#always happy to answer questions about them

[elikajinnie]

Enchant me - P.S

P: Ravenclaw!Sunghoon X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Suggestive Content, Angst, Sunghoon is kinda mean (not to you), Academic Rivalry, Tension, Fluff, Teasing, Jealousy, Misunderstandings, Happy Ending, Newt Scamander Mention!!

Synopsis: You’ve always found yourself in competition with Park Sunghoon, a brilliant Ravenclaw who seemed to have it all—intelligence, charm, and ambition. Whether it was academic duels or playful banter, he was always your rival. Yet, the only thing he truly wanted was you.

Wordcount: + 30k ( i know.. im sorry)

a/n: yall strap in for this one.. (heeseung is the last one that will be posted soon :) if yall wanna see more of the hogwarts au let me know!

masterlist

--

You couldn’t exactly pinpoint when you started being an overachiever in your studies. It was a gradual thing, a slow shift that snuck up on you and became part of who you were. When you received your letter to Hogwarts, you were ecstatic—absolutely thrilled by the thought of magic, the possibility of flying, the enchantment of potions, and the spells. But then you saw the material and you knew right away that in order to succeed, you had to study.

But it didn’t stop there. As you poured yourself into your work, absorbed every bit of information, you started to realize something else—something that fueled you even more. Praise. Recognition. House points. The feeling of achievement after every successful spell or potion, the way other students came to you for help. It was intoxicating. The more you learned, the more respect you gained, and you could feel your status growing. It was simple math, really: hard work plus success equals recognition. And you thrived on it.

Soon enough, you became known as one of the top students at Hogwarts, the one everyone turned to when they needed help or advice. And you liked it. You liked the feeling of being ahead, of being the best at something. You liked the way professors praised you, the way your name carried weight when spoken in hallways. You’d earned this position. You deserved it.

But, of course, you weren’t the only one who excelled. There were others, too, students who worked just as hard as you did. And you were fine with it. You respected them; they respected you. It wasn’t about competition—it was about mutual recognition.

Then there was Park Sunghoon.

He was a quiet Ravenclaw, one who kept to himself for the most part, except when he was in class. That’s when everything changed. He had a way of standing out without even trying—his answers sharp, his insight keen, his mind quick. Every time you thought you had the answer, Sunghoon was already there, raising his hand or blurting it out in that effortless, nonchalant way. And every single time, your chest tightened, your stomach dropped. He was always just a step ahead of you, and you hated it.

But what really made your blood boil wasn’t just that he outperformed you—it was the way he did it. The way he would always, always look at you with that damn smirk. That teasing, almost mocking expression, as if he knew exactly what it did to you. As if he relished in it. Every time he answered a question before you, every time he earned praise or house points, he would glance over at you, eyes glinting, that smug smile never leaving his face. It wasn’t just a simple exchange of competition. It was personal. It was deliberate. And it drove you mad.

It didn’t help that Park Sunghoon was everything you hated and everything you secretly admired. He was smart—impossibly smart. His resourcefulness in class was unmatched, and every time he spoke, it felt like he had all the answers. And on top of all that, he was tall, handsome, with perfectly styled hair that never seemed to fall out of place, his Ravenclaw robes always crisp and neat. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t catch yourself staring at him sometimes, trying to pretend you weren’t affected by how effortlessly he seemed to glide through life. He was always polished, always put together, and you hated how good he looked doing it.

It only made things worse when you started realizing that you were developing feelings for him. A crush, despite everything. Despite the way he ignored others, brushing them off like they were nothing, like they were dust clinging to his perfect robes. You couldn’t help it. He was attractive, there was no denying that. But it wasn’t just that—it was the way he held himself. The prefect badge on his chest always gleaming, always sparkling. The way he moved through the castle with an air of authority, a quiet power that seemed to command the attention of everyone in the room.

If Sunghoon deemed you as beneath him, he wouldn’t hesitate to let you know it—not directly, of course. No, that would be too obvious. Instead, he would treat you like one of the ghosts haunting Hogwarts, barely sparing you a glance, letting his indifference cut deeper than words ever could. You’d watch him glide past students who tried to catch his attention, their hopeful faces falling as he brushed them off without a second thought. His expression would remain blank, that neutral, almost cruel face he reserved for people he deemed unworthy of his time.

And the moments when he was forced to acknowledge someone? That’s when his sharp, silver tongue came out. You’d witnessed him being cold and dismissive, shutting down anyone who dared to push their luck. He had a way of saying just the right thing to make people feel small, a razor-edged wit that cut through even the bravest students, leaving them stammering, unsure of what they’d done wrong. It was subtle, and he was never outright rude—just dismissive enough to make it sting.

And yet, you couldn’t shake the crush. You hated it. You hated him. But the more he teased, the more you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting him.

And you wouldn’t dare to say you liked Sunghoon—not in the way one might admit to having a crush, at least. No, liking him wasn’t even an option. If anything, you tolerated him on your best days, pushed yourself to ignore the smug expressions and the subtle, condescending way he would respond to you in class. And on the worst days? You found yourself actively ignoring him. Because nothing seemed to satisfy Sunghoon more than bringing others down to elevate himself.

When someone dared to voice an answer he deemed beneath his own standards, you’d see it: the slight narrowing of his eyes, the subtle twist of his lips. He’d wait, just a beat, before stepping in to “correct” them, his tone laced with just enough contempt to make it clear who the “real” intellect in the room was. And somehow, he managed to do it all without outright insulting anyone. His comments were surgical, precise, his criticism delivered with a calm, cold detachment that only made it sting more. It made you question him, wonder why he seemed so determined to keep everyone beneath him.

But what frustrated you most was his selective charm. You’d watch him laugh and chat easily with other high-ranking students, his demeanor suddenly pleasant, even civil. He’d converse with them like they were equals, never the hint of a condescending smirk, no belittling glances. And in front of professors? Sunghoon transformed entirely. He was the picture of the ideal student, humble, deferential, offering polished responses that seemed designed to earn him a rare smile or a nod of approval. The teachers couldn’t seem to get enough of him.

You couldn’t wrap your head around it. His calculated, chameleon-like behavior left you wondering, time and time again, why he had ended up in Ravenclaw and not Slytherin. After all, he possessed every quality they prized: cunning, ambition, a nearly ruthless drive to succeed. It was like he wore a Ravenclaw uniform, but underneath, his nature seemed more like that of a Slytherin than anything else.

And perhaps, deep down, that was what unsettled you most about him—that he seemed to wear a mask depending on who he was with.

It frustrated you, intrigued you, and, despite yourself, drew you in.

So, you had learned to keep your distance from Sunghoon, to wear a mask of indifference around him. A poker face. Neutral. Unmoved. It became second nature, the way you could shut down your emotions whenever he entered the room, the way you refused to show any weakness in his presence. If you didn’t give him anything, you reasoned, he’d get bored of you eventually. He’d move on, as he did with everyone else. You figured, if you didn’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction, he’d leave you alone.

But now, reflecting on it, you realized that might have been the wrong choice. Because it didn’t matter how little you engaged with him. Sunghoon had a way of finding you. It was like he had a radar, some silent pull that always seemed to zero in on you during the day. And when he did, that was it. You had his full attention. Not a passing glance, not an idle comment. Sunghoon would fix his gaze on you, like a hawk locking onto its prey, his focus unyielding. It wasn’t an accidental glance; it was deliberate. Every moment, every word, every action seemed like it was a calculated move to engage with you, to get your attention—whether you wanted it or not.

If you were anyone else, if you were just a normal student, you might’ve gushed about it, maybe even bragged to your friends. After all, who wouldn’t want the attention of someone like Sunghoon? The handsome, accomplished, and charming prefect. But you weren’t anyone else. You weren’t lesser. You knew exactly why he sought you out—and it wasn’t because of some secret admiration.

He saw you as competition. You were an obstacle in his path to greatness. The two of you were always near the top of the class, always neck-and-neck, and he wasn’t about to let someone else get ahead of him. You knew that much. He probably had plans of his own—dreams of becoming an Auror, or securing some high-ranking position in the Ministry of Magic. He wasn’t going to let anyone stand in his way. And you were the one standing there, blocking his path. He had to prove he was better, that he was the best. It was almost… inevitable.

But deep down, you started to realize that there was something more to it than that. Sunghoon wasn’t just focused on outshining you academically. No. You had started to see the little things—the moments when his eyes lingered a little too long, the rare flicker of something deeper in his expression when he caught you in the hall or across a classroom.

And it made you question: was there more to how he saw you than just another obstacle? Were you something else entirely?

You first started to figure it out years ago, back when you were in fourth year and the two of you shared a few classes. It was the first time you’d really noticed Sunghoon, in Astronomy class, of all places. You had been excited for that class, you had always been fascinated by space, by the endless expanse of stars and the way the moon seemed to shift and change. As a child, you’d spent countless hours lying on the grass, gazing up at the sky, watching the constellations dance. You hadn’t thought twice about taking the class, certain you’d excel.

But you weren’t the only one eager to impress the professor. No, there was another student who seemed just as invested, answering questions with ease, his knowledge sharp and quick. You’d expected some competition, sure—but it was the way he answered, the confidence with which he spoke, that made you take notice.

It was Sunghoon.

You could see it in his eyes, the surprise that mirrored your own. The realization that you weren’t just any ordinary student—no, you were just as capable, just as quick-witted as he was. And that’s when it clicked: you weren’t just another student to him. You were a challenge.

After class, you’d been making your way out of the room, mind already spinning with the next lesson. But then you’d turned a corner and found yourself face-to-face with him, Sunghoon standing in the hallway like he was waiting for you. You hadn’t expected it, not at all.

“Impressive,” he’d said, raising an eyebrow. “You always this good with the material?”

You’d been taken aback, not quite sure how to respond, but something in his tone made you pause. At that point you weren’t used to students, especially not someone like him, complimenting your intellect outright. And yet, there was something sharp about his words, something that made you feel like this wasn’t just casual admiration.

“Of course,” you replied, instinctively meeting his challenge. “It’s not that difficult once you understand the basics.”

Sunghoon gave a smirk that only seemed to intensify the challenge. “So,” he began, crossing his arms. “If you’re as clever as you say, what’s the difference between the Confundus Charm and the Misdirection Hex?”

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed but entertained. “Easy. The Confundus Charm affects the mind, creating confusion and distorting a person’s perception, whereas the Misdirection Hex only creates a temporary distraction without altering any mental clarity.”

Sunghoon nodded, clearly expecting that you’d know the answer but not missing a beat. “Fair enough. How about this one—” he leaned in slightly, his eyes glinting, “if you were to brew Amortentia, what’s the critical ingredient that activates the potion’s scent signature?”

You didn’t even flinch. “Moonstone. It’s the key to personalizing the scent and creating that pull, that... sense of longing,” you replied, a trace of smugness in your voice. “Now my turn.”

You watched him closely, his expression unchanging, as you asked, “What’s the main difference between Episkey and Vulnera Sanentur?”

Sunghoon’s gaze narrowed. “Episkey is a basic healing charm that works for minor injuries—usually cuts or bruises. Vulnera Sanentur, on the other hand, is far more advanced, and it actually seals major wounds, specifically stopping blood flow and beginning tissue repair.”

You smiled, only a little disappointed that he got it right. “Well done, Park,” you replied, crossing your arms.

But he wasn’t done yet. With a slight tilt of his head, he said, “If you’re so good, tell me, what’s the incantation for a Hot-Air Charm, and when would it be used?”

“Calidus Aero,” you replied easily, rolling your eyes. “And it’s used to produce a continuous flow of warm air. Good for drying things—or keeping people warm.”

There was a slight twitch of his lips, as if he were amused that you’d added the last bit. “Impressive. But let’s see how you handle this one,” he continued, looking pleased. “What’s the effect of adding powdered Runespoor eggs to a Memory Potion?”

You paused for only a moment, narrowing your eyes at him. “It sharpens the recall and clarity of recent memories, but it also makes them harder to alter or distort after the fact,” you replied, watching him carefully. “A good trick for Aurors needing airtight evidence in trials.”

There was a flicker of surprise in his expression, though he tried to hide it. “Not bad,” he admitted, a trace of a smile showing. “Looks like you know your potions.” He shifted, almost as if he’d found the whole exchange too easy. Then he gave you a look—calculated and challenging. “One more. What’s the wand movement for the Incarcerous spell, and what’s the incantation variation that makes the conjured ropes fireproof?”

You tried not to show that this one caught you off guard. “The wand movement for Incarcerous is a firm downward flick, followed by a counterclockwise twirl,” you said carefully, a smirk forming as you gained confidence. “And the fireproof variation is Ignus Incarcerous.”

Sunghoon let out a low chuckle, a little begrudging, but impressed all the same.

You’d hoped that after that, he’d leave it at that, yet, as you turned to leave, you felt his gaze on your back. And before you could walk away, he stopped you. You had expected something snide, maybe a remark about how you’d bested him, or how you were too proud. Instead, he spoke, his voice smooth, almost teasing.

“You’re… smarter than I expected.” There was a pause, and then he’d added, “In fact, you’re pretty impressive.”

You had frozen, not sure what to make of it. But then came the twist: the way he said it, the slight upturn of his lips, the almost flirtatious edge to his words. It caught you off guard.

You had been prepared for rivalry, for sharp competition, but not for that. Not for him to suddenly flirt with you. The change in his tone, the way his words softened, made you feel uneasy, but also... intrigued.

You hadn’t known how to respond, but all you could do was walk away, your mind racing. Sunghoon—Park Sunghoon—had just complimented you with the kind of look that made your heart beat a little faster, even though you told yourself you hated him.

You had barely made it a few steps when you heard him call out, his voice smooth and teasing, like a final jab in a match you hadn’t realized was over.

“Not bad at all,” Sunghoon said, the faintest hint of a smirk curling at his lips, his tone dipping slightly, as if it were more of a challenge than a compliment. “Nice to know there’s someone around here who can keep up.”

For a moment, your pulse quickened. You wanted to respond, to throw a witty retort back at him. But you couldn’t find the words—because you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much that one line had affected you.

Instead, you just stopped. You didn’t turn around, not fully, but you allowed yourself one quick glance over your shoulder.

Sunghoon was standing there, looking perfectly composed, his hands tucked casually behind him, his eyes following you with that unreadable look. The smirk remained, but there was something different about it now—less arrogant, more knowing. Almost like he was waiting for you to react, as if this small exchange was part of some game he wasn’t finished playing yet.

Without a word, you turned back around and continued walking, your steps brisk, your mind swirling.

--

You didn’t usually talk to Sunghoon outside of class—there was never much reason to. Your friend groups didn’t overlap, and both of you had your own routines, different paths to follow. But somehow, that didn’t stop him. No, every chance he got, Sunghoon would find a way to cross paths with you. He’d come up to you before classes, lean against a wall, and throw in some teasing remark about the next lesson or slyly compliment you on your latest academic achievement. It was almost like clockwork.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the star student,” he said, his tone playful but sharp. “Bet you’ve already memorized the entire textbook for today’s lesson, haven’t you?”

You rolled your eyes, not even breaking your stride. “You’re the one who’s obsessed with keeping up with every lesson, Sunghoon. I’m just trying to avoid getting bored.”

He chuckled, pushing off from the door and walking alongside you. “Right, because you’re totally not the type to get caught up in the thrill of perfect grades.” His eyes twinkled with a mixture of admiration and challenge. “I guess I’ll just have to make sure you don’t make it too easy for yourself.”

You smirked back, not missing a beat. “You’re right, I don’t like making things easy,” you said dryly. “But I’m sure you’re just trying to keep me on my toes, aren’t you, Sunghoon?”

He shrugged with a grin. “I’m just keeping things interesting. Besides, I have a reputation to uphold.”

Another time, just before Transfiguration, you found him leaning against a pillar, twirling his wand with a practiced ease, his gaze catching yours as you approached.

“So, tell me, have you figured out the secret to getting Transfiguration perfect every time, or do you just have some magic trick up your sleeve?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.

You answered, not at all phased. “I think you’d be more impressed if you actually paid attention during class instead of just showing off your wand skills, Sunghoon.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Oh, I pay attention. But I’m just more interested in seeing if you can stay on top of everything. Don’t want to make it too easy for you, right?”

“You wouldn’t know what to do without a challenge, would you?” you shot back, giving him a sideways glance.

“You’re right,” he said, his grin widening. “And it’s not every day I get to challenge someone like you.”

And alas every day, just before classes, there he was, making some comment that practically demanded a response. You’d either fire back a witty remark of your own or just give him a deadpan look, as if you couldn’t be bothered. And yet, he’d show up again the next day, and the cycle would repeat. It was a routine you both seemed to have unconsciously built into your days. Neither of you ever missed it, both being somewhat meticulous about perfect attendance.

At some point, you realized it was strange. You noticed that he never spoke to anyone else in quite the same way. No other girl at Hogwarts seemed to have the so-called privilege of Sunghoon’s attention, and it confused you beyond belief. It didn’t make sense—he was smart, popular, handsome. And yet, he’d somehow decided that teasing you was worth his time.

It wasn’t until one late afternoon in the library that the thought came to a head. You were tutoring one of your Hufflepuff friends, helping her brush up on Transfiguration, when she looked at you with a knowing smile and just dropped it on you.

“I think Sunghoon likes you,” she said casually, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

You laughed it off immediately, shaking your head. “That’s not possible. Sunghoon only likes people if they can help him get more house points,” you replied. “Why would he like me?”

Your friend just shrugged, that same smile still on her face. “You’re the only person he talks to like that,” she pointed out. “It’s like he’s constantly finding an excuse to be around you.”

You tried to ignore it, brush it off as one of her theories. But later, when you were alone, you couldn’t shake her words from your mind. You thought back to every interaction you’d seen between Sunghoon and other students, particularly girls. The more you thought about it, the more you realized it was true: you’d never once seen him act the same way around another girl. In fact, you couldn’t remember him ever dating anyone. Despite the whispers in the corridors and the way some girls openly admired him, he never seemed interested. No, you’d seen him reject more of them than you could count.

But with you... things were different.

You didn’t know what to make of it. Sunghoon had always been that one puzzle you couldn’t solve. He was unpredictable, throwing in little remarks as if he’d calculated your every reaction.

If he did like you, it would mean something you hadn’t prepared for. It would mean you’d been wrong about him—or, at least, about why he kept coming back to you.

Maybe that was why you found yourself in the library a little later than usual, searching for one specific book. The library was quieter than it had been all day, with only a handful of students still scattered between the rows of shelves, their heads buried in their books. Madam Pince was busy sorting through a stack of newly returned books at the far end of the room, so you figured you’d have some peace and quiet to yourself.

You’d been meaning to find this particular book for a while. The only problem was that you hadn’t seen it in the library for months. The last time you’d seen it, it had caught your eye when one of your Gryffindor friends had been flipping through its pages in the common room. You hadn’t been able to get a good look at it, but now, as you found it tucked away in the far corner, you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips.

You pulled the book off the shelf carefully, balancing it in your hands as you climbed down the ladder. The title read “Figuring and Tackling Your Feelings.” It was something about sorting through emotions, a guide that, frankly, seemed more like it belonged in the realm of self-help than anything academic. You weren’t sure why it had piqued your interest so much, but you were eager to take a closer look, especially now with everything on your mind.

Before you could fully inspect the cover, a voice came from behind you, low and familiar.

“Well, well. What do we have here?” Sunghoon’s voice cut through the silence of the library like a knife.

You jumped, startled, spinning around instinctively to hide the book behind your back. Your heart skipped a beat as you tried to regain your composure. There he stood, leaning casually against a nearby shelf, eyes already trained on you with that signature smirk of his.

“What are you doing here, Sunghoon?” you asked, your tone betraying the sudden flurry of nerves. You couldn’t help it. The last thing you needed right now was for him to get a glimpse of what you were holding.

“Me? Oh, nothing,” he said with a shrug, his eyes flicking to the book behind your back. “But you, on the other hand… reading ahead, are we?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “It’s none of your business,” you said quickly, trying to keep your voice steady.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Is that so?” His steps were slow and deliberate as he moved closer to you, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “You know, it’s not like you to hide books behind your back. What’s got you so secretive?”

Before you could stop him, his hand darted toward the book, attempting to grab it from behind your back. Reflexively, you twisted away, turning just enough so that he couldn’t get his hands on it. You managed to get a better grip on the book, but Sunghoon wasn’t backing off. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying the little game.

“Oh no, you don’t,” you muttered, trying to hold the book out of his reach. “Stop trying to grab it.”

Sunghoon just grinned, his gaze never leaving the book. “Come on, just let me see it. You know, I always find it fascinating when people start acting so mysterious about things.”

You twirled around again, moving just a little faster than him this time, keeping the book hidden behind you. The book’s cover was almost too easy to read from his angle, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he’d noticed the title.

“Why are you so curious about what I’m reading?” you shot back, hoping the question would throw him off balance.

His grin widened. “Maybe I just like seeing how you react. You’ve always been so… poised. I wonder if there’s more to you than the perfect student.” His voice dropped a little, a note of challenge creeping in. “Come on, just give it to me. You’re not that afraid of a little friendly competition, are you?”

You felt your cheeks flush slightly, the teasing getting to you. “It’s not about competition,” you muttered, taking another step back to keep the book away from his prying fingers. “Just… drop it, alright?”

His eyes flickered to the book once more, then back to you. “Fine, fine,” he said, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “But you’re really not going to let me see what you’re reading? You’re too mysterious for your own good.”

You exhaled, trying to calm your racing heart as you finally straightened up, no longer trying to keep it hidden. “It’s just a book. Nothing important.”

He tilted his head, eyeing you with that all-too-knowing look. “Uh-huh,” he said, clearly unconvinced.

And with that, he turned and strolled away, his footsteps echoing softly through the nearly empty library.

You let out a long breath, the book still in your hands, but your mind now racing in a way it hadn’t been before. Why had you reacted like that? What was it about Sunghoon’s teasing that got under your skin so easily?

You couldn’t shake the feeling that Sunghoon had seen right through you—like he always did. As the library door closed behind you, you felt a strange sense of relief mixed with lingering unease. You hadn’t expected that interaction to leave you so rattled. It was just Sunghoon, right? Yet, there was something about his persistence, the way he kept pushing you, that had thrown you off balance.

The book was still tucked under your arm as you made your way out of the library and toward your common room. You tried to focus on the cool, quiet hallways of Hogwarts, the flickering torches lighting your path. The winding corridors, usually so familiar, now seemed almost too vast, too empty.

The sound of your footsteps echoed as you passed through the hallway, heading toward the familiar portrait that would let you into your common room. You had to hurry; curfew was close, and Madam Pince had already given you a warning for lingering too long in the library.

As you reached the entrance to your common room, you glanced over your shoulder, just in time to catch a shadow move in the corner of your vision. But when you turned fully, the hallway was empty, just the faint echo of your own footsteps following you.

You shrugged it off. You must have imagined it.

With a quick word, the portrait swung open, and you stepped inside, relieved to be back in the warmth of your common room.

Outside, beyond the walls of the common room, Sunghoon stood hidden in the shadows, leaning against a pillar just out of sight, watching you go. His eyes lingered a moment longer than necessary before he turned and slowly disappeared into the shadows. He walked through the dimly lit hallways, his footsteps echoing softly in the quiet night. He hadn’t intended to follow you; it wasn’t some grand plan.

He’d tried to convince himself it was just curiosity—nothing more. After all, you were the only one who seemed to keep up with him in class. You challenged him, and that’s what he’d always thrived on.

And it was like he couldn’t not think about you. And that frustrated him.

He never expected you to be this… enigmatic. No one else had ever caught his attention like this—not like you did. It was a puzzle, one that didn’t make sense, and yet the more he tried to figure you out, the more complicated and captivating you became.

You had this effortless confidence, a sharp wit that matched his, but you weren’t like the other students he’d come across. You weren’t trying to impress anyone, not even him. There was something in your eyes when you’d deflect his teasing, a glimmer of something he couldn’t place. You didn’t give him the satisfaction of reacting the way he expected, and that drove him mad.

Sunghoon pushed a hand through his hair, his thoughts tangled as he navigated the winding corridors of Hogwarts. He shouldn’t be thinking about you so much. There were other things to focus on—other students, other challenges, other ways to advance. Yet, every time he tried to shake it off, his mind would return to you.

How had you managed to enrapture him so effortlessly? He wasn’t the type of person to become so… fixated. Yet here he was, walking through the darkened halls, and all he could think about was you. You never played by the same rules as everyone else, and that intrigued him more than he cared to admit.

No. He couldn’t let himself get tangled up in this. You were a challenge, just like he’d always wanted. You were nothing more than that, right?

But even as he told himself this, Sunghoon couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something else—something more—that was pulling him toward you.

--

You sat at your desk in Potions class, the scratch of your quill against parchment the only sound filling the otherwise quiet classroom. Snape’s voice droned on, but your mind kept drifting. You had hoped for a peaceful class today—one where you could focus on the lesson without the usual distractions. But of course, it didn’t take long for that hope to be dashed.

The seat next to you, which had been occupied by a nervous Hufflepuff just moments ago, was now filled by none other than Park Sunghoon.

You didn’t look up immediately when he sat down. You had caught the tail end of his glare directed at the Hufflepuff, whose wide eyes had flicked from Sunghoon’s cold stare to you in a silent plea. In an instant, the Hufflepuff had scurried off, leaving the seat beside you vacant for Sunghoon to claim.

A small sigh escaped your lips, but you didn’t let it show. Instead, you focused on your notes, carefully copying the ingredients Snape was listing for the potion you were about to brew. You wouldn’t let him distract you, not this time. The class was important, and the competition was heating up, especially with exams just around the corner.

You could feel the subtle shift in the air with Sunghoon settled beside you. But today, he didn’t say anything. Not a word. He simply unpacked his books, setting them down with a quiet precision, and began his own notes. It was almost too quiet, too… calm. It was rare that he didn’t start a conversation, especially considering the usual banter you both shared.

The fact that he was acting so reserved, while sitting so close to you, made you all the more aware of the faint tension between you. It was like he was waiting for you to say something first. But you wouldn’t. Not this time.

You kept your focus on your parchment, the quill moving smoothly as you wrote. It was an exercise in patience, in ignoring the small things: the way his sleeve brushed yours as he leaned over to grab an ingredient, the soft rustling of his books as he turned pages. You didn’t let your mind wander. You wouldn’t.

Yet, no matter how much you tried to ignore him, you felt the pull of his presence, as if he were a magnet. You stole a glance at him out of the corner of your eye. He was scribbling down notes too, but there was something different about the way he held his quill, the way his eyes flicked to the board and then to the ingredients list. He was concentrating, but you knew it wasn’t just the potion he was thinking about.

The realization hit you a little too late: He was watching you.

Your quill faltered for just a second before you steadied it again, keeping your eyes on the board. You couldn’t ignore the small, almost imperceptible glance he threw at you from time to time. It was the kind of look that made you question whether he was as unfazed as he appeared—or if, like you, he was just trying to hold his composure.

The class ended bit too soon, but not before you felt that pull again. Before you could gather your things, Sunghoon stood up, his chair scraping the floor with a soft sound. He didn’t look at you as he walked away, but you couldn’t help but feel the weight of his gaze linger on your back as you packed up your belongings.

--

The class was buzzing with quiet energy as Professor Snape swept into the room, his black robes billowing behind him as he made his way to the front. You could feel the usual hum of anticipation ripple through the classroom as he began with his first question, his gaze sharp and probing.

Without fail, Sunghoon was seated right beside you. He had strolled in at the last possible second and taken the empty seat before you could even think about moving. It was a position that had become an unspoken habit between the two of you—a silent agreement that this was where you would always sit, even if neither of you admitted it out loud.

“Who can tell me the primary function of wolfsbane in this potion?” Snape’s gaze swept across the class, but it settled almost immediately on you.

You raised your hand automatically, but just as you opened your mouth to answer, Sunghoon’s voice cut through the air. “The primary function of wolfsbane is to suppress the transformation of a werewolf. But specifically, in this potion, it’s used to temper the effects, making the potion safe for consumption by those with lycanthropic tendencies.”

Your jaw clenched, and you quickly chimed in, “That’s true, but wolfsbane’s reaction with belladonna is crucial to ensure the potion is actually effective. Otherwise, you risk a rapid breakdown of the ingredients, and the potion loses its potency within hours.”

A faint smirk played on Sunghoon’s lips as he turned slightly to face you, his eyes glinting with a mixture of challenge and amusement. “Of course,” he said, his voice low enough for only you to hear, “but that’s only if the brewer doesn’t know how to stabilize the reaction properly.”

“Oh, so you’re saying you know better than the author of ‘Potions for Practical Application’?” You raised an eyebrow, the hint of a challenge in your voice.

Snape’s voice sliced through your exchange. “If the two of you are quite finished,” he said dryly, “perhaps you’d like to enlighten the rest of the class.”

You both looked up, not missing the faint irritation in his expression. And yet, as he crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, he seemed almost amused. If Snape enjoyed one thing in his classes, it was competent students—but if he enjoyed two things, it was watching competent students try to one-up each other.

With a quick glance at Sunghoon, you cleared your throat and addressed the rest of the class, your voice steady. “Wolfsbane, also known as aconite, stabilizes the transformation process. But the reason belladonna is needed in the mixture is because it counters the initial toxicity of the aconite.”

Sunghoon jumped in seamlessly, his tone smooth. “Exactly. Aconite alone could be harmful, but combined with the right ingredients, it actually makes the potion effective. Belladonna slows down the rate of the potion’s effect, balancing the intensity.”

You could see Snape’s eyes narrow just a fraction, clearly considering whether he’d allow this back-and-forth to continue. He hadn’t interrupted yet, though, and so you didn’t hold back.

“That only works, though,” you continued, “if the potion is brewed at precisely the right temperature. A variance of even one degree could cause the aconite to overpower the belladonna, which is why attention to detail is critical here.”

Sunghoon leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “True. But I’d argue that anyone who’s capable of brewing at an advanced level should be able to handle such minor details.” He cast a sideways glance at you. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

You narrowed your eyes, resisting the urge to roll them. He was enjoying this far too much. “Perhaps. Though, as they say, perfectionists always notice the minor details others miss.”

“Implying I’m not a perfectionist?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. His tone was light, but you could sense the competitive edge in it.

You shrugged, giving him a look of feigned innocence. “Just that you might not be as exacting as some of us.”

Before he could retort, Snape stepped in, his voice a mixture of impatience and reluctant amusement. “Miss Y/L/N. Mr. Park. While I am deeply fascinated by your thorough analysis, the class may benefit from a more structured approach.” He glanced around at the other students, who were watching you and Sunghoon with a mix of curiosity and amusement.

Your cheeks flushed as you turned back to your notes, feeling a rush of heat from Sunghoon’s lingering gaze. But Snape wasn’t done.

“In fact, why don’t you both demonstrate your understanding?” Snape gestured to the cauldron at the front of the room. “Brew the potion together. Let’s see if your theoretical knowledge holds up under practical application.”

You felt the tension shift as Sunghoon pushed himself up from his chair, casting a smirk in your direction. “Let’s see if you can keep up, then,” he murmured as he moved to the front.

Swallowing your nerves, you followed him, setting out the ingredients with practiced ease. As you worked, the rivalry simmered just beneath the surface. Sunghoon was methodical, careful with each step, yet he didn’t miss an opportunity to toss a teasing comment your way.

“Careful,” he said at one point, his voice low. “That’s a lot of aconite you’re adding there. Are you sure you’re not trying to mess up the potion to make a point?”

You shot him a look. “Maybe I just don’t trust you to brew this properly without a little oversight.”

His eyes glinted. “Funny, because I was about to say the same thing to you.”

The two of you continued in this vein, quietly exchanging barbs as you measured, stirred, and added ingredients with exacting precision.

When the potion was nearly complete, you both paused, watching as the liquid in the cauldron shifted from murky green to a smooth, midnight blue—the exact color it was supposed to be.

Sunghoon tilted his head, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Not bad,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You met his gaze, a smirk of your own forming. “Could say the same to you.”

The rest of the class continued in much the same way, the tension between you and Sunghoon thick as you both remained locked in your rivalry. As Professor Snape continued his lesson, you and Sunghoon each made sure to answer his questions before the other could, each answer delivered with just enough confidence to imply you had known it all along.

Every now and then, you’d catch Sunghoon looking your way, a small, knowing smile on his face, as if he could read every thought running through your mind.

Just as you were jotting down notes on the final instructions for the potion, a Ravenclaw beside you leaned over. “Hey, Y/N,” she whispered, “can I borrow your notes from last week? I’m a bit behind.”

Before you could even respond, you noticed a shift beside you. From the corner of your eye, you saw Sunghoon’s expression harden. His jaw clenched as he shot the Ravenclaw a sharp look, his gaze practically daring her to linger a moment longer.

She hesitated, glancing between you and Sunghoon before quickly saying, “You know what, never mind. I’ll, uh, figure it out.” With that, she scurried off, leaving you a bit bewildered.

You turned back to your notes, only to feel Sunghoon relax beside you, leaning back in his chair with a casual air as if nothing had happened. His expression softened, the subtle smirk you’d come to expect making its return. You rolled your eyes, not bothering to address it as you continued your notes. But before long, another student tried to approach.

This time, it was a Gryffindor who slipped you a folded note with a question on today’s potion. But before you could even open it, you noticed that same glint in Sunghoon’s eyes, like he was quietly measuring the other student’s worth. His glare was steely, his gaze intense enough that, once again, your classmate seemed to change their mind about talking to you at all. The Gryffindor muttered a quiet apology and quickly returned to their seat.

You couldn’t help but cast a sidelong glance at Sunghoon, raising an eyebrow at his now placid expression. He noticed and merely gave a slight shrug, as if to say he hadn’t done a thing. It was infuriatingly typical of him, acting as if he hadn’t just sent two students retreating.

“What’s your problem?” you whispered, leaning in slightly.

Sunghoon’s smirk deepened. “No problem. Just keeping distractions to a minimum.”

You scoffed, your irritation clear, but deep down, a part of you wondered why he even cared.

But then Snape’s voice cut through the room, calling for silence, and you both snapped back to attention, the rivalry and tension settling between you once more.

As you walked out of the dungeon, feeling the cool stone hallway stretch out in front of you, you were met by two Gryffindor students waiting just outside. They exchanged a glance, visibly relieved as you approached, and one of them quickly stepped forward.

“Hey, Y/N,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “We were wondering if you could maybe tutor us in Potions? We’re both, uh… struggling with it, to say the least.”

His friend nodded, looking equally sheepish. “Yeah, we could really use the help.”

Before you could answer, though, you felt a presence at your side. Sunghoon had followed you out, his usual calm but intense demeanor practically radiating as he watched the two Gryffindors. His gaze hardened, and he didn’t waste a second before stepping between you and them.

“You two really have nothing better to do than pester her?” he asked, his tone dismissive, his glare enough to make them visibly uncomfortable.

The Gryffindors exchanged glances, shuffling back slightly, but they didn’t say anything. They seemed intimidated, but they didn’t seem like they were about to give up so easily. You sighed, shooting Sunghoon an exasperated look.

“Sunghoon, relax,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. You turned back to the two Gryffindors, who looked both embarrassed and desperate, and crossed your arms.

“Fine,” you told them, sighing. “Meet me in the library tomorrow. I’ll give you some pointers then.”

The two of them beamed, nodding quickly, and mumbled their thanks before heading off, leaving you alone with Sunghoon, who was still watching them as if they’d offended him personally.

As they turned the corner, Sunghoon glanced at you, a frown tugging at his lips. “You didn’t have to agree, you know,” he said, his tone more casual now, though there was still a trace of irritation. “They’re just looking for an easy answer.”

You gave him a look, shaking your head slightly. “Not everything is about competition, Sunghoon. Maybe they actually need help.”

He scoffed, a smirk curling at his lips. “Whatever you say. Are you coming, or are you too busy playing tutor?”

There was a brief moment of hesitation on your part. You hadn’t planned on sticking around with him after class, especially after his little standoff with your would-be students. But as his gaze settled on you, something about his expression—part expectant, part unreadable—made it hard to refuse.

With an exasperated roll of your eyes, you gave in. “Fine, lead the way.”

He smirked, clearly satisfied, and turned to walk down the hall. You fell into step beside him, the two of you moving together in silence.

Sunghoon led you through the winding corridors of Hogwarts, weaving up narrow staircases and into passages you were sure most students didn’t even know about. You were tempted to ask him what he was up to, but a strange, quiet curiosity kept you following him, even when you caught yourself glancing back, half-considering turning around. But you couldn’t deny your curiosity—and a reluctant trust in him, strange as it felt.

Finally, you reached a narrow staircase that led up to one of the less-frequented towers. “Here we are,” he said.

You stared at a latch, then at him. “What is this place?”

He didn’t answer immediately, instead climbing ahead of you, reaching up to open the concealed latch in the ceiling. With a glance down at you, he climbed up, disappearing through the opening.

You glanced around the empty hallway, biting your lip.

When he poked his head back down and raised an eyebrow. “Are you coming?” you sighed and climbed up after him, finding yourself in a tiny, dusty attic space. The room was cramped, with wooden beams crossing over the low ceiling and tiny, dusty windows letting in a dim glow. There wasn’t a sound in the air; no one ever came up here.

“What’s this about, Sunghoon?” you asked, crossing your arms, unable to keep a note of suspicion out of your voice. But he only smirked, taking your wrist and gently pulling you over to the corner of the room where a small wooden chest lay against the wall.

He lifted the lid, revealing a small creature nestled inside. You took a step closer, gasping softly as you recognized the little, dark-furred niffler, its leg twisted at an awkward angle, clearly hurt. You shot Sunghoon a surprised look, and he rubbed the back of his neck, almost sheepish.

“I, uh… I remembered you seemed to know a lot about magical creatures,” he said, his voice quieter, less sure than usual. “Saw it struggling outside the castle, and I thought… well, I figured you might know what to do with it.”

For a moment, you simply stared, taken aback by his unexpected gentleness. You knelt down beside the chest, assessing the niffler’s condition. “It looks like it twisted its leg pretty badly,” you murmured, brushing your fingers carefully over the creature’s fur as it whimpered, its small, dark eyes wide with trust and pain.

The niffler shivered, glancing up at you before letting out a soft chitter, its tiny paw reaching up to clutch your finger as you whispered calming words.

“It’s okay, little one,” you murmured, gently lifting the niffler into your arms. Sunghoon stepped back a little, allowing you space to work, and you couldn’t help but notice how quietly he was watching you, not saying a word.

You checked its leg, gently feeling around the injury. It wasn’t too severe, but it would need some attention. “The little guy will be okay. You just have to be careful with creatures like these—they can get skittish when they’re hurt.”

