. All you wanted to say was Don’t be ridiculous, but you decided it was best not to pay him any attention.

“I’ll be working with the Supreme Leader.”

“The Emperor?” Steela asked, genuinely curious. “But you hate him!”

Poe shifted his attention to your daughter, giving her thumbs up he thought you didn’t see. You narrowed your eyes, visibly displeased.

“Poe!” General Organa put a hand on his shoulder, drawing him back. He cast a glance at you before retreating. “Let’s go. Threepio…” The golden droid shifted his attention to her, his face always the perfect image of a startled droid, “take care of the children while we fetch some sweet-sand cookies and tarine tea.”

Before he could say anything — do anything to prevent her from leaving, she was already gone; Poe hot on her trails.

“Princess Leia! Commander Poe! Don’t leave me alone!”

As no one paid any attention to his cries for help — and your children exchanged glances that meant the protocol droid would be in trouble very soon —, he raised his hands and let out his customary, “I’m doomed!”

You rolled your eyes as they sat on the wooden floor, waiting anxiously for your explanation. Steela had a guilty look on her face — which you quickly dismissed as if she was merely acknowledging her mistake in teasing her brother endlessly —and Nik was struggling to stay awake.

“Listen, Steela…” you started, not sure of what your next words should be. “The Supreme Leader and I… we… We don’t see eye to eye, it’s true… But—

“Don’t go,” Nik cut you amidst your sentence. Usually, you hated it when any of them interrupted you so rudely, but the look in his eyes was enough to hold you off. “The Emperor is a bad man.”

You couldn’t argue with that.

The Emperor was, indeed, a bad man. And Steela was right. You hated him — with every fiber in your being and every bone in your body. But the opportunity was too good to pass. Who knows when the Emperor would let another member of the Resistance approach him? Who knows what you could uncover — and how many people you could help — under the disguise of his… assistant? Whatever it was he wanted you to do/be for him. He didn’t get into the specifics as of yet.

“You’re right, Nik,” you conceded with a tired sigh. Part of you wanted to keep them close, but you knew it was a risk not worth taking. As it was, you were already risking too much talking to them in the enemy’s territory. “He’s a bad man. And what do we do with bad men?”

He cast his eyes down, not daring too look at you as he mumbled in a voice you could barely hear, “We don’t let them hurt people.”

There was a full minute of silence, as if each of them took in what you said. Until—

“But mom!”

You expected Steela to start complaining — she always did —, but this time it came from Nik. His sister was looking at you with those intense blue eyes of hers, not daring to say anything. You felt a shiver run down your spine even before you heard her question.

“We will meet the Emperor?”

“No!” It was your answer — but you were not alone in this. Nik — and only the Maker could know why — was adamant in his answer. Ever since both of your children were old enough to read, they once caught you writing about the Emperor — back then, he was merely a General, the poster-boy, as you so called him —, they became… well, Stella became a bit obsessed with meeting him. She wanted to see with her own two eyes the man you felt so strongly about. And Nik… Nik… Well, Nik didn’t want to see him at all. If the Emperor was a man you couldn’t stand, he couldn’t either.

“Listen…” you started, trapping your bottom lip between your teeth. “I understand I caught you both off guard and that I promised to get you to the amusement park next weekend, but I won’t be with you next week…” The expression on their faces was crestfallen and the customary but, mom! didn’t reach your years. That, or Nik did that thing about communicating telepathically with his sister and told her to stay quiet for a change. “We’ve got to lay low for a bit and I still don’t know how much long I’ll be gone for, but I promise to keep in touch whenever possible, okay?”

There was no answer from their part. Only silence. Whenever it happened — which honestly was pretty rare —, you felt guiltier than ever. It was obvious they wanted to go to the amusement park for a while and you promised it so long ago… but with your job — both in The Canto Bight Gazette and for the Resistance — everything got a bit… chaotic with the Emperor’s visit and you didn’t have enough time for anything. That… and obviously they misbehaved at school and you had no choice except to ground them for weeks in a row.

Their uninterrupted silence made you sigh tiredly. No one said being a single mom of twins was going to be easy, you reminded yourself.

Nik even opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself when Steela placed her hand over his and shook her head. He seemed to be against whatever she said in her mind — and not for the first time you wished you could have the gift of reading thoughts —, but he agreed with a begrudgingly fine shortly after.

You wanted to say something, to force them to tell you what was going on — what they were hiding from you — but before you could say anything else, you heard the sound of both General Organa and Poe’s voice.

“Who’s ready for some cookies?”

“Yay!” Steela said in blatant disinterest, while not moving from her spot at all. Poe pulled her by the hand to her feet and scooped her in his arms, pulling her over his shoulders. “And who’s ready for some piloting lessons?”

It was all it took to have her blue eyes shining as brightly as the sky outside. She stared at you, waving her hand excitedly, “Bye, mom!” As they left the room, you could barely hear her excited squeals as she asked to learn a new trick or two that afternoon. From Poe, you barely got a judging stare.

Nik raised to his feet, but he didn’t leave the spot; his bluish eyes intense on you. General Organa stopped right behind him, placing both hands on his shoulders. She smiled sympathetically at you. Having raised a son before — a son who parted from her so young and was taken from her not long after —, she knew what it was to talk to children and explain… difficult things.

“Take care of your sister for me, huh?” You said, itching to touch his face and mess his ginger hair affectionately — something he utterly hated. “Tell your sister I love you both.”

He nodded, accepting the hand General Organa offered him. Not a single word left his lips as he turned on his heels and left the room in her company. Alone, you let out a tired sigh and a loud Kriffing hell.

“Goodbye, Mistress Minara,” Threepio said, ready to shut down the connection.

You ran your hand through your hair and raised your eyes to face the golden protocol droid. You couldn’t help but furrow your brows, recalling your own silver protocol droid back at home. You didn’t lose time in asking what happened to D-Five.

“Oh… Mistress Minara…” You could’ve sworn he was… sad? “I’m afraid to be the bearer of terrible news.”

You almost rolled your eyes. What could be worse than asking to dismount a droid just to put the parts in random places, so it wouldn’t function properly later?

“What did they do this time?”

There was a moment of silence, as if General Organa’s faithful droid was choosing the best words to tell you the news.

“Spill it, Threepio!”

“Yes… Ah… Of course!” At the look he saw in your face, he couldn’t stop apologizing. “I am sorry for my tactlessness, Mistress Minara!”

Oh, Maker! Why must all protocol droids behave in such prolific way?

“I am afraid the twins recorded a message on Deefive…” Okay… So far so good. Nothing to be concerned about and even though it wasn’t the protocol droid’s primary usage, it could be used to record messages. You were now left wondering about the name of their addressee. It seemed pretty harmless — if you considered the activities one could caught your children doing. “…and he now is entrusted with the mission of delivering it himself to the Supreme Leader.”

“They did WHAT?”

Canto Casino Hotel, Canto Bight, Cantonica.

Your chambers

One hour before dawn

There was no need to look at the sky to know night was almost over. Judging from the time you spent in the Police Department and the light cast over the holoposters displaying the Supreme Leader’s image, you could bet it was almost dawn.

Almost.

Bitting your bottom, you couldn’t help getting apprehensive because of the Emperor — and part of you wished he’d burn in the morning sun. He cast one last glance around before guiding you inside the Canto Casino Hotel. His hand was firm on your back and he only let go when both of you stopped in front of your room.

The best room of the entire kriffing place.

“We’re followed.”

No.

You were wrong in your assertion. He was followed.

