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moni-logues · 2 years

Text

Thirteen Rounds

Pairing: Boxer!Jungkook x f!reader

Genre: smut smut smut smut smut! sex ban smut lmao; established relationship

Summary: JK's boxing coach tells him he can't come for four weeks before his title fight. Ah, four weeks isn't that long, right? ... Right?

Word count: 13.2k

Content: oral sex (m. and f. receiving), unprotected sex, masturbation (f.), orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, sex toys, uh implied come eating? (It's not mentioned but he comes in her then eats her out sooooo it's happening 😂), cutesy nicknames that honestly even make me cringe these days lmaooo

A/N: as I said in a post earlier today, this hit 6k notes on the old blog and I know crowing about notes is tacky and no one cares (and even I don't care! That's not why I'm here!), but I never really got to celebrate this fic when I posted it and it took the fuck off. So here's to another 6k 🤪🤪🤪

FOUR WEEKS TO GO

Jungkook walks slowly, very slowly, down the corridor to the door of your apartment. He does not want to go through it. He really doesn’t want to have to tell you what he’s about to.

Four weeks no sex.

That’s what Coach said. No sex, no masturbation, orgasms 100% completely verboten. He knows this is not going to go down well with you. From the very start of your relationship, you have never gone that long without sex. Jungkook isn’t sure he’ll be able to make it; he’s not sure if you will be either. A tiny part of him worries what it might do to your relationship – you’re stronger than that, aren’t you? This won’t hurt your relationship, will it? You’ve been together for years now, four weeks without sex can’t change anything… Right? Jungkook knows in his heart of hearts that it’s right but the thought of four weeks without you is so unutterably awful that he also can’t believe it won’t change things.

He flops face-first onto the sofa next to you and squirms immediately as you rake a hand through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly. Absolutely none of that from now on.

“You ok?” you ask and he can’t answer because the answer is no and he’s not going to be for another four weeks, another 29 days in fact. He mumbles nothing into the sofa.

“Just tired? Training hard today?”

Training wasn’t hard, especially. This conversation we’re about to have is hard, Jungkook thinks. Keeping his face shoved into the sofa cushion, he breaks the news.

“Jungkook,” slight impatience in your voice now. “I cannot understand you when you talk into the sofa; what’s going on?”

He lifts his head slightly but can’t bring himself to look at you.

“Coach says we can’t have sex until the fight.”

“WHAT?”

“We can’t have sex until the fight,” he repeats, quietly, miserably.

He clenches and unclenches his fists by his side, still not daring to look at you.

“But that’s four weeks away! Four weeks!”

“I know!”

He takes your hand and kisses it, leaning up on his elbows. He rests his head on your thigh, bumping it gently as if he were hitting it against a brick wall. He mumbles under his breath, as close as he ever got to invective against his Coach (whom he nevertheless trusts and respects deeply). You’re being quieter than he expected you to be and it makes him nervous. He expected outraged protestations, reasoned arguments, begging and pleading. But you’re sitting and thinking.

“Why?” you ask. “What’s it for?”

“He says it’ll improve my focus, power, and aggression if I don’t come between now and then…”

You hum in response and he risks a peek at your face. You’re smirking and something about it makes his stomach drop.

“So… You can’t come, but I can do whatever I want, hm?”

He hadn’t considered that. Of course, that makes sense; you’re not wrong, but Jungkook realises this with absolute horror. Not being able to fuck you for four weeks was going to be bad enough as it is, but four weeks of getting you off without a single second of relief for him? He feels sick.

“Noooo! Baby, please. Please, you have to do this with me.”

It’s not his usual role, but he is not above begging. You shake your head.

“No way; four weeks is a long time and I’m not fighting anyone.”

“I know it’s a long time! That’s why we have to do it together!”

“On the contrary, my sweet, little biscuit, the whole point is that we don’t do it together, isn’t it?”

You lean down and kiss his nose but it is of no comfort. He’s pouting now, both furious and devastated at this turn of events. When you start running your hands through his hair again and his dick twitches, he groans; this will kill him, he thinks. Stone cold dead, this is going to kill him. He holds your hand tight and looks at you, finally, dead in the eye, eyes wide and pleading, his absolute best puppy dog.

“Please,” he begs. “Please.”

“Why don’t we have one last night?” you suggest and Jungkook groans because he knows that tone. “You can start tomorrow. One night won’t make a difference, surely?”

You slide down the sofa until your faces are almost level and Jungkook is about to rest his head where your thigh was, but discovers your breast in its place. He holds still. This is his first test and, while you might have a point, he’s got rules to follow and he can’t break now, not at the very first hurdle. He’s got better self-control than that, hasn’t he?

“Hm?” you continue. “Start tomorrow… Come on, Kookie, please.”

He wants to say yes, of course he does, but if he’s going to last four weeks, he’s going to have to practise saying no.

You slide off the sofa onto your knees on the floor and he eyes you carefully. You’re dangerous and you know it. When you trail your fingers down his spine and kiss the back of his neck, he shivers.

“I want you so badly,” you whisper in his ear and he groans. You slip your hand underneath his T-shirt and he’s sticky with sweat. “I didn’t have you yesterday and now we have to go four weeks? Kookie, I can’t take it… Be good to me, Jungkook, please.”

He loves it when you beg. Hearing his name in your mouth all high and whiny, tremulous with need and desire. If he wasn’t hard before, he is now. Goosebumps follow your hand on his back and he shivers, groaning into the sofa, fists clenched again.

“My love, stop it, please. We can’t.” His voice is weak and he can’t believe how weak he’s feeling; if you persist might longer, he genuinely feels he might snap and he’s ashamed that his self-control is apparently all but non-existent. He must do better.

“But I’m so wet already.”

Fuck. He snaps. He kneels up and looks at you, your innocent, little face, a devil in disguise. If you’re just playing with him, just teasing, you’re going to be in big trouble.

“Get up,” he commands, slapping the sofa. You obey without hesitation and he grabs you by the legs, pulling so you’re falling onto your back. He tells him yourself you were lying, of course you won’t be wet; you’re just teasing him and he’ll tell you off and ask you to take this seriously and it’ll all be fine. Then he yanks down your trousers and your underwear.

“FUCK.”

He brings his hands to his face and rubs.

“Fuck, I thought you were lying just to tease me, but fuck, you really are.”

You are. Looking at you is almost painful; he’s desperate to touch you. You’re right there in front of him, legs spread, and all he has to do is touch you. But he can’t. If he starts, he won’t be able to stop. He shuffles back away from you slightly, hands moving to reach you and then pulling back. He swears again.

When you spread your legs wider and shuffle yourself down closer to him, he has to stand. He has to do something with his hands: clenching at his sides, on his hips, on his head, over his face. He’s pacing, too, unable to look at you once again. It would be all too easy to take his own trousers off, let his dick out of its cloth prison and fuck you into the sofa. He has to bite down on his knuckles to stop himself doing just that.

“Kookie,” you coo. “Aren’t you going to touch me? I need you… No one touches me like you do.”

Jungkook is open-mouthed and he has to turn away. He growls, deep in his throat, and gently places his fists on the kitchen counter, when what he really wants to do is smash straight through it. His whole body is tense, fighting itself in an agony of indecision. He needs you to stop; he’s sure you won’t. Not when you’re having this effect on him. He should’ve seen it coming. He knew you wouldn’t take the news well; for some reason, he didn’t expect you to immediately be so defiant. You were always so pliant and obedient for him. But then, this isn’t really his rule and you and his coach didn’t exactly see eye-to-eye.

He freezes when he hears the unmistakeable squelch of you plunging your fingers in your wet heat. Then you moan. Then you whimper.

“Jungkook, please.”

He can barely control his breathing as he stands, still with his back to you, unable to block the sound of you from his ears. He should be the one drawing those moans from you; he should be the reason your breathing is hitched.

He decides quickly that you have a point. He can’t come but that doesn’t mean he can’t do anything he likes. He crosses the space to the sofa in three large steps and forces your hand away from you. He doesn’t see the expression on your face as you look up; he’s too busy staring at his next meal. He squeezes your thighs hard and lowers his mouth to you.

“Fuck, yes,” you breathe and it goes straight to his dick.

He moans loudly as he licks from your core to your clit, drinking you in. He licks through your folds, not wanting to miss a drop. He swirls his tongue around your clit before sealing his lips and sucking hard; you grab at his hair and he flicks his eyes to you but your head is tipped back, your back arching off the sofa. He pulls your thighs, bringing you even closer, smothering him, burying him but if he can’t breathe, he doesn’t notice. He notices the pitch of your whines tilt; he notices your breath come quicker; he notices your thighs twitching under his hands; he notices you tugging harder and harder at his hair. He watches you as he works, alternately swirling his tongue across your throbbing bundle of nerves and sucking, until you’re screaming, your body writhing, shuddering under the waves of your orgasm.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he swears repeatedly, almost sure he hears you saying the same, but he can’t move his mouth from your lips; all that fresh arousal dripping from you has his name on it.

You squirm and bring your legs together, your feet pushing against his shoulders and he relents, shifting backwards but still gripping your thighs tight.

“I love you,” he says. “I love you, I love you but fuck, I fucking love your cunt.”

His hands move higher, his thumbs spreading your lips, running up and down, the slick noises they make like music to his ears. He whines as he drops his head to your thigh with a heavy sigh. He squeezes his eyes tight shut for a moment, trying not to lose all control even as his cock aches in his pants, desperate for you.

While he’s trying to keep it together, you extricate yourself from his grip and sink onto the floor. While he’s off-guard, you spread his legs and slot yourself between them. It’s only when his dick jumps as you slide your hands up his thighs that he realises what is happening. He leaps up and away from you in one, quick, fluid motion.

“No, no, no,” he mutters, hands tangling in his hair, twisting his T-shirt, gripping the kitchen counter, anything to stop them wandering to the bulge in his trousers. He’s painfully hard now, twitching with almost no provocation; his restraint is hanging by a thread.

“Jungkook,” you call for him, still kneeling on the floor. “Kookie, come here, let me help you.”

He growls and takes a deep breath. If he even looks at you right now, he knows he’ll snap.

“I’m going to shower.”

He has to get out, get away from you, anywhere will do.

“You better not wank in there!” you call after him. “Or I’m going to be really upset!”

He chuckles bitterly; as if he would ever choose his hand over your sweet mouth. He strips quickly and steps into the shower, turning the temperature as low as it’ll go and the power on full blast. He gasps as a strong stream of icy water hits him; he shudders and shivers and forces himself to stand still. He’s panting and his skin turns red under the blast but he can’t move, not until he’s flaccid, not until he’s stopped thinking about your beautiful pussy and your soft, hot mouth and no-! Enough of this. He calls to mind all his least favourite things, conjuring up the worst images he can, disgusting, horrible, anything. He just has to stop thinking about you.

When he’s finally showered and clean and soft, he leaves the bathroom. It’s not late, but you’re already sitting up in bed, naked as you always are, and he groans, trying to avoid looking at you.

“Hey now, that’s not fair,” you tell him, sulking with an exaggerated pout as he takes the towel from his waist and rubs it over his hair.

He almost chokes on his indignation.

“Not fair? Me not being fair? And what do you call that, out there? Is that fair, huh? And this?” He gestures to you, chest on display, arms just slightly squeezing your breasts together, as if you think he won’t be able to tell. “Is this fair?”

Swallowing hard and taking a deep breath, he sits next to you on the bed; he simply will not survive the next four weeks if he can’t get you on-side. He has to stop you reaching out to touch his cheek; he’s only just been able to lose his erection, he’s not sure he can manage another.

“I’m serious, y/n, I cannot do this.”

He’s not sure he can look at you anymore. The thought of spending a whole night next to your naked form, your soft skin pressed against him… He can’t. He can’t even think it without feeling a stir in his groin.

“I can’t do this. I’m going to sleep in the spare room.”

Never in his life has he been more grateful to have one. He’d sleep on the sofa or the floor if he had to, but, if he’s doing all this to improve his fighting, he needs to keep his sleep up, too.

“Jungkook! Don’t leave me!”

When he risks a look at you, you’re wide-eyed and open-mouthed, dismayed. He doesn’t ever want to be the cause of that face; his heart aches. Maybe this would affect your relationship after all. He returns to sit on the edge of the bed and takes your hand. He kisses your palm.

“I can’t- I… I can’t even look at you, right now, without wanting to jump you.” He says quietly, sadly. “I just-“

“I can put some clothes on?”

Your hopeful face squeezes his heart and he wishes that would be enough.

“No, baby, thank you but we both know that isn’t going to help. I know what’s under there.”

“So, we’re not even going to be able to sleep together for the next four weeks?”

“No, we will, I promise. I just… Right now, I just need to get away from you.”

He chuckles, trying to lighten the mood, but fails. He misses you already.

“Can I at least kiss you goodnight?”

Jungkook isn’t sure. He’s not sure the one thread of sanity he’s clinging to will last, but he has to give you something.

“Of course, you can,” he answers, with only a little hesitation. “But please… Be nice…”

You take his face in his hands and he shivers. You kiss him once, firmly, and then again, softly, sighing against his mouth. He wants to wrap his arms around you and kiss you again, wants to melt into your mouth and roll your tongue with his. Then he feels temptation in his groin and has to pull away.

“Night night, my little custard cream.”

“Night night, my love.”

He leaves, and shuts himself in the spare room, wondering just how on earth either of you will make it through the next 29 days.

THREE WEEKS TO GO

Jungkook isn’t home so you’re taking the opportunity for a little Me Time (courtesy of your favourite rabbit). It’s been a week since the last time you came (courtesy of Jungkook) and you’re on edge. You feel a little guilty for the way you behaved, but you’ve been good this week in penance, even though you’re already missing him terribly.

At night, when he wraps himself around you, his hard chest against your back, his strong arms holding you tight, you feel a steady pulse in your core. You want desperately to shift, just push your hips back a little, bring his hand to cup your breast, do something to address your need of him. It’s worse than usual because, of course, you always want most what you can’t have. Isn’t that a universal truth? Last night, you even wished he would go and sleep in the spare room again; having him so close to you, knowing that you can’t touch him like you wanted to was beginning to get unbearable.

Hence, Me Time.

Jungkook is out and not due back soon so you have plenty of time to take things slow. Or at least, that’s what you intend. You take a nice, long, hot bath; apply your favourite body lotion: a rich, thick, cocoa butter that makes you feel expensive; you potter around the apartment for a while in your sexiest lingerie – there’s no one to see you, but it makes you feel sexy anyway. You think about Jungkook. You think about his hair, too short for your preference at the moment; you like it a little longer, a little wavier, giving you plenty to grab onto at the nape of his neck just as at the crown; you like it when it flops into his face and he pushes it back; you like when he lets you plait it and style it, just for the two of you, just for fun.

You think about his beautiful, brown eyes: huge and wide, bright and shining, so open and innocent. You think about the way he looks at you sometimes, like you’re his entire world, like he’s looking at the most beautiful, peaceful sight he’s ever seen. You think about the way he looks at you at other times: like you’re prey; like he’s calculating exactly the right way to destroy you; his eyes dark, black, piercing; eyes that silently command and will be obeyed.

You think about his mouth: his soft, pink lips and two straight rows of perfect white teeth; you think about his mouth on yours, the unyielding pressure of his lip ring, the hard bite of his teeth on your bottom lip, his soft, wet tongue rolling against yours; his soft, wet tongue swirling around your nipple; his soft, wet tongue licking through your folds, flicking across your clit, his lips tight around you as he sucks. You think about his long fingers, their reach; his strong hands and how they direct and control you, pinning you down and lifting you up.

You think about his cock, the prettiest you’d ever seen (though you weren’t surprised, given the rest of him); in perfect proportion, neither too long nor too thick, a slight, gentle curve, smooth but for one thick vein running the length of it. It makes your mouth water just to think of it; your pussy throbs, missing it and you settle on the bed. You can feel the crotch of your underwear is already sticky and your heart is already thumping but you’re still telling yourself that you’re going to take this slowly, because you have plenty of time.

You discard your bra, teasing your nipples beneath it, twisting at the barbells that run through each of them, remembering the way Jungkook had reacted the first time he saw them, as if it were Christmas morning and they were a brand-new puppy and a skateboard. You slip a hand down behind the waistline of your knickers and exhale sharply as you spread your juices across your clit. You’re aching now, with desire, with frustration but you take deep breaths to calm yourself down. You let your fingers work slowly, gently, dipping down between your lips to your entrance, exploring your folds, teasing and tapping your clit. It was almost like stepping into a bath: enveloped in warmth as blood rushed to the surface of your skin, cocooned in pleasure as it radiates outwards from your core to the tips of your toes. Goosebumps spread as a shiver rushes down your spine.

Then you get out your rabbit and the lube and shuffle out of your underwear. You coat the toy with lube, wipe your hand against yourself and turn it on, letting it rest against you for a moment, cycling through the settings until you reach your favourite. You think, not for the first time, as you slip it inside you, smoothly, easily, how much you wish you had one of these moulded from Jungkook’s cock. He thought you were joking the first time you said it, but you weren’t then and aren’t now. You want to be able to have him inside you even when he wasn’t around – or at times like this when he is around but isn’t allowed inside you. Nothing compares to him and while this toy might get the job done, it will never be the same.

The little rabbit ears press intently against your clit as you angle it inside you and start to rock your hips, working out a long, soft moan. You tip your head back and close your eyes, focusing on the coiling pressure in your abdomen. You cycle to another setting – higher, faster, more insistent now – and whimper with every breath as your climax comes closer.

“God, I’ve missed that noise.”

You sit up with a jolt to see Jungkook at the bedroom door, eyes roving hungrily over your naked body.

“Jungkook,” you gasp. “What are you doing here? I thought you had plans.”

He shrugs.

“Changed ’em... Though I might be sorry I did.”

“I thought you were going to be out... But since you’re here...”

You beckon him to the bed as you switch off the toy. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head with a sigh as he approaches you on the bed. You’re surprised; you thought he would refuse, hold back, protest even a little. Maybe this would be easier than you thought.

He looks at the rabbit, appraising.

“How does it compare, baby?” he asks, his voice low, a smirk just ghosting over his lips.

“It doesn’t, Kookie.” You flop backwards onto the mattress again. “Nothing compares to you.”

“Let me help you.”

You sigh with relief, waiting to hear his trousers unzip or the shuffle of cloth as he undresses but it doesn’t come. Instead, you hear the quiet whirring of vibration as Jungkook turns the rabbit back on. He chooses a different setting – short, intense pulses – and slips the toy back inside you, pushing the ears hard into your clit, forcing a choked moan from your throat.

“Jungkook... Kookie, no. I want you.”

The look on his face is fierce but softens when he looks into your eyes. He kisses your temple and whispers in your ear.

“You know you can’t have me now, baby. Stop playing dirty.”

He takes a hand and pushes low on your stomach as he rocks the toy inside you and changes the setting: insistent, hard vibration that almost sets your teeth chattering.

“Fuck,” you whisper as your walls start to clench and all your muscles tighten and you’re whimpering, mewling, seconds from climax, your breath catching in your throat. You’re a band stretched to its limits and just as you’re about to snap, Jungkook pulls the toy from you and sits back on the bed, not touching you.

“Wh-.. I...”

You look at him, dazed and confused, as he stands up and takes the toy with him out of the room.

“Where are you going?” you call after him, your voice weak and strangled.

You’re itching with frustration and impatience and when he returns, only a minute later, you turn to him, outraged. He’s empty-handed and he sits on the edge of the bed next to you and tucks your hair behind your ear sweetly.

“What are you doing?” you ask, still breathless, heart still pounding in your chest.

He leans closer to you, resting on his forearm on your chest, lightly crushing you beneath his weight as he takes your hand in his and directs it to his crotch, where you can feel his dick, semi-hard under his trousers.

“I’m showing you how hard this is,” he whispers menacingly in your ear. “You’re still not playing fair, little miss.”

He stands and walks out of the room, looking back over his shoulder at you.

“If I don’t get to come, you don’t get to come!” he calls.

You give a little, angry shriek and throw a pillow at him, which misses by miles, and you storm out after him.

“I did not sign up for that!” you shout, giving him a shove.

He grins at you and raises his eyebrows.

“What’s mine is yours, baby.”

“No way! No way! You know the second you leave, I can just make myself come.”

“That’s true,” he admits as he checks his watch, “but I’m not leaving again tonight.”

Furious now, you move closer to him, your hands on his hips. You lick your lips and move a hand between you, palming his erection. His eyes flutter closed.

“Two can play at this game, Jeon,” you hiss, sliding your hand between his trousers and his boxers, running your finger up his turgid length.

“Don’t call me Jeon.”

“Isn’t it your name?”

He tips his head back and bites his lip as you finally breach his boxers, wrapping your fingers around him, squeezing lightly.

“You only call me Jeon when you’re pissed,” he chokes out.

“Yeah, I’m fucking pissed.”

His head tips forward again and he looks at you as you sink to your knees, pulling his clothes down with him. You see him swallow hard.

“Not sure you thought this through, did you?” you ask, swiping your tongue across his head, tasting the tang of his pre-cum. “Here you are, all hard and ready for me...”

You take a hand through your lips, sweeping up your arousal and spreading it on the head of his dick.

“And me all ready for you...”

You wrap your lips around him and take him until he hits your throat, looking up at him through your lashes, then you come up and pause, just holding him in your mouth, your tongue running back and forth across the underside. Jungkook grunts and his eyelids flutter closed. You can see his fists clenching on either of him.

“Y/n...” he groans, quiet and strangled.

“Mm?” you hum, not taking him from your mouth, and you notice the muscle in his jaw jump as he clenches. “You started this,” you remind him, as you trail sloppy, wet kisses down the length of his hot, smooth cock. “I was going to be nice to you, but you had to go and spoil it.” You run your tongue flat across his balls as your hand continues to pump his shaft and he moans.

“Fuck, I miss you,” he whines, his voice high and tight as you run your tongue back to his head, enveloping him in your mouth once again. “God, fuck.”

You hollow your cheeks and suck, your hand and mouth moving as one. Jungkook’s fist moves to your hair, gripping tight, not directing you, just to have something to hold on to. As you push lower, tipping your head to take him into your throat, he jerks.

“No, no, no, stop! Stop.”

He pushes you back by the shoulders and stands, his breathing ragged, looking up at the ceiling and blinking hard. You let him stand there, recovering; you stay kneeling at his feet.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he says, each more aggressive than the last. He pulls his boxers and his trousers back on and looks at you, eyes wild. “No.”

“Kookie... Please.”

You pout up at him, put your hands on his thighs, and shuffle just an inch closer.

“No. Fuck, no, I can’t. I can’t.” He looks at you, alternately desperate and resolved and then shakes his head. “Baby, god, I want to. You know I want to. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

His hand is in your hair again, gently pulling you upwards, pulling you closer. He kisses your cheek and your lips, each little peck lasting a little longer than the last, until he just barely parts his mouth and you grab his bottom lip in your teeth. He moans and pulls away.

“No, no, no, no,” he whispers. “I can’t.” He swallows hard and looks skyward again, praying for strength. Then he repeats his no before stalking off into the spare room, cursing under his breath.

You sigh, more frustrated than ever, and, having spotted your stolen sex toy on the bathroom counter, you go back to finish what you started.

TWO WEEKS TO GO

Jungkook is sleeping in the spare room again. He says it’s because you’re not to be trusted, but what he means is that he isn’t to be trusted. He could barely trust himself around you before, but two weeks into the ban, he can’t risk taking any chances. Especially not with the way you’ve been behaving.

Apparently, so you tell him, there’s very little evidence to suggest that sex before a sporting event has as negative effect on performance.

“I even read,” you say, not for the first time, “that not having sex for a while lowers your testosterone so it’s not just that having sex isn’t bad, it might even be good! Don’t you want that?”

He’s trying to block you out. You’ve already told him this and he’s already told you that he’s doing as he’s told. He focuses on the TV, trying to get invested in the storyline, trying to care about the characters while you pester him relentlessly. He has to grit his teeth together and breathe carefully.

“Don’t ignore me, my little hobnob.”

You always pull out that biscuit when you think he needs to lighten up. He tries not to grin, not very successfully, because it’s such a ridiculous name – who calls a biscuit that, really? Then you slip your hands around his waist and rest your chin on his shoulder.

“I miss you,” you say, kissing his shoulder and rubbing his back.

He sighs, dropping his head, carefully trying to revel in your touch without giving in too far.

