#dark!dream oneshot

[dotieeee]

A Small Act of Kindness

A DARK one-shot

Pairing: Dark!Morpheus x you, afab reader

Warnings: dark!Morpheus, obsessive behaviour, dark!Dream won't take 'no' for an answer, disturbing themes like kidnapping, imprisonment, isolation, etc, 18+ only!!

Inspired by this ask for @roguelov See: https://www.tumblr.com/roguelov/721739134130143232/this-isnt-smut-but-dream-has-strong-miette?source=share

Summary: You were at the cusp of making a life for yourself when you bought a loaf of bread for a stranger, who seemed a little bit too taken with such a nice gesture.

When you were a kid, everybody around you seemed to think you got a great life ahead of you. You kept hearing them comment how bright you were, how talented, how lucky your parents were to have such a behaved, wonderful child - and for a time, it got to your head.

Until life proved you weren't really any of those things.

It started creeping in when you went away to college. You had a taste of freedom, of zero expectations, and a glimpse of a world suddenly leagues beyond yourself. It was one class at first, then another, until you started dropping out of every class and left college altogether.

Many therapy sessions, and a couple of therapists later, you found out what it was called: burnout. It just so happened it plagued you a little early in life.

In retrospect, perhaps you could've tried harder - if you had just snoozed your alarm off a little less; if you had just grit your teeth and stomached your way through a few more algebra periods instead of sitting alone in that little corner of the library, reading whatever, hidden from a world you barely knew - perhaps it all would've been different.

Perhaps, you wouldn't be stuck in this small, glass cage floating in a vast chasm, in a place you hadn't thought existed even in your wildest dreams.

It was a day like any other, you supposed: the day you met him. You had to go to work, to a desk job that you actually liked, writing for a local food magazine. You were quite good at it too - it's a skill you had when you were quite young and had not had a chance to cultivate until late. Sure, you were barely making ends meet and had very little time to spare, what with taking a certificate course at a nearby university and recently moving out of your parents' house to rent your own little apartment, but you were feeling optimistic for the first time in a long while. Your boss just let it slip the other day that you were due for a well-deserved promotion soon. It was a slow process, but you were finally on your way to getting your life back together. You had a future you looked forward to.

Having already established your morning routine, you were on your way early to the office and decided to stop for coffee at this corner bakeshop you had once featured in one of your articles. The smell of freshly baked bread distracted you from a mental draft you were making for an article due tonight, so on impulse, you asked the cashier for a plain butter croissant at the counter. You looked to your right where the pastries were to see whether you wanted something else (the danishes looked scrumptious). You opened your mouth to ask the other lady behind the bread counter for a cherry danish, but her attention was already on the man beside you, clad in a thick, woollen black coat, collar upturned, his chiselled jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly at the question the lady posed for him.

"Uh, sir? I asked what you'd like to have?"

He tilted his head imperceptibly and for a moment, you thought he couldn't speak, until he opened those pursed lips, and finally, came out the most velvety, alluring voice you've ever heard: "I'd like some bread, please."

"Well, we've got quite a lot of them," the lady replied slowly as if she was trying her best not to be snarky at the stranger. "Might I recommend the baguette? It's fresh out of the oven."

The man nodded curtly as the lady picked the steaming bread from the basket display using a pair of tongs and placed it inside a brown paper bag.

"That'll be one twenty-five, sir."

The man made no move to shuffle in his pockets for money. In fact, he stayed still, stiff as a board, staring at the lady behind the counter who was getting rather irritated at his dawdling, probably keeping her from attending to the growing line of other customers waiting to get their breakfast. Perhaps, he didn't have money? Perhaps, just like your first few weeks out of your parents' house, he was struggling and he had no one else to depend on?

"I-I'll pay for it."

You didn't know what it really was that compelled you to say it - maybe it was that draft you were itching to get to, maybe you found empathy in his situation, whatever it was - at that time, you had no regrets. Seemingly surprised by the gesture, the man in the black coat, with his dishevelled hair and his pale countenance, stared at you intensely through those long eyelashes of his, and for a few moments, you held his gaze.

His eyes. They were a nice shade of ocean blue. They were the most beautiful pair of eyes you had ever seen.

You would later discover they could bleed to depthless black - ruthless, vindictive, inhuman.

The cashier handed you your change and your croissant, effectively breaking the spell the stranger beside you had on you. The cherry danish all but ignored, you flashed the man a small smile and headed out of the bakeshop, going about your merry way to the office with nothing but that article in mind.

And for the next two weeks, you had already put the rather bizarre incident (man) behind you, having been assigned to another place to visit and write about.

The man, however, never forgot.

The place you had been assigned to, called the New Inn, actually belonged to a professor in your university. You've had quite a lot of fun in his classes, so this was a gig you were pretty excited about.

It was a little over five in the afternoon when you stepped inside Professor Gadling's pub. He was already there in the corner booth, grading several essays. He put them aside as you arrived and asked a waiter to bring you both coffee. You were in the process of bringing out your digital recorder for the interview when you heard a voice so familiar it sent shivers down your spine.

"Hob."

Completely taken by surprise, you dropped the recorder to the floor, and it landed just a few inches from a pair of black boots. You tried to reach for it, but a pale, bony hand picked it up and wordlessly handed it to you. You looked up, only to get lost in a pair of ocean-blue eyes focused entirely on you.

It was the stranger from the bakeshop.

You took the recorder, muttering a flustered 'thank you,' before Professor Gadling greeted him like an old friend. He then introduced you to the stranger, who oddly enough just stared at you the entire time.

"She's interviewing me for the pub. I'll be featured in a magazine, can you believe it?" Professor Gadling said to the stranger who stepped inside the booth, intending to take the empty seat directly across from you. Turning to you, he stated, "This is my friend -"

"You may call me Morpheus." The man interrupted, a ghost of a smile visible on his usually blank features. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you."

It was unnerving the way he held your gaze without blinking, but perhaps it was just your imagination - after all, you hadn't had anything to eat since that leftover Chinese noodles this morning.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” was all you could come up with.

You were grateful when the waiter arrived with two cups of coffee and a dessert platter, and the interview with the professor went well and without interruptions. You both had so much fun, you ended up having dinner and drinks at the pub, and while it struck you odd that your third, silent companion did not partake in any single morsel of the food, by the time the evening ended at half-past ten, you had enough material for your article and were in great spirits. You thanked him for being such a gracious host and politely bid your farewell, as you were anxious to get a headstart on the draft.

The three of you simultaneously got to your feet - Professor Gadling to walk you outside, and the odd man named Morpheus trailing behind.

"Do come by again, my dear, and good luck with the article. I know you'd do a fantastic job." The professor said as he waved farewell outside the pub. He turned to Morpheus, who stood just a few feet away, watching the interaction, and gestured to him inside - presumably for them to continue their conversation - but as soon as you waved goodbye, he made a beeline for you, stopping just a few inches away and towering over you.

Too close, you thought. Wait, were his eyes twinkling? It must’ve been the streetlamp, the lights outside were pretty dim.

"I would like to accompany you on your walk home."

His words threw you off because they were so unexpected. He had no reason to do so, after all. Shyly, you beamed at him and replied, "I'd appreciate it, Morpheus, but I wouldn't like to impose...weren't you meeting with the professor?"

Professor Gadling, who apparently was in earshot of your conversation, waved you away.

"No, it's fine, dear. Besides, a young lady such as yourself shouldn't be walking alone at night. I'll see you some other time, my friend," he added, winking at Morpheus, who just tilted his chin in reply.

The professor had a point. You lived nearby, that was true, but the streets weren't safe on a Friday night, especially at this hour. You chewed on the insides of your cheek, nervous at the fact that you have not had anyone walk you home in a long while.

It's just a walk home. It couldn't be that bad, could it?

"Okay."

You would come to regret your response.

***

Inwardly, Morpheus rejoiced at the thought of you lowering your guard with him. He motioned with a hand to let you lead the way, not that he needed it - in two weeks after your fateful encounter at the bakeshop he had gotten to know every little detail he needed to know about you, including where you lived, of course. He had seen the little apartment himself when you were out at work, and while it irked him that you had to live in such a humble abode, he knew through your dreams that you had filled the apartment with love and considered it your sanctuary. It wouldn't matter once he took you home to his kingdom as his lover - for you, he'd craft an entire palace carved in precious stones in the blink of an eye, and it would be your sanctuary, just as much as this tiny home.

He did a fine job, too, of luring you into the place his centuries-old friend now owned. It took him only one dream, planted during your boss’s deepest slumber, for you to get sent right where Morpheus wanted you to be. All this planning and you were right there, with him, just as the fates would have it.

He had to ask you tonight. He has waited long enough.

***

You were just a few blocks away from your apartment building when you finally gained the courage to break the awkward silence between you two.

"Thank you for walking me home," you said quietly as you eyed him sideways. Your eyes widened at the sight that greeted you: he had a genuine, warm smile on his face you'd never seen on him before, and if his demeanour is anything to go by, you knew this was a rarity.

He looked like a prince, even with his hair sticking out in all directions.

"It is I who should be thanking you for your kindness to me at that establishment," he spoke with conviction. "I have not forgotten."

Surprised, but overall glad that he remembered, you matched his expression as best you can and replied, "You're welcome."

Nothing was ever exchanged until you reached your apartment door, but he seemed to draw closer to you, your shoulders almost touching.

Your hand was already at the keys to the doorknob when you asked him if he wanted to come in.

"For tea, perhaps?" You added. "I couldn't help but notice you didn’t eat at dinner, so…”

It was a last-minute decision, seeing as he was kind enough to ensure you got home safely. He could do with a few biscuits, too, in your opinion, judging by his pallor and his refusal to eat anything at the pub.

There it was again - that captivating smile, but behind it, you see a flash of something else entirely. It was gone even before you could fully take it in, so you shrugged inwardly. The hallway’s lighting has always been too dark to see a damn thing.

“You need not concern yourself over me, I am much stronger than I look,” he said in a light, teasing tone. “However, your effort would be appreciated.”

“Oh, it’s no problem!” You waved him off and pushed the door open to your home. “I just hope you don’t mind tea without milk, I haven’t done any grocery shopping yet…”

Morpheus followed you inside, closing the door behind him, as you went off to your room to drop your bag on the bed and set up your laptop on your work desk. As soon as you got out of your room, you found him with his back to you, rummaging through the copies of the magazine you wrote for.

“Nothing interesting in those, I’m afraid. Still, not bad for a would-be writer, don’t you think?”

Chuckling to yourself, you made your way to the tiny kitchen to put the electric kettle to boil, then rummaged through the cupboards for a mug you were saving for when you had guests over. Not that you’ve ever had any - so far, he was the first you’ve had since you moved in.

“‘A would-be writer?’”

The proximity of his voice startled you, seeing as you thought he had still been reading back in the living room. It’s admittedly only a few steps away, but you hadn’t heard him approach. He was at the kitchen doorway, casting a long shadow in the dimly lit space. You had forgotten to turn the lights on, but it didn’t seem to bother him.

“You give yourself very little credit for such riveting work,” he said as he closed the distance between you. The kettle had just turned off by itself, so you concentrated on pouring the boiling water on the mug and dropping a Ceylon tea bag inside. Leaning on the tiled counter, you watched the tea leaves bleed into the water, turning it to a lovely amber colour.

“I don’t know about that -”

Your sentence was cut short as you felt his fingertips subtly stroke your elbow, giving you goosebumps all over your arm.

He’d gotten so close…

Scooping up the mug with both hands, you turn around to hand him the mug, only to find yourself inches away from him you almost spill the hot liquid on his woollen coat.

“Your writing has soul. I should know: I have read every word you have ever written.”

Blinking up at him, you saw him dip his head closer to yours as his pale, warm hands enclosed around yours, still holding the tea.

You were trembling, it seemed, but he stilled it.

“Th-thank you," you whispered, unable to avert your gaze from those piercing blue eyes that seemed to pin you to place, as was his tall, imposing form enclosing you between him and the kitchen counter. He was so close you could feel the heat emanating from him. "That means so much to me.”

Or was it the heat from your cheeks you felt?

Seemingly oblivious to your increasingly flustered state, Morpheus made a deliberate move to extricate the cup of tea from your grasp so he could set it back down behind you (it was probably already over-brewed, you thought), while you try to compose yourself and ignore his fingers softly grazing your knuckles. You didn't have much time, however, because the next thing you knew was those same hands cupping your cheeks and his soft lips brushing over yours in a chaste kiss that stole your breath completely.

You felt him release his hold on you, perhaps to observe your reaction. Perhaps, you could’ve pushed him away right there and then; screamed at him for touching you and thrown him out of your home; but you couldn’t summon your limbs to respond. He took your momentary lapse of judgement to crash his lips on yours once more - it was a more heated, more insistent kiss, and as if to seal you to him, his hands travelled to your back to encase you in an embrace and pushed you further into the counter.

This was wrong.

It was all your instincts could tell you. So you heeded them and pushed against the lapel of his coat with all your strength. It was like pushing against a wall, but you managed to wriggle free from his grasp, so you made an effort to put as much distance between you and him as your tiny kitchen would allow. You glanced immediately at his face to gauge his expression, and to your utter shock, his eyes had gone entirely black. One blink, and it was blue once more, maybe even a tad regretful.

It’s the lighting in this damn kitchen, you assured yourself.

“I understand I may have been too forward,” he began, “But I assure you, my intentions are pure. I have waited for this since our fateful meeting.” He took slow steps towards you, and unconsciously you backed away until your back hit the fridge. There was nowhere else to back into. He halted as soon as he sensed your guard up.

“Morpheus, it was just a loaf of bread, really…”

Morpheus’s eyes softened visibly at your words and simply continued, “And by that selfless act, you have saved me in more ways than you could ever understand. I have held you in my heart since, my precious little saviour.”

“I-I'm sure it's nothing...” you stammered.

“Allow me the honour of courting you, and in turn, you shall know of my gratitude, and my love, until the end of my days.”

Your heart sank at his declaration. Somehow, you knew in your heart he meant every word he said. You couldn’t have this, not when everything in your life was just starting to fall into place. You put on the kindest smile you could muster and spoke slowly as you chose the right words, hoping he wouldn’t be too downcast with what you were about to say to him.

“I'm sure you're a wonderful man, Morpheus. I just…I don't think I can make that commitment right now. I mean, I just met you, and all I know about you is that you’re Professor Gadling’s friend.”

“That can be rectified.”

You let out a sigh. This was going to be difficult, but you really didn’t like the idea of egging him on. “I know that, but…I don’t think I have time for that, you know?”

“How so?” he asked in a low voice, tilting his head slightly.

“It's been a struggle just to get to where I am today… I have my work, which I love, and for the first time in my life, I feel like I'm doing something right and…one wrong move could make me lose my footing. I’m sorry.”

Morpheus seemed unconvinced, taking a few steps forward to close that gap between you. “You need not worry yourself over such trivial matters. I know what you dream of. I can give you the recognition you deserve, the stability you crave and more… Come with me and I can show you.”

He offered an outstretched hand, urging you to take it. But if you were being honest, you just wanted to crawl into bed, the draft be damned. Exhaustion was starting to creep up on you.

“‘Come with you…?’ I'm sorry, please don't take this the wrong way, I'm sure you mean well…but-but-th-this isn't really a good time for this…” you stammered as you crossed your arms to make a point, which you hoped he’d finally take. “I think I'd like to be alone now, please. I-I have that…thing I want to finish, and it's getting late…I’m sorry, Morpheus. I really am.”

Morpheus’s hand lowered steadily, but all the softness he had in his expression was gone without a trace, replaced with cold, hard eyes and furrowed brows. The warmth you have loved your apartment for all but disappeared, replaced with a clammy air that seemed to come from…from him.

“You have no idea what you've just turned away…nor who I am, and what I can do,” came Morpheus’s voice, lowered to an unrecognisable timbre. “I will give you this final chance to amend your answer, my little saviour.”

“E-excuse me?” you said, fighting the urge to run away from him and hide. This was your home, you had no reason to. Who the hell was he to threaten you in your own home? “I'd like you to leave, please, or I'm calling the police…”

He was only a few feet away from you now, and the wind somehow grew stronger, you could feel its rough caress on your skin.

Sand.

The light in your kitchen turned on without a warning, and your eyes widened at the sight of the man you had so carelessly allowed into your home:

A dangerous man - now a being transforming right before you - with chilling black eyes, a heavy flurry of sand circling him, and waves of black smoke emanating from his growing form…

Paralyzed in utter fear, your heart pounding in your ears, all you could do was hold on to the fridge as you watched him approach your cowering form on the floor. Gone was that princely face you shared a gentle kiss with, replaced by a bony, skeletal mask with hollow cheekbones, his mouth contorted in a snarl that revealed razor-sharp fangs.

His voice echoed as he spoke, raspy and deafening:

“I am quite disappointed in you, my precious saviour. No matter: I am not unmerciful.” A pale hand, now with blackened, sharpened nails, made an appearance before you. “Take my hand, my beloved, and I shall forgive your error.”

In your terrified state, all you could muster was an adamant shake of your head.

This can’t be real. It couldn’t be.

“I’m dreaming, I'm-I’m dreaming this, this can’t be real, you’re no-not real…” hunched on the floor, hugging your legs, you muttered to yourself.

“Very well,” he thundered. “You have made your choice. ”

You would later discover just how real dreams could be, and that they weren’t that much different from the nightmares.

***

Morpheus released a small sigh as he watched you in your spherical compartment, deep in troubled slumber. He had not meant to frighten you that much with his nightmarish form. Admittedly, he could’ve done a much better job with reeling himself in, but the pain of your rejection felt to him like a thousand daggers being plunged into his heart. All he wanted was for you to be happy with him. He could’ve given you everything he had seen you dream of - he still could, but not before he heard from your sweet lips an admittance of your guilt, and a vow never to spurn him again. 

He held the tiny sphere that contained your form in his palm and drew it closer to his face to get a better look at you. He had fashioned you a dress that brought out the colour of your eyes and soul: you looked ravishing, even in imprisonment. In his mind, he had played the memory of the kiss you had shared with him in your home a thousand times over. You were intoxicating, and the thought of kissing you again and finally marking your skin cemented his decision of keeping you in this space he crafted in his kingdom. You needed time to consider his proposal, that was to be expected. He would allow you the time you needed. All he had to do was assure you of your safety and well-being, seeing as scaring you even further might prolong his wait.

He knew you would wake soon, and he would explain his actions when you do. You would have no reason to refuse him, then.

***

You woke with a start, rubbing the sleep off your eyes, just to sit up and think.

You had lost count of the number of days you had spent in your glass enclosure, and there was nothing much to do except to observe your surroundings - nothing but a vast space, where distant stars glittered in the black tapestry that was space, with a single source of light in sight, like the sun, only that it offered no warmth. That, and to ruminate on the events that led you to this situation.

You remembered when you first came to, locked in this glorified cage. You still thought you were dreaming then, so you did everything you could to try waking yourself up, only none of it worked. That was when he appeared.

Dream of the Endless, he had called himself. The King of Dreams and Ruler of the Nightmare Realm.

He claimed to rule the place he had taken you to, which he called the Dreaming. He had then explained that everything humanity (‘your kind,’ you recalled him saying) had ever dreamed of in its sleep was as real as everything it sees, hears, and feels in its waking hours and that he presided over them since the first living creature dreamed, and will do so until the end of all life.

He had revealed that he had watched over you, your dreams and your waking hours, since your first meeting, and that he had not meant to scare you, only that he wished for you to accept his advances.

That was the first of his many attempts to get you to say ‘yes.’

He would ask in many ways: a long walk in this garden he called the Fiddler’s Green; a sumptuous dinner in one of his many grand halls; an adventurous tryst in one of the humans’ dreams. He had promised that if you agreed to be courted by him and be with him, he would take you out of your enclosure and release you, allow you to roam his kingdom as his lover, forever wanting nothing and lavishing in all the riches and trinkets he could offer.

From then, you knew you would never be allowed back into the life you had worked so hard to build, humble as it may have been.

At first, your response to his attempts of coaxing you into a relationship with him was a string of incoherent curses and screaming. After a while, they were plain ignored - his face would remain blank every time, if not a tad disappointed, or hurt.

You didn’t care.

But you were also lying if you said it hadn’t worn out your resolve. This day was one of them.

You missed food. Not that you were ever hungry - he had removed hunger from you in your imprisonment. He had given you the gift of dreamless sleep as well, but in your time alone with nothing to do except wake and sleep, you’d give almost anything to have dreams again. You had no other company except him and the vast, endless space beyond your cage that he had conjured for you. You being sealed away from everything was driving you closer to insanity every day, and that was his design: to make you desperate enough to submit to his will.

Without warning, your hair stood at the back of your neck, your senses on high alert.

Dream of the Endless had arrived.

“My precious little saviour,” he greeted in that deep, velvety voice you had grown to hate and find comfort in at the same time. “I have come for you.”

Your captor had a warm smile on his regal features, one that didn’t match his true intentions. You stared at him with a blank expression and let his greeting go unanswered.

“Will you join me for a walk in my garden?”

He kept his eye contact with you as he waited for your response. It unnerved you to no end, the way he held your gaze with those ocean-blue eyes of his, knowing a single ‘no’ from you would instantly turn it to the black ones you have known to fear. When you opened your mouth to speak, it actually hurt your throat - you hadn’t spoken in a long time.

“Will you be locking me up again, after?”

He grinned at you and tilted his head slightly. “If you behave and do as I say, I will not.”

Only a single tear that escaped from your eye betrayed that gnawing feeling of defeat in your gut. Finally swallowing whatever pride you had left, you made a decision.

“Yes.”

You should never have bought him that damned loaf of bread.

***

Just a little one-shot I wanted to write to get myself out of a writing rut I've been stuck with wanting Comatose to be perfect it stressed me out too much :// I will still work on it, I promise! I just need to get this out the way to get my writing mojo back :D

PART II here!!!!

Thank you for reading!!!! Please engage and all that it's really appreciate iiiit

***

[hwaflms]

wicked games! ★ [ l.jn ]

{💭} jeno : let’s play a game. you like games, right?

[☆] pairing. perv!jeno x f!reader, mentions of bf!chenle x gf!reader

[☆] genre. smut | dubcon + cheating au

[☆] wc. 4.1k

[☆] warnings. explicit content (mdni), heavy dubcon elements (don’t like it, don’t read.), infidelity, jeno is a perv, manhandling, voyeurism, dacryphilia, forced kissing, harddom!jeno, fingering, pussy slapping, dirty talk, degradation, oral (m. receiving), throat fucking, use of words like ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, slapping, lots of spit, hair pulling, forced submission, implied sex, implied breeding, i think that’s it but pls lmk if i forgot smth!