It was obvious he understood the meaning behind your words, for he nodded. His bluish eyes didn’t deviate from you as he stated, “My guards will be here shortly.”

You furrowed your brows. As far as you knew, there was someone following him and as soon as he left, you’d no longer be in danger. If you ever were. The Emperor didn’t strike as a man to leave his business partners to suffer greatly while in his presence — except, of course, that fell in step with his plans. Unless… He planned for you to suffer all along…

…which wouldn’t come up as a surprise.

You were his enemy.

It’d only be natural that he’d want to get rid of someone such as yourself. And yet, it’d would only attest to everything that was revealed about him tonight. Part of you didn’t want to recognize in such a fierce adversary a blatant stupidity.

And yet… dictators weren’t exactly known for their regards towards their foes. Or for thinking longer than the reach of their noses.

Ego…

…it blinded them. And it allowed Resistances to rise and defeat them in the due time.

“I can handle myself,” you retorted, recognizing in his offer no more than a preposterous way of watching you.

It didn’t take any telepathic powers to know he was displeased with your answer. His very eyes — of that impossible shade of blue — denounced him. The tenseness in his shoulders corroborated with your hypothesis. You could’ve backed down — and perhaps you should have; he knew his enemies, you didn’t. And yet… every bristling hair in your body told you to hold your ground against the tyranny of his suggestion.

That or the guilty that would assault you as soon as you closed the door and realized that for the first time, your hatred — you didn’t even know where it was born — didn’t get the best of you.

It wasn’t always you disagreed with your guts — working as an investigative journalist taught you that you’d have to trust the facts and the proofs you had in your hands, but above everything else, you’d have to trust your guts — but this time you wanted to.

“Your conditions…” he offered, stepping inside your chambers.

Not knowing what to do, you watched as he inspected the very corners of your bedroom, looking for… whatever he was looking for. You followed him, a few steps behind as he completed his thorough search. In spite of the fact there was nothing to be found — what kind of enemy did he have to leave such obvious traces? —, he sported a posture of visible tenseness.

You wetted your bottom lip.

Your conditions…

Right.

“I know what you are,” you started, looking straight at him. Even though he was staring at you, you could say he was focused elsewhere. And wasn’t he the whole night? Or ever since he came to your rescue in the Police Department? “And I don’t want you messing with my head.”

He pocketed his hands and for a brief moment, you could say he’d look down. He didn’t. His bluish eyes remained on your face. You felt discouraged for a moment — it was crystal clear he didn’t regret reading your thoughts earlier, in search of what, only the maker could’ve a guess —, but you took a deep breath.

“My thoughts are mine alone…” You held his gaze as you continued in a whisper, as the sound of steps approaching the room was heard, “as is my blood.”

Before he could come up with any replies, you walked him outside, not even deigning him the wish of a good night.

Imperial Palace, Canto Bight, Cantonica

Dining room

Sunset

It was weird — to say the least.

To have the Emperor watching you while you ate was rather… unnerving. Even though you said you’d rather not have dinner with him, he insisted. After all, business deals were sealed at dinners, so why shouldn’t you discuss the terms of your… job at the dining table? Not to mention, that was a great opportunity to see how he behaved when it was only the two of you with no pair of eyes watching your interaction. Yet, it didn’t make having those impossibly blue orbs set on you less intimidating.

Instead of eating — you knew vampires could eat if they so wished, but he didn’t have to keep the façade with you —, he was merely drinking. A human servant poured the same Bespin Port served at the Gala last night into both of your glasses.

You couldn’t help but notice he’d a horizontal scar on his left wrist. It wasn’t exactly news that vampires all around the world — General Organa once told you how the few vampire politicians she met in her life didn’t shy away from having blood slaves — kept humans and other species too as personal donators. As slave trades became more and more unethical and planets who heavily relied on them watched their economies eroding slowly, the nefarious practice gave way to something quite similar — kriffs, it was the same thing with a fancy name! —, if not somber.

It brought another dark thought to the forefront of your mind. Earlier that day, right after you said goodbye to your children, you checked on the news, only to have the horrific image of a very dead Police Chief all over the Holonews.

You pushed your plate aside; your appetite long gone. The very image of his heart yanked off his chest in a display of brutal violence made your stomach churn heavily — even the high-priced wine didn’t sit well with you anymore.

It’d be a lie if you said you never imagined him — well, not exactly him, but a bunch of people, the Emperor included — dead. However, to see it like that was… completely different. You wanted the Police Chief to pay for his crimes, yes… that much is true, but you wanted him to do it alive.

At the head of the table, the Emperor brought his glass to his lips, watching you over the border of his chalice. He followed your eyes and noticed how they lingered on the servant’s wrist. By now, you were thoroughly distracted…

“I don’t do blood slaves,” he spoke as he dismissed the servant.

His voice was distant. No more than a whisper for your still messy senses, for your distant mind. When the meaning of his words — should you receive them with relief? — reached you, the words automatically spilled from your mouth, “But he’s one.”

“He was.”

His quick reply — you always thought him to be a man who took his time thinking his answers through — made you grip the napkin between your fingers with more force than necessary.

He was… It either meant the Supreme Leader didn’t do blood slaves anymore — did he find out the wonders of synthetic blood? Somehow, you doubted — or that he rescued the boy from the slave trade. You almost snorted. The very idea was ridiculous. The Emperor didn’t strike as a man who had any time — nor the disposition — to put an end to slave trades.

No.

Something smelled fishy.

You felt your blood pumping faster in your veins at the thought of unveiling the secret behind the I don’t do blood slaves. You wondered if it would lead to something bigger on him.

There was silence for a brief moment as he studied you and you studied the possibilities of further investigating that seemingly unimportant topic. You bit your bottom lip, your thoughts all over the place.

“You’ll know about it if you agree to my terms.”

Your head snapped in his direction. You did nothing to hide your fury at his blatant disregard of your conditions. Before you could open your mouth to make him remember them, he beat you to it, “I never agreed to these terms of yours”. The shadow of a smirk on the commissure of his lips made you tremble in anger at both yourself and him.

He rose to his feet, immediately offering you his hand. “Come, Miss Minara. We have a lot to discuss.”

Canto Bight Police Headquarters, Cantonica

Morning

Even though he tried, he couldn’t bring himself to sleep. Whenever he closed his lids, he’d be assault with images of you lying in the hospital bed, blood trickling your legs as you screamed in pain.

Whenever he opened his eyes, he’d see your blood, but differently from the hazy, fading image, it was a much vivid and recent scene. In it, the blood trickled down the side of your mouth.

Hux even reached for your thoughts, but you easily blocked him. Not for the first time, he found himself astonished with your ability to keep him away — it wasn’t everyday that he found a mere human capable of keeping vampires at bay. He couldn’t help the pride spreading in his chest. At least, he wouldn’t have to teach you that.

He knew it wasn’t because he had fed on you. That much he was sure of. No, judging from the way you moved your jaw as if it hurt, he knew you’d been assaulted.

So, despite the fact that it was mid-morning and the sun was high in the sky, he left the safety of his rooms — of his Palace — and was now in front of the one responsible for hurting you.

On the way to the Police Headquarters, he lost no time doing a thorough search on the Police Chief’s career. It didn’t come off as a surprise that he’d been removed from the Corporation before due to his own misdeeds and that you’d been the one to denounce him in The Canto Bight Gazette.

At the same time, you brought that newspaper prestige, you also put your life on the line. It was obvious you were still alive no thanks to him. He’d have to put on a compensation for General Mitaka latter.