“I miss you too, love. Just two more weeks.”

You sigh, aggravated, and sit back.

“Yeah, two more weeks; we’re only halfway through. We have to do all of this all over again. Is that really what you want?”

“No, of course it’s not!”

Of course, he doesn’t want it. What he wants is to pin you down and eat you out ’til you’re screaming and then he wants to fuck you like his life depends on it, spend himself on you so hard he literally can’t move. What he wants is the opposite of this. Why can’t you understand that?

He turns to you, shifting his body around and reaches for your hands.

“Of course, it’s not what I want. I want you all the time. Why do you think I’m sleeping in the spare room again? I can barely stand sitting with you like this; every part of me is screaming at me to just take yo-“

“Then do it! Do it! I’m telling you, the science is on our side!”

He has to take a deep breath; he knows you may well be right. And he doesn’t like the thought of doing all this for no reason, for, if the article you read is right, the possibility that he’s actually less strong, less powerful in the ring, but he’s on a path and he has to stick to it.

“I’m doing what Coach says,” he tells you, sounding more resolved than he is. “I hired him for a reason and he’s already said he can notice a difference. This fight is so important and I have to follow him to the letter. I am sorry. I am…”

He is what?

He puffs out his cheeks and sighs. He doesn’t know what to say. There aren’t words for this or, if there are, he doesn’t know them. He leans forward and grabs the back of your head, pulling you in for a kiss. He knows he shouldn’t, knows how dangerous this is, but he misses you so much and he’s so upset and you’re so upset and he has to do something.

You scoot forward and sit yourself in his lap. His heart hammers in his chest, anxiety or desire or a heady mix of both, he’s not sure but his mind is slipping away from him and he’s not sure he cares anymore. He wraps his arms around you as his tongue finds yours. You’ve hardly had this much of each other over the last week and he’s ravenous. You moan into his mouth as he sucks on your tongue and he feels a stirring in his crotch. He can feel you, just above him, and he wants to push you down, roll your hips over his, but he daren’t; he doesn’t think he’ll be able to stop himself if you do.

He's breathless with the need of you and it catches in his throat as you grind into him. He moans and bites hard at your bottom lip; you keep going, kissing him hard so that he can’t speak.

Jungkook gathers up his strength and pulls back, holding you tight in place so you can’t chase after him. He’s breathing heavily and his hand trembles as he reaches up to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“Y/n…” He doesn’t know if it’s a plea or a warning; he doesn’t have any more words to follow. There isn’t anything he can say or do that will make this situation anything other than torture. Nothing will make you feel better than being fucked by him, fucked hard, nothing more and nothing less. He knows because he feels the same. He’s almost dizzy with desire; he’s giddy but clinging with desperation to the last remnants of his self-control. There’s a tiny voice at the back of his head proud of him for having come this far, but he can’t listen to it because we all know what comes before a fall and he can’t afford a fall like this.

It's the title. It’ll be his first title. This win will put him on the map. This win will establish him as a real, professional boxer, one to beat; this will be, he hopes, the first of many belts, many titles. His coach has real faith in him, he believes he can make it to world champion if he works hard enough. And Jungkook wants it. He wants to work; he wants to win. And now, he has to win. Losing is not an option. And once he has won, once this is over – in two, long, painful weeks – it’ll have all been worth it and he’ll be able to have you six ways from Sunday, every day of the week.

“Please don’t stop,” you whimper and the open, desperate pleading of your glistening eyes goes straight to his dick. “Please, please.”

He’s had to resist your pleading before; he’s even enjoyed resisting your cries and pleas, but that’s when he’s been in control; that’s when he’s been ramping up to wrecking you once, twice, three times, as many times as you can take. This is ramping up to nothing and your pleading only makes him feel broken.

You bring your face to his again and he can’t back away. You kiss him with urgency, running your hands over his body beneath his T-shirt, teasing his nipples until he’s fully hard, straining against his boxers, pressing against your crotch. You strip off your own top and Jungkook’s resolve crumbles. He dips his head, lifting you slightly from his lap to kiss your breasts, to flick his tongue over your nipples and swirl them in his mouth, one at a time, until they’re tight and hard. He bites hungrily and you mewl above him, whining his name. It’s like heaven to him and he can’t believe he hasn’t had this for two weeks; the two weeks stretching out in front of you are paling, forgotten in some faraway corner of his mind.

He's kidding himself that he can last a little longer with you lifted up like this, your hips no longer grinding your core into him. He keeps his mouth occupied at your chest and squeezes your glutes in his hands, then slipping them into the wide legs of your shorts. When he pulls your underwear to the side with one hand, and slips the fingers of his other hand into your warm, waiting slip, he sighs with satisfaction. You’re tight and soft and so, so wet.

You take his face in your hands and pull him back to your mouth. The kiss is all tongue and heavy breathing, messy and far from pretty but you’re each so desperate for the other that nothing else matters. You kiss his cheek and his jaw and bite down on his earlobe, whining breathily as he presses insistently against your front wall, each curl of his fingers bringing you closer to the edge. He slips his other hand behind your underwear and spreads your slick over your clit, rubbing insistently, knowing you’re getting close. He can tell by the sounds you’re making, sounds he’d work out of you every day of his life if he could.

“God, Kookie, baby, yes.”

You plant your lips on his neck, muffling your whines and whimpers as the heat builds inside you. Jungkook groans, shivering as you suck on his neck, as your cunt clenches his fingers tight, as your legs shake on either side of him. He doesn’t stop, can’t stop even when you’re tugging his hair, even when you’re squirming, even when you’re screaming his name. He’s far away now, lost in the bliss of your velvet heat. He’s insistent and you’re so sensitive that he pulls another orgasm from you with a cry and a shudder that takes your whole body. He’s so focused on you as a way of distracting himself from his own intense, aching desire. He’s painfully hard; he can feel the spreading circle of pre-cum on his boxers; he’s not entirely sure he won’t come even if you don’t touch him.

Then you flop against him, spent, and your hand grazes his crotch and he jerks violently.

“Fuck!” he gasps and tears prick in his eyes. He can’t look at you; he stares far away, out of the window, trying to stop his dick throbbing, trying to slow his heartrate, trying without success to calm himself.

“Kookie,” you whimper, your voice shaky. “Let me-“

“No,” he whispers, no strength in his voice, no strength anywhere in his body except his stiff, swollen cock. He closes his eyes and he can feel a tear trickle down his cheek, followed by your lips as you kiss it away. He flinches at the contact and whimpers when you stroke his hair.

“I can help you,” you whisper but he doesn’t hear you.

He’s lost, his mind strangled with desperate desire. His brain is whirring, swimming, floating away from him; his fingers tingle and shake and his heart thumps erratically in his chest. He’s never been this excruciatingly turned on before and knowing that he can’t see it through is heart-breaking.

You move your hand towards the waistband of his trousers and he grabs your wrist. He’s gripping so tightly, he’s sure it’ll hurt, but he can’t be gentle now.

“Don’t-,” he starts but his words are swallowed by a sob.

You press your forehead against his and he can’t stop the whimper as you kiss him, so light, so soft. He holds your face in his hands, barely even really touching, trying not to tangle them in your hair and pull you closer. You stay like that, just looking at each other for a minute or more, his eyes never leaving yours. He knows he needs to calm down, knows he should be calming down now that you’re still but his breathing doesn’t settle and he can hear the thump of his heart and the roar of his blood in his ears.

“Baby,” he says eventually, his voice croaky and hoarse. He has to do something and it has to be something drastic. He needs a shock to the system, a full reset. “I need-… I need you to get something for me.” And he needs you to get it because he’s not sure he can walk, not sure he can move at all.

“Anything.”

“Ice. And water.”

“Huh?”

“Ice and water; I need a big, big glass- a jug of iced water please.” His voice wobbles at the end and he’s trying so hard to regulate his breathing, trying so hard not to feel the pulsing in his underwear.

“Ok…”

You shift on his lap but he can’t let you go. His fingers twine in your hair and you have to pry them out to allow you to get up.

With the relief of you off him, the air around him clears and he jumps up, taking off his T-shirt and pushing his trousers to the floor. Once again needing to do something with his hands while he waits for you, he holds them out to the side, not daring to let them anywhere near his erection, fists clenching and unclenching. He feels like he might really be on the edge of a heart attack or an aneurysm. He feels abnormal, like nothing he’s ever felt before. He could keel over.

He can hear you, the ice clinking in the glass and he taps his feet, impatient. When you hand it over, he takes it with both hands and up-ends it all over himself.

“Jungkook!” you cry, as water splashes all over the floor and the sofa and the coffee table, but it sounds distant, the shock of the water temporarily sending him far away. He’s gasping and shivering and blinking hard, then screwing his eyes tight.

“I need you to go,” he tell you, still unable to look at you.

“Go where?”

“Anywhere, baby, literally anywhere,” his voice is still wobbling, his teeth chattering. “If we’re still in the same room in five seconds, I think I’m going to die. Come or die, either way, I don’t know but please, please just go.”

“Ok, I’m going, I’m going.”

He can barely hear you; he scrubs his hands over his face, swearing over and over and over again, begging the universe to let him calm down, to make these next two weeks go as quickly as they possibly can.

ONE WEEK TO GO

Jungkook hasn’t taken any more risks since that night. And he has also told you, almost every day since, to behave yourself, to stop doing that; he’s asked if you’re trying to kill him and the truth is: yes. You’re sick of it now; it takes almost nothing to get you hot: just the thought of him, randomly popping into your head as you’re trying to send emails at work, and you’re getting wet. You can’t sleep anymore. He’s still in the spare room but you lie in your bed, thinking about him lying in the other bed, and you can’t help yourself. You make yourself come again and again but it’s never enough. You can’t believe that he’s not only managed to ruin all other men for you but also your own damn self. You know how to push all your buttons but it’s not the same when it’s you doing it, it's not the same without Jungkook between your thighs.

You know there’s only a week to go, but it’s too long and you’re too frustrated and you’re reaching your boiling point. So, you do what any other sane person would do: naked protest. You stop wearing clothes in the house entirely, getting dressed only to go out and stripping as soon as the front door shuts behind you. When you first walk into the kitchen as Jungkook is eating breakfast, he chokes on his cereal and you have to slap him on the back; you feel his eyes following you as you make yourself a cup of tea and some porridge.

Now he’s just ignoring you. He’s doing his best to stay out of any room you are in, but that’s fine. It’s a small apartment and you’ve hidden his noise-cancelling headphones, so you know he can hear you when you moan and whine, wanton and gratuitous, as you do your best to fix your frustration.

He still hasn’t broken. You’re impressed, honestly. You didn’t think that he would be able to hold out this long and, as aggravated as you are, as deeply, unutterably frustrated as you are, you can’t help but admire his self-control. Unable to be in the same room as you, he texts you and tells you that his trainer is impressed with his performance and is confident about the fight; he believes he can win. He had fucking better win is what you think, but you text back something a little more supportive.

Six days before the fight and Jungkook is in the shower. You’re at a loose end, so you decide to join him. You thank the lord that he didn’t lock the door; he’s got his back to you and doesn’t notice you there until your hands are on his waist. He cries out in surprise and goes to turn around but you hold him still, kissing his shoulder and his back and the nape of his neck. You run your hands up his abs, grab his fulsome pecs, and peeking around his shoulder, you’re delighted to see he’s already hard.

“Were you about to masturbate in this shower?” you ask him, only half-serious.

“No,” he groans. “This is how badly I want you, y/n. Why are you making this so hard?”

You giggle at his choice of words and he growls deep in his throat. He turns around and cages you in against the screen with his hands either side of you.

“In six days,” he tells you, his voice low, face serious, eyes pinning you to the spot. “In six days, I am going to fucking destroy you. I’m going to fuck you so hard you can’t walk straight for a week; I’m going to fill you up so completely, my cum never stops dripping out of you; I’m going to make you scream so loud, our neighbours want to call the police; I’m going to fuck you and fuck you and fuck you again, then I’m going to fuck you some more and I’m still not going to be done. I’m going to take this cock,” he says, grabbing it at the base and hissing hard through his teeth as he does, “and I’m going to wreck your pretty little throat and your pretty little pussy, is that what you want?”

You can only nod, mute with desire, as you can feel arousal drip down your legs and you shiver, despite the warm, steamy atmosphere. Jungkook nudges his nose against yours, eyes still black as pitch, and he whispers in your ear.

“In six days.”

Then he leans back and stands back under the stream of water.

“Now get the fuck out.”

You’re so overwhelmed, you just do as he says and he follows behind you, shutting the door – and locking it – as soon as you’ve crossed the threshold. You blink hard and, as you come to your senses, you feel too many things at once: hot, frustrated, desperate, livid, heartbroken, a little bit intimidated, a lot excited, and over and above everything else, impatient.

Jungkook stands in the shower, turning the water icy again. He’s shaking, trembling all over, and before he can get himself under control, he’s sobbing. Hands against the tiles, shivering with cold and shuddering through ragged breaths, he drops his head and cries. Cries because he’s so frustrated, because he misses you so much, because he’s so tired, because he hates disappointing you, because he’s anxious, because he’s not sleeping well at night without you, because a tiny, paranoid thought niggles at him that this is going to make you leave him, because he can’t live without you and if he didn’t know it before, he knows it now.

He cries under the cold water for so long that it stops feeling cold against his skin and when he finally steps out of the shower, his skin is livid red and icy to the touch.

He goes to stay at a friend’s house that night.

“Look, I love you so much and I miss you so much that I can’t be around you,” reads his text. “Just thinking about you makes me want to die a seriously Little Death. The fight will be over soon; just six more days and I promise, I’ll give you everything you want and more. I love you, I love you, I love you. Please, please, please wait for me.”

“I love you, too, my little Bourbon,” you reply. “But I might never forgive you for this.”

“I promise, I’ll make you forgive AND forget, just wait ’til Saturday.”

He stares at his phone, wishing the messages said something different. He knows you’re joking, thinks you’re joking, hopes you’re joking, at least a little bit.

He sends a string of different kiss emojis and you toss your phone down beside you. Considering your small arsenal of sex toys without hope, you pick one at random, knowing even before you’ve started that it’s not even going to touch the sides of your desire. Your need for Jungkook has become a yawning chasm that stretches further than the eye can see; and it is a need for Jungkook specifically. For one mad moment a few days ago, you had considered the possibility of going out and getting fucked by someone else, but the second you thought it, it repulsed you: you don’t need a dick, you need his dick; you need his mouth; you need his hands. You need him, no one and nothing else. Accept no imitations. Which is really rather a pain right now.

You try to focus on your body, on the pleasure building there, the pleasant thrum in your core as you work with the vibrator in your folds and against your clit. You try to think about nothing, removing Jungkook from the equation, just emptying your mind and focusing on the physical sensations of your body.

It doesn’t work and you get so frustrated that you throw the vibrator in the bin and then, that not being enough, scoop up the others and chuck them in there, too. What’s the point of them, you think to yourself bitterly.

These had better be the fastest six days of your life or you aren’t sure you’ll survive.

FIGHT NIGHT

It was finally here. Jungkook had been working towards this for months, years, for his whole life in a way. It was both the pinnacle of his career and the first step of what he hoped would be a very long journey to the top. The final fight in his bid to be The Ring’s Super Middleweight champion: his opponent, Saul ‘Canelo’ Alvarez. Jungkook has him on reach and height, and he’s also lighter, which he thinks will be to his advantage. Canelo might be a slugger, but that’s where Jungkook excels. People think that his lightness is a disadvantage, that he doesn’t have the strength to throw hard enough punches, that he’s weak, that he’s Amir Khan. But he’s better than that. He’s agile and yes, slighter than other super middleweights, but he’s also strong and he’s also powerful and there’s nothing like seeing the surprise in his opponent’s face when he got his first punch in and they realised that for themselves. Of course, now he’s getting better known, he’s losing that element of surprise but it’s hardly the only thing he’s got in his keep.

But he’s not thinking about that. Today, just like all the other days this week, he’s thinking about you. His coach keeps telling him that he’s strong, that he seems focused, that he seems strong, but Jungkook isn’t entirely convinced. All he can think about is you; his mind is already beyond the fight and he’s anxious that this is going to be his undoing, that he’s going to have survived these past four weeks only to be so keyed up and desperate in the ring that he loses.

He wishes he could see you, just for five minutes, but you’ve been banned from his presence on fight days. You’re also banned from the gym on training days. Jungkook agrees with Coach that that’s probably for the best but it doesn’t mean he likes it. You are a distraction, there’s no denying it, but today, he really feels like he needs it. He needs you. Even an ounce, even a drop of you will do.

He pulls out his phone and dials your number.

“Kookie! Are you ok?” You sound concerned.

“Yeah, I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?”

“We never speak on fight days; I thought something might be wrong.”

Jungkook sighs and leans his head back against the wall.

“Something is wrong: I miss you.”

“Jungkook! Don’t scare me like that!”

He laughs and knows he was right to call you; just hearing your voice is like a balm to his fraying nerves. He already feels more relaxed.

“I’m sorry, love,” he replies. “I just wanted to hear your voice; we haven’t spoken this week.”

“I know and whose fault is that?”

“I know, I know, it’s mine, but I can’t wait to see you. Even if I lose this fight, as long as I’ve got you, I’m good, I’m a winner.”

“Hey now, you’re not going to lose, my little oat and raisin cook-”

“You don’t like that flavour cookie, do you?”

“Well, I don’t, no, but I thought I’d go with the least sexy flavour, in respect of how easy it is to get a ‘rise’ out of you at the moment.”

He snorts, appreciative of the weird, little effort.

“I think you’re right: raisins are not sexy but cookies are sexy biscuits, aren’t they? By default? Sexier than normal biscuits, right?”

“So you’re saying we need a raisin biscuit that isn’t a cookie.”

“Yeah.

“Garibaldi?”

Jungkook laughs.

“I don’t even know what that is, love, but sure, it doesn’t sound sexy.”

“Ok, then, I know you’re not going to lose, my little garibaldi.”

He laughs again and tells you that his coach has said the same thing (“… not in the same words”). He wishes he could stay on the phone with you longer; having barely spoken to you this week, he misses your voice, your presence, your conversation, just as much if not more than he misses your body. He sees his coach crossing the room, approaching him and he rings off reluctantly, but relieved he got even a minute with you before tonight.

He’s pacing in the dressing room; it’s almost time. He considered asking you not to come to this one; he’s not sure that he’ll be able to focus knowing you’re so much as in the room. The usual rule is that you’re allowed to attend but you have to sit somewhere in the back, somewhere he won’t be able to see you; he’s not sure if that’ll be enough tonight. Coach is talking to him, trying to hype him up, but he can’t hear a word. He just knows he needs to end this fight as soon as he possibly can and that means not going out there all guns blazing like a reckless thug in a bar fight; it means taking a step back (and he physically does it, takes one step back), taking a deep breath, and remembering the strategy, remembering the training. He’s ready for this (“You’re ready for this, JK,” Coach cries); he’s going to destroy Canelo (“You’re going to smash it, mate; you’re going to destroy him!”); and then he’s going to destroy you and himself in that order.

Canelo seems thrown off by Jungkook at the start: his size, maybe, his strength, his Southpaw stance despite being right-handed, Jungkook can’t be sure, but he wins the first round decisively and it’s exactly how he needs it to go: he likes to be the underdog but he likes an early lead. Spite and competitiveness can get you surprisingly far in life. He was right that Canelo is heavy and Jungkook is able to run rings around him; he thinks he might genuinely be able to get this wrapped up early, if he can just manage to hit him hard enough.

That turns out to be an ambitious goal and, halfway through, he’s slightly down on points. He’s frustrated; he can’t quite work out why his punches aren’t landing. Are they really not connecting? It certainly doesn’t feel like it. Are the judges just not seeing them? He’s not sure what he can do about that. He spits out the water Coach squirted in his mouth and he’s nodding at his advice. As he stands to get ready for the seventh round, his eyes roam the crowd, not looking for anything, just looking. Then his stomach flips. He sees you.

You’re sitting in your seat, anxious and uncomfortable. It always makes you anxious to see him fight, even though you know he’s trained for this and he’s as safe as anyone else would be in the same situation, but you flinch every time Canelo lands a punch. Jungkook hasn’t lost a fight all year and you’re surprised to see him losing – even if not by many points. You hadn’t really considered the possibility of him losing, because he doesn’t. He’s Jungkook. He’s the Baby Assassin of Busan. He doesn’t lose.

But things go from bad to worse. The next rounds see Jungkook falter, making uncharacteristic mistakes and misjudgements that cost him points. As the bell rings at the end of the tenth round, you can see the frustration in Jungkook’s face from here. Your stomach twists; you know how much this fight means to him and how upset he’ll be if he loses. You try to rouse yourself; it’s not over ’til it’s over. There are two rounds to go and he’s not so far behind he can’t make it up. There’s still a chance.

When Jungkook stands for the eleventh round, you see him scanning the crowd in your direction. You panic, should you hide? Duck? Cover your face? Too late; his eyes find yours and the second stretches into eternity, just you and him, before he’s tapped by the ref and he turns away. You shouldn’t have come. You’re a distraction. You’re going to make it worse.

Jungkook is going to lose.

The bell rings and Jungkook feels sprightly, buoyed, suddenly less tired than he had done in the last round. He dances energetically around the ring, keeping Canelo moving, keeping him throwing punches and missing, throwing more punches and missing again and again. You’re on the edge of your seat; this is the Jungkook you know. All at once, he lands three punches on Canelo and leaps back out of his retaliatory reach. Then he settles in a bit closer and lets Canelo land a couple on him; this… isn’t the Jungkook you know. You can’t work out what he’s doing; you’ve not seen him do this before. You turn to the clock, watching the seconds of the round tick by. Thirty seconds left. You check the points. Jungkook still behind.

This is more like it, Jungkook thinks. He can end it. He knows he can. He just has to let Canelo let his guard down a little more, tire him out a little further. Jungkook is not letting this get to twelve rounds. It won’t happen. Not on his watch.

You’re so focused on the screen: the points, the time, that you miss what causes the crowd to suddenly surge and scream. Canelo is standing with the referee in front of him, looking a little dazed. The ref lets them continue and the round commences again. Before Canelo has even blinked, Jungkook has hit him with a left hook that you know he put all his weight into. Canelo falls to the mat and doesn’t get back up. The ref starts counting. The crowd count with him.

“8… 9… 10!”

The ref waves a wide cross in front of him; the commentator declares it a knockout; and the crowd is screaming. Jungkook’s arms are in the air, his coach lumbering into the ring to envelope him in a hug, along with everyone else, it seems, the ring suddenly full of people. You lose sight of Jungkook. You’re on your feet, straining to see over the heads of the people in front of you, who are doing the very same thing. Tiny red fists emerge from the mêlée and it’s him; you exhale a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. You’re desperate to get to him. It’s over. The fight’s finally over. And he won. By knockout after a hard fight. This is absolutely the best outcome, better even than you’d hoped for. You bet he’s on cloud nine and you can’t wait to join him there.

Jungkook is buzzing. He’s done it. It’s finally over. And that means there’s only one thing on his mind. He can’t focus, is barely there as they hand him his belt, as he lifts it above his head to show the screaming crowd. People are congratulating him, slapping his back, rubbing his hair; at some point, someone takes his hands and rips off his gloves – he’s not sure where they end up. The fight was televised and a man with a microphone approaches him. He tries hard to focus on the questions, answering as quickly as he can and then the presenter asks just what he’s going to do now he’s won his first Super Middleweight title.

“Well,” he answers, “I haven’t come in four weeks so I’m going to go find my girl and fuck her in the dressing room ’til neither of us can walk straight!”

He points right at you, flicks a peace sign to the crowd and jogs back the way he entered 45 long minutes ago.

He keeps jogging all the way to the dressing room, stopping for precisely nobody. Coach tries to grab his attention, tries to grab his shoulder, but he shrugs him off. Wild horses can’t keep him from you now.

He swings open the dressing room, for a moment disappointed that you’re not there before him, but, of course you wouldn’t be. He’ll have to wait; it’s been four weeks, he can cope with another four minutes. Probably. He paces back and forth, back and forth; he chugs half a bottle of water; he almost wipes the sweat off his body, dries his hair, but then he remembers how much you like him dirty like this. Just the thought of you has got him hard already. He palms himself through his shorts and immediately has to stop himself; to come before you’ve even got in the door is unthinkable, unforgivable.