[☆] notes. i don’t condone any of this, if you don’t like it, just don’t read it! a little darker than my usual work, but happy (late) jeno day!! not super proofread but this was meant to be a drabble and i got a little carried away…but i’m also thinking of a part 2? idk ‼️ anyways pls don’t interact with my work unless ur 18+ thank u!!!

from the second your closed fist meets the door, you know this was a mistake.

this is not to say that you thought it was a fantastic idea before, spending over an hour just tossing and turning in bed in utter turmoil over the thoughts in your head. turning over to your left, you were greeted with the sight of your boyfriend chenle, sleeping soundlessly with slightly parted lips, arm wrapped around an extra pillow tightly. he wears a plain, white shirt along with a pair of checkered boxers, an outfit he slipped on after getting out of the shower and into bed.

you don't know where it went sour. you don't know when watching a show and cuddling you to sleep became him sleeping right after his shower with an arm wrapped around a pillow. you don’t know when the last time he touched you was. and you don’t remember when you started noticing jeno.

and you’ve noticed the looks, too. he’s not particularly shy about it either, so it’s some kinda of a miracle that chenle hasn’t seen him yet. when chenle first introduced you to his friends, you immediately liked every one of them except jeno. you couldn’t explain it at all, he hadn’t done anything outright bad but something about him just didn’t sit right with you. maybe it was the lingering glances, the way he shamelessly checked you out, the cleverly hidden but distinctly predatory look in his eyes when he surveyed you, even in front of other people.

jeno was chenle’s roommate, which meant you were around him a lot. you didn’t mind at all, initially, even seeking him out at home to strike up a conversation, or offer him a bit of something you had just baked for chenle. it was when you started becoming aware of the looks, of how his hand lingered on the small of your back when passing you by in the kitchen, of how his eyes scanned your legs when you wore shorts. you think the final straw was when you accidentally walked in on him watching some pretty rough porn in his room, which you only entered to return a pair of socks that got mixed up with yours and chenle’s laundry. in your defense, the door was ajar while he knew you were home, but what really got to you was the fact that he never even paused the video or tried to hide the tent in his pants when you walked in, just nonchalantly thanking you for giving his socks back. you didn’t miss the way his eyes roamed the expanse of your body for a couple seconds before you left the room awkwardly, making sure to shut the door.

at first, you were uncomfortable. you debated telling chenle in your head numerous times, but your lack of concrete evidence made you think twice. was it fair to try and turn chenle against one of his best friend over a simple feeling you got? maybe not, you thought. but that feeling never went away. jeno made sure that it was persistent, made you feel like you needed to constantly look over your shoulder, until that uncomfortable feeling kind of morphed into a defeated one. you realised that at this stage, jeno wasn’t going to ever do anything. he had his chances too, so you figured that if he was ever planning to cross a line, he would have done it by now.

so you accepted that he was nothing more than a pervert and there was nothing you could do about it. that was up until a week or two ago, before you found yourself looking at jeno in a different light for the first time. it was no secret that your relationship with chenle was souring, diminishing before your eyes yet neither of you ever brought it up. instead you both sank into your miserable routine of tolerating each other, choosing to coexist peacefully instead of talking it out like you would have initially.

maybe you started hating chenle. maybe it was the empty space between your bodies, or how cold your hands felt nowadays that filled your heart with such bitterness, or maybe it was the fact that your body was throbbing, just aching and begging to be touched, that made you think all these thoughts that would have never crossed your mind before. like the animosity you felt towards chenle. and the curiosity you felt about jeno.

forcing yourself to tear your eyes away from chenle’s sleeping figure, you find yourself in front of jeno’s door, hand raised and closed in a fist like you had just knocked. your heart is pounding throughout your body, in disbelief over what you were doing. it takes him maybe ten seconds to open the door but it feels like an eternity, an undeniable feeling of dread pooling in your stomach over a situation you put yourself in. his eyebrow is raised when he opens it, one hand on his door handle and the other resting against its frame, towering over you in a way that already makes you feel small.

“can i help you?”

can he? you don’t answer, mouth opening in an attempt to speak but no sound leaves it. he inclines his head as if to urge you to say something, a bored expression on his face. jeno is attractive. you can’t even deny that. he wears a black tank top that stretches over his wide chest, a pair of loose sweatpants paired with it. the muscles of the arm holding on to the doorframe bulge, a gulp going down your throat as you look at it and look away.

he releases an annoyed sigh to snap you out of your thoughts, hand coming down to grip your forearm, all but yanking you into his room. you don’t even have time to react, already shoved near his bed when he turns around, arms crossed as he stands in front of the door in a way that could block your exit. you should have known he wasn’t going to pass up a moment with you alone.

but still, you try and explain the situation away. “t-the wi-fi password…”, you explain with a nervous chuckle, feigning indifference as you remain near his bed, a good amount of distance between your bodies. “i need the um, wi-fi password.”

you don’t even have your phone. the realisation hits the both of you at the same time, your mouth falling open a little while he looks incredulous, a disbelieving smirk on his lips. “the wi-fi password. you didn’t already have it?”, he counters, taking a step towards you. “from all the times you been in this house?”

you take a step back along with him, a blush coating your cheeks at how stupid he’s making you feel. “there must be something wrong with my p-phone”, you hate the way you stutter, wincing as you poorly argued back.

“you couldn’t ask chenle?”

“he’s asleep…”. it’s weak, but you have to try.

he finds this amusing apparently, because he repeats your statement after you, and your body freezes when she shuts his door. “he’s asleep…”

all you can offer him is a quick nod, but he sees right through you.

“you didn’t even bring your phone, doll”, he snickers, mockery just dripping from his tone and leaves you feeling vulnerable. “come on, cut the shit, what did you really want?”

at the present moment, you want nothing more than to leave, but your body is unmoving. “i…”, you start but you almost run out of breath when he takes a couple more firm steps in your direction. “what?”, he’s mocking you, and you feel that in order to be a comfortable distance away from him, you need to be sitting on his bed– a decision you immediately regret.

he’s in front of you in an instance, but makes no move to touch you. you’re face-to-face with his crotch from your position on the bed, and you have to look away to the side, heart pumping in your ears. “we both know why you’re really here, y/n.”

it’s a statement, but he looks like he’s expecting an answer, one that you can’t give him. you do look up at him though, and the look that crosses over his face makes your blood run cold. it’s all too intense for you, and you look back down, but what you see makes you blanch, not knowing which direction to look now. how is he so hard?

it should disgust you, the sight of his hand reaching down to grip his thick cock right in front of your face, but it doesn’t. your heart is still pounding as fast as ever, but your eyes flick back to his when he practically moans your name, leaning away from him a little. “at least pretend you’re not enjoying this”, he practically spits and it’s so demeaning, him looking at you like you’re the dirty one. you start to shake your head and he mockingly mimics you, scoffing when your eyes turn pleading.

much to your surprise, he takes a step, albeit small, away from you, arms folding across his chest again. your first instinct is to get up and just make a run for it, but your body is in no mood to comply. maybe it’s the fear, but a part of you think it’s from that funny feeling in your stomach, one that used to make you recoil but appears to not work now. you also don’t fully believe that he’ll just let you walk out now. it seems like he recognises this, speaking up when your eyes dart from the door to his body.

“stand up.”

your eyes glance between his like they’re searching for something behind the crazed look. your body follows that demand however, nervously picking yourself up from your safe spot on the bed. he motions with his finger for you to come closer, but when you hesitate, his hand closes around your neck faster than you can react. you’re now directly in front of his face, close enough to see every mole, every eyelash. when he reaches his arms out to you, you’re quick to move away but he’s even quicker, grabbing ahold of your waist tightly anyway, holding you in place.

noticing the tears pricking your eyes, jeno lips curve into a fake pout, leaning down to kiss at the corners of your eyes. “i bet you look so pretty when you cry.”

of course this is what was always going to happen, of course. but you knew that. why else did you come here? the countless number of nights you lay awake next to chenle, just wishing he would touch you like he used to instead of falling asleep silently. that unnerving feeling jeno always used to give you, like he was just waiting patiently for his chance to strike. this was an ugly situation that you had gotten yourself into knowingly, and jeno looked like he was getting bored of giving you chances.

with the knowledge that he was finally alone with you away from prying eyes, he smashes his lips on to yours, not stopping even when you cry out weakly against his lips, caging you in with his body as you try and fail to push him away.

you do this because it hits you that you are actively cheating on your boyfriend, even though you didn’t exactly initiate it. with the situation looking as compromising as it does, your mind gets cloudy as you try to think of how you could appear completely faultless. jeno is relentless still, using every gasp and whimper as an opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth, knowing he’s won when he finally feels your arms relax a little against his chest.

when he pinches the skin of your ass tightly between his fingers as a kind of warning, you kiss him back somewhat reluctantly, but no one asks you to slip your tongue over his. he groans into your mouth when he feels your fingers digging into the bare skin of his arm, the hand that wasn’t holding you in place coming up to roughly grope one of your breasts. this makes you cry out feebly into the kiss, arching a little into his touch against your will when he slips the hand under your (technically, chenle’s) shirt to continue his ministrations.

the thought of chenle makes your eyes snap open immediately, freeing yourself of the heated kiss now that your head wasn’t being held in place. this is wrong. it’s like you have now come to your senses, but the look of determination in jeno’s eyes tells you that you’ve come to that realisation much too late. “jeno, we- i can’t, chenle-”

it’s clear that he doesn’t appreciate you breaking the kiss, pinching your nipple harshly before removing his hand from under your shirt to instead grip your jaw tightly. “oh, now you wanna think about chenle?”, he seethes, forcing your face in front of his, tongue darting out of his mouth to lick at your bottom lip. “when you came in here this late at night, practically begging me to fuck you?”

he’s sick, he’s twisted, you think, because you were certainly not begging him to fuck you, but you can’t deny that you came here searching for some kind of trouble. and now you got it.

this feels like it’s some kind of dream, though nightmare would be more fitting, one of those paralysing dreams where it takes immense effort to control your body.

you shake your head ‘no’ and jeno tuts in faux sympathy, an action that you hate to admit causes some heat to pool in your stomach. “let’s play a game. you like games, right?”

you’re sure you don’t want to play whatever game he has in mind, but you understand that he’s specking rhetorically, your opinion on the matter has no place in this world. “if i put my hand in your panties, and they’re in perfect condition, you can leave and forget this even happened”, he quips like you’re ever going to be able to forget this, smiling at you with no light in his eyes. “but…”

you were expecting the ‘but’ yet it still gives you chills, standing frozen in place when he runs his hand up and down your front lightly.

“if i find that someone’s ruined her panties for me…”, he trails off, stopping his hand at the waistband of your shorts, smirking when he feels your body tense. the heat of your body is basically radiating off you, and you know there’s no stopping him now when he looks up at you with a knowing smile. “i think i know what i’m gonna find.”

the next thing you know, you’re crying out against his chest, his arms holding your slackening body up as his fingers slip in and out of you easily. you knew you had lost this battle from the moment you knocked on his door, and jeno basks in his victory when he feels you clench around his fingers, licking and biting his away around your neck. “no marks, jeno, please”, you plead with him, eyes widening in fear at the thought of chenle seeing the evidence of your pathetic behaviour. “shut up and take what i’m giving you”, is the clear answer you receive along with a sharp slap to your exposed ass, your pants and underwear long gone as jeno works his fingers in you.

he bunches your shirt up above your breasts, releasing a whistle when he sees that you aren’t wearing a bra. “you were just waiting for me, weren’t you, you fucking whore”, jeno growls, and you think he’s truly deluded himself into believing everything he says, and it’s starting to seep on to you. your body jolts when he slaps your bare cunt three times in a row, like he’s punishing you for making him do this. “coming here with no bra on, just so fucking tight and ready to take me.”

he’s talking to himself at this point, because none of the sounds coming out of your mouth are coherent. jeno’s hand is forceful and quick, lips attached to your nipple and drilling two fingers into you at an angle that has you dropping your head into the crook of his neck to muffle the sinful noises you’re releasing. he sucks harshly at your nipple, letting his teeth graze against the sensitive tip, and you’re in tears, the sensation proving to be too much.

he’s pulling his fingers out of you and forcing you to your knees in a flash, but you’re just happy to be relieved of the torture administered to you by his hands and mouth, that made you cry out into his shoulder out of pain and pleasure. your joy is short lived however, when your eyes shoot open at the sensation of something warm and hard tapping against your cheek. and there it is, jeno’s impossibly hard cock mere centimetres away from your lips. “just made for sucking cock”, he notes, slapping his leaking dick against your teary face in a degrading manner.

he’s smoothing a hand down your head of hair, the action so heavily contradictory to his otherwise rough manhandling. “you’re gonna take me so well, aren’t you, baby?”. you think this scares you even more, because you have no idea what to expect, but he proves to be himself when he grips a handful of hair in each hand, using them like handlebars. when you let out a surprised yelp at the acute ache that results from him pulling on your hair with force, he enters your mouth fully, pulling back out when you gag. his eyes marvel at the string of saliva connecting the tip of his dick to your lips, rubbing the tears that slip from your eyes around your face with his leaking cock. “my dirty fucking cockslut, i knew you’d be like this.”

you’ve never felt dirtier, yet you can’t explain why you’re wet enough to feel the cold breeze that enters from jeno’s open window against your pussy, making you clench around nothing. gagging around his shaft for the third time because of how deep he sinks his cock down your throat, you bring a hand up to wrap around his base so as to try and control the pace of his motions. “there we go”, he hisses at the feeling of your hand wrapped around him and allows you to pump him a couple times, slipping only the tip of his dick in and out past your lips.

you keep up this pace, swirling your tongue around the tip and jerking off what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. though he lets you take charge for a short amount of time, he grows bored of your pace, opting to thrust his cock into your mouth, chuckling at your wide eyes. “i’m gonna fuck your mouth, and you’re gonna take it”, he chides, slapping your cheek once making you whine around his dick, tears mixing in with the spit and cum coating your face. “so, tell me baby, chenle doesn’t fuck you good enough?”

if he’s actually expecting an answer, you can’t give him one, mouth so full of cock that your jaw hurts, trying your best to breathe through your nose. feigning boredom, he slips out of your mouth with a sound of annoyance for a moment, and sighs in disbelief when you unknowingly chase after if with you mouth, leaning down to grip your cheeks and squeeze them together.

“i used to listen to you getting fucked by him at night. but i haven’t heard you moan in ages, pretty”, your cheeks are squished together and you feel stupid, jeno’s gaze piercing. “always knew i could make better use of you. isn’t that right?”

you sniffle, attempting to clear your throat and blink, vision blurred by tears. he thinks he’s funny when he uses his grip on your jaw to move your head up and down like you’re nodding, but your body feels so fucked out that your head keeps going when he lets go, a shocked kind of laugh escaping his lips. “fuck…you really are a slut. do you ever think about anything that isn’t cock?”

more tears leak from your watery eyes when his degrading words do nothing but send shivers straight to your core, mouth falling open when he presses his tip against your puffy lips again. he moans uncharacteristically at the feeling and sight of his cock in your mouth, fucking into your mouth and treating it like your pussy. your throat grows tired of swallowing around it but he looks drunk off the sensation, so you lay your tongue flat against the underside of his hard cock and let him rut against it.

he’s absolutely brutal and relentless with his tempo, but nothing shocks you nor makes your pussy throb as much than when he leans down and squishes your cheeks together again, letting spit dribble from his mouth and fall where his cock and your mouth meet. everything about the action is filthy, but you’re wetter than you’ve ever been before, hollowing your cheeks as his thrusts become more erratic.

you know jeno’s close when he starts muttering profanities under his breath, the hands gripping your hair controlling your movements and forcing your head to bob up and down on his cock. “dirty little bitch”, he starts off breathlessly, seeing the drool running off your chin bringing him so close to the edge. “sucking my cock while nothing but a wall separates your boyfriend from us.”

your knees hurt and his words sting, but he pulls out, quickly wrapping his hand around his cock and jerking it off right over your face. your mouth is still open and you’re sure you look insanely vulgar but it only encourages jeno, tapping his cock against your tongue repeatedly. “tell me”, he demands, spitting into his hand so he can spread the substance around your lips as you try and evade it. “tell me how much you love my cock.”

you’re repeating after him like a broken record, and broken you are, so fucked out and cock drunk that you need him to do your talking for you. “love your cock- need you-”, you’re babbling but he accepts it, groaning when he works his hand around himself while hovering over your mouth, finally thrusting it back between your lips. the way you readily go back to sucking him off makes his cock twitch, and within seconds, he’s spilling his seed down your throat.

as his dick softens, he slips it out of your mouth and for the umpteenth time, forces your lips open with his hand. he spits into your mouth, but you aren’t even surprised anymore, accepting it with hooded eyes. “swallow”, he orders you and you comply, sticking your tongue out to show him how well you’ve done. “that’s a good whore.”

you were maybe even about to reply when you both hear the unmistakeable sound of a toilet flushing, and your heart sinks– chenle is awake. you’re quick to attempt to scramble to your feet, but your legs have fallen asleep from being in that position for so long that they almost give out, not that it matters anyway; jeno has no intentions of letting you stand up. his hand is back in your hair again, making you hiss out of pain and doing a good job of holding you down, but you turn to look at him desperately, trying in vain to shake your head free. “please jeno- chenle can’t see, please-”

you’re a blubbering mess but jeno doesn’t care, simply wiping your tears from your face and cooing softly and before you know it, that unsettling feeling returns, your ears thudding with the sound of your heart. “chenle’s gonna see, baby”, he agrees in a sympathetic tone, thought nothing about him is soft or caring. “chenle’s gonna see his girlfriend getting stuffed full of his best friend’s cum, and he’s gonna see her enjoying it.”

[lizardkingeliot]

whyyyy do i feel like i would be ~cheating~ on quentin and eliot if i decided i wanted to write fic for another pairing from another fandom... someone plsssss tell my brain to stop being so silly 💀

[bravenot]

I had a really vivid dream last night (obvious wish fulfilment) where veth and caleb were dramatically saying they loved one another and then it transitioned into an animated musical number at a castle where caleb was some form of nobility, and veth was an important member of his court (he’d chosen her because of their close friendship and her skills) and she was singing and flirting with everyone during this song. And then he kissed her on the head I think. The animation was very 3D disney-esque but it filled me with such good loving feelings.

Anyway I clearly still miss the mighty nein and I even miss pining for caleb/veth crumbs every episode. Every one of their interactions are so special to me.

[focusonkayjay]

right here, yet so far away | oneshot

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: exes to lovers, ceo! jungkook x kindergarten teacher! reader, angst, smut, fluff

Word Count: 19.4k (my hands slipped girl)

Chapter Warnings: mature language, unprotected sex (pls be safe), oral (f. receiving), mentions of an accident, coma, violence (lmk if i missed anything)

A/N: hello cuties. this is a special post in honor of me hitting 300 followers. i cant believe the immense support i have received when it's only been a week. thank you so much for consuming my work and supporting me. also please note, the text in italics are for dream sequences or flashbacks. P.S i know people don't just instantly recover after a long coma, but in this story it's just heavy plot armor, so kindly understand.

//

“But baby… please just…” Jungkook’s voice cracks as he jogs to catch up, his hand reaching out for yours. You swat it away without hesitation, the sting of rejection hitting him harder than any words ever could.

“Jungkook, stop it.” you say firmly, your tone sharp enough to cut through his soul. He freezes, his wide eyes searching yours for answers.

“But baby, just tell me why? We were doing so good… just yesterday, you... you said you loved me. Please, you can’t just... leave like this.”

He tries to observe your expression, hoping to convince himself that this is just some cruel joke. But there’s no softness in your eyes, no flicker of doubt. Only a cold, unyielding resolve.

“Don’t you understand?” you scoff, folding your arms tightly across your chest. “I’m tired of you, Jungkook. I’m tired of us.” His breath hitches, disbelief flashing across his face. “Stop. Don’t say that. You don’t… you don’t mean that.”

“I do.” you insist, each word a dagger to his heart. “I mean every word of it. I’m done with you. This whole relationship… it’s not going anywhere. It’s a waste of time, and I just… I can’t, Jungkook. We have to break up.”

His shoulders slump, and his chest rises and falls as though the air has been knocked out of him. He stands frozen, staring at you, desperate to find some hint of hesitation in your expression. But all he sees is resolve… or at least, what you’re determined to show him.

“Why?” he whispers, his voice barely audible.

You stare at him blankly. "Because I don’t love you anymore.” you reply, your voice unwavering. Jungkook flinches as if struck. His lips part, but no words come out. And when you turn around and walk away, the sound of your retreating footsteps echoes in his ears, louder than any goodbye, as your body disappears into the darkness.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

The shrill wail of the alarm slices through the silence, and Jungkook's eyes harshly open. He gasps for air, his chest heaving as the nightmare clings to him like a second skin.

It’s always the same nightmare. The same scene. The same words. The same look on your face. The same crushing weight in his chest.

He drags a hand down his face, the coolness of his palm doing little to soothe him. His dark hair sticks to his forehead, damp with sweat, and he blinks up at the ceiling fan spinning lazily above him.

For a moment, he just sits there, the silence of his apartment wrapping around him like a cold blanket. A single tear trickles down his temple as images of you flash in his mind, one after the other. His phone buzzes on the nightstand... a reminder of the meetings and deadlines awaiting him, but he doesn’t move.

Four months. It’s been four months since you walked away, and he still doesn’t understand why.

He remembers the day of the break up like it was yesterday. The scene is so vividly planted in his mind that he even sees it in his sleep. He can’t get rid of the way you looked at him… like you despised the sight of him, like you truly didn’t love him anymore.

He still doesn’t have his answers. Why did you leave so suddenly? Why did your heart just decide it didn’t want him anymore? The questions linger in his mind, unanswered, gnawing at him like a constant ache he can’t escape.

Jungkook remains rooted on his mattress, the weight of memories pressing down on him as he recalls the first time he saw you. It was over two years ago, but when he recollects it, it feels so vivid, like it's happening in the present.

He had been reluctant to attend an event that was scheduled at a local kindergarten nearby. Exhausted from a long flight back from the States, he’d tried to get out of it. But his assistant, understanding the importance of his role as the CEO, insisted that he'd attend it regardless.

His company wasn’t just about selling food products, it was dedicated to promoting healthy living, especially for children. They organized events to educate kids on the importance of good nutrition, partnered with schools to provide nutritious meals, and created fun, interactive programs to get children excited about eating right.

Though Jungkook wasn’t keen on spending his afternoon with a room full of energetic kids, he went anyway. The workshop had already started and the moment he stepped into the classroom, ready to grab the attention of the kids, he suddenly spotted you.

You were standing at the front of the room, a soft smile on your face as you engaged with the children, laughing with them and cracking jokes. Your energy was infectious, and the way you moved with such ease around the kids made his heart skip a beat. There was something so warm and genuine about you, something that immediately drew him in.

It wasn’t just the way you looked... though you were undeniably beautiful, but how you carried yourself, the kindness that radiated from you, and how at home you seemed in this world of tiny hands and laughter. Jungkook had never been the type to believe in love at first sight, but the moment his eyes landed on you, something inside him shifted.

He had been smitten, captivated in a way he couldn’t explain. His thoughts had scattered as he watched you, his mind far from the speech he was supposed to be giving. It was almost embarrassing how quickly you had captured his attention, and yet he couldn’t look away.

It wasn’t until later, when he was preparing to leave, that he finally found the courage to approach you. He had been nervous, unsure of what to say. But the moment you looked at him, a simple greeting from you was all it took.

Your smile was enough to melt any lingering doubt he had. He introduced himself, his voice slightly shaky but confident enough to make a lasting impression. And you, with that same gentle smile, responded in kind words, immediately making him feel at ease.

He had no idea at that moment that this chance encounter would change his life in the best way possible.

Now, laying in his bed, Jungkook smiles bitterly, remembering how it all started. How he had the most beautiful relationship with you for around a year and three months. How one decision, one visit to that kindergarten, led to everything he lost.

He still can't understand why you left him the way you did, without explanation, without any chance for him to fix whatever went wrong. The image of your face that day... the coldness, the finality, haunts him still.

Despite the whirlwind of thoughts clouding his mind, Jungkook forces himself to push them aside. He stares at the ceiling for a moment longer, allowing the weight of the memories to settle, before finally making the decision to get up.

He knows he can’t linger in this state forever. The day is waiting for him, and he can’t afford to let his emotions hold him back. With a sigh, he swings his legs off the bed and plants his feet firmly on the floor. The familiar coldness of the hardwood beneath his feet is grounding, and for a brief moment, he feels a sense of control over the chaos in his mind.

The early morning light filters through the blinds, casting a soft glow on his room. He moves to the bathroom, running cold water over his face, hoping it will somehow shake the fog from his thoughts. It’s a futile attempt, but it’s enough to snap him into the present, if only for a few minutes.

Jungkook stares at his reflection in the mirror, taking a deep breath. His mind is still heavy, but he’s learned over the years to compartmentalize, especially when it comes to work. He’s the CEO and his company can’t afford to be distracted by his personal life. No matter how much his heart aches, there’s a bigger picture to focus on.

//

You glance at the kids, focused on their coloring books, and a soft smile tugs at your lips. They’re adorable, each one lost in their own little world, their tiny hands gripping crayons as they carefully add color to their drawings. You walk around the room, quietly observing their work, admiring the little bursts of creativity.

As you pass by the window, your gaze drifts outside, where a few children are running and playing on the soccer field. You let out a sigh, your fingers subconsciously tracing the pendant of your necklace.

It’s the only thing that connects you to him, to the one that got away, to the one you let slip right through your fingers, even when it hurt to do so. You close your eyes for a brief moment, and his image floods your mind. The way his eyes sparkled when he smiled, the warmth of his touch, the comfort of his presence.