Sunghoon nodded, his gaze fixed on the niffler as you worked. You pulled out your wand, muttering the appropriate healing charms as you carefully mended its leg. The niffler let out a small chirp, its fur fluffing out in relief as it finally settled in your arms.

“You know,” Sunghoon said, breaking the silence, “I didn’t expect you to be so good with magical creatures.” You glanced up, meeting his gaze, which was unexpectedly warm, his usual guarded expression softened.

“Maybe there’s a lot you don’t know about me,” you replied, a teasing lilt to your voice.

Sunghoon smiled faintly, watching as you wrapped the niffler’s leg with careful precision, almost as if seeing you in a new light. “Guess I’ll just have to keep finding excuses to learn, then,” he said.

With a final wave of your wand, the niffler’s leg was mended. Almost immediately, the little creature perked up, chirping happily as if testing out its newfound mobility. A small smile tugged at your lips as the niffler wobbled in your lap, nudging your hand before, quick as a flash, its tiny paw darted toward the shiny badge pinned on your robes.

“Hey!” you laughed, reaching for the niffler as it tugged at your prefect badge, determined to add it to whatever imaginary hoard it was building in its mind.

Sunghoon chuckled from where he stood, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his gaze following the little creature’s antics. “Looks like it has a good eye for treasure,” he said, his tone playful. The niffler, clearly encouraged by his approval, squeaked and tugged harder, and you could only laugh as you tried to wrestle it gently away from your badge.

“Alright, alright, little troublemaker,” you said, scratching behind its ear, “I guess you’re all healed up.” The niffler chirped, clearly satisfied with itself, and settled back in your lap, peering up at you with big, curious eyes.

Sunghoon tilted his head, that faint smile still lingering. “You know, you have to name him now,” he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You raised an eyebrow, glancing down at the niffler. “Name him? Isn’t he a bit too… mischievous to settle for a name?” But as you looked into its wide, shining eyes, you felt a tug of fondness you couldn’t quite ignore.

Sunghoon shrugged, his tone a bit lighter than usual. “Well, you can’t just heal him and leave him unnamed. Plus, he’ll probably come back to find you if you give him a name.”

You bit back a smile, glancing at the niffler again. “Alright, fine.” After a moment’s thought, you looked back up at Sunghoon, the beginnings of an idea forming. “What about Spark? Since he’s so keen on shiny things.”

Sunghoon’s eyes crinkled slightly as he considered it. “Spark,” he echoed thoughtfully, and then nodded. “I like it. Seems fitting, for a niffler that’s already made it his mission to steal from a Hogwarts prefect.”

The niffler—now dubbed Spark—chirped in approval, as if satisfied with his new name. He scrambled back onto your lap, one paw still reaching toward your badge, his nose twitching.

As you watched Spark dart playfully around the room, you looked at Sunghoon and nodded toward the door. “We should probably take him to Hagrid. He’ll know how to take care of a niffler better than we can.”

Sunghoon nodded, and with a final scratch behind Spark’s ear, you tucked the little creature into the crook of your arm. As you and Sunghoon quietly made your way down the tower’s staircase and through the darkened hallways, Spark scampered excitedly between the two of you, chirping and squeaking in delight. Every now and then, he’d jump from your shoulder to Sunghoon’s, nuzzling close and tugging at a stray lock of his hair.

When you finally stepped out onto the moonlit grounds, Spark scrambled up Sunghoon’s arm and settled atop his head, tugging at the strands as if trying to style his hair. Sunghoon rolled his eyes but didn’t make any real effort to dislodge him.

As you arrived at Hagrid’s hut, Sunghoon reached up to knock on the door, but Spark clung stubbornly to his head, chirping with the excitement of a mischievous child. Hagrid’s warm, booming voice called from inside, and a moment later, he opened the door, his eyes lighting up when he saw the small creature atop Sunghoon’s head.

“What in Merlin’s beard… is that a niffler on yer head, Sunghoon?” Hagrid’s laughter was deep and genuine as he looked between the two of you.

You couldn’t help but laugh as well, reaching up to grab Spark gently from Sunghoon’s head. As you tugged the niffler free, you couldn’t help but notice the state of Sunghoon’s hair—it was thoroughly mussed, thanks to Spark’s playful grasping. “We found him hurt,” you explained to Hagrid as you cradled Spark, who snuggled into your arms with a satisfied chirp. “We patched him up a bit, but we figured he’d be in better hands with you. Could you take care of him?”

Hagrid’s face softened as he looked at Spark, his expression a mixture of fondness and excitement. “Course, I’ll look after the little rascal. Nifflers can be tricky, but they got good hearts.” Beside him, Fang barked happily, his tail thumping against the ground as he trotted up to you.

Grinning, you crouched down, running your hands through Fang’s thick fur as he nuzzled your hand. “Hey, Fang! Missed you too, big guy,” you murmured, scratching him behind the ears. Fang let out a pleased rumble, leaning into your touch.

As Hagrid took Spark from your hands, the niffler let out a mournful little chirp, his dark eyes fixed on you and Sunghoon as if he already missed you. Hagrid chuckled, petting Spark’s head. “Looks like he’s taken quite the likin’ to you two! I reckon he’ll be a handful. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure he’s well cared for.” With a wave, Hagrid gently closed the door, and you and Sunghoon turned back toward the castle.

Walking side by side through the quiet grounds, Sunghoon was still trying to tame his hair, grumbling softly as he ran his hands through it. Smiling, you reached out, gently pushing his hands away. “Let me,” you said softly, reaching up to smooth down his tousled locks.

Sunghoon was silent, watching you as you worked, and when you finally stepped back, satisfied, he looked at you with a softened expression. “Thanks,” he murmured, his voice unusually quiet, his gaze lingering on you just a little longer than usual.

You lowered your hand, feeling a bit self-conscious under his gaze, the gentle night air cool against your cheeks. “You’re welcome,” you replied, glancing away as a faint warmth crept up your neck.

For a few steps, the two of you walked in comfortable silence, the soft crunch of gravel beneath your feet the only sound. The castle loomed ahead, its towers silhouetted against the dark, star-strewn sky.

“You know,” Sunghoon finally spoke, his voice low but warm, “you didn’t have to help with Spark back there. Could’ve just let me figure it out on my own.”

You scoffed lightly, nudging him with your elbow. “Oh, please. You’d have probably spent half the night just trying to get him off your head,” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “Besides, I like helping out with creatures. It’s… peaceful.”

Sunghoon gave a soft chuckle, nodding. “Can’t argue with that. You’re a natural,” he added, the corner of his mouth lifting in a half-smile. “I’ve never seen you like that before.”

“Like what?” You turned your head to look at him, slightly caught off guard by his tone.

“Soft. I mean, not that you’re… not usually. Just… different,” he mumbled, running a hand over his head again, his gaze darting to the side as if searching for words. “Maybe it’s nice to see you care about something.”

A quiet chuckle escaped your lips as you shoved your hands into your pockets, your steps slowing. “I care about things. Just not usually things that… require all that much attention.”

Sunghoon stopped, turning toward you, his gaze intense yet gentle. “Well, it seems you’ve got another talent to add to the list,” he said quietly. “Even if I don’t see this… soft side very often.”

You could feel your face warm under his stare, an unspoken understanding passing between you. “Well, maybe I’ll show it a bit more… if you promise to keep your teasing to a minimum,” you countered, smiling slightly.

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Only some teasing,” he replied, but there was a warmth behind his usual smirk, a hint of something more.

As you reached the entrance to the castle, you both paused, lingering in the cool shadows of the towering walls. Neither of you seemed ready to break the quiet moment. Eventually, you took a breath, giving him a final look. “Goodnight, Sunghoon.”

He nodded, his eyes still on you. “Goodnight,” he replied softly.

The next day, the routine rivalry between you and Sunghoon was as intense as ever, starting with the very first class. Snape had just handed back a round of potion assignments, and as you flipped through your parchment, you smirked at the sight of your high score. But your satisfaction was short-lived; Sunghoon leaned back in his seat beside you, carelessly waving his own assignment in the air, flashing a score just a fraction higher than yours.

You shot him a look that was equal parts irritation and challenge. “I guess perfection just comes naturally to some,” he murmured, his smirk widening as he glanced at your page. You couldn’t stop your glare from hardening as you rolled your eyes and muttered under your breath.

Throughout the day, this pattern continued in every class. Whenever you scored higher, he’d fall silent, his eyes narrowed in a glare as he examined his own work with a slight pout. If he managed to get the higher score, you’d feel your face flush in annoyance, lips pressed into a thin line as you begrudgingly accepted the tiny triumph. Each question the teachers posed became a mini-battle between the two of you. If you answered first, Sunghoon would scoff and find some way to counter your response with an added detail or correction; if he answered first, you’d find a way to elaborate on it with an extra flourish.

Eventually, in Charms, your constant back-and-forth about the finer points of nonverbal spells escalated to a full-blown debate. You could feel the class’s eyes on you both as you threw arguments back and forth, neither willing to back down until the professor finally cut in, moving to the next topic with an exasperated sigh.

When classes finally ended, you found yourself surrounded by a few Gryffindor and Ravenclaw students, all hoping you’d tutor them in some area or another. But before any of them could get too close, Sunghoon would somehow find his way into the middle, stepping forward with a cool glare that would make them hesitate. Without even noticing his interference, you were too busy rambling to him about magical creatures, hardly noticing as students reluctantly slipped away.

“…And the phoenix? Did you know they have regeneration abilities not just for themselves but that their tears can heal practically anything? It’s almost like a superpower,” you said animatedly, your eyes lighting up as you explained.

Sunghoon’s small, genuine smile went unnoticed by you, his eyes studying your expressions as you spoke. “You know,” he said after a moment, “you really get lost when you’re talking about them.”

You shrugged, unfazed. “Why wouldn’t I? There’s so much to learn, so much to explore. Don’t you ever feel like that about anything?”

His smile grew softer, almost thoughtful. “Yeah… I think I do,” he said, not taking his eyes off you. But you were too caught up in your own excitement to notice the way he looked at you, as if he had found something worth exploring right here.

You barely noticed the way Sunghoon’s eyes softened as you went on about the different habitats of magical creatures, caught up in sharing the things you loved. He seemed entirely focused on you, even as the hallway grew emptier, his usual sharp edge melting into a quieter attentiveness that he rarely showed.

As you two walked, he seemed to subtly steer you, ensuring other students didn’t approach with requests or questions. The few who tried to interrupt received one of Sunghoon’s cool, silent glares, and it was enough to make them think twice. But his attention never wavered from you, and you barely noticed anyone else around.

“…So I’m hoping to go on expeditions one day,” you said with a small smile, glancing up at him as you walked. “I want to see these creatures in the wild and understand their behaviors.”

Sunghoon looked at you, his gaze warm yet intent. “You really mean that,” he murmured.

“Of course I do,” you replied, almost laughing. “I thought everyone knew that by now.”

His faint smile returned. “Maybe not everyone. But… I do.”

You blinked at the sudden seriousness in his tone, and for a moment, you were struck by the way he was looking at you—as if there was something he’d been meaning to say, something he was wrestling with. But as quickly as the moment surfaced, it was gone; he looked away, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Anyway,” he said, clearing his throat. “Guess I’ll have to find something just as impressive to match that.”

You rolled your eyes, scoffing. “Good luck with that. You’ll have to work a lot harder to keep up.”

A smirk flashed across his face. “Challenge accepted,” he said quietly.

--

As you sat with the two Gryffindor students in the quiet corner of the library, the sunlight filtering through the high windows, you felt a sense of satisfaction in guiding them through the complexities of potions. They were both scrambling to keep up, flipping pages in their textbooks and frantically jotting down notes as you explained each component's properties and how they interacted.

After a moment, you paused to ask a question, gesturing to the list of ingredients for the Draught of Peace. “Which ingredient in this potion helps to reduce anxiety but can cause drowsiness in high doses?”

One of the boys squinted at his notes before raising his hand tentatively. “Um… powdered moonstone?”

You nodded, a small smile crossing your lips. “Exactly. Well done.”

He grinned, looking quite pleased with himself, then gave his friend a smug slap on the shoulder. “See? Told you I was getting the hang of this,” he boasted, earning an eye-roll from his friend.

“Don’t get too cocky,” you warned, a teasing edge to your voice. “One right answer doesn’t make you a Potions Master.”

He chuckled sheepishly, but it was clear he was still basking in your praise.

As the lesson went on, you glanced up for a moment, and your eyes caught sight of a familiar figure leaning against the edge of a nearby shelf: Sunghoon. He was watching the entire scene with his usual unreadable expression, arms crossed and a subtle smirk on his face, as if he found the whole situation amusing.

Rolling your eyes, you turned your focus back to the Gryffindors, deciding to ignore him. But despite your best efforts, you couldn’t shake the awareness of his gaze. The two Gryffindors seemed completely oblivious to Sunghoon’s presence, but every now and then, you caught him subtly stepping closer, listening in.

Finally, you finished your explanations, assigning them a few practice problems to work on in their own time. They thanked you, relief written on their faces as they gathered their things to leave.

As they left, Sunghoon sauntered over, raising an eyebrow at you. “You seem awfully generous with praise,” he remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Oh, don’t start,” you replied, rolling your eyes again as you closed your textbook. “I’m just trying to help them pass Potions. They don’t have to be my rivals.”

“Lucky for them,” he said, chuckling softly. Then he leaned in slightly, his voice lowering, “But I’d like to think I’m the only one who gets to compete with you.”

You rolled your eyes and pulled out a worn notebook and a slightly tattered copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander from your bag, flipping to a page you had been absorbed in earlier. Your notes were meticulous and precise, with a small sketch of a selkie in the margin, its sleek form and dark eyes captured with surprising detail.

Sunghoon noticed immediately, his gaze drifting to the open book and your notes. He shifted his chair a little closer, leaning in to get a better look. "What’s all this?" he asked, clearly intrigued.

“Oh, just some of my own notes,” you replied casually, though you couldn’t deny the flicker of excitement at the chance to explain. “I’m copying parts of the book, adding some of my observations. See—” You pointed to a note on selkies. “These markings here help them blend in with the seaweed, which makes them nearly invisible in shallow waters. Clever, right?”

Sunghoon nodded, and you could see the interest in his expression as he continued to study the page. Emboldened, you moved on, “And this—” you pointed to another entry, flipping a few pages to a section on kelpies. “If you ever encounter a kelpie, you should look out for water plants on its back; they often disguise themselves as beautiful horses near the shore to lure people into the water.”

“Or here, in this section on Acromantulas,” you continued, your excitement getting the better of you. “If you ever come across an Acromantula lair, the air will feel damp and oddly warm, almost like a warning. They leave webs that catch the light differently than normal spider webs—they’re shinier, with a silver tint.”

Sunghoon’s smirk softened, replaced by something you couldn’t quite place. “You really know your stuff,” he said softly, the admiration clear in his voice.

You glanced away, suddenly a little self-conscious under his gaze. “I just… really like learning about magical creatures,” you admitted with a shrug. “I think they’re fascinating.”

Sunghoon let out a low chuckle. “I think you’re fascinating,” he murmured, almost too quietly for you to hear.

You paused, heart skipping a beat as you processed his words. But before you could respond, he cleared his throat, his expression unreadable once more as he reached for your book. “So… what else should I know about magical creatures, in case we run into one?”

You grinned and continued explaining each creature with passion and detail, and he listened, seemingly content just to sit there, absorbed in every word you said.

You lost track of time as you continued sharing each creature’s traits, fully immersed in the world of magical beasts and their quirks. You explained to Sunghoon how to spot a bowtruckle in the trees, the difference between a griffin’s call and a hippogriff’s, and why nifflers are drawn to sparkly objects. With every fact you shared, his eyes never left your face.

After a while, you realized just how close he’d inched toward you. There was hardly any space between you now, and you were all too aware of his gaze tracing the slope of your nose, the curve of your mouth as you spoke. It was almost unnerving, and for the first time, you found yourself stumbling over your words.

When you paused to catch your breath, Sunghoon broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone talk about magical creatures like that before.”

His words caught you off guard, and you felt warmth creeping into your cheeks. “There’s so much out there we don’t understand. I think that’s the best part—the mystery of it all.” You murmured, glancing down at your notebook.

Sunghoon leaned back in his chair, thoughtful. “Maybe that’s why I’ve always thought you’re different from everyone else.” He looked down, almost shyly, as if he hadn’t meant to let that slip.

You blinked, surprised. "Different?"

“Yeah,” he replied, finally meeting your gaze again. “You’re… genuine. Like, you actually care about the things that matter. You don’t just do things because it’s expected, or because someone told you to. You’re… well, it’s hard to explain.” He shrugged, visibly frustrated, and let out a small, self-deprecating chuckle.

You blinked, trying to make sense of what Sunghoon had just said, of the quiet vulnerability in his words. “I… didn’t realize you thought about things like that,” you replied, your voice softer than you’d meant it to be.

But Sunghoon’s momentary openness seemed to vanish as soon as the words left your mouth. His eyes widened slightly, and he immediately turned away, his expression twisting into a frown. "I don’t know why I even—”

Before he could finish, he stood up abruptly, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. You barely had time to react as he took a few steps back, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like “beautiful eyes” under his breath, though you couldn’t be sure. Then, without looking back, he turned on his heel and strode out of the library, leaving you staring after him, stunned.

You sat there, watching the tall silhouette of his figure disappear through the doorway, a thousand questions spinning through your mind.

Madam Pince’s voice snapped you out of your daze. She had quietly approached, tidying up the stray books the Gryffindor students had left behind. “It doesn’t take much to see he likes you,” she said, her tone somewhere between amused and exasperated.

Your head whipped around to face her, eyes wide. “Wait—what?”

She glanced at you over the rim of her spectacles, raising an eyebrow as she gathered a stack of books. “Oh, come on. That boy didn’t take his eyes off you for a second. He barely even noticed anyone else in the room.” She shook her head, a soft chuckle escaping her. “If he could, I swear he’d have hearts in his eyes. Quite the smitten one, that Sunghoon.”

You felt your face heat up. “I—no, that can’t be.”

Madam Pince gave a noncommittal hum, but her eyes sparkled with something like knowing. “I’ve seen plenty of students in here studying. There’s something different about him.”

ou couldn’t shake the image of Sunghoon’s gaze lingering on you, softer than you’d ever seen it, and the way he’d fumbled over his own words like he didn’t know what to do with them.

“Maybe it’s just the way he looks at you,” Madam Pince added as she placed the last book on the shelf. “You’d think he’s looking at his entire world.”

You felt your breath catch, her words lingering long after you left the library.

The next day, you found yourself standing in the hallway before Charms class, nervously glancing at Wooyoung. You’d practically dragged him here to talk about Sunghoon, though you weren’t entirely sure what you wanted to ask or how to approach him.

“Come on, Wooyoung, you have to help me figure this out,” you said, your voice a little more frantic than you intended. “Do you think… do you think he likes me?”

Wooyoung, leaning casually against the wall, smiled so wide that his grin nearly split his face. There was a gleam in his eyes—one that you knew all too well. The one he always wore when he had some mischievous plan brewing.

“Like you?” he echoed, raising an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t he? You two are practically a walking cliché. The constant competition, the way you both try to one-up each other… It’s as obvious as your latest Transfiguration assignment.”

You frowned, unsure of where he was going with this. “I—what do you mean by that?”

Wooyoung pushed off the wall, standing up straighter. His smile grew wider, and you immediately recognized that look. The one that meant he’d just come up with something ridiculous, probably to your detriment. “Why don’t you make him show it? Get him to prove he likes you.”

You stared at him, blinking in disbelief. “What? How am I supposed to do that?”

He sighed dramatically, as though you’d just asked him a question that was too easy to answer. “It’s simple. Make him jealous using me,” Wooyoung replied, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Your eyes widened. “Wait, what? You want me to pretend to like you to make Sunghoon jealous?”

“Exactly!” Wooyoung grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “And don’t worry. I’ll even be the test bunny —free of charge. I’ll stick close to you, spend all the time I can with you, and make it look like I’m all about you. Trust me, Sunghoon will get the message real quick.”

You hesitated, worried. “I don’t know, Wooyoung. This seems like a bad idea.”

He groaned in exasperation, rolling his eyes. “How can someone so smart be so clueless? It’s not like you have to actually date me or anything. Besides, you’re not even doing anything bad, just hanging out with your best friend Wooyoung. You’ll see what happens. Just wait until Sunghoon realizes what’s going on. If he likes you, he’ll show it.”

You bit your lip, not entirely convinced. The idea made you uneasy, but Wooyoung was already grabbing your arm, pulling you towards the classroom. “Come on. You can overthink it later. Let’s go.”

Reluctantly, you allowed yourself to be pulled into class, the moment you found your seat, you looked around, half-expecting to see Sunghoon. When he walked into class, you saw him immediately—tall and confident, his usual smirk in place. But as soon as his eyes landed on you, sitting next to Wooyoung, his entire demeanor shifted. His eyes narrowed, and his brow furrowed.

You felt your stomach flip when Sunghoon stalked over, crossing his arms.

“You’re in my seat,” Sunghoon said, his voice cold as his eyes locked onto Wooyoung.

Wooyoung, not missing a beat, tilted his head back and looked at Sunghoon with a smug expression. “I don’t see your name here,” he teased, his voice playful, almost sing-song. He then dramatically pulled you closer to him, as though to stake his claim. “Besides, I’m sitting here now.”

You shot Wooyoung a look, but he was already enjoying this far too much. You glanced back at Sunghoon, who was glaring at Wooyoung with a look that could have burned a hole through him, his jaw clenched, his lips pressed into a thin line. But when Sunghoon looked at you, his eyes softened just a little—though the frown still remained. He sighed in frustration before walking off, clearly not wanting to make a scene.

His eyes then locked onto the desk directly in front of you, where a Ravenclaw student had been sitting just moments ago, quietly taking notes. Without so much as a glance toward you or Wooyoung, Sunghoon walked up to the desk with a purposeful stride.

The Ravenclaw, a young girl with glasses perched on the edge of her nose, looked up in mild surprise as Sunghoon approached her. She was about to ask if something was wrong when he stood before her, towering slightly as he looked down at her desk with an unwavering gaze.

“Move,” he said simply, his voice low and calm, but there was an unspoken authority in it. It wasn’t a question, and there was no room for negotiation in his tone.

The Ravenclaw blinked, unsure of what was happening. “Excuse me?” she asked, her voice a little shaky.

Sunghoon’s expression remained neutral. “I’m sitting here,” he repeated, and he placed his bag down on the desk, almost as though he were claiming it.

The girl hesitated, glancing at the seat next to yours where Wooyoung sat, clearly not understanding the situation. She looked at the empty seats around the room, trying to figure out what to do.

“You can find another seat,” Sunghoon added coolly, his gaze unflinching. “It’s not a big deal.”

The Ravenclaw swallowed hard, her face flushing with confusion and embarrassment. She had no idea what was happening. Was this some sort of joke? Was she supposed to just give up her seat because Sunghoon wanted it? She opened her mouth to protest again, but before she could speak, she caught the look in Sunghoon’s eyes—cold, almost daring her to defy him.

“Okay,” she muttered, gathering her things and standing up, clearly unnerved by the tension in the air. Reluctantly, she grabbed her bag, and with a small, defeated sigh, she walked toward a different desk, clearly trying to avoid further confrontation.

You watched the scene unfold with a mix of surprise and discomfort, and you could see Wooyoung beside you, clearly amused by the whole thing. Sunghoon didn’t even spare a glance at the girl as she moved to another desk. He simply adjusted his books, and slid into the chair with a casual ease.

Wooyoung chuckled under his breath as class started, nudging you with an exaggerated wink. “Worked like a charm,” he whispered, grinning.

As Professor Flitwick began the lecture, Wooyoung scribbled something on a scrap of parchment and nudged it toward you, his grin widening when you glanced down.

“I’d say Sunghoon looks about two seconds away from hexing me,” he’d scrawled, complete with a little doodle of a scowling Sunghoon.

You smirked, scribbling back, “More like two seconds from snapping his quill in half.”

Wooyoung had to stifle his laugh, glancing up to make sure Flitwick wasn’t watching. Meanwhile, Sunghoon sat in front of you, stiff and silent, answering Professor Flitwick’s questions with uncharacteristic quietness. Normally, this was the part of the lesson where you’d challenge him, but you were too busy passing notes and snickering quietly with Wooyoung.

Meanwhile, Sunghoon, seemed quieter than usual. It was obvious to you that he wasn’t paying much attention to the lesson now—his usually sharp focus shifted entirely to the students around him. You caught the way he glanced up when another student raised their hand, trying to challenge him. They asked a particularly tricky question about the correct incantation for a charm, but when Sunghoon answered smoothly, there was no cocky attitude, no smug smirk. He answered matter-of-factly, almost quietly, and then fell back into his seat, looking down at his parchment with furrowed brows.

Other students tried to challenge him, pushing for more details, but Sunghoon didn’t rise to the occasion like he usually did with you. He remained reserved, answering them simply and without the usual bite in his voice.

And you couldn’t help but wonder if this was all connected to the game you and Wooyoung had started—testing Sunghoon's reactions, seeing how far you could push him. You watched him for a few more moments, noting how his posture stiffened slightly whenever someone questioned him. It was like he was waiting for something—waiting for you to throw a comment or a challenge his way. But you stayed quiet, not offering him the usual banter or playful disagreement.

Wooyoung passed you another note, his handwriting messier this time from his suppressed laughter. “Guess he only cares if it’s you arguing with him.”

As soon as Professor Flitwick dismissed the class, you barely had a second to pack up your things before Wooyoung seized your arm, yanking you up from your seat and ushering you toward the door with hurried enthusiasm.

“Come on, come on!” he whispered, grinning as he practically dragged you through the aisle, weaving between students as they gathered their things.

You stumbled slightly, barely managing to throw your bag over your shoulder as Wooyoung tugged you along, his grip firm as he steered you toward the corridor. Behind you, you caught a quick glimpse of Sunghoon, his expression darkening as he watched Wooyoung pull you away.

“Wooyoung, slow down!” you protested, trying to keep from tripping as he continued his brisk pace down the hallway. You glanced back, half-expecting Sunghoon to be right behind you, but the corridor was empty, and you couldn’t help but feel a small twinge of disappointment that he hadn’t followed.

Wooyoung just laughed, his mischief only growing as he finally slowed down, his grip loosening as he threw you a victorious smile. “Did you see his face? He was practically glaring daggers at me!”

You rolled your eyes, brushing your hair out of your face as you tried to catch your breath. “You’re going to drive him crazy at this rate. What if he actually loses it?”

Wooyoung smirked, shrugging as if it was no big deal. “Isn’t that the plan? You’ll know for sure if he really likes you.” He wagged his eyebrows at you playfully, nudging you with his shoulder. “Besides, I’ve never seen him that riled up over anything—or anyone, for that matter. And if he’s jealous, it’s because he knows he’s got competition.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but Wooyoung was already shooting you a smug grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he glanced over his shoulder, making sure Sunghoon hadn’t caught up to you. You hated to admit it, but a part of you couldn’t help but feel a bit giddy at the thought of getting under Sunghoon’s skin, especially after all the times he’d done the same to you.

Wooyoung didn't hold back over the next few days, sticking by your side at every opportunity, always there with that trademark mischievous grin. He’d slide into the seat beside you during classes, insist on walking you to the Great Hall for meals, and show up at the library to “help” you study—even if he spent more time drawing little doodles on your notes than actually being helpful.

You caught Sunghoon watching the two of you on more than one occasion, his gaze dark and intense, lips pressed into a firm line as Wooyoung leaned close to whisper something that would make you laugh. The frustration on Sunghoon’s face was unmistakable, but he never said anything. He would just look away with a huff, his jaw clenched as he turned his attention back to whatever was in front of him.

During Potions, Wooyoung made a particularly bold move, sliding his chair so close to yours that your shoulders brushed as you worked on a shared project. Sunghoon, who sat across from you, glared at Wooyoung with such ferocity that you were sure he’d burst.

“Are you two always this… close?” Sunghoon finally muttered, barely hiding the edge in his voice.

Wooyoung looked up with an innocent smile, putting an arm over your shoulder with exaggerated nonchalance. “Oh, absolutely. I’m just here to make sure no one distracts her from her studies,” he said with a wink in your direction.

You bit back a laugh as Sunghoon’s expression turned sour, his fingers tapping agitatedly against the desk.

As the days went on, Sunghoon’s patience seemed to fray bit by bit, his usual calm demeanor replaced by a simmering frustration. You could see it in the way he clenched his fists whenever he saw you with Wooyoung, how he’d roll his eyes when he overheard Wooyoung laughing with you in the library. He even began answering questions more aggressively in class, as though trying to reclaim some attention.

One evening, when Wooyoung had just pulled you out of the library after an impromptu “study session,” you spotted Sunghoon watching you from across the corridor, his expression dark. Wooyoung followed your gaze and smirked, leaning down to whisper, “I think he’s finally reaching his limit. Just wait—he’ll crack any day now.”

--

You were sat in the courtyard, finally getting a moment to study in peace with Wooyoung serving detention, a shadow fell over your books. You looked up, blinking as Sunghoon stood there, hands shoved in his pockets, an intense look in his eyes.

“Studying alone for once?” he asked, his voice casual, but the edge in it unmistakable.

You gave him a small shrug, trying to appear unfazed. “Yeah, Wooyoung’s busy.”

Sunghoon sat down across from you without asking, his gaze flickering over your books before settling on you. “So, you and Wooyoung… you’ve known each other for a while, huh?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant but clearly fishing for something.

You raised an eyebrow, sensing where this was going. “We’re good friends,” you replied simply. “We’ve known each other since second year.”

Sunghoon’s brows knit together, curiosity—and maybe a hint of jealousy—lingering in his expression. “How did that even happen? You two don’t seem like the most… obvious match.”

You laughed a little at the memory. “Oh, it was something, alright. I found him running from Filch after he’d set off one of those cursed prank fireworks. He practically begged me to hide him, so I did. After that, we just… clicked, I guess. I’d cover for him, and he’d keep me entertained with his ridiculous schemes.”

Sunghoon nodded, a faint smirk appearing on his lips. “So you’re telling me you’ve been cleaning up his messes for years.”

You laughed. “Pretty much.”

For a moment, Sunghoon seemed lost in thought, a silence settling between you as he absorbed what you’d shared. He looked down at the book open in front of you—a piece on mythical creatures.

“Sounds like you’re a better friend than he deserves,” he muttered, his voice barely loud enough to hear. And then, without waiting for your reaction, he quickly added, “But maybe you’re just too kind. I doubt you’d turn away anyone if they asked for help.” He leaned forward, arms crossed and a curious look on his face, as if he were ready to seize this moment and talk about anything—everything, even.

“So… this whole mythical creatures thing,” he began, nodding toward the book in front of you. “It’s what you want to do after school, right?”

You hesitated, but then you looked up and caught the way Sunghoon’s gaze softened as he waited for you to answer. There was no trace of his usual smirk or sarcastic tone; he just looked genuinely… interested. Almost desperate to keep this conversation going, like he needed to talk to you, even if it was about the most random thing he could think of.

Letting out a quiet sigh, you nodded. “Yeah… I guess I want to travel, see the world, learn about different creatures out there.”

Sunghoon nodded slowly, eyes never leaving yours. “Makes sense for you.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “What about you, Sunghoon? What do you want to do?”

He ran a hand through his hair, looking slightly awkward as he considered his answer. “Me? Well… my family expects me to follow in their footsteps and work in the Ministry. Some important role that’ll keep the Park name respectable or whatever.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised at how openly he was talking about it. “And… is that what you want?”

He hesitated, glancing away briefly before meeting your eyes again. “Honestly? No. But it’s not like I get much say in it. My parents… they don’t really ask what I want. They just have this… plan. And I’m supposed to go along with it.”

You softened, forgetting all about Wooyoung’s plan. “Maybe one day, you’ll get to do what you actually want. Even if it means disappointing a few people along the way.”

Sunghoon’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Maybe.”

While you and Sunghoon continued your conversation, Wooyoung burst onto the scene, looking a bit disheveled from detention.

"Hey! You promised you’d help me with Astronomy, remember?" he announced, hands on his hips as he gestured toward the library.

You blinked, taken aback. “Did I? I don’t remember promising that, Woo—”

But Wooyoung wasn’t giving you a moment to think. He sidled up to you, giving Sunghoon a mischievous side-eye as he tried to usher you away. That was, until Sunghoon suddenly stood up with startling speed.

“Actually, we’ll both help you,” he said firmly, his voice determined, like he was making a declaration. He looked between you and Wooyoung, and you couldn’t hide your surprise. Sunghoon had never offered to tutor anyone, much less help anyone study.

Wooyoung faltered for a moment, his usual quick wit momentarily stunned. “Wait, you want to help? Since when does Sunghoon Park volunteer to help anyone?” he stammered, clearly thrown off his game.

Without missing a beat, Sunghoon reached out, grabbing your hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and gently pulled you along. He positioned himself slightly in front of you, blocking Wooyoung’s view just enough to hold your attention. His touch was firm, warm, and you could feel the faintest bit of tension in his grip, as though he was reluctant to let you go.

“Come on,” he said, glancing back at you, eyes lit with determination.

You barely had time to process the boldness of his move, your heart beating a little faster at the intensity in his gaze. But then, from behind you, Wooyoung snapped out of his daze.

“Hey! Don’t leave me!” he shouted, sprinting forward to catch up.

Once inside the library, Sunghoon led you to a secluded corner, where the stacks of books created a quiet, private nook. He settled down across from you, pulling out his Astronomy textbook and parchment without a word. You followed suit, just as Wooyoung stumbled in, slightly out of breath and muttering curses under his breath.

"Merlin, Sunghoon, did you have to practically run here? Not all of us have legs that belong on a Quidditch team,” Wooyoung huffed, plopping down in the remaining seat and tossing his Astronomy books onto the table.

You chuckled softly, but Sunghoon didn’t seem to notice. He had already opened his book and was flipping to a relevant chapter, his eyes scanning the page with a quiet focus. The three of you settled in, and soon, you began explaining the constellations and how to identify them, taking a parchment to map out a few diagrams for Wooyoung.

Sunghoon added an occasional word here and there, though you quickly noticed his advice was always directed toward you, not Wooyoung. It was as if he couldn’t be bothered to look at Wooyoung directly, instead choosing to watch you as you spoke. Every so often, he'd chime in at the end of your explanations, repeating or affirming your words like a quiet echo.

"Right," you’d say, finishing up a description of Orion. “That’s why its belt is so distinctive in the night sky.”

"Distinctive,” Sunghoon murmured, nodding slightly as he watched you, his gaze steady.

Wooyoung, however, wasn’t about to let this slide. He shot you a look of exaggerated exasperation, rolling his eyes playfully as Sunghoon added yet another short agreement after your sentence.

“If I’d known studying with the both of you would be this one-sided, I’d have just gone to Hagrid’s for a simpler lecture,” Wooyoung quipped, pretending to grumble. He shot you a grin. “You’re doing all the heavy lifting here. Sunghoon’s just admiring the view.”

You stifled a laugh, glancing at Sunghoon, who simply shrugged and looked away, not even trying to deny it. A faint blush had crept up his cheeks, but he kept his gaze on his notes, acting unbothered as he continued to jot things down.

The table fell quiet for a moment, the only sounds being the rustling of pages and the scratching of quills. Sunghoon had finally turned his attention to his notes, his posture still stiff and focused, while Wooyoung, sitting across from you, began to plot. You could feel the mischievous glint in his eyes as he glanced between you and Sunghoon, an idea forming behind that grin of his. You knew that grin well—it was the kind of grin that spelled out nothing good.

And then, as if on cue, Wooyoung shifted in his seat, straightened up, and suddenly leaned forward, all casual-like.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice loud enough to carry across the quiet library. “Do you ever wonder what it would be like if Sunghoon here actually smiled when he helped us study? You know, like… with an actual expression, not just his usual ‘I’m-too-cool-for-this’ face?”

You shot him a look, one that made it clear you were aware of what he was doing. You opened your mouth to say something, but Wooyoung was already going for it. He nudged your elbow gently with his, a silent request for backup.

“I mean,” he continued, his voice deliberately drawing out the words, “I bet you could teach him a thing or two about showing some emotion, right? I’ve seen you make him smile once in a while. That’s kind of impressive, considering, you know… he usually doesn't even seem to know how to have fun. Maybe you should be his personal tutor on that.”

You suppressed a laugh, but it was difficult to stop your lips from twitching. Sunghoon, however, didn’t react at first. He kept his eyes on the page in front of him, though the muscles in his jaw twitched slightly, and his posture tightened.

Wooyoung wasn’t done. No, he was just getting started. He leaned back in his chair, completely at ease, as if he were speaking casually about the weather.

“So,” he said with a sly grin, “Sunghoon, what's it like, huh? Sitting here and being the epitome of cool? Don’t you get bored sometimes?” He leaned forward, directing his question to Sunghoon directly now. “You ever get jealous? Like when Y/N and I hang out and I make her laugh, but you can’t seem to do the same? Maybe you could learn something from me after all. You know, how to crack a joke here and there. It’d be a good change of pace for you.”

Your eyes widened, realizing the full extent of Wooyoung’s plan. He was making you the center of attention, and Sunghoon was stuck right in front of you, getting teased in a way that was bound to rattle him.

For a moment, it seemed like Sunghoon was going to retort, but then something changed. He looked at you briefly, his expression unreadable, before his gaze flicked back to his notes.

“I don’t need to crack jokes to be effective,” he muttered, the words clipped and sharp, though there was a distinct edge to them. “But you do seem to have a talent for making everything an entertainment show.”

Wooyoung’s grin only widened at the jab. "Well, someone’s gotta keep things interesting."

You were trying so hard not to laugh, your hand pressed against your lips to stifle the giggles. You could tell that Wooyoung was enjoying to push Sunghoon’s buttons, waiting for him to bite, and it was hard to ignore how Sunghoon seemed to slowly crack under the pressure.

Finally, you couldn’t keep it in anymore. You let out a soft laugh, looking at Sunghoon with a teasing smile. “You’re not gonna let Wooyoung get to you, are you?”

Sunghoon paused, his eyes flickering to you, he exhaled, almost like a sigh, and then said, with a quiet edge, “I’ve got more important things to focus on than whatever this is.”

Madam Pince appeared just as you were trying to suppress the last of your laughter, her stern eyes scanning the room. She spotted you from across the library and made her way over, her expression softening a little when she saw you sitting with Sunghoon and Wooyoung.

"Ah, Y/N," she said in her usual clipped tone. "I’m in need of some assistance. There’s a book missing, and you seem to be one of the few students who knows this library well enough to help me track it down."

You nodded quickly, grateful for the excuse to step away from the tension growing between Sunghoon and Wooyoung. "Of course, Madam Pince. I'll help you find it."