The door opens and there you are.

“Fucking finally.”

Jungkook slams his hands either side of your head, leaning down over you, sweat still dripping from his hair. He lowers one hand slowly to lock the door, his dark eyes never leaving yours, and then returns it next to your head.

“Did you have to wear fucking jeans?” he asks, laughing lightly. Of course, she’d wear jeans, he thinks, fucking tease. “Couldn’t find a dress? A skirt?”

“Sorry,” you answer, and you’re already breathless.

Jungkook kisses you, pressing his whole body against you and you sigh; god how you’ve missed this. He turns you around with one knock of his hand on your hip and he unbuttons your jeans impatiently. He shoves them roughly down your legs and you step out of them and your shoes at the same time.

“Oh baby, I don’t care. All I care about is finally getting to fuck you like you deserve. Please tell me you’re wet already. I don’t think I can wait a second longer.”

He’s usually more considerate; he would usually take his time. But this is not a usual situation. You laugh.

“Kookie, I’ve been wet for weeks, just hurry the fuck up, would you?”

He doesn’t need telling twice. He strips off his shorts and boxers and as he presses the head of his cock against your entrance, and it twitches, he gasps.

“Shit.”

He takes a few breaths, tries to steady himself. He kisses your neck, buying himself some time. He’s on a hair trigger and he’s not entirely convinced he won’t blow his load in one thrust.

“Just so you know,” he tells you, figuring there’s nothing else for it. “I’m going to last about ten seconds right now, but I promise, I’ll be ready to go again. I swear this won’t be it.”

“Just fuck me, please, Kookie. I’ll take ten seconds over none.”

Your whole body shudders as he presses into you for the first time in four weeks. You both moan low and Jungkook pauses at the bottom. You can feel him breathing heavily against your skin and he takes your trapezius in his teeth, taking a generous bite and not letting go as he drags himself backwards before thrusting in again. Your walls are spasming already; you’re so tight and he’s stretching you just right, filling you up like you’ve not been filled for 29 long days.

Ten seconds, as it happens, was an over-estimation. The way you grip him, the way he can feel your walls fluttering against him; you’re so hot and wet and tight and it’s been so long and he’s so sensitive. He lasts for all of a handful of thrusts before he’s groaning and shooting hot, white ropes of cum into you.

“Fuck, shit, sorry, baby, fuck!”

You can’t help but laugh as you turn around, keeping your legs tight together. He grins sheepishly at you and runs a hand through his sweaty hair.

“I’m sorry, love, I did tell you.” He rests his forehead against yours. “I’ve missed you so much.”

His hands meet across your lower back and he pulls you close for a kiss.

“I’ve missed you, too, Kookie,” you mumble against his lips, half your words eaten up by Jungkook’s mouth. You feel his tongue against your lower lip and you open up for him, sliding your tongue over his as he licks into your mouth. God, even this you’ve missed. You’ve barely even seen him in the last week, let alone got close to him, let alone touched him, let alone kissed him, even chastely. It’s overwhelming now to have him so close to you, all over you. You never want him any further away.

He moves his hands lower and lifts you up under your bum, carrying you to the sofa, where he strips you of your top and bralet – the black, lacy one you know he likes. You almost pout that he takes no notice of it but he catches you eye and grins.

“I notice, I know, I love you, thank you, but god, I don’t want a stitch on you right now. Nothing is better than you like this.” He stretches his hands out over your naked body and climbs over you. He ducks again, swallowing your next moan as he pinches at your nipple.

His mouth is everywhere, burning wherever it touches. You’re sweating and breathless and you think you won’t last much longer than ten seconds either when he finally touches you. Your cunt is quivering in anticipation, your clit throbbing a hard pulse, its echoes shuddering through you. Your back arches as Jungkook moves lower, his mouth on one nipple and then the next and then lower and lower still. He crawls off the sofa onto his knees and pulls you around, legs dangling from the edge. He spreads your thighs wide and takes a moment, looking down at your soaking wet pussy through half-lidded eyes. He licks his lips and clicks his neck from one side to the next before fixing you with a mischievous grin.

“If you even think about teasing me,” you gasp out. “I will fucking murder you.”

He laughs and kisses your inner thigh.

“You over-estimate my self-control, my love. I’m at my fucking limit.”

He is. He isn’t even close to finished with you. His cock is already stirring again as he dives straight in, licking a broad stripe from core to clit and moaning lasciviously as he does. You’re already so sensitive, whining and whimpering as he sucks and slurps at you, his face buried so far into the crux of your thighs, you don’t know if he can breathe. Almost immediately, you’re cresting, arching off the sofa, thighs clamping together on Jungkook’s head as a streak of hot pleasure surges through you and fresh arousal gushes over his face.

He brings his hands to your thighs and forces them apart without breaking contact with your cunt. He doesn’t stop, no matter how you squirm; you can’t catch your breath to tell him you’re over-stimulated, to beg him to stop, to give you a second’s break. A scream breaks in your throat as he pushes three fingers inside you and you’re seeing stars. He finally takes his mouth from you and breathes heavily against you, his breath sending sprinkles of goosebumps across your skin. He curls his fingers inside you and then tips your hips just slightly, suddenly hitting the perfect spot. You’re incoherent, animal, as you moan and whimper, stuttering to another orgasm under his ministrations.

You don’t have to find a way to ask him to remove his fingers as the waves of your orgasm roll through you but just as you are about to breathe a sigh of relief, his mouth is back on you. He’s gentle this time, more patient. He kisses your lips, licks through your folds slowly, moaning, his brows knitting together because it’s been so long since he’s tasted you and there’s nothing he’d ever rather eat. He buries his tongue in your hole, bumping your clit with his nose; if it were anyone else, it might be accidental, but you know Jungkook knows your body perfectly and knows exactly what he's doing. You’re raw, over-wrought, dehydrated. Your vision swims and your voice gets stuck in your throat, able only to gasp and stutter, not even able to scream his name out loud as you scream it in your head. Your hands tremble, one pushing back the hair on your head, the other finding its way to Jungkook’s hair, tangling there as if you could even dream of giving him direction right now.

His eyes flick to yours and they’re black, pupils dilated, lids fluttering quickly to a close again as he moans, vibrating lips sealing around your screamingly sensitive clit. Your hand pulls sharply at his hair, but he doesn’t even seem to notice. You feel like every atom in your body has been electrified, every touch, every movement – yours or his – sending sparks straight to your core, where they’re churned up into a tight ball. Like the death of a star, your body collapses in on itself, contracting and tightening as you are reduced to little more than a silent scream, and then explodes, a supernova of ecstasy exploding within you, scattering bits of you all over the room.

When you open your eyes, you can see stars wherever you look, which isn’t far because you can’t find it within you to move a single muscle.

“You ok, my love?”

Jungkook’s face swims into view, a dopey grin on his sticky, wet face. He looks drunk or high or both. He pushes the hair off your face, your flushed cheeks, fucked-out, dilated pupils staring straight at him; he thinks you look high or drunk or both. He kisses you so you can taste yourself on his lips and you’re suddenly hungry again.

“Kookie.” Your voice is hoarse and low, still strangled with need.

Jungkook hums against your mouth as he lifts you up, pressing your back into the back of the sofa.

“Kookie.”

You manage to grab his face between your palms and hold him still, giving you a chance to focus on him, see him properly.

“Tell me what you need,” he says, as eager to please and energetic as a new puppy and you have no idea how. He should be tired; he knows he’s going to crash hard, but right now, there’s adrenaline surging through him like there’s no tomorrow. He’s wired; he’s excited; he feels almost manic with love and lust and he’s so high, he can’t see the ground. He feels like he could go all night and he’s certainly going to try.

“I need you inside me, right now, right this second. Please, please, please.”

You aren’t exactly unaccustomed to begging but nothing will stop the stream of ‘please’s tumbling from your mouth. Nothing, that is, except the head of Jungkook’s perfect cock in your folds, waiting, teasing at your entrance.

He’s lifted you again, setting you on the arm of the sofa, him kneeling on the cushions; with nothing to rest against, you cling to him tight as your breath catches in your throat. He watches closely as he pushes into the tight, wet slip of your cunt, watching himself disappear into you. You want to make a joke about lasting another ten seconds but you don’t have the energy, the capacity, the mental agility to make it; you just about manage to cry his name as starts to thrust, smooth and slow at first, but soon, quicker, harder, accompanied by quiet growls and grunts as he grips you tight. You really do feel drunk, giddy, hysterical as he’s finally, finally back where he belongs. You feel tears prick in your eyes at the relief of it, the pressure, the pleasure.

“God, I’ve missed you,” he whispers. “Shit, I can’t wait to fill you up, stuff you fucking full. Can you take it, baby?”

He’s relieved he hasn’t come again already, though he knows he could. He’s holding back because he’s still so close to the edge. If he isn’t careful, he’s going to lose it again.

“I can take it,” you reply, voice high and tight. “Give it to me, Kookie- fuck.”

He grabs the hair at the back of your head and pulls it back, exposing your neck so he can kiss you, lick you, bite you there, moaning against your skin as you whimper and stutter.

“Kookie, shit, please. I need you to fuck me forever. God, don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

“Never,” he grunts. “Shit, won’t stop. I’m yours, baby.”

“Only mine.”

“Only yours.”

You press your lips to his clavicle, then lick a bead of sweat travelling down his throat. Jungkook moves faster still, his grip on you painfully tight as he threatens your cervix with every thrust. You’re so sensitive, you’re at an almost constant spasm around him; your limbs still heavy and weak, tingling like they’re both going numb and coming back to life. You simultaneously want this to last forever and feel like you’ll die if a single extra ounce of pleasure is put on you. Then Jungkook sucks at that one spot on your neck that makes you melt and you swear, voice wavering and breaking.

“Give me one more, baby,” he demands, so low you almost don’t hear it.

“I don’t have it,” you whimper.

“Yes, you do, c’mon, y/n.”

And he slips a hand between you, never letting his pace falter.

“Jesus, fuck!”

He touches you gently, but it’s enough to have reality slipping from view, your vision burning white, your blood roaring, screaming in your ears as you cum again. You hold him tight, your nails digging into his back, your teeth hard on the delicate flesh of his neck. It rolls through you, knocking your breath from your lungs, and once it’s passed, you’re trembling, shaking.

Jungkook is holding his breath, straining to last to fuck you through your orgasm; you’re so tight around him it’s like his brain loses signal, just a siren wailing an emergency. No thoughts, no words, when you collapse against him, he exhales, and releases into you with a long, high-pitched sigh.

He lies back onto the sofa, taking you with him.

“That was more than ten seconds, right?” he asks, breathless.

You laugh and pat his shoulder.

“Well done, little jammy dodger; I’m proud of you.”

“For lasting more than ten seconds or winning the title?”

“What title?”

The question leaves your lips before your brain has engaged and Jungkook laughs, first a little and then a lot, so much that you can’t help but laugh with him, can’t help but laugh until you’re crying, your abs hurting, you’re silent in your mirth, breathless and voiceless and hysterical.

When you finally stop, you bring your face level to his. He still has tears of laughter in his eyes and streaking his cheeks. You wipe them away with your thumb and he turns his head to kiss your palm.

“Both, I guess?” you answer.

He grins and shakes his head.

“I almost lost. I thought I was going to fucking lose,” he tells you. “That second half, I-…”

“What happened?”

“I saw you. I saw you in the crowd and I almost fucking came right then and there.” He laughs, though it was anything but funny at the time. “I couldn’t concentrate on the fight; all I could think about was trying not to get a fucking boner. Shit what a stupid fucking idea it was not having sex for four we-”

“I fucking told you!”

“I know, I know. I will never not listen to you ever again for the rest of my life, I swear. God.”

“No more sex bans?”

“No more sex bans. I am never, ever not having sex with you again.”

“Good.”

You lift yourself onto your elbows on his chest and kiss him first on the lips, then the jaw and neck and anywhere within reach.

“Speaking of never not having sex… Are you ready to go again?”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fic #bts #mmm repost

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honeyedmiller · 1 year

Text

Ride, Cowgirl | Joel Miller

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: smut, dom!reader, (semi) sub!Joel, shy! reader, reader is unsure of themselves for .2 seconds, Joel is sweet and encouraging, some fluff and aftercare, takes place in Jackson, implied unprotected piv, choking, riding, spitting, edging, pussy job, face sitting, no use of y/n. I’m sorry this is literally just pure filth lmaooo hope u enjoy :-) 18+. minors, do not interact.

word count: 2.4k

synopsis: you tell joel one of your fantasies that’d been on the back burner, but he encourages you to bring it to life.

not revised (per usual) so sorry if there’s any mistakes!

It was a cozy fall morning in Jackson. You and Joel lazed in bed on your day off, enjoying each other’s company.

So far, it’d been nothing but stolen kisses and soft whispers of endearment, so, naturally, you had no fucking clue how the conversation got to where it was now.

“No, now y’have to tell me, sweetheart. Swear I won’t laugh.” Joel coaxed, brushing your hair out of your face. You groaned and shrunk into the pillows of the bed, trying to hide your face from your beloved boyfriend.

“No, Joel. It’s stupid anyway.” You argue, shaking your head.

“Oh, c’mon. It can’t be that bad, can it darlin’?”

“Yes. It’s unrealistic.”

“Just tell me.” He’s smiling down at you softly, patiently, waiting for you to tell him what you’ve always fantasized about doing in bed.

“Fine. I’ve always wondered,” You swallow thickly, taking a deep breath. “What it would like to be a dom. Just for a little.”

Joel raised an eyebrow at you, looking at you in shock. Out of all the things he was thinking you’d tell him, it definitely wasn’t that. You were generally a shy person, and quite frankly didn’t seem to have one dom bone in your body. But, you’ve surprised Joel time and time again, so he wouldn’t put it completely past you that you’d had a hankering to try something like this.

“Fuck, it’s stupid, I know.” You start, reprimanding yourself for saying anything in the first place.

“No, it’s not stupid darlin’. Jus’ didn’t expect something like this from you.” Joel cooed, kissing your forehead.

“I know I can be, I guess, more reserved… but I save my true self for you and Ellie.” You reasoned, giving him a shy, lopsided smile.

“I know you do, baby. Is this something you really want to try?” He’s serious now, eyes scanning your face.

Of course you were apprehensive, but if big, bad, mean Joel was going to let you live out this fantasy of yours, you couldn’t dare pass it up.

“Yes,” You squeak. “But I obviously wouldn’t go to the full extent. Just… wanting to be in charge only once.” You shrug. You didn’t mind Joel being the dom all the time. Quite frankly, it was hot, and despite his age (which you couldn’t give two fucks about, because the world fucking ended twenty years ago for fuck’s sake), he kept things real interesting in the bedroom.

If you were to ever say your sex life with Joel Miller was boring, you’d be lying straight through your fucking teeth.

That man was insatiable for his age, and his libido was incredible. He never ceases to amaze you, even ‘til this day.

“Okay,” Joel said softly. “Let’s do it.”

Your eyebrows shot up to the top of your forehead. Was he seriously going to go through with this? I’ve-killed-half-of-Salt-Lake-City Joel, ready to be a submissive to little ‘ol you?

“Are you serious?” The shock in your tone was transparent, sitting up in bed a little to look at him in all seriousness.

“Absolutely. If that’s one of your fantasies, I’ll help you live it. But,” He paused, giving you a stern look. It was half playful, half dead serious. “You tell no one that we’re doing this, okay? I have a reputation to uphold here.”

You snorted at his last comment, rolling your eyes. “Please, Miller, I don’t talk to anyone about our sex life anyways. I like to keep the dirty things we do to ourselves, thank you very much.” The smug smile that curled onto your lips made Joel’s twitch.

“Alright, so, how do you want to do this?” He asks, folding his arms behind his head.

“Wait, you mean we’re doing it now?”

“Why not? Ellie’s at Dina’s for the weekend, so we have allll day baby.” Joel smirked up at you, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“Fuck, um, okay. I don’t know where to start.” Nerves took over you as you were painfully regretting this decision to go through with it.

“Start with telling me some simple ground rules. That usually gets you in the mood.” Joel unravels one arm from behind his head, reaching out to rub your arm gently.

“Right, okay,” You trembled nervously, but you took a deep breath to get your mind into a dominatrix headspace. “First things first,” You stare down at him, lust clouding your vision. “Only speak when spoken to. Don’t touch me unless I give you permission, and you’ll only address me as ma’am. Got it?” You look down at him, trying to hide your nervousness as best as possible.

Joel’s cock stirred at your words, acquiescing with your rules.

“Say it.” Your voice is stern as you get on top of him, straddling his thighs. It took everything in him not to reach up and grab you. You wore nothing but an oversized shirt of his, and the sight of you in it with a daring glint in your eyes drove him absolutely wild.

“Yes ma’am.” He agreed.

“Good. Now take off your boxers.” You instructed, lifting your weight off of him so he could slide them off of his body.

His cock was already leaking pre cum, the tip swollen and begging for attention. The sight nearly made your mouth water, but you had to keep your façade up. He looked up at you, waiting for your next set of instructions.

You moved up on him again so your bare, aching heat was hovering over his erection. You lowered yourself onto him, teasing his length with your slick folds. Your arousal made it easy for you to grind yourself onto him.

He clamped his eyes shut, hissing at the feeling of you teasing him so.

“Mm, feel so fucking good honey. This cock is all mine, you got that?” You peered down at him, and he nodded frantically.

“What did I say about speaking when spoken to?” You snap, even surprising yourself with how promiscuous your tone was coming off as.

“Y-yes ma’am. I’m sorry.”

“Good boy.” You smirk, and he groaned at that.

“Quiet.” You warn, moving your hips again to your leisure. Joel’s cock throbbed underneath your aching cunt, and not being able to touch you or speak was driving him fucking wild.

You continued your movements, and you could tell Joel was close when he started to pant really hard. He wasn’t going to cum that easy. Just as he was about to tip over the edge, you lifted your hips, causing him to throatily whine.

“Fuck, darlin–”

“What did I just say about you being quiet?” You snap, leaning forward to wrap one of your hands around his neck. You were careful not to crush his windpipe, but gave the sides of his thick throat some pressure with your small hands.

Never in his life did Joel think being choked would be hot. It really wasn’t something he was fond of, but right now, with you, it was the hottest thing ever. Seeing you go from shy and quiet to choking him and being in complete and utter control made him nearly lose his mind.

“Open your mouth.” You commanded, and he obeyed immediately. You spit into his mouth, moving your hips back down to where your throbbing cunt met his pleading cock. His eyebrows furrowed as he swallowed what you gave him, biting his lip in agony as you started to grind on him again. And, once more, you denied him access to cum.

You knew once Joel went back to being his dominant self, he’d punish you back ten fold, so you had to tread lightly. Desperate whimpers and moans elicited from his throat, and you let go of his neck to look down at him.

“You’re just not getting it, are you?” You scoff, and you move off of him again. This time, you shift your body so your dripping heat is hovering right above his mouth. “Maybe this’ll help shut you up.”

You waste no time in making yourself comfortable on his face, and he immediately reacts. His tongue is ravishing you like a starved man, sucking on your clit with care before licking up and down your slick folds. You start to rock your hips on his face, your clit catching on his nose just right.

Joel had the right mind to tease you this way and deny you of an orgasm too, but he knew you wouldn’t be so forgiving to him since he was the one who encouraged you to carry out this fantasy.

“Touch yourself, honey. But do not cum.” You told him, and he moaned into you. He began to tug at his silky flesh, and he thumbed at the slit on his swollen and neglected head. His tongue was buried deep into you, and the suckling and slurping sounds he made were nothing short of obscene and extremely erotic.

You felt Joel tense again, nearing his release once more. He just prayed to whatever was out there that you’d let him cum this time.

“Wanna cum, honey?” You coo, tangling your fingers in his hair. He nods below you eagerly, continuing to devour you. You were so close to the edge yourself, so you moaned in praise. “Beg for it.”

You lifted your hips to let him speak, and you’d never heard his voice in such disarray, ever.

“P-please ma’am. Please let me cum. Ple-ase.” He was nearly whimpering, voice strained and teetering on the edge of a full whine.

You move your hips back down, and you’re once again on his mouth. He wastes no time in trying to get you over the edge, and when you’re just about there, you give him permission.

“You can cum, my love.” And just like that, both of you unraveled at the same time. Loud moans were to be heard from your bedroom at the agonizing release of both of you.

You shuffled back down Joel’s body so you were straddling his thighs once more. You looked at his slick-covered face, smirking at the sight.

“You did so good, honey.” You kiss him, tasting your arousal on his lips.

“Thank you, ma’am.” He responds, hands twitching to touch you.

“You can touch me, Joel,” You murmur, kissing him again. His hands immediately go to your waist to hold you steady against him before exploring your body slowly. You moaned softly when his hands reached your ass, giving it a firm squeeze. “But I’m not done with you yet, cowboy.”

He looks up at you with a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He was honestly so proud in a sense that you gained so much confidence being in a dominatrix headspace.

“Permission to speak, ma’am?” He asks politely, smiling smugly up at you. You raise your eyebrow at him and nod, listening intently.

“Ride, cowgirl.”

You laughed, your dom façade already breaking. You lined Joel’s surprisingly hard cock up with your entrance, rubbing the tip against your folds a few times before you sunk down on him completely.

You moan at the sensation, him stretching you to fullness something you’ll always find so fucking hot.

“Feel so good, baby.” You encourage, starting to rut your hips back and forth. It wasn’t long before you found a steady rhythm and tossed Joel’s oversized shirt that engulfed your body to the side so he had a clear view of your beautiful body.

Forgetting the no touching rule, he reached out to massage both of your breasts. You almost moaned at the contact, but quickly took both of his wrists into your hands, holding them above his head. You were careful not to move fast, though, because you knew his shoulders were nearly shot.

“No touching.” You smirk as you bounce on him now, groaning when his cock hit that spongey spot in your cunt that made you see stars.

“Mm, fuck, baby, who’s cock is this?” Your words were sickly sweet, dripping like honey as you gazed down at Joel with a ferocious look in your eye.

“Fuck, yours, ma’am. It’s all yours.” He moaned, loving the way your sweet, delicate pussy took him so well every single fucking time. It’s like you were just made for him, and the sensation was truly like no other.

“That’s right. Mine. Don’t you forget it.” You lean down and kiss his neck with fervor, kitten licking the spot you know drives him crazy just once. You felt his cock twitch inside of you, and you knew he was close again. You clamped down on him, riding him with such determination. You wanted to see his face when he unraveled for you; because of you.

“You’re so fucking handsome, you know that?” You start praising him, returning the sweet words he always tosses your way when you two have sex. “So strong. So sweet and loving. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, honey.” You kiss him lovingly, every dom thought and bone in your body dissipating.

You knew it was only a matter of time before you’d say enough was enough. You liked when Joel was in charge. He fucked you so well, and the aftercare was always so tender and loving. He was so gentle, patient and kind with you. You truly loved him with your whole being.

You felt Joel’s hips stutter, breaking you from your thoughts. “It’s okay, my honey. Let go.” You finally said, and it only took him a few more thrusts of hitting that sweet spot inside you that had you coming undone as well.

You kissed him as you both unraveled, swallowing each other’s moans as your movements came to a halt. You slowly get off of him, pulling him into you as you cradled his head against your chest. You kissed his forehead a few times as you ran your fingers through his graying hair.

“I hope I didn’t push it too far.” You whisper, tracing the outline of his jaw with the tip of your index finger. He looked up at you, completely fucked out and more than satisfied.

“You did amazing, baby. That was hot.” He praised, and suddenly, your shyness returned to you full-force. A crimson blush colored your cheeks, and you hid your face into the top of his curls.

“Yeah, well, I prefer it if you’re just the dom from now on.” Your voice is diffident. Joel laughs, leaning up to kiss you lovingly.

“I think that can be arranged, baby.”

I think I’m gonna start doing a tag list. Lmk if you wanna be tagged for future works of mine! But until then @cool-iguana as promised I’d tag you <;3 ily

#joel miller smut #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #joel miller imagines #joel miller imagine #joel miller x dom!reader #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal imagine #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x afab!reader #joel miller x female reader #tlou imagine

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http-mianhae · 2 years

Text

AMORTENTIA ; seungcheol

view the whole series here!