Hux waited for no announcement before he entered the Police Chief’s office and closed the door behind himself. He’d some questions for the man — questions he wasn’t sure he could ask of you as of yet, but that he desperately needed answers for — and decide his fate based on how well he answered them.

Part of him expected the corrupt Police Chief to fail miserably.

Imperial Palace, Canto Bight, Cantonica

Emperor’s Study

Now

There was no discussion about how opulent the Canto Casino Hotel was. However, the Imperial Palace was magnificent. It was grandiose. Even though you weren’t easily impressed, you couldn’t deny how much appeal the location held. You could certainly think of a few — screw that! There were several; hundreds even — that would applaud the Emperor’s choice.

To choose the Old City Boys’ domain to set up his Palace was audacious. The Supreme Leader was bold — a shiver ran down your spine as you recalled how he took you last night. You and the other mortals around could only imagine if he chose the Old City with the connivance of them or if he took it for himself without warning — to wage another War.

Regardless of the answer — the true answer, not mere speculation —, he’d been cunning in his decision. It was a move that screamed of his power. He’d barely begun his reign and he’d already so much influence.

The thought made you freeze. If he indeed took it by force, it could only mean the Resistance could be in danger… Someone powerful enough to destroy the Old City Boys could do so much worse to you. On the other hand… If he’d managed to seduce them — what in the kriffing hell did he offer that the Resistance and General Organa couldn’t? —…

You shook your head.

What a great foe the Supreme Leader was.

What a great foe indeed…

As soon as he opened the double doors of his gigantic — everything in this damn place was simply astoundingly huge — study, you couldn’t help but notice the windows. They covered floor to ceiling, displaying the entire Canto Bight to Emperor’s appraisal.

He walked to his desk while you stopped in front of one of those giant windows. He didn’t bother turning on the lights — he didn’t need them to see whatever he was looking for, and neither did you; the lighting cast by the holoposters outside was enough to enlighten the whole room.

It was no surprise to find out the holoposters featured his face. You kind of expected that. He was — you corrected yourself, is… He is… — the Emperor, after all. To see your analysis making the headlines was another story altogether.

Before you could say anything — or even wrap your head around everything that took place since yesterday —, he was offering you a shot of Port-in-a-Storm. Subconsciously, you brought the glass to your nose… and stopped when he snorted.

He said nothing.

He didn’t have to.

The message was clear in his blue eyes.

You shrugged and drank the wine at once, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand afterwards. It took you a while to get drunk with your slightly enhanced senses, but it didn’t mean you liked Port-in-a-Storm either.

He stood by your side, his shoulders almost brushing yours as you continued to watch the holoposters outside absently. Silence dominated the place and the only sound to remind you that at least one of you were still human — and alive — was the sound of your breath.

“Say it.”

You cast a sideways glance at him. His voice was no more than a whisper — and in the quietness of the study, he didn’t need to stress the words for you to hear him. He knew — and you could only wonder how — that your senses were if not like his, at least similar.

“I know you have questions for me.”

This time you didn’t hold yourself, “Several.”

He nodded, expressly indicating you should go ahead.

He expected your questions.

He wanted them.

He needed them.

He welcomed them.

The only reason why he brought you to the Imperial Palace wasn’t because he wanted to be in a secluded place to discuss the terms of your new function — whatever it was, so far you were in the dark. No. He’d far more darker intentions.

Here — in this very Palace —, he’d have the upper hand. He wanted to corner you. He wanted to play you and control the game. You were a mere puppet in the hands of the puppeteer.

You bit your bottom lip.

No.

You wouldn’t play this game. Not now. If you were ever to play a game with him, it would be on your terms. Not his. Never his.

So, no… Even though you’d several answers and he could answer every single one of them, you decided you wouldn’t ask them. At least, not right away.

You’d bid your time.

A little bit of caution could never hurt.

You turned to him; your bottom lip trapped between your teeth. It was a dangerous game… this one you were playing. One you wouldn’t be able to back down from, should the need arise. You drew in a breath. It was now or never.

“Show me.”

He looked at you, his impossibly blue eyes boring into yours. For the briefest of seconds, you felt that light pressure in your head. Then it was gone… You held your chin high and wetted your lips before you spoke — to see the most delightful reaction born in his regal face.

“Show me the world in your eyes.”

A/N - That’s all for now, kids! I hope you’ve enjoyed this chapter. I know it’s big, but considering I update this story once a month or so, I think it’s kinda worth it? xD Anyways, I’ll be back with chapter 3 next Wednesday.

#hux x reader #bloodbound #hux x you #bb #vampire!hux #vampire hux #armitage hux x reader #armitage hux x you #general hux x reader #general hux x you #vampires in space #space vampires

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crescenthistory · 2 months ago

Text

You Too, Silly

Pairing: Bartylus x Reader (Starkiller x Reader)

Summary: When your two best friends fall in love and make it official, you try to be happy for them despite your heartbreak. When they keep flirting with you, though, things grow complicated.

Words: 8.8k

Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader, use of y/n, poly relationship obvi, miscommunication trope, pining & yearning, hurt/comfort, (some) angst with a (very) happy ending, your pov and you think your love is unrequited, it is not!, all three of you are stupid but you're in love so it's fine, kissing while crying, some slight suggestiveness but overall safe for minors, light drinking at a slytherin party

Note: this is my hard launch of romanian!barty mwah – if you don't like it sorry not sorry, this is my barty now!

Being in love with your two best friends hurts.

Being in love with your two best friends who are in a committed relationship with each other hurts perhaps even more.

Being in love with your two best friends who are in a committed relationship with each other, yet for some reason seem hellbent on jokingly flirting with you at any given moment could be considered a form of torture.

And for the past few weeks, Barty Crouch Junior and Regulus Black have been putting you through nothing short of torture.

As any relationship either boy has sustained throughout their lives, your friendship with them was complicated. When you and your dorm mate Dorcas first began integrating yourselves in the friend group that consisted of Barty, Regulus and the elusive Rosier twins, you had both said you might come to regret it. You remember clearly sitting up one night and talking about it – you both thought it would end in flames, yet somehow you couldn’t help but poke the bear. You would prefer to fly under the radar, avoid any more pain than you had already had to grapple with, but you also craved a sense of belonging and figured it was worth the risk.

And oh, were you rewarded.

No friend had treasured you the way Barty does. The second he decided he “liked your vibe” as he put it when he cut you off mid-sentence during your first proper hang-out, you had a loyal guard dog who would kill for you and then demand cuddles as payment. Almost overnight, wherever you went, Barty wouldn’t be far behind, no questions asked. He was fierce in his love, uninhibited and wild. It made you feel important in a way that sizzled over your skin.

In Regulus, you found a quiet understanding no one else had been able to give you before. He was both a mirror held up to your face and a cushioned bench to share during your turmoils. It seemed like he could read your every thought, every experience, like the books you would bond over. Silences shared with Regulus often gave you more than long conversations with others ever could. While he didn’t declare your friendship in the same way Barty did, he still had this simple way of making you feel seen and known.

They quickly cemented themselves at the root of your heart. They were your best friends, and you theirs. Your boys; with their respective green and white strands in their curly hair, who were misunderstood in each their way yet were never a mystery to you.