You were prepared to leave, but before you did, you leaned closer to Wooyoung, who was still watching Sunghoon, his expression one of quiet amusement.

“Play fair, Wooyoung,” you whispered, just loud enough for him to hear but soft enough that Sunghoon wouldn’t catch on.

Wooyoung gave you a wide, mischievous grin, his eyes twinkling with the hint of something else—perhaps a little bit of challenge. "You got it, Y/N," he whispered back, his voice teasing.

Then, you turned to Sunghoon, who had been unusually quiet, his eyes focused on his notes but his body language still tight. You weren’t sure if he was just avoiding Wooyoung’s teasing or if there was something else on his mind.

Leaning in slightly, you whispered to him, just as softly as you had to Wooyoung, “Go easy on Wooyoung, alright?”

Sunghoon didn’t immediately respond, but you could see his eyes flicker with a slight surprise. He gave a quick, almost imperceptible nod, though his lips remained pressed together in that tight line he often wore when he wasn’t sure how to express himself.

"Fine," he muttered, his tone as close to a concession as you’d get from him.

With that, you excused yourself from the table, gathering your bag and walking away with Madam Pince, who seemed to appreciate the extra pair of hands.

--

You handed Madam Pince the book when you found it, her lips curling into a small, appreciative smile. "Thank you, Y/N. You’re always so helpful," she said, before disappearing behind a shelf to return the book to its rightful place.

Once that was done, you made your way back to the table where you’d left Sunghoon and Wooyoung. But when you walked up, you noticed that only Sunghoon remained, his focus still on his notes, though he didn’t seem as intense as he had been earlier. His shoulders were slightly hunched over, his quill scratching across the parchment in front of him.

"Where’d Wooyoung go?" you asked, your voice light but curious.

Sunghoon didn’t look up at first, continuing to write something down before responding. "He got too bored and decided to leave. Probably off causing trouble somewhere," he said, his voice flat.

You sighed, shaking your head. "I should've known. He's always up to something."

Sunghoon just shrugged and went back to his work, not saying anything more.

After some time, Sunghoon glanced up from his notes and reached for one of the books you had both been reading. He scanned a passage, muttering something under his breath before looking at you again.

"Here’s a question," he said, reading aloud. "What do you think is the primary trait that allows a Thestral to remain undetected by most students?" He paused for a moment, his eyes locking with yours. "I think it's their ability to be invisible to those who haven't experienced death. What would you add to that?"

You thought for a second. "I would add that they also have an inherent ability to sense the emotions of others, which could explain why they only reveal themselves to people who have truly understood loss. It’s not just physical invisibility, it’s emotional, too."

Sunghoon nodded thoughtfully, a small smile playing at his lips. "I like that. You’ve got a good point."

As you both continued discussing the finer details of Thestrals, your chairs inched closer and closer without either of you noticing. At first, it was just a subtle shift in the way you both sat, both leaning in a little to be closer to the books and each other’s notes. But soon, you were sitting shoulder to shoulder, the space between you so small it almost didn’t matter anymore.

You could feel the warmth of his shoulder brushing against yours, a strange sense of familiarity in the way you both fit together in that moment. And when he passed you a book, his hand brushing yours in the process, neither of you pulled away.

The air between you both seemed to shift, subtle yet undeniable. Time seemed to slow for a moment, and you couldn't help but notice the brief flicker in Sunghoon's eyes—like he was aware of the closeness, of the sudden tension that hadn't been there before.

You both locked eyes, your gazes lingering a little longer than they should have. Then, just as quickly, his gaze dropped to your lips, and you felt a slight shift in your chest. You instinctively licked your lips, a nervous habit, and when you did, Sunghoon's gaze followed the motion, his eyes following the path of your tongue. You could almost feel the shift in his focus as he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. You felt a rush of heat flood your cheeks at the realization that he had caught it, that he had been watching you so intently.

You gave him a soft smile, just a hint of amusement in your expression, before you quickly looked back down at your notes, trying to regain your composure.

Sunghoon, as if breaking free from whatever spell had taken hold of him, seemed to blink and shake himself out of his trance. His gaze shifted back to his notes, though there was a slight tightness in his jaw that hadn't been there before. He cleared his throat, trying to regain his usual collected demeanor.

"Right," he muttered, focusing on the book in front of him as though it was the most interesting thing in the room.

Your hand, poised over your quill, hesitated for a moment, as if unsure of what to write next. Your thoughts were scattered now—your mind buzzing with a thousand things, none of them having to do with the notes in front of you. You focused on the lines, the words, the shapes of the ink on the page, but it was a challenge. Everything felt so much more present now.

The night had stretched on without either of you noticing. The quiet between you had been comfortable, filled with soft whispers of pages turning and the faint scratch of quills on paper. When you finally stood, stretching your stiff limbs, the weight of the evening pressed down on you. Sunghoon, still by your side, packed his books slowly, as if reluctant to leave.

You both stepped out of the library together, the cool night air hitting you with the suddenness of it, making you shiver slightly. Sunghoon, as usual, was a step ahead of you, walking with that calm, collected air he always carried.

As the doors to the library clicked shut behind you, the portraits along the hallways seemed to come alive, their eyes following you both as you walked. Your eyes flicked over the various faces, and then you noticed a particular painting—two lovers standing close, gazing at each other with love. The two figures in the painting seemed to smirk at you, their eyes sparkling with mischievous intent.

A wave of warmth spread over you, and before you could even think, your face flushed, the embarrassment catching you off guard. You quickly looked away, focusing on the stone floor beneath your feet, trying to hide your blush. That’s when your gaze inadvertently lifted up, and you found yourself looking at Sunghoon.

You hadn’t meant to stare, but you couldn’t help it. His side profile was so striking, every feature seeming perfectly sculpted in the low light of the hallway. His sharp jawline was defined, the angle of it so perfect it almost looked like something out of a painting itself. His nose—straight and sharp—seemed to fit his face so well. You could see the faint moles on his skin, scattered along his otherwise perfect pale skin. His dark hair, messy but somehow perfect, fell effortlessly over his forehead, and the way it framed his face made everything about him seem even more… intense.

But it was his eyes that captivated you the most. Even though he wasn’t looking directly at you, you could feel them—those eyes that were usually so guarded, now more thoughtful.

When you reached the entrance to your common room, you stopped, both of you hesitant for just a second. The words you wanted to say stuck in your throat, you looked up at him again, your gaze lingering on his face.

“Thanks for walking me back,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sunghoon nodded, and for a moment, neither of you moved. He hesitated before giving you a small, almost imperceptible smile.

“Anytime,” he replied, his voice softer than usual, almost unsure.

--

You tossed and turned in your bed, the sheets tangled around your legs, the restless whispers of your bedmates’ snores filling the silence of the dormitory. Despite the rhythmic sound of their breathing, it only seemed to make everything feel more stifling. The night stretched on far too long, the weight of your thoughts keeping you wide awake. No matter how you shifted, how many times you tried to find a comfortable position, sleep refused to come.

It was late. Too late. You should be asleep, but every time you closed your eyes, the thoughts came back, chasing you into a wakefulness that felt almost unbearable. You groaned softly, rubbing your face with both hands.

Sighing in frustration, you finally gave up. With a groan, you sat up, blinking in the dim light that filtered in from the window. You glanced around at your sleeping bedmates, none of them aware of your restlessness. The soft, sleepy murmurs of their dreams only made the weight of your own thoughts feel heavier. You needed to get out.

Quietly, you slipped your legs off the bed and padded across the floor in your slippers. You grabbed your jacket from the back of your chair and threw it on over your pyjamas, the fabric slightly chilly against your skin. Your wand was a comforting weight in your hand as you whispered the slightest incantation under your breath. The quiet "Lumos" from your wand’s tip provided a faint light, just enough to guide your way.

The corridors of Hogwarts were eerily quiet, bathed in shadow, save for the faint glow of your wand. You moved carefully, keeping your footsteps light, aware of the potential danger of being caught. You didn’t want to risk Filch or Mrs. Norris spotting you, so you kept your senses heightened. If you saw anyone, you'd be ready to cast the Disillusionment Charm in an instant, blending into the shadows before they could even register your presence.

Before long, you reached your destination—the Astronomy Tower. You could already feel the calming presence of the stars, even from the base of the tower. You hurried up the winding stairs, each step taking you closer to the quiet peace of the tower. Your breath quickened as you climbed. When you reached the top, you pushed open the door to the tower and stepped out into the cool night air.

The stars twinkled above you, scattered across the sky like diamonds scattered on velvet. The moon hung high and bright, casting a silvery glow over the castle. The familiar peace settled over you, the noise in your head beginning to fade as you stood there, gazing out at the endless night.

As you stood there in the quiet, the faint shuffle of footsteps behind you pulled your attention away from the stars. You instinctively gripped your wand, the spell already forming in your mind, but before you could cast it, a familiar voice rang out, low and quiet, but unmistakable.

“Well, well, didn’t expect to see you here.”

You turned quickly, your heart racing, and found Sunghoon standing just a few feet away. His presence felt like a sudden shift in the air, his gaze fixed on you, unreadable yet steady. A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at his lips.

“What are you doing here?” You tried to sound casual, but your pulse quickened. You had been hoping for solitude, not the unexpected company of someone who seemed to occupy so much space in your mind lately.

Sunghoon tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing in that way that made you feel as though he was always observing, always calculating. “Same reason as you, I suspect. Couldn’t sleep.” He took a step closer, his movements smooth and deliberate. “The stars have a way of making everything… quieter, don’t they?”

You hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to make small talk or let the silence stretch on.

“I didn’t think you’d be the type to sneak out at night,” he added, his voice taking on that teasing tone you were so familiar with.

“I’m not usually,” you replied, though the words felt a little less convincing now. “Just… needed some air. Some time away from everything.”

“Everything?” Sunghoon echoed, his eyebrow raising slightly. “Including me?”

You froze, unsure how to answer, but before you could say anything, he was already standing next to you.

You turned your attention back to the stars, unable to meet his gaze. “No, not you,” you murmured quietly, almost reflexively. “I just… don’t know how to sort all of this out.”

Sunghoon was silent for a beat, then spoke again, his voice softer now, a touch more serious. “You know, you don’t have to figure everything out all at once.”

You met his gaze, and for the first time, you didn’t see a challenge there. “I don’t know if I want to figure it out,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

His lips curled into that familiar smirk, but this time, it was different. There was no teasing edge, just the soft hint of understanding. “Fair enough.”

You exhaled slowly, considering his words.

“You know,” he said after a moment, his voice almost thoughtful, “I’ve seen you up here before, on some nights.”

You blinked, surprised. “You have?”

He shrugged, his gaze never leaving the stars. “Sometimes. I didn’t want to disturb you, though. You looked… peaceful.”

There was a flicker of something in his eyes, but it was gone so quickly that you weren’t sure if you had imagined it. He shifted slightly, and before you knew it, he was sitting down on the cold stone floor of the tower, his legs crossed as he looked up at the sky.

You hesitated for a moment, then joined him, sitting a few inches away.

After a long silence, you broke the silence, your voice almost soft. “The stars look beautiful, don’t they?”

Sunghoon glanced at you, but instead of following your gaze to the sky, his eyes lingered on you for a moment. “Yeah,” he agreed. “They are.” His gaze lingered a moment longer.

He never really looked at the night sky at all.

--

History of Magic class had never been your favorite, but this particular day, you were running late, thanks to a rather inconvenient staircase that decided to shift just as you were climbing it. You had narrowly avoided tripping, but it had definitely delayed your arrival to class.

You stepped into the classroom with a quiet sigh of relief, thankful that Professor Binns was, as usual, sound asleep, floating behind his desk in his usual ethereal state.

Your eyes scanned the classroom for an empty seat, your gaze flicking from student to student until you caught sight of Sunghoon. He was sitting a few rows ahead, his expression calm, though his eyes subtly flickered toward you. He gave you a slight nod and a small gesture with his hand, silently urging you to sit beside him.

You hesitated for a moment, but then shrugged, deciding it wouldn’t hurt to join him. As you made your way toward him, you felt the weight of your bag on your shoulder, wondering if you’d packed something extra this morning. You dropped into the seat beside him and set your bag down with a sigh.

But as you opened it to grab your notes, you immediately gasped, shocked. There was something extra in there that you hadn’t packed—something that wasn’t supposed to be in your bag. You quickly shut it again, looking around nervously, but fortunately, no one seemed to be paying attention. Most of the class was too busy chatting or goofing off to notice.

Sunghoon, noticing your surprise, raised an eyebrow at you. “What’s wrong?”

You nudged the bag toward him, a questioning look in your eyes. He tilted his head, curious, and then leaned in slightly. Without saying anything, he reached over and opened your bag. When his eyes met yours again, his expression mirrored your own surprise, and he quickly closed it, his eyebrows shooting up in shock.

“What the hell?” Sunghoon muttered under his breath, glancing around to make sure no one had noticed.

You both kept your voices low, trying to keep the situation between just the two of you. Sunghoon passed you his notes for the rest of the class, a wordless agreement to focus on the task at hand.

By the time Professor Binns finally stirred, slowly waking from his nap, you were practically ready to bolt out of the classroom. Sunghoon, too, had packed up quickly, his eyes flickering over to you as if he shared your urgency.

The moment Binns waved you off with a disinterested dismissal, you were out of your seat in an instant, clutching your bag tightly to your side. Sunghoon followed after you, his footsteps quick and light as he kept pace beside you. The two of you slipped into an empty classroom just down the hall. You quickly shut the door behind you, and Sunghoon locked it, his eyes flicking back to you, unsure of what was about to happen.

You didn’t waste any time. You set your bag on a nearby table and opened it again, and as you reached inside, your fingers brushed against something warm and soft—and then, with a slight tug, you pulled out Spark, the little Niffler, who immediately clung to you with his tiny paws.

You couldn’t help but laugh in surprise as Spark squirmed in your grip, his shiny black eyes gleaming as he wriggled in your arms, his pouch clearly overflowing. “That’s why my bag was so heavy!” you exclaimed in disbelief, shaking your head. “I thought I packed an extra book! How did you sneak in there, little guy?”

Spark tried twisting around in your arms, desperate to get away, but you held him tightly, trying to keep him under control. He was practically a bundle of energy, clearly pleased with himself after whatever little heist he’d gone on.

Sunghoon watched you both for a moment, raising an eyebrow as he crossed his arms. “How did he even get away from Hagrid?” he asked, his voice filled with a mix of amusement and genuine curiosity.

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Nifflers are tricky,” you said, your smile growing as you felt Spark nuzzle against you, clearly satisfied with his haul.

“I imagine Hagrid’s going to be missing something when he realizes.” Sunghoon said, his tone slightly teasing.

“I’ll return whatever he stole,” you said, a little exasperated, but the fondness for the mischievous creature clear in your voice. “If I can ever get him to give it back.”

Sunghoon’s eyes lingered on Spark for a moment longer before he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “Only you could have a Niffler hiding in your bag during school.”

You smiled sheepishly. “Well, I don’t make it easy for myself, do I?”

Sunghoon let out a soft laugh, his gaze still fixed on Spark "Definitely not," he said, a teasing tone slipping into his voice.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile at the way he looked at you. You adjusted your grip on Spark, who had decided that now was the perfect time to try and escape, wiggling energetically.

"Okay, okay," you said, giving up trying to keep him still. "You win. You can go play, but if you steal anything else, I’m telling Hagrid." Spark let out a small chirp as he scurried off your lap and darted toward a stack of books in the corner of the room, clearly on the hunt for more shiny objects.

Sunghoon’s chuckle faded as he looked over at you, his eyes a little more thoughtful now. "You’ve got a lot going on, huh?" he asked, his voice soft, almost as if he was just realizing something he hadn’t thought about before.

You cut him off with a playful shrug. "It’s nothing I can’t handle," you said, your tone light. "Besides, I’ve got good company to help me through it." You flashed him a grin, hoping to keep things light.

Sunghoon’s eyes softened, his lips curving into a small smile. For a moment, he just looked at you, but before either of you could say anything more, Spark returned with what looked like a shiny button in his mouth, clearly pleased with his new find.

Sunghoon glanced at Spark, then back at you, his expression amused but still thoughtful. "I think you’re more like him than you realize," he said, a hint of warmth in his voice. "Getting into trouble, but always figuring it out somehow."

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by his words. "I wouldn’t say I’m that bad."

He shrugged nonchalantly, his smile lingering. "Maybe not. But you definitely keep things interesting."

Eventually, Spark seemed to grow bored of his treasure hunt and returned to your lap, curling up contentedly. You smiled down at him, your fingers absentmindedly petting his fluffy little head.

"Guess we should probably get back to studying," you said, your voice softer now, more relaxed.

Sunghoon nodded, leaning back slightly in his chair, his gaze lingering on you for just a moment longer. "Yeah, I suppose so."

You and Sunghoon made your way to the courtyard after packing up your things from the empty classroom. The sun was beginning to set, casting a soft golden light over the stone pathways. The courtyard was quiet, except for the occasional rustling of leaves and the distant chatter of students who had finished their classes for the day. You found a quiet bench near the flowerbeds, your books spread out between you as you settled in to continue your study session.

As soon as you opened your notebook, the challenge began.

"So, what’s this about the Thunderbirds again?" Sunghoon asked, glancing at the page you were studying. "I’ve heard of them, but I’m not sure I get the whole thing."

You couldn’t help but smirk slightly, glad to have an advantage for once. "Thunderbirds are fascinating," you said, your voice animated as you leaned in a little closer to your notes. "They’re massive, magical birds that can summon storms with the beat of their wings. They’re native to North America and are known for being extremely elusive."

Sunghoon leaned back, crossing his arms with an amused smile. "Well, I already knew they could summon storms. But the elusive part? That’s new." He paused, then added, "So, what, they just hide all the time?"

"They’re incredibly protective of their nests," you continued, undeterred by his teasing. "They only show themselves to those they trust, and even then, it’s rare. That’s why spotting one is so special."

Sunghoon hummed thoughtfully, clearly intrigued, but then his gaze shifted to the open page of Defense Against the Dark Arts you had next to you. "Okay, okay. Enough with the Thunderbirds," he said, tapping the page lightly. "What about this spell here? Do you know how to counter the Inferius Charm? Because that’s actually something I’ve been working on in my spare time."

You paused, blinking a little at him. "Inferius Charm?" you asked, your brow furrowing as you tried to recall your lessons. "Isn’t that the one where you reanimate the dead?"

"Exactly," Sunghoon replied, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "It’s really tricky to deal with, but if you know the right counter-curse, you can stop them cold."

You thought for a moment, then nodded slowly. "I remember the counter-curse is Finite Incantatem, right? But it only works if the Inferius hasn’t fully gained control yet. Otherwise, you need something stronger, like Fiendfyre."

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow. "You’ve been reading ahead, haven’t you?"

You smiled, a bit smug. "I like to be prepared."

"Well, I can see that," he said, turning his attention back to his notes. "But let me tell you something you might not know," he added, leaning forward a bit. "A strong Patronus works too. It’s not something most people would think about, but the energy from a Patronus is enough to break the dark magic animating the Inferius."

You blinked, surprised. "That’s… that’s actually really clever."

He smirked, clearly pleased with himself. "I don’t just look good, you know."

You rolled your eyes playfully, but there was something about the way Sunghoon said it, so confidently, that made you smile. "I’ll give you credit, that’s pretty impressive."

But you weren’t about to let him have the last word. "But, you know, for someone who’s so good at Defense Against the Dark Arts," you teased, "you should really know that Fiendfyre is a dangerous last resort. It’s not something to throw around casually."

Sunghoon raised his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. I’ll admit it—I was showing off a little."

You both laughed, as you leaned back, taking a deep breath. It was nice, you realized, to have this kind of easy conversation with him.

The cool evening air brushed against your face as the sun finally dipped below the horizon, casting the courtyard in a soft, dusky light. You and Sunghoon continued your quiet study session, each of you focused but every so often exchanging playful glances or little remarks.

You found yourself looking at him more often than you realized, noticing the way the fading light reflected in his dark eyes, how his sharp jawline seemed more defined in the soft glow of the evening.

"So, what’s your favorite magical creature?" Sunghoon asked suddenly, his voice breaking the silence between you two.

You blinked, taken off guard by the question. "Favorite?" You thought for a moment, glancing at the magical creatures book on the table between you. "I think I’d have to go with Thestrals."

"Thestrals?" Sunghoon echoed, raising an eyebrow. "Isn’t that a bit dark for you?"

You smirked, tilting your head. "Not at all. They’re misunderstood creatures. They're associated with death, yes, but they’re also symbols of strength, resilience, and the importance of seeing the world for what it is."

Sunghoon seemed to pause for a moment, considering your words. "I get it," he said, his voice softening. "They're like the quiet ones that people forget about or are afraid of, but they're actually kind of… impressive."

You smiled, pleased he seemed to understand. "Exactly. They’re beautiful in their own way."

A comfortable silence stretched between you both after that, the air around you growing cooler as the evening progressed.

As you flipped through your notes, you heard him sigh, and when you looked up, his eyes were still on you.

"You’ve been pretty quiet about your personal life," Sunghoon said after a moment. His voice was casual, but there was an undercurrent of curiosity. "What’s something people don’t know about you?"

You raised an eyebrow, half-suspicious and half-curious. "Why the sudden interest?"

"I’m just wondering," he replied, shrugging with a nonchalant smile. "You know everything about me—well, almost everything—so I thought maybe I’d ask you something personal."

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond. You weren’t used to opening up about yourself like this, especially to someone who had been a bit of a puzzle to you until now.

"I guess," you started slowly, glancing down at your notes for a moment, "one thing people don’t know about me is that I actually really enjoy quiet moments like this. Everyone always thinks I’m outgoing, but I like being still. I like the peace."

Sunghoon watched you closely as you spoke, his expression softening. "That’s… kind of surprising," he said, almost as if he were contemplating your words. "But I get it. It’s nice to just… exist in the moment sometimes."

You simply nodded.

--

As weeks passed and the tension between you and Sunghoon grew, you found yourself wrestling with your thoughts more and more. The plan you’d concocted with Wooyoung had seemed like a good idea at the time—push Sunghoon into showing his feelings by making him jealous. But now, the thought of it made you uneasy. You had seen the signs in Sunghoon—his subtle glances, the way his attention shifted to you whenever you were around. But you realized you didn’t want to force him into a corner, didn’t want to pressure him into confessing if he wasn’t ready.

The truth was, you wanted him to figure it out on his own, just as you wanted to figure out your own feelings. But that didn’t make it any easier. Your heart raced every time he was near you, and your thoughts seemed to trip over themselves when you tried to sort out what you were feeling. You didn’t want to rush things, didn’t want to push him into something that wasn’t genuine, but you were also terrified of staying in this state of tension forever.

Wooyoung, of course, noticed the change immediately. His wide grin faltered when you told him you were cutting off the plan. "You’re really giving up on this, huh?" he asked, a little disappointment creeping into his voice. "I thought you were just waiting for the perfect moment."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "I don’t want to force him into something, Wooyoung. I’m tired of all the games." You paused, the weight of your words sinking in. "I don’t even know if I’m ready to confess to him, let alone push him into it."

Wooyoung raised an eyebrow, his usual teasing expression softening for once. "You’ve got a point," he admitted. "But you know, you’ve got this… tension. Like the two of you are on the verge of something, and neither of you wants to take that step. How long are you going to let that happen?"

You glanced away, feeling your cheeks flush. "I don’t know… I’m scared, Wooyoung. What if he doesn’t feel the same way? Or worse, what if we mess everything up by saying the wrong thing?"

He watched you for a moment, his eyes softer than usual. "You’re not alone in that fear, you know? But if you never try, you’ll never know. Just… don’t overthink it."

It was advice that made sense, but the doubt still lingered. You had always prided yourself on being confident, on taking things head-on, but with Sunghoon, everything felt so much more complicated. It wasn’t just about your feelings for him—it was about everything else too. The quiet moments you shared, the unspoken tension, the way he made you feel when he was around. You didn’t want to risk losing all of that by moving too quickly or, even worse, by never moving at all.

And yet, the longer the silence stretched between you, the harder it became to ignore. There were times when you would catch Sunghoon glancing at you across the room, when you’d catch his gaze lingering just a moment too long. And each time, you wondered if he was feeling the same things you were.

The months passed, and the tension between you two only seemed to build. Neither of you had confessed, and yet there was this invisible thread that connected you. Every laugh, every glance, every conversation seemed to deepen the unspoken bond between you. You couldn’t tell whether it was a friendship or something more, but the ambiguity felt like a heavy weight.

You still didn’t know what the right choice was. And as the year went on, you found yourself questioning whether you had made the right decision. Should you have taken the leap? Should you have forced Sunghoon into confessing, just like Wooyoung had suggested? Or was your choice to wait, to let him figure it out on his own, the right one after all?

--

The cool night air wrapped around you as you sat cross-legged on the floor of the Astronomy Tower, your eyes tracing the constellations above. It was one of those nights when the stars seemed to shine brighter, when everything around you felt still and quiet, almost too perfect for the chaotic thoughts running through your mind.

Your focus shifted as you flicked your wand, turning a nearby stone into a delicate flower for only a second before it crumbled back into dust. Sighing, you leaned back, your hands behind you, as you stared up at the sky again, wondering if you would ever find the courage to move past the endless tension with Sunghoon.

Then, just as you had almost settled into the quiet peace of the night, you heard it—a familiar sound of footsteps, slow and deliberate. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. You’d recognized the pattern of his steps by now.

Sunghoon’s silhouette appeared at the entrance to the tower, framed by the moonlight streaming in behind him. His figure was tall and steady, his usual confident demeanor not quite as present as it usually was, as if he too had come here to clear his mind.

"You always seem to find your way up here," you said without turning around, your voice quieter than usual, betraying the tension you’d been feeling.

Sunghoon paused for a moment, his eyes scanning the room until they found you, sitting on the floor, and he walked over. “I could say the same about you,” he replied, his voice softer than it had been in a while. "What’s got you up here alone?"

You shrugged, unwilling to go into details. "Just needed a break," you said, keeping your gaze on the sky. "Thought some quiet would help me clear my head."

There was a silence between you two then, a gap that seemed too long, yet neither of you spoke up to fill it. Sunghoon finally sat beside you, a little closer than you’d expected, but not quite close enough to feel intrusive.

"Practicing spells again?" Sunghoon asked after a while, glancing at the objects around you.

You nodded. "Just keeping my skills sharp. You know how it is."

Sunghoon smirked, but it was softer than usual. "I thought you only did that when you were avoiding something."

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the slight teasing tone in his voice, but you didn’t give him an answer right away. Instead, you bent down and flicked your wand again, turning a small rock into a sparkling butterfly. It fluttered around for a moment before landing gently in your palm, disappearing almost instantly. You felt a small sense of accomplishment, though it was fleeting.

Sunghoon watched you carefully, the hint of a smile still on his lips. He leaned back on his hands, settling beside you, his body warm despite the coolness of the night air.

Finally, Sunghoon broke the silence again, his voice more serious this time, a tone you weren’t used to hearing from him. "You know, you don’t have to pretend with me."

Your heart skipped a beat, and you turned to face him. His eyes met yours, the usual smirk gone.

“I’m not pretending,” you said, though your voice wavered slightly.

He shifted closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "You don’t have to hide from me," he repeated, his voice softer now, with a touch of concern, or maybe something else. "I’m not like the others. You can talk to me, you know."

You were almost caught off guard by his words. Your heart raced, and your mind scrambled for something to say, something to break the sudden weight of the moment. But all you could do was stare at him, feeling like you were teetering on the edge of something.

“Sunghoon,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but it was enough to make him lean in closer, his gaze softening.

"Yeah?" he said, his breath a little more measured now, as if waiting for something.

But instead of answering, you simply shook your head, unable to find the words that felt right. Instead, you focused on the stars again, trying to ground yourself in the moment.

And Sunghoon, for once, didn’t push you. He simply sat there, his body close to yours, his presence familiar and comforting.

The night air was just as crisp as the night before when you found yourself back in the Astronomy Tower, sitting on the floor, gazing up at the stars. You had come up here again, hoping for some peace and quiet, needing to clear your mind, but you couldn't shake the feeling that something was lingering in the air. You were starting to feel like the Astronomy Tower was becoming your place of refuge, even if the company had changed over the past few nights.

As you sat there, you heard the familiar sound of footsteps approaching from behind. You didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

Sunghoon stepped into view, holding a wizard chessboard under his arm, a smirk on his face as his eyes met yours.

“You’re here early tonight,” he said, his tone light but somehow teasing, his usual confidence already in full swing.

You raised an eyebrow, the corners of your mouth curving slightly upward. “And you’re late,” you shot back. “What’s that you’ve got there?”

“Thought we could mix it up tonight,” Sunghoon replied, setting the board down between you. "Wizard's chess."

You chuckled lightly at the idea. “You’re just trying to make this more interesting, aren’t you?”

Sunghoon grinned, shrugging. “Well, I figured it’d be more fun than just staring at the stars again.”

You didn’t argue. The quiet had been nice, but you couldn’t deny that a little challenge wouldn’t hurt. Plus, it was hard to say no when Sunghoon looked so determined to have a little fun.

With that, you both settled down and began setting up the board. It didn't take long for the first round to start. Sunghoon moved with surprising confidence, and it wasn't long before you were both deep into the game. The first round was over before you knew it—Sunghoon had won, and it seemed like he couldn't resist the opportunity to tease you about it.

“Looks like I’m just better at this than you,” he said with a cocky grin, clearly pleased with his victory. “Better luck next time.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “I’ll make sure to do better next round,” you shot back, your voice filled with mock determination.

The second round began, and you could already feel your competitive streak rising. This time, it was your turn to win, and as the last piece fell, you couldn’t help but smirk at Sunghoon.

“Not bad for a second round, huh?” you teased.

Sunghoon let out a dramatic sigh. “Fine, fine. I’ll give you that one. But I won’t make it easy next time.”

The third round began, and with it came a more intense back-and-forth. “You know, if you’d actually focus, maybe you’d have a chance at winning this round,” Sunghoon taunted, leaning forward as he eyed the pieces carefully.

You shot him a smirk, not missing a beat. “Oh, I’m focused,” you replied with a wink. “I’m just letting you think you have the advantage.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, clearly amused. “Right. I’m sure that’s exactly what you’re doing.”

You both continued to play, the tension between you growing more palpable with each move.

“I have to say,” Sunghoon mused after a few more moves, “you’re actually pretty good at this. Maybe you’re not just good at charms and transfiguration.”

You smiled, proud of yourself. “Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself. But don’t get too cocky; I’m still winning.” Sunghoon simply chuckled as the game went on.

The final move had been made, and with a smirk, you leaned back triumphantly, knowing that you had won the third round. "Looks like I’m the champion now," you teased, grinning widely at Sunghoon.

He was sitting back, his posture slouched in defeat, but there was something about the way he pouted that made you laugh softly. His eyes were still on the chessboard, as if pretending to study his loss, but you could tell he wasn’t truly bothered by it.

"Aw, don’t be like that," you teased, your voice taking on a playful tone. “It’s just a game.”

Sunghoon stayed silent, not giving you the usual comeback. Instead, he kept his eyes trained on the table, pretending to ignore you. You couldn’t resist the impulse to lean in.

As soon as you leaned in closer, though, his gaze flickered up to meet yours, and in an instant, everything shifted. Both of you froze, you were so close now that you could feel his breath mingling with yours, his eyes dark and intent as he locked onto you.

You were about to pull back, unsure of what was happening, but before you could move, Sunghoon’s hand shot up, his thumb and index finger gently cupping your chin. His touch was tender, almost possessive, as he leaned closer.

"Please… don’t pull back," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, his breath warm against your lips. His eyes fluttered between your eyes and your lips, clearly entranced by you, by the moment.

And then, before you could fully process what was happening, he closed the distance and kissed you. You widened your eyes in surprise, the shock of it stunning you for a brief moment, before you melted into the kiss, your hands instinctively reaching out to grip his shirt.

It felt like time stopped. The world fell away, leaving only the feeling of his lips against yours, the warmth of his hand still holding your chin as he deepened the kiss.

And just when you thought you couldn’t get any closer, he suddenly moved, shifting beneath you with an ease that surprised you. In a swift motion, he pushed the chessboard aside, sending it tumbling to the floor, and then pulled you onto his lap, your thighs resting against his, while still kissing you deeply.

You gasped, the suddenness of it all catching you off guard. The shock made you stiffen, but Sunghoon only tightened his hold on you, his hand on your waist, pulling you closer, his lips never leaving yours. His kiss became more passionate, and before you knew it, his hand was tilting your head to deepen the kiss further.

When the kiss finally broke, both of you were breathless. You stayed there for a moment, your forehead resting against his, both of you just breathing in the air between you.

Sunghoon’s hand gently brushed your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. His eyes, now softer than before, locked onto yours.

“About time, don’t you think?” he whispered.

You smiled softly, the corners of your mouth turning upward in a genuine expression. “Yeah, I think so,” you replied, shifting slightly, finding a more comfortable position on his lap, your legs wrapping around his waist.

His eyes never left yours as he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tender kiss. You melted into him, your body relaxing into the familiar embrace.

Sunghoon's hands moved to your back, pulling you closer, as if he couldn't get close enough. His lips moved against yours, exploring, teasing, and demanding. You responded in kind, your hands finding their way to his neck, pulling him closer.

You could feel Sunghoon's breath against your lips, his chest rising and falling with each heavy exhale. You parted your lips, inviting him in further, and he took the opportunity, his tongue exploring every corner of your mouth. While your hands roamed freely, tracing the lines of his muscular back, feeling the heat emanating from his skin.

When the kiss finally broke, you both were breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. Sunghoon's hand gently caressed your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your lips. "I could do this forever," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire.

You smiled, a contented smile, and leaned in for another kiss, Sunghoon's hands roamed freely, tracing the contours of your body with a gentle touch. Your own hands moved to his chest, feeling the strong, defined muscles beneath your palms.

Sunghoon's lips became more demanding, more insistent. His tongue traced the outline of your lips, teasing and inviting, before plunging into your mouth, exploring every corner.

You gasped softly into the kiss, your body responding to his every touch and movement.

When Sunghoon pulled back, his eyes never left yours. He smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes, before leaning in and pressing soft kisses along your throat. You leaned your head back, offering him more room to explore, your eyes closed, savoring the sensation.

His kisses became more urgent, more demanding, as he traced a path down your throat, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You could feel his breath against your skin, hot and heavy, his lips moving lower, sending shivers down your spine, his lips teasing and exploring. His lips left a trail of passionate marks on your skin. His hands tugged at the robes, pulling them down to expose more of your bare skin, his touch becoming more assertive.

As he mumbled against your skin, his words were a mix of jealousy and possessiveness. "Seeing you so close with Wooyoung was driving me insane," he growled, his voice low. "You're mine, know that. I can't stand seeing you with anyone else. You're my perfect match, the woman I want, the woman I need."

His kisses became more fervent, his hands roaming over your body. "You're the only one for me. I belong to you."

Sunghoon's kisses became more demanding, his lips pressing against your throat, his teeth grazing your skin. "I want you," he murmured, his voice hoarse with passion. "I need you. You're mine, and I'll show you just how much."

"I'll always be here for you. You're the only one who can make me feel this way." His eyes locked with yours, a smile played on his lips. You returned the gesture, your eyes sparkling with love.

Sunghoon's hands roamed over your body, his touch gentle. He traced the lines of your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks, as if memorizing every contour. "I love you," he whispered again, his voice hoarse with emotion. "You're the only one for me. I can't imagine my life without you."

You gazed into his eyes, feeling your heart race as his words sank deep into your soul. A warm smile tugged at your lips, and you cupped his face in your hands, gently brushing your thumb over his skin. "I love you too, Sunghoon," you murmured softly. "You're everything to me."

--

The next morning, everything felt different.

You were both quieter than usual, walking side by side down the corridors toward the Great Hall, you glanced at Sunghoon, his hand slipping into yours, fingers naturally intertwining as if it was the most natural thing in the world. His thumb gently brushed the back of your hand, a small but comforting gesture that made your heart flutter a little each time.

As you entered the Grand Hall together, the usual buzz of conversation seemed to dim, and all eyes were on you both.

You walked to the Ravenclaw table, your eyes scanning the room as people’s faces lit up with surprise and amusement. Some of your friends, like Wooyoung, gave you knowing smiles, while others were just as surprised as the rest of the students.

You sat down with Sunghoon, still holding hands under the table. He looked over at you, his expression soft and affectionate.

“Can you believe this?” you started, leaning toward Sunghoon as you started ranting, your voice low enough not to be overheard by the entire hall. “It feels like everything has been building up forever and then—boom! Suddenly everyone’s waiting for us to spill everything.”

Sunghoon listened attentively, a small smile tugging at his lips, his eyes never leaving you.

“Well,” he said, his voice soft but teasing, “I’m pretty sure everyone had bets on us getting together.”

You paused for a moment, raising an eyebrow in surprise. “Wait, what? People bet on us?”

Sunghoon chuckled softly, his hand still holding yours under the table. “Oh, yeah. You didn’t know?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all. “We’re that obvious, huh?”

“Apparently,” he said, his smile widening, he gently nudged you with his shoulder, his eyes glinting with affection. Without even thinking, you leaned in and gave him a quick, soft peck on the lips, the sweet, gentle gesture drawing a few surprised gasps and murmurs from nearby students.

You pulled away, grinning as you glanced around the table. “Well, that’s one way to shut them up.”

Sunghoon’s grin matched yours, and he shook his head, his cheeks flushed ever so slightly.

Some students were staring at you both with wide eyes, while others exchanged knowing glances, happy to see the two of you together. You could hear a few whispers, some offering congratulations, others teasing.

As you ate, you caught sight of Wooyoung at the other end of the table, giving you a thumbs up and a wide grin, clearly excited for the two of you.

“I guess we’re official now, huh?” you said quietly, your voice tinged with a little wonder.

Sunghoon nodded, his smile softening. “Yeah. Officially impossible to avoid.”

You laughed, leaning into his side for a moment before picking up your fork and continuing with your breakfast.

Wooyoung, of course, was the one who couldn't resist coming up to you at the given moment, a mischievous grin on his face. “I mean, I knew you two were perfect for each other. Now you have to admit I was right.” He dramatically threw an arm around your shoulders as you walked to class

You simply laughed, shaking your head.

--

The day of graduation arrived, and while the rest of the students was buzzing with excitement—filled with laughter and celebration—you found yourself slipping away from the crowded common room, seeking something more intimate, something quiet. You made your way up to the Astronomy Tower, the cool night air greeting you as you pushed open the door.

There, sitting by the edge of the tower, was Sunghoon, already waiting for you. His dark hair ruffled in the gentle breeze, and he looked so serene, so at peace in this moment that you couldn’t help but smile as you walked over to him. He turned his head as you approached, his eyes softening with affection when they met yours. Without a word, he opened his arms, and you slid into them, resting your head on his shoulder as you both gazed out at the stars together.