DESCRIPTION ᝰ Being head-over-heels for the Gryffindor captain is harder than it seems, especially when everyone knows about your little crush on Seungcheol and he takes it lightly. Until when you’re partnered up and forced to be in each other’s lives on a daily basis, that’s when things take a bit of a turn

WARNINGS ᝰ fluff, angst, one-sided love, snape (LMAOOO)

PAIRING ᝰ choi seungcheol x fem!reader

WORD COUNT ᝰ 17.1k

“When will you stop looking at him?” The question sunk sharply into your goosebump-raided skin, thin as the air you were breathing.

“I don’t know, Mingyu, I don’t know.” you sighed. Truth be told, the action of sighing was intended to rid some degree of tension but it was planting more stress on you.

The shadow of the Owlery roof spread just to your knees. The remainder of your legs were under the Sun, soaking in the glow that you were defective from days and days of staying indoors.

Mingyu rubbed your back, his head heavy on your shoulder. You knew he didn’t mean to ask the question in a crude way but when you were already so sick of it, you wondered how your best friend felt witnessing it all?

“I wish he could make you happy…” he said in a hushed voice.

The sound of the way he said it touched you in a way no one could because it was pure. You wished that the person that didn’t share your feelings would look at you, appreciate you and recognise what you see in him. A hopeless romantic you were, dedicating all your heart to the impossible.

The sound of owls aloft getting in the Owlery to their cages and squawking was overheard from outside. Where you were, you could see the Quidditch field and the red-coloured uniform striking in your eye’s reflection. They were outstanding, dazzling like their Quidditch records.

He never disappointed.

All these running years of Captain, there never passed a day where Choi Seungcheol would thwart the Gryffindor team.

“I’m back!” Chan shouted excitedly, coming out of the Owlery along with Seungkwan.

“What did you deliver?” you asked, turning around to him.

You were essentially brought here by your group of friends, after all. Not that you were complaining either, because you knew Seungcheol had Quidditch practise at this time.

“Just had to get back to Sirius about some stuff.” Dino sighed.

“Oh,” you nodded.

Ever since the whole fiasco last year with the detailed escape of the said gruesome convict departing from Azkaban, your entire fifth year was filled with ups and downs and too many jumpscares to count.

Chan, the deemed Chosen One and your traumatised group of teens solved the crisis and found out he in fact wasn’t a bad guy and was there to be of assistance. Since then, Sirius Black has been in hiding and Chan kept in contact with him however he could.

“And you are…staring at him again.” Seungkwan sighed, disappointed. He took the seat beside you where your eyes sailed off into the distance to Seungcheol was yelling for the ball to be passed.

He looked so charming. And he indeed was. He knew how to respect everyone, even through your seldom communication.

“Please,” Chan muttered, slipping down to sit next to Mingyu.

Tiredness was something you guys were never used to.

The weekend was approaching in literal hours and the four of you were sleepy from the monstrous amount of homework you were suffocating in.

The only getaways you would have were the ones where Seungcheol would take a dip in your daydreams painted like an angel as he would talk to you about how he loved you back and how much he needed you in his life.

You dreamt and dreamt of it but had it even come close to happening? No.

It even went as far as nearly the whole year level knowing, yet Seungcheol didn’t react a little when he discovered your crush on him.

He just left it as so.

You were starting to doubt if anything would even happen.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Monday had boringly flooded in with you going to your Potions Class.

Of course, this was an exceedingly undesirable class for nearly the entire school except for the Slytherins. Maybe if he was nicer, you would consider changing your least preferred subject to something over the lines of Herbology.

You regretted taking that class.

You entered the Potions classroom, locating Joshua the Hufflepuff in the rear corner, waiting for you. Joshua was a mutual friend of yours and you noticed yourself hovering around him during the classes you had together.

When Joshua was quiet upon your arrival, you marked the glow of change in the mood. Snape has to be serious today for you two not to be talking in class.

Notably because of the history Slytherins has with the other houses, you get the worst punishments from Snape.

“We start your Potions assignment today.” Snape shut the door of the classroom with a flick of his wand, causing you to jump a little. “We discussed it last week and you took back the assignment sheets as well, so we will get started straight away.”

Joshua sent a concerned look your way, you nodded it out. Then, he smiled a little, teasingly to confirm. He was a Hufflepuff, but he sure was a mocking one.

“This assignment requires for you to be in partners and I have already picked them out myself.” No one made sounds of disappointment because you all know what the consequences are of that.

One toe out of the line and it was the infamous Forbidden Forest detention coming your way.

“I assume these are the fairest partners there are due to schedules so be aware that I did pick your partners with notice of you,” Snape said, whipping parchment paper out, set to read out what you could assume was the list of partners.

“Sit with your partners once I have called your names out…Seungcheol and Y/N.”

It went eerily quiet.

And you sort of stared at Snape, challenging what he said was true. Like you went dumb for a second and there was this remarkable heat on your face you, as you gawked at his features in high dismay. Were you stuck in a dream?

You were overwhelmed thinking that after Seungcheol knowing your crush on him, you would be shameless of your actions around him. But it appeared that there were still some factors that didn’t apply to that. And this was one of the incidents that had offered those factors—working together with him.

You shook your head, yet trying to make sense of what Snape just said as the whole class turned to seize your priceless reaction to talk about later.

As much as it doesn’t seem so, the gossip gets around Hogwarts fast. You were not one, but multiple examples.

Gossip, gossip, gossip.

The students loved it, it moved them, especially when it wasn’t concerning them and someone who appeared to be so easy to deteriorate and make a fool out of. Hence why your best friend is a Hufflepuff, they respect you no matter who you are.

You abruptly nodded, stepping out of your ordeal daze, finally moving. You didn’t even look at Joshua, you couldn’t induce yourself to see his reaction of pain for you—it’d make yourself feel worse.

The urge to throw yourself out the window lingered, without the stupid truth that you couldn’t because the class was held in the dungeons of Hogwarts. There was unfortunately no possible way of flying at least three stories down.

Oh, you resented it already.

You couldn’t understand if it was because of the near walk-of-shame you had to do to the open seat next to Seungcheol or the fact that you were working with your long time crush, but something agitated inside and caught you into not wanting to stick around.

However, he glanced over at you and smiled, waving at you.

Why was he acting so nice for?

And why were you smiling back at him?

It was so bad. You could feel the stares dig through your head more than they needed to. The recognition you were getting was far more than you were used to in your life and for the prime reason—your crush on Seungcheol.

Snape continued on with his list and you desired it to last longer. Long enough for the lesson to end and stall more time between you and Seungcheol. It was like as soon as you set foot near him, all those insecurities in your brain hindered you from acting who you were.

“Hey, Y/N.” he greeted you, his plump lips looking smooth at a closer perspective. As you predicted. What was more was that he remembered your name.

“Hi, Seungcheol.” you greeted back.

Students were starting to make small talk with their partners, surrounding you. And everyone looked pretty good with their pairs, focussing on the task.

You brought your attention back to your textbook, flicking through it as you tried to disregard the gaze of Cheol on you.

“Um, I think Moonstone is pretty interesting. Should we do our assignment on the properties of Moonstone and test a potion using it? Or we could do Dandelion Leaf, Rose Petals, but that seems like first-year stuff to me and I really don’t want to be doing that.”

A smile gradually coiled onto his features. “Do you like Potions?”

“I beg your pardon?” you asked, unmistakably hearing him.

But still, was he being sarcastic? Was this the normal popular kid attitude you would encounter here? You never personally talked to Seungcheol properly, mayhap, that’s why you didn’t know.

But he stopped smiling. “No, I didn’t mean to sound rude. I was just saying you looked really excited and I—”

“Oh.” you intervened, glancing down to your lap in embarrassment. Once again, too defensive for your own good. You were flustered as you looked back up at him, wanting to fix things again. “I like Potions. Just not the teacher.”

You whispered the last part.

“What Gryffindor does? Honestly—oh, there goes the bell,” he said.

Others began packing their books with the dismissal from Snape to leave the frigid dungeons that shrivelled you up on the inside.

Goosebumps were pretty much all over your skin, even with the school robes on. He got up and started picking up his books and quill.

“Um, Moonstone sound great though. We should talk about it next lesson?”

You nodded briskly.

Seungcheol smiled again, your heart racing with what you could only imagine your crush swarming your brain. He was just beyond beautiful.

“Okay,” you said.

“Sweet.”

He walked to the door of the classroom and you followed him with your books to Joshua, who was waiting for you at the door.

“Hey.” he greeted you, a teasing smile on his face. You swore you were about to burst right there if it weren’t for Seungcheol walking slightly ahead of you two.

“Hey, Joshua. Come sit at the Gryffindor table,” you told him, changing the subject. “We’ll eat lunch together.”

“Ah, sounds nice.” he agreed, his eyes squinting in teasing mode. Of course, it was Joshua out of all people that would put you in this position. “Sounds as nice as what just happened.”

“I will murder you!” you said, bumping your shoulder into him. Seungcheol was barely a few steps away from you. What if he heard you?

Seungcheol turned around a little, looking at the two of you. Joshua and you stopped and bartered a glance, eyeing each other with the suspicion of Seungcheol.

Why was he actually paying attention to those who are less popular for once in his life? Because the last time you checked, his group of friends were considered the highest and lived in their own world.

Seungcheol beamed at you, causing your heart to bounce in your chest. He had heard your playful banter.

You smiled back slowly, before taking a quick left at the corridor to bring Joshua away from it all.

“Yo, what are you doing? Kinda sus,” he said.

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, shut up, white boy.”

Joshua put a hand on top of your head playfully, smiling at you.

You sighed, “I don’t think I can do this. I rather drown myself in the lake than be partners with him.”

Just like that, Joshua had fled out your expectations. He was literally the best when it came to advice.

“Think about it this way. This assignment is only for a month, Y/N. Finish it and leave because there isn’t a way out of it. You know Snape. If you go up to him, he’ll reject you and potentially embarrass you. Everyone knows about your crush on Seungcheol.”

That was it. There was no way out of it.

You placed your forehead on the wall, giving up.

You were forced into a partnership in your least favourite class with your most favourite person.

It was as if luck had tied your strings together, attaching you for this and giving you more torturous events to go through. The rumour-spreading was bad but now, it was just beginning to get worse.

“Hey, look at it this way. You’re going to be with your hot hunk for the next month.” he encouraged, nudging your shoulder with his elbow.

“Joshuaaaa!”

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

You hated how reliable Joshua was about this whole thing.

It was as if he had it all mapped out in his head to tell you like he knew you would come to him for advice or something.

Honestly, you were weakened by the time the next Potions class strung along, knowing this would be troublesome.

You remembered spending some of the night before with Mingyu, just spilling all your feelings out about it. Your younger friend didn’t let you face it all alone but with gratitude to your clinginess of his words, you found yourself feeling alone by the next class.

Claiming the seat next to Seungcheol, he greeted you softly.

“Good morning,” you replied, keeping it short. You turned to face Snape as he introduced the class and the tasks that were self-explanatory. You got to the task slowly, facing the front still.

“What are we going to do with this thing?” he asked, gaining your attention. Cheol had turned his body towards you on the high stool and you did the same, acknowledging your chances of leaving were about zero. You had to succumb at this point.

“I looked through it a little and I was thinking what if we just do a simple research essay and provide a sample of a love potion,” you suggested, finding it shocking that your voice was able to stay one tone. It was contradictory to the delusional thoughts of committing arson in the classroom flying inside you.

“A love potion?”

“Moonstone is known for being in love potions,” you informed him. Were you seriously discussing this with him? This was the last thing you wanted to discuss with Seunghceol. Love.

“Oh…I wouldn’t know. I don’t even pay attention.” he chuckled.

It was so natural how a giggle slipped through your lips and right there you wanted to go back in time and not laugh. Every insecurity you comforted yourself on was overlapping with disagreement, prominently drawing in the conversation. Almost like you put Seungcheol on a pedestal above you.

You wouldn’t be surprised if you did.

“Well, you should start paying attention now because we have to get a good grade on this,” you stated.

He nodded, taking his quill out and the parchment that was already laid on the table for him to write on. “Go ahead and tell me what I should write down for this.”

Seungcheol twisted his body back to the table, showing he was truly dedicated to the work.

“For now, I think we should figure out who’s going to do what and resources.” You were leading this assignment, much to your surprise as Seungcheol was looking up to you for instructions. He was Gryffindor captain, after all, school wasn’t precisely a sweet spot.

“I mean, sure. Does that include meeting up at the library to find resources?” he questioned.

Seungcheol made it comfortable between the two of you. Like there was no buzz flying around as he perched the side of his face on his hand, looking your way. The heartening feeling in your abdomen had to prompt you of the terrain you were in.

“U-Um, yeah. And also like, actually buying Moonstone because I doubt the ones here would be pure. I know a good place in Hogsmeade.” you clarified. He nodded, the hair that was already covering his eyes shaking along cutely on top of his eyes. “If that’s okay with you…”

“Of course. You seem to really want the good grade,” he commented.

“I just…don’t want to do bad at school,” you admitted.

To be frank, the stern list of reminders your parents would give every time you would return to the palace-like school, daunted you.

Pressure, it jostled you to the brim. If they were to hear about the rumours that were occurring at school, it would be over for you and you wouldn’t want that. So instead, you wanted to do your best in everything to avoid complications between them and you.

Seungcheol nodded and then brought his other hand out lazily to poke the skin on your hand laying on the table. “We won’t.”

Your heart was racing yet again, determining his place in you.

You were filled with the same happiness you would get whenever you saw him around school or in the common room in the middle of the night. But this time, it felt closer to your heart, cradling you like you were a child. The kind of comfort you weren’t used to but felt as if you were. He made it seem so natural.

And when you looked at his face, you could only find that Seungcheol was genuine.

The lesson continued with you pulling out a book that you borrowed from your Ravenclaw friend, Vernon and showed him the Moonstone page where there were statistics. The rest of the class consisted of note-taking, exchanging information of times that you were free from extra-curriculums and so on.

You and Seungcheol were so into it, you continued to take it outside on your way to your next classes from the entrapped dungeon.

“So, no next Friday?” you asked.

“I have practice but I can do Saturday morning—woah. Are you okay?”

Someone collided into your left shoulder as you were rising up the granite stairs. As if on beat, one of your quills dropped to the ground. You bent down to pick it up, not looking at the person that nearly knocked you down yet. However, you had the opportunity quicker than anticipated when a high voice played in the thin air. You stood back up to look back at the two girls, draped in the same tie as you.

They were glaring as they talked to each other, walking down the stairs without a respected apology you deserved.

“Oh, look. It’s just what everyone was saying.”

“I bet she’s thriving off of working with him.”

You looked away. They seemed younger than you, not older than fourth year and here they were, participating in gossip like the rest of the Gryffindors. You stole a quick glance at Seungcheol, who was suddenly busying himself with a parchment that was sticking out of one of his books.

He was good at acting like nothing happened, you realised. You sort of didn’t like it.

You climbed up the stairs, furrowing your eyebrows in frustration. “Saturday morning is fine, thanks, Seungcheol.”

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

“Chan, seriously! Sometimes I don’t want to be seen with you.”

He dramatically gasped, causing a loud laugh to erupt from you. The hallways were empty, you were free to act how you wanted around. Even the moving portraits were minding their own business.

“How dare you say such a thing about the Chosen One?” he sulked

You slung your arm around his shoulders, a smile plastered on your face. Feeling light and easy, it would always come around your friends. The weekend, what a break you were waiting for the whole tiring and damaging week.

“I’m just joking, Chan. You know that!” You pulled your hand away, grasping his skills in taking a joke were good. Some people just couldn’t take your jokes the way your inner circle—Seungkwan, Mingyu, Vernon and Chan—could. It was sad that Mingyu had a Quidditch practice to go to and Seungkwan was busy at his debate club. Chan always warned him about not being emotional when debating but he never listened.

With that, Chan and you happened to be free, so you decided to wander around the school’s palace floors, making lots of sounds as you go around like little kids exploring.

“I’m glad I have you in my house.” you sighed, reminiscing that he was the only other Gryffindor in your friend group. Chan stuck with you like glue since he came, thanks to that one time you saved him, Vernon and Mingyu from a troll a few years back. It was like you were their older sister.

“Me too.” he sighed, pushing his circle glasses against his face. He stopped right in front of two double doors, made of oak, momentarily staring. And you would’ve called out a staring problem when a Ravenclaw slipped through, leaving with a bunch of parchments and books, halting you. “Do you want to go to the library?”

“…I mean, why not? It’s not like we’re doing anything.” you shrugged nonchalantly. You were up for anything.

Chan took it as a yes and pushed the door open to which you followed in. It wasn’t busy just because most were still occupied with having lunch downstairs in the Great Hall. You nodded in greeting at Madam Pince as you followed Chan in, who appeared to be leading the two of you, different from how it should be.

The quietness was more as the passings of blue robes were considered the norm around here. Ravenclaws were so involved in their studies. You still wonder to this day why you got into Gryffindor instead.

You had no business in the library as you already came last night to finish all your weekend homework with Seungkwan by your side, making jokes as people were emphasising on tests the next week.

Chan found something though.

“Vernon.”

You searched over to where he was looking and a smile painted your face. A small table of four near the entrance of the library, Vernon sat with his nose in a thick book.

Chan slid into the seat beside him and you took the other side, wary of not knocking over the vast number of books piled up on his table. You could still reminisce the day that you brought him in here out of his mere curiosity and since then, you two would often study together. And now, he was here out of his own will.

He really did grow up.

“Hi.” he greeted the two of you, voice soft.

“Hey, you got homework?” you asked.

“Yes.”

“DADA?”

“Yes.”

“Need any help?”

“No.”

“Want us to leave?”

“No.”

“Like studying here?”

“Yes.”

“One plus one?”

“Maybe—”

Chan and you exploded into quiet fits of laughter. One of your hands came to smack Vernon playfully on the back, seeing as he was too concentrated for his own good.

He smiled a little at his mistake before pouring himself back into the knowledge in front of him.

“Have you eaten though?” you asked, worried. You knew Ravenclaws had a notable habit of not taking care of themselves and it was your rightful duty to make sure that your underclassmen did eat and eat well, it was natural for you to take care of them that way.

“Yes, I have. I just got here five minutes ago,” he replied.

“Oh, we never saw you,” Chan said, gazing over at you to agree with him. You nodded, a little bewildered that he was apparently here for a short amount of time and how had he got that many books in that time?

Opening your mouth, you were about to question him further about his schedule that appeared way too overworked to you but Chan gasped, interferingly.

“Hey, how come you’re here?”

Abruptly, you turned your head to the right at the well-known voice, goosebumps and heat evident to you in a short amount of time. Is he talking to me out of his own will? was your first thought when you met Seungcheol.

“Oh, hey.” you smiled nervously. “I was just wandering around.”

He took a fleet glance at Vernon, who didn’t bother looking up as he was active in his learning and you thought Cheol would’ve left after saying his ‘hi’ but his eyes caught a double-take at Chan sitting across from you. The Chosen One, you were used to it. He stole the attention all the time with that lightning scar prominent on his forehead.

Seunghceol drew out the chair in front of him and sat down.

“Hey, sorry you didn’t make it into the team, by the way,” he said to Chan.

Chan straightened up quickly.

You couldn’t see an ounce of sloppiness coming from him, except the fact that his face was detailed with nervousness for the Gryffindor captain. If not, more than you.

You thought you were the person that got the most nervous when seeing your crush but it appeared that Chan was more nervous about seeing Seungcheol than people were about seeing Chan─the Chosen One at that.

“I-It’s fine! There’s always next year!” Chan assured, not wanting Cheol to feel bad at all. You clamped your lips shut, remembering that the orphan had cried about how he hadn’t made it in the team—Vernon, Mingyu, Seungkwan and you were all there reassuring him and then teasing him for his crying.

Cheol nodded at him, understandingly. “I hope so. If you need help improving, you can always ask me or the Weasley twins.”

His eyes lit up with what you would call the pure excitement of a child. He grinned widely at the assistance he got from the Gryffindor captain that he clearly found unexpected. This was their first time directly conversing as far as you knew. Which was why Chan grabbed your hand under the table as you talked, making you stifle a laugh.

As if you had gotten off from the pedestal of being noticed by Cheol because of it.

“Did something happen?” he questioned you. The hold the younger Gryffindor had on you had relatively loosened as you took in the view of Seungcheol glancing in your direction.

“No.” you dismissed nervously. “I’m—”

“I’m just joking.” he laughed, seeing the way your face had grievously frozen for a second because he called on you. It took you a second to realise and start smiling yourself, dismissing other intrusive thoughts. It was hard sometimes because of the way he looked so easily cold, but a completely different person when you got to know him.

Chan eased into small laughter too. “She’s always nervous.”

You glared in his direction. “Weren’t you just holding my hand under the table?”

Vernon vented with laughter this time from the small banter you two were making. However, it didn’t seem like banter now that the two of you were glaring at each other.

Seungcheol looked at you, making brief eye contact.

“You guys are pretty chill…I’m gonna go downstairs now to eat though. So I’ll see you guys,” he laughed, standing up to leave. Before he turned back around to you. “See you in class.”

And he grinned at you.

Doesn’t he get tired of it? Making your heart race. Because you sure were getting tired of it.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

“That’s not fair! You can’t just make me dissect it just because you don’t want to,” you screamed, the tweezers in your hand shaking. But not because of the open frog in front of you, but because of the fact that Choi Seungcheol was right behind you, his hands tightened on your shoulders unexpectedly as he peeked over to get a closer look at the frog.

You were grossed out, of course, though you were more curious about what it looked like on the inside. With its guts spilling out and the dead eyes edging you, you admitted to yourself that this was a once-in-a-lifetime luxurious opportunity that you would get with Cheol.

Although you sixth years had a crucial assignment to complete, Snape decided to take one lesson each week to go through other stuff as a break from the random potion ingredients and today’s break was dissecting a frog and seeing how crushed frog intestines get delivered and used as a prominent component for memory potions.

Cheol had been scared from the start and begged for you, distinctively, to do all the work.

So you did.

“No, no, no. What are you doing?! What are you doing?! Don’t bring it here, yah! Y/N, pleaseeeee~!” He moved off, just as you pulled up the frog by the hand with a pair of tweezers.

You grinned at Seungcheol, closing your eyes. “It looks so cute!”

“Cute?! Are you out of your mind?! Put it down! I said, put it down!” he yelled, picking up a book and nearly hitting you with it. Had it not been Vernon’s book consisting of mentions of Moonstone, you would’ve teased him further.

“I honestly don’t get why you’re so scared.” you sighed, placing the frog, like a patient during surgery on the baking paper. To be fair, shrieks of excitement and terror were heard throughout the whole room as students experimented with the frogs, so Seungcheol wasn’t the only loud one.

Unfortunately, Snape was far too busy with his paperwork at the front of the classroom to pay any mind to sixth years, except with the telling kids to be quiet or else. Consequently, the classroom was securely made your territory.

“I honestly don’t get why you’re not!” Seungcheol said, disgusted by the way you were poking it. You could see it all from the way he scrunched his nose and then, how his fingers had pinched together the fabric of your robe which settled on your shoulder. You had to show that your heart wasn’t beating a hundred times faster than it was already. The close proximity was such a blessing, even if you were dissecting frogs.

“Look at it! Ewww!” Seungcheol continued.

“Seungcheol, you might as well turn green,” you said, rolling your eyes at him. He clawed on your shoulders, a small smile playing on your face. Then, you shook your head, snapping back into the lesson. You guys were literally dissecting a frog. “Will you at least write the results?”

“F-Fine.” Seungcheol’s iron grip on you was gone and he slipped to your side where there was a parchment with neatly drawn tables by him.

“I don’t have a quillll~” he whined cutely, stomping his feet to the ground. When you laughed, he snatched yours off from the top of your pile of books.

“Hey. Be careful with that, it’s my favourite one.”

“Yeah, yeah.” he bantered. You began telling him all the results and he scribbled it down, neatly, because you had forced it upon him to write it nicely.

You had continued to do so until Snape stood at the front of the classroom, gaining attention efficiently. The bell rang at the same time. “Please leave after packing up all your things.”

“Shouldn’t you dispose of the frog, Seungcheol?” you questioned teasingly.

“Nope, nope, nope. Don’t even think about it!” Cheol shook his head and moved a few steps back as you smirked slightly.

Maybe it was hanging around Joshua and Seungkwan too much or how your friends were mainly younger than you, but seriously, you loved the sight of Seungcheol scared of something as simple as frogs.