Perhaps naively, you had always thought there was a certain tension there, that something ran deeper below the surface. Barty was physically affectionate with all his friends, but the way he reached out for you felt differently charged. The only other person he held as long as he did you, was Regulus. It felt right. Likewise, you had yet to be in a room with Regulus without feeling his eyes on you, and you often absentmindedly compared the feeling to when Barty hugs you – they were equivalents, those gazes were the former boy’s version of affection. When you played spin the bottle during an after-party in the boys’ dorm one night, Barty’s grin had widened brilliantly when it landed on you and Regulus. You had sworn you had seen a hunger in his eyes when he watched you share the brief kiss, and you could still hear the soft sigh Regulus breathed against your lips. Again, it all felt so right.

It went unspoken, but you thought that was because it did not need to – not because it was not there.

You knew, of course, that you had been stupidly delusional when Barty hauled Regulus with him into the Great Hall a month ago, hands intertwined, and announced with his signature Cheshire cat smile that he “finally got the boy”. You saw them making out – rather publicly – at the quidditch victory party the night before, but at the time it had only made you smile. It was odd, how you hadn’t realised that kiss was proof that all this tension really was just the two of them. Not before the words left Barty’s mouth did it hit you that this was a part of them you were not involved in. That felt decidedly wrong, but you shoved it down and joined in on the wolf whistling and congratulations, pushing your plate away in the chaos, unable to take another bite.

Since then, you have just tried to be happy for them. Or at least seem it.

Tried to smile through it all as Barty made sure their honeymoon phase was as public as humanly possible, much to Regulus’ ongoing chagrin. Tried to laugh at the quips your friends made, the “get a room you two”s and the “lovebirds”s, though you were never able to dish them out yourself, instead just humming along in agreement whenever Dorcas or Evan did. Tried to stiffen your mask to the point where it could not crack underneath the pressure of emotion, perfectly polished as you originally intended for it to be. All those years ago, before they had ensured you would not need it – you gave yourself a silent thank you for your previous doomsday caution.

You even tried not to avoid Barty and Regulus, to be normal. Why should they be punished by losing one of their best friends because they had the audacity not to fall in love with her too? While you thought yourself generally successful in not showing disdain for their new relationship, this was the one aspect you struggled the most with. Your instinct was to run away and it physically pained you not to. In the few weeks they had been together, you had not been able to stomach being alone with just the two of them and confront their relationship in such close proximity – but you knew you could not avoid them altogether. Instead, you tried to always attach yourself at Dorcas’ hip and always invite the rest of your friends if Barty and Regulus wanted to do something with you. They ask you to study out by the Black Lake? Fantastic, you, Dorcas and Pandora have an Astronomy project you need to work on anyway. They want to visit that one store in Hogsmeade with you? How convenient that Evan was discussing how he needed something from there earlier, and if he goes, then Pandora goes and if she goes Dorcas can’t be the only one left behind, can she?

To offset any accusation that you were not spending time with them alone, you still spent time with them one on one when you knew the other would be busy – just seeing Regulus or Barty was not too bad, it was seeing them as a couple, knowing it did not include you, that you could not withstand. If you were alone with one, you could just pretend nothing changed.

You made sure you focused on these ‘rules’ in your mind, the carefully constructed plan on how to make it through the year. Somehow you did not have it in you to wish they would break up and put you out of your misery – you wanted them, not just one – so instead you set your sights on graduation day. What you would do afterwards, you did not yet know. Disappear off the face of the earth? Become an Unspeakable as an excuse not to ever see them again? Endless possibilities. You zeroed your focus on your coursework and these measures you must take to protect your heart and sanity – if you filled your mind like this, maybe you could distract yourself from the pain that leaked through your body.

Barty remaining his flirtatious self whenever he was around you and Regulus’ simmering dedication to you seemingly only building, was decidedly not helping your case.

Which is how you ended up in this admittedly awkward cat and goose chase.

“There you are!” Not only did you hear Barty’s screech the moment he laid his eyes on you – everyone else in the library did as well, going by the shushes and ugly glares you both received that Barty paid zero mind to. “Dragă, I have been going crazy without you, where have you been?”

He plopped down on the bench beside you instead of any of the readily available chairs around the table, thigh flush against yours. “Good morning, B,” you whispered, hoping to lower his volume with yours.

The ever-growing grin on his face told you he likely understood your attempt. His hair was still damp from his morning shower and hanging slightly in front of his eyes, but you could see the sparkle there you thought was reserved for you. “Good morning,” he stage-whispered dramatically, to show his abiding of library law. Then, he pressed a smacking kiss to your cheek before pulling up his books. “Tell me, why are we studying on a weekend morning?”

This was the kind of activity that caused your delusion. It was early on a Sunday, arguably too early, and you had snuck out of your dorm to the library before anyone else woke so you would not be roped into any heartbreaking hangout. Yet, upon your absence, Barty went looking for you before doing his hair or anything – and when he found you studying, as he likely assumed you would be, he just joined you. There was no reason for him to.

You had been staring at him a tad bit too incredulously for a tad bit too long, so he gave you a cheeky sideway glance while he readied his books. “Too early for you too, baby?”

You shook your head, but couldn’t stop the laugh escaping you. “Maybe I’m just shocked at seeing you voluntarily in the library. I usually have to drag you here.”

“Yeah, because usually I have you with me somewhere more fun when you try to go to the library,” he explained to you matter-of-factly. “Now that you are here from the get-go, I accept my fate that this is where we’ll be. For now.”

“Lucky me.” You poked him lightly in the side to emphasise your sarcasm before you tried to return to your books, though your attention was thoroughly divided.

“I reckon I am the lucky one who gets to spend time with the fittest babe in the castle.”

You snorted at the same time as your heart shattered further – an odd reaction none other than Barty could draw from you. Those comments are not only how you got in this whole emotional mess to begin with, but felt like genuine ice shards spearing through your flesh. You were guilt-ridden as you revelled in them, and begged the gods he would stop.

“And I reckon,” you teasingly copied, hoping to sound level-headed and not agonised, “that Regulus would not appreciate having that title taken away from him.”

“Regulus is a fit babe,” Barty said dreamily, unaffected by your correction. “But he would agree that the title belongs to you, Dragă.”

What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

Barty was incredibly particular in how he showed affection, and flirting with you explicitly was not at all out of character for him. You just, perhaps bitterly, hoped that maybe he would stop, if he was to be in a monogamous relationship with one of his two best friends.

“What’ll you be working on?” you asked, hoping to redirect the conversation.

Likely entirely unaware of your attempt, Barty allowed you, delving into a longer rant about what extra assignment Professor Flitwick had assigned him because he “saw potential in you, young man”, which he of course found to be utter “trollpiss”. It was familiar, working side by side while also not studying at all, gossiping like the two best friends you are. It should be lovely, and you kicked yourself for being hung up on it just being friendly, when friendliness in itself is a gift you should be grateful for.

While you tried to allow yourself to enjoy Barty’s company and not be guilty for how hard you noticed where his body touched yours, you kept your eye on the clock. Regulus had prefect rounds on Sunday mornings, but as soon as he finished them, he would seek the two of you out.

You had to get away from Barty before then.

“While this was lovely,” you said with a forced airy tone, “I have to get going now, B.”

“Cool, where’re we goin’?”

Your pageant winner smile wavered slightly as he immediately began to pack up his belongings, considering it a given that he would join you in your endeavours. “I don’t think so. I’m heading to meet with the Hufflepuff third years I tutor, and I believe it would be considered a crime to introduce them to you when they’ve just stopped being scared of me.”

Not technically a lie. You picked up a massive amount of extracurriculars after Regulus and Barty became official, and tutoring Hufflepuffs was part of it. Though you had no scheduled study session with them today, you knew at least two of them were still too much of a pushover to say no to you if you headed over there. Innocent casualties in your escapades.