You miss him so badly, your chest tightening with the weight of it. But you push the feeling down, swallowing the ache in your heart. You remind yourself why it had to end, why you had to walk away. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

As you stare at the bleachers stand by the green field, a vivid and unpleasant memory creeps up your mind.

"Break up with him."

Junghyun's voice was calm, his eyes fixed on the empty soccer field ahead. The chilly evening breeze brushed past your hair, but it did little to cool the heat rising in your chest. You turned to look at him, disbelief written all over your face.

"What?" you asked, your voice carrying a mix of confusion and irritation. Junghyun was Jungkook's older brother, and his unexpected visit had left you completely on edge.

You had only met this man once before, a fleeting encounter when you accidentally bumped into him outside Jungkook’s apartment one morning. Seeing him now, unannounced at your workplace, caught you completely off guard.

"Break up with him, Y/N." he repeated, turning to face you this time. His gaze was piercing, his tone unyielding. "You know you two belong to completely separate worlds. Jungkook isn’t in love... he’s just infatuated. And frankly..." he continued, his voice dropping with disdain. "You’re nothing but a distraction."

You stared at him, your mind reeling from the audacity of his words. The traffic noise in the far distance felt like static compared to the ringing in your ears. "Are you serious right now?" you managed to say, your tone sharper than you intended.

Junghyun didn’t flinch. "I’m completely serious. Do you think this little fling of yours will lead to anything? Jungkook has responsibilities... he has a company to run, a legacy to uphold. You’re a kindergarten teacher, Y/n. A sweet girl, sure, but not someone who can keep up with him."

His words stung, but you refused to show it. "Jungkook loves me." you stated firmly, your voice unwavering. "I know how he feels about me. So whatever you’re trying to pull, it won’t work."

Junghyun scoffed, shaking his head. "Love? You call this love? He’s smitten, sure, but that doesn’t mean it’ll last. You’ll only hold him back."

You clenched your fists, your chest tightening with frustration. Every instinct in you wanted to yell at him, to tell him how wrong he was, how little he knew about what you and Jungkook shared.

You breathed heavily, your eyes narrowing as they locked onto him. "I'm going to pretend we never had this conversation." you said, your voice steady despite the turmoil bubbling inside. Without waiting for a response, you turned on your heel, stepping off the bleacher stands and ready to head back inside.

“Hanyung Hospital.” Junghyun’s voice suddenly rang out, stopping you dead in your tracks. Your breath hitched, and your eyebrows furrowed as your back remained turned to him. A wave of unease settled over you, his words striking a chord you wished he hadn’t found.

“Isn’t that where your brother is admitted?” His tone was sharp, laced with a smirk you didn’t need to see to recognize.

Slowly, you turned to face him, your heart racing as panic flashed across your features. Had this man done a background check on you? Your mind reeled at the thought, fear and anger coursing through you in equal measure.

Junghyun’s smirk deepened as he saw the panic etched on your face. “Guess I know a little too much about you, sweetheart.” he said smoothly, his words dripping with a smug satisfaction.

Your fists clenched at your sides, but your voice caught in your throat. The realization that he had gone to such lengths made your skin crawl, and a sense of dread settled in your stomach.

"See, this is the problem with you lowlifes..." Junghyun sneered, his voice dripping with disrespect. "You have so many weaknesses, yet you never stop dreaming big." He let out a cruel laugh, his eyes glinting with amusement at your stunned silence.

You stared at him, your throat tightening as if the words you wanted to say were caught in a vice. "I heard he’s been in a coma for four years." he continued, his tone casual, almost mocking.

Your eyes stung with unshed tears, the weight of his words pressing down on your chest. The mention of your brother... the very core of your vulnerability, felt like a dagger twisting in your heart.

“Maybe I should make sure this coma lasts forever—”

"What?" The word burst out of you before he could finish. Panic surged through you, visible in the way your breathing quickened. Junghyun’s smirk widened, his eyes lighting up with satisfaction at your reaction. He relished the fear and desperation etched across your face, feeding off the control he had over the situation.

"Leave my brother out of this." you managed to say, your voice low but firm, fists clenched tightly at your sides. "This has nothing to do with him."

You forced yourself to regulate your breathing, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions that were threatening to spill over. But deep down, you knew exactly what this man was doing. And it felt like a threat too enormous to escape.

Junghyun’s smirk only deepened, his silence more unsettling than words. It was as though he reveled in watching you squirm under the weight of his insinuations.

Your mind raced, every possible scenario flashing before you. The influence Jungkook’s family wielded wasn’t just intimidating, it was terrifying. They were rich, powerful, and connected in ways you could only imagine.

For all you knew, they could probably make someone disappear without a trace. And standing face-to-face with Junghyun, you started to think that was your chilling reality.

You swallowed hard, meeting his gaze with as much resolve as you could muster, but the unease in your chest lingered. You felt trapped, cornered by an enemy who knew just where to strike to hurt you the most.

"Well, sweetheart, I want to leave him out of this too..." Junghyun sighed, his tone mockingly sympathetic. "And you know exactly what you need to do for that to happen."

His words struck like a hammer, each syllable weighing heavier than the last. You felt your whole world collapsing around you, the walls closing in with no way out. You felt suffocated. Cornered. Powerless.

Your gaze dropped to your feet, tears pooling in your eyes despite your desperate attempts to hold them back. The fight within you slowly crumbled, leaving only the unbearable weight of his ultimatum.

You clenched your fists, your nails digging into your palms as you fought to keep yourself composed.

"I'll break up with him." you whispered finally, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. A tear slipped down your cheek, the first crack in the dam as the reality of your surrender settled in.

Junghyun stepped down from the bleacher stands, his slow footsteps growing louder in your ears. You didn’t move, your feet rooted to the ground as if the weight of your decision had physically anchored you.

He stopped in front of you, and you felt his presence, his amusement radiating like poison. A soft laugh escaped him, sending shivers down your spine.

"Now that was easy, wasn’t it?" he mocked, patting your head like you were a child who had just followed orders. Your jaw tightened, teeth gritting at the humiliating gesture, but you remained silent.

"And this goes without saying, but... Jungkook should never hear about this encounter." Junghyun said, his voice low and taunting as he stepped closer.

You didn’t respond, your throat too tight and your mind too fogged with fear and anger to formulate a reply.

He smirked at your silence before brushing past you, deliberately bumping into your shoulder as if to remind you just how insignificant he believed you to be. The force was slight, but it felt heavier, laden with the weight of everything he’d taken away from you in the matter of mere minutes.

The chilly breeze cut through the quiet, and you felt it settle deep into your bones, a reminder of just how cold the world could be.

"Miss Choi!" a little voice pierces through the haze of your flashback, pulling you back to reality. Your eyes shift from the bleacher stands outside to the source of the voice. A little girl waves her broken color pencil in the air, her tiny face scrunched in distress.

You force a smile, the corners of your lips lifting as you walk towards her. "Give me that, let me sharpen it for you, Sera." you say softly, patting her head. She nods cutely, her eyes wide with trust and gratitude.

You exhale deeply, the weight in your chest still pressing down as you make your way to the trash can. As the sharpener scrapes against the pencil, you think to yourself. Stop dwelling on the past.

You knew how deeply you felt for Jungkook. He was more than just a fleeting love... he was a part of you, your safe place. But the weight of Junghyun's threat had been too much to bear. It wasn’t a fight you could win, not against soemone as powerful as him.

The memory of that day gnaws at you, the helplessness, the bitterness of making a decision you despised with every fiber of your being. But what choice did you have?

Handing the pencil back to Sera, you muster another soft smile. Her joyful expression tugs at your heart, a stark contrast to the storm inside you.

All you can do now is hope that Jungkook is living a happy life, far from the shadows of the truth that forced you apart.

//

Jungkook adjusts his position in the sleek leather chair, trying to focus on the ongoing meeting. The conference room hums with the low murmur of voices as his team discusses the logistics of their next community outreach initiative.

The large screen at the front displays a vibrant presentation, but his mind drifts, struggling to stay anchored in the moment.

“Mr. Jeon.” Eunwoo, the Chief Operating Officer, speaks up, pulling him back to reality. “We’re finalizing the details for the event at the Sunflower Orphanage this weekend.” he says, his tone calm but purposeful.

“It’s part of our ‘Healthy Futures’ program.” Eunwoo continues, “Where we teach the kids about nutrition and provide them with tools to build healthier habits.”

Jungkook nods, his jaw tightening slightly. He taps his pen against the notepad in front of him, the blank page mirroring his lack of focus. “Good. Ensure we send enough materials for the interactive sessions. I’ll review the activity plans later today.”

Eunwoo presses on. “We’re also organizing a cooking demonstration for the older kids and distributing care packages with nutritious snacks and recipe guides. It might be a good idea for you to attend. I think the kids would really enjoy meeting you.”

Jungkook exhales softly, running a hand through his hair. Public appearances at these events are part of his responsibility, something he takes seriously. Yet, the thought of being surrounded by bright-eyed children feels heavier than usual, a strange weight pressing against his chest.

“I’ll check my schedule.” he replies, his tone measured, masking the unease he can’t quite shake.

As the meeting concludes, Jungkook steps out of the conference room, loosening his tie as he makes his way towards his office. The familiar click of shoes on the polished floor follows close behind, signaling his secretary, Jimin, is trailing him.

“Your schedule is free, Mr. Jeon.” Jimin remarks, a teasing edge in his voice. “It’s literally the weekend.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, letting out a long sigh. “I know, but I just don’t feel like going.” he mutters, his stride purposeful as he heads towards his cabin.

Jimin quickens his pace to match Jungkook’s, his tone light but persistent. “The kids would love it, Mr. Jeon. Plus, it’s your responsibility.”

Jungkook groans inwardly, knowing there’s no winning an argument when Jimin uses that reasoning. “Fine.” he relents, glancing over his shoulder with a pointed glare. “But... you’re coming with me.”

“Of course.” Jimin quips with a smirk, unfazed. “I go wherever my boss goes.”

Jungkook shakes his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips despite himself, before pushing open the door to his cabin. “You’re insufferable.” he mutters, disappearing inside. Jimin grins to himself, adjusting his tie. “It’s part of the job.” he mutters quietly before heading back to his desk.

//

The familiar scent of antiseptic and faint floral air freshener envelops you as you step into the hospital. You glance around, taking in the sight of doctors briskly walking in their white coats, nurses tending to charts, and patients navigating the lobby with family members by their sides. The soft hum of conversations and the occasional beep of monitors create a somber yet steady rhythm.

You make your way to the reception desk, offering a small smile to the woman behind the counter. Her face lights up with recognition.

“You’re early today.” she notes gently. You nod, your expression soft. “I just missed Beomgyu.” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. She smiles warmly, her eyes filled with understanding. “Go ahead.” she says, motioning towards the elevator.

You thank her with a brief smile before turning and stepping into the elevator, pressing the button to take you to the floor where your brother’s room is.

The soft chime of the elevator brings you back to reality as the doors slide open. You walk down the familiar corridor, each step feeling heavier as you approach his room. Pushing the door open, your breath catches in your throat as your eyes land on Beomgyu. His motionless body lies on the bed, the faint hum of medical equipment the only sign of life. Four years. It’s been four long years, and he hasn’t moved an inch.

You sit down in the chair next to his bed, your hands trembling as you reach for his. His hand is cold in yours, and the weight of it brings tears to your eyes. But you blink them away, determined to stay strong.

“Hey, Gyu.” you whisper, brushing your thumb gently over his knuckles. Your voice is soft, filled with a bittersweet mix of hope and sorrow. “I’m here.”

No matter how many times you see him like this, it never gets easier. Each visit feels like a fresh wound, a new wave of pain crashing over you. He was your only family and the sight of his still body, the steady beep of the monitor, and the faint rise and fall of his chest... it all feels both familiar and unbearable. Every time, it’s as if a tiny piece of your heart breaks all over again.

As you stare at his face, a sigh escapes your lips, heavy with the weight of countless unshed tears. "Gyu..." you whisper, your voice barely audible in the stillness of the room. "It’s getting so hard." Your words falter, carried by the quiet hum of the machines that have become the soundtrack of his existence.

"No matter what I do... I just... I just can’t stop thinking about him." you confess, closing your eyes as the first tear escapes, tracing a slow, burning path down your cheek. Your grip on Beomgyu’s hand tightens, your thumb brushing over his knuckles in slow, rhythmic motions. Though his hand remains lifeless, you hold on as if it’s your last tether to sanity, as if somehow he can feel your anguish.

Maybe he hears me, you think, clinging to the hope that keeps you returning to this room day after day. "I miss him so much." you murmur, your voice cracking under the weight of those words. The sob that escapes your lips feels like a betrayal, exposing just how deeply the pain has taken root.

Beomgyu never met Jungkook... yet, in your heart, you know that if he ever did... he would have absolutely loved him.

You remember that one day you brought Jungkook here, to visit Beomgyu, his hand firmly holding yours as you led him down these sterile hallways.

He had sat beside you, his arm wrapped protectively around your trembling frame, as you told him about the accident that had stolen Beomgyu’s vibrant spirit and left him in this suspended state. Jungkook’s presence had been an anchor that day, steady and reassuring, his soft murmurs giving you the courage to speak through your tears.

And then, there was that promise. You can still hear your own voice, shaky but determined, as you looked into Jungkook’s eyes. "When Beomgyu wakes up, you’ll be the first to know." The memory feels like a lifetime ago, a fragment of a world where hope felt tangible and love wasn’t wrapped in layers of regret.

Now, that promise lingers like a ghost, haunting you with its impossibility. The weight of it presses against your chest, suffocating in its quiet accusation.

You lower your head, your tears falling silently onto the sterile sheets, wishing for a reality where things could have been different... where Beomgyu would wake up, and Jungkook would still be yours to call.

//

After spending about forty minutes sitting by your brother’s side, you feel the weight of time press down on you. With a reluctant sigh, you lean forward, pressing a gentle kiss on his cool forehead. The stillness of the room wraps around you like an unwanted embrace, amplifying the ache in your chest.

You stand, taking a moment to drink in the sight of him, his face so serene yet painfully distant. Finally, you force yourself to turn away, the sharp pull of grief hurting you even as your feet carry you towards the door.

The hospital hallways stretch before you, illuminated by fluorescent lights that feel too bright for the heaviness clouding your heart. The muted chatter of families and nurses echoes faintly around you, but you tune it out, your focus on the floor ahead.

Every step feels heavy, yet familiar... grief walking alongside you like an old companion. You’re lost in thought, your mind lingering on memories you can't quite hold onto, when the sharp ring of your phone jolts you back to the present.

You pause, fishing the device out of your bag. The name on the screen makes a faint smile touch your lips. "Hey, Joonie." you greet, your tone soft but warm.

“Oh my god Y/N...Hi... where have you been?” Namjoon’s voice filters through, steady yet tinged with his usual concern. “I was just visiting Beomgyu.” you reply, stepping into the elevator as the doors slide open.

“Ah...” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a gentler note. “Sorry if I disturbed you.”

“No, not at all.” you assure him, leaning against the elevator wall. “I was just about to leave anyway. What’s up?” There’s a slight pause on the other end before he continues talking. “I wanted to check if you’re coming to the orphanage this weekend. You know... for the volunteering session.”

The mention of the orphanage brings a warmth to your chest. Your lips curve into a genuine smile as you think of the place that’s come to feel like a second home. “Of course I’ll be there.” you reply without hesitation.

“That's great!!” Namjoon says, a hint of relief in his tone. “Mrs. Lee mentioned there’s going to be some kind of workshop for the kids, though I’m not really sure what it’s about.”

You hum thoughtfully, stepping out of the elevator as it dings open on the ground floor. “A workshop? That sounds interesting. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what it's about.” you muse, the faint hum of curiosity threading through your voice.

Namjoon chuckles lightly. “Yeah, seems like it. Anyways, you get home safe, Y/N-ah. I'll see you on the weekend.” he says. “See you Joonie... Bye.” you reply, your smile lingering as the call ends.

As you slip your phone back into your bag and step into the cool evening air, a quiet sense of purpose washes over you. The orphanage, specifically, the Sunflower Orphanage, holds a deeply rooted place in your heart.

It’s not just a building, it’s a chapter of your life, a part of your story written alongside your brother, Beomgyu as the two of you grew up there and navigated a world that often felt too vast and too indifferent.

Volunteering there every weekend for the past month with Namjoon hasn’t just been about giving back to the place that shaped you, it’s become a way to honor the struggles you and Beomgyu once faced.

It’s a way of making peace with the past while helping to build a brighter future for the children still living it. The act of helping others has started to feel like a balm for your soul, a small piece of healing in a journey that has felt insurmountable at times.

More than that, it’s helped you stay busy, distracted, keeping your mind from wandering too often to the void that has been lingering in your life for the past four months, an emptiness you’re not ready to confront fully yet.

Every smile from the kids, every hug, every story they share with you reminds you why you’ve always wanted to be a kindergarten teacher.

Now, being able to follow your dream and also volunteer at the very orphanage you grew up in, doing your best to give these children the care and love you once longed for, feels profoundly rewarding.

There’s a bittersweet comfort in walking the same halls you once did, now as a volunteer instead of a resident. You find joy in helping the kids paint their dreams on blank canvases, in reading stories that spark their imaginations, and in simply being a presence they can rely on.

The Orphanage, with its chipped walls and resilient spirit, has become more than a part of your history... it’s a part of your healing, too.

//

Saturday

"Shit, shit." you mutter under your breath, hastily paying the cab driver before dashing towards the entrance of the orphanage. You were supposed to be here early today, especially since you knew there was a workshop planned for the kids.

Mrs. Lee had mentioned needing help with the setup and cleanup, and you’d eagerly offered. But luck hadn’t been on your side. First, your original cab broke down, forcing you to find another. Then, traffic decided to conspire against you, dragging out what should’ve been a quick journey into an agonizing wait.

As you ran up the steps at the entrance, slightly out of breath, your eyes catch on something that brings you to an abrupt halt. A large banner hangs above the double doors, bold letters printed across it. The sight of it makes your stomach churn.

“No way...” you whisper, realization dawning like a bucket of ice water poured over your head as you read the banner. “This is… Jungkook’s workshop?”

You stand frozen, trying to process what you’re seeing. The placards stationed around the entrance leave no room for doubt. Each one bears the unmistakable logo of his company. The presentation materials stacked neatly by the door, the branded posters, and even the staff moving equipment inside all scream his involvement.

You inhale sharply, the air catching in your throat. Of course, it had to be here. Of all the orphanages in the city, the one you’ve been volunteering at for the past month had to be the very place where Jungkook... your ex boyfriend, Jungkook... is hosting a workshop. The universe really has a twisted sense of humor sometimes.

“Fuck.” you mutter, closing your eyes and trying to calm the storm brewing in your chest. You press a hand against the doorframe to steady yourself, taking deep breaths to fight off the anxiety creeping up your spine.

Your mind races with questions you’re not sure you want answers to. Is he here? Or is this one of those events where his employees take the lead while he stays behind the scenes? Should you turn around and leave before anyone notices, or would that make things worse?

You glance back at the cab, still idling by the curb. For a fleeting second, the idea of jumping back in and leaving tempts you. But then you hear the sound of children’s laughter filtering through the open doors, mingling with the excited chatter of the staff, and you know you can’t just leave.

Bracing yourself, you take another deep breath and step inside, your heart pounding harder with each step. The familiar warmth of the orphanage wraps around you, but today it feels heavier, tinged with the tension you’re carrying. You repeat a silent mantra, trying to ground yourself. Stay professional. This is about the kids. Nothing else matters.

“I’ll just… I’ll just pretend I don’t know him.” you mutter under your breath, nodding to yourself as your footsteps echo in the hallway.

//

As you step into the bustling main hall, your eyes land on Namjoon almost immediately. The minute he spots you too, it doesn’t take long for him to weave his way through the crowd towards you, his expression a mix of shock and concern. “Y/N…” he begins, his voice low but urgent as he reaches you. “I had no idea this was going to be his workshop.” The disbelief in his tone mirrors your own feelings.

You throw your head back, a groan escaping your lips. “I know. What the hell am I supposed to do? Is he really here, though? Or is it just his team running the workshop?” you ask, a flicker of hope creeping into your voice as you glance at him.

Namjoon hesitates, his lips pressing into a thin line as if he’s trying to cushion the blow. “Unfortunately…” he starts, his tone apologetic. “He’s here. I just saw him talking to Mrs. Lee a few minutes ago.” You close your eyes, rubbing your temples. “This is so, so, so not fair.” you mutter, your frustration bubbling over.

“Hey…” Namjoon’s voice softens as he places his hands on your shoulders, steadying you. His calm presence is like an anchor in the midst of your swirling emotions. “You’re going to be fine. I know breaking up with him was hard for you, but right now... the best you can do is just stay professional. Pretend like you don’t know him and I’m sure he won’t approach you… I hope.” he adds with a small, uncertain smile.

You let out a shaky sigh, your shoulders slumping under the weight of the situation. Namjoon’s logic makes sense, but it does little to calm the storm brewing inside you. “I haven’t seen him in four months, Joon.” you admit, your voice shaky. “And now, of all times, I have to see him? Here?”

Namjoon offers you a sympathetic look, his hand squeezing your shoulder reassuringly. “I know it’s hard, but I know you’ve got this. Just try your best to avoid him.”

You nod slowly, though you’re far from convinced. This isn’t a situation you can simply walk away from. Jungkook’s presence is inevitable now, and the thought of seeing him again, after everything, sends a whirlwind of emotions crashing through you.

You're aware Jungkook won't be expecting to see you here today and you can't help but wonder what his reaction will be when he actually ends up seeing you. Would his expression shift the moment he spots you? Would it be one of cold indifference, barely a flicker of acknowledgment? Or something sharper like anger, disappointment, perhaps even sadness? The possibilities swirl in your mind, each one more unsettling than the last.

Shaking your head, you force yourself to brush the questions aside. There’s no time to dwell on this right now. You take a steadying breath and look around the busy hall. It’s high time you start helping out. After all, you’re already late, and the least you can do is make up for lost time by pitching in wherever you’re needed.

//

Once all the kids are settled in their seats, their excitement bubbling over in the form of giggles and whispers, you step back, making your way to the back of the room. Namjoon is already there, his arms crossed loosely as he leans against the wall. You take your place beside him, exhaling deeply, trying to calm your heart and mind.

As the workshop begins, your eyes inevitably drift to the front of the room. Jungkook stands there, effortlessly commanding attention. He’s dressed sharply but casually, the rolled-up sleeves of his button-down shirt exposing his tattooed forearm. His presence is magnetic, and it’s no surprise that even the youngest kids are riveted as he begins to speak.

“This program is called 'Healthy Futures'.” he starts, his tone warm and inviting. “It’s about giving you the knowledge and tools to take care of your health. Eating the right food, staying active, and understanding how to take care of your bodies... it’s not just important now, but it’ll help you for years to come.”

He gestures to a large poster board displaying colorful illustrations of fruits, vegetables, and simple meal plans. “Today, we’ll talk about nutrition, and we’ll even have some fun activities to show you how to make smart food choices. You’ll see how easy it can be to make meals that are both delicious and good for you.”

The kids are wide-eyed, soaking up every word. Jungkook’s ability to connect with them is undeniable. As he dives into the presentation, explaining concepts in simple, engaging terms and peppering his talk with questions to keep the kids involved, a small smile tugs at your lips.

You watch as he crouches down to a child’s level, handing them a flashcard and encouraging them to name the food group it belongs to. The way his eyes light up with genuine enthusiasm when the child gets it right is a sight that momentarily softens the ache in your chest.

You can’t help but smile, even if it’s bittersweet. Seeing him like this... passionate, caring, and entirely in his element... reminds you of the man you fell in love with. His natural charm, the way he effortlessly makes others feel seen and valued, is just as captivating now as it was then.

Namjoon nudges you gently. “You okay?” he asks, his voice low. You nod again, your gaze fixed on Jungkook. “Yeah.” you whisper, though the lump forming in your throat makes it a struggle to get the word out. “I’m fine.” you say.

//

As Jungkook wraps up his talk, his voice is steady and warm, a reflection of the effort he’s poured into making this workshop meaningful. “Alright, kids, now it’s time for the fun part...” he announces with a grin.