You wrapped the frog carefully with the baking paper it was with its guts and all, letting him sigh in relief and brought it to the crate Snape had instructed you previously to put on.

A line of students were waiting their turn to put in the experimented frogs before it was your turn. You noticed the smile on your face hadn’t left but it dropped quickly when your ears peeked at something else. The girl in front of you was whispering with her friend and you had accidentally caught your name coming from one of their lips.

“She literally thinks she’s got him now.”

Your heart fell to the pit of your abdomen, shattered at the thought it was still happening.

You forgot for a second how much you hated it, the situation you were in.

“She’s not even close. I bet he talks behind her back.”

He doesn’t.

“But if I was her, I would switch partners because if I was caught with someone I was talking about for a long time, damn, that’s not even shooting your shot anymore. It’s just embarrassing.”

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Was it embarrassing? Were you not even allowed to get along with him as a classmate? Not even a friend…what did you do wrong? Was it a crime to like Seungcheol because as far as you knew, it wasn’t. Also, it wasn’t your fault that someone was backstabbing enough to spread rumours about you.

You sat in your bed, the canopy curtains drawn in, though the sun was plastering through the windows. All-day, yesterday, you were harassed with the frog dissection with Seungcheol in Potions. Girls begged what it was like, others were just inadvertently teasing you. You should’ve gone to a Muggle school, you thought.

Another weekend had come and you were here, in the morning, dreading everything.

It’s been a little more than a week of being his partner and the stress that crowned on your head was already too much. You had literal trauma from people talking about it, you almost could trust no one.

“Are y'all awake?” Isabelle, one of your roommates asked. A hum of agreements sought through the room from everyone but you. You refused to talk to anyone for the day and you didn’t want anyone to come to you either. You felt like being by yourself, possibly be with Mingyu.

“I think so. Y/N’s still sleeping.”

“…she’s been acting different, huh?” Isabelle asked.

The room went still for a second.

You lifted your head from the pillow a little, quirking up an eyebrow.

Were you acting differently? You didn’t find that you were, in fact, you were trying to not act out of line since you became partners with Seungcheol.

You didn’t want any more assumptions than there already was in the air.

“Since she’s been partners with Seungcheol, she’s been acting like she’s someone else. I don’t know, maybe it’s just me. We’ve all been trying to comfort her since Jade outed her, but she seems so egoistic or she thinks she’s better than us because she actually started talking to him. Like, we get it, you’re actually getting attention from a boy─”

You jerked open the curtains of your canopy, wielding your legs over. The light blinded you for a second as you adjusted your eyes to their faces. The girls were all situated in getting ready for breakfast but when they saw you were awake the entire time, they paused.

“Did I ever say that I’m better than you, Isabelle?” you queried.

For you, it had gone a little too far than you anticipated. You still remember the day that you saw one of the boys from his team tell him about your crush and how his eyes had met yours.

Since then, you knew you were screwed and your respect for the year levels, had disappeared just for a simple crush on Seungcheol.

He had a girlfriend at the time too.

Messy.

“It’s started again─no. I mean, please don’t touch me.” you sighed, brushing Ophelia off.

She was the kindest of them all, although she didn’t talk as much so you weren’t fully comfortable with her despite the many years of knowing each other. It didn’t mean that you guys liked each other necessarily, you just knew about the other a lot.

Their eyes trained on you, the feeling of sinking into uncomfortableness coming again. You despised all of this with tears. The bad attention, the assumptions, the threats─you needed Mingyu.

Your best friend.

Standing up to your feet, you swept past the girls to open the door of the dorm. Your heart sank when you saw that Seungcheol was standing right at your door, a fist up as if to knock on the door but you had already reached it and at the worst time too.

He was clothed in his practice clothes and a big smile on his face.

“You just woke up?” he asked.

“Could you move?”

Seungcheol’s eyes widened, not expecting that you would shoot him, out of all people like that. Of course, that’s what you imagined he was thinking. You were in the mindset that the world was against you except Mingyu, who you badly wanted to see.

“I just came to return your quill─”

You tsked and brushed past the guy, distant from the mood of talking to anyone except your best friend.

Your mind felt obscure and you just wanted to talk your feelings out, potentially cry about why you were crying and the humiliation that was dripping from everyone’s lips.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

“─and I just feel so tired from everyone.” You hit your face onto his shoulder hard, feeling your face get hurt but still, you were persistent in hoping that one hit may as well change everything.

“That’s really bad. What sucks is the fact that if the roles were reversed, he wouldn’t have to be shameless.” Mingyu said, picking the grass on the ground and aggressively throwing it to the ground again in a system of fury.

That’s why you liked telling him about things, he would always feel with you.

“Right?!” you smiled, lifting your face off of his shoulder.

He sighed harshly as if nothing had been in his favour. But you knew the truth was everything was in favour of Mingyu except the fact that his best friend was a total douchebag that won’t stop caring about what other people think about her.

Sadly, this was all because of what your parents gave you—the public humiliation with the relatives, the degradation, the pressure of messing up all started with them.

“Petition to expel Isabelle?”

“I’d sign it, no doubt.”

“Hey, but for real, if you do feel uncomfortable to work with Seunghceol, you’re not exactly obligated to,” Mingyu suggested.

The thought had accuracy up to one disappointing point of it. “I think you forgot who my teacher is.”

Mingyu made a face. “True. It doesn’t hurt to try…still.”

You broadly accepted the case, finding no other way there was in this situation. Despite being younger than you, the kid really knew how to give advice like a free newspaper. He was your guidebook, your breath. How were you to live without Mingyu?

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

“So you’re definite about this?” Joshua asked firmly. Why was it so surprising to everyone that you were ditching Cheol on this project? Was it that hard to believe?

It had to be the perplexing deceptions that said you were super obsessed over Cheol that made Joshua draw to this kind of conclusion.

However, a group of gossipers made it obvious that your choice wasn’t your choice.

“She’s seriously obsessed with him. I heard that’s all she talks about—Choi Seungcheol.”

“I don’t think I need to explain,” you told him with a fake smile plastered on your face. You didn’t know that there was anything else you could do about this except forgetting it afterwards. This was going to be a power move. After this, you didn’t need to think about Seungcheol.

Though, it did hurt.

The one golden opportunity you had, you were giving it up to the fates to someone else that was going to be equally blissful to work with him. You were grateful that you got to work with Seungcheol, even if it was for a little over a week but now, you wanted someone who wasn’t going to sidetrack you from your work neither were their presence around you going to bring up old gossip stories that you didn’t want to hear.

“You don’t.” Joshua agreed, walking into class with you.

After Snape introduced the lesson to the class, you moved over to Seungcheol. He showed nothing from the last visit between the two of you. You were thankful, you didn’t want to bring it up again because you were embarrassed.

You wouldn’t have to be for long though. It was just this period to go through and then, you’d break the news to him that you were switching.

Class did go by fast and you found yourself getting nervous. You twisted your returned quill in between your fingers as you glanced a little towards his way. He was concentrated on scribbling down more notes like you had previously instructed him to.

Seungcheol did everything you asked him to, no questions asked. It was going to be difficult to let go.

“Hey, Seungcheol…” you began slowly when you heard the bell go. He was still writing, wanting to finish the work you told him to do.

“Hm? Did something happen? You’ve been quiet the entire lesson.” Seungcheol said, turning your way. His quill remained on the parchment, the ink bleeding through the same spot.

You nodded, nibbling your bottom lip “I hope you don’t mind if I do this but―”

“Wait. Did I write something wrong? Just tell me.” he interrupted sharply, looking at his work.

“No. It’s not that. I was just…you know what? Seungcheol, I’m thinking of changing partners. You’re a great person, but you’re not as free as I need you to be and that’s not your fault either.” you told him, straightforwardly.

He stared at you and then blinked a couple of times like he was puzzled.

You didn’t expect this at all. You thought that Seungcheol would be super understanding of it and agree that your schedules weren’t in your approval but he just stared.

“I don’t get it. I’m working with you on it during class time and we met up in the library two times already to work on it? Isn’t that enough?” You couldn’t help but detect the daintiest frustration in his voice.

“I know but I just don’t want to work with someone that’s not going to be available when I need them and you don’t need someone that’s going to be calling you to do an assignment when you’re busy.” you lied.

The bell rang and you stood up, sweeping your books off the table in one go. Then, while everyone else was trying to leave the classroom for lunch, you were on the way to the front of the classroom to ask Snape for permission.

“Another question I presume?” Snape asked, removing his eyes from the form he was looking at. His eyes looked as cold as ever and you felt as cold as overdoing this. Seungcheol resembled a sad puppy earlier and you couldn’t do anything about it, except give in to your needs.

“Actually, a request, sir,” you said. “I was wondering if I could change partners.”

Snape set the parchment in his hands on the table. For once, he actually looked surprised. Had the gossip spread as far as to the teachers of Hogwarts?

“You better have a good reason, L/N. I took time out of my own day to select partners.” Snape answered and it would be a lie if you said that you weren’t intimidated by it at all. In fact, you sort of froze there, fixated on his face. You didn’t expect Snape to ask for a reason as to why you desired a switch. Thinking about it in the present moment, it seemed kind of dumb for Snape to just let you off the hook without a reason.

He already had mighty hate for Gryffindors. To make them go through absolute torture in their years was another one of his goals was foreseen by many.

You stood there, powerless to meet his eyes.

“I―”

“It’s because I bailed out on her last minute on the assignment yesterday. We were meant to meet in the library and I had a practice to go to.” Seungcheol interrupted, stepping up to save the day. Or more so, make it worse?

Ah, the white lie. You gritted your teeth inside your clamped mouth, endeavouring not to say something. Another clean save from embarrassment, but did it have to be him?

“Yes.” you answered. “He missed out and now I want a new partn―”

“We’ll talk through it together.” Seungcheol interrupted. You glanced over at him, eyes widening. He was demolishing your plan and wasn’t even looking at you for it. “And if we have anymore issues, we’ll come over. Thank you, professor.”

Parting your lips hadn’t done justice for you as Seungcheol grabbed your wrist and dragged you towards the exit quickly. You couldn’t glance back at the stone-cold eyes almost resembling the dungeons nor had you had any permission from what you wanted.

This is what the staring had to mean from earlier. He was devising a plan as soon as you revealed to him that you didn’t want to work together.

Seungcheol didn’t seem that way but you were persistent of an ulterior motive behind it. Not that you needed to know that either because you severely didn’t want to be stuck with him.

“Why did you do that?” you questioned him once you were outside the classroom. The hallways were quiet, enough for you to raise your voice to ask him why.

“You should’ve just told me the reason, then and we could’ve worked out something.”

He had the sheer audacity to roll his eyes at you, making you scoff that this was the guy you liked. Seungcheol had to know then. There wasn’t going to be any excuse except if he knew what you were going through and he owned up to it.

“Y/N.”

“What, Seungcheol? What more do you want from me?” you asked, annoyed as you walked away. You were prepared for another three weeks of torture.

“If you be my partner, I’ll make sure the rumours go away.” he negotiated.

You froze in your steps and then swung to face the captain who seemed to have been serious rather than playful because his facial expressions were telling you so.

“Why do you want to be my partner so badly?”

A smile settled on his face as his orbs ensued to the ground. You were bewildered at the set of eyelashes, yet from a distance.

“You push me to work,” he answered truthfully.

It was scary how quickly you grinned too, recognising how deep you fell for him. However, just hearing that made you feel better about yourself.

“You’re kinda bossy―not that it’s a bad thing! I kinda need it, you know? To be focused and know that Quidditch isn’t the only thing I need in my life. You made me learn that…I don’t think everyone is capable of doing so.” Seungcheol resumed, looking up at you.

The words took seconds to digest. Then, you stopped smiling and turned around, walking away. Suspense, you thought. Do it for the suspense.

“Are you still going to switch?!” he called as you reached the bottom of the staircase. The smile hadn’t left your face, neither was that heated feeling on your face that you wish would just leave. Relief had rid of the anchor in your stomach that you thought was rooted in the spot forever.

You twisted your head to the side, where Seungcheol was standing meters down the soulless hallway. He was grinning your way. Charming.

“No, Cheol. I’m not.”

You walked away with heat kissing your cheeks, not able to see the smile that had to be sculpted flawlessly on his face. You didn’t want to see it, it would make your heart beat faster. Leaving the dungeons, you went to the bathroom straight away to fix up.

He complimented you for goodness sake―that he wanted you to work with him and that you made him concentrated and he needed that. He said he would make the rumours go away too.

You fanned your face with your right hand as you walked into the girls’ bathroom, not bothering about the fact that you would be late for your next class. You were already far ahead in Charms so it wouldn’t be a problem to catch up.

Right now, you just processed the events again.

Now you knew the sensation of being wanted. Was it the love you were feeling for Cheol that had you feeling this way? It had to be, what else could counter for it?

You recollected the memories where you would gaze out into the pale moonlight at the perch of your windowsill, wondering when the chance of being with him would come.

“Snap out of it,” you whispered to yourself and as if by instance, your face modelled into seriousness. Your next class was awaiting you. So you left the bathrooms to go to Charms.

You had class with the quiet Ophelia and found her situated near the back of the classroom when you got in. You beamed her way, acting as if nothing had happened previously. She was notably good at finding things out through simple facial expressions.

But today, she kept staring.

Were you slipping?

“What?” you asked her.

“You were just in Potions…didn’t you hear?”

“What?” you continued to question.

“Seungcheol…apparently, he called you cute. I just heard from Isabelle and the rumour is spreading fast.”

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

You spent your own time looking for the Gryffindor captain, wondering where the hell the guy was. Even when you entered the Potions classroom, there was no sign of him neither was there the sign of the bright smile you longed for desperately.

So you decided to ask the twins about it, near the end of the lesson as your curiosity had reached high ends.

“Awww, why do you want to know, cutie?” Fred teased.

Your cheeks heated, prompting you to do the only logical thing there was. Which was to seize your book off the table and hit him on the arm with it, playfully, of course.

“Oh, Seungcheol must wish you hit him with a book.” George continued along.

“Where is he?” you pressed on, now urgent for the answer.

“Your boyfriend is sick in the hospital wing,” they said at the same time and then gave each other a high-five. Honestly, have they never had a fight before? They were acting as if they were best friends rather than siblings.

And Seungcheol being sick?

“Really? What happened?”

“Georgie, look! She’s worried!”

“Now this is a love story that I would invest in. Chan bet four galleons that you’ll screw him before the term ends, ya know? I reckon sooner!” George jested and they exploded in laughter like it was the funniest thing in the world.

“I hate you both!” you shouted, simultaneously at the bell going off.

“Couldn’t hear ya!” And they ran off, leaving you a complete mess as you sat on your seat, pondering it.

You wouldn’t lie if you found the rumour appealing.

Also, it was only ten minutes. Ten minutes and Seungcheol let the rumour spread like wildfire. But the question that you kept coming back to was whether he actually meant it or was he just saying it so he could cover up the rumours and hurtful words going on about you?

Classes were over and you left with the group of students who were similarly leaving Potions. What you didn’t expect was your crowd of friends waiting outside the doors for you. Your eyebrows perked up in amazement the same time Joshua bumped into your shoulder from behind.

“You four!” you shouted, a smile unavoidably smacked on your face. You yearned horribly that it would dissolve in thin air, you had no knowledge on how to handle this type of heartthrob if you were being honest.

“At your command,” Seungkwan said, bowing down sarcastically at you. You haven’t seen any of them since the rumours have spread. So you showed no surprise that they knew about it.

“What are you guys doing here?”

“We thought we would come to visit milady after her classes, give her route to the dorms if such thou honour let us.” Mingyu piped up, leaning down a little and very elegantly giving you his hand.

“Please, what is this actually about?” you replied, taking the hand. With that, Mingyu began leading you away, your group and Joshua following you.

“You took a hit.” Vernon stated. “Even the seniors in Ravenclaw won’t shut up about it.”

“The Seungcheol rumour…” you said.

“How lucky.” Joshua conceded while laughing as he put his hand on your head. You, for once, felt happy in a while. Even though Seungcheol wasn’t here, you could still feel him around you and the way all of this was happening, was because of him.

He could’ve easily told people off for the rumours and stopped it like that but instead, he made it better for you to be around others.

“Okay, but let’s go somewhere.”

“Where do you want to go thou lady?” Mingyu questioned.

“Hmm, Hogsmeade?” you suggested.

“Of to Hogsmeade we go!” Dino shouted, pointing outwards. And with that, you were scooped off your feet by Mingyu surprisingly and placed on his left shoulder as he ran off down the hallway. Even the teachers yelling hadn’t stopped the golden boy from running and screaming for people to move, with the advantage of his height.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

“Okay, okay. I’ll see you guys later!” you laughed, walking off from your friends.

“Don’t screw!”

“Protection is important!”

“I can ask if you need it.”

It took everything in you to not go up to them and give them each a smack on the face. You were in the same hallway as the hospital wing, which meant it was dead silent for the treatment of sick patients.

“Babe, I promise you, it’s going to go well.” Seungkwan shouted out. “You got everything you need.”

You spun around for Seungkwan and he gave you a big thumbs-up. “I love you, okay?”

“Thanks, bestie!” you called on him.

Mingyu gasped, offended clearly. That was his own fault. He didn’t get you the way Seungkwan did, which is why he was a literal social butterfly unlike the other Hufflepuffs too.

Joshua and Vernon, too. They stood there with a proud smile as if they were sending their little daughter to school for the first time. In reality, you confirmed that it was the thought that you had social freedom that made them happy.

As for Dino, he was just cheering there and being a supporting friend as he should.

“I love you too,” you said to Seungkwan. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Wait for me in the common room, Chan.”

Chan waved at you excitedly. Then, you turned around, heart wholly happy as you walked off. Turning left into the hospital wing, you saw a Madam Pomfrey come out of her office.

“Hi, Y/N.” the lady greeted, confusion as to why you were here.

“Hi, Madam Pomfrey. I came to see Seungcheol to, uh, drop off some homework.” you said, trying with your best smile possible. Did you or not look convincing was an aggravating question you wanted to ask her.

“The third bed on the left. Be quiet, there are other patients here too.” Pomfrey permitted you.

Relief sunk into your stomach as soon as those words left your mouth but it was only moments before tension built again, remembering who you were going to see.

Moving past the woman, you walked to the third bed on the left, which was covered with the flimsy blue curtain.

“Seungcheol,” you called.

“Come in.”

Butterflies invaded the space in your stomach as you swiped the curtain open. The said boy was laid on his bed, but he was starting to get up again after one glimpse at your arrival.

“No, no, it’s okay.” you excused.

He remained still on his bed, a soft smile coming onto his face. It had been a day, you missed it so much. You took notice of the get-well-soon cards and balloons tied to his bed. Also, a bouquet that was scented beautifully.

“How are you feeling?” you asked, claiming the seat next to his bed. Your legs had come to shaking at his presence. Seungcheol looked tired, his eyebags prominent and the ideal set of lashes pretty even though his eyes were red.

“I’m okay. I think I might leave soon,” he told you. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to class today.”

You shook your head. “No, it’s okay. I get it.”

Silence clouded the atmosphere and you didn’t know exactly what to say. Last time you checked, Cheol was the social butterfly, not you. But he was busy looking at you and that managed to cause many commotions inside your head. You were torn between many thoughts.

“Say, what did you do in school today?” he questioned you.

You looked away from his intense eye contact, faking to think about what you did in your entertained day. In truth, it was to not look into his coal eyes again. You were afraid of getting lost in there.

“We did a lot. I have the homework and notes if you need it.” you said, moving your bag to the front where he could see it.

“I already did homework.”

“O-Oh. Really?” you said, tilting your head to the side.

“Yeah. I’ve been doing schoolwork like the whole day, I rather not get lost at school too.” he nodded.

You quipped an eyebrow, impressed.

“Why?” he asked.

You shook your head, taking a second to process what he said. He really was changing and for what? Had he finally remembered just how much education was vital for a magical person?

“It has to be something.” he pressed on.

“Yeah, just kinda impressed.”

Seungcheol reached a hand out and placed it on your head, a boyish smirk on his face. “Learned from the best.”

You stared into his eyes, feeling your insides crumble weakly. The tower of strength and independence of a woman was easily demolished by Seungcheol─that was the truth. You were too lost in your love for him, it was impossible to get out.

The feeling when you constantly try to leave, but he would just remind you with a simple glance your way. You were his.

“Thanks, but did you need any help? I’m happy to help.” you requested.

“I do, for Charms. Look.” Seungcheol stretched to his nightstand and opened his Charms textbook, already laid ready for his use. He flipped through the pages, prior to finding the question he was talking about. You couldn’t see because of the height of the bed, so you got up and leaned over to where he was pointing.

'What spell is used to…’ You should’ve been looking at the question and helping him as a good classmate. That was what you were doing. However, your eyes favoured a different route instead of the dense lines of the textbook and trailed to his hand that was pointing at the question.

You froze on the spot, seeing two silver rings on his fingers and the popping veins on the back of his hand.

“Do you know the answer?”

“Huh?”

Snapping back into reality, you turned to Seungcheol, who was closer than you last remembered him to be.

He hushed quickly, his eyes fixed on you because of the close vicinity between. Your view darted down to his lips, plumper now that you were close to him. Your stomach clutched, almost like a reflex.

God, they looked so good glistening under the light. You were desperate.

He grabbed your forearm that was pressed standing on the hospital bed to help read the question and for a second, you thought he was going to move you away so you don’t get the wrong idea, but he was moving you closer to him.

Another glance into those settlingly deep-set eyes caused your heart to race. They moved like a dream, like the dreams you would have of one day the kiss with him would happen. It was almost incomprehensible how quick this was occurring. His head tilting, your head tilting, eyes closing and just before your lips could connect to his―

BANG!

You shuffled back instantly, sat back down on your seat.

Nothing happened, which you could safely assume it was Pomfrey’s accident, that noise was. Though it did annoy you quite a bit. You were so close.

“I-I should probably go, I need to go do some homework and―”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Oh, hold on, before you go.” he interrupted awkwardly. Why did he have to do that? You were trying to leave for goodness sake and he wasn’t helping that one bit.

“How are you feeling…about the rumours?”

Out of all questions in the world―

“Um, yeah.” you said, shifting your glance back at his face to see the worry clearly written on it. You had to ask. That’s why you came here in the first place. “Did you by any chance mean it?”

Seungcheol stared at you.

“That I was cute―”

“Oh. No. No, I-I was just tryna, you know? Like, you know? I think you get the point―”

You smiled and nodded. “Get better, okay?”

You pushed back the curtains and left through it, cheeks kissed with heat again. Yeah, I get it, Seungcheol. You did mean it.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

“H-Hogsmeade? Together? Like as one?” you questioned, jaw dropped to the ground.

Seungcheol nodded, holding the vile in his hand and examining it. The Moonstone at the school, like you predicted, hadn’t given the results you wanted. Even Snape had told you it was about fifty per cent pure and that if you wanted real Moonstone so badly, you should go down to Hogsmeade yourself and get it.

Seungcheol took that seriously.

“Yeah, why not?” He slipped the vile back into the test tube holder and placed his hands on the table, looking to his right at you.

“I…I just never thought you would ask like that,” you answered him.

He closed his eyes and smiled at you. “Well, you’re the one pulling out different sides of me. Let’s meet in the common room at nine tomorrow.”

The bell rang, causing him to widen his eyes. You couldn’t even ask what he meant by that. “God, I have a practice now. Do you mind packing up for me this once? I’ll owe you butterbeer tomorrow, thanks.”

Seungcheol grabbed his books and ran out the door before you could part your lips. You widened your eyes, realising that you were going to be alone with Seungcheol in Hogsmeade tomorrow. He also mentioned butterbeer so it was going to feel like a real date.

When the time did come to leave with Seungcheol, it did feel too good to be true. Especially since you were just, seconds ago, twirling around for the nice members of your roommate to see if your outfit was good enough.

They had said it fit perfectly so that’s what you went with.

“Hey.” you said, patting his shoulder.

“Oh, Y/N, hey!” he greeted. “Are you ready to go?”

Walking through the hallways of the school, you noticed the stares straight away.

“Are you uncomfortable with it?”

“No!” you replied.

He raised an eyebrow at you. You didn’t see it straight away because of his hair hanging in front of his eyes, but when you did, you shook your head again to confirm.

“I don’t, it feels better than before,” you explained.