After a while, Sunghoon shifted, reaching into his robes with a faint smile, and pulled out a neatly wrapped box. He handed it to you, his eyes warm and full of anticipation.

"I’ve been meaning to give you this," he murmured, his voice soft in the stillness of the night.

Carefully, you peeled away the paper, revealing a small, elegant box. The surface was silver, polished to a shine, and you could see hints of blue around the edges. You ran your fingers over it for a moment before slowly opening the lid.

When you saw what was inside, your breath caught in your throat.

Two clocks, side by side, each gleaming with silver on the outside and a deep, beautiful blue on the inside. Intricate stars were imprinted on the faces of the clocks, each marking the hours with delicate precision. But it wasn’t just the time they showed. Both clocks also had a compass on it—N, S, E, W—engraved in elegant script.

Sunghoon smiled softly as he watched your reaction, the warmth of his gaze making your heart skip a beat. “It’s for us,” he said quietly. "I wanted to give you something that would remind you of us.”

You stared at the clocks for a moment, overwhelmed by the gesture, before you looked up at him. “Sunghoon… this is…” You didn’t know how to express what you felt, the words stuck in your throat.

“Open it,” he said, motioning to the other clock. With a curious tilt of your head, you reached over and carefully opened the glass of the second clock. The moment you did, a soft golden light began to swirl out, slowly forming into a shape. You watched, transfixed, as the golden light took form and danced in the air, weaving together until it became the image of you and Sunghoon—dancing together, caught in an eternal waltz as a beautiful, melodic tune filled the space around you.

You gasped, your hand going to your mouth in surprise and wonder. It was perfect, beautiful in a way you never could have imagined. You glanced at Sunghoon, your eyes wide, and he smiled back at you, his eyes just as captivated.

He opened his own clock, and the same golden light poured out, swirling in the air before it also took shape, the same dance playing out for him as well. His gaze never wavered from you as the music continued to play from both the clocks.

You couldn’t help but smile, your heart full as you looked up at Sunghoon. “This… this is beautiful,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

Sunghoon’s gaze softened as he looked at you, his hand reaching to gently cup your face. “I wanted you to have something to remember me by, even when we’re apart,” he said, his voice full of meaning.

Before you could reply, you leaned in, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. You felt him hold you back, his embrace warm and steady, the comfort you’d come to rely on. “I’ll never forget this,” you whispered, “I promise.”

--

The day of your departure arrived with a bittersweet air, the sky painted in soft pastels as dawn crept over the horizon. You stood on the edge of the dock, your packed bags at your feet, glancing back at the shore as you tried to memorize every detail of his face. Sunghoon stood before you, his expression torn between pride and sadness.

Sunghoon had just secured a permanent position at the Ministry—a rare opportunity. But you had your own opportunity, and the call for adventure had been tugging at you for as long as you could remember. You had already been offered a mission that would take you to distant lands and across oceans. It was everything you had always wanted.

Sunghoon’s hand lingered on your arm as he looked at you, his voice a quiet plea, “You really have to go?”

You nodded, biting your lip as you looked into his eyes. “I do,” you whispered, the words heavy with both excitement and sorrow. “But I’ll come back, Sunghoon. I promise.” Your voice wavered, but you steadied it with a smile, reaching to brush a strand of hair from his face. “Will you… wait for me?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Of course I will,” he replied, his voice strong and certain, as though the very idea of waiting for you was as natural as breathing. His fingers wrapped around yours, his touch warm and grounding. “I’d wait as long as it takes. Just come back to me.”

You nodded, and he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment. Then, his lips found yours in a kiss that held a hundred unspoken promises.

As the final boarding call echoed through the harbor, you reluctantly pulled back, whispering one last, “Goodbye, Sunghoon.”

He offered you a small, brave smile, and with a last squeeze of your hand, he let you go. You climbed onto the boat, joining the other passengers. As the vessel began to pull away from the dock, you stood by the railing, watching him grow smaller with each passing second. Sunghoon lifted his hand in a final wave, and you threw one back, watching as he brought his hand to his mouth and sent you a flying kiss, his eyes never leaving you.

You clutched the railing, feeling the sting of tears but forcing a smile, a mixture of sorrow and exhilaration filling your chest. As the boat carried you into the unknown, you kept your eyes on him until he was nothing more than a speck on the horizon.

Your days got filled with adventure, traveling through vast, uncharted landscapes, rescuing rare creatures, and studying them closely. You documented each discovery, scribbling notes about their behaviors and habitats. Alongside your journal of field notes, you kept a separate stack of parchment, devoted solely to letters for Sunghoon. Every new place held a piece of him in it, something you wanted to share, some wonder or funny moment that you could only imagine him smiling at.

And he always replied, his letters rich with life back home—updates from the Ministry, stories about mutual friends, and playful teases about your escapades. You looked forward to every letter, savoring the small glimpses of him through the familiar strokes of his handwriting, each one a reminder of the life and love waiting for you.

But one month, his letters stopped coming.

You brushed it off at first, thinking maybe he was just busy or that there was a delay in the postal owls. But when another month passed without a single word, a sense of worry began to settle in your chest. You sent him a new letter, keeping it light-hearted but laced with an unmistakable undertone of concern, hoping he’d notice and send some sort of reassuring response.

But again, nothing came.

With each passing day, the silence grew heavier, until every rustle of feathers outside your tent made your heart race, only to end in disappointment. As more weeks passed, you found yourself sending letters more frequently, each one shorter but more urgent, your worry gradually bleeding into your words.

The unease gnawed at you, your once joyful routine now tainted with an ever-present sense of dread. Every empty day brought more questions—was he hurt? Was he in trouble? Had something happened?

One quiet morning, as you were packing up your campsite nestled in the foothills of the Pyrenees, a Ministry owl swooped down through the trees, its wings stretched wide and a letter clutched tightly in its talons. You straightened up, brushing off a bit of dust as you reached out, and the owl settled onto your forearm with surprising patience. It offered the letter, a pristine parchment sealed with the unmistakable stamp of the Ministry of Magic.

Curious, you took it, feeling the weight of the thick, neatly folded paper as you broke the wax seal.

As you unfolded the letter, a few crisp lines of text caught your attention immediately.

“You are hereby requested to present yourself at the Ministry of Magic for a formal review and trial regarding the research conducted and documented during your travels.”

You read it once, then again, trying to piece together the intentions behind the message. A formal trial? For your research? The Ministry had always been aware of your work with magical creatures, especially since you regularly submitted reports to protect and conserve species that had been neglected. You’d even been granted clearance to travel beyond regulated zones, so why the sudden summons?

You hummed softly, contemplating the letter with a mix of curiosity and unease. It wasn’t every day the Ministry reached out with such formality, and it certainly wasn’t the usual tone you received from them.

You weren’t sure whether to be nervous, intrigued, or just plain confused. You’d spent so much of your time studying and protecting magical creatures, especially those forgotten by the wizarding world, that the thought of a trial for it felt… off. You had no idea why they’d be interested in you, but you were more than willing to go and see what they wanted.

Just as you were about to read it again, you felt a gentle push at your side. With a giggle, you turned and looked at the creature that had nudged you—Erebus, the Hebridean Black dragon you’d rescued some months ago. His large, dark eyes gleamed up at you, and you reached out instinctively to scratch under his chin. His scales shimmered in the late afternoon sun, and his powerful wings rustled with a slight shift, his massive form bending slightly to press against you affectionately.

"Hey, hey, buddy," you said with a soft laugh. "No need to get pushy, I see you there."

You knew full well that Erebus had grown attached to you ever since you had saved him. He was a creature that had been bound, tortured, and left to die in a dungeon before you found him. Healing him had been a challenge, but when you saw the life come back into his eyes, the pride of the dragon slowly awakening as he learned to trust again, it was worth it. Erebus wasn’t just a rescued creature—he was your companion, your friend. And he had stayed with you ever since.

You glanced at the letter again. "I’ve got to go to the Ministry, it seems. They're asking for me."

Erebus snorted at the letter, a cloud of smoke billowing from his nostrils. You coughed and waved the smoke away. "Okay, okay, I get it. Not exactly ideal, right?" You smiled, running a hand over his scales. "But I’m not sure how much of a choice I have."

You looked at the open sky, mentally preparing yourself for the journey ahead.

“Looks like our plans to get you home will have to wait,” you murmured, holding up the Ministry’s letter.

You quickly took out your wand, and with a swish, your camp, all your notes, and the little research station you had set up around you swirled into a tidy, compact form, sucked into your magically expanded suitcase. The suitcase, a nifty little thing inspired by none other than Newt Scamander himself, whose work had been a guiding light for you since your early days as a student. You hoped that one day, you’d be able to follow in his footsteps as a trusted protector of magical creatures.

It had become indispensable during your travels, allowing you to carry your work with you wherever you went. Erebus watched as the suitcase opened and the whirlwind of your belongings was sucked inside, his wings twitching in mild curiosity.

"Alright, buddy," you said with a soft smile, glancing at him. "Time to go home… for a bit."

Erebus made a low rumble and flapped his wings. His deep growl seemed almost resigned, but you could tell he didn’t mind. He had grown used to these travels with you. He flew up effortlessly, circling above your head a few times, before swooping down and slipping neatly into the suitcase as though he’d done it a thousand times before.

"Good boy," you said with a smile, and with a soft click, you closed the suitcase, feeling its weight shift in your hand.

With a deep breath, you started walking, leaving the small, once-familiar encampment behind.

--

You stepped into the bustling atrium of the Ministry of Magic, clutching your suitcase tightly as you navigated the maze of witches, wizards, and magical beings bustling around you. The air was filled with the echoes of conversations, the hum of enchanted typewriters clattering away on desks, and the occasional whoosh of a fireplace activating, delivering someone in a puff of emerald flames.

Keeping a firm grip on your suitcase, you weaved your way through the crowd, nodding politely to a few familiar faces and doing your best to avoid making eye contact with anyone who might delay you. When you reached the elevators, the gate clanged open, and you stepped inside.

A house-elf stood on tiptoes near the control panel, staring up at you with large, curious eyes. “Which floor, miss?”

“Level Ten, please,” you replied, your voice steady despite the knot of anticipation tightening in your stomach.

The elf pressed a large, brass button marked with the number "10." The elevator jolted, and you gripped the suitcase handle a little tighter as the floors began to blur past, each accompanied by a soft chime.

After what felt like an eternity, the elevator slowed and came to a halt. The house-elf opened the gate, giving you an encouraging nod. You stepped out into the quiet, dimly lit hallway, your footsteps echoing as you moved. You walked up to a high desk where a stern-looking goblin sat, peering over a thick ledger with tiny, round spectacles perched on the end of his nose. He glanced up as you approached, his sharp eyes narrowing with curiosity as he took in your travel-worn appearance.

“What business do you have here?” he asked, his voice clipped but not unkind.

“I received a letter from the Ministry,” you said, pulling the official notice from your coat pocket and holding it up. “There’s a trial regarding my research.”

The goblin took the letter, inspecting it with a keen eye before nodding curtly. He flipped through a hefty stack of parchment, his long, nimble fingers moving quickly as he scanned each page. Finally, he gave a satisfied grunt and pushed the letter back toward you.

“Please have a seat,” he instructed, nodding toward a row of chairs against the wall. “Someone will come to escort you shortly.”

You thanked him and moved over to the chairs, your suitcase resting against your legs.

You had been sitting quietly in the waiting area, your thoughts whirling, when you saw Jungwon approaching. You recognized him immediately — a Gryffindor from your years at Hogwarts, though you never had much of a chance to get to know him personally. His warm smile caught you off guard, and you blinked as he stopped in front of you, his eyes twinkling with recognition.

"Hey," he greeted, his tone light and friendly. "Please, follow me."

You nodded, standing up as you grabbed your suitcase and followed him down the hall.

“So, how have you been?” Jungwon asked casually, casting a glance over his shoulder as you walked beside him. "It's been a while since Hogwarts, huh?"

You hummed in agreement, trying to place him better. You'd seen him around, but your interactions had always been limited. He was close to Sunghoon, wasn’t he?

“I’ve been well,” you answered, pulling your thoughts together as you walked, eyes flicking to the side. “So, uh… what’s this trial about?”

Jungwon shrugged nonchalantly, his hands tucked into his pockets. “Honestly, I’m not really sure. Ministry business, you know?”

Your curiosity couldn’t be quelled, though. “What about Sunghoon? How is he?” The words slipped from your lips before you could stop them.

Jungwon froze mid-step, and you followed his lead, watching as he turned to face you. His expression shifted, no longer the light, easygoing one he had worn just moments before. There was a sadness in his eyes, a quiet heaviness that you hadn’t anticipated.

For a moment, he seemed reluctant to answer, then he sighed. “Sunghoon’s… well. I mean, he’s okay. But,” he paused, studying your face carefully, “he found someone else.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, you weren’t sure you had heard him correctly. “What?” The word felt foreign coming from your mouth, like a punch that left you stunned. “He… moved on?”

Jungwon nodded slowly, a faint frown tugging at his lips. “Yeah. A few weeks ago, actually. Sunghoon became… really different. Quiet, withdrawn. Wouldn’t speak much, and then, out of nowhere, he started showing up with Ju-Won. She’s an Auror too, like him. They’re together now. They’re engaged.”

Your chest felt tight, the air suddenly thicker as a lump formed in your throat. Sunghoon had promised. He had promised to wait for you. But here he was, with someone else. A fiancee.

You looked down at the floor, blinking rapidly to clear the stinging sensation behind your eyes. The room felt smaller, like you were suffocating, and you couldn’t understand why the weight of this hurt so much. You hadn’t expected Sunghoon to wait forever, but you didn’t think he’d let go so easily.

Jungwon shifted uncomfortably, noticing the change in your expression, but he didn’t press the issue further.

You felt numb as you followed Jungwon down the long corridor, his words echoing painfully in your mind. Sunghoon… had found someone else? You struggled to maintain your composure as Jungwon walked beside you, keeping a respectful silence.

He eventually stopped in front of a tall, polished door. “This is where they’ll be holding your trial,” he said gently. “You’ll be called in shortly.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

Jungwon hesitated for a moment, studying you with quiet sympathy. It felt like he wanted to say something, perhaps offer some kind of comfort, but he seemed to decide against it, only giving you a slight nod before stepping into the room to take his place. You were left alone in the dimly lit hallway, your heart pounding. You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to focus on the present. Whatever happened with Sunghoon, you would face it later. For now, you had a duty to the creatures you’d studied.

The door opened again, and an official leaned out to call you in. You squared your shoulders, lifted your chin, and stepped through the doorway.

The room was silent as you entered, only the shuffling of your footsteps echoing off the cold, stone walls. You took a seat in the lone chair positioned in the center of the room, feeling the weight of several pairs of eyes on you. Around you sat a panel of stern-faced Aurors, their expressions unreadable, though a few cast glances at one another as you settled in.

A head Auror, an older witch with sharp eyes and a set jaw, leaned forward. “We’ve received reports about your research,” she began, her voice crisp. “Could you give us an update on the… progress?”

You took a steadying breath and sat up straighter, the words flowing more easily than you expected. "I’ve made significant strides. I’ve been able to identify new species and create methods for safely caring for previously misunderstood creatures. I've also created healing treatments for certain species that were previously unmedicated." You shifted uncomfortably, but you managed to keep your voice steady.

Then came the dreaded question. “And have you rescued any creatures considered… dangerous?” another Auror asked, his tone laced with skepticism.

You hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “Not dangerous if treated with respect,” you replied slowly, though you could feel their eyes narrowing, their skepticism deepening. The more you spoke, the more their expressions tightened.

After you finished, the lead Auror exchanged a glance with her colleagues before turning back to you. “You must understand, there are serious concerns about the dangers of these creatures. The potential for harm — not only to yourself but to others — is considerable.”

Another Auror stood, arms crossed, his voice dismissive. "You expect us to believe that every dangerous creature can be domesticated, tamed even? You do realize some of them are classified as too hazardous for interaction with the public?"

You met his gaze, trying not to show how much it rattled you. "My research shows that with the right methods, creatures like the Hungarian Horntail or the Manticore can be approached safely. I've helped them—rescued them—from illegal situations, from being exploited and misused." You said firmly.

"They're not dangerous if treated properly. With the right care, understanding, and respect, any creature can be manageable." You said earnestly, hoping they could see your perspective. “The true danger lies in the lack of understanding—”

But your words were cut short as she raised a hand, her tone turning icy. “Regardless, we cannot ignore the potential risks. Until further investigation is completed, you will be placed in custody for the time being.”

Before you could fully register her words, two wizards stepped forward, their expressions unyielding. One reached for your suitcase, wrenching it from your grasp, while the other grabbed your arms, twisting them behind your back. "Let go!" you shouted, trying to twist away, but the grip on your arms only tightened.

"We have our orders," the Auror said coldly, his face stoic as the other wizard snatched your wand away.

"No, please," you pleaded, your voice rising in panic. "I’m not a threat. They’re not a threat! Please, don’t hurt them!"

The Auror didn’t respond, and you felt the heavy presence of the two men as they dragged you from the room, your footsteps stumbling as they led you down the cold stone corridors. They escorted you to a small cell, shoving you inside before locking the heavy iron door with a dull clang.

You sank to the floor, the cold seeping into your bones as the reality of the situation settled over you. The Ministry was truly going to investigate your work, your methods, your intentions — as if you were some criminal. As if the creatures you loved and fought for were merely threats, rather than lives in need of protection.

As you pressed your back against the wall, feeling the weight of the day’s events pressing down, a tiny warmth stirred in the pocket of your shirt. You looked down and saw Kai, your small fire salamander, peeking out with his bright eyes, looking up at you with a gentle curiosity.

Gently, you cupped him in your hands, letting him sit on your palm as he looked around, with a small, trembling smile, you whispered, “Guess it’s just us for now, Kai.”

You gently placed Kai down on the stone floor, the warmth of his small body still lingering in your hands. You rummaged through your pockets, searching for something that could help, anything that would make sense of the mess you found yourself in. Herbs, a magnifying glass, food for creatures, parchment, ink—nothing useful.

As you sighed and leaned down, when a small fluttering noise caught your attention. Lena, your tiny pixie, had emerged from under your coat and was now fluttering around the cell, her tiny wings flapping excitedly. She squeaked, the sound high-pitched and curious as she zipped around the dim space. You smiled faintly at the sight of her, but your thoughts were too heavy to focus on her antics for long.

Your fingers brushed the cool edges of your pockets until something caught on the fabric. For a moment, you thought it was just some misplaced trinket, but as you pulled it out and saw its familiar shape, your breath hitched.

It was the clock that Sunghoon had gifted you at graduation, still in pristine condition despite everything. You had almost forgotten about it—thinking it misplaced, or perhaps stolen by one of the nifflers in your suitcase. But there it was. The clock.

You ran your fingers over the intricate silver design, the blue inner face still shimmering under the dim light. With a shaky breath, you slowly opened the glass. A soft golden light began to swirl from the clock’s center, and you froze, mesmerized by the familiar vision of you and Sunghoon dancing—just as it had been when you first opened it. The music filled the cell softly, the melody so beautiful and haunting, it almost felt like he was here with you.

Kai curled up beside you, his flame-like body flickering faintly in the dim light. Lena hovered just above your head, watching the clock with curious eyes. You took a deep breath, closing the glass gently, the music fading as you sealed it shut.

But then, unexpectedly, the music played again.

This time, it wasn’t your melody. The sweet, familiar tune was still there, but it felt different. Your heart skipped a beat, and before you could process the strangeness of it, Kai’s small squeak interrupted your thoughts. You looked up, and what you saw made your breath catch in your throat.

There, standing on the other side of the bars, was Sunghoon, holding his own clock in his hand, the same golden light flickering from it.

"Sunghoon…" you whispered, your voice barely audible, a wave of relief rushing over you, followed by a knot in your throat as you realized he was here.

He glanced at you, his eyes softening, though they weren’t as warm as you remembered. There was something different in them, something you couldn’t quite place. He closed the clock with a decisive motion and met your eyes.

"You’re… okay?" you asked quietly, your heart pounding in your chest as you walked closer to the bars, your hands reaching out instinctively.

"I’m fine," he said, his voice calm but distant. "But you—what happened? Why are you here?"

You tried to explain, your words stumbling out as you told him everything—how you had been summoned by the Ministry, how they had misunderstood your work, how they’d locked you away. You could see the muscles in his jaw tighten as you spoke, but he didn’t interrupt.

When you finished, you couldn’t help but ask the question that had been gnawing at your mind ever since you’d seen him. "Sunghoon, what happened? Why didn’t you answer my letters? I… I sent so many. Why didn’t you—"

He turned away for a moment, running a hand through his hair. You could see the conflict in his movements, the hesitation, and for a brief second, your heart dropped. It was as if he was trying to find the right words. "I… I waited for you," he finally said, his voice soft, almost too soft. "I waited, but you never came back. I kept writing, but I didn’t hear from you."

You felt a tightness in your chest as you processed his words. "What do you mean? I sent you letters, Sunghoon! I didn’t stop writing! How could you not know?" you asked, your voice rising slightly.

He looked back at you, his face confused. "I don’t know. I thought you just… didn’t come back. Didn’t answer. Then, my parents…" He trailed off, clearly struggling. "They found Ju-Won for me. I—I didn’t know what to do. And then Jungwon came to me after the trial. He told me about you being here, and I couldn’t believe it."

Your breath caught in your throat. "Ju-Won?" you whispered, the name like an icy hand on your heart.

He shook his head slowly. "I never wanted this. But I thought… maybe you had moved on, that you weren’t coming back." His voice cracked just slightly.

You looked at him, feeling a wave of dizziness wash over you. "No, Sunghoon… I never… I never moved on. I sent you letters because I was coming back for you, I was always coming back."

Sunghoon’s expression shifted, a quiet realization flickering across his features. He took a step forward, his hand trembling slightly before he reached out to gently caress your cheek. The touch was so soft, so tender, that it almost felt like a dream.

“You’re still as beautiful as the day you left…” His voice was low, his words barely more than a whisper, but they cut through the heavy silence between you two, settling in your heart like a soft ache.

A stray tear slipped from your eye, and you didn’t even realize it had fallen until Sunghoon gently wiped it away with his thumb.

“I’ll get to the bottom of this,” he said, his voice firm now. "I promise, I’ll get you out of here."

You felt your chest tighten, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. Your heart felt torn, as if it was caught between the relief of seeing Sunghoon again and the panic of the mess you were in. "Please, Sunghoon… don’t let anyone harm my creatures."

He nodded, his gaze softening as he promised, "I won’t let them touch your creatures. I’ll take care of everything."

Then, to your surprise, he took your hand and kissed it softly, the warm pressure of his lips lingering for a brief moment. "I’ll be back soon. Stay safe, okay?"

You nodded, unable to form words as he turned and walked away, the sound of his footsteps fading, leaving you alone in the cold cell once again.

You sat back down against the cold stone wall, the silence of the prison pressing in on you.

Kai curled up on your lap, his warmth a small comfort amidst the uncertainty. Lena hovered nearby, her small face full of concern.

You didn’t know what to do now but wait and hope—hope that Sunghoon could undo the mess, that your creatures would remain safe.

After what felt like endless hours, you finally heard footsteps echoing down the corridor. Jungwon appeared at the cell door, a familiar reassuring smile on his face as he unlocked the door and motioned for you to follow. You stood up, heart pounding, and fell into step beside him.

“What happened?” you asked, searching his expression for answers, but he only gave you a gentle smile.

“Come with me,” he said simply, guiding you back through the winding halls of the Ministry to the trial room. The familiar sight of the council waited for you, but this time, the atmosphere was far less severe. You sat down in the chair at the center, your heart hammering in your chest, and looked up at the head Auror as he cleared his throat.

"We’d like to extend our apologies. We received a tip that you were harboring magical creatures with intent to use them against the Ministry," he explained. "After thorough investigation, however, we've concluded that the tip was unfounded. We see now that you only meant to help the creatures in your care."

A wave of relief washed over you, and a smile broke across your face as the head Auror nodded, officially releasing you as innocent. Jungwon stepped forward, his own smile widening, and handed you back your wand. You clasped it tightly, feeling a sense of calm return now that it was back in your hands.

“Thank you,” you said quietly. “What about my creatures? Where are they?”

"Follow me," Jungwon said, his tone lighter now. He led you down a quiet corridor, explaining as you went, "Sunghoon took them under his care. He didn’t trust anyone else to keep them safe."

You sighed in relief, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders. Finally, Jungwon stopped in front of a door, pushed it open, and gestured for you to enter.

Inside, Sunghoon stood by a desk, his expression tense, and his brows knit together in a rare display of anger. He looked up when he heard you enter, his expression softening, though a hint of frustration remained.

“Sunghoon… what happened?” you asked gently, stepping closer to him.

He clenched his jaw before answering, “It was my parents. They were behind everything.” His voice was low, controlled, but you could sense the anger simmering just beneath the surface. “They hid your letters from me. They sent the tip to the Ministry to have you arrested. And they set me up with Ju-won to… try to make me forget you.”

The revelation hit you like a cold wave. You shook your head, barely able to process the extent of what he was saying. "Your parents did all of that?"

Sunghoon nodded, his eyes searching yours. “They wanted me to move on, to find someone ‘suitable’—someone who fit their idea of a perfect match for me.” He took a shaky breath, looking away for a moment before his gaze returned to you. “I'm so sorry… I should have fought harder, questioned things more. I should have known something wasn’t right.”

You stepped forward, reaching for his hand, holding it tightly. “None of this is your fault, Sunghoon. You didn’t know, and neither did I.”

He nodded, his thumb brushing over your hand as he held it, and his expression softened. "I promise, I won’t let anyone keep us apart again." Sunghoon sighed, his eyes hardening as he pulled off the engagement ring, placing it on the desk without a second glance. He turned to you, a reassuring smile replacing the coldness from a moment ago, and handed over your suitcase.

You exhaled a breath of relief, hugging the suitcase close to your chest. “Thank you… for everything.”

“Come on,” Sunghoon said with a gentle smile, his hand resting protectively on your back as he guided you out. As you walked, you shared stories about the magical creatures you’d encountered on your travels, and he recounted a few of his more daring Auror missions.

But then, a sudden scream echoed down the corridor. You both turned to see a striking witch with dark hair and a sharp, furious expression storming toward you. Sunghoon’s arm instinctively wrapped around you, pulling you close.

“Sunghoon, how dare you!” she spat, her voice venomous. “You broke off our engagement for… for her?” She glared at you, eyes filled with barely contained rage. Her voice turned shrill as she pointed a finger in your face. “Do you know what you’ve cost me? The riches, the influence, the Park name—it was all right there!”

You slapped her hand away, your own anger flaring as you met her gaze unflinchingly. “Maybe you should’ve focused on him instead of what he could give you.”

Ju-won’s face twisted in rage, and you saw her hand rise, ready to strike you. But before she could even get close, Lena darted out of your pocket in a flash of blue light. The little pixie squeaked angrily, grabbing a fistful of Ju-won’s hair and tugging with surprising strength.

Ju-won shrieked, swatting at Lena in a desperate attempt to free herself, but Lena only pulled harder, her squeaks of defiance echoing in the hall. The few Ministry workers nearby stopped, eyes wide, as they took in the scene with shock.

“Get it off! Get it off!” Ju-won screeched, struggling against Lena’s relentless hold.

At last, with a little triumphant squeak, Lena released Ju-won’s hair and zoomed back to you, settling into your shoulder pocket. Ju-won stumbled back, face red with fury and humiliation, her hair in complete disarray.

Ju-won’s face twisted with fury when she suddenly pulled out two clocks from her pocket, dangling them from the strings with a victorious grin. “Oh, I will not be cast aside like this!” she spat, voice rising with a venomous edge. “You think you can have everything, don’t you?” she sneered. “Well, let’s see how it feels when something you want is taken from you.”

Both you and Sunghoon stiffened, the realization hitting like a punch to the gut. You immediately began patting yourself down, confirming what you feared—the clock was missing. She stole them. The heavy weight of anger settled over you as you watched her mockingly dangle them in the air.

“Ju-won. Give them back, now.” Sunghoon’s voice was low and commanding, each word sharp with fury.

You stepped forward, frustration bubbling inside you. “Those belong to us. You have no right to take them.”

“No!” Ju-won shouted, clutching the clocks tightly in her fists. With a spiteful glare, she spun around and hurled the clocks toward the nearest fireplace. The green flames of the Floo Network flared up, threatening to consume them.

Your wand was halfway out of your pocket, ready to cast Accio, but before you could speak, a familiar, small, furry figure leapt through the air. With nimble agility, a niffler intercepted the clocks mid-flight, snatching them away from the flames and landing safely on the floor.

The niffler scurried over to Sunghoon, who leaned down, carefully taking both clocks from its little paws. He gave the creature an affectionate pat. “Thank you, Spark.”

Spark beamed up at you, his eyes shining with the same mischievous glint they had from back at Hogwarts. He darted over to you, leaping up into your arms, and you caught him, laughing. “Hey, long time no see, buddy!”

Ju-won’s face twisted in disbelief as Sunghoon straightened, his eyes fierce. He addressed her with a calm authority that made her shrink back. “Ju-won, what you did today only shows that you don’t belong here,” he said, his voice low and unyielding. He leaned in, murmuring something sharp and private into her ear that made her face go pale.

With a final huff, Ju-won spun on her heel, face flushed with humiliation as she hurried away, avoiding the gazes of everyone around.

Afterwards Sunghoon led you toward a nearby fireplace with a small smile, gesturing for you to step in. Together, you went through the Floo Network, the swirling green flames transporting you both to a room that was both luxurious and filled with a sense of calm.

“Welcome to my room,” he said with a soft smile.

You looked around, taking in the warmth of the space. “I can’t believe Spark stayed with you all this time,” you said.

Sunghoon chuckled, “I could never let him go. He’s been a great companion. Right, Spark?”

Spark squeaked in response to that. “Would you like to meet some other nifflers, Spark?” You asked and watched as his eyes lit up, and he nodded excitedly. You laughed, reaching for your suitcase and opening it on the floor. Climbing down into it, you looked back up and beckoned to Sunghoon. “Come on in!”

Sunghoon hesitated for a moment, but curiosity won over, and he followed you. Inside, you led him through various sections of your enchanted suitcase, each with unique landscapes and ecosystems for the creatures you cared for. Sunghoon looked around, marveling at the sheer life around him.

Eventually, you reached the area where you kept your nifflers. With a quick call, five of them scampered out, their fur shining under the magical light. Spark chirped in excitement and darted forward, joining his new friends. You straightened up, watching with amusement as Lena, flitted out of your pocket and disappeared somewhere in the terrain.

You turned to Sunghoon, catching the awe in his expression. Smiling, you took his hand, guiding him through the different environments until you stopped by a stone ledge. With a short whistle, you called out, and the ground trembled slightly. Emerging from a large cave opening, Erebus, lowered his head, scales glistening with an otherworldly sheen as he rumbled softly in greeting.

Sunghoon took a small step back, looking at Erebus with a mix of fear and awe. You laughed softly, reaching for his hand again. “It’s okay,” you said gently. “He trusts me, and he’ll trust you, too.”

Sunghoon looked at you, searching your eyes before nodding. Slowly, you guided his hand forward, placing it against the warm, textured scales under Erebus’s jaw. The dragon rumbled again, leaning slightly into Sunghoon’s hand, a deep, pleased purr vibrating through him.

“See?” you whispered, smiling as Sunghoon’s gaze softened in amazement.

Sunghoon kept his hand steady, glancing between you and the massive dragon before him. Erebus leaned further into his touch, his dark eyes half-closing in contentment. Sunghoon exhaled a quiet laugh, a mixture of relief and wonder.

"I never imagined I'd be doing this," he murmured, glancing at you with a warm smile. "You've always had a way with creatures."

You grinned, feeling a swell of pride. "Erebus is special. I rescued him from a terrible situation, and ever since, we’ve had this bond." You gave Erebus a gentle pat before he pulled back, lifting his great head and retreating into the shadows of his sanctuary.

As Erebus disappeared, you turned to face Sunghoon fully. The awe hadn't left his expression. "I can see why you love this work," he said softly. "I missed seeing this side of you."

A warmth blossomed in your chest. "I missed having someone who understood," you replied, voice just above a whisper. "I always wanted to share this with you."

Sunghoon’s gaze softened, and without another word, he leaned in slowly, giving you time to close the remaining distance. The world seemed to fade as his lips met yours, gentle at first, then deepening as you both leaned into each other.

When you finally parted, both of you were breathless, but his forehead rested against yours, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“It’s you and me now, Sunghoon,” you whispered.

He nodded, his eyes sparkling as he took your hand. "Forever, if you’ll have me."

As you leaned up, pressing your lips against Sunghoon's, he responded with a passion that ignited a fire within you. His hand cupped your cheek, While his other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, as if he couldn't get enough of your warmth and presence.

As the kiss lingered, Sunghoon's hands moved down to your thighs, his fingers tracing the soft skin. He lifted you up gently, his strong arms supporting your weight, and placed you on the table, your legs wrapping around his waist. Sunghoon's hands roamed over your body, his touch becoming more assertive, more confident. He traced the lines of your waist, his fingers grazing your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

When the kiss broke, you both were breathless, your hearts pounding in your chests. Sunghoon's hand gently caressed your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your lips. "I want you," he whispered, his voice hoarse with passion, his eyes filled with desire, caressing your legs, his touch gentle yet firm. His fingers traced the curves of your thighs, sending shivers down your spine.

His kisses became more intense, his lips moving from your neck to your collarbone, leaving a trail of passionate marks. His teeth grazed your skin, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice filled with admiration and lust. "I can't get enough of you." He came up to kiss you again. His lips met yours in a gentle, tender kiss. "You make me feel alive, like no one else ever has," he whispered against your lips, his voice hoarse with passion. "I'll always protect and cherish you." He murmured.

And as the kiss deepened, the sweet, familiar melody of your clocks began to chime, the golden swirls dancing out of their glass coverings on the table where Spark sat proudly, watching the scene unfold. The soft notes filled the room, adding a layer of warmth to your embrace, and you both smiled slightly against each other’s lips.

Sunghoon’s hand brushed along your cheek, wiping away the happy tears that had formed there. He pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting against yours as he breathed out softly. His eyes were filled with love, a love that glowed even brighter than the melody around you. Sunghoon looked down at you, his gaze filled with warmth. He took a steadying breath before murmuring, “Would you make me the happiest wizard in the world by becoming mine…forever?”

Your heart raced, and without hesitation, you beamed up at him, feeling a happiness you hadn’t known could exist. “Yes, Sunghoon,” you replied, voice filled with joy. “A million times, yes.”

His smile broke into a brilliant grin, and before you knew it, he was sweeping you off your feet. You laughed, the sound echoing through the room. “You make me so, so happy,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve never stopped loving you, not even for a moment.”

[bontentrio]

ATEEZ GETTING OUT OF THE FRIENDZONE

san x gn reader + mingi x gn reader (separated)

part 2 to ateez stuck in the friendzone! read that part so this makes sense

tw: slow burn + veeery dramatic + angst + fluff

a/n: both have the slowestttt slow burns in history of friends to lovers omg my heart did kinda break a little while writing them lol so keep in mind that both are VERY dramatic. maybe even cliche but honestly i just wrote what i, personally, enjoy reading. i’m just a girl in love with love 🥹

masterlist

SAN

san found himself attempting to hide his smile while you told him about your awful date from a few days ago. you were laying down with your head on his lap as san casually untangled strands of your hair, while you rambled on and on about the misfortunes he secretly thought were fortunes in disguise.

“who talks about their mother on the first date? like the whole time i mean, of course it’s okay to mention one or two things following the context of the conversation” you said, moving your hands dramatically to prove your point “but the whole time? i tried to switch the topic of the conversation towards work and can you believe he told me about what his mother does for a living before telling me what HE does for HIS?”

san couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh. you were so cute and he was so happy and relieved that the date had failed.

“he should go to therapy” he said, in between giggles. “right?! sigmund freud would have been thrilled to have him as a patient” you exclaimed, laughing too.

after a few moments of cracking jokes and laughing about the situation, you turned your head to face san. “so what about you?” you asked. he looked down at you, smile on his face still. “what about me?”

“have you gone on dates lately?” you asked. he threw his head back, shaking it slightly “with what time? i’m too busy with schedules” he answered, half lying. it’s true that he’s very busy with his idol duties, but he always managed to make time for you. he knows he could easily use up that time to go on dates, but for obvious reasons that you still were ignorant to, he didn’t. to you, he was just an introvert.

“but are you not interested in anyone?” you pushed, lifting your head and sitting up to face him properly. san chose to avoid your eyes, not trusting himself to keep his own secret. instead, he looked to the city on his right, suddenly finding the building architectures more interesting. he noticed that the air in the terrace got warmer too, and the concrete platform you were sitting on got harder. or was he the one that got warmer and stiffer? “no, i don’t think so” he lied, but you knew him enough to see through it. “liar, you’re blushing”

“well it is an intimate question” he answered, attempting to smile in order to play it off. you shook your head no “you blushed and your left eye twitched a bit. that was definitely a lie and as your best friend i want to know!” you exclaimed, grabbing his hands. if only you knew the effect you had on him.

when he came back from tour, he was determined to confess. but now that the perfect opportunity arose, he couldn’t open his mouth. questions and different negative scenarios plagued his mind, convincing him that maybe it was a bad idea. he much rather work on moving on than lose you as a friend.

“are they that special to you?” you asked, in a much quieter tone of voice, noticing his silence. he nodded, staring at your eyes, hoping you could notice the love they held whenever he looked at you. but despite his desperation, you didn’t. “they are very lucky then, you genuinely are amazing in every aspect sannie”. you continued, going back to your original place with your head on his lap, but still holding his hands. he kept staring at you, if only you knew.

“thank you” san managed to say.

———

“how fast can you come over to help me with something?” you asked san on the phone, as he exited the practice room. it was like the stars aligned, because he had just finished for the day. “i can come over right now, are you okay?” he asked, worried something may be wrong despite you sounding relatively okay. “i can’t pick an outfit and- shit my aunt his calling me, invite yourself in when you arrive, i’m in my room and you already know the lock number of the door” you said, before hanging up.

outfit for what?

———

so that’s how san found himself sitting on your bed on a friday night, numerous pieces of clothing scattered all over without care. he scrolled through some unread messages while he waited for you to try on a different outfit for your new date. yes, new date. as if his heart haven’t just healed from last time.