“My team is going to help you make a simple, healthy snack, something delicious and easy that you can make yourselves... so follow them and they'll guide you through the process." he says.

The children erupt in cheers and applause, their excitement echoing through the hall. Jungkook’s smile widens at their enthusiasm, the earlier reluctance he felt about being here melting away. It’s moments like these that make everything worth it. Seeing their faces light up is a reward far greater than any professional accolade.

As the kids begin to disperse, following the other employees out of the hall, Jungkook takes a moment to glance around, his eyes scanning the room to take in the atmosphere. And then he suddenly sees you.

Jungkook lips part a watches you intently, his eyes trailing as you exchange words with Namjoon before following him out of the room. His throat feels dry, his mind reeling. She's… here? The words echo in his head as his heart pounds erratically against his ribcage.

He gulps, trying to steady himself, but the unexpected sight of you has thrown him completely off balance. Before he can fully process his spiraling thoughts, Jimin’s voice cuts through the haze.

“Mr. Jeon, shall we?” he prompts, his tone professional but gentle, unknowingly grounding Jungkook back to the present. He blinks, nodding faintly as he forces his legs to move, trailing behind his secretary towards the activity room.

But just when he enters the activity room, what he doesn't expect is for you to be the first person he sees. You’re standing just a few feet away, holding a precarious stack of trays to distribute it among the kids. Your focus is elsewhere, until your eyes suddenly meet his. The world tilts for a moment as your face registers a mix of shock and disbelief.

The impact of seeing him here, so close, sends a jolt through you. Your grip falters, and before you can stop it, the trays slip from your hands, the clattering sound echoing through the room as everything scatters across the floor.

The kids go silent, their chatter replaced by a stunned hush as all eyes turn towards you. The embarrassment and panic that flood your system make your skin prickle, but before you can even begin to move, Jungkook is already in front of you.

“Are you... are you okay?” His voice is low, concerned, his hands gently closing over yours as if to steady you. His touch is firm yet hesitant, and the warmth of his palms against your skin sends a shiver through you.

You can barely process his words, your heart pounding too loudly in your ears. Your lips part, but no sound comes out as you struggle to respond. The way he’s looking at you... those familiar dark eyes filled with a mixture of worry and something deeper, makes it impossible to think straight.

“I uhhh... I’m fine.” you finally stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. Your cheeks burn as you quickly try to pull your hands back, but he doesn’t let go immediately. His fingers linger for a second longer than necessary, as if he’s reluctant to lose the contact.

Namjoon, having watched the entire scene unfold, clears his throat as he approaches. “Y/N, are you alright? Did you hurt yourself?” he asks, his tone gentle yet purposeful, as if trying to diffuse the tension.

“I’m fine.” you repeat, louder this time, forcing yourself to look away from Jungkook as you pull your hand away from his and focus on the mess on the floor. You crouch down, starting to pick up the scattered trays, desperate to avoid his eyes. Namjoon joins you without a word, but you can feel Jungkook’s gaze still fixed on you.

Jimin steps forward, clearly confused by the sudden commotion. “Mr. Jeon, should we...” he starts, glancing between Jungkook and the scene before him, but Jungkook barely acknowledges him. His focus is solely on you, his mind racing as he tries to process everything.

For Jungkook, this moment feels surreal. He hadn’t prepared himself for seeing you... not here, not like this. And now, with you so close yet seemingly so far, the weight of everything unsaid between you presses down on him like a tidal wave.

He wants nothing more than to just hold you, to pull you close and take in every detail of your face. These four months have been nothing short of hell, filled with an unrelenting ache for your presence.

But as he watches you so obviously avoiding him, he feels rooted to the spot, his mind scrambling to find the right words... words that refuse to come out.

//

Once the kids are fully immersed in their activity, you quietly slip out of the room, desperate for a moment to catch your breath. The weight of Jungkook’s presence had pressed on you relentlessly for the past twenty minutes, his gaze a constant reminder of the unresolved emotions between you two. Each stolen glance felt like it peeled back layers of the wall you’d carefully built around yourself.

The hallway is quiet as you walk towards the large window at the far end, your footsteps muffled against the polished floor. You pause there, gazing out at the orphanage’s small garden, the scene outside blurring as your mind spins.

Your fingers find the pendant hidden beneath your sweater, and you begin to fidget with it, the familiar texture grounding you. This pendant, this tiny piece of jewelry, holds a weight of its own, a connection to a past that feels both distant and ever-present.

Seeing Jungkook up close had hit you harder than you expected. He hadn’t changed. He was still just as beautiful, still radiated that quiet warmth that had always drawn people to him. The same warmth you’d once found comfort in.

And you missed him... God, you missed him in a way that made your chest ache. But that only made it worse. Because you couldn’t let yourself fall apart, not now, not when you had to face him. You’re so lost in thought that the sound of a familiar voice startles you.

“Y/n.”

Your body tenses instantly. You don’t turn, your fingers reflexively tucking the pendant back beneath your sweater as if it’s some fragile secret you need to protect. You stay facing the window, your breaths shallow as you try to steady your heartbeat.

“You… won’t even look at me?” Jungkook's voice is soft, hesitant, but the pain in it cuts through you like a blade. You bite your lip, your eyes still fixed on the view outside, but all you can feel is him. The rawness of his words sinks into you, heavy and unshakable.

“Y/n…” His voice comes again, quieter this time, almost breaking. It’s not just a name... it’s a plea, one you wish you could ignore but know you can’t.

You hate this. You hate that Jungkook, of all people... the kindest, most selfless soul you’ve ever known... is standing here now, burdened by the pain you caused him. You hate that you’re the one who turned his world upside down. And yet, even now, you can’t bring yourself to face him.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself as you turn to face him. Your expression is blank, a carefully constructed mask. “What?” The word comes out cold, clipped, and you instantly regret the sharpness of your tone.

Jungkook’s gaze softens as he studies you, his dark eyes tracing the contours of your face. You still look the same... still breathtaking, still the person he fell hopelessly in love with. But there’s something different too, a guardedness that wasn’t there before, a distance he doesn’t know how to bridge.

“How… how have you been? It’s been a while.” he says softly, his voice laced with hesitation as he takes a tentative step closer.

“I’m fine.” The words come quickly, too quickly, as if you’re desperate to end this conversation before it can even begin. You don’t meet his gaze for long, your eyes flicking away like you’re afraid of what he might see.

Every second in his presence feels like an eternity, the weight of the emotions swirling between you both, suffocating. You can’t do this. Not now, not like this. The effort of keeping your face neutral, of pretending you don’t feel the same pull towards him that you always have... it’s too much.

Without another word, you move to step past him, your focus solely on the hallway ahead. But before you can escape, his hand reaches out, catching your wrist. The warmth of his touch sends a jolt through you, halting you in your tracks.

“Wait.” he says, his voice quiet but firm. There’s a vulnerability in his tone that makes your chest tighten, and for a moment, you can’t bring yourself to look at him.

You take a deep breath, feeling the warmth of his hand wrapped gently around your wrist. It’s almost unbearable... how much harder this is than you’d expected. Having him so close, right there behind you, stirs emotions you’ve fought tirelessly to suppress.

Slowly, you turn over your shoulder, finally meeting his eyes. The intensity in them is overwhelming, a deep sea of emotions you can’t bring yourself to name. They hold so much... questions, pain, longing and you feel a lump rise in your throat as you let out a shaky breath.

“Let me go, Jungkook.” you say quietly, your voice steadier than you feel. You try to tug your wrist free, but his grip tightens ever so slightly, not enough to hurt but enough to keep you rooted in place.

“I didn’t expect to see you here…” he says softly, his voice low and filled with something you can’t quite place. He’s ignoring your plea, but there’s no malice in it, only hesitation, like he doesn’t want to let go just yet. “I’m volunteering.” you reply flatly, forcing the words out without a hint of emotion. “And I need to go.” you add, your tone clipped as you yank your wrist out of his hold.

This time, he lets you go, his hand falling to his side as he watches you stride away from him as fast as you can manage. You don’t dare look back, even as you feel his gaze linger on you, burning into your retreating figure. Your heart pounds with each step, your emotions bubbling dangerously close to the surface, but you don’t stop. You can’t.

You barge into the restroom, letting the door shut heavily behind you. The cool air does nothing to soothe the storm raging inside you. Instantly, your hands fly up to cover your face, a desperate attempt to stifle the sobs threatening to escape.

Your chest heaves as you fight against the tears that burn at the edges of your eyes, your palms pressing against your cheeks as if holding yourself together. But it’s futile. The weight of seeing him again... his voice, his touch, the unspoken pain in his eyes, comes crashing down on you all at once.

A strangled breath escapes your lips, and you lean against the sink for support. Your fingers grip the edge of the cold porcelain as if it’s the only thing keeping you grounded. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, your blurred vision making it hard to focus.

“This isn’t how it was supposed to be.” you whisper to yourself, your voice breaking. Your tears fall freely now, streaking down your cheeks as the emotions you’ve bottled up for months finally spill over. The ache of his presence, the agony of your unresolved feelings... it’s all too much.

You press a trembling hand against your chest, trying to steady the harsh pounding of your heart. For a moment, you close your eyes, taking deep breaths as you attempt to compose yourself. But the pain lingers, sharp and unrelenting.

//

The workshop winds down, the chatter of children and clinking of utensils slowly fading into the background. You’ve spent the entire afternoon and evening carefully maneuvering to avoid Jungkook’s gaze, your heart in a constant state of unease.

Every glance he threw your way, every fleeting moment you felt his presence nearby, only made the weight in your chest heavier.

By the time the clock strikes 8, exhaustion has seeped into your bones, not just from the work but also from the emotional toll of the day. Mrs. Lee thanks you warmly as you help her finish setting up dinner. Namjoon remains by your side, quiet but supportive, his presence a comforting anchor in the chaos of your thoughts.

“You did great today.” he murmurs softly as you both step out of the main hall, his tone gentle. You offer him a faint smile, appreciating his effort to lighten your mood, but the turmoil inside you is too heavy to shake off completely.

Finally, you decide it’s time to leave. Walking down the stairs by the entrance, you feel the cool evening breeze brush against your cheeks. You glance up at the darkening sky, the stars peeking through faintly, their distant glow a stark contrast to the storm swirling within you.

Pulling your coat tighter around you, you fix your bag on your shoulder and bury your hands in your pockets. The thought of going home to the solace of your quiet living room, sappy rom-coms, and a tub of ice cream feels like the only reprieve you’ll get tonight.

As you reach the bus stop, you take a seat on the cold bench, staring at the empty road ahead. The world around you feels quiet and still, yet your mind is an undying chaos. Your thoughts drift back to Jungkook... his voice, his touch, the way his eyes silently pleaded with you earlier and just how much you miss him.

You sigh heavily, resting your elbows on your knees and burying your face in your hands. The ache of seeing him again lingers like a ghost, refusing to leave you be.

As you attempt to gather your thoughts, the soft hum of an approaching engine disrupts your reverie. Your head lifts instinctively, and before you can process it, a sleek car pulls to a stop right in front of you. The headlights cast a gentle glow on the empty road, but it’s the sight of the driver that makes your breath hitch.

Your lips part in surprise, your brows furrowing as the window rolls down. There he is, his dark eyes fixed on you.

“Y/n.” Jungkook calls softly, his voice carrying over the quiet evening. You sigh, a mix of frustration and weariness bubbling within you. Without a word, you stand, shifting your gaze to the left, hoping to catch sight of the bus that feels agonizingly far from arriving.

“Y/n, it’s late. Let me drop you home.” Jungkook says, his tone gentle but insistent. Your heart stumbles at the offer, the thought of being alone with him sending your nerves into overdrive. You don’t trust yourself... not with how raw and exposed you feel after today. So, you do what you’ve been doing all afternoon. You ignore him.

Fixing your gaze on the road ahead, you refuse to acknowledge him. “Y/n, please…” His voice softens, almost breaking. You clench your jaw, the plea digging into you, forcing you to glance at him. “Just go, Jungkook.” you snap flatly, your tone colder than you intended.

Jungkook’s grip on the steering wheel tightens as your words hit him like a blow. He swallows hard, his gaze never leaving you. “I’ll just drop you home. Please, it’s not safe this late.” he persists, his determination unwavering.

You shake your head, muttering under your breath as you start walking down the pavement, each step heavier than the last. But Jungkook, true to his nature, doesn’t back down so easily.

The car begins to crawl forward, matching your pace as you walk. His persistence is both frustrating and heartbreaking. You can feel his gaze through the window, silently urging you to stop, to listen, to look at him.

“Y/n.” he calls out again, his voice tinged with desperation. Your chest tightens as you quicken your steps, hoping to outrun the storm of emotions brewing within you. But no matter how far you walk, Jungkook is right there, his car trailing you like a shadow, refusing to let you go.

The sound of the car suddenly stopping and the door opening breaks through the rhythm of your footsteps, and you stiffen. You don’t turn around, determined to maintain your resolve, but then you feel it... a firm yet gentle hand gripping your arm, spinning you around effortlessly.

Your eyes widen as you find yourself face-to-face with Jungkook, the intensity in his gaze pinning you in place. His breath is uneven, as if he’s been chasing you, though he hasn’t. “Please.” he says, his voice raw and pleading. “Just let me drop you home. That’s literally all I’m asking.”

His words hang heavy between you, and for a moment, you close your eyes, exhaling sharply. His persistence is unrelenting, and deep down, you know your bus isn’t arriving anytime soon to save you from this situation.

You pull your arm free from his grasp, the warmth of his touch lingering even as you step back. Without meeting his gaze, you walk towards his car, your resolve cracking under the weight of exhaustion and inevitability.

Sliding into the passenger seat, you settle into the cold leather with a resigned sigh, the door closing behind you with a soft thud. He'll just drop me home, you convince yourself as you don’t look at him, keeping your gaze fixed ahead.

Jungkook quietly gets back into the driver’s seat, his movements careful as if afraid to shatter the fragile silence that now envelops the two of you. The hum of the engine rises again, but neither of you say anything, the tension stretching thin as the car begins to move.

As Jungkook drives, the rhythmic sound of the tires on the road fills the car, but the silence between you feels louder, heavier. Your gaze remains fixed outside the window, the passing streetlights casting fleeting glows across your face. Your hands clutch your purse tightly on your lap, a silent anchor to steady your racing emotions.

The stillness is suddenly broken by his voice, soft but heavy with restraint. “So… how have you been?” he asks, his eyes focused on the road ahead.

You don't answer. You don’t move. You don’t flinch. Your determination to stay silent grows stronger as you think about the consequences of letting him back into your life. The jagged edges of your reality press against you like shards of glass.

“Y/n…” he calls out again, his voice gentler this time, but still, you keep your gaze fixed outside, ignoring the crackling tension in the air.

He exhales audibly, the pain in his voice more evident now. “Y/n, I haven’t seen you in four months... and now you’re here, but you’re acting like I don’t even exist.” His words tremble, and you feel the sharp sting of guilt twisting in your chest.

“You’re right here.” he murmurs, almost to himself. “But why do you feel so far away?”

Your lips tighten into a thin line, and your grip on your purse grows tighter. You can feel his eyes on you, searching, pleading, but you refuse to meet his gaze. “Are you really not going to talk to me… at all?” he asks, his voice breaking slightly at the end.

Jungkook glances at your side profile, his knuckles white against the steering wheel as he fights to hold himself together. The hurt in his chest feels unbearable, a weight pressing harder with every second of your silence.

He’s done his best to come to terms with your absence, with the breakup, even when the harsh reasons you gave felt like flimsy walls hiding something bigger. But now, sitting this close to you and being treated like a stranger, it cuts deeper than he expected.

“You know what…” Jungkook suddenly mutters under his breath, and though you hear the shift in his tone, you don’t move, don’t react. But then the car swerves abruptly, jerking to the left. Your head snaps towards him, eyes wide with shock as you clutch the handlebar above your seat.

“Jungkook!” you exclaim, your heart hammering as you notice the road signs signaling that he’s no longer heading towards your neighborhood.

“I can’t do this anymore.” he says, his voice firm but tinged with exhaustion. His grip on the steering wheel tightens and his foot presses harder on the gas pedal, the car speeding up.

“Jungkook, what are you doing?? Slow down !!” you demand, trying to mask the panic creeping into your voice. “We need to talk.” he states simply, his eyes focused on the road ahead as if there’s nothing else in the world but his determination.

Your breath catches in your throat, and your mind races. “Jungkook, turn the car around.” you say firmly, though your voice wavers slightly.

But he doesn’t listen. Instead, his jaw tightens, and the speed of the car increases further, the scenery outside blurring. Then it hits you... he’s heading in the direction towards his place.

“Jungkook…” you begin, your voice softer now, a mixture of anger and disbelief.

He doesn’t answer this time, his silence carrying more weight than words ever could. His gaze remains locked forward, the muscles in his jaw ticking as if he’s trying to rein in the storm brewing within him.

You glance outside, feeling both trapped and helpless. Every instinct in you screams to argue, to demand that he stops, but a part of you... a small, stubborn part wonders what he’s so desperate to say.

After 10 tense minutes of silence, the car finally comes to a halt in front of Jungkook's building. He doesn’t waste a second, stepping out of the car and slamming the door behind him. You watch him from the corner of your eye, your hands still gripping the purse on your lap, as he strides purposefully to your side of the car.

Before you can even process what’s happening, he pulls the door open, and the chill of the night air sweeps over you, making you shiver. He leans down slightly, his dark eyes locking with yours, filled with an unrelenting determination that sends your heart racing.

“Come with me.” he says, his voice steady but soft as he extends a hand towards you. You stare at his hand, conflicted, the weight of the moment pressing down on your chest. You feel cornered, unable to escape this situation he’s forced you into.

“Jungkook…” you begin, but the words catch in your throat. He sighs, his shoulders sagging slightly, as if the plea in your voice strikes a chord in him. But before you can say anything else, he gently grabs your wrist. The touch is soft, hesitant, but there’s an urgency to his movements as he guides you out of the car.

You stumble slightly, your body still resistant, but he steadies you with a firm yet careful grip. He’s desperate, you can see it in the way his brows furrow, the way his lips press into a thin line as if he’s barely holding himself together. “Jungkook, I...” you breathe out, the words getting stuck in your throat.

“Just… please.” he interrupts, his voice raw with emotion. “I just wanna talk.... Please.”

His eyes search yours, and you can feel the ache in them, the unspoken pain he’s been carrying. Your chest tightens, and for a moment, you’re frozen, unable to say no, unable to pull away. He doesn’t give you a chance to argue further, his hand slipping from your wrist to your hand, his fingers curling around yours as he gently but firmly leads you towards his house.

You let out a shaky breath, the weight of the moment heavy in the air as you reluctantly follow him.

As Jungkook shuts the door to his apartment, the click echoes in the silence. He turns to face you, his eyes soft but piercing, like he’s searching for something he’s desperate to find.

“Y/n.” he says, your name rolling off his tongue like a plea.

You try to avoid his gaze, looking anywhere but at him, but then his hands come up to cup your face, his warmth grounding you in a way that sends a pang through your chest. His touch is gentle, yet insistent, as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

“Y/n, please.” he murmurs, his voice trembling. “Just talk to me.”

Your breath hitches, and you instinctively step back, only to feel the cool, unyielding wall against your back. You’re cornered... literally and emotionally... and the weight of the moment bears down on you.

Your emotions, so carefully locked away, begin to bubble to the surface. Anger, regret, frustration, they all swirl together, threatening to consume you. Gritting your teeth, you grab his wrists and pull his hands away from your face.

“Just leave me alone.” you choke out, your voice breaking. The tears that have been fighting to escape finally spill over, cascading down your cheeks. Before you know it, you’re sobbing uncontrollably, your body trembling as the dam holding back your emotions shatters.

Jungkook’s eyes widen in shock as he watches you unravel before him. His heart clenches painfully at the sight of your tears, the sound of your sobs cutting through him like a knife. He steps closer instinctively, his hands hovering uncertainly as if unsure whether to comfort you or give you space.

“Y/n…” he begins, his voice soft and hesitant, but you shake your head violently, interrupting him.

“You can’t do this, Jungkook.” you cry out, your voice trembling with frustration. “After everything I did to cut you off… you can’t just... just pull me back like this.”

Your words hit him like a blow, and he takes a shaky step back, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“Do you think this is easy for me?” he finally says, his voice breaking. “I didn’t want to pull you back, Y/n. But how am I supposed to let you go when I don’t even understand why you left?”

His words hang in the air, and you stare at him through your blurry vision, your heart pounding as his pain intertwines with yours. You’re both standing on the edge of a precipice, the weight of your shared history threatening to pull you under.

The air between you feels heavy, thick with emotions neither of you can control anymore. Jungkook’s gaze locks onto your tear-streaked face, his breathing shallow as he watches the pain and turmoil in your eyes. Something inside him snaps, and before he can stop himself, he takes a step forward, closing the distance between you.

His hands cradle your face, trembling slightly, as he leans in and harshly presses his lips against yours. It’s desperate, unrestrained, and raw. The suddenness of it makes you gasp, your breath hitching as his lips move against yours, pouring every unspoken word, every unanswered question into the kiss.

Your eyes flutter shut, and for a moment, your mind is overwhelmed by the flood of memories... his laugh, his touch, the way he used to make you feel like you were the only person that mattered. But as much as the kiss ignites a fire inside you, your tears don’t stop.

Jungkook feels the wetness of your tears against his palms, and it pulls him back abruptly. He steps away, his face etched with regret and panic, as if realizing he may have crossed a line he shouldn’t have.

“I... I’m sorry.” he stammers, his voice shaking as he searches your face. “I shouldn’t have—”

Before he can finish, you grab the front of his shirt and pull him back towards you, your lips colliding with his in a kiss that’s equally urgent and desperate. Your hands clutch onto him like he’s the only thing anchoring you to reality, and this time, the weight of all the emotions you’ve been holding back crashes into him.

Your kiss is messy, tinged with anger, longing, and sorrow, but it’s real. It’s the connection you’ve been denying for so long. Jungkook responds immediately, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer as if afraid you’ll slip away again.

The world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you in this moment, grappling with the emotions you’ve tried so hard to suppress.

Your lips never part, not even for a second, as you start pulling each other’s clothes off, letting them fall to the ground one after the other. Every single article of clothing gets discarded in a trail leading from his door step to his living room.

The heat between you intensifies, growing hotter and wilder with every second. It’s like you’ve been starving for each other, for this moment, this connection for so long that now you can’t help but devour each other.

You know you shouldn't be doing this. You know you can't face the consequences of your impulsive actions, but your heart refuses to let go. You're completely consumed by the passion and intensity of the kiss, unable to pull yourself away even when you have so much on the line.

Even as you walk into his apartment, your lips remain connected, your hands gripping his arms, holding onto him as if you’re afraid he’ll disappear if you let go. The world spins around you as he picks up the pace, guiding you to the couch. Your feet brush against the soft carpet, sending shivers up your leg, and before you know it, you feel the cushion behind you.

The feeling of Jungkook on top of you is nothing less than heaven. You run your hands up and down his tattooed arm, feeling the way his muscles tense with each touch. His kisses trail down your neck, making you squirm under him.

“Fuck...” he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin as he takes off your bra in a swift motion.

He groans softly, his eyes wide as they drink in the sight of you beneath him. Then his gaze falls to your collarbone, lingering on the familiar pendant resting against your skin.

"The... necklace." he notices, his fingers reaching out to brush it gently. His touch is reverent, almost hesitant, as if the small piece of jewelry holds all the words he can’t say. He looks up into your eyes, a subtle smile curving his lips.

"You... you never took it off?" he asks, his voice laced with slight disbelief.

"Never." you affirm softly, your voice steady yet tender. His eyes soften, glimmering with emotions too deep for words, and for a moment, it feels as if the necklace is the silent thread that has always held your hearts together.

“I…” his voice trails, and you can tell he’s struggling to find the right words. “I fucking missed you.” he breathes out and without giving you a chance to respond, he leans down and presses his lips to your chest.

You let out a moan as he starts sucking on the skin between your breasts, and your hips squirm beneath him. “Kook…” you gasp as his mouth closes around one of your nipples, making you arch your back. He bites down gently, and you can't help but cry out in pleasure.