“Well I’m glad because now, I can work with you for Potions.” Seungcheol sighed.

“You’re so obsessed with me.” you teased, rolling your eyes.

“You, out of all people, shouldn’t be saying that, Y/N. Shall I remind you―”

“No, no thanks.” you answered, causing him to chuckle at your reaction. It was like yesterday’s events had wiped away from your minds. Not that you objected to it, you rather not talk about it anyways.

Like every Saturday, the Gryffindors that wanted to go to Hogsmeade assembled at the entrance with McGonagall, waiting to leave the gates of Hogwarts.

Snow had fallen in thick blankets of the courtyard and you were feeling warm with the clothes you were wearing. Thank God they hadn’t forced you into something ridiculously revealing.

“What shop are we going to, by the way?” he asked you.

“Oh, there’s this corner shop that sells really good potion equipment, so we’ll go there.”

“Cornershop? Sound suspicious.” Seungcheol said.

“You sound scared, Seungcheol,” you smirked.

“I am not!” Seungcheol stated, bumping into your shoulder playfully. You bumped back, smiling.

“Sure. We’ll see when we get there, okay?” you said and McGonagall clapped her hands, ensuring everyone’s attention.

“We will be leaving now. Remember, no goofing around, especially you, Weasleys and we’ll be back before lunchtime,” she announced.

The professor routed around and whipped her wand, opening the doors of the school. The group of Gryffindor students followed her off into the exit. Seungcheol and you walked towards the back of the crowd, strolling in silence for a while.

“Your friend going to come along?”

“My friend…?” You turned your head to Seungcheol.

“Chan.”

“Chan? Oh, Chan! He’s so lazy, I doubt he would come along. Plus, his family didn’t even sign the permission form.” you sighed.

“Ah, I see. So it’s us.”

“Why? Do you want someone else to come along?”

“No, of course not,” he said, the town becoming more visible in the snow. It was always crowded in the small town, no matter what time it was. It seemed to never have peak hours. “We’re here, shall we go buy the Moonstone?”

“Yeah.” you agreed with a nod. You directed the way through the clumped crowd of students with Seungcheol trailing right after you. It was hard at first to see through the snow and many figures standing around but when you caught tiny glimpses of shop names, you were easily governed into the way of the cornerstone you knew well.

You overlooked for a second that Seungcheol was meant to be following you when you made it in front of the store, so you looked around for a quick second to see him fighting his way through the last crowd of people and squeezing out at the end.

You giggled at his clumsiness as you pushed open the store’s door. Like you had said earlier, it was in fact a corner store, driven away by the body of people. You enjoyed the eerie but quality vibe you would get every time you would enter the store.

“Dude,” Seungcheol muttered, amazed at the darkness upon entering.

Outside, there was no Sun shining but here, there was not even a light bulb guiding you through except the natural lights at the ceilings poking through.

“Are you sure this is the right shop?” he asked.

You nodded. “Come on, we gotta go find the Moonstone.”

Sauntering through the dark store, it was mainly penetrated by Ravenclaws from your school, looking at books and such things. In fact, you only knew of this place because of Vernon who wouldn’t keep his mouth shut about it. To the point where one day, he dragged you into here to see the astoundment for yourself.

But what was a downside of the peculiar store was the price.

“Ten galleons?!” Seungcheol gasped, as you waved around the bag of Moonstone dust.

“What did you expect? It’s one-hundred per cent pure.” you sighed, handing him the sachet to look at himself. The silver-blue powder was beyond gorgeous in the clear sachet, the magical feeling even Muggles could feel. It reminded you of fairy dust, not that it wasn’t different from it.

It shimmered even under the dark shield of the corner store.

“Hmm,” Seungcheol muttered to himself. “Let’s get it then. But I want a good grade.”

“Of course.” You plucked the sachet off his hold and began going towards the counter stationed in between the exit and entry of the store. The disappointment hit hard that you were going to part with him after this. No one said you were but there was nothing for you to stay with him anymore, though.

Besides, the Weasleys had come out today, so Seungcheol must want to go have fun with the pair.

You drew out your wallet, about to hand the ten galleons to the cashier when Seungcheol smacked your hand.

“Let’s split it.” He appeared suddenly to your right. You looked at him, wondering how he got there so fast. You thought you had left him rows deep into the shop.

“Split? Are you sure?” you questioned.

He nodded and pulled out his own wallet. You tried your best not to soften at him doing so. After all, it was the literal bare minimum, partnership some would say. He was doing his part. But it was so cute, the way he took his wallet out and shot a smile your way as if for you to know that he had your back.

You paid your five galleons while he paid his.

“Thank you.” the two said to the old lady working there and then left.

Protectively, you kept the sachet of Moonstone inside your purse, buried deep within so it had absolutely no chance of falling out. You followed Seungcheol into the snowy weather that transpired into heavier snow than it was before you left the store. You hadn’t expected this to occur, but when you remembered it was nearly time for Christmas, it shouldn’t have been surprising.

“Ah, it’s crowded~” you heard him whine, a little too cutely for your own good. “Do you want to go to the Three Broomsticks?”

“Why?”

“Why? What do you mean why? I literally promised you a drink.” he said, rubbing his hands because of the cold. You were filled with warmth from his presence so you didn’t do anything.

“You don’t have to. I’ll just go back—”

“No, seriously, Y/N. I insist. Come on.” Seungcheol grabbed your wrist without further ado and it was like he was never affected by the cold a second ago because he was pulling you through the crowd to make sure you didn’t slip away and run off. Which did seem like a better option, you weren’t going to lie.

The bodies pressed against you as you walked down the fine white paths wasn’t the most pleasant feeling in the world. In fact, it reminded you of why you don’t go to Hogsmeade often. It was the nauseous smell and feel of others radiating that annoyed you.

You focussed on the warm touch of Seungcheol as he led you through though, completely fazed by the back of his head.

Until, you felt a large knock on your left shoulder, almost pushing you to the ground. You let out a loud gasp, feeling that the warmth pulling you close was leaving slowly as you make your journey to the ground. Until it came back grabbing your right hand, but your bag’s handle was sliding down your left.

Snapping your head to the right, you were foreseen with the sight of a hooded guy reaching for your bag.

“Hey!” Seunghceol and you snapped.

It didn’t take long for it to all settle in your mind as you were already turning on your feet to run after the said person. You had no idea who they were, neither did you have any care for the things in your purse except the precious Moonstone. You almost hated yourself for being such an imbecile and letting yourself get caught off-guard even with the finest detail.

It was no surprise that you were charging after the person, with a serious Seungcheol behind you who reacted with the same speed. When it came to a woman’s purse, that’s how it should be.

But when the Gryffindor Captain was ahead of you, you were starting to lose your breath from running between the tightly woven crowd. In fact, you were sure the crowd was tired of Hogwart teenagers running around. However, Seungcheol lended a hand back, making sure to keep his face forwards to detect the whereabouts of the thief. And you could assume the hand to be a boost, which is why you slapped your sweaty palm on his, letting him take over the situation for you.

“Where is he?”

“Not far ahead,” Seungcheol said, the adrenalin obvious in his voice. He was basically more worried about the Moonstone than you. “I can see him.”

You tried to calm down, focussing on the mission ahead of you—getting your bag back. So as Seungcheol weaved out through the last crowd, you followed right after. He let your hand go abruptly, you could safely assume that it was because he already got the guy, but you were far too busy catching your breath with your hands on your knees. The peculiar stares stating simple curiosity of the Hogsmeade residents had passed you.

In, out, in, out.

“Weasley?!” Seungcheol screamed.

You looked over to see Seungcheol barely metres away and Fred, who had his hood taken off and your handbag with him. You were so close to going to slap him but resisted the urge because you didn’t want to interfere when you were completely out of breath.

“I swear, one day, I’m going to kick you off the team.” Seungcheol said, sounding more like a threat to you.

“Fred, you dumbass.” you insulted with your heavy breaths, you just had to get the anger through and following, there were no excuses.

“Notice how the two of you have anger issues too? Awww~” he cooed with a smile you found so stupid on his face. You were close to just going up to him and punching his cheek.

“Oh, yeah? And we both are going to beat you the fuck up if you don’t get away from our eyesight in three seconds.”

Fred’s eyes widened. He didn’t need to be told twice, he tossed your bag into your hands and ran off. Seungcheol and you laughed at seeing his figure run away into the crowded people again.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

“And you guys beat him up or not?” Joshua asked.

You shook your head, in a daze as a smile stupidly spread on your face. How you were unconsciously falling deeper and deeper for Seungcheol had to be no question, he was so irresistible at that and kind and the list goes on.

Joshua sniggered.

“What?” you questioned, snapping your head to his side. The guy seems to find what you said funny, but he just shook his head.

“Ah, nothing. It’s just cute.”

“Joshua~!” you said, the flustered feeling coming back. You bumped into his shoulder, feeling heat swarm your body once again. You hated the feeling but it was also something that slid over with comfort for you.

The two of you entered your Potions classroom and you split up from Joshua, unluckily only a row away from him with your partner. You weren’t able to avoid his teasing gaze towards you and a busy Seungcheol.

“Stop.” you mouthed and rotated towards the busy boy. He must’ve realised your presence by now but he was far too interested in taking notes than you.

“Hey, Seungcheol.”

“Hi.”

“Doing work?”

“For once.”

“Your handwriting has significantly improved―”

Joshua broke out into laughter behind you and that caused your cheerful mood to drop, described from your face. You glanced over at the Hufflepuff boy as did Seungcheol. What made it worse was the fact that Seungcheol also knew Joshua.

“Did something happen, Josh?”

He shook his head and locked eyes with you for a second. “Nothing, just happy.”

Seungcheol nodded and chuckled. “Same.”

“As you should be. Aren’t you happy too, Y/N?” Joshua returned, being a little too inclusive of you in the conversation. It was between the two of them, why did he have the need to involve you?

“Yeah. U-Uh, reminds me. I gotta go ask Snape for something, come with me.”

You hopped off your seat, making your way to the front of the classroom where the strict-demeanour teacher was sitting.

“Professor, I had a question.”

He looked over at you, barely approving with his eyes that you were allowed to continue.

“I was wondering if you could sign off for us to go get this book in the restricted section. It’s called―”

“No.” he interrupted coldly.

You widened your eyes at him. “But I didn’t even tell you what book it is.”

“The answer is going to be no, L/N. I will not be permitting students to go into the restricted section of the library for this assessment. Whether you be a first year or six year, I am not going to give you such an unnecessary sign.” he explained.

You placed your hands on your hips, getting heated. This man has done nothing but sit around the whole class and it was all because this specific class held Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. He should be a lot more careful who he was talking to, because the last time you checked, someone like Salazar and the Bloody Baron was on their side.

“What do you mean no? Do you know how limited the sources are for Moonstone?”

“Well, maybe then you should’ve been more considerate of what you wanted to do for the assignment.”

“Unbelievable,” you muttered. How you had gotten this disrespectful to teachers was seriously out of the question. Snape was just being a pain-in-the-ass. Oh, did his face look so punchable for a second.

“Come on.” Seungcheol said quietly.

You glared away and walked back to your seat with him following you.

“We don’t really need the book, do we?”

“Hansol and I looked the library upside down and there’s only three books in there that include Moonstone. We borrowed his book and that equals four sources. We need five. And the library has this book all about it if we could go in―”

“Oh, that sucks.” Seungcheol interrupted, sighing. You couldn’t brush off the feeling that you just needed a pass into the restricted section of the library. It wouldn’t leave your mind. Seungcheol comforted you. “Hey, how about we just start making the potion now and then later, we can go look for sources? We only have a week left.”

You nodded, the truth worrying more than the restricted section of the library. The two of you split up to get the equipment you needed to make it. You originally wanted to make it on the side of the classroom with the huge cauldrons but that would be unnecessary as all you needed was a small batch of the said potion.

So you had another plan in your mind.

The mini cauldron stood on your table and Seungcheol scrunched his nose at it.

“It’s so cute.”

“Right?” you answered, grabbing your wand that was tucked at the top of your school skirt. You swished and flicked, muttering: “incendio”.

A small jet of fire appeared on your wand and you handed that to Seungcheol.

“Me?”

“Yeah. I’m gonna be making the potion.”

“Aw, but―”

You sighed, waving the fiery wand around at him. He sulked and got it off you. Seungcheol put the lit wand directly under the small cauldron. You got started immediately on the potion.

As the water was boiling, you rolled up your sleeves and got to work. You carefully picked up the two roses and removed the thorns, setting them to the side. Then, you plucked out the rose petals, gently scrunching them up in your hand and setting that to the side too. The peppermint was already prepared so you had only the pearl dust to go.

You swiped it off the table and measured a teaspoon of it.

You peered into the cauldron to find that the water was starting to boil, so you began putting the ingredients in, including the pinch on Moonstone that was required.

And then, your final ingredient.

“Why are you acting like you’re in a cooking show?” Seungcheol asked as you stirred the small bowl of melted chocolate.

You smacked his shoulder gently. “I will give you the love potion, if you dare do that.”

“There’s literally no point.”

You laughed, finding the choice of words funny until you abruptly stopped, realising what his words meant. He stopped too, seeming to acknowledge what left his mouth. The sound of the stirring you were doing was heard as he tried to move his eye contact from you. “Put the chocolate in, it’s melting.”

“Y-Yeah.”

Did he just admit that he likes you?

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

“So I have no idea what to do…” you explained to Chan in the empty common room. The fire was ablaze behind you, shadowing your figure as you walked back and forth in front of Chan. It had to be hours near dinner by now. Students were going in and out of the dorms but you didn’t pay mind to that as you discussed seriously with the Chosen One. You had been assisting him with his homework all night and he asked if you needed help with something.

This was the only thing.

You told him about the Snape situation, hoping he would magically fix something. There was no point, he was just a fourth year, what was he going to do about it? Especially when Snape hated him out of everyone.

“Hm, this is hard,” he muttered, looking down to his lap.

“It is.” You settled on the ground in front of him, crossing your legs. Chan was in deep thought, more than you expected.

“I need to sneak in there without being seen, somehow.”

“Do you think we all could come and distract Pince and you two could go into the restricted section?” he asked you.

“Too risky,” you answered, shaking your head. You had thought of that before but there was nothing that would come out of it, except points removed. But you desperately needed the book so you were at the edge of asking if you could do it with your group of friends.

The risk was too much though.

Chan gasped dramatically as he rose up from his seat. You widened your eyes at his sudden movements and stood up too.

“What?”

“Borrow my invisibility cloak.”

You grinned so quick, excited that there was a way to get your hands on the book. And relieved that the assignment would end well.

“Lee Chan! You are a genius!”

You cupped his face and pressed a kiss on his forehead lovingly. “Stay here, I’m going to go tell him about it!”

By him, you had meant Seungcheol. Practically jumping for joy and leaving back a flustered Chan, you ran towards the exit of the Gryffindor dorms. It felt like a happy ending. You were going to get the book, seal the project shut and not have to worry about it again.

You were on fire as you ran down the stairs of the palace, impatiently, of course. Seungcheol had to be nearly done with practice by now as it was nearly dinnertime. So it would be a perfect opportunity to tell him.

You rushed by a bunch of Hufflepuffs, seeing Seungkwan on the way. He wanted to stop you and say hi but you were too busy running off to find the captain.

“She’s always running around.” you caught him saying to one of his thousand group of friends.

Exiting the palace, you hiked up your school robes to get down the hill in order to reach the Quidditch field. It wasn’t every day that you had ran this fast, consequently, you felt your legs tire and knew that the next day, your whole body would be shaken with pain.

Just as you reached down the steep, the familiar sight of your house team was beginning to make their way upwards to the castle. A smile painted on your lips as you continued to run down, the pitch-black night served fresh with the scent of nature coming from the forest adjacent.

“Seungcheol!” you called, waving a hand up.

The team snapped their head up, all similarly shocked to see you.

“Hey, Y/N!” he called back. He walked ahead of his team that just as quickly went back to talking to one another but kept eyes on their captain here and there. Of course they would―it was their captain you were speaking to.

“What’s up?”

“Okay, okay! So you know how we need to go into the restricted section of the library and stuff?” you asked, voice full of excitement as you two walked up the stairs.

“Yeah…?”

“So Chan and I were talking about and trying to find an idea when he stands up excitedly and was like―”

Suddenly, Seungcheol grabbed your bicep pulling you closer to his heated body. The smell of dirt was rubbed in him, you could tell but you showed no reaction to it as his eyes had caught yours. You paused in all movements, feeling the throb in your chest you knew a little too well for your liking.

The night had matched his hair colour, making his face as bright as the Moon. The chattering of his team had distracted you from gazing into each other’s eyes in a split second.

“You nearly tripped over, you goose.” he said quietly.

You followed his line of sight to find a rock that you would in fact slip over if you weren’t careful with yourself.

“Ah, I see. Um…”

“Continue. What were you saying?”

“Oh, yes! So, Chan offered to lend me his invisibility cloak―”

“No way! The kid has an invisibility cloak?!”

“He does!” you exclaimed. “We used it last year when we―not important! But we can sneak in, unless you’re too scared to sneak in.”

He gasped. “I am not. And I’m not going to let you do this on your own either.”

“You sound like my father.” you sighed, looking away from his eyes. “Anyways, when do you want to do it?”

“On Friday? I have nothing on then.”

You thought about it and then nodded yourself, proud that things were getting themselves done. “Sounds like a plan.”

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

“Yeah and this dumbass snitched on me!” Seungkwan yelled, jumping to his feet.

“The teacher had to know.” Vernon dismissed quietly.

“You don’t tell on your friends Chew Hansol”

“It’s Chwe not Chew.” he corrected, also standing up.

“I don’t care! Now because of you, I got fifty points from my house and the seniors won’t even look my way!” Seungkwan yelled.

Both looked offended at each other as they stared with fire practically embedded in their eyes. You were the oldest here, yet you didn’t do anything about it. For once, you sat there, knees pressed to your chest as you nervously rocked on the library’s armchair.

The clock was in your view and there was ten minutes until the library would close. Five minutes until Seungcheol would meet up with you.

“Can you both shut the fuck up?” Mingyu asked. And him being only a year older didn’t help that they wouldn’t listen to him. They dragged him into the fight.

“Shut the fuck up, Kim Mingyu. You are the reason why girls don’t even look my way!” Seungkwan yelled. “They only look at me to compliment my fat ass!”

You had no idea what happened to Seungkwan neither did you care that he was over-excited. He was seriously scary when he was mad but no one took it seriously. Normally, you would and you would stop the fight but you stayed quiet.

“Stop. She’s literally shaking because her crush is coming here in five minutes and you guys are fighting.” Chan said.

“Exactly.” Mingyu replied.

You closed your eyes and placed your face into your knees. You did not need to reminded of it again. Heart squeezing in your chest, you released your position to stand up, stressing out more.

The boys had stopped at hearing the news that Seungcheol was going to come here any minute now. No one knew about this except Mingyu and Chan because you didn’t have time to tell Vernon and Seungkwan. Who cares? Now they know.

“Why is he coming?” Vernon questioned, turning his attention to you.

“They have to get a book from the restricted section and they’re using my invisibility cloak because they haven’t gotten a pass.” Chan whispered, noting that Pince was a few rows away.

Seungkwan and Vernon nodded.

“Under the same cloak, so close to me―fuckkkkk.” you muttered, hitting Mingyu on the shoulder out of habit. “Why did you let me do it?”

“BI wasn’t even there. You did this to yourself.” Mingyu answered you.

“Ugh, fuck you guys.”

“Don’t worry, babe. You look great. He’s for sure going to fall for you.” Seungkwan promised.

You felt tired, eyes drooping.

“He’s already called you cute and everyone thinks that he likes you back. So don’t even worry about it.” Chan comforted, taking your hand from your side.

“This wouldn’t be happening without you, Chan. Thanks.” you smiled softly, despite the burden burrowed on your shoulders.

The door of the library opened. Your stomach clutched itself as Seungcheol walked in, a hoodie and tracksuits. He had circle glasses like Chan on and his wand in his hand. He noticed you off the bat since you were sitting near the exit.

“Hey.” he greeted, walking up to you guys. They all go quiet and he greeted them too. “Hey…Y/N, you ready?”

You nodded hesitantly.

“You look so nervous about this, don’t even worry about it. I’ve done this a few times before.” Seungcheol said.

“Uh-huh, with other girls―ow!” you said out of the blue and Mingyu stepped on your feet to stop you from ruining your chances.

“What did you say?”

“I said, boys you should go.”

You looked expectantly at your group of friends. They stood up, exchanging 'good nights’ and 'bye’’s to you and Seungcheol. It was like there was something else besides gravity holding you so still to the ground. Unbelievably still as your friends started heading out.

Quickly but surely, you grabbed the invisibility cloak out of your bag.

“Come here.”

He moved over to your side, bodies barely inches away from you.

“Tell her we all left.” you mouthed to Mingyu.

He nodded and smiled. You smiled back, waving and then diverting your attention to Seungcheol.

“Here.” Seungcheol took the cloak off of you, shaking it down to its full length and then draped the cloak over the two of you. The satin fabric reached the heads off both of you, reaching barely to your feet.

“Move closer, Y/N.” he whispered.

You inched a step closer to Seungcheol, doing anything but looking at him. You looked at Mingyu instead as he told Pince that you all had cleared out of the library already. She nodded and bid them a 'goodbye’ and when she had closed the library door and scuffled into her office, your heart had dropped to your abdomen.

That’s what you hated more. The lights were all on and the woman was still around, cleaning up her stuff, preparing to lock the library.

“Should we go now―”

You slapped your hand to his mouth, stopping his words that were far too loud. Not even having proper time to register what you did, you were cringing on the inside that Pince may have heard it. There was no one else in the library, it was so silent that you could hear a pin drop and Seungcheol had to speak right then.

Pince’s door opened and she peered around suspiciously. She shrugged after that, her features relaxing. But instead of going back into her office, she walked out of her office and was walking towards the light switch which she turned off.

“Lumos.” she said, casting light on her wand. And with that, she walked back into her office, closing the door behind her.

Now that was so much stress under thirty seconds. You felt yourself knot up in ways that you couldn’t comprehend what was happening. Seungcheol was right next to you under the silky material, you needed to get a book from the restricted section, Pince was in her office and now, it was pitch black in the library.

There was barely light coming from the windows.

“Lumos.” you whispered, as you whipped out your wind.

A light appeared at the tip of your wand and you started walking towards the back of the library. Seungcheol walked right behind you, keeping completely silent like you wanted.

“The door is right there.” you whispered, appearing at the entrance of the restricted section.

“How do we get in?”

You smirked at him and pulled out a key.

“Pince might’ve lost a key today.”

“You’re trouble.” he chuckled.

The creaking of a door was heard and you widened your eyes at Seungcheol.

“Your trouble is going to get us in trouble, Y/N.” he whispered.

You turned around to the door.

“Is someone in here?” you heard Pince’s voice boom. Furrowing your eyebrows, you tightly fit the key in and twisted the lock open. Her footsteps were loud but they were going towards the other side of the library. You breathed out sharply and managed to get the lock open.

A small relief swarmed through you as you pushed open the cage-like door gently. Seungcheol followed you in, closing the door slowly and locking it.

“You have the key?” he questioned.

The atmosphere was thick and filling up quick with the frustration from Pince. She was still yelling, not giving up in finding her keys. There must’ve been a lot of students who snuck in to stay back if she was this frustrated.

“Yeah. Stay guard for me.”

“Got you.” Seungcheol got out of the invisibility cloak and stood right next to the door, seeping through every once in a few seconds. It was going far better than you expected, only if she hadn’t realised her keys were gone. You imagined all kinds of trouble that would happen when it came with working with Seungcheol.

You jumped up onto the wide wooden ledge where there was a large bookshelf filling the wall. It had to be here somewhere. Using your wand, you scanned the book binds to figure out the names of the author.

Daphne Willows was the author’s name.

“Have you found it?” he whispered.

“No.” You jumped off gently from the ledge as there were only surnames of the first of the alphabets on that side. Jumping onto the other wall of books, you frantically searched. There was no way that the book was already borrowed, you needed that.

“Come on, Y/N.” he urged. “She’s getting closer.”

“Ssh,” you whispered, looking over the books. Your heart was racing as you slid down the ledge. You were close.

“Walter, West, Weston, Wilbur, William.” you whispered, fingers closing over the bookbinds gently.

“Y/N―”

Everything, Moonstone ― Daphne Willows.