“i matched with someone on this app and they immediately invited me on a date so now i’m having a fashion crisis” you had explained to him as soon as he entered your room. why was it so hard for you to realize that your dates have been failing for a reason?

you appeared once again, now wearing an outfit that honestly took san’s breath away as soon as his eyes landed on your figure. it was nothing too extravagant, actually, it was rather simple, but it was enough to make san’s head spiral. specially when you twirled around to show the outfit from the back, since your shirt had an open back.

“so? what do we think?” you asked, eyes filled with hope.

san was conflicted: he was 100% sure he has never seen anyone look more beautiful, more dashing, more perfect. but, it wasn’t for him. he didn’t want anyone else to look at you like that, they would never come remotely close to the way he feels about you.

“san-?” you started to ask after a few seconds of silence, but got interrupted by him: “don’t go on that date”

you looked at him confused, as he stared back with the same surprised face. that really had slipped from his lips before he realized what he was saying. you fucked up big time san, he thought to himself.

“why? do i really look that bad?” you asked, turning around to face the mirror in order to examine your body and face. he noticed the way your eyes dimmed, as you carefully traced your eyes over your figure, finding little imperfections that made your face turn into a sad frown. san felt his own heart shatter at the sight, and before he knew, he stood up and quickly hugged you from behind, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

“sannie?” you asked, startled by his sudden action and making you momentarily forget about the insecurities that started flooding your mind. you looked at him through the mirror: even if he was leaning down on you, he was still much wider, making you feel very small in his arms. unconsciously, you lifted your hand and patted his hair. san lifted his head, looking at you through the mirror as well, and your eyes interlocked.

“you’re perfect y/n” he whispered. “i’m sorry if i gave you the wrong idea, you look beautiful and your date is very lucky”. he was trying to be supportive, but traces of sadness and desperation were evident in his face. enough for you to notice. you turned around, and the same hand that was patting his head went down to his cheek, holding him in place to look at you.

“what’s wrong san?” you asked, softly. your thumb traced comforting circles on his cheek, and you could feel his arms tighten around you as he closed his eyes.

“go on that date” he whispered in a shaky voice, before adding “you look beautiful”.

you stared at him confused for a few moments, not really knowing what to say. then, he kissed your forehead and, with the little bit of strenght he had left in him, unwrapped his arms, stepping back. he grabbed his jacket and went to the door, but not before shooting you another sad look and saying “like i said, your date is very lucky”.

he left, heart in his hands, slowly breaking with each step.

you cancelled the date.

———

san couldn’t sleep that night, he kept tossing and turning as his mind wandered about what you were doing with your date. were you still having dinner? no, probably not since it’s like 2 am. maybe it went so well that you invited them over for coffee at your place, something that will probably lead to something else. something he didn’t even want to imagine, since it wasn’t him committing those sins.

maybe it was time to move on, after all. he wants you to be happy, truly, so if your happiness doesn’t include him, then he should at least be supportive. and in order to do that from the bottom of his heart, he should move-

*knock knock knock* he heard, coming from the door. he decided to ignore it, thinking that it was probably mingi, so he turned around and closed his eyes, pretending he was asleep.

“maybe he’s asleep, i should come back tomorrow but thank you soenghwa” he heard you say from behind the door. he never got out of bed faster, as he sprinted to the door and opened it widely.

there you stood, now dressed in a familiar oversized shirt and baggy pants. completely different from the outfit he last saw you on, but to him you still looked beautiful. you looked at him with wide eyes, as seonghwa smirked next to you.

“i’ll leave you alone” he said, before he made his way to his room and shut the door behind him.

you stood there awkwardly, avoiding his eyes. you came here with a question, but now that you had san right in front of you, thoughts were scattered all over your mind and you couldn’t say a word.

“come in” he said, sensing your internal dilemma. you nodded in response, as you entered and made your way to his unmade bed.

“did i wake you up?” you asked. san shut the door and shook his head “actually i couldn’t sleep”

“me neither” you said in a low voice.

“how was your date?” he asked, unsure of what to say. he sat next to you on the bed, looking at you while trying to decipher your expression. you turned your head to san’s bedside table, finding the small plushie you once gifted him randomly. you smiled. “i cancelled it”

“what? why?!” he asked, with surprised wide eyes. you turned back to him. “i suddenly didn’t want to go, that’s it really. so while i was tidying up my room i found this shirt” you said, fiddling with the ends of the shirt that looked a little too big on you “the one you once lent me after we got stuck in the rain that one time. i told you i would wash it and give it back, but i didn’t. why didn’t i give it back to you?”

san stared at you in silence.

“so i realized it still had your perfume, and before i knew it, i had put it on. then i started thinking about you, about us. you’re my best friend, you know? but as i was laying down on my bed, i was thinking: what if you were not? what if my dates always failed for a reason?” you continued, as your fingers reached for his. “what if the reason they always failed was because i always searched you in them? so again, before i realized i was standing in front of your apartment, but with one question in my mind”

san could feel his heart beat increase and his breath shorten.

“what will happen to us and our friendship if i told you how i feel? how i think i always felt even if i didn’t know it?” you asked, looking at him scared.

“you’re dumb” he said, loud enough for only you to hear. that didn’t surprise you, what did was the way he immediately let go of your hand in order to hug you close, bringing you closer to his body. “what will happen? how would i feel? y/n you’re dumb because that’s how i’ve been feeling for a long time now” he said, hands leaving your waist and craddling your face. san stared at you, and now you realized that his eyes looked different: they held love in them. something you always searched on random people in dating apps, yet were never able to find. instead, it has been right in front of you this whole time.

“i love you” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. finally, he thought. he finally said the words he has been keeping locked deeply inside him for years. you smiled, as your nose touched his. “i love you too, i’m sorry i just realized”

maybe it was time to give you the silver necklace he bought you on tour, since now the timing was right.

MINGI

mingi missed you, a lot. he hadn’t heard from you since you stormed out of his house a week and a half ago. he had left you a couple of texts apologizing, and even attempted calling you, but to no avail. you had disappeared, and he didn’t blame you, he was stupid enough to let you go. in fact, that’s the thing he regretted the most about the fight: not chasing after you.

so he did what he knew best: he took his misery and transformed it into work, to be precise, he wrote three songs, all about his feelings, the situation in itself and you.

three different scenarios that made him hear yunho’s voice calling him dramatic in his mind. to be honest, he knew he was being a little dramatic about the situation. he knew that you probably just needed time to cool down, and that if his apology was good enough you would forgive him in a heart beat, because, in the end, he knew you loved him. maybe not in the way he wished for, but you loved him nonetheless.

mingi stared at the ceiling in silence, wondering what were you doing while he layed on his bed feeling miserable. did you miss him too? were you also thinking about him? he was certain of one thing only: he wanted to see you. it didn’t matter to him if you opened the door or not, he needed to at least hear your voice through the door.

he checked the time: 11:47 pm, almost midnight. fuck it, he thought. he stood up and quickly got dressed in a speed record time, tied up his shoes and grabbed his keys and song notebook in the process. by 11:55 pm he was already closing the door of his car.

as mingi started driving, questions also started flooding his mind: will you hate him if he suddenly showed up? what if you had invited someone over? shouldn’t he have discussed this with one of his friends first just in case?

questions, questions, questions.

no answers.

soon enough, he found himself standing in front of your apartment door. he could easily ring the door bell, knock on the door or simply use the spare key you gave him once for emergencies. yet, he was unable to do any, frozen in place as he mentally debated on what to do.

mingi decided to do something odd, something he would have probably laughed at if he saw it in one of the movies you usually forced him to watch with you: he took out his pen and notebook, ripped off one of the pages and wrote on it. then, he slid it under the door and left.

“i’ll tell you everything -m”

———

you have always been a hopeless romantic, mingi knew that perfectly well. you believed in happy endings, and that love and friendship can win over everything. so why hasn’t he heard from you still? did you not get the note? should he leave another one? no, that would be too pushy, it was only two days ago.

questions, questions, questions.

still no answers.

mingi was sulking again, and honestly it started to worry seonghwa and san, who watched as he walked back to his room right after dinner, without saying a word during the whole night. honestly, he was just too lost in his thoughts. their pair exchanged a look, before following him.

“mingi, hold up, everything okay? you’re more… distracted than usual” seonghwa said, carefully choosing his words. mingi hummed in response, nodding as he stopped in his tracks. “yeah, there’s just a lot in my head” he answered, not looking at his friends. “let us hear it then” san said, patting his back and leading them towards the living room.

the trio sat down on the sofa they had bought a few months ago, the one you had scolded them about because it seemed very expensive and too hard to clean. they had all laughed, but soon enough realized you were right when mingi spilled a bit of sauce on it. the stain was still there.

“so? what’s wrong?” seonghwa asked once they all got comfortable. mingi sighed, looking down before he started spilling everything that had happened, from two weeks ago until now. he noticed the eldest nodding along the story, but neither of them said anything until he finished.

“when exactly did you leave this note?” san asked, fidgeting with his bracelet. “two days ago” mingi answered. san’s eyes went wide, as he muttered a small fuck before he sprinted towards the kitchen. seonghwa and mingi exchanged a look, both equally confused at their friend’s actions. after a few moments and very weird sounds that came from the kitchen, san appeared again, with a crumbled up yellow post it in his hand. he handed it to mingi.

“the hell is this? it has food stains san, gross” mingi said with a disgusted face as he barely touched the paper. “open it, i found it this morning” san said, sitting down next to him again. mingi gave his friends a strange look, before carefully opening the crumbled up piece of paper. as he read, his eyes widened in surprise.

“what time is it?!” he exclaimed. “9 pm” seonghwa answered, checking the time in his phone. mingi muttered a small fuck, before putting his shoes on, and grabbing his bag.

“i’ll be back in a while” he said, before shutting the door behind him.

seonghwa looked at san, confused. “what the hell did the paper say?” he asked. san picked it up from the floor and showed it to him:

“8 pm, our special place”.

the hand writing was yours.

———

mingi was almost sure he broke one or two speeding laws on his way to the park where he hoped you were still waiting at. he cursed san for not telling him sooner, even if he knew it wasn’t really his fault to begin with. the park wasn’t far from his apartment though, just a short 10 minute drive. as cliche as it sounds, it was the park were you both met.

at that time, around 6 years ago or so, his mind revolved around perfection, hard work, pressure, debut. so he would succumb to overwhelming feelings pretty often, that forced him to need some time alone. that’s how he found a park nearby, and specifically, one peculiar tree that caught his attention for some reason. he used to sit down under it, notebook on his lap and pen between his fingers, as he scribbled down some random thoughts that plagued his mind during hard moments. he didn’t really plan to turn his words into songs yet, it was just his way to deal with stress. he used to find these little moments very special: it was like he was reconnecting with his inner, truer self, and not the mean facade he wore in front of his soon to be members. yeah, some of them irked him, like that wooyoung guy, but he didn’t mean to be that rude all the time. so, to escape the constant pressure kq fellaz was facing in between the company walls, he found solace in a park, but specifically, he found solace under that tree.

he could remember the day he met you like it was yesterday. he remembers all the stress he was feeling, debut date coming closer and closer. everyone was on edge, from the members to the staff. he had also recently come back from morocco after successfully shooting his first music video! but he couldn’t deny it: as much as he was excited, he was already feeling a little tired. he needed some alone time, just himself with his thoughts. so he found himself walking towards his favorite spot in the park.

only to find you there, sitting down under the tree. his tree to be precise. and you were writing on a pink notebook with a fluffy pen. mingi felt like he was looking at a reflection of himself, but instead of being comforted by it, he felt annoyed. it was HIS tree after all!

“excuse me, this is my spot” he said, coming into your field of vision. you looked up to him, pausing your hand and taking an earphone off. “excuse me?”

“this is my spot” he reiterated, making you chuckle slightly. “the tree you mean? does it have your name or something?” you asked, finding the situation hilarious. he rolled his eyes in annoyance, why did nothing go his way?! “listen, i had a shitty day and i need to sit there for a while, so can you leave?”

“no, i got here first. plus there are tons of other trees here, it’s a park after all” you said, putting your earphone back on and turning your gaze to your notebook. he stayed still in his place in front of you, making you huff in annoyance at his persistence. “look dude, i am not going to move. you can either sit on the opposite side or leave, i don’t care but stop bothering me” you continued.

mingi really really reaaaally needed to be at his safe place, too overwhelmed to funcion rationally, so he rolled his eyes and sat on the opposite side of the tree.

that’s how the story started: at opposite sides of the tree. soon enough it got replaced by sitting nearby, and eventually next to each other. some times you would even bring snacks to share in silence, as you both wrote down your thoughts on your respective notebooks. once he debuted, he broke the silence for the first time, urging you to listen to his song. after that, you started talking more, about music, shows, your respective jobs and life in itself. the safe place you both found under the tree, was also found in each other, quickly realizing you often shared the same thoughts and views about the world.

the story started under a tree, and he hoped it wouldn’t end there too. he needed you to be there, because he wasn’t ready to lose not only his best friend, but also his safe place. even the tree would become stained from the pain. and he would have nothing left, just questions, questions, and more questions about different what ifs.

you weren’t there.

but mingi wasn’t about to give up anytime soon. he started running towards the direction of your apartment, forgetting that he had parked the car on the opposite direction. his legs were aching, and he felt like he was a bit out of breath, despite all the idol training he has been enduring for six years. but he kept running.

until he spot you in the distance.

“y/n!” he yelled. he saw you stop in your tracks and turn around to his direction, confused at the sudden call of your name. once you spotted him running towards you, you sprinted to him.

his body collapsed against yours, as he hugged you tightly, like you would disappear if he let you go. mingi hid his face in the crook of your neck as you wrapped your arms around his back. you could hear his quick heart beat from how close he held you, and you were sure he could hear yours too.

after a while, mingi lifted his head from your neck, and looked at you. “why are you crying?” he asked, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. “i thought you wouldn’t come, why are you crying mingi?” you asked, repeating his own actions, but on his cheeks. he giggled, he didn’t even realize he was crying. “i thought i lost you” he said, truthfully.

the park was dark, the only lights came from street lights. so, for outsiders, you probably looked like a random couple having a dramatic moment. definitely not mingi from idol group ateez and his best friend y/n reconciliating.

“i’m sorry” he whispered, locking his eyes with yours. they still held tears, that threatened to spill depending on your answer. you shook your head “no, i’m sorry mings, i shouldn’t have walked away like that. plus i didn't even give you a chance to explain”.

“i’m sorry for not showing you the songs, for not chasing you, and for being too much of a coward to not face you directly” he apologized. you hugged him again, shushing him. “i shouldn’t have pressured you to show me, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do”

mingi looked at you again, and bit his lip. “can i still show you though?”

“it’s not necessary, mingi, it’s fine real-“ you started saying before he interrupted you, taking your hand and leading you towards the same old place from before. “i want to” he said, determined.

you let him whisk you away.

———

back at the peculiar tree that was iluminated enough by a street lamp a few meters away, he sat you down at your usual spot. he sat down beside you, as he pulled out his notebook from his bag. mingi gave it to you.

“mingi, this really isn’t necessary-“ you started saying once again. “please” he interrupted, with pleading eyes. so you took his notebook and opened it on the first page. you already read that song, it was the first one he ever wrote a long while back. “read the last ones”

you turned the pages, until you found them. mingi looked at you nervously, starting to feel fidgety at the thought of you realizing his deepest secret, the only one he hid from you. he just hoped you wouldn’t hate him. he scanned your face, puffy eyes filling with tears once again as realization hit you. you turned your gaze back to him with wide, surprised eyes.

“mingi- what? wait, hold on” you stammered, as tears fell from your eyes. you quickly set his notebook aside to grab your own bag, taking out your new pink notebook, your diary. you handed it to him, saying: “open it on august 5th”

he stared at you confused, and slightly unsure too, since you’ve always been pretty secretive about what you wrote there. he found the page and read:

“august 5th.

so i realized something, that i’m almost too afraid to write even here. i’m scared that if i admit it, i’ll have to face a sad reality. i think i’m in love with my best friend, isn’t that stupid? that’s how i feel, at least. i haven’t seen him in a while because of his work, and i feel like i’m slowly losing my mind. why do i only feel complete when he’s with me? scratch that, why am i even writing this?

anyways, i’ll probably die with the secret”

“now turn to september 16th” you said, avoiding his eyes.

“september 16th.

i’m in love with my best friend. i love mingi. how insane is that? and how stupid? he is my best friend, for god’s sake. but i can’t help the way i feel, specially when he’s so annoyingly observant. like for example, the other day he noticed my pen was dying, so today he surprised me with a new fluffy pink pen. i hate him for making my heart swell at such gestures. specially because i know I KNOW that’s what best friends do.

anyways i’m not gonna use his pen because i decided i’m going to preserve it forever”

“and now, tun to november 10th” you muttered. mingi realized it was yesterday’s date.

“november 10th.

i still love him. and i fucked up. but i’m still in love with him”

he closed your notebook, turning towards you. he found you with your face on your knees, as you hugged your legs, too embarrassed to face him, despite now knowing his feelings. he loves you too, with the same devotion, with the same desperation and intensity. mingi loves you, his best friend.

“look at me, y/n” he whispered. you slowly lifted your head, hesitantly looking at him. the way you both looked at each other held more intimacy than ever. mingi slowly reached for you, bringing your face closer to his. his hold was shaky, almost unsure, this was a whole new territory. he took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

“i love you” he admitted.

too many questions, that finally got an answer.

“i love you too” you whispered.

taglist: @yoongles2025 @reallychaoticwoo

(to be added please let me know)

[welcometohellfilm]

Congrats to everyone who has been working on W2H2! 🎉 If it's alright, I'd like to ask to ask 2 questions:

Is there by chance an official ref of colors for Debbie, or is it still up to interpretation at the moment?

Would you say that your personal, real life experiences within the 10 years moving from W2H to W2H2 shifted the tone/story of the series in some way? Something that I've always been fascinated with when I started looking more into W2H was the shift in Sock's character from the original comic -> first film -> second film, and Jonathan's character from the first film -> second film.

Thank you! ✨

I actually just made some 'official'-ish colors for Debbie! Her voice actor Kaitlyn wanted something to use on a banner for conventions haha... so here you go!

2. I'm not really sure how to answer this one, haha. I mean I've definitely changed as a person over the course of making each iteration of W2H. I started the comic while I was at community college, before I went to art school. I adapted it into an animation for my graduation project. And I started W2H2 a couple years after I graduated college. So there's a good 2-3 years between each attempt at W2H I've done, haha. I think a lot of my original ideas from the comic had to change because it needed to be condensed into a short film. I didn't even GET to Jonathan yet in the comic! Some things just didn't make sense to me anymore, like the idea of Sock already having a human body count. It'd just be absurd for him to be able to hide it for so long! Plus, if I made it so that Sock has only ever entertained the idea of murder, it makes his new job that much more appealing-- it's a chance for him to really lean in to this thing he's always had to hide. Between the first and second films though, I mean... I think there's been some tonal shift, for sure (I don't know about a character shift? We'll get to that haha) But basically, when I was first thinking about W2H2, my idea was "Sock and Jonathan hang out and attempt to figure out touch physics, also there's some drama about a journal Jonathan keeps." All of the hell stuff is something that came from bouncing ideas around with my friends, Michael and Neil. I was worried that sending Jonathan to hell would be too bonkers for a "2nd episode", but we all kinda agreed that enough time had passed that the fans would probably enjoy something higher stakes, so it would be fine. (I'll give everyone a moment to realize this conversation would've been happening in 2015-16... ha.)

We also kind of thought, y'know... I have no idea how many more of these there's even gonna' be, so why not go a little bigger with this one? W2H2 is a higher stakes story than what I set out to make in the beginning, that's for sure. It is interesting to compare all of them.. the employee handbook was actually from the comic and I cut that because it wasn't helpful for W2H... but then it became helpful for W2H2, so it came back! Haha. I'm curious to know in what ways people think the characters have changed though. (And is that a good thing or a bad thing?) Especially a character like Jonathan, no one's really even seen that much of him yet, I think most of the characterization comes from fandom, or like... art I've drawn, I guess? Haha... I'm not sure! I guess Sock's a little more confident and antagonistic in this one (though he'll have his moments of hesitation... we're only at Part 1 right now!), and Jonathan has had to become a more vocal/active character, just by nature of the kind of story it is, I suppose. But yeah, I'm not sure! Happy to hear your guys' thoughts though!

[madhatterbri]

Daddy | D.P.

Summary: I was wondering if i could request a reader calling Damian Daddy during Thanksgiving dinner or while handing out presents to everyone on Christmas? 18+.

Author's Note: Starts with smut to kind of set the "omg how embarrassing would it be if you said that in front of your dad," mood. Also, I wanted to write smut. 😂🤣

Happy Monday Night RAW, babes. ❤️

Requested by: @eringobragh420

Damian Priest Masterlist

WWE Masterlist

Taglist: @theworldofotps @smallestsnarkestgirl @mrsarcherofinfamy @terrortwinunicorn @brideofinfamy @miss-kuki-nz @hotwheels1108 @new-zealand-chic @magicalbuttertarts @keytothewardy

As always, requests are open! Please let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist. ❤️

Y/N's knees were bent close to the side of the bed. Hands gripped the sheets below her. Her face laid against a pillow. Eyes partially rolled back in ecstasy.

Damian thrusted inside of her. His fingers wrapped around her waist. The tips of two of his fingers played with her clit. He cursed as she tightened around him.

"You quiet tonight," the New York accent noticed.

She blushed darkly. They were staying at a hotel for a few days. Thanksgiving was the next day, and they had plans to see her family. Y/N didn't want to wake up the neighbors.

"That simply won't do. I want them to know who makes you feel this good,"

"Y-you do," she stammered weakly.

"I need more than that," he told her flatly.

Damian pulled out much to her dismay. He arched her back. When he thrusted back in, he went deeper. His fingers toyed with her bundle of nerves. "Who makes you feel like this?"

"Damian," she moaned louder.

Still not content with her answer, he pulled back just enough so that only the head of his dick was inside of her. Damian thrusted forward roughly. The bed under them scraped loudly against the floor.

Y/N clenched around him. "Daddy!"

"That's my good girl,"

When they finished, Damian took care of her. He slid under the covers with her and kissed her temple. She laid her head on his chest. His heartbeat started to cause her to fall asleep.

A chuckle of his caused her to stir a little. "Make sure not to say that at the dinner table tomorrow. That would be something. How embarrassing,"

She hummed in agreement and fell asleep.

🦃

Y/N's parents loved Damian. He was a good man who was madly in love with their daughter. What wasn't there to like? They invited him to Thanksgiving dinner when they first met him months ago.

After saying grace at the table, they decided to dig in. Her nieces and nephews sat around Damian at the table. They wanted to ask him all the questions about working as a wrestler.

"Alright, guys, enough. Let Damian eat, and then he will answer all your questions," Y/N told them. The kids complained but obliged to her request. Damian whispered a 'thank you' to her.

"Of course. Can you please pass the mashed potatoes, Daddy? Those are my favorite,"

The chatter at the table stopped. Utensils clicked against the dishes. Damian was motionless at Y/N's slip up. The bowl of mashed potatoes rested in his hands. She didn't seem to notice her own mistake.

"Oh, thanks, babe," she smiled. "These are my grandma's recipes. The absolute best mashed potatoes you will ever have,"

Y/N finally noticed the family staring at her in shock.

"Damn sis," one of her siblings laughed. "I didn't know you were like that now,"

"What do you mean?" Y/N asked.

Before anyone could answer, her youngest niece beat them to the punch. "Mommy, I thought that Grandpa was her daddy. Is that man her daddy now?"

The table erupted in laughter. Y/N and Damian blushed.

"I guess at certain times they are," Y/N's brother answered. The table laughed again. Even her father chuckled some as he cut the slice of turkey on his plate.

Damian and Y/N looked at each other with a blush. They knew they were going to hear this story for the rest of the lives.

[almostempty]

What’s Love Got to Do with It

(oberyn x f!reader)  wc: 4.6k | other fics 

note: hey y’all it’s me ya gurl, here to defile another prompt with a silly idea <3 Sooo, from the three brain cells that brought you fuckboy!joel and divorced dad rock dilf!joel 🫡i now humbly present …. Frat bro Oberyn, Aka The Red Viper, aka the Prince of Pong, aka the Slut of Delta Psi (i did steal the frat name from the film Neighbors—in which they do sing a line from Creed in their frat chant, so in some twisted way, they’re kind of all connected right??) 

I fear this may have just been funny to me so feel free to skip, but thank you to everyone who tolerates my shenanigans <3. 

ANYWAY, The lovely @baronessvonglitter bestowed upon me Oberyn x What’s Love Got to Do with It for fucktober (happy belated bday babe) but naturally, i made it weird. Thanks to @sunshinehaze1 for reminding me that modern AUs exist when I got scared of the GOT universe and to @auterdelabre for reminding me that the answer is always fuckboy. Don’t blame them for anything else.

Summary: You attend a fraternity toga party, and you catch the eye of Delta Psi’s notorious Red Viper. He shows you how he got the nickname and then he shows you something else he’s known for. 

tags/warnings: explicit 18+ smut, alcohol/partying, gratuitous flirting, piv, fuckboy behavior aka on to the next one, infidelity, i couldn’t bring myself to write his dialogue in frat bro™ –aka i didn’t fully commit to the bit bc that man just had to be smooth and had to fuck no matter what universe i put him in, apologies if that ruins your immersion in my pwp, per usual: no y/n, f!reader is able bodied otherwise no specifics, unprotected piv as if it’s no biggie because it’s fiction (don’t do that irl), no beta/limited proofreading sorry for all mistakes 

“Oh my god, that’s him!” Your best friend shouts into your ear as you walk down the sidewalk. You blend into the sea of toga-clad college kids, sandals slapping against the pavement. Liv leans on you, pointing out the guy she’s talking about. You can hear the music pouring out into the street and people inside yelling and chanting over someone doing a keg stand or something equally as exciting and alcohol-related, you assume. 

The guy she pointed out is leaning casually against the banister, letting some ripped blond dude entertain him on the porch. “That’s the guy your roommate was talking about?” you question your friend. Liv agrees with a smile as you walk towards the front steps. 

Everyone else on the porch looks like a frat bro wrapped in a wrinkly bedsheet, but for some reason, he seems almost godlike. He’s luminous under the warm lights. As if he knew you were checking him out, he turns his head just as you walk past, and his eyes sweep over you, making your face hot. Something sparks between you before he turns away, taking a swig of his drink. 

Liv had given you a rundown on what to expect at your first Delta Psi party. You had argued that you knew what college parties were like. You transferred this quarter as a senior, and you just didn’t have Greek life at your other school or your best friend to convince you to go out. But now, you’re here, dressed up and entering a party that really does feel a little more intense than the ones back at your small-town university. 

Liv’s roommate had given you the rundown on the guys she knew in the fraternity, but you didn’t pay much attention to her descriptions. You figured there was no way a Brad, Dylan, Connor, or a Brent would actually be hot. And then, when she started with the ones with nicknames, you completely checked out after Viper and Rooster. It has to defy the laws of nature for a frat bro that goes by Rooster to be able to find your clit—even if he IS hot. 

Yet, now you realize you might be eating your words because you get it. You were too quick to judge, whoops. “Which one was that?” you ask in Liv’s ear as you both make your way through the people sloshing drinks and dancing. 

“Viper!” 

You can’t help the immediate grimace that emerges on your face. “That’s so douchey!” you shout back over the noise before she pulls you down a hall toward that kitchen. She leans in close to your ear, telling you that her roommate swears she got the best head of her life from him. “No fucking way,” you argue. 

“Way,” she smirks back. “He’s got a girlfriend now, though. They’re, like, totally in love, it’s all over social media.” She mocks puking at the idea, and you share a laugh.

You explore the party together. The house is huge; one room on the main floor is blasting EDM, and another is blasting top 40 hits. There are a couple of beer pong tables in the backyard and a detached garage filled with stoners on old couches giggling to themselves. You know that Liv is itching to park her ass on one of those sofas and find a girl or guy to whom she can woo with her French inhale and makeout with for the rest of the night. 

But, she’s a loyal ass bitch who wouldn’t abandon you. You circle back through the house. You spend a little while dancing together and taking your time to see if there’s anyone else who catches your eye. Nobody really sticks out to you in the first room until you catch his eyes again. You have to do a double-take as you circle your waist and roll your body against Liv. 

He’s semi-shrouded in the corner; with the dim lighting and the packed house, it would be easy to miss the two of them altogether. But when the girl clinging to him turns around to grind her ass against him, he locks eyes with you, and you swear that fucker winks at you before a group of girls prance into the room, shouting oh my god, it’s our song! You try to shake it off. You were definitely just seeing things with the lights. 

You signal to Liv, and she follows you into the other room. You dance together a bit longer. She offers you a swig from her rhinestone-encrusted flask, but you turn her down, staying sober tonight. You feel euphoric enough with the strobe lights and the thrumming bass from the EDM remixes blasting in the room. 

You turn down a few wasted white dudes who try to dance up on the two of you. Too drunk. Not your type. Too handsy. You’re not afraid to punch a man in the throat or the nuts if they don’t get the hint, but they back off when you give them a gentle shove and a shake of your head. The most recent suitor is turning and scoping for another girl to approach when you see him again. 

He’s moving towards you, looking right at you, but there’s no girl on his arm–or crotch, now. For some reason, it makes you feel too hot. You’re sweating from the dancing anyway, so you ignore the electric look in his eye that makes your clit twitch and grab Liv’s arm to make a dash for the backyard to get some fresh air. 

You debrief with each other and come to an agreement. You tell Liv to do her thing, urging her to head towards the couch with the skater dude wearing the toga made from a dinosaur patterned sheet and the high-top vans. She agrees to text you if she plans to relocate or wants to leave before you finish taking another lap around the party. 

You sort of lie to her, claiming someone inside caught your eye. They did, but you aren’t planning to do anything about it. Instead, you part ways and head back through the house, past the pledge posing as a bouncer at the front door, and onto the front porch. The music is still loud, but it’s quieter out front. People still trickle in and out of the party. You stare out at the night sky, searching for the moon. In your own little world, you’re basking in your own peace. 

“I haven’t seen you here before,” a rich, velvety voice washes over your shoulder. It should make you jerk away, give you goosebumps, and raise your hackles. But, instead, the interruption stirs liquid heat in your core and makes your nipples hard. Because it’s him. 

You turn your head and confirm. He’s so close to you. 

“You know every girl here?” you challenge him. 

“I know the ladies and gentlemen that pique my curiosity,” his voice is so smooth. He’s a charmer, for sure. He offers you a drink, holding out two plastic cups in one hand. The size of his hand does make you tingly, but his smile falters when you shoot him one of your signature dirty looks. 

Before he can ask about the look, you take one of the cups, give him a cloyingly sweet smile, and pour it out over the railing into the grass below. The tail of his brow quirks, and he gives you a sly smile that widens into a grin and a full-chested laugh. “Oops,” you mock. 

“You’re a bold woman,” he muses, “I like that.” 

He doesn’t back down after you toss out his drink. He doesn’t take it as a rejection. He understands when you explain you don’t take open drinks from strangers at a frat party, but you roll your eyes hard when he gloats about not needing tricks or drugs to find a lover. 

He banters with you as he downs the remaining drink. He’s quick, with sharp wit and a devious smile. You can’t keep your eyes off his exposed chest, his arms, his neck, his eyes. It’s still confusing how he can look so regal, whereas everyone else in the party looks a little…goofy? Cliche? He pulls you back to the present, asking for your name before he gives you his. 

“They call me ‘the Red Viper,’” he gives you a provocative grin like he knows exactly how hot he looks, even with a bedsheet draped over his shoulder. 

You play into his hand, “Is that some kinda of euphemism?” Feeding his ego with a suggestive arch of your brow. Maybe you’re bold, but you don’t think he’s the type to be deterred by a confident woman. In fact, it seems to make him glow even brighter.

His voice lowers, dripping with an enticing challenge, “Are you looking to find out?” he asks. 

His jaw quirks, and you’re mesmerized watching him suck at his lower lip. It looks so perfectly plump and kissable, curling into a smirk as his eyes gleam with mischief. “Come,” he beckons for you to follow him deeper into the party. 

“I thought you had a girlfriend,” you say stiffly, remembering what Liv had said as you walked in. He looks at you curiously before shaking his head lightly. 

“You mean Cora? From earlier? She’s not my girlfriend. We were just dancing.” 

“No,” you shake your head, “I heard it’s all over social media. That you’re loved up.” 

“Oh, so you’ve heard of me?” he gives you that cocky smile that absolutely shouldn’t work but somehow makes you feel warm like you’re laying on the warm sand on a beach listening to the waves crashing. You don’t say anything else, and he leans in a little closer, “What’s love got to do with it?” he asks huskily. Dangerously. 

It makes you shudder with something warm and twisted. 

“Now,” he guides you gently but firmly, “Come.” You need him to stop saying it like an order before you do. 

You let him walk you through the party. Weaving through the boisterous crowds. They part easily for him, clearing a path like he’s royalty. 

“They call me ‘the Red Viper’ because I’m lethal at any game involving a red Solo cup.” He murmurs it into your ear like it’s a sexy secret. 

You laugh brightly at that, giving him a gentle shove. “That’s the lamest thing I’ve ever heard!” 

He gives you a coy shrug. “It’s the truth.” He leads you into the backyard, towards the beer pong tables. “I’ll show you,” he says just for you to hear. The string lights illuminate the yard in soft light; however, the mood is anything but romantic, with the drunk cheering college kids taking their drinking games very seriously. 

You watch, amused, as one team high-fives each other over their trick shot. At another table, both teams heatedly argue about “house rules.” 

“It’s the prince of pong!” one of his fraternity brothers shouts across the lawn. He gives you the most dramatic I told you so glance, and you mouth “lame” back at him. He calls ‘next game,’ and as if he were their lord, one table immediately clears out, forfeiting in a demonstration of fealty. 

“Ladies first,” he offers once he’s set up all the cups to his liking. He’s so arrogant about it, and it shouldn’t turn you on, but it absolutely does. 

You grin across the table at him. “You’re on.” 

He’s merciful at first. You land a few cups, giving you enough confidence to talk shit and tease him. But it rapidly becomes apparent that he’s a man of his word as he easily picks off every cup on your end of the table with precision.  

Despite your rapid descent towards a loss, you eat up his charm. His magnetic energy. He makes the rest of the party disappear when he looks at you. It makes your heart tingle and your pussy flutter. He’s a gracious winner, only gloating a little as he reracks the table and offers it up to other party-goers. 

“Alright, Viper, you won. You can retain your title.” You admit defeat as he slinks up close to you, ushering you along to the side of the house, only a few steps away but more secluded from the rest of the party. 

“And now, will you allow me to claim my prize?” he asks in his smoky, deep voice. 

Despite his clear intentions, you feign confusion as he wraps one wide hand around your waist and tilts your chin towards his face with the other. “I didn’t know we were playing for stakes,” you smile brashly. Your skin blazes under his touch and his seductive gaze as his eyes drop to your mouth. 

He starts to dip towards you, but you swerve away from him. It’s on the tip of your tongue to ask again if he’s in a relationship. He growls softly, almost a purr, next to your ear. “What’s wrong, my lady?” he murmurs. The intimacy of it is heady, and your surroundings fade. 

You want to take whatever he’s offering, no questions, so instead you whisper, “Tell me your real name.”

He sighs softly before giving in and telling you his name. 

“Oberyn,” you repeat back, “that’s unique.” 

He starts muttering about how he’s an international student, but you’ve got all the info you needed. Now you don’t have to add a guy named Viper to your mental list of hookups. 

“I like it,” you cut him off before slotting your mouth against his and making up for ducking out of his last attempt at a kiss with your eagerness. He wraps his arm around you, and you’re transported. One large hand presses against your lower back, urging your hips toward his, and the other cradles your jaw, giving you a sense of stability as he matches your ferocity. 

You briefly wonder if you’d have melted if he wasn’t holding you so tightly before your thoughts are consumed by the sensation of his lips against yours and his tongue running along yours. It’s not a kiss you would’ve expected from a frat guy. It’s romantic and passionate, and you feel your body rolling against his, caught up in the sensation and intensity. 

You keep going, letting yourself enjoy the moment, eating up the flavor of him, the scent of him, and the throbbing intensifying between your legs. You slip one of your hands along the back of his neck into his soft hair, and he groans into your mouth. It makes your knees weak. 

You chase his mouth as he pulls back and looks into your heavy-lidded eyes. Sharing the hot air between you, it feels like a current is looping through your bodies, buzzing with need. 

“Let’s go upstairs,” he urges in a gravelly whisper. You can feel him hardening against you. His hand on your back is firm, keeping you flush, pelvis to pelvis, making you nearly dizzy. However, his hand on your jaw is gentle, brushing his thumb along your cheek sweetly. You still can’t help goading just a little. 

“What for?” you ask playfully. 

“To fuck.” 

It makes your cheeks hot. Maybe there should be red flags popping up in your mind, but you don’t care. He likes a bold woman, and you like a direct man. 

“Unless you’d rather do it in the grass here,” he tilts his head toward the ground. You act like you’re considering the option seriously, making him laugh before he releases you from his arms. “Don’t tease,” he says with a severe look, “It wouldn’t bother me.” 

Me either, you consider before deciding not to say that part aloud. You tell him to take you to a real bed, and he does. Swiftly guiding you into the house and up the stairs, past the pledge guarding the rooms, and into his bedroom. He spins around, pinning you against the door for another searing kiss. It’s more urgent this time. He’s quickly moving to your neck, trailing open-mouthed kisses down your tender skin as you both greedily run your hands along each other’s bodies. 

Before you can get your hands under his toga, he’s detaching from you and sinking to his knees. He moves efficiently, bunching up your toga and asking you to hold it. Then he’s hovering his hot mouth over your mound before kissing you over your lacey panties. 

“Mmm,” he hums into you and traces the crease of your thighs with one hand, following the line until he’s softly running his fingers along the edge of your panties, the tips of his fingers barely dipping beneath the hem as he moves towards your core. You watch, staring down with your mouth parted as he holds your gaze. 

He teases you, running his fingertips along your seam over the soaked fabric, tapping and teasing at your swollen clit through the fabric as he watches your needy expression morph into frustration. You shift, spreading your legs wider, but he stops you with a large hand on each thigh. 

“Hold still,” he orders, and you feel compelled to listen. He pulls your underwear down and off of you, then hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, spreading your cunt open. “That’s better.” 

You can’t tell if he’s talking to himself or to you. You don’t have a chance to ask before he’s burying his face into your soft, wet pussy. Your breath hitches at the sensation and one of your hands flies out to grab at the door frame to steady you, while the other one digs into Oberyn’s hair. 

He’s unbothered by your dramatics. Oberyn moves with enthusiasm, drawing his tongue along your slit and pressing into your sex with his jaw. His facial hair tickles at your tender skin deliciously and his nose grazes over your clit as if his face were molded to maximize your pleasure. He changes his strategy, mouthing at your clit and sweeping his tongue over it like he’s making out with it, with the same passion that he kissed you with outside and a moment ago. 