You can feel his body shaking on top of you, the desperation to get closer to you is so so evident. His hand slides up your leg and rests at your waist before slipping under your back, lifting your hips to meet his. The kiss that follows is sweet and gentle, like he’s trying to apologize for everything that’s happened between you, even when it's not his fault.

Your hands move to his hair, twisting into the dark strands as you pull him even closer. You can’t stop yourself, you can’t resist him anymore. The feeling, the warmth, the electricity, it’s too hard to fight. Your body is craving his, and he’s giving you all the affection you’ve been craving for these past four dreadful months.

His lips trail down your body, stopping at the spot between your legs as he slides your underwear down your legs. You gasp as you watch him dip his head, the warmth of his tongue circling your clit. Your hands grip the couch, and your body arches in reaction to the pleasure he’s sending through your body.

“Fuck.” you gasp, barely able to string the words together as he presses his face between your legs. Jungkook moans, his tongue licking around your clit in firm, steady strokes. Your hands move from the couch to his shoulders, pushing him further between your legs.

He looks up at you, his eyes filled with hunger and desire, his chin wet from your arousal, as he grips your hips and pulls you closer. He buries his tongue as deep as it can go, causing your body to jerk in reaction.

You cry out his name, your voice hoarse as your hands grip his hair. Jungkook feels himself get harder as he flattens his tongue, applying pressure to your clit. “Fuck… please... please Kook... don’t stop.” you beg as he licks you faster, your hips rocking against his face.

Your moans echo through the empty apartment as Jungkook works you closer and closer to release. When he stops sucking your clit and presses his tongue deep inside of you instead, you lose it, your orgasm washing over you in waves.

You can’t do anything but lay there and take it, your legs shaking and twitching around his face as your body convulses with pleasure.

He kisses his way up your body, licking the sweat from your skin before he finally reaches your lips. The taste of your arousal on his lips sends heat through you, and you moan as his tongue enters your mouth.

Your tears are back, running down your cheeks as you try to process the moment. Jungkook pulls away from your lips and places his forehead against yours. His thumb softly wipes your tears away, as he tries to process this surreal moment himself.

“Fuck...” he whispers as he slowly rubs his length against your core, sending sparks through your body. You feel the warmth of his skin against yours... your bodies pressed together in a way you can't comprehend.

“I... I need you baby....” Jungkook murmurs against your lips, his length rubbing against you. You breathe heavily as you nod, wanting him to just take you right here, right now.

With one swift motion, he pushes himself inside you, filling you completely. Your lips part as you take in the feeling of being stretched out by him.

Jungkook stills for a moment, taking in the feeling of finally being back inside of you. He thought he’d never have you like this again, that he’d lost you forever, but here he is, buried deep inside your warmth. His eyes stare into yours, watching your chest heave up and down as you try to adjust to the feeling you had so deeply missed.

You stare into him, sniffling as your tears refuse to stop flowing. “I love you...” you hear him say as he leans forward again, capturing your wet lips in an urgent kiss.

As the kiss grows intense, he starts moving his hips, thrusting in and out of you in a slow and steady pace. Your hands grip his arms, digging your nails into his skin as you arch your back. Jungkook kisses you harder, his moans filling the air around you.

His movements are filled with need and longing, like he’s afraid this is the last time he’ll get to make love to you. He wants to take in every moan, every thrust, every gasp he gets from you.

You’re lost in the sensation, consumed by the pleasure Jungkook is giving you as his body moves over and into you. He holds you down, his weight pinning you to the couch as he makes love to you in his living room. You feel his hands gripping your hips, holding you in place as he thrusts deeper inside you.

Your legs wrap around his hips, pulling him closer as you gasp for air but his hands grip your legs, moving them up his body as he lifts your ankles to rest on his shoulders. The change of position causes him to slide deeper inside you, and you gasp as he hits a familiar spot inside and all you can see is stars.

“Oh god....” you moan as he starts increasing his pace. Your lips part as the sensation washes over you. Jungkook leans down, pressing his lips to yours as he fucks you with reckless abandon. He’s chasing his own release, but he wants you to come with him.

He thrusts into you over and over again, his hands gripping your waist as he holds himself up. Your hands are on his ass, pushing him closer, begging for more as he groans into your mouth.

Your moans fill the air as you feel your body build towards a second release. Jungkook feels it too, his pace picking up as he drives you over the edge once more. “I’m...I'm coming...” you cry, your nails digging into his skin.

Jungkook groans in response, his thrusts becoming wild and desperate. He fucks you like he can’t get enough, like he’ll never get to have you again.

You moan into his mouth as your orgasm washes over you once more. Your body convulses under him, and you can’t do anything but let it take you over. Jungkook grunts, his body shaking above you as he chases his own release.

“Fuck baby...” he groans as he fills you up and collapses on top of you his body shuddering and his hips thrusting into you a few more times, stretching out his orgasm as much as he can. Your arms wrap around him, holding him close as you take in the warmth of his body against yours.

Jungkook presses a tender kiss to your shoulder, the gesture carrying a weight of emotions he can’t put into words. The moment feels surreal, almost fragile, as if one wrong move could shatter it.

He never imagined he’d hold you like this again, the warmth of your presence grounding him in a reality he once thought he’d lost forever. To him, this feels like a stolen dream... achingly beautiful, yet tinged with the fear that it might slip away.

He slowly rolls off you, settling beside you against the soft cushions of the couch. His arms wrap around you instinctively, holding you close as his eyes trace the lines of your face.

The exhaustion etched into your features tugs at his heart. His gaze drifts downward, gazing at the necklace around your neck. You didn't take it off and... that must mean something right? As he continues taking in the sight of you, he feels an overwhelming ache rise within him... he had missed you more than words could ever convey.

A thousand questions crowd his mind. He wants to speak, to ask, to understand, to unravel everything that had been left unsaid and find a way back to what you guys once were. But then he notices the way your eyelids flutter, heavy with weariness, and the soft, unsteady rhythm of your breaths as you try to calm yourself.

He swallows the urge to press for answers, deciding that for now, the questions can wait. Morning will come soon enough. Instead, he tightens his hold on you, his heart pounding in his chest as he silently wills himself to remain still. The warmth of your presence soothes him, and he closes his eyes, hoping that sleep will find him in the solace of this stolen moment.

//

Jungkook's eyebrows knit together in his sleep, a slight twitch running through his body as he shifts uncomfortably on the couch. His eyes flutter open, and he instinctively clutches the blanket against his chest. Blinking groggily, he glances around, the familiar sight of his apartment slowly coming into focus.

The realization that he’s on the couch sinks in, and like a tidal wave, the memory of last night crashes into him. His breath hitches, and he jolts upright, his heart pounding in his chest. Panic bubbles beneath the surface as he glances at the empty space behind him.

He looks down at the blanket draped over his body, a puzzled frown forming as he struggles to recall when or how it got there. His eyes dart around the room, searching for any sign of you, but the stillness of his apartment feels unnervingly hollow. The silence presses down on him, heavy and suffocating.

Rising to his feet, Jungkook starts moving through the apartment, his voice shaky as he calls out your name. "Y/N??" he tries again, his tone more urgent this time. But there’s no answer.

Each step he takes only amplifies the sinking feeling in his chest. He checks the kitchen, the bathroom, his bedroom, even the balcony, but you’re nowhere to be found. His mind spirals, questioning if last night had been a cruel dream... a mirage conjured by his yearning.

Or had you truly been here, only to slip away quietly in the morning? The thought twists his stomach, leaving him nauseous as he leans against the wall, his hands trembling. Did he really lose you all over again?

Jungkook doesn’t waste a second. His movements are frantic, hands fumbling as he pulls on his clothes in haste, not even bothering to smooth out the wrinkles. His mind is racing, each thought more urgent than the last. He grabs his keys and bolts out the door, the sound of it slamming shut echoing through the empty hallway.

His heart pounds as he throws himself into the driver’s seat, the familiar hum of the engine roaring to life beneath him. His knuckles whiten as he grips the steering wheel, the tension radiating through his body. His eyes burn with exhaustion, but the ache in his chest far outweighs it.

The city is still waking up, the roads bathed in the soft glow of the morning sun. Jungkook doesn’t care. He presses harder on the accelerator, weaving through the sparse traffic with reckless determination. Every red light feels like a lifetime, every delay an unbearable agony.

He can't stop thinking about you. The way your touch felt like home, the way your lips trembled against his last night, and the way your tears spoke of everything you were too afraid to say. He can’t let that go. He won’t.

The thought of losing you again, of waking up every morning knowing you’re out there but not by his side, terrifies him. It’s a kind of pain he doesn’t think he can survive twice.

As he nears your neighborhood, his pulse quickens. He doesn’t know what he’ll say, or how you’ll react, but none of it matters. All he knows is that he needs you... more than air, more than anything.

Parking haphazardly in front of your house, he bolts towards your door, his heart hammering as he begins knocking. There’s no answer, and his anxiety only grows. He steps off your porch, wondering where you could be.

He rushes outside, reaching the pavement, desperately scanning the neighborhood, hoping to catch a glimpse of you somewhere.

He runs through the neighborhood, his heart pounding, the anxiety gnawing at him as he checks every corner, every familiar path, but you're nowhere to be seen. Yet, something inside him refuses to give up.

As he nears the park at the edge of the neighborhood, he slows down, taking a breath to steady himself. His eyes sweep over the quiet space, and in that moment, it’s as if time slows... until he sees you, sitting alone on a distant bench, your figure outlined against the soft glow of the morning light, looking smaller and more vulnerable than he’s ever seen you.

He wastes no time as he runs towards you, his footsteps growing louder as he approaches you, his figure growing more defined with every step. His heart is racing, not just from the frantic search, but from the sheer desperation to be close to you again, to make sure you’re okay.

You sit still, your eyes widening in disbelief as you realize he’s found you. A rush of emotions flood through you... surprise, guilt, and a wave of regret. You can't help but wonder how he managed to find you here.

You glance down, unable to meet his gaze as the memories of last night resurface. The vulnerability of the moment hits you hard. You had fled his apartment at dawn, unable to face him after everything. The way he had held you, the way everything felt so perfect in the heat of the moment... it scared you.

You knew you had no answers to his questions, no way to explain the reasons behind your past actions. And the truth? That was something you couldn’t give him, not now, not when you have so much to lose. The only thing left for you to do was leave him behind and slip away like a coward, hoping he wouldn’t follow.

But here he is, standing before you, his presence too much to ignore. You don't know whether to run again or finally face him.

Jungkook’s eyes are full of pain as he steps closer to you, his voice shaking with a mix of frustration and hurt. “You left.” he breathes out, as if the weight of his words is too much to bear.

“Why... why did you leave?” His voice cracks at the end, vulnerability spilling through in a way he can’t control.

You try to look away, but his gaze pulls you in. The truth, too raw and too close to the surface, is something you can’t escape. You can feel the crack in your heart widen with every passing second. "Jungkook... we're broken up." you whisper, barely meeting his eyes.

"No." he denies, the sharpness in his breath betraying the desperation in his chest. "Don't say that, especially after last night." His voice is pleading now, fragile, cracking in a way that shakes him to the core. His fists clench at his sides with the effort to keep himself together.

"How can you say that after everything? After what happened between us? How... can you just walk away like that? How can you pretend like... none of it mattered?"

He takes a step closer, his eyes burning with a need to understand, to hold on to the fragments of what he thought was still there. "The past four months... it’s been hell, Y/n. I’ve been drowning in this silence, wondering every day what went wrong. I never got an answer. You just... left. Without a word, without a valid reason. And I hate it. I hate that I don’t know why. I hate that you just cut me off like I meant nothing. Like everything we had... it was all just a lie."

You look at him, the tears unknowingly streaming down your face. "Kook..." you start, but he cuts you off. "I tried to let go... I tried to make peace with it... but... but it hurts, Y/n. It hurts more than I can put into words, and I don’t even know what I did wrong." he pauses, trying to calm himself down.

"I don’t know what happened between us. Why did... why did you leave me? Why did you make me feel like I was nothing to you?" His voice cracks, the tears in his eyes threatening to spill over. You stare at him, the lump in your throat intensifying. "You... you were everything to me. I thought we had a future together, Y/n. But now, I’m just... I'm just so lost.... I'm so lost without you."

Jungkook steps back for a moment, his hands running through his hair in frustration as he tries to make sense of it all. His breath is shallow, a quiet sob escaping him as he collects himself. "I need to know..." he mutters, barely audible. "Why? What... what happened? Please, just tell me."

He takes another shaky breath, the weight of his emotions almost unbearable. "Don’t tell me... you stopped loving me." he pleads, his voice raw and desperate. "I know that’s not true. I know you would never be so harsh to me." His words are laced with disbelief, as if he’s clinging to any shred of hope that there’s something he’s missing, something he can grasp, something that makes sense.

“I can feel it, Y/n.” he continues softly, eyes never leaving yours, searching your face as if it holds the answers. “I know you love me. You can’t just... stop. Not after everything we went through. Not after what we had.” He steps closer again, his heart aching at the thought of losing you. “So don’t tell me that’s it. Don’t tell me you just decided it was over.”

"I never stopped loving you." you whisper, your voice barely audible as hot tears continue to roll down your cheeks. The weight of your words feels like an anchor in your chest, heavy and suffocating. You feel weak, defeated... like there’s no hope left.

The sight of him standing there, shivering in pain, breaks you in ways you didn’t think were possible. His pain, the hurt you’ve caused, fills you with an overwhelming sense of guilt.

Your heart aches as you watch the way his eyes fill with confusion and desperation, his hands trembling as he reaches out to you, as if just a touch could make everything okay. But you know, deep down, that nothing can probably fix this.

"I'm sorry." you whisper, barely able to get the words out. "I'm so sorry, Jungkook. I never wanted to hurt you." The tears flow freely now, staining your cheeks as you try to find the strength to speak, to explain, but the words feel stuck, trapped inside you.

As you break down, Jungkook takes a seat beside you as he hesitantly wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. You bury your face in his chest, the tears coming in waves, uncontrollable, as the weight of everything you've been holding in comes rushing to the surface.

His hands gently stroke your back, soothing you in a way that makes everything feel just a little more bearable. Every sob that wracks your body seems to break his heart a little more, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he tightens his grip on you, as if reminding both of you that, for now, you’re not alone.

Jungkook feels his own tears begin to spill as he pulls you even closer, his heart breaking at the sight of your pain. His fingers tremble as they weave through your hair, trying to hold you as tightly as possible, as if he could absorb some of your sorrow.

The weight of the silence between you both is suffocating, but his mind races, desperately trying to understand why you’re in so much pain, why you had to leave him, why you feel so broken.

"Y/n..." His voice cracks, raw with emotion as he speaks your name. His chest tightens with the fear that maybe he’s never truly known the full story, that maybe everything he thought he understood was just an illusion.

His tears fall freely now, as he presses his forehead against yours, his breath shaky. "Please, just tell me. What happened?" His words are barely above a whisper, but they hold a desperate plea. "Why are you like this? What... what am I missing?"

His hands move to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing away the tears that continue to fall. He’s not sure if he’s crying for the both of you or if he’s just so lost in your pain that it feels like it’s his own. "I can’t lose you again, Y/n. I need to know... why we are the way we are right now. Please, just tell me. I can’t fix it if I don’t understand."

His grip on you tightens, the urgency in his voice rising as he gazes into your eyes, searching for some kind of answer, anything that will explain the devastation he’s feeling. His love for you is still so strong, so unyielding, but the fear of losing you completely is almost too much to bear.

Just as you're about to speak, your phone starts ringing, its shrill tone cutting through the heavy silence. You hesitate for a moment, unsure whether to pick it up, especially given the fragile state you're in right now. But the phone keeps ringing, insistent, and you feel a knot tighten in your stomach.

With a sniffle, you pull away from Jungkook, trying to compose yourself as you reach for your phone. "Just a minute..." you whisper, wiping away the last of your tears as you glance at the caller ID.

It's the hospital. Your heart skips a beat at the sight, and before you can think twice, you answer, trying to steady your voice. "Hello?"

"Am I speaking to Ms. Choi?" the voice on the other end asks. Your breath catches in your throat, and without a second thought, you stand up, your heart rate increasing with every passing second. "Yes, this is she." you reply, trying to keep your composure, but the panic is starting to rise in your chest.

Jungkook watches you intently, noticing the change in your expression as you stand up. His concern deepens as he observes the tension in your body. Who could be calling you at this hour? You grip the phone tighter as the voice on the other end continues speaking, but then you gasp, your breath coming in quick, shallow bursts.

He watches in horror as you suddenly collapse, your knees buckling beneath you. It's like all the strength has left your body. His instincts kick in immediately, and he's by your side in an instant, crouching down and reaching out for you.

His hands land gently on your shoulders as he pulls you towards him, trying to steady you. The phone slips from your grasp, clattering to the ground, but you don’t seem to notice. Your eyes are wide, unblinking, and you stare ahead, lost in whatever news you've just received.

"Y/n... what happened? Are you okay?" Jungkook's voice is laced with worry, his hand moving to your cheek to check for any sign of awareness. You blink a few times, as if snapping back into reality, but it’s still hard to focus. Your lips tremble as you finally meet his eyes, and you whisper his name. "Jungkook..."

His heart races as he holds you tighter, desperate for you to continue. He nods, prompting you to keep talking. "Jungkook... Beomgyu... he... he woke up." you say.

"What...?" Jungkook asks, his voice laced with disbelief. His wide eyes search your face for confirmation, and when he sees the glimmer of truth in your tear-streaked expression, his features soften into a smile. "Y/n... that's... that's great news. That's... amazing news, baby." His voice wavers, a mix of relief and joy, and his smile grows wider.

You nod quickly, the reality of it hitting you all over again as fresh tears stream down your cheeks. "He's awake, Jungkook... he's really awake." you whisper, your voice trembling with a mixture of happiness and overwhelming emotion.

You pause, glancing around as you try to calm yourself down. "I need to go see him. I... I need to get to the... the hospital." you say hurriedly, the urgency in your tone impossible to miss.

Jungkook catches your arm gently but firmly, grounding you for a moment. "Hey, hey." he says softly, looking into your eyes with a steady calmness. "I'll take you there, yeah? My car’s parked right outside your house, so let’s go. Come on." he softly says as he helps you up.

//

You barge through the hospital doors, your steps quick and frantic, your heart racing as you navigate through the lobby. Jungkook follows close behind, his presence a comforting weight amidst the chaos swirling in your mind.

You reach the elevator and jab the button repeatedly, as though it might make the lift arrive faster. The ride up feels like an eternity, and yet, when the doors slide open, you're already bolting down the hallway towards Beomgyu's room.

Finally, you stand outside the door, your hand frozen on the handle. You take a shaky breath, trying to collect yourself, your chest rising and falling with the weight of four long years of waiting. Four years of imagining this moment, of rehearsing what you’d say, how you’d feel... but now, standing here, all those thoughts dissolve into a haze of indescribable emotion.

Jungkook steps beside you, his voice soft and steady as he whispers. "He's waiting for you, baby." His words calm you, giving you the courage you need to face what’s on the other side of the door. You glance at him, his warm eyes filled with reassurance, and you nod, summoning the strength to push forward. With trembling hands, you carefully push the door open and step inside.

There he is. Beomgyu. Sitting up in bed, his back resting against the headboard, alive and awake. The sight is almost surreal, a moment that feels too precious to be real.

He looks at you with a lopsided grin, his expression as cheeky and familiar as ever. "Long time no see, Your Highness." he quips, his tone lighthearted and playful, as if the last four years hadn't just been wiped away by a miracle.

Your breath catches, a soft laugh escaping you as tears well up in your eyes again. "Beomgyu..." you whisper, your voice breaking. The weight of the years, the pain, the hope... all of it rushes to the surface as you step closer, overwhelmed by the reality of seeing him awake.

You rush to his side, tears streaming freely down your cheeks as you throw your arms around him in a tight embrace. The warmth of his body against yours is enough to break down every last wall you'd built over the years.

You remember all the times you'd playfully swatted him away, rolled your eyes, or made a face every time he tried to hug you because back then, you liked to act like showing affection to your sibling was embarrassing.

But right now, there’s no hesitation, no second thought. Right now, you’ve never felt more alive.

“I missed you.” you sob, your voice muffled against his shoulder as you clutch him like you’re afraid he might slip away again. The tears come harder as the realization sinks in that this moment is real. He’s real. The long, agonizing wait is finally over.

Beomgyu chuckles softly, his voice steady yet laced with emotion. "Wow, I must really be a sight for sore eyes if you’re this clingy." he teases, though his arms wrap tightly around you, holding you just as fiercely. His familiar, playful tone only makes you cry harder.

"You idiot." you choke out, your voice trembling as you pull back just enough to look at him. Your hands cup his face, your thumbs brushing away the tears that now spill from his eyes too. "Don’t you dare scare me like that ever again. Do you hear me? Never again."

His grin softens, and he nods, his own tears mirroring yours. "I promise." he whispers, his voice quieter, more solemn now. "Never again."

Jungkook lingers near the doorway, a soft smile playing on his lips as he watches the reunion unfold. The raw emotion in your embrace, the way you cling to Beomgyu like he might vanish if you let go... it stirs something deep within him.

He knows how long you've waited for this moment, how often you spoke of it with a mixture of hope and pain. Seeing you finally experience it makes his heart swell with happiness for you.

But then, Jungkook freezes as Beomgyu's gaze shifts towards him. His eyes widen slightly, realizing that this is the first time Beomgyu is seeing him.

“Who’s... that?” Beomgyu asks, his voice curious but steady. His brows furrow slightly as he nods towards Jungkook. You turn to follow Beomgyu’s gaze, and when your eyes meet Jungkook’s, you can’t help but smile.

“That’s Jungkook.” you say softly, glancing back at your brother before looking at Jungkook again. There’s something tender in the way you say his name, something that makes Jungkook’s smile widen as he nods politely at Beomgyu.

Before anything else can be said, the doctor appears and Jungkook steps aside letting him in. “Ms. Choi.” the doctor greets with a warm smile. “Congratulations. It’s wonderful to see Beomgyu awake and responsive. However, we’ll need to run a few tests now, just to check his overall condition.”

You nod understandingly, brushing a stray tear from your cheek as you stand. “Of course... thank you, doctor.” you say, turning back to Beomgyu. You lean down to place a soft kiss on his forehead, your smile filled with a quiet reassurance. “I’ll be right outside, okay?”

Beomgyu nods, his grin still cheeky. “Don’t disappear. I need you to explain who that guy is and why he was looking at you with literal heart eyes.” he teases, his playful tone making you chuckle as you shake your head.

You glance at Jungkook, who’s scratching the back of his neck, looking a little flustered. “Behave.” you tell Beomgyu with a laugh before stepping outside with Jungkook, leaving your brother in the capable hands of the doctor.

As you settle into the metal chair right outside Beomgyu's room, beside Jungkook, the cold steel pressing against your back is a stark contrast to the warmth of his hand as it gently rests on your knee. His fingers squeeze lightly, offering some silent comfort.

You glance down at the way his hand fits so naturally on you and let out a small, tired smile. Placing your hand over his, your thumb begins to trace slow circles over his knuckles, grounding yourself in the quiet rhythm of the motion.

Your voice breaks the silence, soft but weighted. "Junghyun... he came to see me."

Jungkook’s brows knit together in confusion. “Junghyun? My brother?” he repeats, his tone disbelieving as he tries to process your words. You nod, your gaze shifting to the sterile white tiles of the hospital floor.

“Four months ago... he came to the kindergarten.” you admit, your voice faltering slightly. You exhale deeply, trying to steady yourself before diving into the painful memory.

The words spill out in fragments, raw and hesitant, as you recount the confrontation with Junghyun. You describe the way he appeared out of nowhere, his presence overbearing, his threats sharp and deliberate. You tell Jungkook how he used your brother's condition against you, twisting it into a weapon, leaving you cornered and helpless.

By the time you finish, the tension in Jungkook’s body is palpable. His jaw is clenched tight, and his fists curl against his knees. His breath is sharp as he mutters through gritted teeth, “That motherfucker…”

His reaction makes your chest tighten, a mixture of relief and guilt washing over you. He’s angry... angrier than you’ve ever seen him but you know it’s not directed at you. It’s the thought of his brother’s cruel manipulation, the pain you endured in silence, that has his blood boiling.