Barty immediately pouted. “No fun,” he whined, sitting back down before you. He grabbed your hips and pulled you flush to him so he could rest his forehead on your stomach in defeat. “Why do you have to be such a swot? I miss you.”

You hoped he couldn’t hear your heart flutter at the sentiment. You brought a shaky, selfish hand up to card lightly through his hair, separating the green from the black. “Sorry, B. Duty calls and you know how much I love to be a hero.”

“No hero would leave such a perfect victim like me destitute and alone.” He moved his chin to rest against your flesh so he could look up at you in faux misery.

“Good thing you have Regulus, then.” You feared your voice was more pointed than you wanted it to be. It did not go with the pleasant mask you tried to wear, but the mask never fit quite right around Barty.

Something odd flashed across his eyes at your words and his eyebrows furrowed slightly. Whether he wanted to say something that would explain it, you would not find out, because you gave his hair one last ruffle before patting his cheek lightly and pulling away.

“I’ll see you for dinner, alright B? Don’t worry about me.” You turned around and walked away without waiting for a response.

It still came behind you, sounding too much like the ache in your own chest. “Counting down the minutes!”

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

You survived the rest of the Sunday with little to no incident; as in, you avoided being alone with Regulus and Barty, ensuring the friend group ate together and sat together in the common room afterwards. When Pandora retreated to head to bed, you immediately used the excuse to slither away too, lest you end up trapped with just the two of them by the fire.

Dorcas opened the door to your dorm just a few minutes after you had settled down on your bed to reread your comfort novel. You looked up with a warm, small smile to greet her, but it slipped away as you saw her eyeing you carefully. Neither of you said anything before she was sat on her own bed opposite you, studying you. There was this crackling ferocity to Dorcas’ silences that would make even the strongest man cave – and you were not feeling particularly strong lately.

“Spit it out.” It was all she said.

You sighed and put your book aside, straightening up in your previously comfortable position. “What is it, Cas?”

She gave you a stern but not unkind look. “You’re different. Why?”

“Different how?” You stalled.

She indulged you. “You’re not yourself, babe. Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes and you act like you’re programmed and not like you’re living. I want to know what’s wrong. I want to help.”

The staggering, almost fragmented way she spoke was in part to spoon-feed you her concern so that you might actually answer her truthfully and in part how Dorcas was with emotions. She had not been raised to speak of them, but she was loyal and smart, so she knew when it was needed, even if you wished she wouldn’t.

You looked at her with heavy eyes for a moment before sighing once more and bringing your hands up to roughly rub at your face. “There is no way for you to help right now, I’m sorry. Except maybe be my shield.” The last part was added as a joke, but it fell flat.

“Shield you from what?” Protectiveness flared in her tone and you knew you had to soothe it with the truth.

“Not what,” you said softly. “Who.” You pleaded with your eyes for her to understand.

It took but a few seconds before her face scrunched up in pity – and something that would almost looked like amusement, had you thought her cruel enough to laugh at you. “Barty and Regulus.”

It was a statement, not a question, yet you nodded in affirmation, shutting your eyes in humiliation. “It’s bad, Dorcas. It’s so bad.” A tired heave for breath. “But I will get through it. I just need a little bit of distance without any drama around it and to get my shit together.”

Dorcas looked like she was weighing up her next words carefully. “If I didn’t know you as well as I do, I would have told you to talk with them. Alas, I know you won’t. But I hope you somehow end up having to.”

Cryptic and confusing; just how you knew her to be.

When she realised you would not answer her first sentiments, it was her turn to sigh and give you a rueful smile. “I assume this is why I suddenly have been roped into so much lately? Marlene misses me.”

You laugh at her teasing tone, happy for her to not dig too much into your feelings. “Sorry about that, babe. Just for a little while longer, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she repeated with a tilted head. “If it’s any help, I get it.”

“Considering you got the girl, I don’t think you do.” There was no malice in your words, just a bit of longing. It was bittersweet to indirectly admit your loss.

“That’s not what I meant.” She waited to continue before you met her eyes once more. “I can’t say I understand your heartbreak exactly, but I share your confusion. I also thought you would be part of it.”

The look you gave her must have been nothing short of gobsmacked, yet she had the kindness to not laugh at you. It was unclear whether you were most surprised by her knowing you were in love with both of them, or her having shared the same assumptions as you once. Both floored you.

“I–” you tried, but your voice failed you. All you were able to do was whisper a small, “Thank you.”

This time, there was nothing but pity in her eyes. “I’m sorry babe. I’ll shield you to the best of my ability.”

You shared small, knowing smiles and you decided to end the conversation there, lest it get teary. Reaching over, you carefully switched off your light and placed your book on your nightstand, abandoning any attempt at being comforted for the night. When you laid your head on your pillow, there were phantom indents on either side.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

The one place you had no opportunity to shield yourself from or avoid either of them was during classes.

With your timetables for the year, you and Regulus ended up sharing more than half of your classes, while Barty was in at least a third of them. When you first saw the allocations, it felt like painfully little, and the thought of scraping by so many classes without them felt like a punishment you did not deserve. Now, you almost wished it was less.

Almost was the key word though – because Regulus’ presence by your side at your shared Herbology station was somehow melting the tension that had settled in your bones and making your chest heave all at the same time.

His elbow bumped lightly into yours. “You alright?”

You looked up from the notes you were pretending to study for the depotting you two were currently attempting, giving him a brief smile. “‘Course. Ready for the next step?”

His gaze lingered on you for a second too long, flickering over your face carefully before nodding almost imperceivable. You shifted your focus towards the Venomous Tentacula on the bench before you, reaching out to carefully manoeuvre the prickly leaves away so Regulus could attend to the roots when his hand stopped yours.

“These aren’t tight enough.” His voice was but a whisper as he took off his gloves to tighten yours where the velcro was hazardously slapped on top of each other. With long, cold fingers he elegantly realigned the straps and made sure there was no gap between your skin and glove. “Don’t want my best girl getting hurt, right?”

Regulus looked up to meet your eyes, a small smile playing over his lips. With his striking grey eyes locked on yours, you feared your emotions were too clearly pasted across your face. His loose grip remained on your bare skin, thumbs brushing carefully above your gloves.

“Right,” was all you offered him curtly, pulling your hands back to yourself.

Together you navigated the plant meticulously from one pot to the other you had pre-prepared. Propagating, maintaining and harvesting from the plant was one of your major projects in Herbology for the term and you and Regulus had been dedicated to your so-called coparenting to begin with. Now, to have his body half pressed to yours as you covered the plant’s teeth and angled its venomous leaves away while he extracted and cleaned its roots, it was almost too much. You breathed in and instead of being overwhelmed by the smell of dirt, your nose was filled with Regulus’ shampoo and cologne. You were suddenly thankful your part of the job was rather stationary, as you feared your hands trembling.

Regulus took a laboured breath as he settled the plant properly within its new home, packing the potting mix carefully around the roots. “Right there, perfect,” he murmured, presumably to himself, yet you fought the shiver down your spine. You noticed him glancing at you in the corner of his eye with what can only be classified as a smirk growing on his lips. “Amazing work, amour.” That was unmistakably to you.

You lightly shook your head to clear your thoughts. “Are we done?”

“Unfortunately,” Regulus replied, dusting the remaining dirt off his gloves as he took a small step back from the plant – and closer to you. “Gregory has been successfully assimilated to his new environment.”

You scoffed a laugh, to which his smile grew genuine. “You’ve got a flare for the dramatics, Black.”