You can feel it starting to build. Your hip flexors straining and thighs starting to tremble as your breathing gets quicker and more shallow. Closer and closer and closer. He’s perceptive and diligent. Repeating the same tricks that make you moan and dig your fingers into his hair. 

You’re stuck on the precipice, so close but not quite there. Your eyes roam around the dimly lit room, the bed, the bookshelf, the tapestry pinned to the wall, the collection of cologne bottles lined up on the desk, the mirror on top of the desk–pointing right at the bed. 

It starts to frustrate you. Not the decor choices, but the tension and the building pressure. You squirm slightly, hoping the smallest adjustment will somehow bring everything into a sharper focus. You let your eyes close, letting the roar of the party downstairs fade, focusing on the pressure and warmth of Oberyn’s mouth. 

More, more, more. 

It’s all you can think as Oberyn stays dedicated to getting you off on his tongue. He sucks firmly at your clit before releasing you with a slick sound. He hovers, mouth fanning warm air over your core looking up at you. His eyes are lit with hunger.  

“More?” he asks in his deep, rich voice. 

You can’t tell if you were chanting out loud or if he’s somehow reading your mind. “Please,” you respond with a needy edge, “more.” You catch the sparkle in his eye and the flash of a grin. He works you up again, towards the brink, relishing in your responses as you whine with need as he resumes holding you in a purgatory of pleasure.

Mercifully, he does give you more. Oberyn grips your thigh with one hand, steadying you, while he swipes two fingers along the length of your pussy once, twice, coating them in your arousal before plunging them inside of you. The increased pressure and friction from his fingers pumping into you causes you to moan. It’s a lower register than your breathy panting from earlier, layered with satisfaction as you can feel the anticipation starting to crest. 

“Don’t stop,” you beg, “I’m so close.” 

He doesn’t stop, groaning at your words, rumbling against you. That snaps the tension and you cry out his name and a string of curses as your orgasm hits. He doesn’t slow down when your cunt contracts around his fingers and he doesn’t lose focus when you shake and writhe against mouth. Not until you’re pulling him off of you, oversensitive and wrung out.  

Oberyn stands, wiping at his chin before pulling you in close for another breathtaking kiss. He walks you back toward the bed and you fall into it, pulling him with you. You tangle together, frantically, you want him inside of you now. He laughs softly against your hot neck, sensing your frustration. 

“Shh,” he murmurs as you huff with defeat. He moves deftly, braced over you with one arm, and freeing his cock with the other. Your hands stroke up and down his shoulders and back, and you hook one leg around his hip, encouraging him. “You want me to fuck you now?” he asks and you whisper a yes that turns into a gasp as he runs his tip through your soaked center. “And how do you want it?”

“Hard.” 

“Yeah,” he agrees, sinking into you deeper and deeper, and pulling back, all the way out, then all the way in. “Fuck,” he says to himself as he sets a quick pace, slaming his hips into yours making the bedframe creak with every thrust. If the noise from the party didn’t drown everything else out, you might be embarrassed to have strangers over hear, but you would be surprised if anyone could hear a thing. And, even if you were louder than the party, you could care less about being caught as Oberyn fucks you into the mattress. 

“Harder,” you goad him, hoping for more. To your horror he pulls out of you completely, but you swiftly find yourself flipped onto your stomach as he lifts your hips and enters you from behind. You press back, meeting his thrusts, bouncing off of his hips until he presses his palm between your shoulder blades. He forces your chest into the mattress, holding you still so he can fuck you like he means it, with enough force that all you can do brace yourself and ball your fists, twisting the bedding between your fingers. 

With your cheek against the bed you can watch your reflection in the mirror. It’s hot, even with your togas draped and bunched up, you look good together. It makes you grin. He catches you looking and turns, meeting your eyes in the mirror before watching your bodies. He grips your hips firmly and you can barely keep your eyes open to watch as he continues. 

He overwhelms you with his stamina, keeping up a pace that has your mind feeling blissfully fuzzy. He says something else before folding over you and slipping his hand around towards your clit, determined to feel you come around his cock. You’re so close already, it’s only a moment, a few more thrusts, before shuddering beneath him. He tries to fuck you through it, but you clench and constrict around him so tightly that he pulls out while you’re still moaning. 

You can hear the slick wet sounds as he strokes himself, cursing under his breath again, before you feel the warmth as he comes across the swell of your ass and your fluttering cunt. You sink, dropping your hips and relaxing onto the bed while he catches his breath. Oberyn squeezes at your thighs, offering praise you don’t quite hear, then he’s slipping off the bed. He cleans you up with a towel, but you remain still for a little longer, enjoying the satisfaction and the sweet ache from the intensity. 

“Take your time,” he tells you, leaning down to press a kiss to your shoulder. It’s gentle. You murmur a thanks at him before breaking into an airy giggle. It makes your ribcage shake, bouncing slightly on the mattress, realizing that Liv is going to die when you tell her you can confirm her roommates story. Oberyn doesn’t question your reaction. 

He pauses to readjust his toga and his hair in the mirror. Once seemingly satisfied, he turns back towards you, watching you sit up. “I’ll see you out there,” he says with a smile before he slips out of the room. 

You linger for just a little. Allowing yourself the privacy to revel in the sweet satisfaction of the post-sex chemicals flowing through your body. You let yourself grin while you check your phone to see where Liv is at. 

You take another minute, using the mirror to fix your own appearance, aiming for a slightly less obvious version of I just got railed, before meeting your own eyes. For a sobering second you remember you didn’t get a real answer about if he has a girlfriend. He sure as fuck doesn’t act like it, you decide. You shake off the thought. 

He might be a frat bro, he might be a piece of shit, all you know for sure is that he is hot, a good kisser, and he knew how to make you come. Three things you didn’t think you’d find in one guy under this roof. You give yourself a final onceover before heading out of the room and down the stairs. 

You don’t see Oberyn in the first few rooms you pass. You keep looking; he couldn’t have gone far. You’re barely finished that thought when you spot him in the kitchen. The sight makes you stumble, shooting a hand out to the wall to catch your balance. 

He’s leaning casually, with his hip against the counter, as a starry-eyed girl looks up at him, giggling flirtatiously, as she lays a hand along his bicep. 

It’s in slow motion. The way he looks at her hand, the way his eyes trail along her arm, over the curve of her breasts, and down her legs before flitting back to her face with that same sinful smirk you just fell for. 

Your shoulders drop. It’s not like you were planning your wedding or that you even thought a date was on the table—but you didn’t think he’d be on to the next girl before you made it down the stairs. 

You start to recenter yourself, reaching to check your phone again before you look for Liv. 

He sees you before you can mind your business and plan your next move. Catching your eye through the doorway. Before you can formulate a reaction, you’re stuck, held in his gaze. He winks at you again, only this time there’s no question if you were making it up. He winked at you and despite everything, it makes your whole body tingle. 

“I saw that!” Liv shouts into your ear, wrapping an arm around you. “You have to tell me what the fuck that was about. But first can we please get pancakes or cheese fries?”

You don’t bother turning back for a second glance as you follow Liv toward the front door. 

You must understand though the touch of your hand

Makes my pulse react

That it's only the thrill of boy meeting girl

Opposites attract

It's physical

Only logical

You must try to ignore that it means more than that

Oh, oh, oh

What's love got to do, got to do with it?

…..

tags for babes, but no presh:

@lovely-vamp-princess

@gothcsz

@auteurdelabre

@adoreyouusugar

@swankyorange

@itwasntimethatdidit40

@ivoryandflame

@magneticecstasy 

[evervigilantnightshade]

The Line - Part One

Reader and John have always straddled the line between playful flirting and taking things further. However when they are forced into a safe house and a secret comes out will they be able to save what they were heading for or is all lost.

Reader x John Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Laswell, Original characters.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, flirting, a bit of light smut. Death and killing on missions. Father of reader's death mentioned. It will get pretty angsty for a bit.

Authors note: I used to write on Tumblr in a different fandom for a long time and then left. Now I'm back under a different name and I hope you like what I have to say.

Y/N couldn’t remember a point in her life that wasn’t geared towards being in the military. It ran in her family, going back generations. Her father was one of the most famous marksmen spoken amongst anyone in service. He was made for combat and dreamed of having a son to follow in his footsteps. 

When his first child was born he held his wife’s hand and admired her strength as she delivered their addition to their family. The first moment he looked into Y/N’s eyes he fell madly in love, no longer caring about succession. All he wanted was happy, healthy children. He was then gifted with 4 more girls. 

As she grew up though Y/N showed vast interest in what her father did. Always asking questions, begging him to teach her how to shoot a gun. She kept herself in shape and made sure to do well in school. 

When she turned 15 she told her father she wanted to join the military when she turned 18. He sat for a while saying nothing and she started to feel a bit anxious. 

“Y/N sweetheart can I ask you why you want to join?” He finally spoke

She paused to think about her answer, wanting to convey exactly how she felt.

“It feels right. I want to do something with my life that matters, I want to feel like I’m a part of something bigger than myself. I see the camaraderie you have with the men in your unit and I want that too. It’s in my blood dad, just like it’s in yours.” 

“You do understand that as a female it will be a long hard journey for you?” 

“If I work hard enough though and I’m a good soldier it shouldn’t matter though right?” 

“Oh sweetheart I wish for you that was true. However, almost all the time all they will see is that you're a girl and deem you less than themselves.” 

“Well I’ll just have to prove them wrong. And besides I won’t be doing it for them.” She said with determination in her voice. 

He sat for a bit longer and then reached over and put his hand on hers. 

“Whatever you need I’ll be there.” He said with a smile. 

“I want to do this on my own though.” She explained. “Not saying I don’t want you to be there for me. I just don’t want to rely on your reputation and the family name. I want to prove to myself and to you that I can do this.”

Her dad understood but was still worried for his daughter. 

She joined up at 18 just like she said she would and despite her determination her father had been right. It was hard for her, and there were times when all she wanted to was give up but that wasn’t in her. So she fought harder, trained longer and pushed herself to limits she didn’t even know she had. She was top of all her classes and was the best shooter on base. 

In fact she was so good that she was asked to join a special program in the UK for top marksmen. Again she pushed herself to the limit but it paid off. Her reputation sored and eventually she was recruited by Captain Price to join his team. The 141 became her brothers in arms and the family she always admired her father for. 

The last time she saw her dad he told her how proud he was of her. She did what she set out to do, all on her own skill and determination. He now felt that the part of him that wanted a successor was fulfilled in ways he could only have dreamed of. 

He died of a heart attack 6 months later and it destroyed Y/N.

Now a year later, Y/N was laying in the mud high above the target zone, the ever vigilant sniper. Ghost was positioned opposite her, giving them both a complete view of any threats that may arise and compromise the mission. 

This year had been rough for the 141. They had been chasing the same target that seemed to elude them no matter what they did. The target was a man named Bako, a once low-level member of a drug empire now turned kingpin. Using violence and betrayal he has taken out anyone or anything that has been in his way. He has plagued the team for far too long and has become an increasingly dangerous threat. 

After all the escapes, near misses and wrong information the team finally got confirmation that he would be here, at this warehouse, meeting with his high-level partners. The plan was to bring the building down on top of them all, ending this once and for all. 

Soap, Gaz and Captain Price were currently approaching the target area quietly in a small boat. Y/N watched through her scope as the three men climbed out of the boat and made their way quietly across a small patch of grass that separated the water from the warehouse. The first thing she noticed is that Price had switched out his usual bucket hat for a baseball cap. Y/N’s core clenched, remembering a deal they had made a few months back.

They had been on a hard mission that had kept them away from the base for three months. After they all had showered, slept, and decompressed Soap was convinced they all needed a good old fashion BBQ to let off some steam. Kate agreed so her wife and her decided to host at their place.

Ghost and Soap were sitting at the picnic table while Y/N sat on a chair in the sun, wearing a pair of shorts and a v neck white t-shirt, trying to get some colour on her unusually pale legs. Beside her Gaz was going on about a girl he had invited that he was excited about. Granted he had only spent one drunken night with her before their last deployment. 

“She’s smoking hot Y/N, and smart.” 

Y/N glanced up over at him, shielding her eyes from the sun despite wearing sunglasses. 

“And you're sure about this one? Cause the last girl you were seeing went a bit crazy when you had to leave on missions. She called the Mexican embassy trying to find you. We weren’t even in Mexico.” Y/N reminded him

“Or what about the girl who was convinced you were sleeping with Bells and then tried to pull her hair out at the bar?” Soap chimed in and Y/N reached up and rubbed the side of her head.

“Took me by surprise. She was lucky I wasn’t armed.” 

“Yeah or that one…” Ghost started but Kyle interrupted him. 

“This one is different. I have a good feeling about her.” He smiled at them and Y/N felt a bit bad for him. 

“I’m sure she’s lovely Gaz.” 

He nodded at her looking proud. She chuckled thinking about the ways Ghost would intimidate her without even trying. 

“Ahhh good times” she mumbled and was about to take a swig of her beer when she froze the bottle half way to her lips. 

Price had just walked in wearing form fitting jeans, a slightly tight, black shirt and an army green baseball hat. He looked fucking amazing. Y/N bit her bottom lip and shook her head. 

Beside her Gaz waved his hand in front of her face and she looked up to see him, Ghost and Soap all looking at her, grinning.

“You ok there Bells?” Ghost grunted smugly.

“Fuck off” Y/N said with a grin despite being slightly embarrassed at getting caught drooling over their Captain. “And in this moment, if you're going to use my call sign, use the whole thing, dickhead.”

“Apologies Belladonna” Ghost said and then raised his beer which Y/N reciprocated. 

She took a long sip of her beer to wash down the heat that was creeping up her neck as well as creeping downwards. 

After putting his beer in the cooler, Price grabbed one and headed over to the group and nodded at them hello. Everyone either nodded back or mumbled a hello. 

“You four are unusually quiet.” Price said reaching over and using the picnic table to pop the cap off his beer. 

“We were just asking Bells…” Soap started but Y/N interrupted. 

“We were actually just talking about the new girl Gaz invited to the BBQ.” 

“You invited a girl here?” Price said and then chuckled. “Is this one, mentally stable at least?” 

Y/N got up, deciding to grab another beer, making a point to walk by Soap and smack him on the back of the head causing Ghost’s shoulders to shake while he silently chuckled. 

Price glanced over at Y/N while Gaz started telling him about his new girl. 

He almost fully turned around to watch as she bent over to grab her beer out of the cooler but then stopped himself. 

“Damn those are some dangerous shorts” He thought to himself and felt his jeans becoming a little tighter. 

He turned back at Gaz who was just staring at him. 

“Jesus Christ, the two of you.” Gaz shook his head and then walked over to talk to Kate. 

Price went over and sat at the picnic table. 

“What’s he on about now?” Price asked and Soap and Ghost exchanged glances. 

“No clue sir.” Ghost said, not wanting to be the one to point out the obvious.

The conversation naturally flowed then into football and the comment was forgotten. About an hour that consisted of chit chat and laughs, Kyle’s new girl showed up with a friend. 

Immediately Y/N got a bad feeling about them. 

Nancy was perfectly manicured, with her makeup and hair done up a bit much for a backyard BBQ. She had on a pair of white capris with a blue sleeveless blouse and wedges. Her friend looked like a copy and paste version of her. 

“Hey everyone,” Gaz announced to the group. “This is Nancy and her friend Becca.” 

For an awkward moment, no one said anything or made a move to introduce themselves to the girls. It was Kate that broke the silence and walked over. 

“Nice to meet you two. I’m Kate. Kyle has told us all so much about you Nancy.” 

“Awe he’s just the best isn’t he?” Nancy said, grabbing on to Gaz’s arm. 

“We certainly think so.” Kate said with a forced smile. “Do you girls want a drink? We have beer in the cooler.” She gestured over to the cooler on the deck. 

“Oh we don’t actually drink beer.” Becca said with her nose scrunched up. 

“Yeah we are wine girlies.” Nancy said in a playful tone.

“Um ok, yeah we have some wine in the house. Do you prefer white or red?” Kate asked. 

“Definitely white.” Nancy said looking over at Becca who nodded. “Yeah we’ll take white.” 

Beside Y/N she heard Ghost mumble “Gods give me strength.” Which caused her to smile. 

She then looked over at Price who was looking at her with a grin on his face and she grinned back. 

“You better go introduce yourself Cap. You are the leader of the team after all.” Y/N teased and he cocked his head at her with an amused look on his face. 

“Only if you come with me.” He retorted and Y/N laughed 

“You’d have a better chance of convincing Ghost to join you.” 

“Don’t even ask sir.” Ghost said, getting up and walking in the opposite direction of the girls just to be sure.

“Go on then.” Y/N sighed and stood up motioning at the girls.

Price stood up and then smacked Soap lightly on the shoulder. 

“You too Soap.”

He groaned but stood up reluctantly.  

“Play nice you two.” He warned and they made their way over to where they were standing.

Gaz’s face lit up seeing them approach.

“Nancy, this is my Captain.” He said proudly. 

Price smiled back and then extended his hand.

“Pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh Captain! That’s a fancy title.” Nancy said and then placed her hand in Price’s facing downward as if expecting him to kiss the back of her hand.

Instead he awkwardly shook her hand while holding on to the ends of her fingers.

“Call me John.” 

“And this is Johnny and Y/N.” Gaz said motioning to where her and Soap were standing.

Nancy looked over at them and then stuck her hand out the same way to Soap, while completely ignoring Y/N

“So many handsome men on your team.” Nancy said while looking over at Becca who was shaking Price’s hand.

“I agree.” Becca said with a smile. 

Y/N rolled her eyes and then turned around without saying a word, walking over to Ghost.

“How was that?” He asked and she just knew he was grinning under his black surgical mask.

“When Gaz makes his way over to you for introductions, and he will, do me a favour and scare them enough so they leave yeah?” 

Ghost chuckled beside her.

“You a bit jealous there Bells?” 

Y/N looked over at Becca who was currently squeezing Soap's bicep.She watched as Price took a slight step back to avoid the same treatment. 

“Got no reason to be.” She said with a satisfied smirk. 

“Because you’re pretty confident those girls aren’t Price’s cup of tea?” 

“Why would that matter to me? He’s a single man who is extremely good looking, and has a nice… everything.” She let out a sign at the last word causing Ghost to audibly laugh. 

“Oh love you got it bad.” But then his voice turned serious.  “Hope you know what you’re doing.” He said cautiously. 

“What does that mean?” She said a slight frown forming on her face.

“Just don’t want ya to get hurt is all.” He said with a shrug.

She took a second to swallow the lump in her throat and then plastered on a fake smile.

“Hey you know what I always say. Can't get hurt if you don’t catch feelings.”

“So it’s purely physical then?” He asked, turning now to face her.

“Of course.” She replied but they both knew she was lying. 

“Y/N…” he started but he was interrupted by Gaz calling out to him.

“Well, it looks like it’s your turn.” she said relieved as she slowly turned and started making her way over to Kate. 

“Don’t you fucking leave me.” Ghost hissed 

“Sorry I think Kate’s calling me, I think she needs help with the grill.” Y/N called over her shoulder and then laughed. 

“You know there are people out there who are scared of me.” He called out after her

“And I’m not one of them!” She called back.

Y/N watched out of the corner of her eye as Nancy and Becca were introduced to Ghost and he made no movement to reach out and take their limp hands. 

When they started grilling him about his surgical mask he stayed silent but when Becca reached over and squeezed his arm, telling how beautiful his eyes were, it was his breaking point and he turned and walked away without a word. Y/N heard Gaz say something about Ghost being shy and Becca giggled.

“I guess we’ll just have to break him out of his shell.” She said in a high pitched voice.

“Ok food is ready!” Kate called out 

Y/N was disappointed because she really wanted to see Becca try. 

They all sat down and ate the amazing food, constantly complimenting Kate and her wife saying it was one of the best meals they had had in a long time. 

After eating everyone was lounging around patting their full bellies. Price was sitting behind Y/N in one of the chairs smoking a cigar and talking to Kate. 

Becca and Nancy approached Y/N who was currently tidying up the picnic table. 

“Hey, you’ve been avoiding us.” Nancy said slurring slightly while pointing her finger at Y/N 

“Have I?” Y/N said, mocking her playful tone.

“You have, but that’s ok. I’m sure we’re going to be great friends eventually. Now we wanted to ask which one of these guys do you belong to?” 

Behind them Price and Kate halted their conversation to pay attention to what was happening now in front of them.

“I don’t belong to anyone.” Y/N answered with gritted teeth.

“Oh don’t be like that, you know what I mean. Which one is yours? We don’t want to be stepping on any toes here. We’re trying to find a match for Becca.” 

“I figured that much.” Y/N replied tensely.

“Yeah, being a soldier's wife would be so cool! And like they’re never home but you get all this respect for serving your country. How great is that?!” 

Y/N was about to tear into her but she felt a hand grab hers. 

“Watch it love. We wouldn’t want to ruin Laswell’s lovely BBQ would we?” Price whispered in her ear and closed her eyes, suddenly very aware of how close he was. 

She clenched her jaw when he let go of her hand and went back over towards Laswell, but remained within grabbing distance. 

“Oh perfect, you’re with the old man! He wasn’t even on our list of candidates!” Nancy said excitedly. 

“Not on your list?” Y/N said, her voice slightly raised “He should be on the top of that list!” 

“I mean we totally get it, for you he is but he’s just like not our type.” Nancy replied and Becca nodded.

“Oh but he’s a Captain! You must have amazing benefits! Especially like that death one.” Becca started and Y/N lunged. 

Before she could reach the girls though an arm wrapped around her waist and picked her up dragging her towards the house. Behind her she could hear Nancy and Becca still talking.

“What’s her deal?” 

“No clue, let’s go talk to that scary one again. I bet he’s hot under that mask.” 

She was struggling to get back out to the yard when Price finally put her down in the kitchen. 

“Let me go back out there. I promise not to kill them.” Y/N said while pacing the kitchen, Price was now blocking her only way out. “Just maim them a bit.”

“Hmmm” Price grunted, standing with his arms crossed in that way that Y/N loved. His fingers tucked under his arms, his thumbs pointed up and his hips jutting out. But she didn’t notice, she was too mad. 

“Death benefits! Death benefits. She’s talking about fucking death benefits like it’s the lottery.” Y/N went off still pacing. “They’re just out there looking to sucker one of you into marrying them so they can get your fucking benefits.” 

“Not me.” Price said amused. “I’m not on their list” 

“Yeah that’s another thing, not on their list. How can they look at you and not want you?” 

“Well,” Price said,walking over to Y/N and standing in front of her causing her to stop pacing. “I’m on your list and that’s all that matters to me.” 

Y/N blushed and then smiled slyly.

“And am I on yours?” 

He started slowly walking towards her and she was taking small steps backwards until she was against the kitchen sink. He leaned over and put his left hand on the counter beside her. 

“You are the whole list.” he said quietly and then grabbed the bottom hem of her shorts, his knuckles brushing against the skin of her thigh. “Especially in these.” 

Y/N felt her skin tingle and heat up but also felt a nervousness in her chest. They had never been this close to stepping over the line that separated play and real. Ghost’s words echoed in her mind “Don’t want you to get hurt.” A slight frown formed on her lips and immediately Price started to back up. 

“Sorry, that was too…”  He started but Y/N grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him back. 

“Don’t you dare.” 

He looked down at her lips and then further down before looking back into her eyes. 

“Are you sure this is what  you want? Because we have been playing this game for quite a while and once we cross that line I don’t think I could ever go back.” 

He moved his knee in between her legs and she let out a soft moan as she rocked her hips forward against it. 

“Does that answer your question?” She asked, flattening her hand on his chest and slowly moving it downward. 

“God woman.” He hissed and was about to slam his lips down onto hers when they heard Gaz calling out his name. 

“Fuck.” Y/N cried out and slipped out from in front of Price who moved forward, pretending to be doing dishes. 

Gaz walked into the kitchen and looked at the two of them confused. 

“What’s going on?” He asked looking over at Price who wouldn’t turn around. 

“Nothing, we’re not doing anything?” Y/N replied quickly 

“Dishes” Price added behind her. 

“Yeah dishes. We’re doing dishes.” She then picked up a dish towel to sell the story. 

“Ok… well Nancy came up to me and said that you were acting weird and looked like you were mad at her.” 

“Right, that.” Y/N sighed, relaxing slightly. “Gaz I want you to look at me and listen to what I’m saying alright? Hard no on Nancy.”

“What? But..” He sputtered but Y/N grabbed him by the shoulders. 

“Gaz she was talking about death benefits and how you’ll never be around. She may be nice looking on the outside but on the inside she is ugly.” 

Gaz sighed and then looked out towards the backyard. 

“Could I just enjoy the outside for a bit before I send her packing?” 

“NO!”  Y/N and Price said in unison. 

“Fine. I’ll get her out of here.” His head fell and he made his way back outside. 

Price stepped away from the sink and Y/N handed him the dish towel to dry his hands. She stood still facing away from him, her hands on her hips with her head down. 

“We should get back out there.” She sighed and then looked up at the ceiling. 

Behind her even though she couldn’t see him, Price nodded. 

They were silent for a moment and Y/N felt his hand rest lightly on her hips and leaned over to whisper in her ear. 

“Wear those shorts again for me sometime?” 

“John,” She said quietly and he pushed his hips into her with a moan, hearing her say his name. “You wear that hat again and you’ll see me in a lot less.” 

He groaned and nipped at her ear. They stood there for a minute and then John reluctantly let her go. 

“Ok we really need to go out back.” She said turning around to see John trying to adjust himself. 

“You go, I'm going to need a few minutes here.” 

After that they got busy at work with missions, training, paperwork and stakeouts that took over their lives and they hadn’t had a chance to be alone once. John went back into Captain mode and it was starting to feel like the BBQ was just a fever dream Y/N had. She spent many nights thinking about that moment and what could have come next. It was driving her to the point of insanity.  

But now, seeing John in that hat, she knew that he was suffering just as much as she was. 

“I guess a deal is a deal, Cap.” Y/N said into the coms quietly. 

Price looked up at her direction, smirked, nodded and gave her a quick wink causing her core to clench.

“Eyes on the prize here folks.” Ghost said in the coms. ”I want to get this over and done with.” 

“Roger that.” The rest of the team replied. 

-------------------------------------------------

Alright let me know what you think. I live off feedback. Should I continue? This is my first fic up so I’m going to need a little encouragement to start posting again.

[benispunk]

Who's That Girl?

Chapter 5: We Stay Silent

All jokes aside, Wade had too much stuff to deal with. Keeping up his mask was way too hard.

logan howlett x reader

TW: language, D&W, panic attack, mental health issues.

A/N: chapter five is up!!! this one is directly connected to the previous chapter, it's basically the same chapter but from wade's pov, so please make sure you read Part 4 before reading this one!! Please don't be made at me I love wade so much😔✊

→ this fic is inspired by the TV Show New Girl, Wade and Logan aren't Deadpool and Wolverine (no powers/mutant gene etc) but I did take most of their character traits and storyline!!

Masterlist / Previous Part

Wade woke up later than usual, sunlight already creeping through the blinds. His phone buzzed on the nightstand with a few missed notifications, but he didn’t bother checking them right away. He stretched lazily, rubbing his face. The apartment was quiet, almost too quiet. Logan and Y/N had already left for work, probably hours ago. Good. He didn't think he was in the mood for any morning chit-chat for once.

After throwing on his running gear and grabbing a water bottle, Wade slipped out of the apartment and into the cool morning air. He’d hit his usual route— nothing too long today. He wasn’t up for pushing himself too hard.

He never liked running. He always wondered what part of running was actually satisfying for some people. It helped him clear his mind, gave him space to think, or better yet, not think at all. Maybe he had a toxic relationship with running. Maybe it worked like a drug on him. But he knew he would rather run until his legs give out rather than go down the same path he followed years ago. He knew better now.

The streets were familiar, and Wade let his feet carry him through the neighborhood without much thought. His mind wandered, as it often did, from jokes he was working on to what gig he had next to the weird thing Logan had said last night. Everything felt scattered, but that was normal. He was used to living with his thoughts bouncing around like a pinball machine. His mind felt like a computer with thousands of tabs opened.

But then, just as he rounded a corner near the park, Wade froze. Vanessa.

She was standing there, a few meters away, looking just like she used to—like a ghost from a past life. She hadn’t seen him yet, thank god. His heart slammed into his chest, panic rising as he quickly debated turning around and bolting. Too late.

“Wade?”

Her voice caught him mid-step. He turned, awkwardly waving like an idiot.

“Vanessa, hey!” Wade’s voice came out higher than he wanted, and the grin he plastered on his face felt all wrong.

Vanessa smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners, looking genuinely happy to see him. “I knew that was you. How’ve you been?”

Wade’s brain scrambled for something, anything to say. How have I been? That was a fucking big question. How do you explain six years of missing someone without falling apart? He ran a hand through his hair, nervously glancing at his shoes.

“Oh, you know… same old, same old.” He tried to laugh it off, but his voice cracked.

She didn’t seem to notice his internal chaos. “It’s been so long, huh? We should catch up sometime, what do you think?”

He wanted to run. Run so fast he could break his legs and never even feel it. Catch up? What does that even mean? How do you catch up with someone you’ve been in love with since forever even after you both decided that being friends would be better, and bla bla bla, why was he thinking about this again?

He did his best at hiding his internal panic and forced himself to stay still, nodding like an idiot.

“Yeah, totally! That would be great.” He was still smiling like a maniac, but inside, every alarm bell was going off. Abort. Abort. Abort.

Vanessa seemed pleased with that answer, though. “Great! I’ll text you.”

“Yeah! See ya around, V,” Wade blurted before turning on his heel and jogging away as fast as he could without looking completely insane. He could feel her eyes on him as he sprinted, and he didn’t stop until he was several blocks away, breathing hard.

“Good job, Wade. You fuckin’ idiot,” he muttered to himself, wiping sweat from his forehead. His chest felt tight, but it wasn’t from the run. It was that familiar pressure building inside him, the one he tried so hard to ignore. The feeling of not being able to handle any of it.

———

Wade stood outside Blind Al’s door, debating whether to knock or not. He hadn’t seen her in a while, but she had been a constant in his life during the toughest times. Before Logan. Before everything fell apart.

He knocked, and her voice came through the door, as sharp as ever. “Took you long enough to visit, jackass.”

Wade smiled despite himself, pushing the door open. “Miss me, Al?”

“Not in the slightest,” she quipped. Wade knew she couldn’t see, but the way she was standing in front of him made it look like she was staring right through him, “Something’s going on with you. Spill it.”

Wade plopped down on her couch, letting out a dramatic sigh. “Ran into Vanessa.”

Blind Al didn’t react. She just sat back in her chair. “That so? And you didn’t completely lose your shit?”

Wade snorted. “Define ‘completely.’ I told her we’d catch up, and then I ran away like a coward. Does that count?”

“Yeah, that counts,” Al said, her voice gruff but understanding. “So what now?”

“I don’t know.” Wade rubbed his temples. “She seemed happy, like genuinely happy to see me, and I just… I don’t know what to do with that.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Al said bluntly. “She’s part of your past, and that’s fine. Doesn’t mean you have to dive back into that mess.”

“Yeah, but what if…” Wade trailed off, staring at the ceiling. He wasn’t even sure what he was asking.

“Look, you’ve got your life now. You’ve got Logan, and now this new girl, Y/N, right? Stick to what’s real. Don’t go chasing ghosts.” Al’s voice softened slightly, and Wade felt a pang of gratitude for her, "Or go for it. Just, don’t think about it too much. Let things go their own way." she added.

Easier said than done, but duly noted.

Suddenly, she got up from her chair and walked towards her kitchen. Wade watched her come back with a cup of not-at-all full of alcohol coffee and settle back in her chair.

"So, you didn’t tell me about that new roommate…"

He stayed with her for lunch and then they talked all afternoon. He told her everything she had to know about Y/N, and how Logan was doing, too. But still, he couldn’t shake the thought of what had happened that morning. Vanessa. Al was always right, but the pressure in his chest still hadn’t gone away. It wasn’t just Vanessa. It was everything. 

———

By the time Wade got back to the apartment building, the weight in his chest had doubled. He made a turn into an alleyway, the walls suddenly feeling too close. His breath came in shallow gasps, and his hands started to shake.

No no no no no, not now. Not here.

He pressed himself into the corner, knees pulling up to his chest as he tried to get control, but it wasn’t working. He felt like he was drowning, like the air was being sucked out of the alley. Everything was overwhelming.

Breathe, Wade. Just fucking breathe.

He fumbled for his phone and dialed his therapist’s number. He knew she had given him her personal phone number just for emergencies but maybe, maybe this time, it was an emergency. He needed it. Because breathing wasn’t working. After a few agonizing rings, she picked up.

“Wade? What’s going on?”

He could barely get the words out, his voice shaking. “I…I c—can’t »

“Okay, okay,” she said calmly. “You’re going to be fine. You know the drill. Slow your breathing.”

Wade tried, focusing on her voice. After what felt like hours, his breathing steadied, but the tightness in his chest remained.

"Are you feeling better?" she asked and Wade had no idea what to answer. Air was back in his lungs, yes. But that was it.

"I’m losing it. I don’t know what to do." He waited a few seconds for his therapist to answer. When she didn’t, he continued. "I’m lost. I can’t make a choice. I feel like a fuckin’ loser and I don’t know why people are still keeping up with me. And I called you, god, I’m so sorry, I know it’s supposed to be for emergencies only—"

She interrupted him, "Wade, this was an emergency."

Wade shook his head and he watched his free hand for a few seconds, it was shaking like crazy. He didn’t say anything for a while. "Can we have a session soon?"

“Of course, Wade. Can you get to someone, right now? A friend?”

“Logan,” Wade muttered. “I could go see Logan.”

“Good. Do that. You’ve got people, Wade. Lean on them.”

Wade nodded, even though she couldn’t see him. “Yeah… yeah, I’ll go see Logan.”

He hung up and dragged himself to his feet, wiping at his face. Get it together, Wade.

———

Logan’s classroom was quiet when Wade arrived, a rare moment of calm at the end of a long day. The coffee shop near the center was still open, so Wade grabbed a box of donuts and two coffees before heading over. Showing up unannounced wasn’t unusual for him—Logan never seemed to mind (he did– Wade chose to ignore it). Besides, the guy could use a donut break anyway.

But as Wade neared the door, that familiar tightness crept back into his chest. Logan’s gonna see right through me. He paused, forcing down the rising anxiety, plastering on his usual grin before pushing the door open.

“Hey, I come bearing gifts. You looked like you could use a sugar rush.”

Logan frowned as soon as he saw him. “You okay?”

I hate him so much.

Wade waved him off, doing his best to sound casual. “Me? Of course! I’m always okay. What’re you talking about?”

Logan didn’t press further, but Wade could feel his friend's eyes lingering on him, studying him like he could sense the tension beneath the surface. He wasn’t sure if he wanted Logan to ask again or not. Wade kept talking, cracking jokes, doing his usual routine, but something in Logan’s steady silence made it harder to maintain.

They sat together, sipping coffee and biting into donuts, the atmosphere light but heavy at the same time. He knew Logan saw through him. He always did. But Logan didn’t push, and for that, Wade was grateful.

As they left the center together, Wade kept the conversation rolling, letting his words spill out faster than usual, a habit he’d sharpened over the years. Keep talking, keep things light, and maybe Logan wouldn’t dig deeper.

“...and I swear, man, if this one guy hadn’t backed off, I would’ve–”

“You sure you’re okay?” Logan’s voice cut through Wade’s ramble, and oh my god, was he using a gentle tone on me?

The question sent a jolt of panic through Wade. He felt the familiar tightening in his chest again, the pressure pushing against the cracks. Not now. Not here.

He immediately forced a laugh, one that felt too loud in his ears, like he wasn’t the one laughing . “Of course! Stop worrying about me, peanut. You’ve got your own crap to deal with. Speaking of which,” Wade added quickly, redirecting the conversation towards something he knew Logan wouldn’t press on, “how’s it going with Y/N, huh? Been hanging out together without me, yet?”

Logan rolled his eyes, but Wade didn’t miss the shift in his expression. He knew Logan had caught the distraction, knew the guy could read him like an open book. But Logan didn’t push, not yet.

“She’s our roommate, Wade,” Logan said.

Wade threw him a wink, keeping up the act. “Sure, sure. Got it.”

Logan let it slide, like Wade knew he would. He always did. Pushing Wade for answers never worked. Logan had learned that a long time ago. He’ll ask again later, Wade thought, the weight of it settling somewhere deep inside him. But for now, at least, Logan let it go.

Wade kept talking, kept deflecting, but even as his voice filled the air, he could feel Logan’s gaze on him, steady, waiting. Logan would be there when the time came, ready to listen. Wade knew that. He always knew that.

But right now? Wade wasn’t ready. Not yet. So he smiled, cracked another joke, and pushed the feeling down a little further.

Maybe later.

XXX

[ceaselesswatchersspecialboy]

Okay here we go

Does Stanfraud's eye still bleeds, like when Bill was possessing Ford or doesn't because of his bigger connection to Ford's body?

Is Stanfraud an uncle/big brother figure to Soos, like Stanley is his dad figure? Does Bill even care about him even a little😢

I know that the main focus of this au is on Bill, but since Stanley didn't try to pretend to be Ford, how did Stanley's and Filbrick's first meeting went after the whole "getting kicked out" thing"? Especially since both Stan and Ford were definitely broke at the time

You mentioned that Bill still has access to a little portion of his powers, what are they exactly?

Anyway your au is genuinely awesome and seeing it on my dash is always a huge treat 💛💛💛

Okay the first question I really want to answer because I’ve been thinking about this:

— His eye definitely bleeds on occasion. Even though he is far more connected to Ford’s body here, he’s still a demon possessing a host. He shouldn’t be there. There’s some outer force keeping him trapped. So I have thought about the fact there would probably be some lasting impacts on the body due to possession exposure for so long, such as the eye bleeding becoming a regular problem and gradual loss of vision in that eye. There may also be other physical impacts, but I’ll work on those when I manage to get down an official design for him.

— Great News! He is like Soos’ weird uncle! That may be where he learned to be somewhat decent around kids, honestly. He absolutely tried to mess with him at first, make jabs, tell him the date of his death, attempt to drive him to madness just a little (this is why Stan had to get rid of the last handyman), but Soos proved to be incorruptible and took all of Stanfraud’s weirdness in stride. Bill does end up caring about him. He goes as far as to liking their conversations. Soos keeps up with his chaos! Even Bill isn’t sure what’s going on in that head of his (when he gets his own body back he’s going to find out).