"I'll be right back." Jungkook says firmly, already standing up and walking away with purpose. Panic rises in your chest as you quickly catch up to him, already guessing where he’s headed. "Jungkook, no... wait, stop." you plead, reaching out to grab his arm.

He stops abruptly, turning to face you and holding your shoulders gently but firmly. His dark eyes lock onto yours, filled with resolve. "Y/n, just trust me." he says, his voice steady yet reassuring. "He won’t be able to do anything. I’ll make sure... I’ll make sure you and Beomgyu are safe. I promise."

You open your mouth to protest, but he shakes his head, cutting you off before the words can escape. "I need to put him in his place." he breathes out, his jaw tightening. "He needs to know he can’t talk to you like that. He needs to understand what you mean to me." His voice softens slightly, the tenderness in his gaze making your heart ache.

"Just stay here with Beomgyu." he continues, his tone resolute. "I’ll be back soon. I promise."

Before you can stop him, he steps closer, pressing a tender kiss on your forehead, his touch lingering like a silent vow. Then, without another word, he turns on his heels and strides down the hallway, his determination unwavering. You stand frozen, watching him disappear, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the quiet of the hospital.

//

Jungkook barges into his brother's home office, the door slamming against the wall with a loud bang. Junghyun glances up from his computer, a bemused expression on his face. "Oh, Jungkook? Didn’t expect you to visit on a Sunday. What brings you—"

His sentence is cut off abruptly as Jungkook strides over, grabbing his collar and yanking him to his feet. Before Junghyun can even process what’s happening, a powerful punch lands squarely on his cheek. He stumbles back, clutching his face in shock, but Jungkook doesn’t let him regain his footing.

With a growl of anger, Jungkook throws another punch, the impact snapping Junghyun’s head to the side. The metallic tang of blood fills the air as a crimson streak trickles from Junghyun's split lip.

"Jungkook!" Junghyun finally manages to shout, his voice laced with both pain and disbelief. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Jungkook doesn’t respond immediately, his chest heaving as he towers over his brother. His fists clench and unclench, the anger rolling off him in waves. "That’s for threatening Y/n." he snarls, his voice dangerously low. "You think you can mess with her? Intimidate her like that? Not while I’m here."

Junghyun glares at him, wiping the blood from his lip, his shock slowly giving way to a cold smirk. "So, this is about her?" he mutters, his tone mocking despite his obvious discomfort. "You’re letting your emotions cloud your judgment, Jungkook. How pathetic."

But Jungkook doesn’t flinch. Instead, he grabs Junghyun by the collar again, pulling him close. "Listen to me." he says through gritted teeth. "Stay away from her. If you ever even think about going near her or Beomgyu again, I swear, you’ll regret it."

Jungkook lets go of Junghyun with a forceful shove, sending him sprawling back into his chair. "All this for a girl like her? Really Jungkook?" Junghyun scoffs, his tongue poking the inside of cheek. "You have no idea what she means to me." Jungkook says lowly, glaring at his brother.

Jungkook’s jaw tightens, his fists still clenched at his sides. His voice drops to a low, dangerous tone. "You have no idea what she means to me." he says, his glare unwavering. "And you never will."

Junghyun chuckles bitterly, his face twisted in disdain, but before he can retort, Jungkook steps closer, his presence commanding. "Do you think Dad’s going to be proud when he hears what you’ve been up to?" Jungkook asks, his words sharp and deliberate.

Junghyun’s smirk falters ever so slightly. "You think he’ll be okay with you going around threatening people? Manipulating them? Using fear to get your way?" Jungkook continues, his voice rising slightly. "You’re the pathetic one, hyung."

He pauses, letting his words sink in, then laughs... a dry, humorless sound. "And you know what’s really pathetic? That you thought I wouldn’t find out. That you thought I’d just let it slide."

Junghyun’s jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing, but he stays silent, his confidence clearly shaken. Jungkook steps back, his glare never leaving his brother. "This is your last warning. Stay away from her. Stay away from Beomgyu. Because if you don’t..." He leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. "You won’t just have Dad to deal with. You’ll have me."

Without waiting for a response, Jungkook straightens up and strides out of the office, slamming the door behind him, leaving Junghyun to stew in his own discomfort and rising dread.

//

As you help Beomgyu inside your house, he pauses for a moment, letting his eyes wander around the familiar space. His gaze lands on the corner of the room, behind the couch, and a smirk tugs at his lips. "You still haven't gotten rid of that weird vase?" he teases, pointing at the decorative piece.

You roll your eyes, shutting the door behind you. "That's never gonna happen." you reply with a shrug, playfully glaring at him.

He shakes his head in mock disapproval before taking a seat on the couch. The cold fabric causes him to shiver slightly, but he leans back, closing his eyes. "Well... it's good to be back." he murmurs, exhaling deeply.

You stand there for a moment, watching him. Your heart feels so full it could burst. It almost seems unreal... having him here, in your home, after all this time. "Let me cook you some jjajangmyeon." you suggest, breaking the silence.

His eyes snap open, a grin spreading across his face. "Oh my god, how did you know I was craving exactly that?" he asks, his tone amused. "It's a sibling thing." you reply with a wink, heading into the kitchen.

As you start preparing the ingredients, your thoughts inevitably drift to Jungkook, especially since you haven't heard from him ever since he left you at the hospital. You can’t help but wonder how he’s handling the situation with Junghyun. The thought of it makes your stomach churn slightly, but you push the anxiety aside.

"So, where’s your little boyfriend?" Beomgyu's voice interrupts your thoughts, his teasing tone carrying from the living room. A shy smile tugs at your lips, but you don’t respond immediately. "Come on..." he continues, his footsteps drawing closer until he’s leaning casually against the kitchen counter.

"I was in a damn coma for four years, and my bitchless sister finally manages to pull someone, and I don’t even get a proper introduction?"

You snort at his choice of words. "Oh, come on, Gyu." you reply, turning to face him with a mock exasperated look. "I’ll introduce you when the time’s... right." He sighs, clearly unimpressed with your answer. "The time’s right when I say it is." he quips, but his grin betrays the affection behind the teasing.

Beomgyu arches a brow at the sudden sound of the doorbell, his smirk widening with curiosity. "Is that who I think it is?" he quips, leaning back against the counter with an air of playful arrogance.

You glance at him, wide-eyed and suddenly flustered. You smile at him briefly before you quickly make your way to the door, your heart thudding in anticipation. The moment you open it, time seems to still. There stands Jungkook, bathed in the soft glow of the porch light, his presence radiating comfort and confidence. His smile is subtle yet powerful, a silent reassurance that everything is under control.

You step outside, quietly closing the door behind you, shielding the moment from your brother's prying gaze. You fidget with your fingers as words evade you. "So...?" you finally manage, your voice trailing off.

Jungkook doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he steps forward, closing the space between you. His arms encircle you in a gentle, protective embrace, his warmth instantly melting away your apprehensions. "I punched him." he says at last, his voice tinged with triumph.

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you pull back just enough to search his face. "What?" you ask, your voice rising an octave in disbelief.

"I punched him." he repeats, a satisfied grin tugging at his lips. "Right in the face. You should’ve seen him... completely caught off guard. Like...there's no way he actually had the nerve to mess with my girl."

A mix of shock and amusement washes over you as you lightly smack his chest. "Jungkook! That’s not something to be proud of." you admonish, though the corners of your mouth twitch with an unwilling smile. "Violence isn’t the answer."

His smirk deepens as he tilts his head, his dark eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, but in his case, it is."

You shake your head, exhaling a laugh despite yourself. "What am I gonna do with you?" you murmur, your tone caught between exasperation and fondness.

Jungkook’s expression softens, the teasing glimmer in his eyes replaced by an intensity that makes your breath hitch. "Y/N..." he begins, his voice low and steady. "You don’t have to worry anymore. I’ll take care of everything... you, Beomgyu. You’ll both be safe. I promise."

His words hit you hard, the depth of his sincerity leaving you momentarily speechless. He steps even closer, his hands gently cupping your face as his thumbs brush against your cheeks. "I promise you, no one will ever hurt you again. Not while I’m here." he vows, his tone resolute, his gaze locking onto yours.

You nod, your chest swelling with a sense of safety you hadn’t realized you were yearning for. "Just promise me..." he continues, his voice softening. "if anything ever happens again, you’ll tell me. Right away. No hiding, no secrets."

A lump forms in your throat as you nod again, unable to find the words to express the gratitude and trust coursing through you. Jungkook smiles faintly, the tension easing from his features, and he pulls you into another embrace. His arms wrap around you like a fortress, his chin resting lightly atop your head.

"I missed you." you whisper, your voice muffled against his chest.

"I missed you too." he murmurs, his voice filled with emotion as he tightens his hold on you. "More than you know."

After a few long moments, you pull back, your eyes meeting his as the world seems to shrink down to just the two of you. His gaze flickers to your lips, and before you can even register it, he leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips.

The kiss is tender yet fervent, each movement brimming with unspoken emotions. You feel his love, his promise, and his unwavering devotion in the way his lips meld with yours, leaving no room for doubt that this is where you belong. The porch, the cool evening air, the distant sounds of the world... all of it fades into oblivion as you lose yourself in him.

It's as if a colossal weight has finally been lifted from your shoulders, allowing you to breathe freely for the first time in what feels like forever. In this fleeting, surreal moment, the world fades away, leaving only the steady rhythm of your heart and the warmth surrounding you.

Everything about this feels inexplicably right , the way he kisses you, the way his arms embrace you, the way his presence steadies your storm. You feel complete, as though the jagged pieces of your soul have found their perfect fit. You feel whole again.

"Umm, sooo sorry to interrupt the lovebirds." Beomgyu’s voice drawls out, cutting through the tender moment. You and Jungkook both pull apart and turn your heads sharply, only to see him mischievously peeking out of the window right beside the front door. “But, Y/n, your brother, who just got out of a coma, is really, really hungry and would love for you to finish cooking the jjajangmyeon you promised him.”

You roll your eyes, a flush creeping up your cheeks as Jungkook stifles a laugh. "And, of course..." Beomgyu continues, his grin widening. “He’d absolutely love to finally meet your boyfriend.” He emphasizes the last word, wagging his eyebrows dramatically at Jungkook, who chuckles deeply at your brother's antics.

You groan, covering your face in Jungkook’s chest as he wraps an arm protectively around you, his shoulders shaking with laughter. “Gyu, you’re unbelievable.” you mumble, your voice muffled.

Beomgyu shrugs nonchalantly. “Hey, priorities, okay? Food first, making out later.” he teases, shooting a mock salute before disappearing back into the house after shutting the window down.

Jungkook looks down at you, his smile soft and amused. “I like him.” he says with a chuckle. You pull back slightly, playfully glaring at him. “Don’t encourage him.” you warn, though the smile tugging at your lips betrays your amusement.

“Come on.” Jungkook says, planting a quick kiss on your forehead. “Let’s go… we can't have your brother starving.” he says.

You laugh, grabbing his hand as the two of you step back inside. The warmth of your house envelops you, and for the first time in forever, you feel okay.

Beomgyu’s playful voice fills the air as he grins from the couch, the sibling bond you thought you’d lost now brighter than ever. Jungkook squeezes your hand, his steady presence a reminder that the hardest days are now way behind you.

In the kitchen, surrounded by laughter and the aroma of cooking, you glance at Jungkook. His soft smile says everything words can’t, filling your heart with a quiet peace.

For the first time in months, you’re not just surviving... you’re actually living. With Beomgyu back where he belongs and Jungkook by your side, your heart feels complete, wrapped in the comforting truth that this... this is what home is meant to feel like.

[bighitfics]

jungkook oneshots that I will keep re-reading till the end of time!

(a much needed recommendation) ִ ࣪𖤐

The Broken Vow ୨ৎ by @lleldey

— major angst, teeny bit of fluff, yandere husband jungkook.

(this is an eight star, no doubt! i’ve read it nine times already)

When She Loved Me ✦ by @jungkookstatts

— angst, fluff, and more angst, triple the angst.

(reading this is like drinking poisoned honey, this has to be both my villain origin story & guilty pleasure fic)

Champange Confetti ִ ࣪𖤐 by @pennyellee

— dark romance, smut, porn with plot, 90s.

(gawd this was the perfect blend of everything and the accurate references of the 90s just made it more perfect than it already is)

I Love You Too ✧₊⁺ by @smileyoongle

— therapist!jk, found family, angst, healing, second chances.

(sceaming, blushing, giggling, sliding down the door, he’s so disgustingly sweet in this!) 😮‍💨🤌🏼

Unwaveringly Forever ⭑ by @loststarxox

— alcoholic jk, self destructive, healing/comfort, established relationship, found family <3 (i have a soft spot for this jungkook, this precious being must be protected at all cost! ps : he’s lowkey segci asf in this from the way he clings to her, to needing her by his side all the time even tho he’s drunk as hell *sighs* my dream man)

Slow And Steady ౨ৎ by @yoonia

— painter jungkook, infidelity, smut, angst.

(this women never misses with her 10/10 plotline, her ridiculous 100/10 writing skills & her ability to bring the scenes alive! mad talent)

Tempest ⭑.ᐟ by @kooktrash

— yandere boyfriend, romance, established relationship.

(obsessed is an understatement, she writes jk the best)

Fifth Wish ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ by @jiminrings

— bodyguard!au, fake dating, angst, fluff.

(this is girl breakfast, girl lunch and girl dinner! i can scream ab it all day!)

Kaiho 𓍯𓂃 by @99liners

— marriage au, age gap, controlling husband jk, trophy wife reader. (screaming, wailing, barking for toxic tsundere husband jk. i need therapy ya’ll)

What was I made for? ☽ by @spideyjimin

— strangers to lovers, soldier jungkook, angst, fluff.

(he’s so dreamy in this, oh how i pray to be loved like this)

Stars Behind Waves 𓇼 by @taegularities

— estranged best friends to lovers, fluff, smut.

(im wordless, this was too good to be true)

Rock God ⊹ ˖ by @venusjeon

— 80s au, angst, smut, humour, fluff, s2f2l.

(such a refreshing plotline, writing is top tier!)

Definition Of Love 𐙚 by @sparklingchim

— established relationship, fluff, smut.

(if there was one fic i could hug i’d hug this one)

Secret Crime ⋆⑅˚₊ by @kimnjss

— fwb (with feelings), smut, angst.

(the smut was so well executed, it got me all heated)

Night After Night ⊹₊ ⋆ by @brown-bi-beautiful

— fuckboy jungkook, exes to lovers, cute simp (red flag) jungkook.

(literally seven mv storyline executed and written in the best way possible i read it a countless time, tbh she did it even better!)

have a good read girlies <3

follow for more.

[luumiinaa]

…and the cycle continues 😔

listening to “Top or Cliff by Sejeong” while reading the last part, hits the feels. Especially at the chorus and bridge of her song. Like damn. In my pov, i think the song (the lyrical interpretation) matches this scenario well. “Staying on top needing no one else masked under indifference, yet you’re secretly on the cliff of loneliness.

Sensing & Feeling

Donghyuck ft Dream members

PAIRING. Donghyuck!deaf x Reader!siren

Synopsis. You’re on edge when a group of boys trespass and attempt to steal from your charming lake of riches. You know that with your sound and song, they’ll easily get captivated and drown with your tunes being the last thing they hear. However this time, your song fails to work on one. With no fear, he looks you straight in the eyes and doesn’t fret. He’s allured and fascinated by you, and so are you. For the first time in so long, you hear a beat in your heart and you think you’ve fallen in love.

WC. 7k

Playlist. .Welcome to my world Aespa instrumental. If I want you DDG instrumental. Ludwig Gorranssom. Sirens LMM Hwasa

They’re being watched.

Donghyuck stops in his tracks, turning around to have a look at the forest again. Even if he can’t hear, he can see. And the rest of his senses are sharp enough to tell that somebody or something is watching them, following there every move. Peering around the colorful rosy thick leaf evergreen forest, with its wild green wilderness, Donghyuck tries to get his eyes away from the captivating and alluring beauty trying to search or even find the source that’s making him feel uncomfortable.

Keep reading

[ohnonotnow]

my library

here's some of the best the hobbit/lotr fanfics I've read cuz they can be quite hard to find and I wanna help

will update the list as I read

Thorin

Smoke, iron and Thorin

Fire and Gold

Learning Khuzdul

Braid of Gold

Thorin being soft

The Beauty of Chance

Those Hands

Misunderstanding

The arrival

A king's crown

Covered In Steam

There's just inches in between us

Thorin after a long day of training with his nephews

In This Moment 

Agreement

Symphony of your life

Oh so quiet

Confession

Find Your Way Back

Fili

fili oneshots

Moonrise

The Most Unpleasant, Defective, and Abominable Incident

Stay with me

The Redeemer

Durin's Garage

Restless

Lost My Way

Kili

The book keeper

insecurities

The beauty and the Beast

getting back at Kili for teasing

My Treasure

Madly in love

It's in his kiss

Love Bites

Sway With Me

Wood Carvings

Softly. . .

Sweet like nectar

A Shot in the Dark

Beorn

Early Mornings

Beorn takes care of you when you're injured

Linger

Legolas

Watcher of Wanderers

The Innocence of Brutality

Blessing

Sensitive

Being best friends with Legolas

Hazy Memories

Spellbound

Thranduil

Bookworm

Relax

Best friends father

Fascination

Flower On My Skin

To Meet Under the Stars

Passenger Princess

Autumn Thunderstorm

I Could Love You With My Eyes Closed

Haldir

Gentle Dark

Lindir

My Heart Is In Your Hands

Moonlight

Just a Little Help

Warriors Great Tales

The Fountain

Return to Me

Èomer

Burnt Bread

A Helping Hand

Wildest Dreams

Falling In Love With A Librarian

SFW alphabet

Happiness

A Roll in the Hay

Blessing

Turning Points

More characters

various characters oneshots

Imagine: elves having highly sensitive ears and you finding out by accidently touching them.

Journey to Erebor

Hair braiding

Elves + Braiding

What Type of Kisser is Each LoTR Character?

The Hobbit Characters + Physical Affection (Suggestive Version)

A Headcanon For Each Member of Thorin’s Company

Cuddling With Thorin's Company

Imagine some of the elves of Middle Earth find out how easy it is to make you (a human staying in Rivendell) blush and become aroused.

The LOTR characters reacting to a modern reader

[lynnimini]

₊⊹ 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘥 𝘤𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘥 ₊⊹

description: fluff ⋆ university au ⋆ fuckboy taesan turned loser

in which fuckboy turned loser taesan finds himself unexpectedly chasing after a sweet and innocent girl he met at a party

pairings: h. taesan x afab!reader

words: 4.6k

warnings: mildly suggestive ⋆ cussing ⋆ mentions of alcohol & sex

author’s note: hiii it’s lynn again!! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) this oneshot is partially inspired by nct dream’s japanese song “stupid cupid” so i strongly recommend that you listen to it while reading (ㅅ´ ˘ `) happy reading !!

tags: @onedoornet

the arrow of love accidentally pierced me

"i'm not going."

taesan groaned and refused to move as jaehyun and leehan pulled his arm insistently to get him off the bed, miserably failing in their attempts to drag taesan to yet another party.

"since when do you of all people say no to parties"

jaehyun scoffed and crossed his arms while taesan glared back at him.

"i wanna have fun instead of being your guys' dd again. i go to parties with you guys and don't even get to drink let alone get laid"

he complained, waving his hands back and forth as leehan sprayed cologne all over the place, obviously bored with the way things were going with jaehyun's horrible attempt at persuading taesan to come.

"you don't have to be dd so pleaseeee come with us. it's literally walking distance to the other building"

jaehyun resorted to begging, dropping to his knees and holding his hands together in front of taesan. taesan just scoffed in amusement before looking at leehan.

"no dd?"

leehan shook his head in response, ceasing his cologne attacks. taesan let out a light sigh, stretching his arms before getting up off the bed.

"dress code is formal"

jaehyun shouted excitedly before running to the other room to grab his own outfit he brought to taesan's dorm.

taesan rummaged through his closet and found a black collared shirt with dress pants. he had no clue who chose the party theme but silently thanked them for giving him an excuse to wear that one shirt that emphasized his arm muscles perfectly.

"pregame~"

jaehyun sang as he came back holding three shot glasses and some soju, quickly pouring it before handing one to each person.

"to jaehyun hopefully getting laid tonight"

leehan toasted as jaehyun shamelessly seconded the wish.

'hopefully me too if these fuckers don't ruin it again'

taesan thought to himself as they all clinked shot glasses, downing them as fast as jaehyun poured them. the three sighed as the familiar slight fuzzy feeling coursed through their veins.

"okay let's go ladies !!"

jaehyun excitedly ushered everyone out the door, practically dragging taesan out of his own home.

"i need want a girl"

jaehyun whined the entire way there, leehan silently shaking his head at his desperation while taesan exasperatedly sighed.

"you say this and fumble every time because of how drunk you get. you think you'd learn after how many times it happened"

taesan shook his head as he raised his hand to ring the doorbell. he didn't even get near it before the door swung open and the most beautiful girl he's ever seen stepped out.

"oh shit it’s freezing- oh sorry, i opened the door kinda fast didn’t i? but hey, welcome in"

you looked up with a smile at the three boys, nodding briefly before stepping outside to go to your car and grab more drinks.

jaehyun and leehan excitedly went in, taesan following suit shortly after looking back to get a good look at you. not being able to see much since it was so dark out, he just went inside to make himself a drink.

taesan forgot about you for a while, instead drinking and hanging out with other people he recognized at the party. he stayed with sungho and riwoo, his upperclassman friends from his class.

"oh y/n!"

sungho called you over and waved after seeing you finally put all the drinks on the counter. you gave him a bright smile and waved back, carefully walking over while avoiding bumping into other people.

"hey guys, how's the party?"

you asked with a slight giggle as you gave sungho a side hug, already a little tipsy from the fruity cocktail you held.

"it's great y/n. glad to see you're finally loosening up"

sungho joked as you nudged his shoulder lightly. taesan just watched your guys' interaction, mostly focusing on you. he recognized you as the one who swung open the door, and he finally got to take a good look at you in better lighting.

you were much shorter than him and wearing a tight, navy blue dress that hugged all your curves so perfectly. your hair was curled and had tiny blue bows in it to match your dress. you had glittery makeup that made you glow even more when you smiled.

it was simple: taesan couldn't keep his eyes off you. and not in the normal 'she's so bad' kinda way. he fell in love on sight.

"he's kidding, i'm actually the one who introduced him to all our regulars who throw parties"

you smiled at taesan with a hint of worry in your eyes at how dazed he seemed. taesan snapped out of it and nodded back at you.

"oh? did you two already know each other?"

riwoo asked in slight surprise, becoming even more amused when the two of you shook your heads. he'd been observing the entire thing, and could clearly see taesan was unusually interested in you.

"oh my gosh, i'm so sorry. i haven't even introduced myself yet. i'm y/n"

you smiled brightly and stuck a hand out for taesan to shake and he took it delicately, squeezing it gently. you just missed the faint blush spreading on the back of his neck before he covered it up with his hand.

"i'm taesan. i think i've seen you around campus. nursing major right?"

you adopted a look of surprise and nodded.

"yeah, how'd you know??"

"your pretty face isn't exactly forgettable, you know"

you froze up in shock at how bold taesan was being for someone you just met. taesan felt like he wanted to die at the corny line.

usually fuckboy taesan was more pulled together and could say stuff like that easily, but around you? he had no idea what had gotten into him.

sungho and riwoo just stared in astonishment at the clear flirting happening between the two of you

"sungho and i are gonna go out to the car real quick. we'll be right back"

riwoo said all of a sudden, pointedly smirking at taesan before dragging sungho off to sit outside for a bit. you watched with slight shock as the two quickly darted through the crowd to get outside, turning your attention back to an equally flustered taesan.

"okay anyways mr. stalker, i haven't seen you around campus. what's your major?"

you asked as you gestured towards the counter, offering to make taesan a drink. he quickly downed the little beer he had left and followed you.