“Only comes with being close to one Bartiemus Junior, doesn’t it?”

His eyes were crinkling from his smile and adoration, but you took the comment for what it was – a reminder. A warning. Albeit a confusing one, giving his amorous words just a few moments ago, but one you most certainly needed. “That it does.” Your tone was drier than you intended, but you did good; the smile didn’t slip.

Regulus’ did, and he tilted his head while regarding you. “I almost slipped up a few times there, though. Was a tad distracted.” There was an undeniable cheekiness dripping from his words.

“Yeah?” was all you managed to say.

“Yeah,” he breathed out, leaning against the desk. You had time to small talk, giving as you were finished long before anyone else. “Pretty girls like you really shouldn’t be allowed in here; it’s a safety hazard.”

“You would know all about safety hazards,” you mumbled, fighting yourself from going red from the sentiment or seeing red from the audacity.

Regulus’ laugh seemed more guarded than usual.

“Speaking of,” you said, trying to get the conversation to safer grounds, “who do you think will definitely kill their plants at last today?”

If there was one thing you and Regulus did well, it was gossip, and you managed to derail him into chattering quietly with you instead of doing some weird dance of pushing the limits and then drawing them clearly. As you spoke, you took small, careful steps away from Regulus to put some physical distance between you, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

If you had looked him in the eye even once more before your separation to go to your next periods, you would have seen that he did.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

You would have thought the Quidditch game on Friday to have been a blessing.

The tension had been growing more and more between you and your best friends, and it seemed that the more you volleyed around their pretend flirting, the more fired up they got, in each their own way. It didn’t seem sustainable anymore.

Even Dorcas had grown weary of you, though she tried to remain supportive while urging you strongly to speak with them about it.

“And say what exactly? What could I possibly say that would not make the situation ten times worse?”

Dorcas levelled you with a look that spoke volumes, but she seemed unwilling to verbalise any of it in response. Instead she just offered you a vague, “It might go better than you could imagine.”

You must admit you had grown weary of her cryptic remarks as well.

A quidditch game gave you the perfect opportunity to have a small break from them guilt-free, seeing as they were all playing for Slytherin. In turn, you believed you gave Dorcas a break from working overtime to shield you and keep any awkward situation at bay.

With you in the stands, cheering for your little makeshift family who were all involved in the game somehow – Regulus as Captain and seeker, Barty and Evan as beaters, Dorcas as a chaser and Pandora as commentator – you thought you could finally breathe for a moment.

Any such hopes were shattered when Barty came chasing up beside you before you could ascend the wooden stairs to find your seat.

“Dragă! Hold up!”

The pet name sent warmth up your spine, but the sigh that escaped you was not a happy one. You turned regretfully on your heel to take in Barty’s form as he jogged up to you. His quidditch gear was tight, much more than it had any business being, seeing as he could easily make them larger with a quick spell if he wanted to.

You didn’t ask what he wanted, but he didn’t seem to mind, grin permanently plastered on his face in your presence.

“Do I not get a kiss for good luck?” He threw you a cheeky wink with his comment as he came to stand in front of you, breath slightly laboured.

“Sure you can. Regulus is right over there.” You hoped your voice sounded a bit lighthearted even in your sternness of correcting his flirting. Even more, you hoped the heat in your cheeks had not turned into any noticeable redness.

A look at Barty’s wicked smile told you it might have. “I’ve already gotten plenty from Reggie. Now I just need my girl and I’m golden.”

You knew he didn’t mean it, at least not like that. You knew he meant a kiss on the cheek, and you knew he asked to make fun – not of you, but of the concept of good luck kisses and of your closeness as friends being read as anything else. He likely didn’t even know that you had been among those reading it as something else, this was a joke the two of you were in on, as all best friends should be.

Still, you couldn’t help but wince at the sting in your heart.

“I think you’ll do just fine without it, B.” You pressed your lips together in the same way you would if you were fighting a smile and not a frown.

He tilted his head at you, a mix of black and green strands falling into his eyes. “Have I done something that would make you want me to fall to my death? Because that is what will happen without you as my good luck charm.”

You shook your head, taking miniscule steps towards the stairs; away from him. “I’ll be a shining bright good luck charm in the stands. You’ll see me after, at the party.”

“I sure will,” he replied salaciously, but you caught the flicker in his eyes. “Wear a pretty little thing for me?”

“You know I’ll wear jeans.”

“And aren’t they a pretty little thing?” His smile grew more affectionate. “And you look good in anything, Dragă.”

“Sure.” You cleared your throat, stepping more confidently away from him. “See you later, B. Play well.”

“Just for you, baby!”

It was as if he was laying it on even thicker the more you turned his compliments away. While you never got quite used to his outspoken praise, it had been years since you embraced it and stopped fighting him on it – he didn’t seem quite pleased that you suddenly had started. Then again, Barty never liked not getting his way, so it shouldn’t surprise you.

You turned and walked back up the stairs, not turning to see whether he jogged off too or remained watching you like usual; you didn’t feel like having the pieces of your heart jumped on, and both alternatives would have resulted in nothing less.

In the stands, you settled into your usual place by the railing, seated beside Lily and Marlene, who were there to cheer on Dorcas. The two girls were the only Gryffindors you tolerated, not due to any of your own sentiments, but simply as a form of hatred by-proxy from Regulus and Barty – they were also a great opportunity to slowly edge Regulus closer towards reconciling with his brother. Though you knew in your heart that was a slow-and-steady-wins-the-race type of situation.

The game flew by and while you were relatively certain you cheered in the right places and sat with baited breath at the tense moments, you felt you were never truly present. Pandora’s voice in your ears was lulling, allowing your soul to drift out of your body and float up into the skies. You wondered if maybe you should take her up on her offer of teaching you how to meditate. Maybe that is how you end your torture rather than trying to change Barty and Regulus’ ways of being, even if it sent terribly mixed signals.

You were somehow exhausted by the time the whistle blew to announce Slytherin’s victory, despite not having done anything.

Victory was a guarantee for a rowdy party, which, if you didn’t watch yourself, was a guarantee for mistakes. You could not risk slipping up and confessing your feelings to either boy – though some part of you whispered that perhaps some liquid courage is what you needed to tell them to stop flirting with you.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

If the game had gone by in a blur for you, the party was nothing less. You lost Dorcas to Marlene’s wicked laugh just a few minutes in, and had since drifted between your many groups of friends. Shots with Evan, braiding with Pandora, armwrestling with Emmeline, gossiping with Amelia and Regulus. Throughout the whole night you had managed to keep things light, floating through the crowd and keeping someone by your side at all times. It made it bearable to be near the both of them when you had others to keep up appearances for. It also was a great distraction from the joint envy that bloomed in your heart whenever Barty paraded Regulus around like he ought to.

He tried to parade you too, but you slipped out of his grasp before he ever could.

The closer the night got to being over, the more intimate the atmosphere in the Slytherin common room grew. People migrated from standing around to sitting huddled together, there were quiet conversations and card games instead of yelling and butterbeer pong. There were less of the other house colours, and more of just the familiar greens and faces.

Meaning, it was your cue to slip out and away for a minute.

You, Regulus and Barty always ran off into some corner towards the end to do a debrief of the night, perhaps a bit tipsily. If there was one thing you couldn’t take right now, it would be that.

It was easy to distract the both of them by starting a conversation with Evan and Pandora – whether torture methods has improved or worsened since the dark ages – that would have them in a chokehold. You used the opportunity to slip out through the common room door and walk down the hallway.