“Are you in the restricted section?!”

You froze in your position, the voice far too close for your liking. What was worse was the fact that Seungcheol could be completely seen but you weren’t. He hid right next to the entrance, back pressed against the wall and it was as if he was camaflouged because of his sweatpants.

“I am so sick of students sneaking in here. Alohamora!” You hated that you didn’t know the unlocking spell worked on the restricted section. That would’ve been your biggest save. Your heart dropped. But the book was right there. So with all the bravery you had, you risked a flash of your hand as you swiped the book out. Pince hadn’t seen it.

Sweat was on your forehead, your feelings a massive rollercoaster between stress and relief from this woman. She walked in and all you could worry as you stood firm against the bookshelf was that Seungcheol was right there, pressed on the wall, hoping he wouldn’t be seen.

She was going to turn around any second to see him.

You breathed out silently, warm air coming straight back on your face. You had to do this for the both of you, you dragged him into this.

You slid to the end of the ledge, where he was standing, remaining calm. Bending down to his height, you threw the remainder of the cloak onto him.

“What do we do?” he mouthed.

“Listen. You’re going to turn around, piggyback me and we’re going to run the fuck out of here.” you mouthed back. Only half of the cloak was on him, but for it to fully cloaked on him and you, you had to get on him. If you jumped down, you would make some sort of noise.

A small smile was on his lips. He was calm for this, so it was confirmed that he really did do this before. You weren’t going to doubt it anymore.

Seungcheol turned around.

“Invisibility cloak!” Pince yelled.

“Quick!” he shouted at you.

You quickly stuffed the book into your bag and then turned back around to wrap your arms around his neck, jumping to wrap your legs around his waist. As soon as you did, Seungcheol darted through the exit, his legs working quicker than you’ve seen him fly in the air. You held your arms tight, your lit wand in front for him to find the exit.

An angry shouting Pince was running after you and her voice had reached a crack.

A small chuckle left his lips.

“Don’t laugh!” you whisper-yelled.

“It’s funny.” he answered.

“It is not―well…”

You laughed a little, lifting the cloak a little of the ground so he could see. Seungcheol’s hands had travelled to hold your thighs firmly against his sides as he ran. You worked efficiently together.

“Don’t waste your energy.” you reminded him.

“Charm the door for me, I think it’s locked.” he answered you.

“Alohohmara.” you whispered as the door came into view. Just like that, Seungcheold pushed the heavy door open with a kick, fitting through the hallway. You could just hear Pince’s screaming as he continued to run for his life and you were glad for a second that you were paired with someone that was an athlete.

Seungcheol ran through the hallway, turning a right and finally stopping. You jumped off, laughing as the invisibility cloak came off the two of you. He turned around, laughing. You leaned against the window, catching your breath from being with Seungcheol.

“StudeNts in tHe lIbrARy!” you mimicked, making Seungcheol double over for a second. His laughing was loud naturally so you had to put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“God, why did she sound like that?” he asked, moving closer to lean against the wall next to you.

Both of you had sweat shining against your faces, but that didn’t stop the night’s humour. Pince genuinely looked like a joke to you. Seungcheol lulled his head upwards before turning next to you, you were slowly calming down.

You turned your head to him too, a smile resting easy on your face.

“You know it’s fun working with you.” you giggled, looking away when you remembered a sad truth. A smile lingered on your face. “Sad it’s going to end soon.”

It was quiet for a second as you examined the classroom window right in front of you. Thanks to the shimmering light of the night behind you, you could see the reflection of you and Seungcheol. He was next to you, close, shoulders almost touching.

“It doesn’t have to end.”

You stilled, the smile dropped. You fidgeted with your wrists as you whipped your head back at him. He was smiling softly at you.

“What?” you asked.

“I said it doesn’t have to end.” Seungcheol moved closer to your face.

And for a second, all your previous memories had gone. The hallway was so loud with your heart yet so silent. The Moon was reflected in his eyes, but you were larger in his eyes. You could see it, he was so close.

“Are you confessing to me?”

“What if I am? You don’t have to be the only one in love…we can be in love with each other.” He didn’t let you speak, closing his eyes as he moved in. It was more of a command made by your body to shut your eyes. You pressed your lips against his, sealing the gap.

All the pressure melted off as the sense of his plump lips were finally felt. You were itching for this moment, events in your dreams were fleshed out into the reality.

Seungcheol smiled through the kiss, bringing you out of the thorough consideration of what was a dream and reality. The reality was so much better to live in, you concluded as he turned so that he could press you against the cold window of the palace, quite a different feeling from your breaths tangled in an intimate dance with each other.

“Go out with me.”

[ BONUS ]

“Congratulations,” Snape said, passing out two pieces of paper on it. “It was very well detailed and the potion was good too.”

You gasped and looked at the paper. Seungcheol smiled at you, his hand perched on the table and his face leaning against his palm.

“What did we get?”

“Ninety-eight per cent!” you shrieked, pushing the paper in his face.

He laughed and hugged you. “It was worth it!”

“It was, oh my God, I’m gonna cry―”

Seungcheol chuckled and put his hand on your lap. “I’m glad. Because of you, my grades are going up. How about we go to Three Broomsticks today?”

“A date?”

“Yeah.”

“Yes! I need a break.” you sighed.

“Ah, it’s so cute.” Joshua sighed from the other side of you.

You both turned your attention to him to see him smiling dreamily at the two of you. “You guys are so adorable.”

“Joshua.” you sighed, putting your hand on his head.

“Not as cute as Vernon as Seungkwan though.” he dismissed.

The fact that that statement didn’t even break your heart proved that even Vernon and Seungkwan were even cuter. The sight of Vernon grasping his boyfriend’s ass so publicly still hadn’t left your eyes. And you knew that Seungcheol was thinking about it too from the way he shut his eyes for a second.

“I told him not to do it,” he said.

“I know, me too. But, it’d be nice if we call them to come with us.” you suggested.

“Double date at Three Broomsticks tonight it is.”

“Ughhhh! I need a girlfriend!” Joshua whined.

3K notes · View notes

minihotdog · 8 months

Text

Whose Wife Is This?

Pairing: John Price x F!Reader

Summary: John comes home and finds out that he somehow has a wife.

a/n: lmaooo I just had this idea before I went to bed the other night. Kinda wrote this in a hurry so it isn't organized at all and the story is all over the place, yada yada. Bare with me... Bear with me? *shrugs*

word count: 1k

***

John tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes to no avail. There was no way of hiding that the long nights he’d been putting in at the office were weighing on him. But with no reason to go home, why would he? He’d just have to complete the mountain of paperwork the next day anyway. His eyes strained from hours of reading, his wrist ached from writing.

Young John Price would’ve never imagined the amount of paper pushing he’d be doing as an operator. His naive young self lived for the chaos of the field, sometimes even putting off his less-than-exciting duties.

“Sir?” John’s head shoots up. The boys stand at his door huddled around the small entrance. “You staying here all night, Captain?” Gaz asks with concern mixed into his voice. John looks over to the now significantly smaller pile of papers littering his desk.

“I was just finishing up. You boys need something?”

Gaz shakes his head, “No, sir.” A smirk plays on his lips. “Just tell your wife we said ‘hello’.”

“I’ll let her know.” He replies absentmindedly. The boys leave the captain alone once again, he continues looking at the papers, shuffling them around before he stops abruptly.

“My wife? What the bloody hell were they talking about.” He mutters to himself. He takes it as a sign that he should call it a night since he is now imagining things. “I don’t have a wife. Why would he say that?”

***

The drive home is silent. At the end of a long day, he couldn’t stand to listen to anything, his mind was too exhausted to think about anything but a beer and his bed. Not many knew about his personal life. Ghost was the only one who knew he’d been married before, but the marriage occurred when he was younger and undoubtedly more immature.

He made it to selection, began his career, and fell into the same pattern many men in his profession did: Partying, one-night stands, etc. He would be the first to admit that he’d been a piss-poor husband and he was now missing the touch of a woman in his life. His bed was lonely, his house devoid of life, reflecting how often he was actually home. He’d become a hopeless romantic, dreaming of someone he could hold in his arms. He yearned for someone to memorize. Their little habits and quirks, someone he’d share moments with, even have arguments with.

He pulls into his driveway barely remembering the drive home. He groans as he steps out of his car, his back aching from the day of training and being hunched over. He moseys his way to the front door and unlocks it while letting out a deep breath. The hallway is lit by a single dim light, the brown floral wallpaper looks like it came from the 19th century and gives the home a depressing look. He unties his boots and kicks them off leaving them next to the door. He removes his uniform top tossing it on the chair on the opposite wall before his feet pat softly against the hardwood floors leading towards the kitchen, towards a beer he so badly wanted to have.

He briefly glances at a photo framed on the wall and continues onward-

Wait a second?

He takes a couple of steps back and his head snaps towards the photo. His eyes scan it knowing for a fact that it had not been there in the morning… Or any time before that. A woman in a white sun dress sat smiling in a field of flowers. He rubs his eyes, unable to believe what he is seeing, she’s wearing his bucket hat.

He looks further down the hall and sees another picture frame, this one on top of the entryway table next to a pot of plants he either forgot to water or wasn’t around to. He rushes over to it and his eyes almost pop out of his head. This photo was of him smiling down at the same woman. He reaches for it, holding it close to his face. He looks around trying to make sense of what was happening only to realize the pot of dead plants now had vibrant green leaves pouring out of it.

Maybe he’d entered the wrong house? That couldn’t be, the furniture was in the same place as it had been before. And he couldn’t deny that the man in the photo looked exactly like him. Just as he was certain he was losing his mind a feminine voice calls out for him.

“John?”

He puts the picture frame back on the table and swings around towards the voice. Small bits of light flood into the hallway from the crack in the kitchen door. He slowly pushes the door further, his eyes trying to adjust to the bright light.

“There you are! I thought I heard you come home.” A woman rushes towards him wiping her hands on her pink apron. She pulls him into a hug but he’s too stunned to react. She pecks his cheeks and pulls him towards the dining table. “Sit, honey. I made you dinner. You stayed so late today, you’re probably starving.”

He lets her drag him to the table and plops down on a chair. She flows around the counter and returns with a plate of food. She places it in front of him in between the cutlery already on the table. The meal looks far better than what he’s been putting together for himself the last few weeks. He usually cooked or meal planned but work this week just didn’t let him and he expected to come home tonight and sleep for dinner.

He blinks at her for a few seconds unsure of how he ended up in this situation.

“Love, what are you doing in my house?”

“I’m your wife silly,” You giggle at him while leaning over to give him another kiss on the cheek.

If he had the energy to argue he would, but instead he decided to eat. He licks the plate clean and brings it to the kitchen sink.

“C’mon, honey. You’re so tired, let’s get you in bed.”

He follows quietly trying to figure out if he should accept this or if he should ask questions in the morning. There’s only one thing he knows for sure in his exhausted state: That’s not his wife.

#captain price #captain john price #john price #john price x reader #john price fluff #captain john price x reader #captain john price fluff #cod fluff #cod drabble #john price drabble #captain john price drabble #myfic

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twilight-orchid · 9 months

Text

Shower Suprise

Jason Todd x gn pregnant reader

Notes: So, I’m currently fighting a war against baby fever and baby daddy jason makes me feral so I decided to write a self indulgent fic. I’m working on a couple sequel fics so let me know if you enjoyed this and I’ll post the others too. I’m not a great writer and have never written for Jason before, so sorry if it’s shit lmaooo

Part 2

Word count: 1730

Contains cursing, unplanned pregnancy, mention of abortion, talk of adoption

Jason had gotten home a little after 4 am. He’d been patrolling the cold, rainy streets since 11 and Gotham had finally grown quiet. His body ached something awful from the numerous fights he’d gotten into that night, and exhaustion had crept into his bones making him feel like he could fall asleep standing up.

He climbed into the window of the dark apartment silently to avoid waking his lover and got out of his gear in the living room. The sound of clanking metal and ripping zippers tended to get noisy. Once in his briefs alone he slipped into your bedroom, pausing for a moment to watch the rise and fall of your chest with a smile on his face. You slept soundly, your hair a nest around your face and your soft snores like a comforting lullaby to Jason.

He reluctantly made his way to your shared bathroom. He’d love nothing more than to just go to bed, but you didn’t like it when he got into the clean sheets with Gotham’s grime on him. And, to be fair, he was pretty gross some nights. He showered quickly, enjoying the steaming water on his sore muscles, then hastily moved to brush his teeth. However, something odd caught his eye as he spat.

There were balls of what looked like clean tissue wadded up atop the trash, which was strange as he’d just changed it before he left. You didn’t have a cold or anything that would constitute using that much. He furrowed his brow, a weird feeling washing over him. Something white and shiny just barely peeked out from underneath, and he moved the tissue aside to reveal not 1 but 4 pregnancy tests. His heart froze, time seeming to stop around him. Dread built in his gut as he grabbed the sticks, and terror settled in as he picked up one positive after another. Holy shit, y/n was pregnant. He’d gotten you pregnant. Fuck.

Something pleasant stirred in his gut but he squashed it down. His child would be in danger every day having him as their father. If anyone found out about his baby, child of the Red Hood and grandchild of the Batman, they’d instantly have a target on their head. Aside from that, he’d be a terrible father. He was gruff without meaning to, he had a short fuse, and he certainly didn’t have any good role models. All he could think about were the ways he could accidentally fuck them up. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice you until you were in the bathroom with him.

He was no longer tired, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he dropped to the floor. Fuck fuck fuck. He couldn’t be a father, he’s Red Hood. He had huge time constraints, anger issues, and most importantly, a lot of blood on his hands. How could those hands, forever stained red, hold something like an innocent newborn in his grasp? A baby, with chunky cheeks and thighs, perhaps with his hair and your eyes.

“Jay?” You asked tentatively. He realized he was hyperventilating. He tried to respond, but he found all he could do is stare at your middle. Your eyes slipped to the floor, taking in the discovered pregnancy tests as he watched your face turn. This is clearly not the reveal you were hoping for. You crouched to his level.

“Jay, can you breathe with me?” He was still lost in his thoughts, buried in his anxiety. But he looked up and met your gaze, your features worried. For him. He closed his eyes and nodded with a shuddering breath.

“Alright babe, in through the nose…. Out through the mouth.” He followed along with you, his hand reaching out. You grabbed it firmly with both of yours without hesitation, running your thumbs along his skin. He usually didn’t like to be touched when he was having episodes, but something about your warmth grounded him. He steadily felt his heart begin to slow down.

You let go with one hand to tenderly cup his cheek, smiling sheepishly at him.

“You’re pregnant.” He said simply. You bit your lip and looked away, but nodded.

“I made an appointment in the morning to get an ultrasound and make sure, but well, 4 positives. Plus, you know how sick and nauseous I’ve been. Emotional, tired, hungry for weird shit…” He cursed under his breath and noted how your shoulders sank. Your hand just barely moved to your belly before you caught yourself, returning it to your side.

“You want the baby.” He stated, though it was more of a question. You sighed in frustration and ran your hand through your hair.

“I don’t know. I don’t feel ready, but I can’t stop picturing a little baby that looks like me and you and I just… I can’t-“ Your resolve crumbled as tears began rolling down your cheeks. He took you into his arms instantly, pulling you onto his lap and letting you bury your head into his neck as you sobbed. He drew circles into your back and whispered reassurances, but his head was spinning.

“I don't know what to do Jay!” You whimpered. He didn’t know either, but he needed to come up with a solution. For you.

A baby. A fucking baby. Bruce would absolutely lose it.

“Well,” he started, his voice calm. He was freaking out, but you didn’t need him a nervous wreck. You needed him strong and steadfast. He took a deep breath.

“There’s allot going on in our heads right now, why don't we break down our options, yeah?” You nodded, still sniffling and sat in his lap to meet his eyes.

“No matter what, I'm not putting a baby in the Gotham foster system. No way.” He started. Gotham had a lot of kids entering its foster system and almost no kids being adopted. Bruce had been trying to help solve the issue for years, but Jason knew if they gave the baby up for adoption, they’d likely have a hard time finding a home. Not to mention the issue still stood that they’d be in danger if their parentage was discovered, except in that scenario Jason wouldn’t even know where they are to help them. You nodded in agreement.

“So that leaves…” you began softly.

“Keeping it or getting rid of it.” He finished. Your lip twisted and fresh tears fell, but you wiped them away.

“I don’t… what do you want to do Jay?”

“It’s your body.”

“And it's your baby.” You responded. That was fair, and he thought about it. There’s no denying it could be dangerous, but there was also no denying that his kid would have the planets greatest protectors on its side. His family would call to arms for his baby in an instant, as would the friends Jason had made through his life. Hell, even the Justice League would defend Bruce’s grand baby. And he wouldn’t repeat his mentor’s mistakes and drag his kid on the rooftops with him. They belonged at home; safe, cared for, and loved. A feeling he reveled in when he was with you. He thought about you holding a toddler in your arms and playing with them, the sound of his child’s laughter echoing through the house. He just knew you would make an amazing parent. Feelings once again rose in his chest, but he didn’t push them down. He let them sit and, once he really thought about it, he kinda wanted to see the little guy live and grow. But ultimately it wasn’t his decision.

“I want what you want.” He finally responded. You groaned in frustration.

“I don’t want you to want what I want Jay. If I say I want it, I don’t want you to agree to make me happy and then feel trapped and then…” you trailed off, looking away from him. He furrowed his brow.

“And then what, leave you? Abandon you to raise my kid on your own? Do you really think I’d do that to you?” His tone sounded almost angry, but he didn’t mean for it to be. He wasn’t mad, he was hurt.

“No, Jay I-“ you sighed and ran a hand through your hair.

“I just don’t want to make you do something huge like this if it's not what you want. And I don’t want to force you to commit to me like that.” He scoffed at you.

“I think we’re well past worrying about me wanting to commit to you, doll.” You stared at him seemingly unconvinced, your fears and uncertainties visibly rattling around your skull.

He sighed. This wasn’t the circumstance he was hoping for, but his gut said it was time.

“You want to see how fucking serious I am about committing to you? Where the fuck are my jeans?” He gently pushed you off of him and told you to stay. He nearly chuckled at the cute, confused look on your face. He grabbed the pants he'd been wearing before patrol and fished his wallet out of his pocket.

“Look at this shit, I’ve been carrying this around with me for months.” You stared at him with a raised brow, wondering what the fuck he was doing. Out of the cash flap he pulled a small pouch of bubble wrap which produced a beautiful engagement ring. It was your picture-perfect ring; you couldn’t have picked a better one yourself. You froze, your breath catching in your throat.

“Jason-“

“No, shut up and listen to me. I love you. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone on this god forsaken planet. You are beautiful, and kind, and funny, and so fucking smart. You’ve been there for me at my worst and my best without judgement. You’re one person that I know I can rely on, and I am so proud that you rely on me. I am a lucky fucking man to have you in my life, and if you want this baby I’m with you. And I’ll be the happiest man alive. But if you don’t want it, you don’t. And I’ll be happy with that too. But either way, I love you and I want you to be my one and only for as long as you’ll have me. So, what do you wanna do babe?”

#Jason Todd #Jason Todd x reader #Jason Todd x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #jason todd x pregnant reader #jason todd x pregnant!reader #red hood x pregnant reader #batfam #batman #dc comics #dc universe #dcu

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caitlinsclark · 2 months

Text

IN THE EYES caitlin clark 𝘤𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘭𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘹 photographer!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 | summary: caitlin's pictures come out best when its the photographer she gives heart eyes to. ✰ bree's notes: this is based on this picture ALONE LMAOOO. I'm just a girl at the end of the day OKOK. thank you @1-800-fantasy for blessing us all with the knowledge of this picture, we all say in unison. word count: 1.9k masterlist and tag list

You might’ve had a bias in your favorite teams to photograph, and maybe that had something to do with the brunette strutting into the room currently. Her natural glow radiated confidence, a polite smile practically glued on her face before it widened at the sight of you near the backdrop.

You had photographed Caitlin in college, an honor that paid off as she eventually requested for you to follow her into the WNBA. When you’d asked her why, she’d thought about it for a moment and followed with a flirtatious grin, “Only the prettiest like you,” Her finger tapped your nose and you hated the way your face heated, “can capture beauty like mine.”

You’d rolled your eyes at her and the egoistic spin she always managed, admiring how she still left you wanting to beam at the separate praise synchronously.

“Looks good on you, Clark,” The lovestruck grin on your face was the furthest thing from professional when you saw her in her navy jersey glory.

Caitlin beamed outwardly at the praise, contradicting the shyness in her body language as she toyed with her hands. It seemed out of character for someone who constantly received words of positivity. Your ego might’ve grown about three sizes at that one.

Caitlin’s hands remained behind her back, interlocked and innocent as if she needed permission to touch you. She most definitely did not. And she gave in very greedily when you put your own hands out as an invitation.

“Would look a lot better on you,” She quipped as her strong arms roped you into a wistful hug, lifting you so your feet just barely left the ground. You wrapped an arm around her neck, using it to anchor yourself as she set you down.

“Worn it plenty of times, babe,” You played the comment off, patting her back teasingly and gently separating yourself to maintain your composure.

“Don’t make me think about that, we’re in public.” Caitlin chided you and you made a noise of shock at the insinuation, hitting her side. She grabbed your hand skillfully before you could, adding another layer to the tension taking up the entire room.

There was no response other than a soft chuckle from you, ultimately choosing silence because anything you said would escalate the situation further.

You took your spot a few feet away from the edge of the backdrop as Caitlin took her spot on it. You snapped a few different pictures, letting her show her goofy personality as much as she wanted.

As you took a break to go over the pictures and make slight adjustments, Caitlin admired your work, and possibly admired you as well in the meantime.

“You make it look so easy,” She complimented the photographs you had taken moments ago. You truly were so talented.

“Well, you’re an easy thing to make look pretty.” You returned slyly, using a gentle touch to tame her stray hairs, for the next picture, of course. She didn’t seem to mind when one of her hands came to rest naturally on your hip.

Her hand gripped you a little harder when you tried to step away to return back to your position and continue with the photoshoot. When you looked at her expectantly, she reluctantly let go with a dramatic sigh.

Without realizing so much time had passed, you both were shocked when NaLyssa entered in her own uniform.

She held a basketball in her grasp as she approached the backdrop, spinning it around in her palms with an impressive control and precision.

“Capture my beauty too!” NaLyssa called out in reference to what you’d just said to Caitlin, making you all laugh as you lifted up your camera to your eye.

Normally Caitlin would have exited after her time slot, but her presence lingered beside you as you snapped pictures of her teammate. She was silent, simply observing you in your natural habitat, a small smile playing on her lips.

“Let me see,” Without explaining her plan, Caitlin crowded around you and it made your body temperature rise immediately without question. You felt a warm graze on your shoulder, light work compared to her next moves.

One of her arms came to wrap around your neck, taking your camera in her hand. You tried not to squirm, but the intimacy of skin to skin contact had your blood boiling.

When you attempted to remove the strap from your neck so she could simply hold it, she stopped you by caging you in with her other arm. Her body angled closer to you, her front resting against your back in the most intimate way you’d experienced.

In a moment of weakness you leaned back and let your head fall against her shoulder, angled so you could look up dreamily at the brunette.

NaLyssa tried to hold character, eyeing the scene between you and Caitlin, amusement threatening to break through. You could only grin apologetically at her as the hold the point guard had you outmatched in strength, not that you’d leave if she didn’t.

Caitlin's tongue peaked out of her lips out slightly as she focused on snapping pictures of her teammate, giving you an excuse to let your eyes flutter down to her mouth.

When the athlete behind you pulled back from the view finder, she stared at the screen of the camera to check her work. You didn’t expect her turning her attention to where you were ogling her a little too contently.

She winked right at you, her lips tilting in a sidewards smirk, and from this close you resisted the urge to kiss her. Just a few inches separating the line between romance and whatever the hell you guys were now.

You slumped your weight against her just slightly and her body responded by pushing up closer against you, her muscles automatically working to keep you steady. And, how did your eyes end up back on her mouth again? You snapped your gaze back to her eyes, but with the way she smiled smugly to herself, you deduced you’d been caught.

“Get that outta here!” NaLyssa cackled like a good sport as she cut into the growing moment. Probably for the better, you deducted as you ached to situate your pounding heartbeat.