"i'm a kines major. i saw you a couple times when preparing for the sports clinic event"

"ooh so we might be working together soon for the sports clinic event soon?"

you turned to look at him, smiling as you handed him a fruity pink cocktail. taesan looked down and smiled slightly at the glitter coating the rim, praying that it was edible as he took the glass from your hand. he didn't miss the way your hand lingered on his before fully handing it over.

"yeah, and i might be the patient with how sweet this drink looks"

taesan looked at you teasingly as he gestured to the glittery drink, making you giggle as he took a sip.

"how is it?"

"good. it's not too sweet for me, thank goodness"

taesan nodded and you let out a little sigh of relief, a smile spreading on your face as you sipped your own drink.

"so anyways, are you a lightweight?

before you two knew it, you had migrated to the couch to have an actual conversation, taking more than enough twisted teas with you.

"fuck no. bet i could drink more than you"

taesan snorted, looking at your mock offense as you gasped.

"you're on"

you grinned as you clinked cocktail glasses with him, preparing for a long night of drinking with someone new.

"so how'd you get to know sungho and riwoo?"

taesan looked at you while passing a can of twisted tea, clinking your guys' cans together while you thought of how you guys met.

"we met in one of my classes last year. those two basically took me into their friend group and watched over me since i didn't know anyone, and we got close that way. and you?"

"they're kines majors too, so we work together a lot. they're hella cool people"

you hummed and nodded in agreement.

at first it was just small talk and getting to know each other, but it quickly escalated to faint touches and obvious flirting. at least on taesan's part.

"we should meet up sometime to go eat"

taesan turned his head to look at you, both of you sitting sloppily on the couch, already pretty tipsy. you giggled and looked at him.

"i'd like that. wanna go out to eat something together?"

you kept giggling, slurring your words as you reached to clutch taesan's arm for stability before pulling away, laying down in the process. he didn't miss the way you trailed your nails down his forearm before pulling away.

"of course. make it a date?

taesan finished off his can of twisted tea before looking back at you, eyes getting heavy as he reached to interlock his fingers with yours.

before you could even say anything, taesan passed out right next to you. you shot up and checked to see if he was okay before lying back down next to him, laughing nonstop at how ridiculous the situation was.

as if on cue, jaehyun and leehan stumbled into the living room and saw taesan passed out next to you.

"did this loser actually fall asleep?"

leehan snorted as you giggled, shaking your head and clearly having no idea what was actually going on. jaehyun just laughed and worked to drag taesan up and out.

"thanks for hosting y/n. it was fun"

jaehyun gave you a smile and wave before putting taesan on his back. as the three left, your roommate came into the room with a smirk as she picked you up and brought you to your room.

"oh pretty girl, we're gonna have a fun talk tomorrow"

chaeryeong scoffed, an amused smile spreading across her lips as you smacked your lips and smiled contently as you fell asleep.

girl you got me crazy, blame it on stupid cupid

taesan woke up the next morning feeling like absolute shit. he got up to go get water from the kitchen and saw jaehyun sitting at the counter, looking like he was also dying of a fat headache.

"hey"

jaehyun croaked out as he passed taesan a packet of liquid iv and a plate of pancakes.

"hey. did u get anyone's number this time?"

taesan asked as customary after a party, with jaehyun groaning and shaking his head as usual.

"i saw you talking it up with y/n though"

jaehyun teased and a slight smile appeared on taesan's face. before he could say anything, leehan ran into the room.

"you're talking to y/n? of all people you chose y/n??"

leehan said a little too loudly, causing the other two to clutch their heads and hurriedly shush him for how loud he was being.

"what's wrong with y/n? you know her or something?"

taesan's eyebrows furrowed and jaehyun nodded in agreement.

"nothing's wrong with y/n. but you?? and y/n?? mister fuckboy taesan trying to get in the pants of the nicest person in the world??"

leehan questioned as taesan looked taken aback.

"who said i wanted to get in her pants? and why are you so shocked in the first place?"

leehan sighed and took a fat swig of jaehyun's water, ignoring jaehyun's protests.

"y/n doesn't seem like the type of girl you can fuck around with for fun. she gives off the vibe of looking for a genuine relationship"

leehan explained as jaehyun snatched his water back and chugged the rest.

"well good because i actually like her"

taesan scoffed as jaehyun spat out the water across the kitchen island.

"WHAT."

leehan and jaehyun both turned to taesan with the most incredulous looks in their eyes. taesan looked at them and scoffed.

"is it that hard to believe i can like someone?"

"yes."

"dude you're literally the epitome of an emo fuckboy."

"okay rude. maybe not like her, but i'm interested"

taesan rolled his eyes while the other two collected themselves and laughed.

"you and y/n as a couple would be insane"

leehan cackled as he walked out of the room, jaehyun's own laughs quieting as he cleaned up the water.

"whatever. see you in class tomorrow"

taesan glared at jaehyun, going back to the guest room to grab his stuff, promptly leaving to go to his own apartment.

24/7 like a party ... it's going to go out of control, heartbeat

for the next couple days, taesan miraculously saw you everywhere. sure, he'd seen you around campus once or twice, but now? you were popping up around every corner every second of the day, and taesan was going insane.

"bro why do you keep staring at that fountain? it’s the middle of winter. it’s not even running"

jaehyun complained as he looked over at the fountain and saw absolutely nothing. taesan shook out of his daze and turned back to jaehyun.

"just spacing out"

he shrugged and jaehyun gave him a weird look, continuing whatever he was talking about while taesan stayed dazed.

"is that y/n?"

leehan suddenly said and taesan whipped his head towards the fountain again. but you weren't there.

"holy shit he wants her bad"

jaehyun and leehan started laughing as taesan just groaned and put his head in his hands.

"i've been seeing her around here every day and i swear i've never even seen her here before that party. should've gotten her number"

taesan muttered as he lifted his head to look at the two, who were the ones staring at the fountain this time.

"i think you manifested y/n's appearance"

leehan laughed and jaehyun waved at taesan, motioning him to go over to you.

"go talk to her and get her number loverboy"

he hissed and taesan hesitated. seeing you weren't with friends or anything today, he decided to go over before you left.

it's going to be bad if you keep going like this

"y/n?"

you looked up to see taesan walking towards you, acting all surprised that you were there as if he hadn't seen you there for a whole week straight.

"oh hey, taesan right? good to see you again"

you smiled as taesan came to a stop right in front of you.

"how's the clinic been going for you? i haven't seen you around so i guess we didn't sign up for the same shifts or something?"

taesan asked and your smile dropped a little. you really thought you'd see taesan at the clinic sessions, and not seeing him until now made your unusual encounter all the more nerve racking.

"it's been a lot of fun working with my classmates and meeting the kines majors"

your bright smile came back and taesan couldn't help but smile back at you.

"that's great, they're all really good people. um, well, i was wondering if-"

"Y/N!"

you whipped your head around to see sungho calling your name and waving at you. you smiled and waved back while taesan also waved awkwardly.

"oh hey taesan. y/n and i were about to go shopping around the area. wanna join us?"

sungho invited and taesan shook his head.

"i just came over to say hi real quick. jaehyun and leehan are over there waiting for me anyways"

he gestured towards his friends, and you and sungho both nodded in understanding.

"well, bye taesan"

you reached to give taesan's arm a quick, gentle squeeze as you walked by. sungho smirked at the sight as he gave taesan a pat on the back, unknowingly having ruined taesan's attempt to get your number.

taesan walked like a dejected puppy back to his friends who were eagerly waiting to hear the story by this point.

"i got cockblocked and didn't get her number"

he groaned and buried his face in his hands while the other two looked on and laughed.

"never in my life did i think taesan was a loser until now"

leehan chuckled as he calmed down, jaehyun still dying and fighting for his life while taesan continued to look dejected.

all taesan could think about is what that touch on the arm meant. was it casual? did you already pick up on the fact that he liked you? did you reciprocate? he was completely confused.

"watch, i'm gonna get her number soon"

taesan declared as he got up and started walking to his next class after bidding the two goodbye.

"wanna bet that he isn't gonna get it by the time the week is over"

"bet he is"

"$20?"

"you're on"

is it bad? is it good?

taesan was able to poke his head around the clinic to visit you under the pretense of visiting his other kines major friends.

and every. single. time. you drove taesan crazy with the subtle touches you would give in response to his poor flirting.

at first it started simple with a little squeeze of the hand or arm, but then it escalated to interlocking your fingers together while you had a conversation.

taesan thought it was cute with the way you played with his fingers while he talked, but also? it set his heart on fire and he lost his train of thought the moment he felt you rub your thumb against the palm of his hand.

"um, taesan?"

you questioned in response to his silence, to which taesan shook out of his daze and kept yapping about what kines majors do.

taesan thought he was fumbling bad. he stuttered constantly, ears flushed whenever you gave him one of your light touches, and was visibly shaking when you held his hand. the boy was so worried that he was gonna scare you off just by coming off so awkward.

i don't know what to do

“what the fuck”

riwoo woke up to an obnoxious taesan banging on the door, to which he scrambled to open it as soon as possible.

“what’s wrong?”

riwoo croaked out as he saw taesan’s panicked face.

“i think i’m fumbling y/n”

he breathed out as he walked in and collapsed on the couch, a confused riwoo following behind him after shutting the door.

“what did you do”

riwoo collapsed next to him, grabbing a pillow and shutting his eyes while preparing to listen to taesan’s rant.

“i don’t even know but i’ve been hella nervous around her and stuttering and i still haven’t asked for her number and she’s been all touchy with me and i’m scared of what she thinks of me i’m so confused”

taesan said all at once while riwoo stayed silent to process it all.

“wait so are you really interested in something real with her?”

riwoo opened his eyes and admitted defeat since he couldn’t go back to sleep with a yapping taesan.

taesan’s eyebrows furrowed before nodding slightly.

“well thank goodness because she’s not the type to fuck around. anyways, if she’s been touchy and not dry then i think that means you’re okay no? y/n plays dumb but she’s not naive. if she’s acting like that then she’s probably interested too”

riwoo concluded before thinking for a bit again.

“just start by getting her number. i don’t know why you think it’s so hard after having an entire catalog of girls’ numbers, but start by deleting all those if you want something serious. and be good to her. that girl’s my ride or die”

riwoo yawned as he ushered taesan out the door.

“you really think i can get her number?”

“positive, you fucking loser”

riwoo teased as taesan rolled his eyes, taking a deep breath before walking down to find y/n at the clinic again.

he saw you standing in the doorway preparing to take a patient in for a flu shot. you glanced up and gave taesan a small smile before closing the door for the patient’s privacy.

taesan’s heart was racing a mile a minute as he sat and waited for you to be done in the room. he took a while to calm his heart down and steel up his nerves, but he did over the course of the 20 minutes you were gone.

“taesan? what are you doing here?”

taesan jumped slightly at the sound of your voice, not realizing you had walked the patient out already and stood in front of him.

“i came to say hi, maybe ask if you wanted to get lunch or something?”

taesan tried to be as nonchalant as possible while he said that, but the rosy blush on his cheeks gave him away. you couldn’t help the small smile that spread to the corners of your lips.

“i’d love to! just let me get changed really quick”

you grabbed your tote bag and ran off to the dressing room to change as soon as possible. taesan laughed lightly at how you seemed so excited to go eat after probably 6 hours at the clinic.

“ready?”

taesan stood up the moment he saw you come out and you smiled and nodded.

“i was thinking we could walk to somewhere around campus. you craving anything specific?”

taesan looked at you while you two walked and you thought for a minute before looking up at him.

“i’ve kinda been craving udon”

you admitted and taesan looked at you as if you were the most perfect person in the world. udon? in the middle of winter?? with a beautiful girl??? taesan was practically on cloud 9.

“sounds perfect to me”

taesan smiled and you two walked together down to the little area on campus full of restaurants and little shops. the two of you sat down in a small booth and taesan could barely keep eye contact with you. he thanked god that you decided to sit opposite of him or else you would’ve felt the seat shake from how much he was trembling.

“do you have any classes after this?”

you suddenly asked and taesan shook his head.

“do you?”

you sadly nodded your head.

“i have psych in 2 hours so we can still stay here and talk for a good while”

you smiled as you looked at taesan and he couldn’t help but mirror your smile too. the sweet waitress came back with your guys’ bowls of udon, so the conversation quieted for a while, with some small talk and jokes scattered in between bites.

“thank you for coming to see me and taking me to get lunch”

you said happily as you took the check from the waitress’s hands, smile dropping when you saw that the bill was paid for entirely.

“taesan what the hell? you didn’t have to pay for lunch. i can pay you back”

you hurriedly opened your purse until taesan stopped you and shook his head.

“i asked you to lunch so i’m gonna pay. don’t even worry about it”

he said as he guided you to stand up and walk outside. you had a slight frown on your lips, feeling guilty for not having contributed at all.

“let me pay for lunch next time though, please?”

you pleaded with taesan and he looked at you skeptically before laughing and nodding.

“give me your number so we can plan another lunch date?”

you smirked and raised your eyebrows at that, but put your number in taesan’s phone nonetheless.

“you’re not slick han taesan, i see you”

you laughed and taesan looked away in slight embarrassment before laughing with you. in reality, taesan’s heart was bursting with joy, but he wasn’t about to let you know that he was freaking out inside.

“i’ll walk you to class. it’s on the way to the dorms anyways”

taesan looked at you and said, making you smile at him gratefully.

“at least it’s a short walk. ready to go?”

you snaked your arm around taesan’s, holding it close while you two walked back to campus.

“i had a lot of fun talking to you today. i’ve been wondering if you were ever gonna reach out after we talked at my party”

you admitted as you two walked back to school. taesan scoffed in an attempt to hide how happy he was that you reciprocated.

“i had a lot of fun talking to you then too. i wanted to talk to you more but i didn’t have your number”

taesan said as he reached a hand up to cover the blush on his neck. it didn’t go unnoticed by you but you didn’t mention it.

“well you do now. i gotta go but text me whenever so we can go on a longer date next time taesan”

you gave taesan’s arm one final squeeze with a sweet smile before disappearing into the lecture room, slowly disappearing from taesan’s line of sight.

the moment taesan couldn’t see you anymore, he started smiling so widely he thought his cheeks were gonna stretch out.

“bro she’s so sweet and so cute and i finally got her number”

taesan yapped all about you to jaehyun and leehan, who were less than happy to listen but also happy for you. they loved you like a sister and were happy it was taesan of all people who liked you enough to change his fuckboy ways.

however, things usually happen in more ways than one, don’t they? as they say, all’s fair in love and war.

blame it on stupid cupid

“chaer?”

you woke up on the night of your party and rubbed your eyes to find your roommate basically trembling with excitement to hear the story of you and taesan.

“girl you gotta tell me everything that happened between you guys”

chaeryeong jumped onto your bed and waited eagerly to hear the story.

“nothing even happened. he’s just really sweet and wanted to get to know me a little. was too drunk to get my number though”

you said simply, hoping that chaeryeong wouldn’t question it, but she did.

“what do you mean he didn’t get your number? you’re SO FINE i would’ve asked immediately”

she complained and you shrugged. all of a sudden she shot up, startling you in the process.

“fuck no y/n, this is operation ‘get you with taesan’ time”

chaeryeong said and you groaned, not bothering to hide your amused smile.

“lay it on me. what’s your amazing plan chaer?”

“GIRL OKAY so you need to walk by these places every day. taesan passes by them pretty often. i see him all the time walking to class so make HIM come to YOU”

she huffed proudly after she finished her speech and you clapped sarcastically.

“i can try. we also have clinic together so maybe he can ask for my number then too”

“also make sure to touch his shoulder or something. guys are like, from the victorian era. they’ll take ANYTHING as a sign so long as you give it to them”

you weren’t that confident taesan was even interested in you like that, but seeing the way he looked for you every time you passed by the fountain made you wanna keep teasing him by simply passing by.

the moment he actually came up to you was the moment you knew you got him. and so, the actual mastermind behind you and taesan progressing was none other than lee chaeryeong.

girl you got me crazy, blame it on stupid cupid

[domm1etae]

OKAY WAIT HEAR ME OUT I JS HAD A IDEA. In honor of ateez nee comeback obviously.. the lyrics “you the one im tryna finish” HELLO?

SO! Yunho smut, where he js comes home from preforming the new somg, still in his suit.. then you rant abt the mv.. AND JT LEADS TO EATING U OUT!

“you the one im tryna finish”

you the one im tryna finish

yunho x f!reader

oneshot | mdni

1.4k

Yunho walks in fresh off the stage looking like sin in a suit, and one thing leads to another..

nsfw tags under

m/f, dom yunho, boyfriend!yunho, sub reader, post-performance, smut, oral sex (f!receiving), soft dominance, teasing, praise, thigh kisses, light possessiveness, intimate couch setting, body worship, cocky

The soft click of the door unlocking pulls your attention from the television. A rush of anticipation bubbles up as the handle turns, the familiar sound of Yunho’s steps filling the quiet apartment. When he steps inside, it’s as though the world outside ceases to exist.

Still dressed in his stage suit, he looks like he’s walked straight out of a dream. The fitted jacket hugs his broad shoulders, the dark fabric accentuating his tall frame. A few strands of his hair stick to his forehead, the remnants of sweat from hours of performing only adding to the allure. He pulls at the knot of his tie, loosening it slightly as his gaze finds you on the couch.

“Hey,” he greets, his deep voice soft and tinged with exhaustion, yet his smile is radiant.

Your heart flutters in response. “Yunho,” you call, grabbing the remote and pausing the music video you’ve been rewatching. The screen freezes on a shot of him staring into the camera with that smoldering gaze that makes your stomach twist. You point at the TV, your cheeks already warm. “We need to talk about this.”

His brow arches as he steps further into the room, slipping off his shoes by the door. “Talk about what?” he asks, amusement lacing his tone. The tie hangs loosely around his neck now, the top few buttons of his dress shirt undone, giving you a teasing glimpse of his collarbone.

You gesture wildly toward the screen. “This whole music video. You. The suit. The choreography. The lyrics. ‘You the one I’m tryna finish’? What the hell, Yunho?!”

He laughs, the sound rich and warm, but there’s something in the way he looks at you—a flicker of intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. “You didn’t like it?” he teases, his tone light, though his smirk suggests he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“No, I didn’t like it,” you reply, your voice rising in faux indignation. “I loved it. Too much, in fact. Now I’m sitting here rethinking every choice I’ve ever made and wondering how I’m supposed to live my life after—”

Your words falter as Yunho crosses the room, his long strides bringing him to the couch in seconds. He drops down beside you, the cushions sinking under his weight, and leans closer, one arm draping along the backrest behind you. His presence is overwhelming, his cologne still clinging faintly to his skin.

“Go on,” he says, his voice lower now, almost a murmur. “I’m listening.”

Your throat feels dry as you look at him. The way he’s watching you, his lips curled into a faint smile, his eyes half-lidded and dark with amusement—it’s too much. You try to summon your earlier indignation, but it’s hard to focus when he’s this close.

“You—” you start, your voice faltering as his hand lifts to your face, his thumb brushing lightly along your jawline.

“Me?” he prompts, tilting his head. His voice is teasing, but his touch is anything but. His fingers trail down to your chin, tilting your face toward him.

Before you can respond, his lips are on yours. The kiss is sudden, stealing the breath from your lungs. It’s not gentle—there’s a heat to it, a hunger that leaves no room for hesitation. His other hand finds your waist, pulling you closer as his tongue brushes against yours, deepening the kiss.

Your hands instinctively find the front of his shirt, clutching the fabric as you let yourself get lost in him. The world outside fades, your earlier rant forgotten as his lips move against yours, coaxing soft whimpers from your throat.

When he finally pulls back, his breathing is uneven, his forehead resting lightly against yours. His eyes search yours, a mix of desire and something deeper swirling in their depths.

“You’re the one I’m tryna finish,” he murmurs, his lips curling into a mischievous smile as his thumb brushes over your lower lip.

The words send a wave of heat crashing through you, and before you can process them, he’s moving. His hands slide down to your thighs, tugging you effortlessly into his lap as he leans back against the couch cushions. His large hands spread over your legs, his thumbs drawing slow, deliberate circles against your skin.

“You’ve been thinking about me all night, haven’t you?” he asks, his voice low and tinged with something possessive.

You want to argue, but the way his hands grip your thighs, holding you in place as he leans down to press a kiss to your neck, steals any coherent thought from your mind. “Y-Yunho—”

He chuckles softly, his breath warm against your skin. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, his lips trailing down to your collarbone. “I’ve been thinking about you too.”

His hands move with purpose, sliding under the hem of your shorts. He shifts, laying you back against the cushions as he kneels between your legs. His eyes roam over you, dark and filled with intent, as he tugs your shorts and underwear down in one smooth motion, leaving you bare beneath his gaze.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his voice soft yet filled with reverence. His hands glide up your thighs, spreading them apart as he lowers himself, his breath hot against your skin.

The first press of his lips against your inner thigh has your heart racing, and when his tongue flicks out to tease you, you can’t stop the moan that escapes your lips. Yunho hums in approval, the vibrations sending shivers through your body.

He doesn’t rush, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate strokes that leave you trembling beneath him. His lips close around your clit, and the sensation is enough to make your back arch off the couch, your fingers tangling in his hair.

“Yunho,” you gasp, your voice barely above a whisper.

He glances up at you, his eyes hooded and burning with desire. “That’s it,” he murmurs, his voice low and wrecked. “Let me hear you.”

The sound of his voice, combined with the way his tongue works against you, sends you spiraling. He alternates between teasing flicks and firm, deliberate circles, his hands gripping your hips to hold you in place as your body trembles beneath him.

Every nerve in your body feels like it’s on fire, the tension building and coiling tighter with each passing second. Yunho’s name falls from your lips in a broken chant, and when he groans against you, the vibrations push you to the edge.

You shatter, your body arching as waves of pleasure crash over you. Yunho doesn’t stop, his tongue coaxing you through your orgasm, drawing every last ounce of pleasure from you until you’re left trembling and breathless.

When he finally pulls back, his lips glistening and his breathing uneven, he presses a soft kiss to your thigh before sitting back on his heels. His hands slide up your legs, soothing the trembling muscles as his gaze meets yours.

“You’re amazing” he says, his voice filled with quiet awe.

He climbs back onto the couch, pulling you into his arms as he kisses you softly, his tongue brushing yours in a way that’s both possessive and tender. His hands cradle your face, his touch gentle despite the intensity of the moment.

“You belong to me” he murmurs against your lips, his voice filled with quiet conviction.

You bury your face in the crook of his neck, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you let the aftershocks of your release wash over you. In his embrace, the world feels distant, as though nothing else exists but the two of you.

Yunho’s fingers trail lazily along your back, his touch soothing as he holds you close. The faint hum of the television in the background fades into nothing, replaced by the sound of his heartbeat against your ear.

“I love you” he whispers, the words so soft you almost miss them.

You tilt your head to look at him, your heart swelling at the tenderness in his expression. “I love you too” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

His lips curve into a smile, and he presses a kiss to your forehead, his arms tightening around you. In his arms, you feel safe, cherished, and completely his.

[in-death-sacrifice]

Okay so I gave this idea of being a companion for Rook and having a mutual pining think going on with Lucanis. Could you write anything like that?

Warnings: Mutual pinning, Comfort, Fluff, One bed trope!

Lucanis Dellamorte x GN!Rook

Hope you enjoy! Requests are open so please send them my way! I am working on a couple of oneshots too! Along with some smut so if there's any kinks you think work well with our assassins you want to see it send them in my requests!❤️

Lucanis stared at the ceiling, his heart beating so wildly as he looked at you. Your body so close to his, tucked perfectly under the covers as exhaustion finally crept in. He should sleep but he was worried about spite, about where he might end up without people guarding the exits. Or without the safety of being tucked away in a spot of the fade that no one could enter.

The group were exhausted after their fight against the antaam, most of them almost beaten to pulp with their new weaponry. You all chose to sleep in a nearby inn, the only trouble there was only one room left that was finished with a Twin and Double. He offered to sleep in the chair, knowing he wouldn't be able to get a wink if he tried hard enough to prevent it. But of course you disapproved, practically shoving him to the bed and instructing him to stay like a dog. It was cute seeing you care so much, his heart melting at the fact you didn't even flinch at the idea to lay next to him and his demon partner.