It was rare you were grateful for the gloomy dungeons and their cold stonewalls, but this was one such moment. You walked slowly, alone at last, taking deep breaths. Somehow the air felt fresh despite being several metres below ground; anything was better than the stuffy post-party air that clung to the common room.

You let your right hand graze the wall as you walked, texture rough and freezing beneath your fingertips, and tipped your head back with closed eyes. You knew the way like the back of your hand.

At the end of the hall was a rarely-used classroom that functioned more as a storage room these days – your favourite place of refuge. The desk in there was the perfect size to lay down on to close your eyes and relax, feet just barely hanging off the edge. Along the top of the wall was a narrow window that gave an obscured view of the Black Lake, distorted light spilling through to make the most beautiful shapes along the ceiling.

You could stay here and relax and by the time you went back, everyone would have gone off to bed already and you wouldn’t have to face anyone until the morning.

“... Amour?”

You flinched so violently you almost fell off the desk, sitting up by propping yourself onto one elbow and clutching your chest with your other arm. “Gods, Regulus, you cannot fucking sneak up on people like that!”

“Sorry, love.” He offered you a half-hearted smile from where his head popped in through the crack in the door.

Barty’s head appeared just below his, as if he had crouched down to get the comedic angle. “I’m not, what the fuck are you doing here?”

You could hear the light squaffle behind the door as Barty presumably tried to push Regulus aside so he could walk in, while Regulus tried to hold his own to walk with grace. It resulted in them more or less tumbling in, the latter boy straightening up to close the door carefully behind him.

“Whatcha mean?” you asked dumbly, deciding to remain in your half lounged position on the desk at the top of the room.

The boys exchanged a quick look that you didn’t have the time to decipher.

Barty was the one who spoke. “I mean, how come you’re hiding out here? We have very important matters to discuss, you know.”

Your lips tightened slightly. You looked between them quietly while they came up to settle in front of your desk, Regulus deciding to lean his weight against a smaller one behind him while Barty jumped onto it without hesitation, settling into some odd position.

“Needed some fresh air. Party got too hot for me.”

“So you decided to lay down in this dusty room?” Regulus asked humorously, lifting a brow at you.

At the same time Barty commented, “I cannot imagine anything being too hot for you, baby.”

You ignored them both, fighting not to meet their eyes. This was going worse than you imagined.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to run off on you.” You aimed for a light-hearted tone, if a bit tired. “Want to do the debrief in here?”

Regulus hummed questioningly, as if he wanted to probe more, but Barty clapped his hands together. “Yes. You’re simply not getting out of this love, lest my bleeding heart become public knowledge as I wail at your absence.”

“Stop it, Barty,” you whispered. He didn’t hear you, in one way or another.

“Okay, so we all agree Dorcas and Marlene are shagging?”

You sit more up at this, realising you truly would be doing the whole debrief here, and that you would thus likely be here for a while. Also well aware that you know more than both of the boys on that matter, as Dorcas' dorm mate. “Well, duh,” you offer. “But did you see anything tonight?”

You look at Barty as he speaks, but can feel Regulus’ gaze burning through the side of your head, and you wish he would stop trying to scrutinise you. You look over to meet his gaze, hoping to give him an I’m fine smile that would divert his attention. However, when his eyes meet yours you see they are sparkling with that mischief that only Regulus can pull off, the kind that is equal parts elegant and dirty. He winks at you, and you really, really wish he wouldn’t.

You shift your gaze back to Barty, further assuring his claim. “Don’t push it with Cas, though,” you warn. “She will tell you when she feels like."

“But it is so much fun to push it though,” Barty pouted, making his eyes comically big.

“It’s even more fun to not be skinned alive by Dorcas in our sleep.”

“Fine,” he groans, throwing his head back theatrically before settling you with a gaze. “But only because you asked, beautiful.”

You hum noncommitedly, fighting any prickling tears. Don’t be such a fucking twat. Let your friends speak to you.

“Oh,” Regulus said, as if he just remembered a piece of drama to share. “Amelia flirted with me earlier.”

“She what!?” Barty’s voice was not much unlike a banshee’s. “Have I not made it clear that your arse is off the market?”

Your heart plummeted and you had to fight not to let your shoulders grow into your ears.

“Right?” Regulus said through a laugh. “I think she was just too pissed, though. Would have flirted with anything that walked.”

“What did she say?” you asked somewhat meekly.

“Oh, something about gorgeous curls and tight shirts and whatnot.” Regulus made a waving motion with his hand, as if physically brushing it off. “You know, the usual. Called me baby.”

“Only we get to call you baby,” Barty said through a pout.

We?

“I know, amour, I told her as much.”

Barty nodded emphatically. “Good. I don’t like picking fights with birds, but I would if she can’t keep her hands off the goods.”

Regulus gave his leg a light kick with his own. “Down, boy.”

Your stomach was turning over and you desperately wanted to leave. A comment about being tired and wanting to discuss the rest over breakfast tomorrow died on your tongue when Barty turned his attention to you, pout giving way for a scrutinising look.

“What about you, Dragă? Anyone else flirt with you?”

Any turning in your stomach was replaced by an irritation seeping into your bloodstream, one that had been fighting with heartbreak and anxiety for your attention for almost a month now.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business, B.” You’re not sure quite what possessed you to say it, but there was no denying your dry tone.

Barty looked equally puzzled, head actually reeling backwards ever so slightly. Still, he pushed his luck. “Am I not allowed to be concerned for my girl?”

You looked at him incredulously. “I am not your girl.”

That was the whole point. That was the whole heartbreak. That was all you could think about. They were each other’s and you weren’t theirs and you most certainly was not their girl.

Regulus’ stance shifted quickly, tensing in weariness. “Amour, what he meant–”

“I know what he meant.” You sighed, making no effort to hide your pain anymore. You could not take this. “I know what you both mean.”

“Baby–” Barty began, sliding off of his desk and moving towards you, but you cut him off.

“No! Stop it, Barty, please.” He looked as if you had punched him. “I can’t take it anymore, I’m sorry. I am so, so happy for you and I’m glad you’ve found each other like that. But now that you have, I just can’t take you flirting with me or, or doing the play pretend. It’s not fun anymore.”

The room was laid in silence.

You had been defiantly staring at the wall behind them both, but after practically being able to hear the crashing out in their minds, you slid off your own desk and made your way towards the door without sparing them a glance. “I need a moment.”

“No, no, hey, hey, hey,” Barty chanted as he ran up behind you, hand circling loosely around your wrist. Enough to ground you, but not enough to trap you should you want to wrestle free. He slowly came up around your stopped form. “Shit, Y/N, I–” This time he cut himself off, running his free hand through his hair and looking over at Regulus, whose footsteps you could hear stop right behind you.

You stared at the door over Barty’s shoulder. This was your worst nightmare.

“Amour, we’re sorry,” Regulus whispered behind you. His hand came up to ever so slightly trace the side of your arm.

You felt ganged up on where you stood between them and you cursed your body for loving it, even as they were rejecting you more explicitly than ever. “It’s alright. It’s not your fault that you don’t– you know.”

“No, no, no,” Barty chanted yet again, hands coming up to grasp both of your cheeks and bruising away a few tears you only now realised had fallen. You would never stop revelling at how Barty’s touch could be so painfully gentle even when his voice was frantic and passionate. “That’s exactly it, Dragă, we do. We do. I do.”

You met his eyes and furrowed your brows at him. “Barty, I don’t think you understand what I’m saying.”