— Though Bill is the main focus of the plot-change, the other aspects are equally as important and so I’m glad they also have people’s interest! Their first meeting is… tense, to say the least. If Filbrick has any regrets, which I think I’ll leave up to interpretation, he’s far too stubborn a man to show them, and would rather dig himself further into a hole than admit he made a mistake. Stan desperately just wants to ignore all the scathing comments and get this little reunion over with, until Filbrick makes a comment about Ford, then Stan snaps. You can insult him, he probably deserves it, but not his brother. Sure, they may not be his brother right now, but the intent is there, and that’s what counts.

It cuts everything short, with Stan grabbing Fraud and telling him they’re leaving (He doesn’t complain).

With Filbrick, I do kind of want to explore their dynamic over the years while he’s still alive, especially with Stan, but also with how he’d treat ‘Ford’ and his odder behaviour. I don’t want to just make Filbrick a one-dimensional character though, as I think there’s a lot to be said about the cycle of abuse and parental projection so. While the AU may be based around the question ‘what if Bill got stuck possessing Ford?’ The answers it has lead me down a lot of different paths to explore — such as this!

— The powers he has access too lessen over time, but currently he is somewhat capable of seeing potential future outcomes (ciphervoyance), pyrokinesis, telekinesis, faster healing factor and teleportation. Note that all of these are in a much weaker state and drain Ford’s body and by extension Bill heavily — especially teleportation. Doing that once can cause him to pass out, so it’s more of an emergency thing, most his abilities are honestly. Too much focus is required.

And I’m so happy to be a little treat on your dash!! I hope you enjoy all this just as much!

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Cause and Effect

ok this is overdone i feel but i love your writing. something abkut the effects the sides have on themselves? virgil being super anxious and logan overwhelmed and similar things? something w janus? with a good portion of hurt comofrt? love your fics!! – anon

Hi! I love your writing so so so much. I do have a request for you, if you want it: Headcanon that Remus, being responsible for intrusive thoughts, is also responsible for any earworms Thomas gets. Which, he mostly uses to his advantage. Except. He unironically likes Taylor Swift and is terrified of that information getting out because it will ruin his image/he won’t be taken seriously. – anon

I hope you’re having a good week! I was wondering if I could request a hurt/comfort fic with one of the Sides being really bad about announcing/enforcing boundaries, because “it probably means more to them than it does to me” “it’s not that bad” “I can deal with it”. Thank you for considering!! – anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: self-esteem issues, panic attacks, anxiety attacks

Pairings: dlampr, can be platonic or romantic you decide

Word Count: 2954

Patton doesn't always remember that he has feelings, too. Logan works…a lot. Virgil lives his life looking over his shoulder. Janus has gotten so good at lying to everyone that it's a wonder he even knows what the truth is himself. Remus wears shame like a badge of honor and the sweater he just can't manage to make himself throw away. Roman is tired. The Sides struggle. The Sides help each other.

Patton doesn't always remember that he has feelings, too.

He's at the center of Thomas's feelings, of course, and that means he's feeling a lot of things that aren't necessarily his all the time. Thomas is happy, he's happy. Thomas is sad, the entire world might be ending. Thomas is angry, he has to hide everything that looks even vaguely orange because something might explode. Thomas is depressed, he finds it hard to even get out of bed.

That extends to the Sides somewhat too; all of them experience heightened emotions, a wonderful by-product of being metaphysical and in the Mindscape. So that means that anything that might happen to them will happen in greater intensity than it would in the 'real world.' But sometimes that can be a little hard to handle, especially if they aren't used to it. For Roman, it looks like being stuck at the worst part of a tragic monologue for hours, for Logan, it looks like that one question on a test that you just can't answer, for Virgil, it's the quiet and unsettling feeling of having something just over your shoulder all the time, for Janus, it's the itch that you just can't scratch, for Remus, it's the noise that's just at the wrong frequency.

It's hard, it's hard for all of them, and so Patton takes it upon himself to help them through it. He takes Roman's hands and just holds them, trying to make him see that he doesn't have to perform, not now, not with him. He sits with Logan and they just talk, about nothing, about everything, until Logan can smile just a little and everything feels better. He puts a pair of headphones on Virgil and wraps him up in a weighted blanket, leaned against his chest. He spoils Janus with a spa day until their favorite snake is too tired to do anything but sleep. And he sings with Remus, as loud and off key as they can, until that's all they can hear.

It's good. It's fun. It's worth it to take care of his kiddos. But sometimes things we say when we're hurting can make other people hurt, and it's important to take care of that too.

Sometimes Patton forgets that. Sometimes he mumbles it's okay, they didn't mean it, through his own tears. Sometimes he has to go and be by himself for a while before he can come back and face them again. Sometimes he has to just…remind himself that they're hurting, and that's what's important.

That isn't true, of course, and when the rest of them find out, it's easy to see that they love him too. They play games until their sides hurt from laughing so much, they crowd around the kitchen to bake cookies and brownies and all manner of sweet treats, they watch movies and cuddle on the couch until they all fall asleep. And when he's upset, because he gets upset too, they all come into his room and tell him how much he means to them until the curtains turn blue again.

***

Logan works…a lot.

There is something to be said for how subtle yet pervasive the concept of Logic is. On first glance, one would associate it primarily with academics, math in particular, or some such thing that is so purely intellectual that it might seem limited in its application. When in reality, when you examine it further, there is some hint of Logic in just about everything that you do, and so there is no escape from the things that you must use it for in order to do it correctly.

Logan has a lot of work. Logan has a lot of work. He has so much work, in fact, that if he stopped to think about how much work he has, he would become so daunted by the prospect of staring at such a tall hill that he would never be able to conquer it. Best to deal with things one problem at a time, take them step by step, and make sure that he doesn't stop to consider the sheer magnitude of what he's doing.

Perhaps this isn't the healthiest way to go about it. Perhaps he would be better suited to breaking down things into more manageable hills, getting over them one step at a time, that sort of thing, but he has no time for that. In the time it would take to do that, the first of the manageable hills would already have become unmanageable by the time he got back to them. So this is how it must be, working and working and working until there is a big enough pause for him to catch his breath.

The others…are not fond of this. Surely, he accounts for enough time to spend with them, but it isn't easily won. It's fraught with the thoughts of what else he could be doing, a passing worry that he's missing something egregious, that he would be better suited to getting all of his work done before allowing himself a break. But that is not the nature of resting, that is the nature of rotting, even if Logan cannot actually give himself a break.

When they find out, they drag him away from his work and into the Imagination, into a library so full of wonder and curiosity that he has no choice but to stop thinking about his work and instead, chase the things he's actually interested in. He darts from bookshelf to bookshelf, peppering the others with did you know, did you know, did you know, and nothing they could say back will be as rewarding as seeing his eyes light up with excitement for the first time in…they can't remember how long it's been.

***

Virgil lives his life looking over his shoulder.

His existence is a constant struggle of did we remember to do this, did we forget this, what if this happens, this is going to go wrong, everything's going to explode in our faces. Every time they so much as leave the house, it's a war of keeping himself together just long enough to make it back so they don't have an embarrassing meltdown in the middle of…wherever they happen to be. The grocery store, the gym, even the fucking sidewalk. It's like walking through the world where there are big flashing neon signs everywhere he turns, each warning about something else awful and terrible, and yet somehow everyone else is able to completely ignore them.

It's terrifying.

And what's worse is that he knows if he so much as breathed a word of this to any of them, they wouldn't believe him. They'd do something like laugh and say he's just freaking out over nothing—which he knows, that's not doing anything to stop it from happening in the first place—or try and rationalize it out of him. Which won't work either, because he knows he's being irrational, that's why he's so mad about it in the first place, but realizing what's happening and being able to do something about it are two different things.

Being able to get himself grounded becomes more of a necessity than anything else. This big hoodie that lets him become an amorphous blob, the heavy things in his pockets he can squeeze when the temptation to break something gets too much, the headphones and earbuds he keeps stashed everywhere with the phone charger clipped to his belt because if he can't listen to music at a moment's notice, he might actually break down in tears. He has to keep himself alert, because if something's going to go wrong, he's going to need to notice it quickly so he can get everyone else on board and safe before it wrecks the rest of their lives.

And when he manages to shove that out of his mouth in an absolute mess of words, he's greeting not with laughs and teases, but with open arms and kind words. He's bundled into Remus's arms and Roman lies on top of them as Janus chuckles, hands carding through his hair to help silence the worst of the mumblings that something's going to go wrong. Logan takes his hand and squeezes it in the rhythm for breathing exercises as Patton sings something soft under his breath.

They're all in the same room. They're all safe. They're all going to be okay.

He can do this. He can do this.

He can do this.

***

Janus has gotten so good at lying to everyone that it's a wonder he even knows what the truth is himself.

Stories need antagonists. A narrative needs something to help it wind its way around all the twists and turns to make it into something worth following. If that means that the truth needs to be a little harder to find, that something needs to go a little wrong before it can be set to rights, well, he's happy to play the part. He's happy to thrill at the surprised looks he gets from the naive little heroes, the shock and betrayal on their faces when they realize he's tricked them, to cackle as they scramble to figure out what to do next.

He's equally thrilled to watch them squirm as he pokes and prods at their comfort zones. Challenging anyone who appears to be steadfast is endlessly entertaining, after all, and he can hardly blame himself when he's rewarded with such passionate monologues or fiery outbursts that end in grudging admittance that maybe he had a point all along. He's never been one to refrain from being smug, after all, and it would be a crime to deprive people of the right to see him in all his victorious glory.

Sometimes, though, that victory feels a little hollow. When it stops being a surprise and more of a resignation, when it's no longer something that they rise to meet but hunker down to grin and bear…when he wins, trouncing them soundly, and they take it on the chin and keep moving…that's not what this is for. He's here to make all of them feel a little something, even if it starts out badly, they should be proud of themselves when they outsmart him, out-think him, even when they don't win but they come close. He's a thorn in their side, not the sword that guts them before they have so much as a chance to say anything. And there's only so much fun that can be had toying with them before it feels like he's kicking a puppy for no reason.

He makes Roman cry once. He just stands there, staring at Janus, waiting for it to be over with tears streaming down his face. And when Janus stammers that yes, he's…he's done, Roman just leaves.

He doesn't want to just be the bad guy. He doesn't want them to think he doesn't care for them. He doesn't want them to be hurt, not…not in any way that actually matters.

He takes it on the chin, as he's seen them do, but it gets harder. Walking the line between fulfilling the role he's made for himself and actually being cruel is difficult, and tensions stretch further and further until one day, he can't do it and he has to retreat to his room and spend the rest of the day puzzling about how to fix this. He's never been the one to actually offer words of comfort. He's been there to lance infections from open wounds, not stitch them back together. He doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know what to believe anymore.

Roman comes to him first. Wraps him up in a hug and ignores all his babbling in favor of dragging him to their favorite picnic spot in the imagination. Everyone takes on a different role, just for that day, where Patton is the gardener that helps the baker, Logan, Roman and Remus are the woodcutters that build the cabins, Virgil is the blacksmith and Janus—Janus is the innkeeper. They spin a new story together, one where everyone gets a happy ending.

Stories end, after all, and new ones begin.

***

Remus wears shame like a badge of honor and the sweater he just can't manage to make himself throw away.

He delights in the uncomfortable, luxuriates in the madness, and happily dances along to the songs of the worst things you could ever imagine. His side of the Imagination is chaos and ruin, twisted undergrowth giving way to dark city scapes filled with ne'er-do-wells and the filth from stories that finally get their chance to steal the spotlight. He lovingly tends to his creatures that would send fainter hearts into shock, none more so than his beloved Kraken, Oliver. Shipwrecks litter the bottom of the Imagination's oceans and he couldn't be prouder.

For Remus, chaos is a way of life. He takes the things that normal people would scoff at—just as enthusiastically as he would scoff at them for being so boring—and makes it into art. He builds machines that are needlessly complicated and endlessly horrible. He turns perfect order into perfect disorder with a gleeful squeal. He's the bane of Logan and Roman's existences—one is affectionate, the other decidedly less so—and he steps into his bear traps with a grin on his face.

There are, of course, downsides. He's alone, a lot of the time. No one else really appreciates everything he does, all the hard work that goes into turning his world into the best it can be for him. Sure, they get close sometimes, like when there's an experiment and he and Logan get to go full mad-scientist, or when he and Janus are gleefully stirring all manner of shit up for everyone else, or when he and Roman throw literally everything they can at every sort of wall just to see what might stick. But when those times are over, and he's back to being the same old, messy Remus, he gets…lonely.

Especially when there's something that would make them think he's something else.

He's got a reputation. He's supposed to be dark, twisted, messy, chaotic, that sort of thing. He's annoying, the voices in your head that you just can't get to go away, the song that won't stop playing in your head at 2 in the morning when all you want to do is go to sleep.

He can't exactly expect them to believe him when he says the songs he wants to keep playing are something like…Taylor Swift.

He's got an image to maintain! And that image doesn't go well with, y'know…something like that. He's no stranger to other people's shame, but his own…well, he might get why people hate feeling it so much.

Roman, though, is his brother, and as such gets full rights to both tease him about things and find out whatever he wants to know. And Roman is his brother, which means that he loves him unconditionally. So maybe the two of them can sing along to Taylor Swift at 3 in the morning and if Roman takes the fall for being the one obsessed with her stuff, well, that's for them to know and Janus to find out when he figures out what Roman's lying about this time.

It's fine, they'll just make him listen to 'no body, no crime.' That song's right up his alley.

***

Roman is tired.

He's just…really tired.

Being the prince, being Thomas's Hopes and Dreams, his Creativity—well, half of it—trying to keep everything afloat…it's tiring.

The others don't know this—well, Remus might—but he's the main anchor point between Thomas and the Mindscape. They're all products of Thomas's imagination, which he uses his Creativity to make and interact with, which means that…them, the Mindscape, the Imagination, it's…well, he has to spend a lot of energy to keep it the way it is.

It's tiring.

So sometimes, he doesn't have it in him to play the role. Sometimes he can't focus on staying away long enough to do all the work they want him to do on top of all the stuff they don't know he's doing. And sometimes…sometimes it's just a little bit too much.

They find him on the floor of his room one night, just watching the moon. They gather blankets and pillows and stuffed animals and build a little nest, right there around him. Remus opens the door to the Imagination to lighten a little bit of the load and Logan helps Patton coax Thomas the rest of the way to sleep, letting them shift to the dreaming mind instead.

He's so tired. Surrounded by the others, with his mind at peace, he finally gets some rest.

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[mrsriddles-blog]

Lorenzo Berkshire X Fem!Reader ???

Could you do a oneshot of the reader and Enzo being close friends? Basically they both secretly harbor feelings, but they don’t know how to tell each other. Reader starts to have spicy dreams about Enzo and get shy and flustered to be around him so she avoids him. Her bestie is Pansy. Basically, Pansy asks why reader has been so weird. Maybe a smutty ending between Enzo and Reader?

If Only | L.B

Pairing: Lorenzo Berkshire x Fem Slytherin Reader

WC: 5.9k+

Warnings/Notes: mild language, p in v, smut, fluff, angst…

Summary: Suddenly, you’re developing feelings for your best friend and you’re unsure what to do…

Authors Note: I suck at writing smut lmao I tried my best for the request and hope whoever requested this is happy! I’m soooooo sorry it took me so long to get to the request. While reading the request, it kind of sounded like something I read, but not completely you know, but it sounded familiar, so after going through my reading archives—I found the fic that it reminded me of. If you haven’t read it already, it’s called “Agora Hills” by @theostrophywife , so please go check out her piece! And her other work! It’s amazing! She is a super, super, super talented author!🤍

If someone were to ask you who your best friend was, you'd answer right away and tell them, "Lorenzo Berkshire."

There was no need for anyone to ask the question of course as it was pretty obvious. You two were always together. In fact, you guys were seen so often together that some began to question if you two were just friends. You were quick to deny the speculations and to shut any rumors down, but it didn't always help.

It didn't help that your own friend group also questioned your guys' relationship. You'd remind them it's "platonic" and it's just a "friendship" and not a "relationship". You begun to think that they enjoyed how flustered it made both you and Enzo.

Of course they choose to tease their two most empathetic, shy, and naive friends.

Out of your friend group, it was you who was the most empathetic. Sometimes your friends wondered how you got sorted into Slytherin. You were shy and always were timidly in the background. You weren't super confident in yourself mentally or physically. You were naive to the crudeness and cruelty ongoing around you. You were definitely the innocent one, a trait that your friends admired about you even though they sometimes secretly think your Hufflepuff or something.

You loved to tie a ribbon bow in your hair if that said anything. You use to do a pink ribbon, but everyone teased you for it, so you switched to an emerald green ribbon.

However, it was your friends who scared everyone away who teased you about your love for your bows. They loved your innocence, your naivety, your shyness, and your cuteness. You were like a female version of Enzo in their eyes, but a lot less exposed to the world compared to him. He hung out with the boys a lot because of Quidditch, so it was obvious he had not the most innocent mind.

Enzo and you have known each other since before Hogwarts. After all, your mothers were childhood best friends themselves and this wished the same for their future children. Your mothers were amazed when they ended up pregnant a few months apart. Enzo was older than you by four months, but you both were attached by the hip the moment you both met.

Your mothers believe the two of you are destined or something like that. They said they saw it the day they put their two babies in a room together. They claimed the sun brightened and that childish giggles were all they could hear as the two of your begun to play. Enzo and you always roll your eyes and smile, believing the two women were over exaggerating the day you two were introduced.

"Pans...could we talk about something?" You murmur.

The boys were practicing for their next Quidditch game on Friday against Ravenclaw. It was just Pansy, Astoria and you in the Common Room, but Astoria had fallen asleep while studying. Pansy was reading through her essay and you were trying to read your latest romance novel, but you couldn't quite focus.

"Yeah, of course! What's up?" She asks, looking up at you with a soft smile.

Her black hair was in its normal perfect bob, her green eyes sparkling in the soft glow from the fireplace. She was pale and had sharp features, light freckles dusting across her nose and cheeks. You were always envious of how perfect she looked.

You glanced around the Common Room, realizing it was just you three in the room which was rather strange, but you were thankful in the moment.

"I...I like someone, but I don't think I can like him." You admit softly, so softly she would have had missed it if she weren't accustomed to your soft tone.

"And why is that, honey?" She asks softly, sitting up as she angled herself more towards you.

"He's my friend. I doubt he likes me that way. Even if he did like me that way...I don't know if I could be with him. I'd be worried about losing him if things went array." You admit quietly, anxiously fidgeting with your hands.

"Hun, is this about Enz?" She asks softly, placing a hand over your fidgeting ones.

You look up from your hands, your cheeks flushing red as you meet her soft eyes and her soft smile. You nod slowly, your hair falling in your face, and you suddenly were thankful for the shield to protect you.

"What would you like to do? Would you like to find out where he stands?" She asks.

"I dunno...maybe...maybe I should wait. Maybe it'll go away." You mumble embarrassed.

"Okay, hun...why don't you talk to me after you wait and you're one hundred percent certain how you feel and I'll help you figure it out? How's that sound? It'll give you time to think about it and maybe I can sniff out some information for our next conversation." She says.

"Okay...thanks, Pans. You're the best." You murmur, hugging her.

She smiles, hugging you back as she waits until you pull away. You had always wondered about why she waited to pull away from a hug. You learned that she wanted to wait until the other person was ready to let go because maybe they really needed a hug. You loved that about Pansy and it made her hugs all the more special. 

You both abruptly pull apart when the guys walk in as they talk and yell obnoxiously loud. Astoria had jumped and fallen off the armchair she was curled up on. You and Pansy softly giggle before helping her up and sort her notes back out.

"Our girls! How are you three?" Theodore asks, the group of tall men surrounding you girls.

"I'm tired." Astoria grumbles, curling back up in the armchair, looping an arm around your waist.

You smile softly as her, continuing to play with her hair as she snuggled closer to you.

"We are alright. You boys should go get showered before dinner." Pansy says, a smile on her lips.

"Don't you want a hug, baby?" Blaise pouts.

"Not with how sweaty you are. I'm sure your Quidditch husband would love a hug right now though." She says, rolling her eyes playfully.

You giggle, shaking your head. Blaise and Pansy were such an adorable couple who bantered playfully.

"Girl, you can't pull that on me when you got your school wife." Blaise snorts.

"True. I did get pretty lucky with this fine piece of woman." Pansy says, winking at you as she kisses your cheek.

You flush red at her words, looking down at your lap as you smile shyly. Your hair served as a barrier against the boys' eyes who of course were teasing you about your reaction to Pansy.

You glance up at Enzo to see him staring at your knees with furrowed brows. Your cheeks flush red as you had fallen up the stairs earlier today and had nearly dragged Pansy down. You had some nasty bruises on your knees now.

"Stori, we should go get ready for dinner." You murmur.

"Noooooo." She grumbles, holding you tighter.

"Yesssss, I'm hungry and I'm teetering towards being hangry." You whine.

"And a hangry her is never good." Pansy snorts.

"Hey!" You exclaim with a pout.

"She isn't wrong, love. You are a tad bit scary when you're hangry." Lorenzo says, offering you one of his famous crooked smile.

"Meanie, your suppose to stand up for me." You grumble, crossing your arms over your chest as your pout.

Pansy snorts, rolling her eyes as she watches Enzo's cheeks flush red and he diverts his eyes to the carpet. Theodore clears his throat, catching Pansy's attention and he polity motions to your chest. Pansy snorts, loving how Theodore was always such a gentleman and it explained Enzo's reaction.

"Hun, you've got a few buttons undone and you're pushing your boobs up. I can see your bra too." Pansy whispers.

You flush red and immediately button up the buttons that came undone, struggling as the blouse was a tad bit tight, but you managed.

"Alright! We'll shower and head to dinner. Wait for us?" Theodore asks.

"Yep. Oh! I remembered what I was gonna ask this morning! I need one of your guys' extra jerseys for Friday. I may of forgotten your guys' custom made one for me at my house over break." You admit shyly.

"You can have mine, love." Enzo says softly and you smile thankfully.

"You're the best, Enz! I'd give you a hug, but you are a little sweaty." You say softly.

"She means a lot sweaty, but she's just being nice." Pansy says, her nose crinkling as she looks at the sweaty boys.

The boys all look at each other before grinning and tackling you girls into a hug as you girls squeal and beg for it to stop. You were being held against Enzo's sweaty chest and you look up with a pout as your nose crinkles slightly.

"That's not really nice, now we are all gonna have to shower." You grumble, your hands resting on his chest.

"Oh? What was that? You want more hugs?" He asks, the three of you girls getting passed between the guys once more before you ended up in his arms again.

"Uhhhh, you guys are such jerks." Astoria grumbles sleepily from her boyfriend's hold.

"She isn't wrong." Pansy huffs, shoving Theodore and Blaise away.

"Come on Y/n/n, let's go shower real quick." Astoria mumbles sleepily, holding a hand out to you.

You take her hand, looking at Pansy who takes your other outstretched hand.

"Together?" Theodore asks, his cheeks flushed red as the guys gape at you three.

"Oh yeah, we are gonna just lather each other up with soap and wash each other hairs." Pansy says sarcastically, winking at them as she smirks.

"We technically have showered all at once on a few occasions. I mean we are best friends and we've seen it all before." Astoria says with a shrug.

"And if we are going to get to dinner on time, I guess we'll have no choice." Pansy says, sighing with fake disappointment.

"Uh, can I watch?" Theodore asks before getting smacked by the other guys.

"Uh, girlfriend?" Blaise says in a duh tone.

"We are husbands, we can share a wife." He says.

"My girlfriend." Draco says in a duh tone.

"And no one can see Y/n/n." Mattheo says, his eyes flickering to Enzo.

You start to lead the girls out of the Common Room, heading towards your guys' shared dorm—even though it was just you a majority of the time in here.

"Alright, we have to study hard tonight guys. You boys have a Quidditch game tomorrow and if you don't pass your tests tomorrow, you'll be benched." Pansy says, walking in front of the boys who sat in a line.

You couldn't help, but giggle as Pansy was practically a General of sorts for these boys. She looks at you sharply and raises one of her perfectly sculpted eyebrows.

"You got something to say over there, pipsqueak? I believe if you fail the tests you get a week of detention." She says and you groan, sinking down into a seat next to Blaise.

"Ha!" Astoria says, pointing at you.

"If you fail, you'll be in detention for two weeks and excluded from any extra curricular as well." Pansy scolds.

Astoria sighs and sits down, the group zoning out as Pansy rants before leading them to the library where they take up four tables, the four most needed subjects to be studied for. You were sat next to Enzo who was entirely focused on his studies.

You studied for an hour and still have an hour and a half before dinner which was when this study session was going to be ended. You decide to rest your eyes for a moment, completely unaware of what could have gone wrong.

"Enzo? What are you doing in here?" You ask softly.

His hair was tousled, almost as if he had run his hand through it. His eyes weren't their normal soft and welcoming brown. There was a darkness to them, an edge to them you haven't seen in those eyes before.

"I can't stand it when you're so kind to those fools, love. Can't you see that they just want your attention because they think you're pretty? They don't actually need your help." He says.

His voice sounded an octave deeper as he takes slow deliberate steps towards you. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"They just needed help, Enz. Why is it bothering you?" You ask softly, putting a hand on his arm.

"Because I see the way they look at you. They look at you the way I look at you. They want you, love. They want you like I want you." He murmurs, his eyes slowly looking over your face.

Your lips part in surprise as he wraps an arm around you, pulling you in. He leans down, kissing you hard. You kiss back softly, surprised by how soft his lips were despite the bruising force. His hands find your hips, slowly trailing down to the backs of your thighs. With a barely audible whisper of the word "jump", you do as your told, wrapping your legs around his waist.

His lips were on yours once more, climbing on the bed, slowly crawling up it before lying you down in the middle. He kisses down your jawline, unbuttoning your blouse with skilled fingers. He lifts you slightly, letting you shrug off the blouse as he reaches a hand behind you and undoes the clasp of your bra with two fingers.

"Enz." You whisper softly as he kisses down your neck.

Your fingers begin to undo the buttons to his button up, the two of you slowly working out of clothes. His pillow soft lips find yours once more and you tangle your fingers in his brown locks, holding him closer.

His lets a hand travel down between you both, groaning as he gathers your wetness on his fingers. You whimper, letting him toy with yours folds before pushing yourself in his hand as he pushes a finger inside of you.

"Enzo." You whimper, arching up to be closer to him.

"You're so pretty, baby." He murmurs, leaving marks behind on your neck.

You mind felt foggy, feeling as if you were in a state of shock because this was finally happening. This means he wants you too, right? He's had feelings all along?

"You gonna take my cock like a good girl, baby?" He murmurs, his lips brushing against yours as you looked up at him with your innocent eyes.

"Mhm, I will Enz." You whimper, squirming beneath him.

"You're my good girl, baby. My good and pretty girl." He murmurs as he slowly pushes his cock into you.

You whimper, your nails digging into his skin as you felt yourself stretch to accommodate him. His swollen lips find yours, swallowing your whimpers and soft moans.

He groans, his eyes fluttering closed as he rests his forehead against yours, letting you adjust.

"Oh Enz, you feel so good." You whimper, squirming once more.

He moves, leaving soft kisses on your neck as he starts to move his hips at a slow pace before he slowly picks up the pace. You moans grow louder and closer together as a coil of heat winds in your stomach.

"Such a pretty girl. Taking my cock so good. Mmm, you're such a good girl, baby. You're my good girl." He whispers.

"Your good girl, Enz, only yours." You whimpers

"That's right baby, only mine." He murmurs.

"I'm close, Enz." You whimper, your nails leaving behind bloody crescents in his arms.

"Cum for me, baby. Cum for me like the good girl you are." He murmurs.

"Enzo!" You cry out, coming around him.

He whimpers softly, feeling you squeeze around him. You whimper, feeling his warm seed coat your walls.

"Such a good girl, baby." He whispers into your hair.

"Need you, Enz." You whimper, your lips brushing against his cheek.

You jump awake, looking around slowly as your face flushed red. You realized everyone was still studying and you clench your thighs, feeling your soaked panties. You couldn't believe you just had a dream about your best friend—-right next to him.

"How was your nap, love? I promise I won't tell Pans. You needed it." He says, smiling softly at you.

"Uh, good. I...I'm going to go ahead and go a little early." You mumble.

"Oh? You okay? I can go with you." He says.

"No, that's okay. I-I just need some fresh air." You say.

"Oh...okay, see you later then?" He asks, smiling at you.

"Yeah, later." You whisper, grabbing your stuff and quickly leaving as you ignore Pansy's calls back.

"Here's Enzo's jersey. He said he tried to wait up for you, but you were taking too long." Pansy says, tossing it to you.

You chew at your lip nervously before you throw on the jersey. It was one from last year.

"I-uh-I dunno if I'm going to the game." You murmur.

"What!? This is the big game. At least one of the two. It's against Gryffindor!" She snaps.

"Easy." Astoria scolds.

"Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry." You mumble, scurrying away as she sighs and calls for you.

You hole yourself up in the bathroom until it's literally minutes until you had to leave. You slide the jersey back on, putting your hair in a ponytail with a green and silver ribbon. You slide your skirt on, tugging at it before rolling your eyes.

It was Astoria’s turn to do laundry this week which probably meant she forgot and did some spell which shrunk your guys' clothes—again. You slide your shoes on before you make your way to the field alone.  You couldn't quite get to the girls because the stands were so packed, so you stood a few rows up. You huff as you feel someone keep tugging on your ponytail.

You ignore it and focus on the game that began. They were currently matching up and you saw Enzo looking at the stands. You smile awkwardly when he spots you and he waves so you do the same before you see his frown as he focuses on the person behind you who was still tugging on your ponytail. You huff and pull it away again, turning around to glare at them.

"Please stop it. I'm sure you wouldn't like it if I was pulling on your hair." You scold softly.

"Awww, she can't even stand her own ground. So soft spoken and she says please. God, you are a disgrace to the Slytherin house." He cackles.

He was a year above you and you frown at him, your eyes watering and you turn around, looking down as you cross your arms over your chest.

You ignore the tugging on your ponytail and try to focus on the game, Gryffindor was winning because Enzo kept missing hits as he was watching the stands. Your ribbon is pulled free and your hair was whipping everywhere because the wind. You turn around and try to snatch your ribbon back, but he holds it above your head.

"Give it back you jerk!" You exclaim, trying to grab it.

"God, you are pathetic. Who wears ribbons in their hair? You act like a child all the time and hide around those jerks who think they run the Slytherin house." He laughs.

He elbows you when you managed to get a hold on it. This was your favorite ribbon. It was from Enzo a few years back. You stumble and fall down. One of the first year girls help you up, offering you a sad smile.

"And Berkshire is heading for the stands along with the Riddle twins. It seems that...Anderson is picking on Y/l/n." Neville announces.

"Give it back to her, Anderson." Enzo says.

"And leave her alone or we'll punch your face in." Mattheo warns.

"Pathetic." Anderson hisses at you, giving you the ribbon.

"What did he say, love?" Enzo asks.

You shake your head, looking away.

"Arms up." Mattheo says.

Your eyebrows furrow, but you do as he says. Both he and Tom grab a hand and lift you slightly where you feet were a few inches off the ground, to the front row with Pansy and Astoria to ensure Anderson won't bother you again. Pansy takes your ribbon and gently gathers your hair into a ponytail before tying it. Enzo was a lot more focused on the second half of the game and somehow Slytherin managed to win.

You knew there was an elaborate party planned. You were feeling a bit insecure about you place with your friends after Anderson, so you branched off from the girls who were waiting for their boyfriends. You reach your dorm, curling into a ball on your bed and falling asleep.

You were sitting in the Common Room with the girls again. It was a little over a week since the big win against Gryffindor. The boys were practicing for their next match even though it was Saturday.

You had managed to avoid Enzo since the game against Gryffindor and somehow managed the same at yesterday's game. You managed to find an excuse as to why you couldn't do movie night last week. You tried to find a way to distance yourselves from the girls, the thing Anderson said really bothered you, but Pansy wasn't having it.

"What's going on with you? You've been acting strange." She notes, closing her book.

Astoria looks up from her notes and focuses on the conversation. You frown, playing with the hem of your skirt and sigh.

"Am I...childish?" You ask.

"What? No! Why would you think that?" She asks.

"Anderson said something about me being childish and that I hide around your guys." You mumble.

"Anderson is an asshole. You aren't childish. We love you the way you are and you don't hide around us. You are equally as apart of our group. No one hides." She says, smiling at you.

"Okay." You murmur, smiling slightly.

"Now, what's going on with you and Enz? You've been avoiding him." She says.

"Nothings going on. I haven't been avoiding him." You say quickly.

"You have. He's been real upset about it. He thinks he did something wrong. You canceled on movie night with him last week and you owled him to tell him you didn't think you'd be able to do it tonight. You've got nothing to do and we know that, so what's up?" Astoria asks.

"I...I realized that after these past few weeks that those feelings I've grown to develop for Enz haven't gone anyway. They are getting stronger. I...have you guys ever had a dream about one of the guys?" You ask.

"No, I can't say I have." Astoria says.

"I have. I used to have dreams about Blaise and I before we got together." Pansy says with a grin.

"I've had a dream about all three of you." Mattheo says.

"Same." Theodore says, the pair walking in together

"Where's the others?" Astoria asks.

"Showering. Don't worry." Theodore says.

"Wait...you had a dream about Enz, didn't you?" Astoria asks in shock as she looks back at you.

You nod, your cheeks flushing red as you use your hair as a shield to hide from the four sets of shocked eyes.

"Enz has been torn up this past week. He thinks you hate him or something." Mattheo says.

"Turns out you fancy him! Wait until he hears this." Theodore laughs.

"Tone it done, boys. No one is saying anything. This is her business. Honey, I think it's time you talk with Enz. You're hurting not only him, but yourself by keeping this distance between you guys. It's obvious your feelings for him are growing. It's time you talk about it. Maybe he feels the same." Pansy says softly.

"No. It's fine. Maybe if I ignore it long enough it'll go away. I don't wanna lose him because he doesn't feel the same, Pans. I can't tell him." You say, shaking your head as you pull your knees to your chest.

"Honey, you need to say something." She says softly.

"No. It's fine. It'll be fine. I've been avoiding him, yes, but I'll put an end to that today. I...I should go get snacks for the movie night. Maybe make two pallets...no, he'll still think he's done something wrong if we aren't cuddling like normal." You mumble, thinking more to yourself than talking to your friends who felt bad for you.

"Practice was great!" Enzo exclaims, walking in with his hair dripping wet.

You were completely oblivious as you mumbled to yourself about different snacks and film titles, but then since you have to go out and get the snacks, you started to make a list in your head of some other things you needed.

"Is she okay?" Enzo asks quietly as he looks over you.

"I believe she's just making a list of items she's gonna grab when she heads into town real quick. See, snacks, clothes because Astoria shrunk ours again—wait! Astoria! You shrunk our clothes again!" Pansy exclaims.

"I didn't mean to!" She exclaims.

You get up, heading to your dorm, unaware that Enzo was following you. You sit at your desk and start to make a list.

"Love, can we talk?" He asks.

"Argh!" You exclaim, you hand knocking the ink pot over.

You mumble curses as you hurry to clean it up before turning to Enzo with a sheepish smile. He smiles slightly.

"O-Of course, sorry. I've been kinda in my head all day today." You admit shyly.

"Is something bothering you?" He asks.

"No, no, of course not. What do you wanna talk about?" You ask.

"Why have you been avoiding me?" He asks.

"I haven't been avoiding you, Enz. I've just been a tad bit busy is all." You say, smiling softly at him.

"So you have time for our movie night tonight?" He asks.

"Mhm. I just have to grab snacks. Anything you want?" You say.

"Just you, love." He says cheekily, winking at you.

"I-oh-well I'm getting snacks anyway. I have to get me some new clothes again anyway." You say shyly.

"You could just wear my shirts...or nothing, but whatever suits your boat, love." He says, smiling as he leaves.

Pansy walks in with raised brows and she gives you a grin when she sees your dropped jaw.

"I believe Enz just suggested he rather see me in his clothes or naked." You mumble.

"Okay...Enz is here, check...snacks is a check, as are the drinks...extra blankets is a check...I feel like I'm forgetting something. Am I forgetting something?" You ask as you look back at your list.

Enzo was lying on your bed, his arms behind his head as he watched you pace with your clipboard and quill.

"You right next to me." He says and your cheeks flush red.

"Enz, I'm being serious. Something is missing. Or am I going bonkers?" You ask.

"In my eyes you've always been a bit bonkers, but in the cutest most adorable way you can be bonkers. Nothing is missing though. I think you're overthinking per usual." He says.

"Jerk." You grumble.

You take your sweater off, leaving you in a white tank top and your skirt. You carefully climb onto the bed, careful not to flash him as Astoria unfortunately shrunk your guys' underwear as well and Enzo talked you out of clothes shopping today as he wanted to watch two films.

You start the movie, bringing the blankets up more as you were cold.

"Why are you so far away? Get over here, love." He says.

You scooch over slowly until he rolls his eyes and wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer to him. You sigh softly, resting your head on his shoulder and resting a hand above his heart. He rubs circles on your exposed side, slowly going higher. It wasn't strange for him to do this. Enzo was a very touchy person when it came to showing his affection.

"What was your dream about?" He asks.

"What?" You mumble confused.

"Your dream about me. You were talking about it earlier today. What was it that I was doing to you?" He asks.

"Oh...you heard about that...which means you heard everything after that too." You whisper as your nerves begin to start.

You go to get up, but he rolls over so that you're beneath him. You look up at him with wide eyes.

"You aren't going anywhere, pretty girl. We are going to talk about this." He says seriously.

"I-uh-oh." You splutter, your cheeks flushed red as your heart races.

"Is it hard to believe I like you too, love? I thought I had been making it pretty obvious." He mumbles, his eyes flickering over your face.

"You like me?" You squeak.

"Mhm, quite a bit. I never thought you'd like me, but then I overheard the conversation earlier and it was like a new hope for me." He admits.

"Enz...I never would've thought you would like me. I just thought you saw me as your best friend." You admit shyly.

"You'll always be my best friend, love. But, now we can be more too." He admits.

Your eyes flicker to his lips, wondering if they are as soft as they were in your dream. His eyes darken, catching where your eyes were focused. He leans down, kissing your lips softly. You hum softly as you kiss back, tangling your fingers in his hair. 

He trails a hand between you both, ghosting over your stomach before trailing down your thigh. You whimper as he moves his hand back up your thigh, moving it beneath your skirt. You try to squeeze your legs close, but he was in between your legs.

His fingers brush against your wet folds as he pulls away with a grunt. His eyes find yours and you flush red under his intense gaze.

"No panties?" He asks.

"N-No, Stori shrunk our clothes again." You whisper.

"Such a dirty girl, aren't you?" He murmurs, leaning down and kissing the column of your neck.