Caitlin pulled away and you tried not to trail after the heat she brutally tore away from you. Oh yeah, you were at work. You cleared your throat and shuffled a little ways further from the magnetic force that Caitlin radiated. You passed over your camera and let Caitlin view the pictures she’d just taken.

“Let me try!” NaLyssa and Caitlin played a game of pass the camera while you stood to the side, watching the women in delight as they laughed joyfully.

Caitlin took the basketball, dribbling it between her legs dramatically as NaLyssa got situated with the camera. With her back to you, the brunette kicked her leg up to pose, successfully flexing it in a way that had your mind running haywire from your position.

She was showing off as she began to dribble the ball behind her back, her newest move. Her head tilted back just enough so she could look in your direction, arrogance written in the way her eyebrows raised challengingly as the flash went off, yet her attention didn’t move off you. Beautiful and good with her hands, God had favorites.

Aliyah entered the room as the flash subsided, ready for her round of pictures. Clearly the schedule had been strayed from now. You had half the mind to stray from it entirely at the burning gaze Caitlin was staring at you with.

The forward smiled at you and distracted you from the last few moments as she fully entered the set, “Hey, how the pictures come out?”

You gathered around the camera to look at the last set of pictures. You tried to ignore how Caitlin chose to stand directly behind you as opposed to next to the camera.

But you couldn’t ignore it when her arms wrapped around your neck, her body weight pressing against you in the most welcomed way and her chin making its home in the crook of your neck. The way you slotted together perfectly felt too natural and had you needed to fan yourself.

“Woah this ones hot,” Aliyah complimented Cailtin as they passed the last picture taken, turning the camera to see it better. You couldn’t see the brunette’s face, but you knew she was smirking from behind you.

“You’re giving fuck me eyes,” NaLyssa tried not to drop your camera as her own joke made her belly laugh. Aliyah tapped her shoulder in agreement as she laughed with her.

Aliyah hit her teammates shoulder excitedly as if she'd made a scientific finding, “Dude, she is!" The emphasis on the last word proved her point, "Dear god, was she looking at a model or something?"

Caitlin’s intentionally flexed arms wrapped around your neck from behind, “I was looking at Y/N.” She corrected, surprising you at the way she asserted the correct information for your knowledge and her teammates, "So I practically was."

“She was looking at the catering just for her,” your head nodded toward the chocolate chip cookies right behind you in denial and a small laugh cushioned it.

“That’s how I stare at you all the time.” Caitlin spoke firmly in disbelief at your denial, causing you to swallow as you tried to process her words. She had to be kidding, right?

“It’s in the eyes,” NaLyssa whispered to Aliyah as a little inside joke, nudging her teammate as they both burst into giggles.

“It is not,” Your voice raised an octave with a scoff as you turned your head to get a glimpse of Caitlin’s face. The look she was giving you was scarily similar to the one captured on camera and it made a pool of nervousness develop in your stomach.

You turned your head back immediately, a shy side taking over your usually forward persona, “Okay, yes it is.” You gave in, your hands resting comfortably on the skin of her arms Caitlin had wrapped around your neck.

In a moment of pure desire, your heart took control over the rationality of your brain and your feet moved toward the door with a new determination.

“Okay, keep the camera, ladies!” You called out, a promise to take Aliyah’s pictures in just a few hours once you'd returned. You used the position Caitlin had you in to your advantage as she had no choice but to go with you. She followed you closely, her arms only slightly loosening around you.

You made quick work of switching to lead her out of the room by her wrist, a delicate grasp as you wordlessly lead her outside.

Caitlin raised her eyebrows, confused but intrigued nonetheless, “Do I get to know where I’m being whisked off to?” But her tone lacked any kind of opposing factor at going anywhere with you.

“Pictures aren’t free,” You scoffed playfully and she indulged you intently with the silent hope of maintaining the skin to skin contact, “You’re taking me on a date and you have about a years worth of payback..”

Caitlin’s wish was granted as you linked your hands together and pulled her out toward the door. For the first time, you couldn’t ignore the love in her eyes as she eagerly followed after you.

TAGLIST! @lovermcres @glorioushamsterqueen @miedmead @blueagle45 @pbloverr @cavillary @elizabethkitley

#caitlin clark #caitlin clark x reader #wnba basketball #wbb x reader #wnba #basketball #caitlin clark x y/n #caitlin clark fic #caitlin clark x fem!reader #indiana fever #wnba x reader #iowa wbb

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jaquemuses · 8 months

Note

i’m an angst comfort GIRL so if you would be interested in writing anything maybe about childhood friends enzo and reader where it’s right people wrong time for years ( definitely mutual feelings, maybe reader always thought enzo was too good for them so they never really thought they had a chance but is oblivious to the fact that enzo was head over HEELS for them but was worried about dragging them into the spotlight as he grew more famous) until they finally end up together i’d be thrilled!! ofc no matter what thank you so much!! have a great day/night!!❤️❤️

GIRL ME TOO !!! so glad you requested it, i wrote this, hope u enjoy it ♡♡

Starry night | Enzo Vogrincic

Synopsis: Sharing feelings has always been challenging, but under the starry sky, sitting right beside his childhood friend on the eve of his movie premiere party, Enzo confesses a love that has lingered his heart since he was seven.

Word count: 1.5k

Content: Enzo Vogrincic/Reader, mutual pining, childhood friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, fluffy overall, no explicit content, focus on emotions, and strong affection for Enzo, references to ghibli's movies.

a/n: hi there !! i hope you guy enjoy this i pulled an all nighter just to write it lmaooo so bear with me if there's any typos or such; english isn't my first language, but I hope it's a good read!

- xoxo Kara ♡

Time slips away so quickly.

Beneath the starry sky, the weight of its passing moments engulfs you like a fuzzy tidal wave, heavy and suffocating. Sinking beneath its weight has become your routine.

A soft, resigned sigh escapes your lips, the midnight air crisp on your tongue, turning into vapor in the summer night. Beyond your sight, stars burn in tandem, the cosmos vast and immersive. The moon, tonight, is a big blob of reflected sunlight, smiling tenderly, casting a soothing glow like a mother's voice.

In the familiarity of the sight, there's comfort. The moon, always there, in crescents or hidden by clouds, a constant in a changing world. What a peculiar and lovely thing it is to be under the celestial dance, where even the moon, with its timeless presence, seems to join the ever-moving cosmic ballet.

As you lay on the rooftop, the distant melody of music from the house below reaches your ears. It's a reminder of shared laughter, playful banter, and the bond you once had with Enzo. The thought of losing him, not just as a childhood friend but as this life partner makes you wanna cry right there.

Another second lost, as you gaze into the nothingness of space. Time keeps passing you by, never stopping —seconds turning into minutes, minutes turning into months. that incessant moving of the hands of the clock; tick, tock, tick, tock. over and over again.

and, really, it's a little bit scary. you think you might be terrified of time. you're so afraid, afraid of being left behind, afraid that the world will turn its back on you and then walk away. afraid that everyone and everything will change shape before you know it

The music serves as a soundtrack to your memories, a bittersweet symphony echoing through the night. Enzo, your companion through the years, feels like he's slipping away, and the weight of that potential loss is heavy against the backdrop of the starlit sky.

But even in this always-changing, turbulent mess of a life

one thing remains the same;

"Ah, there you are," Enzo's voice, honeyed and familiar, breaks the silence. A small smile graces your lips at the sight of him.

That voice...

honeyed and smooth, but still rough around the edges, just a little husky. Deep and familiar, etched into your brain; even if you were to forget everything else, you're sure you'd still remember it. That familiar voice. It sounds like moonlit nights, and sunkissed kitchens.

it sounds like coming home.

A turn of your head. it's a subconscious reaction, as natural as the beating of your own heart, memorized down to the very marrow of your bones — muscle memory, to seek him out after hearing the low timbre of his voice. You do it as if it's the only thing worth hearing.

And Enzo is smiling, when your eyes meet his. That gentle upward tug of his lips, small yet sincere. The one that always puts your mind at ease.

"How'd you know I'd be up here?" you tease, a playful glint in your eyes.

"Lucky guess," Enzo replies, his grin revealing the comfort of shared moments.

Of course, he knew. Tracking you down was his thing, always has been. Like that time when he found you concealed under a table at your twelfth birthday party or the time he discovered you teary-eyed in the woods during your school field trip.

Finding you always comes easy to Enzo. Almost like he's always seeking you out, subconsciously or otherwise, always paying attention to your movements. You go south, and he follows, you go north, and he's already waiting up ahead.

"Damn, how'd you know?" you playfully pout, looking into him.

"I always know, silly" Enzo confesses softly, his eyes holding a warmth that speaks volumes. "I've known you since we were seven"

A gentle inhale passes between you as the silence settles, the moon casting its glow on your shared history.

"I thought you might be too busy with, you know, the whole famous actor thing," you admit trying to make it a joke but insecurity creeps into your words. "Congratulations on that, i always knew you'd make it"

The whole party underneath you both was for Enzo, you felt kind of stupid for leaving so suddenly, after all tonight's was Enzo's night. But before he realized it, you had slipped away, seizing the chance as soon as others grew too drowsy to take notice.

But he always notices you.

And he's worried. just a bit, is what he tells himself but truthfully it's more than that.

You look small, enzo thinks, curled up with your knees to your chest. Sitting all alone up on the roof of his home, a place you'd always go to on nights when you couldn't sleep. Together, sharing whispered secrets and hushed laughter until the sun began to rise again. Back then, it felt like the two of you were the only ones awake in the whole world.

(the safest world he's ever known.)

The distance between you grows narrower, as enzo makes his way over to you - and it always does, at the end of the day. No matter how much time you spend apart, that uncomfortable distance always, always ends up broached. One of you always moves closer. As if it's unavoidable, two planets spinning around each other's orbit.

Enzo sits down right next to you, crossing his legs and leaning back. his knee bumps against the side of your shoe, and his shoulder grazes yours. It's natural, as natural as the glow of the moon, this closeness between you. It reminds you of the gentle lapping of the ocean waves of Punta del este at your bare ankles; on mellow summer days when you were 10 and went to a trip with your parents and Enzo's, comforting and familiar. A warmth that never goes away.

The moon bathes the rooftop in a gentle glow as Enzo chuckles in response to your teasing remark. "Busy? Yeah, it gets a bit crazy, but it's moments like these that remind me of what truly matters. And you know im never too busy for you." He shifts, a thoughtful expression on his face, as he gazes at the city below.

A brief inhale, and your heartbeat settles into a tender rhythm again. The scent that always lingers on Enzo's skin drifts throughout the air, mingling with your own — it can be hard to distinguish between the two, with how often you end up wearing each other's clothes, but you could never mistake it for anything else. Cedarwood and earl gray, with a hint of coconut-scented shampoo enveloping every single one of your senses, grounding you in a way nothing else can.

Leaning just a little closer to him, subconsciously, youet a fond exhale slip from your lips. Barely audible. And Enzo mimics it.

The silence between you is a comfortable one. Always has been. A little fickle, always shattered by one of you before long —usually you, though enzo isn't much better. But this time, he stays silent.

He's waiting. You know he is, because he always does.

He's waiting, waiting for you to break the silence first. Waiting for you to say something, tell him what's wrong, explain why you're up here instead of celebrating with the others. Waiting for you to explain why your eyes have looked so tired, this past week.

Enzo is nothing if not patient. So he waits, unbothered by the silence. Admiring the stars, and the flicker of their light. A vague worry simmers in his chest, however, and he can't stop himself from glancing down at you every now and then.

An insatiable yearning to soothe you gnaws at his heart

—but he can't, not unless you let him.

A sigh drops from your lips, suddenly. Deep and heavy, ike a rock thrown into the depths of a lake. The silence breaks.

"En...?"

The guy stays quiet, just humming inquisitively. He avoids eye contact, showing respect. He figures you'll spill what's on your mind more comfortably without him staring.

Your fingers lightly tap the rooftop tiles out of habit. You take in a bit of the midnight air—it's got that summer taste. "Remember how we first met?"

Enzo glances at you, surprise flickering in his eyes. He can't resist the urge to peek at your face, savoring your expression. Then, a chuckle escapes him. "Are you feeling sentimental?" he teases, a playful note in his voice, light and airy like seafoam. "Did you come out here just to reflect?"

The corners of his lips lift when he hears you huff, pulling your legs closer with a furrowed brow. Cheek pressed against your kneecap, you meet his gaze.

"Come on," you whine, pouting childishly, a trick you know will make him give in. "Just indulge me a little."

Enzo smiles, soft around the edges, radiating unmistakable fondness. He always indulges you. "Of course I do," he assures you.

The quiet settling between your words holds a tender understanding, a silent agreement.

"Of course, I remember. How could I forget? You broke into my backyard."

A sigh, weighty and pointed, escapes your lips. Enzo fights back a grin; his eyes dance with teasing mischief in the darkness as you shoot a glare his way.

"Okay, first of all," you begin, "I didn't break into anything. I climbed over the fence. Peacefully."

Enzo raises a brow. "That literally doesn't matter; it's still trespassing."

"I was seven years old!"

"Damn! Some of you criminals start young."

Another playful huff escapes you as you halfheartedly attempt to sound annoyed. Unsuccessful, you hide your growing smile by tucking your face into your knees. "Whatever."

Then your gaze shifts, drawn to the expanding starry sky, the vibrant flicker of the moon like a moth to a flame, helpless to its charms. It resembles a giant sponge cake, reminiscent of the ones you and Enzo used to make when that was the only recipe you knew – you'd eat from the batter, and he'd scold you. Then he'd do the same when your back was turned.

A smile graces your lips. In each star, a new memory unfolds, and the warm nostalgia surrounding you makes your heart feel exposed. "I just wanted to pet Ada" you reminisce, softly rememberig how little the cat was back then.

Enzo nods, his gaze directed at you, reveling in the expression on your face – tranquil and at ease, a bit more of yourself. Effortlessly lovely, bathed in moonlight. "Yeah, I remember."

He lets the memory carry him away for a moment or two, recalling the sight of you all those years ago, an unfamiliar child in his backyard. It was as if you had fallen from the sky – quiet and shy, yet with an excited glimmer in your eyes as you looked at his cat.

"You just pointed to her and expected me to understand," he continues, a grin blooming on his face, hopelessly endeared. "You were so shy back then."

A raise of your eyebrow. "Um? I'm still shy?"

Enzo gives you a look. He doesn't have to say anything – it's written all over his face. The classic Vogrincic look, the kind where you can tell he's itching to say, "Oh, really now?" The kind where he tries to appear judgmental but never quite manages to hide the amusement in his eyes.

A soft chuckle escapes your lips, and Enzo smiles once more, utterly captivated by your joy.

"Then we watched movies at my place,"

You hum. "It was fun."

"Yeah," he agrees.

Another spell of silence descends, tender and incredibly precious. The air is cool but not enough to make you shiver – a mild summer night, gentle on your skin and light on your heart. A soft breeze tousles your hair, and in the distance, cicadas buzz – a familiar, unchanging sound.

(If only everything else could remain the same, too.)

"Do you remember what movie it was?"

A lazy smile graces Enzo's lips as he turns to look at you, one eyebrow raised.

"Is there a point to this, or are you just trying to make m–"

"I just wanna reminisce."

Enzo pauses, observing your gaze as it wanders across the landscape, from the moon to the distant city lights. Absentmindedly fidgeting with the strings of your hoodie, you seem a bit lost, your eyes forgotten within the depths of the endless night sky.

No more teasing, he decides, choosing a more delicate approach. He answers your question softly, as if each octave of his voice could potentially cause you harm. "Whisper of the Heart," he reveals.

A little nod follows your hum of agreement. "Thats a top-tier one."

Enzo shifts his gaze away, muttering something under his breath. Still audible, though. "Spirited Away takes the cake..."

Catching a glimpse of your unimpressed look, he suppresses a soft laugh. His teeth graze his lip gently, just enough to avoid any sting.

"You're so basic," you playfully grin.

"You just want to feel special," Enzo retorts, quick on the uptake. "And you only like it because of Seji."

"You're only a Spirited Away fan because of Haku!"

Enzo closes his eyes, leans back a bit, crossing his arms in a somewhat childlike manner – a move aimed at drawing out laughter. "I don't know what you're talking about," he pretends.

"Oh, come on," you scoff. "Do you really think I've forgotten your sudden "enlightenment"?"

"Hm? What's that?" Feigning confusion, Enzo puts a hand to his ear, amusement twinkling in his eyes. "You'll have to come closer; I can't hear you from here."

Another unimpressed look accompanies your exhale, a mix of a scoff and a chuckle. "If I get any closer, I'll be in your lap, goofball."

Enzo bites his cheek gently, holding back the words that almost slip off his tongue.

(He wouldn't mind)

"Sorry, can you repeat that?" A playful nudge meets his shoulder as you roll your eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

The banter fades away as quickly as it came. Then, smiles break out across both your faces simultaneously, the atmosphere shifting into something more sincere. Doesn't it always when you're gazing at the starry sky with the one you love most?

As Enzo continues, his voice takes on that softer tone once again—the one thats only reserved for you. "I always liked imagining us as them," he confesses. "Me as Haku, and you as Chihiro."

A soft blink, and your smile sweetens like syrup. "...That's amusing," you cross your legs, palms flat against the roof, knee comfortably leaning against Enzo's. "I always thought of us as Seiji and Shizuku."

There's a distant look in your eyes, something Enzo can't look away from. Tentatively, his fingers press into the skin of his palms, and he speaks, absentminded and a bit uncertain. ".. they get married at the end, don't they?"

A pause, then your gaze locks onto Enzo's, suddenly mischievous – and he regrets opening his mouth.

"Oh?" you purr, almost beaming, closing the distance like a

predator sizing up its prey. "Oh, really? Is this a proposal, Mr. Vogrincic?"

"I'm just stating facts" he quips, hands raised in defense, hoping you won't notice the red tint creeping up his neck, hidden by the night.

"Incorrect facts," you grin. Whether you catch the blush or not, you don't mention it. "They get engaged, not married. Big difference."

Enzo huffs, small, trying to suppress a smile. The beat of his heart is faint, a gentle rhythm stirred by every move you make. He pushes back the words he longs to say. "I wouldn't mind that, either."

Once again, silence envelops you, weaving around the space between you. It's comforting, just being like this; you and your best friend under the moon's soft glow. As if you're the sole inhabitants of an otherwise vacant universe, free from space and time.

Like the night could pause and stretch on forever.

Yet, there's an unspoken question lingering. One Enzo is still waiting for you to answer. One you won't address until he does the same.

Both of you have noticed, even if no one else has – the turmoil in your eyes, the fatigue under his. Those subtle signs of stress as everything around you keeps twirling on, as the future approaches with every passing day.

"Remember how school felt like it would last forever, and now... it's all just a blur."

Enzo's eyes light up with nostalgia. "Yeah, the days when we believed we could conquer the world. Time goes by so quickly." He pauses, a wistful smile playing on his lips. "But hey, we had some pretty great adventures."

A soft laugh escapes you. "Adventures, mischief, and a fair share of detentions. I miss those days."

Enzo grins, "Our secret base, the pranks we pulled, and the dreams we shared. Life was simpler back then."

You sigh, "Simpler, but full of possibilities. Now everything feels like it's rushing by, and I can't keep up."

Enzo reaches for your hand, offering a comforting squeeze. "You're not alone in feeling that way. I miss the simplicity too, but some things haven't changed." He looks into your eyes, his gaze holding a depth of emotions.

"Yeah, your talent and that dream that's not a dream anymore En. Its now your reality, and I'm so proud of you, I'd always knew you'd make it" You said with a nostalgic smile on your face.

Deep down, you knew you'd end up losing him; he had everything to succeed in the industry.

Enzo meets your gaze, a hint of gratitude in his eyes. "Thank you, sweetheart... It means a lot to hear that from you."

As Enzo utters the endearment "sweetheart," a fluttering sensation courses through your stomach, a delicate dance of butterflies that seems to synchronize with the newfound warmth in your chest. With a surge of emotions enveloping you, you can't help but wrap your arms around Enzo's body, hugging him tightly and feeling the size difference between the both of you. A murmured "of course" escapes your lips.

The moonlight paints a soft glow around you both, and the distant sounds of the party create a gentle background melody. Enzo takes a moment after the hug, collecting his thoughts, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand.

"There's something I've been wanting to tell you for a long time, You know?" He starts, catching your eye. "Oh look who's reflecting now" You say as you laugh softly. "What is it?"

"These moments, right here, remind me of the times when life was simpler, and we were just two kids dreaming under the same sky." He pauses, searching for the right words.

"You know, when we were younger, I used to take you to the cinema, to the lake, even on your 15th birthday... Each time, I wanted to tell you something important, but I never found the right moment. It's been on my mind, and I'm tired of postponing it."

Your heart quickens at his words, confusion mingling with anticipation. Enzo's expression shifts, becoming more serious yet tender.

"Do you remember those times? I was trying to say that..." He hesitates a little, his eyes looking straight into yours, noticing how every single star can fit on your gaze "I'm in love with you. From the days of our childhood adventures to now, you've always been the girl of my dreams. I wanted to share my success with you because you've been my constant, my anchor."

The weight of his confession hangs in the air, and your mind races to process the revelation. Enzo continues, "I know that recently the world sees me as this actor, but to you, I just want to be Enzo. The boy you've known since we were seven. I'm tired of hiding my feelings, and I didn't want to lose another moment without letting you know."

Silence stretches between you, the memories of your shared past intertwining with the present. You're caught between the familiarity of nostalgia and the unexpected confession, yet, suddenly, some things start to make sense.

Enzo's eyes search yours, vulnerable and earnest.

"En, wait... what do you mean? In love with me? Like, as a friend or...?" Your words trail off, searching for clarity.

Enzo takes a deep breath, his thumb caressing the back of your hand. You can feel him shaking. "No I mean, romantically in love with you. Since we were kids, I've tried to tell you, but I never found the right moment."

Your eyes widen, replaying moments in your mind. "Wait, are you saying all those times – the cinema, the lake, my 15th birthday – you wanted to confess your feelings?"

Enzo nods, a mix of vulnerability and sincerity in his eyes. "Exactly. I kept hoping for the perfect moment, but life just kept moving too fast"

Your mind races, grappling with the revelation. Enzo continues, "What im trying to say is you've been the girl of my dreams since i can remember. I wanted to share my success with you, not just as an actor but as the person who's been my constant through it all."

Silence envelops the rooftop, the city of Montevideo below seemingly hushed in anticipation. Enzo looks at you, his expression a mosaic of hope and uncertainty.

After a moment of processing, you break into a soft laugh. "Enzo, this is... I... i just never saw this coming... oh my god"

With a warm smile, Enzo pulls you into a hug, and you reciprocate, embracing the familiarity of his presence. "Its okay if you dont feel the same... but I... I've just been carrying this for so long; it feels good to finally share it with you." He says with a sad tone.

As you're held in Enzo's embrace, the vulnerability of the moment encourages you to share your own feelings. "Enzo, no... Its not that, its just that I... I never thought you'd see me that way. I always felt like you were way too good for me, like I'd never be enough, so i always thought it'll be pointless to confess because you'll end up leaving me... And its just the thought of losing you as a friend and now knowing you've felt this way for so long, it's just overwhelming."

Enzo loosens the hug, gently holding your shoulders as he looks into your eyes. "You were always more than enough. I never wanted to risk our friendship, but holding back these feelings became harder as time went on. Our friendship means the world to me, and the fear of losing you kept me silent."

Tears glisten in your eyes as you continue, "I spent so many nights up here on this rooftop, wondering if I was just another friend among many for you. I never thought I could be the one you'd be in love with."

Enzo wipes away a tear with his thumb, a tender smile on his face. "You were never just another friend. You were the one who understood me, laughed with me, and stood by me through it all. And I've been in love with you since we were kids."

The weight of unspoken emotions finally laid bare, you share a bittersweet laugh. "Guess we were both too scared to ruin what we had."

Enzo nods, his hand now resting on your cheek. "Maybe, but holding back feels like a bigger risk now. I don't want to waste any more time, not when i don't know how much of it we have left"

As the moonlight bathes both of you, you take a deep breath and finally say, "Enzo, I've always been in love with you too."

A shared understanding and a newfound honesty linger in the air as Enzo leans in and his lips meets yours in a tender kiss, a culmination of years of unspoken emotions and shared moments. In that intimate exchange, the rooftop becomes a sanctuary for a new beginning, and just for that moment: time seems to stand still.

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