He had the audacity to laugh quietly at you. “I don’t think you understand what you’re saying. In what world could I, Barty Crouch Junior, not be obsessed with you?”

“Lovely girl,” Regulus whispered as he inched forward into your field of vision, hand growing more confident in its touch on your arm. “I’m sorry, we’ve gone about this all wrong. We realised it quickly, but didn’t know how to fix it. The whole... getting together part happened naturally between Barty and I, and we figured it would with you too immediately after, but it proved, uh, more complicated.”

At last, your brain caught up with you, and your instinctive reaction was to jerk backwards out of both of their grasps, not even feeling the impact of your back hitting the desk behind you. Both boys hissed at the thump that sounded.

You finally looked at both of their eyes and found layers of insecurity and guilt there, along with…

“Are you saying…” you started, but trailed off, unsure how to formulate the words.

“I’m obsessed with you, consumed by you, enthralled by you, whatever word you please, it’s yours. I’m yours.” Barty’s face was almost impassive despite the volumes behind his confession. More tears welled in your eyes, by confusion still more than any relief – you didn’t dare feel that yet.

“What he’s saying is that – well, that we love you.” Regulus smiled and you saw the quiver of his lips at the unfamiliar words.

You let out a half-choked sound. “I don’t understand? But then why– how come–”

Regulus took a careful few steps towards you once more, hand held out between you in a show of safety. “Even as it happened, I remember thinking you would laugh at us for it. Really what happened a month ago was just that we didn’t really think at all.”

“Which you rightfully accuse us of a lot,” Barty added.

“Right. Barty and I were together and drunk and that tension we’ve all had, I guess it finally spilled over for us. By the time we had admitted our feelings physically, we didn’t really need words for it, which is what we both struggle with the most. And you weren’t close by to be dragged into it. When we told everyone we hoped to just… smoothly join you in. Wouldn’t be difficult right, it’s always been the three of us anyway?”

“Turns out it’s not so bloody simple,” Barty grumbled.

By this point, tears were streaming clearly down your face. Regulus reached out a hesitant thumb to wipe them away. “We were stupid, amour. And by the time we got our wits about us, we didn’t know how to reign you in, other than by… continuing being us. Us three.”

“How could I feel like it was us three when it was so clearly you two?” you all but sobbed.

Barty had grown too impatient by Regulus’ easing you in and closed the gap in two long strides, grabbing at your hand fiercely. “You couldn’t, we were just stupid wankers and absolute boys. You’re perfect, it’s not your fault you fell in love with us sods.”

You laughed a bit wetly, bringing grins out on both of their faces. “Bold claim you have there,” you said, some teasing making its way into your voice.

“But an accurate one?” Regulus’ tone was void of humour, just quiet and nervous and hopeful.

“Of course,” you breathed and Barty’s hands tightened around yours. “I always thought it was us three… when it seemed like it was just you two, I– I didn’t really know what to do with myself.”

“So you ran and you hid,” Barty concluded with a nod. Upon your almost offended expression he hastily added, “as is understandable, and as asserted, we are wankers and you are perfect.”

“Stop saying that,” you whispered.

“But it’s true,” Regulus added in the same cadence. Then, a sparkle settled in his eyes as he regarded you. “Can I prove it to you?”

Your breath hitched at the implication but you nodded, ever so hopeful smile growing on your face. You dared tighten your own hold on Barty’s hands – they were delightfully warm.

Regulus’ smile matched yours and he took a final step towards you to bring the two of you together. His lips covered yours in the sweetest of kisses, slow and smooth and exactly how you had guiltily pictured. He breathed in as he kissed you and you felt the air move across your skin, tickling and tingling. When he pulled back he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek too.

“This whole thing should have never played out this way,” he started. “But this is exactly where I always wanted to end up.”

Barty bumped lightly into both of you, giving you a conspiring smile. “It’s true – he tried to brag to me that he had been picturing us three together since fifth year, which is embarrassingly late for him. I’ve pictured this since the fifth week of knowing you both.”

You huffed a laugh, feeling your entire face still burning from the confessions, neck aching from the whiplash and lips tingling from the kiss. “Then you’ve both got eons on me. I only really realised, like, last term.”

“See, that’s because you are sane,” Barty provided, circling his arms around your hips to pull both you and Regulus closer to him. “A sane beautiful girl who balances us out perfectly and who completes my heart.”

“One we will spend eons making up lost time with,” Regulus added somewhat cheekily.

You brought your hands up to properly wipe at your face, hoping to remove redness and giddiness with the wet. “It’s barely been a month.”

“A month you spent confused and hurt, Dragă. That cannot slide. I would have hexed anyone else who did that to you.”

“No one else could have broken my heart,” you said then, intending it to be romantic.

The horrified looks on their faces said otherwise. “You were heartbroken?” Barty exclaimed in intense frustration, pulling his wand up and handing it to Regulus. “Reggie, baby, I need you to Avada me right now. Use my wand so they can’t trace you and send you to Azkaban, because you need to be her personal servant to repent for us.”

“Barty!” you laughed, quickly plucking the wand out of his hands before any shenanigans could occur. “It’s fine, really–”

“Nope, absolutely not,” he cut you off. “I must fix this. Kiss it better?”

Before you could even really respond he brought his hand up to the back of your neck, pulling your face gently albeit quickly towards his. Millimetres before his lips could crash with yours, though, he paused. Giving you the opportunity to back down. His thumb was ghosting carefully across the baby hairs at the nape of your neck.

With a delighted sigh, you leaned your chest against his and brought him the final way in for the kiss.

His lips were softer than they looked, fitting exactly within the narrative that usually followed your relationship with Barty. He quickly opened them for you, bringing your bottom lip in between yours and kissing you passionately, tongue sliding over delicate skin. One of your hands curled into his shirt by his collar, wand long since discarded on a desk, while the other found Regulus’ neck, massaging it not much unlike Barty did with yours.

Barty’s skillful lips trailed happy kisses along your jaw, turning into a smile at the breathy laugh that escaped you at his ministrations.

Your eyes met Regulus while Barty practically attempted to bury himself beneath your skin, smiling and sighing against you – kissing it better. The former boy’s smile was at its widest and most sentimental, encircling the both of you within his arms.

“Y/N,” he said, almost seriously. “We will do right by you, as we always should have. I’ll start by asking, will you please legitimise our feelings by becoming our girlfriend?”

Before you could reply, Barty added against your neck, “And will you please take back your demand we stop flirting with you, because I don’t think I can.”

You were afraid your smile was almost dreamy – everything you believed out of reach just a few minutes ago was not quite literally cradled in your arms. “You are both so unbelievable. Yes, I’ll happily be your girlfriend and yes you may flirt with me.”

Barty popped his head back up from your neck, lips somewhat swollen despite being stretched wide. “Fucking finally.”

“You say that as if I was the one holding back,” you teased, poking him in the chest.

“And while I will lay down and take a sword to the chest for ever believing I was not mad about you,” Barty began. “I think there is also something to be said about little miss run away and completely shut away any and all feelings and compliments.”

You hummed as if in thought. “No, I don’t think so.”

Regulus snorted in that way he only ever did around you two. Then, he reached out and gave you two, three kisses in a row, grinning all the while. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Too cute.”

Barty, tactile as ever, was cradling your cheek in his hand, tracing the side of your nose with his index finger. “I want the court to know that I am absolutely mad about Regulus,” he started, smiling all the while. “But it was always you too, silly.”

Emboldened, you leaned forward and gave him a sweet kiss. “Glad to know it.”

“Now let’s make sure everyone else does too, yeah?”

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