You let a shaky breath out as your eyes fluttered closed. You push yourself down closer to his hand that was between your legs. You whine softly as he rubs the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Enzo, please." You plead, squirming beneath him.

"So impatient, baby." He murmurs, nipping at your neck and eliciting a gasp from you.

Before you could scold him to hurry up, he was working his pants off. Your fingers went to his loosely buttoned dress shirt where you begin to unbutton it. He shrugs it off after kicking his boxers and pants off.

He starts to pull your skirt down as you stare at his hard cock that was thick and long, a vein bulging out the side of it, the head an angry red and oozing precum.

You sit up and take off your tank top, before lying back down. He hovers above you, kissing your lips so softly as he praises you and calls you beautiful as he sinks into you. You arch up into him, your nails dragging down his back as your walls stretch to accommodate him.

"Enzo!" You moan, his lips swallowing the sweet sound.

"Your alright baby, you're doing so good. Taking my cock like the little cock slut you are, aren't you?" He murmurs into your ear.

You clench around him, the dirty name making something twist inside of you as you let a breathy moan out. You never expected Enzo to say such dirty things.

"Enz!" You cry, arching your back off the bed as his thrusts speed up.

You squirm, feeling the overwhelming pressure building. He holds your hips, his teeth leaving marks all over your skin, leaving his claim. He wanted everyone to know that you were his. Now that he had you, there was no letting go.

"That's it baby, keep taking my cock like a good girl. You feel so good around my cock, so fucking tight." He says, his voice deeper—huskier.

You wished he'd keep quiet just for the fact that hearing him like that—was because of you and that made a whole new feeling wash over you.

His lips slant over yours, the two of your lips moving in sync. You follow his lead, sinking back further into the bed and he follows, deepening the kiss. Your hands get lost in his hair as he bites your bottom lip, swallowing your whimper as he deepens the kiss once more.

His tongue glides across your bottom lip, before teeth were clashing as the kiss got too intense. You both pull away, chests heaving as you both tried to catch your breath.

"Thank you, Pansy. I really appreciate it." You say, smiling softly as she helped cover all the hickeys.

"I get it. Eventually, he'll get a little control over himself. The boys, especially our boys, are all about staking their claim. I don't get it entirely either, but if it helps them sleep at night, so be it." She says, laughing softly and you join her.

You both walk to breakfast, getting lost in your guys' normal conversation. You were unaware of Enzo's eyes on you as you walked in.

His lips part, seeing you wearing an olive green sundress that ended a little above mid thigh. Your hair was down and the smile on your face lit up the whole room.

"You're staring." Theodore chuckles.

"Fuck, she's so hot...wait a damn minute. One, she covered her hickeys and two, there's over a seventy five percent chance that if she moves the wrong way in that dress she will flash someone." Enzo says, sitting up straighter.

"Look...I learned the hard way, but you've just got to trust her. Don't make the mistakes I did and make the foundation rocky in the beginning." Blaise says.

He sighs, looking at his plate as you and Pansy take a seat. He looks up and has to take a deep breath. He hated how much cleavage was on show, because he knew people would see you like this.

You looked beautiful.

But, he hated the idea of other men seeing you this way. He remembered his plan and reached beneath the table for the bouquet of flowers. Your lips part as he hands you the assortment of flowers.

"Will you be my girlfriend, Y/n/n?" He asks, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink as the boys whoop and tease him.

You smile and look at him like he was the only man in the world—a look that made him melt.

"I'd love to, Enz." You say softly.

The whole table whoops louder before being quieted by Professor Snape. You smile at Enzo, feeling really good about this.

[valentine-cafe]

hi!! I asked about mtf reader so I wanted to request something with valerius or any other character, I don't mind! reader just had top surgery so maybe some fluffy smut (light overstim and breast play if possible) with lots of praising

I'm pretty thankful to find authors who are comfortable writing mtf reader so thank u so much!! (⁠灬⁠º⁠‿⁠º⁠灬⁠)⁠♡

im so very thankful sorry if this isn't very detailed

˖⁺. “ pretty girl  . . . ” : 

﹙ top demon lord bf x bttm mtf reader ﹚.𖹭 ݁

. . . valerius ariti x mtf reader !! 🍓 : ﹙ demon lord ˖ rhytaari character ﹚

you just got top surgery - and your demon boyfriend wants to worship you a bit

﹙ cws ﹚: explicit content ˖ breast play ˖ slight overstim ˖ praise  | wc : 0.7k 

﹙ receipts ﹚: this is our first transfem request i think! thank you soooo much and we really hope that you enjoy this! no need to thank us, we always wanna be as inclusive as we can which is why we encourage the trans requests <3

꒰  other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore  ꒱

The small jiggle to your new flesh brought only elation to your head that laid back against pillows. Comfortable in the cotton. If only to further relax when warm fingers slowly rake up along your sides.

His soft breath hitch flutters your glimmering eyes up to his. Happiness pouring from them. Much like your legs down below leak at the minimal grinding the two of you shared but a moment ago.

“How’d they look?”

The demon bites onto his lower lip at your question. It is answer enough. But just to be sure that you are well aware of his delight, he murmurs: “oh, sweet thing. They are beautiful.”

A finger adorned in rings, like the rest of his hand, slowly eases circles around you areola. Feeling the familiar yet foreign flesh. He smiles at the gasp that he draws from your lips. Lightly pressing down at he center and joining with his thumb. A small pinch befalls your bud. Shooting unknown pleasure from the base of your spine.

“Does it feel good?” Valerius’ croon brings heat to your face that he hovers over directly. You all but nod. Receiving both of his hands that cup at your breasts. Stroking his thumbs in slow, yet firm circles around your nipples.

“Pretty girl. . .”

You already feel your eyes beginning to water. So you tilt your head back and drape a forearm across your brows. Your chest stuttering with shaky breaths as your sweet moans fill the air. If only to whine when you feel his comforting lips pepper kisses around your breasts. His long fingers fall back on massaging the plump flesh.

“Please, do not hide from me, my love.” It spins within your ears. Makes them heat at the helixes. “My pretty girls shouldn’t hide from me. Not when I’m making her feel good.”

You slip your arm from your teary eyes and bring them down to view his face just as his long, demonic tongue drips out of his mouth. Caressing one of your nipples and slowly swirling around. All the while - his gaze remains on yours. Lovingly. As though you are a god. A divine to a demon that he will worship for all eternity.

“Valerius,” you quiver. It is the only time that his eyes flutter shut. Brows crease at the center and he puts his full focus on your soft mounds. Switching. Sucking. Licking. At one point he ventures to the valley and presses a bite. So that you might remember him when you pull on a new shirt for a few days.

Your spine finds an arch. Breaths and pants leaving your swollen lips. You can all but moan as his hands and mouth adorn you. Smearing his aphrodisiac saliva that makes everything feel as though it is spinning. As though you are on cloud nine. And he simply takes you higher - and higher -

“V-Valerius -!” you gasp. A cry tittering along your voice. Your hips steer up against his. Your head tilted into the pillow as warmth coils at the core of your tummy. “V-Vale - please -”

“I am here, αγάπη μου. I am here. Sshh. . .” a large, delicate hand flattens along the small of your back. Pressing you closer as he continues his divination on your breasts. As though it is all that he knows. All that he has ever known. “You deserve - mmm - deserve this, pretty girl. All of it.”

The tears spill down your face. Hands shakily reach to thread into his long, gold strands that reminded you of sun rays. Streams of gold. It is all that floods your vision as arousal pools between your thighs with stuttered whines of his name.

“Doing so good,” he groans along your right breast. Hand massaging along the base as his lips and tongue lather over the nipple. As though he is addicted. And you are simply the sweetest of fruits. “That is it. Keep going. My good girl. My best girl.”

It is all you will hear as your head spins. As he caresses you with the softest of touches. And stirs pleasure through your body for the night to come. Until you are clinging to him. Whining. So that he might kiss you and swallow all of your sweet, sweets sounds.

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[all-pacas]

i know i've talked about it before but god. when house and chase are alone together their vibe is just.

chase is usually deeply and pretty happily subservient to house. he's the boss/mentor, chase is the underling. where cameron and foreman both push to be house's equal, chase really never does: he's happy to follow along. but then you get them alone. every now and then chase just strolls in and reveals he can see through house perfectly, and house … never really gets offended or annoyed by this. he's pretty indulgent. he even enjoys it. "sometimes i forget why i hired you," he says, pleased.

in the jerk chase calls him out for cancelling foreman's interview. unlike when foreman did the same, house admits it, clearly pleased to be caught. chase offers him advice:

CHASE: You cost him a good opportunity and gained nothing. HOUSE: I cost him a crappy opportunity. New York Mercy's where you go to treat boils and cysts and build a 401K. CHASE: If you want him to stay, tell him. HOUSE: I don't and there'd be no point. CHASE: You do. And the point would be to make him feel like he's wanted. HOUSE: He doesn't need that. CHASE: All right, then. It'd make him feel like maybe you weren't evil. He needs that. Talk to Foreman.

he gives him orders. and house doesn't push back, doesn't dismiss chase for trying to lecture him, answers honestly.

in human error, they actually briefly continue this conversation; chase's frustration at house not taking his advice leads to his outburst that leads to his firing. (not that house fired him for getting involved or nosy.)

and then no more mr nice guy comes around, and they go bowling. first of all: this is the only time in the series house has ever invited anyone who is not named wilson out without it being a bet or a bribe. he really needed a bowling partner and went chase. but the same thing happens.

CHASE: So what are you going to do to screw up Wilson's relationship so you don't have to listen to me while you bowl? HOUSE: I wish the best for them and their tragically deformed children. CHASE: Well, she's good… At being bad. You might not be able to destroy her. HOUSE: Well as long as I give it my best shot, I can hold my head high. CHASE: Cameron had this one insufferable friend. She wasn't going to get rid of her and I sure wasn't going to join them, so I just said, see her on Thursday's. I know it's not as exciting as an exploding birthday cake, but, hell, I don't want to hang out with her every night anyway. HOUSE: That's amazing. Cameron only has one insufferable friend?

(insufferable friend you will always be a legend) chase just! jumps in! gives advice! completely casually, like it's nothing, house not blowing him off or dismissing what he says. later in the episode, he takes this advice and tries to work out joint custody with amber.

it isn't that house never takes other people's advice. he quite commonly solicits opinions. cameron and foreman have also both offered house their takes, and he's sometimes even listened. but usually he's dismissive. he's sarcastic. he doesn't have a conversation about it, he listens and does what he wants. chase can just stroll in and say stuff and house engages.

and of course there's my favorite example of all, from the social contract, when house needs a surgery done:

CHASE: You want me to help you? Tell me why. HOUSE: Why what? CHASE: Why you care. The puzzle's solved. The guy's alive. And the odds of coming out of this surgery with that same status aren't that great. HOUSE: My patient has a quality of life issue. CHASE: He says awful things. Hardly a medical condition. HOUSE: When he leaves here, he's going to lose his family. He's gonna alienate the people he works with. And if he ever finds a friend who's willing to put up with his crap, he'll be lucky. Until he drives them away too. CHASE: …I'll see what I can do.

he gets the truth. house all but says i identify with this person, i want the surgery done for me. chase doesn't ask questions, he gets it. but also he asks house why, and he gets an answer. no bullshit, no evasion.

we've all joked about how chase gets house, but it's like. he really does. he's incredibly observant, he's good at reading people, it's why house hired him. but he also doesn't… push. he doesn't use this ability to push house. he's not constantly trying to poke and prod and fix and understand house (because he kind of already does), but in return it means chase can jump in and just say stuff. because he doesn't make demands, because he doesn't ask anything of house, the few times he does, house tends to respond honestly in return. it makes me. insane

[strangelysamantha]

leverage ☆

rafe cameron x fem!reader.

warnings: kidnapping, violence, mention of drugs, swearing, rude comments, guns, abuse, threats.

summary: when barry doesn’t get his money from rafe, he goes to the next best thing. you.

a/n: thought about this randomly haha. i hope you enjoy and if you do, please like and comment! :) requests are open and even if you don’t have a request, you can always ask a question or tell a funny joke instead. <3

master list is pinned.

——————————————————————————

“if you don’t give me the money, your ass is gonna be sorry.” barry stared at rafe while he ran his hands through his hair. “i promise. i’ll get you the money, man. i just need some time.” barry laughs, “you better or this won’t be pretty.” barry hesitated before continuing, “and, i mean you don’t have a lot of time. i'd say a week max.” rafe nodded, understanding. “alright. i’ll get it, don’t worry.” barry laughs, “i’m not worried, trust me on that.” he smirked before walking inside his trailer. rafe hopped on his motorcycle, speeding away. his mind running as he thought of ways to come up with twenty grand. he only had a week, and he was definitely stressing out.

rafe didn’t inform you about his entanglement with barry. perhaps if he had brought it up, you wouldn’t be where you were currently. you were working, just going on about your day. a customer had asked you to walk them to your car. it was an elderly woman; you couldn’t deny her some assistance. you smile, “of course! which car is yours?” you asked, heading towards the parking lot.

in retrospect you should have concluded how abnormal it was for an elderly woman to have parked so far away in such a dark car. she laughed once you approached the car, and that was when a rock was smashed against your skull. then a sack was thrown over your head. rope contained your hands, forcing them against your back, burning from the fiction of the rope rubbing together.

you stopped fighting, realizing it was useless, and whoever was kidnapping you would only become more agitated and aggressive. you were pushed into what felt like a backseat, a needle inserted into your arm, making you unconscious.

the next time you wake up, it’s in an unfamiliar room. it’s dark, and humid. you try and lift your arms but realize they were still held together firmly, with rope behind your back. as well as your wrists, your ankles were tied together too. you tried to speak, and surprisingly your voice, despite being hoarse, was able to make noise. “hello?” you called out.

barry walks in, a gun in his hand. “oh wakey wakey sunshine.” your face twists with confusion

. “i- what? why? why am i tied up? what’s going on?” you bombard him with questions he never answers. “that boyfriend of yours… he’s not going to be so happy now, is he? he’s short, 20 grant short, and because he can’t pay me, i’m gonna take the next valuable thing he has. that’s you.” you close your eyes, inhaling deeply. you didn’t want to freak out and spiral. “he’s not my boyfriend. i mean what the fuck barry?” you stared up at him. “oh, oh shit. you actually aren’t rafe's girlfriend?” you roll your eyes. “no. he doesnt want to date me.” you frown at your own confession. barry looks at you with sympathy. it didn’t last though, now he was overwhelmed because the leverage he thought he had wasn’t even leverage. “shit… man.”

rafe on the other hand, was terrified. while rafe wasn’t your boyfriend, he definitely liked you the most out of all of his friends. he concluded that he loves you, but he’s been too scared to make any moves. that wasn’t what terrified him though, what was currently nagging at rafe was the fact that you hadn’t met with him. the two of you had a daily schedule that included you stopping by his house after work.

with you not stopping by his house, on top of you not answering his texts. he began to feel worried. rafe's phone dinged indicating he got a message, and he practically sprinted to the phone. he saw a message from barry, it was a video. he hesitated before opening it. his eyes widened in horror as the video he was watching was of you. a gun pressed against your temple while you were tied up in a chair.

he tightened his grip around his phone, his jaw clenched, and chest heavy. he examines the video playing in front of him, inspecting it to see if he recognizes the background. rafe’s heart hurts as he has to rewatch you fear for your life due to his mistakes. he unfortunately didn't recognize the background.

he didn’t have time to play games, he immediately responded to barry. he shot back a text, asking why the fuck he had you, and where he was. barry immediately responded, do you have the money? rafe groaned, his hands on his head as he paced around his living room. his heart was stinging at the thought of the situation he had put you in. he should have saw this coming, should have noticed that you were the thing barry could ruin.

you stared at barry, tears welling in your eyes. he frowned at your condition, "poor girl, i'm sorry you're in the middle of this, but i'm not letting rafe get away with robbing me." you gasp for air, "please don't kill me." he sighed, bending down in front of your chair, he moved your hair out of your face. "i'm not going to hurt you sweetheart. i know its dramatic, but you won't be harmed," he smirks to himself, "how about you help me?" your face contorts into confusion, "how?" you look away. "how much does rafe care about you?" you sigh, unsure of how to respond. "tell me or there will be issues. i said i wouldn't kill you, but that's only if you cooperate with me."

"he said before that he loves me, he wants us to date, but when i asked him, he told me he had bigger stuff on his plate. he wouldn't have time for me. after that, it became weird..." your voice trails off, he hums in response. "i see, so he loves you, but he's worried he'll corrupt you." you nod slightly. "you're the only girl in his life, yeah?" you shrug, "yeah, but even then, he won't date me." this causes a smirk to hang on barry's lips. "what if we got back at him? he dragged you along, and he stole my money. what if we worked together?" the thought of backstabbing rafe made you nauseous. barry could tell you were reluctant. "do it or i will make sure he'll never be able to find you again, you'll be deep in the ocean with no chance of being discovered." his words terrified you, "okay, okay. just tell me what to do." he hands you your phone. "you're gonna call him. tell him you're okay. say that i let you go, out of the kindness of my heart." you nod sheepishly. dialing his number, rafe immediately picks up.

"are you okay? what's going on?" you sigh, "i'm okay, he let me go." your words shock rafe, he's silent. "i don't know, he just let me go out of the kindness of his heart. i'm okay." he's relieved, but he's aware that he still had a lot of cash he needed before he could make it right. "can we meet?" he asks. you look up at barry and he shakes his head no. "uh maybe in a bit. i'm a little shaken up. i want to shower and have some time y'know?" you explain. "i understand, just call me whenever you're ready, okay?" you smile softly, "of course, goodbye." you hang up, barry claps. "very good performance, i even believed it."

"what's your plan?" he grins happy you asked. "you're gonna be my girlfriend. you're gonna stay here with me, help me bag up the drugs, count cash, and when rafe decides to return the money, he'll see you here with me. we will kiss or whatever, and you're going to tell him that you saw the good in me. that you fell so hard at my words. rafe will realize he waited too long." while the idea of this was supposed to upset you, the thought of rafe seeing what he was missing out on, gave you a sort of edge. you thought that maybe you can come out of this with rafe announcing his love for you. "okay. will you drive me to mine? i want to change out of my greasy work clothes." he grins grabbing his keys, "of course baby." you narrowed your eyes at him, "just because were pretending to date doesn't mean you have to call me cute names." he chuckles, "we need to practice that way its convincing."

you sigh realizing how deep of a mess you were actually in. it made you feel better knowing that you weren't actually trying to do anything. you had to do this, barry had put your life on the line. if you didn't obey his every order, you could find yourself tied back up in a chair. "okay. how will we make this convincing?" he chuckles, "itll be easy. we're gonna get you cleaned up, then i'm going to have rafe meet me here. he'll see you working for me and man he'll get so angry."

you nod, and he unties you from the chair. he leads you to his motorcycle, speeding off to your house. upon arrival, he allows you to go inside to change. “i’m coming with. no time for any games.” you scoff but head inside. he follows you to your room, you hop into the shower. barry looks around your room. seeing your decor, jewelry; and photos of you and friends. he quirks a small smile, barry was very impressed by himself. he figured this was probably his best idea yet. once out of the shower you change into shorts and a shirt. you hesitate when you saw your reflection in the mirror. you were terrified of what might happen.

“so, we need to wait a few days, make it seem like it has time to naturally develop, yknow?” you nod, “yeah that makes sense.” he holds his hand out. “i’m gonna need your phone.” you roll your eyes, “why?” he tsks, coming into your personal space. “because i don’t trust you.” he snatches your phone from you, drafting out a text for rafe. going to need some time, today was a lot. i’m sorry. he smiles, satisfied with the text, he sends it. your heart swells again, fear crowding your senses. “pack a bag.” you nod following his instructions.

“okay good.” he picks up your bag, “we’re going back to mine, i need some help.” you cowardly follow him out of your own house, getting back onto his motorcycle. your head was swarming, but you tried to clear it as best as you could. you arrived back at barry’s trailer, heading inside, he sets you up with a scale to help him measure out his drugs. you sigh but start to fill the baggies. “good, you work on this for a bit and i’ll be back later.” he speeds away, and you continue the task.

shortly after, you hear a motorcycle approaching. assuming it’s barry you don’t move, continuing so he doesn’t yell at you. after four loud bangs, you can hear rafe on the other side of the door. you nervously glance around. unfortunately, barry had your phone. despite how badly you wanted to open the door, you knew barry would freak out on you. rafe looks around his hands on his head. “yo i got your money, c'mon man.” barry pulls up, seeing rafe.

“what was that?” rafe suddenly turns around. “i have your cash.” barry, impressed by how quickly rafe managed to get the money, eagerly smirked. “alright come in, we gotta count it.” rafe shakes his head but follows inside. at first, he doesn’t notice you, already used to barry having guest over. barry plops the heavy bag onto the floor, pulling out the stacks of cash. “ooh this shit is nice.” rafe chuckles, “i follow through on my deals, so we good?” he looked over, realizing who was actually messing with his drugs. “what the fuck is she doing here?” you struggle to make eye contact with rafe, your heart hurting. “you told me he let you go?” you look down, staying silent. barry intervenes, “well girls like men who are up front about how they feel…” he chuckles darkly, “wait too long to express it and then you’ll lose em’. ain’t that right pretty girl?” you look up at barry, his eyes locked on yours. “yes that’s right.” rafe could feel his anger boiling over him. he couldn’t believe it. “you really like this fucking loser?” you stop weighing the drugs, finally managing to meet his gaze.

“she’s perfectly content with me country club.” rafe's hands form into a fist. “nah this isn’t right.” he walks closer to you, bending down. he gets onto your level. he stares at barry. “i need to hear it from her.” you swallow a deep gulp, rafe being close to you now. “tell me,” you glance between the two men in front of you. fear settling over you, unsure of what to do. on one hand you weren’t sure if barry was still intent on doing the jealousy gig, but you knew rafe was vulnerable and you couldn’t hurt his feelings.

looking at barry, he mouths a “tell him.” you nod, “look i know it’s really sudden rafe. and i’m really sorry…” your words sting his heart, and his face falls. he doesn’t say anything. “he is just really funny. and he’s sweet to me.” rafe chuckles, unable to control his venomous anger. “yeah and i wasn’t fucking sweet to you? i did everything for you.” you roll your eyes, getting into character. “you LIE. you were the reason i got kidnapped. you don’t tell me how you feel, but i’m just supposed to wait around until YOU feel like the timing is right?” his eyes zoned in on you, he looked you up and down, noticing the powder on your fingers.

he was stuck, he knew something was off. you’d never willingly mess around with drugs, and you definitely wouldn’t be slumming it with barry of all people. “what’s he got you into?” disgust forms on his face, he looks between the two of you, scoffing. you have nothing else to say, so you look at barry. he nods in approval, and you have to hold in a sigh of relief. “see? i keep her tamed.” your face twisted in confusion in a slight second, and rafe caught on. “are you done counting yet? or do you need me to do it for you?” barry laughs, “it’s all here. your debt is paid.” barry places the money back into the bag, “are we done here?” rafe looks at you one more time, “yeah we’re done here.”

without a second of hesitation, he leaves the trailer. his hands cover his face, trying to steady his breathing. he couldn’t fight the anger that was creeping in.

back in barry’s trailer, he’s laughing mischievously. “that went perfect.” you frown, “am i done?” he sighs, “what, are you not having any fun?” you look around, “no, i just am tired. i worked all day and i just want to go to bed. in my bed.” he thinks for a moment. “fine, i’ll take you to yours. get some beauty sleep, but you’re stuck with me for awhile. rafe was on an ego trip regardless. he needs this.” you smile. “thank you.” you grab your bag, and head outside. you see rafe standing against his bike. you glance at him frowning. you wish he could drive you back home.

at your house, barry allows you to have your phone back on the one condition; you wouldn’t rat out the plan to rafe. you agreed, thankful to be able to rest alone. today had been so exhausting. you change into pajamas, hopping into bed. you look at your phone, seeing the numerous missed texts and calls from rafe. you frown, you felt so lost.

after a few minutes of lying in bed, you hear the doorbell ring. you didn’t want to answer it, but you were the only one home at the moment. you head downstairs, opening the door. rafe stands before you, “can we talk?” you move out of the way and invite him inside. “yeah, of course.” he follows you up to your room. you sit on your bed, and he’s pacing your room back and forth.

“do you actually like barry?” you stand up grabbing him, and he settles down. “no, not at all. he told me i had to do this to get back at you or he’d kill me.” rafe stares directly into your eyes, he grabs your neck, pulling you into a deep kiss. he pulls away gently, “i really love you.” he squeezes you tightly; “when i thought he got you… i wanted to kill him.” you place your hand on his cheek. “it hurt me so bad but i didn’t know what else to do.” he frowns at you, “it’s not your fault, i don’t blame you at all.” you pull him into a hug, and he squeezes you firmly, worried to lose you.

“he said we have to keep it going for a week or so.” rafe nods understandingly, “okay. are you willing to do that?” you look down, but he places a hand on your chin to make you look up at him again. “are you comfortable with that?” you close your eyes taking a deep breath, “no, but i have to be.” he groans, “this is all my fault. i’m so sorry.” you sit on the bed, and he joins you. “we’ll get through this. one week and then i’m all yours.” he places his hand on your thigh, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “i’ll be here to protect you.” you kiss him again, “that’s the only motivation i need rafe.” he grins. “if it gets too bad, i’ll fuck some shit up for you.” you nod, “thank you rafe.”

[thelonelyshore-if]

Oh well, Ring confusion aside, I actually have a new question!

I've still been thinking about that Jay PoV about when they rescued MC from the lake, and I can't stop thinking about Ravi initially not wanting the MC there (not to mention that ask about him regretting offering for the MC to go with him, too).

And now I'm curious but... What does Ravi think about a MC who just follows him like a puppy and is always full of sunshines towards him, no matter his teasing and what not? Like, 100% trust and sweetness and friendlyness. And on a side note, what does Jay think of such a MC following their best friend like that?

PS: I'm mostly asking this as an "early game" question, where MC may have had an instant crush on Ravi, but you can't properly call that the "crush stage" of the relationship yet, basically. Though of course, if you want, you can also answer it for crush or relationship stage! I'm just mainly asking for the current general time frame cause I think it's interesting if you take into account Ravi's behavior with the MC atm.

Oooh interesting question!!

Ravi's thoughts about MC in the early game here are mixed. He doesn't understand why the fog is letting something stay that it didn't bring in itself. That...scares him isn't the the right world. Concerns him, I guess. It makes him wary that there's something about MC he doesn't see yet. Something that changes things.

Ravi doesn't really like change.

That being said, he's interested in MC from the start for the same reasons. Not necessarily romantically, but more in a 'study you under a microscopic' kind of way. It's why he's friendly in the beginning, despite his reservations.

All this to say. If MC was a sunbeam of a person who instantly took a liking to him and trusted him and followed him around, he'd feel...weird about it, I guess? He's not usually the type of person folks are drawn to. They'd be some self-doubt there, and some suspicion.

On the other hand he likes being around that sort of person. People who are so full of life make him feel alive, and it's intoxicating. He'd grow very fond of MC very quickly, despite his reservations. Plus, if MC trusts him and follows him around, it'll be that much easier to keep them safe. If they stick together MC couldn't wander into the woods and get eaten or disappeared or whatever.

And tbh I don't think Jay would think much of it!! They'd find it a bit surprising--Ravi isn't really the type to make friends--but they'd be happy that there's someone else around who might be able to make Ravi smile c:

[tigerwing-animal-hrt]

Cat HRT 0 Months

My alarm went off, blaring in my ear. I turned it off and got up, heading for the bathroom.

Sure, getting up at noon wasn’t exactly early, but it was for me. Thank you being a night shift employee for giving me a reason to be up the hours that actually work best for me.

I brushed my teeth and got ready for my appointment, being sure to make sure my partner was awake to take me. She was sitting up by the time I was ready.

“Are you ready for your appointment?” She asked, checking she had her wallet.

“As ready as I’ll ever be. Here’s your keys.” I handed them to her and left the room, scooping small kittens out of the way before they got a chance to run in before my partner closed the bedroom door again.

The car ride was quiet, save for music playing as he drove. Until we got to the appointment.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” He asked, gesturing towards the office of Dr. Erian as a woman with budding horns, fur, and a tail walked out.

“Yes, I am,” I responded, a bit shakily. “Is that… I think I know her.”

“Want me to come with you?”

“Yes, please…”

We got out, and she must have seen the nervous and startled look on my face. “Is this your first appointment?” She asked kindly, looking at the way I clutched my fiance’s hand to my chest.

“Yeah. I think I’ve seen you talking about your experiences… Josie?”

“Yeah, my name’s Josie. You look petrified. Don’t worry. The doctor can be difficult, but you’ll be fine. Take the leap. I think you’d be happy.”

“Thank you…” I looked up at her. “Thank you. I should get in there, don’t want to be late.”

“Of course not.” With that, she was heading away.

My fiance looked at me. “Do you know her?”

“Kind of, I’ve seen her talking about her transition. Now let’s go before I’m late.”

We walked up to the doors, and into the reception area. He went and sat down on a larger seat, likely one meant for a dragon or similar creature. He laid down as I spoke with the receptionist.

“Appointment for James… at 2pm.” I said.

“Alright, I have you right here. Fill this out and bring it back to me.”

I took it and went to go sit and fill it out. It was a basic questionnaire, asking about health problems, identity information, the works. I got to the information about species and paused before writing Domestic cat- Felis catus. Longhaired tortoiseshell variant.

I signed the waivers after skimming them, then took all the paperwork back to the receptionist.

“Can my fiance come with me?”

“Sure, but she’ll have to wait for a few minutes after you go back there.”

“Alright, I’ll let her know.”

--------------------------------------------

“James?”

“Coming!” I got up, put my phone in my pocket, and walked to the nurse.

They led me through the doors and sat me in a room to take my blood pressure, pulse, temperature, ask me the usual safety questions. After I was done, the nurse got my fiance and we walked to the office of Dr T. H. Erian.

“Which one of you is the patient?”

My fiance pointed at me. “He is, I’m just moral support.”

I nodded and we both sat down opposite the doctor.

“I see you’re interested in becoming a… domestic cat?”

“Yes.” I gripped my fiance’s hand tightly under the desk, he squeezed back.

“And you’re a trans man?”

“Yes.”

“How unusual. Why a tortoiseshell? Those are always female, and you marked down male as your legal sex.”

“That’s complicated, doc.”

“I’d expect you to pick a coat pattern that you’d see on a male cat is all.”

“My answer won’t change.”

“Very well then, I’ll see what I can do. Have you been living as your preferred species for the last 48 months?”

“Yes, I have, doc.”

“Can you confirm this?” He turned to my fiance.

“Yes, yes I can.” He held up his arm, showing a faint line of scratches that were still healing. “This is because I gave him a bath yesterday.”

“Is that so? Hmm. I’ll need to develop the formula for you, but that shouldn’t take too long. Your prescription should be ready in about two weeks.”

“Thank you, doc.”

“You’ll need to make changes to your diet while taking this medication. More meat, less everything else. Read this pamphlet before you leave.” He handed me and my fiance both pamphlets about feline HRT. “Some things may differ in order and strength of effect, but all of this information will be relevant.”

“Am I the first trans man to be taking this?”

“Yes, and I’ll need you to log any and all effects to see how thins differ for you.”

“So he’s an experiment?” My fiance asked, standing and looking like she was half a step from hopping the desk and decking the doctor.

I put my hand on her arm. “It’s new and experimental. Someone has to be the first.”

“Exactly. Now. Any questions?”

“Will you call me when it’s ready?”

“Of course.”

“Will I be coming here to pick my prescription up, or will it be sent to the pharmacy?”

“I’ll send it to the pharmacy.”

“Alright, thank you. Oh, last question. Will it be an oral medicine, or an injection?”

“Oral is the usual route. Do you want injections?”

“Depends on if it tastes bad.”

“I’ve heard it isn’t too bad.”

I stood up, and my fiance and I left the office. I was shaking, nervous but excited.

-------------------------------------------------

I got the call that my prescription was ready, almost exactly two weeks later. I turned to my fiance, almost vibrating with excitement. “It’s ready!”

“Alright, get dressed, and let’s go.”

I scrambled to get ready, almost bouncing off the walls.

“Calm down, kitty. I know you’re excited.”

“But… but… but…”

“I know. Let’s go.”

-------------------------------------------------

My prescription was a bottle of small pills, enough for a month with instructions to take before bed each night.

“I wonder what happens if you take it during the day?” I showed them to my fiance.

“Feli- Felisterone?” Is that what it says?”

“Yeah.”

“Wonder what they taste like.”

“You’re not taking them, dear.”

“I know. I wasn’t going to.”

“Go play your game, dear.”

“Love you too.”

I made a post online about picking up my prescription, and a few comments on the timelines I saw, including the white tiger and a few others like Josie, since I’d met her briefly, telling her thank you in particular for giving me the push I needed. I commented on the king cobra guy’s, saying I was another transmasc on HRT. Same for the black arms timeline that crossed my dash shortly after.

I also commented on the slimes, werewolves, dragons, and bat that I saw afterwards. The lamias were neat- I asked to join a server about HRT.

I went to take a quick shower before my fiance gave me my testosterone shot and I settled in to play Farmer’s Life until it was time for my new medication.

My fiance handed me the pill bottle, my drink, and my stuffed animals.

“Here goes everything, I guess.” I took my first dose.

“Good boy.” She patted my head. “Do you feel any different?”

“No, but it’s only been a minute.”

“Still.” She tucked me in and then turned back to her game. “Night, kitty.”

First Prev Next (TBD)

[eocon-fr]

“Becoming world champion, that’s clearly my goal!”

ᯓ Translation of an interview of Esteban Ocon by Victor MOLLET, Dircom ADEKWA Lawyers, dating from 2017.

Esteban Ocon is one of the greatest hopes of Formula 1. Since the start of the season, the 21-year-old driver has taken his place in the Force India team. From his first race, he made an impression by becoming the youngest Frenchman to score a point in F1. Between two flights and two grands prix, he took the time to answer us, in a relaxed manner. One-on-one with a friendly and smiling driver.

When you were younger, your father asked you this question: "Do you want to be a pilot or a cashier at McDonald's?". What was your answer?

My father asked me this question because I wasn't very sporty at the time. I think he said that to tease me. It was direct but it made me react. Result? I immediately went running!

How did your passion for motorsport come about?

I have always loved cars. Motorsport is my whole life! My father is a mechanic and when I was little, I always had my nose in cars, in engines, in petrol…

Today, many young drivers advance their bank account to be introduced to a team. On your side, you have rather highlighted your talent…

Thanks already (smile)! Let's say that I don't have the same background as the majority of drivers, it was more difficult than for others. But in the end, with or without money at the start, the important thing is to win titles to be able to have a chance in Formula 1.

When did the F1 world start to get interested in you?

When I won! Starting with F3, when I started winning a lot of races.

How do you prepare to have a good season?

To be ready for the first Grand Prix of the season in Melbourne, Australia, I spent two months in Font-Romeu, at an altitude of 2,000 metres, in my physical training centre. I really did a complete preparation, with nine hours of cardio per week, ten hours of weight training, but also work on reaction, coordination, speed of visual detection or breathing at altitude.

Is it true that you gained more than four kilos of muscle during your preparation?

Exactly! I even gained five kilos in total! It was really very hard, not only did I have to push and make efforts during physical exercises but also at the table. I had to force myself to eat a lot, with a lot of proteins, almost ten eggs a day in addition to meat and starches… It was quite difficult.

What is the hardest part when you start a race, once inside the car?

Managing the others around you I think! Having the right reaction at the right time, in a fraction of a second. Decision-making is also extremely important to be able to position yourself in the right place when needed. And for that, mental precision is essential.

By finishing the first race of the season in tenth place, you became the youngest French driver to score a point in Formula 1. What does this do to you?

Pride, of course! I think that with the journey I had, it wasn’t easy to get to Formula 1. So to achieve something like that is great! I’m happy to have accomplished that and I hope to set other records in the future.

Is this the first line of a long list to come?

I'm working on it (laughs)!

What goals have you set for this first season in F1?

Clearly for me, my main goal is to score points in every race, to achieve as many “top 5” finishes as possible and, why not, to fight for podiums when possible. There is still a bit of work to do to get there but that is my goal.

How would you define your driving style?

In races, I try to be as thoughtful as possible. I don’t take unnecessary risks. I take them when the situation is right but I really think before starting a maneuver. But I also know how to be aggressive when necessary!

What do you think about, under your helmet, when you are at 300 km/h?

Nothing (laughs)! Mainly concentration in fact, but it is not particularly different from driving at 90 km/h.

What are your passions outside of F1?

Sport in general. I really like bodybuilding, I do a lot of it with my sporty friends, especially boxers. I also like mountain biking and tennis or table tennis. And spending time with my friends is what I like to do when I have a bit of free time.

Do you take the time to visit the countries you travel through between races?

When I have time, a little bit. But often, honestly, not really. Hotels, roads, airports, circuits, that's about all the visits you can usually make (laughs)!

Throughout a season, you are led to visit the four corners of the world... What is your favorite destination?

For now, I would say Monaco. It is one of my favorite destinations. I also like Abu Dhabi. I generally like the sun and the heat!

When you were younger, you regularly beat Max Verstappen, who is promised to play a leading role in the coming years. A sign for the future?

If I can fight with Max in the future, at the forefront, why not. I am working for it! Becoming world champion is clearly my goal, that is what I want to be in the future!

What is your relationship with the other drivers?

There is really a good atmosphere in the paddock, with a lot of respect. With some, there is not much more than respect, we will not go on vacation together but we get along well most of the time. Personally, I am close to Lance Stroll, Stoffel Vandoorne or Kevin Magnussen. These are drivers that I really like outside of racing. We have a good time between sessions when we have time to see each other.

What do you miss most about France when you are abroad?

Family and friends are definitely what I miss the most! And French TV too (laughs)!

Your main quality?

I always have trouble judging myself but I am often told that I am thoughtful and quite mature.

Your biggest flaw?

I am late, I take a long time to prepare! And I am clumsy!

Your favorite circuit?

The Hungaroring, the Hungarian Grand Prix!

The driver you get along with best in the paddock?

Kevin Magnussen

Your favorite driver?

Currently, I don't have one, even if Fernando Alonso still impresses me a lot. Historically, it is Michael Schumacher and Ayrton Senna.

If you had a song to listen to in your headphones during the race?

“Can't be touch”, by Roy Jones, a song that motivates quite a bit!

The “pink fashion” look of the 2017 Force India, what do you think of it?

It's good for Formula 1, it's a bit of a change.

Your hobby to disconnect and clear your head?

YouTube, definitely! I watch a lot of videos, especially from French YouTubers, is that what I like to do to clear my head.

A saying, a motto?

The important thing is not to win, it's just what matters!