He could feel the heat radiating off your body, wanting nothing more than to run his fingers through the strands of your hair. He found himself getting lost in the thought of the texture, wondering if the strands were soft and silky or rough. The slithers of skin that your evening outfit gave off were enough to get the blood pumping southwards. He felt like a teenage boy laying here; begging for a touch at the first chance he shares a bed. Lucanis continued to watch you, the way your features are relaxed in your sleep; your chest slowly rising with each breath. He wondered if your calmness was because of his own presence, if you felt the same way as he did. If he tainted your dreams like you do with the few he got to experience.

He wanted to fight it, the need to be closer; the feeling of his eyelids getting heavier with each breath. He could just pump himself with coffee in the morning like normal but maybe spite would be quiet just this once. Allow him to relax and finally catch up on the much needed sleep to chase away his constant headache. He didn't get to choose as he finally succumbed to the darkness, falling into a pit of deep sleep...thankful no horrors of the past year to plague his mind.

When you awoke you struggled to move, there was something pinning you to the mattress. Your arm is outstretched to feel for the man beside you only to find him laying on your chest. His arms tucked tightly around your waist hugging you like you escape his grasp, turn to dust. His breathing was even, his hair messy and falling over his eyes instead of in its usual pushed back style. You could feel his breath against the skin of your chest, the puffs of air leaving goosebumps against your skin. You knew you should move, but you didn't want to. It felt nice, grounding to be held like this. So instead of waking up you fell back into your deep slumber, this time you fingers gently playing with the longer strands of hair at the back of his head. Maybe he likes you too but until you knew for certain...his frustratingly slow shows of affections would do for you.

You only prayed the dangers you both had to face would allow you to relish in this moment.

[pitchsidestories]

el sueño de una niña (1) II Jenni Hermoso x Reader

part 2 I masterlist I word count: 2175

a/n: dear readers, the inspiration for this oneshot was Jenni Hermoso's speech at the Ballon d'Or ceremony, enjoy. 🖤💜

“Wait, I know that you’re a football player. Why did you come from my mamis bedroom?”

Jenni was on her way to sneak out of your appartement but when that small voice held her back. Curiously she turned the head around to look into the eyes of a little girl who the Spaniard estimated to be between five to six years old.

That must have been your daughter Mila Jenni thought to herself. It was the big confession after the great night the two of you had spent together.

Something in the reveal activated her flight mode, the forward’s plan was to leave and never look back. Her life was so chaotic she didn’t feel ready to be a part of a family.

Even though everything about yesterday touched her more than Jenni wanted to admit. Images of it flashed behind her eyes capturing passion, beauty and love. 

“Uhm.. you didn’t see me, okay?”, the raven-haired woman returned the question flustered.

“But you’re the Jenni Hermoso, right? The one who won the World cup with Spain.”, Mila looked at her big-eyed, her voice full of adoration.

“Yes, but don’t tell anyone.”, Jenni replied, pressing a finger to her lips to underline her words.

“Wow.”, the little girl whispered amazed.

“Sorry, I really need to leave now. I’ve a speech to write.”, the striker apologized.

This didn’t stop Mila to confide in the older woman. “I’d love to be a football player like you when I’m grown up.”

“You do?”, something of your daughter’s sincerity made Jenni stay despite her announcement earlier that she needed to go.

“Yes.”, the girl emphasized.

“Hm..”

“It’s a big dream of mine.”, Mila added smiling shily.

“You’ll have to work hard for it.”, the Spaniard told her seriously.

“I can do that.”, your daughter assured her.

“And people will try to keep you from it.. they will tear you down and hope you’ll be compliant.”, Jenni continued gravely, kneeing down so she could look into the girl’s eyes.

“Did they do that with you?”, Mila questioned empathetically, placing her small hand carefully to the dark-haired woman’s cheek.

“Yes. All my life. So, promise me one thing, okay?”, she confirmed.

“Okay?”

“Don’t let anyone tell you what you can and cannot be. Promise?”, Jenni pressed a kiss to your daughter’s fingers.

“I promise.”, Mila answered solemnly.

“If you excuse me now.”, the older woman gave her an apologetic look.

“Bye, Jenni. I hope I’ll see you back soon.”, the girl said in an optimistic tone that left no doubt that the football player would return to your appartement.

“We’ll see. Thank you though.”, Jenni answered gratefully.

“Thank you for what?”, your daughter frowned confused.

“You just gave me an idea for my speech.”, the football player’s face lit up with excitement as she spoke.

Jenni shuffled the pieces of papers once more while someone applied her make up for the Ballon D’Or ceremony.

The writing on her notes was almost illegible, she had scribbled down her thoughts way too quickly on her way to the venue. It didn’t matter. She knew now what she wanted to say on stage. Still, she refused to let go of her notes.

“Jenni, have you actually prepared a speech?”

Alexias face appeared behind her in the mirror, She was already in her suit, her hair pulled into a low bun.

Jenni was about to complain about the surprised tone of Alexias voice when Patri joined them: “No way! I thought you’d just start talking like you always do.“

Jenni raised one eyebrow at the reflection of her two Spanish teammates and grinned: “That was the initial plan but I had a better idea.“

“Did someone spark your inspiration?”, Marta asked innocently.

Once the make-up artist let go of her face, she turned towards them and nodded: “Yes. And I hope she’s watching.“

Her teammates exchanged unreadable glances without saying a word while Jenni walked past them, leading the way to the award ceremony.

For what felt like hours, they sat there and listened to men talk. Jennis gaze kept going back to the clock, willing the time to slow down or the speakers to talk faster so Mila had a chance to watch before her bedtime.

Finally, she was called up on stage to receive her award. There was applause but she knew a lot of the people weren’t satisfied with her nomination. She held onto her notes and it all faded into the background once she started speaking about the little girl that wanted to follow in her footsteps, the girl that deserved to have a safer environment to play football in.

Her teammates welcomed her back to her seat with standing ovations. Alexia nodded at her once with a set jaw while Aitana gave her an inquiring look: “You dedicated it to a young girl? Who’s that?”

“Someone I met this morning.“, Jenni replied truthfully as she sat down.

“She seems to have left quite an impression on you.“, Caroline remarked.

“She did. Sometimes I wonder why I put up with all this shit… but there are so many little girls out there that should have it better than we did back then.“

“I agree with that.“, Alexia chimed in.

Marta nodded in agreement: “Me too, obviously. We had to put up with a lot.“

“Let’s be honest, we still do.“, Aitana whispered.

Jenni answered with new-found determination: “Yes but until she gets older, we might have already changed some more things.“

“I bet we will.“, Salma said quietly, before they all went quiet again and focused on the next award recipient.

Much to the surprise of her national and former club teammates Jenni announced at the after party, the alcohol-free wine glass still resting in her hand untouched. “I think I’m going to leave.”

“Leave?”, Patri repeated puzzled.

“Yeah, this party is boring anyway.”, the striker shrugged. The other women secretly thought the same, they couldn’t celebrate like the men around them as they were having a national team game the next morning.

 Seeing Jenni step into your apartment while she still wore her glamorous dark suit jacket showing a large portion of her skin underneath felt almost unreal to you. It wasn’t that long ago when Mila and you watched the ballon d’or ceremony on tv and now she was back in flesh and blood. The football player was even more gorgeous here than on the screen.

Quickly Jenni revealed that the celebrations had bored her which was the moment you told her about your night.

“Mila stayed awake the whole time, she didn’t want to fall asleep until you were on the stage, Jenni.”

“She watched?”, the dark-haired woman asked happily.

“Yes, Mila loved everything about your speech.”, you nodded thrilled by the fact that your excitement was mirrored in the forward’s face.

“I’ve to thank her. She inspired me.”, she confessed.

“You inspired her as well.”, you admitted smiling.  

“Even if she’s the only one, I reached my goal.”, Jenni beamed.

“To be fair I think you inspired many more with your words.”, you remarked solemnly.

“I hope so.”, the dark-haired woman sighed.

“Trust me.”, you answered softly.

After a meaningful pause you added. “I almost thought you wouldn’t call or wanted to see me again back then you left without a word in the morning.”

“That would sound like me actually.”, the footballer cleared her throat nervously. She loved to play the game, haunting for the next great beauty to court and lay down in bed with before going on the haunt again, always being a restless player. All was fair in love and football.

“She’ll appreciate the thank you though, it’ll mean a lot to her.”, you said while you bit your lip.

“That’s why I’m here. I want to thank you both.”, Jenni looked at you sincerely.

“Shouldn’t you be at the grand afterparty sipping champagne and flirting with pretty women?”, you lifted an eyebrow curiously.

“Not many women there that aren’t my teammates. And I’m not allowed to drink, I’ve to be back with my national team tomorrow.”, the striker chuckled amused.

“I see.”

“And maybe I preferred to spend my time here.”, she acknowledged, one hand ran tensely through her long hair.

You considered her for a moment and nodded in the direction of Milas bedroom: “Sadly she’s already asleep…“

“That’s okay. I could stay if you let me.“

You knew you should have thought about it for longer but you couldn’t resist the thought of Jenni staying one more night: “Yes, you can. If you promise to say goodbye in the morning.“

“If I was planning to sneak out again, I wouldn’t have told you.“, Jenni half-joked.

You tilted your head: “Good point.“

“So?”

“You can stay the night.“, you finally confirmed.

Relief seemed to flash across Jennis face for a millisecond: “Thanks.“

“You’re welcome, Jenni.“

The next morning you were woken up by footsteps on the wooden floor. Your heart sank immediately, thinking it was Jenni breaking her promise so you refused to turn around. You didn’t want to watch her leave again. Instead you heard a tiny voice whisper in awe: “Jenni!”

“Woah, you’re already awake, little one. Good morning.“, Jenni yawned and stretched right next to you.

She was still here, still in your bed.

“I saw you! Last night!”, Mila said full of excitement.

“You did? And did you like my suit? It’s on that chair.“, Jenni smiled, pointing across the room.

You watched as Mila walked over and gently touched the fabric in awe.

“It’s beautiful.“

“Right? Next year I’ll take you and your mum with me.“, the football player said, winking at you as if to tell you that she knew you were awake.

While the smile fell from your face, Milas eyes lit up: “What? Really?”

“Yes, why not?”

You might have been desperate for her to stay another night but you weren’t delusional. Who knew where the two of you were in a year? Most likely not sharing a bed anymore.

“Don’t promise her too much.“, you warned the football player.

Jenni was unusually quiet before replied: “I… mean it.“

“You mean it?”

“I do. I want to keep seeing you and her.“, she said with determination.

Milas eyes had been darting back and forth between the two of you like she was watching a tennis match. “We want to keep seeing you too!”, she yelled happily.

Completely ignoring you, Jenni turned back to your daughter and pulled her onto the bed: “Would you like to see a football game in Italy tonight?”

Mila was bursting with joy: “Yes!”

“I mean isn’t that too spontaneous? Like what about the airplane tickets?“, you interjected.

“I can take care of it all. But only if that’s okay with you.“, Jenni offered while Mila put on her best puppy eyes: “Pleeease.“

Who were you to deny your daughter such a once in a lifetime opportunity?

With a hesitant nod, you finally agreed: “Okay.“

The day has flown by, Mila and you quickly packed your bag for one night, before following your lover to get on the plane. While the striker was on the team walk, your daughter and you did your own exploring the Italian surroundings. It was like a daydream from which you didn’t want to wake up.

In the evening, you could feel from the stands Jennis glances on you who was standing on the pitch with some of her friends. Next to you Mila couldn’t hide her excitement seeing her favourite players live. It genuinely warmed your heart to witness and share that special moment with your child.

“Pretty girl from next door? She’s so your type, Jenni.”, Laia Codina wiggled her eyebrows.

“That’s why she’s here.”, the forward winked at the defender.

With a smirk on her face Alexia bumped her elbow into her teammates side. “Who would’ve thought that Jennifer found herself a family.”

“Strange things happen, Ale.”, Jenni shrugged with her shoulders.

“Yes, it’s Halloween soon.”, Vicky threw in teasingly.

“Rude.”, the older striker commented smiling.

“Vicky.”, the Barcelona captain clicked her tongue reprovingly.

The test game ended in a draw, but that didn’t stop Jenni from giving you a passionate kiss.

“That wasn’t very subtle, Jenni.”, you laughed.

“I don’t care about subtle anymore.”, she clarified grinning.

“What about the others watching?”, you asked her, cheeks flushed.

“They just love to stare at pretty girls.”, Jenni stated firmly.

“Pretty girls, hm?”, you repeated. Admittedly under her intense gaze you felt more beautiful than ever before. She didn’t hide her desire towards you and wasn’t afraid to show it in the public.

“Yes.”, she confirmed.

“Kiss me again.”, you requested, your voice slightly hoarse from cheering. Before you even could finish your sentence, her lips were on yours, making both of your hearts flutter.

Everything started with a dream of a little girl which was your daughter, in which Jenni saw her younger self, Mila undoubtedly became her inspiration for the speech. The three of you would now dream together.

Keep dreaming.

gif source: https://www.tumblr.com/imverits/765621490900238336?source=share

[peachdues]

WISH

Compass one-shot • bad boy!Sanemi Shinazugawa x f!Reader

A tooth-rottingly sweet one-shot honoring my sweet boy’s birthday.

This takes place a few months into Sanemi x Reader’s relationship in Compass — the main story is still in the hot, sticky summer. So think of this like a flash-forward. Don’t worry if you’re not fully caught up — no real spoilers here!

CW: 6k • MDNI • the cozy comfort winter oneshot of your dreams • mostly sickeningly sweet fluff but enough allusions/references to these horny idiots’ very active sex life • some references to gang violence (not descriptive) • swearing • abuse of cake

COMPASS MASTERLIST

Good birthday?

The two words sit on his home screen, a notification labeled with Genya’s name.

It takes Sanemi a moment to make sense of his brother’s text, until he spies the date reflected in the upper corner of his phone.

It’s November 29th.

For someone like Sanemi, dates are only important as far as they signal when something is due — and when something is late. The only dates that matter to him are the ones he’s told to care about; those hard deadlines that go unmet and require Sanemi to strap his crowbar to his back and his gun to his hip, so he can pay some poor bastard a visit.

Today is one of those deadlines, and Sanemi has a list of obligations to follow through on. But Genya’s text is a glaring reminder of the other thing today represents.

It’s his birthday.

Every year, his brother asks him the same thing — though, admittedly, Sanemi thinks the text is more a reminder rather than a happy wish of another year’s passing. Without Genya’s annual good birthday? Sanemi is fairly certain he’d forget November 29th held any significance to him at all.

I’ll be damned, Sanemi thinks, walking up the back entrance to an old computer parts shop — his first stop of the morning. Made it another year.

As unenthused Sanemi is about his birthday, he usually answered his brother with some pithy little acknowledgement. A biting Still alive, ain’t I? or, if he was feeling particularly festive, he’d simply send a thumb’s up, one that signaled his brother that Sanemi was working and didn’t want to risk smearing more blood and sweat across his phone screen than absolutely necessary.

This year, though — his twenty-second, he realizes after doing a quick bit of math — Sanemi’s not in any position to reply to his brother. Not yet, at least. So for now, his phone will have to sit in his pocket; his hands are about to be busy.

He’s got debts to collect.

—

Two hours later, Sanemi sits on his bike in an empty alleyway spliced between Market and Eastern Avenue.

In the last week or so, a strong front of arctic air had swept through the City, plunging it deep into the throes of winter. For a moment, Sanemi was grateful for the chill of the air; he always gets worked up after a collection, his limbs abuzz with hot blood and adrenaline. Cold air helped him settle down faster, cleared his mind so he could approach the next job with the same, violent precision.

Except, it’s now colder than he likes, but that itch still burns hot inside him. Hence, why Sanemi remains here, tucked away in this dark, forgotten alley, huddled over his bike. He’s got nothing to keep warm with but his worn leather jacket and the cigarette perched his lips, its end flowing a faint orange.

Tobacco-tinged smoke curls around his head, mixing with condensation of his breath as he exhales long and slow. The rush of nicotine is both a welcome distraction and extra sedative and finally, Sanemi feels his shoulders relax.

He’s only halfway through his cigarette, but he flicks it to the ground anyway. He’s not sure whether the burning in his throat is from the cold air or this particular bad habit of his, but it’s enough to kill his desire for anything more now that his edge has been sufficiently dulled. Still, he considers whittling himself down to the occasional cigarette is a marked improvement from the daily half pack he blazed through in his youth, before he discovered other outlets for his stress. Maybe he’ll be able to kick the habit all together by this time next year.

Assuming he lives long enough to see his next birthday, that is.

Sanemi’s in the middle of stuffing his lighter back inside his jacket pocket when he feels his phone buzz. He shouldn’t check it, not when his to do list still has one more name to cross off, but he’s already indulged in one bad habit this afternoon. Might as well go two-for-two.

And boy, is he glad he does when he spies the notification bearing your name.

Tell me you’re coming over tonight.

Sanemi’s lips twitch up with a smile he hasn’t been able to muster in days. Leave it to you to brighten his day in so few words.

What time you want me, sweetness?

A cutting gust of wind tears down the alley, whipping and tearing through the layers of his clothes. Any other time, Sanemi would simply hunch over the clutch of his bike and speed off, thinking only of someplace that wasn’t outside.

Now, he’s got you to look forward to.

Your reply arrives a few seconds later. Got a few errands to run so I’m closing up early. Owner can suck it. It’s cold.

It is, Sanemi mentally agrees, and he feels a rush of relief that closing nearly means you’ll be home — or close enough to it — before dark. The uptick in violence through the City has crept too close to your neighborhood for his comfort, and Sanemi already hates you walking home in the dark without him as it is. The season’s shortened days only makes that particular anxiety of his worse.

Thank the fucking stars you’re less inclined to weather the arrival of winter than he is.

It’s a date, beautiful. He texts back before pocketing his phone. He cups his hands around his mouth and huffs, willing his breath to unfreeze his fingers enough to grip his bike’s clutch.

Another torrent of wind rips through the alley, but this time, it brings with it the first snow of winter, pelting his face with fat, cold flakes.

Sanemi tilts his face up toward the sky and grins. It is a sharp, feral thing, full of teeth and challenge. Good. Let it snow as hard as it wants; let it suffocate the City under a thick blanket of white. He wouldn’t care; Sanemi can’t think of a way better to warm up than by crawling under the covers with you. Maybe he’ll even treat himself and convince you to sleep in with him tomorrow. It’s been a few days since he last had the chance to see you. While he knows better than to be a betting man, he’d wager his odds of keeping you in bed were pretty good.

Huffing nice, twice more on his hands and Sanemi starts his bike, its motor roaring to life underneath him. His fingers are still stiff, but he can at least grip his clutch enough to steer it. No doubt the icy sting of the wind will freeze his hands in place, but he’ll worry about how to unstick himself later.

For now, he still has work to do.

In the northwest corridor of the City is a port marina that harbors a smattering of small house boats. It’s inside one of these drafty little boats where his next target hides, no doubt relying on the sudden arrival of winter to trick his creditors into looking for him elsewhere.

That ruse might have worked if anyone else other than Sanemi had been tasked with hunting him down. Unfortunately for him, his name fell in Sanemi’s lap, and now he’s going to have to play host to some very unpleasant company.

Slowly, Sanemi treads his bike to the end of the alley, eyes squinted against the wind and the snow, sweeping the street for any unsuspecting travelers. Finding nothing but the odd plastic bag being whipped and tossed down the sidewalk, Sanemi kicks his bike into gear.

As soon as he gets this job over with, he’ll get to see you.

The engine revs, and then Sanemi is thundering down the street, a renewed warmth spreading through his chest that even the biting cold of November can’t dampen.

—

It’s just after dark when Sanemi pulls up to your apartment, quickly killing the motor on his bike. He scans the dark alleyway behind your complex once, twice, before he glances up at the series of windows. Once satisfied that there are no unwanted eyes tracking his movements, Sanemi makes his way to the building’s side entrance, and begins his steady climb up the stairs.

He twirls his key to your place around his finger. God, he can’t wait to get kick his boots off, strip down to his sweater, and climb into bed with you. Maybe you’ll let him poach off your neighbor’s cable satellite again, and that way, he can find you a movie to half-pay attention to. Or, maybe you’ve snuck away another handful of advanced release copies from work, and the two of you can get to work reading and reviewing them. Either way, Sanemi is ready for the calm he only feels when he’s with you; he’s ready to relax.

The first thing he notices when he steps into your apartment is the smell of something burning.

“Motherfucker —“ he hears your vicious snarl from the kitchen right as something clatters to the floor. “One more fucking thing go wrong, I dare you —“

Calm is not on the agenda, it seems.

The air inside your studio is hazy with smoke, enough that it tickles the back of his throat. Hastily, Sanemi pushes your door shut before it can spill into the hallway and tempt one of the building’s ancient fire alarms. The last thing he wants is to summon the City’s finest and tip them off that a high profile gang member likes frequenting this neighborhood. Or the reason why.

“It’s me.” He calls out, crossing through your living room to crank open one of the arched windows behind your bed. Cold air floods your apartment, the winter wind chasing out the thickest of the smoke into night. “Baby?”

No answer; only more furious clanging and a particularly fierce “oh, fuck you.”

Cautious, Sanemi pokes his head into your small kitchenette. “Y/N?”

He’s not sure what he expected, but he can’t say he’s prepared for the sight of you, standing in front of your oven, hands on your hips and your foot tapping irritably on the floor. A cooling tray lays by your feet, and you don’t seem to be in any hurry to collect it; not when you’re too busy glowering down at your stove.

Sanemi’s eyes follow yours, and he finds what he presumes is the source of the stench. The worst of the smoke rolls off something sitting on your stove, though it’s too black for Sanemi to even guess what it’s supposed to be.

You whirl around and Sanemi has to bite his tongue to keep from laughing.

There’s flour on your cheek and dusted all down your front, along with other smears and stains of beige — batter of some sort, if he had to guess, given the cluttered mess on your counter of used mixing bowls and measuring cups. Your hair is a mess, puffed up and frizzed out from the smoke, framing a face scrunched up in pinched fury.

All things considered, you look pretty damn adorable, but he isn’t about to tell you that. The block of kitchen knives you rarely touch are too close within your reach for his comfort.

So, Sanemi takes the pragmatic approach and casually folds his arms across his chest. He offers with a measured nod of his head toward your oven. “I thought we talked about you cookin’ without supervision.”

For all the grief he’d given you about your inability to make anything more substantive than cereal, Sanemi learned rather quickly it was the most you could be trusted with. Once, you’d tried to show off your culinary skills by making him ramen, only for you to stick the dried noodles in your microwave without water. You hadn’t even noticed the acrid smell of something burning until he pointed it out, and by then, it was too late. It was only after he’d thrown the smoking bowl of scorched, blackened noodles into your sink that he hotly declared you were not to use any appliance in your kitchen while by yourself.

He’d thought you’d agreed to that ban but, as he peers over your shoulder to inspect whatever it is that’s about to set off your fire alarm, Sanemi grimly realizes the two of you are not on the same page.

“I wasn’t cooking, I was baking.” You snap, as though the distinction matters. You yank an oven mitt off one hand and snatch a loose fork from the counter, jamming it right into the smoldering center of whatever the hell it is you’ve tried to make. It pops and sags beneath the stab of the fork, more steam hissing out of the wound you’ve opened in its surface.

You hold the fork up for inspection and your eyes widen with outrage. “How is it burnt on the outside and fucking raw on the inside —?”

Sanemi glances at your oven settings and raises an eyebrow. “‘Cuz you have it set to five hundred — didn’t even know ovens could go that high.”

You chuck the fork into the kitchen sink with more force than necessary. “I was trying to get your stupid cake done before you got here. I wanted you to be surprised!”

He blinks. “What cake?”

“Your birthday cake!” You rip the other oven mitt from your hands scrunching it up before throwing it to the counter in defeat. “It’s your birthday, and I didn’t leave the store ‘til late, so I had to rush to get it done because I couldn’t swing a present other than this stupid cake!” You jab a finger toward the blackened pan still smoking on the stove. “And I couldn’t even do that!”

Sanemi’s eyes widen and for a moment, he can’t remember to blink.

All he can do is stare.

As much as he’s tried to forget them, there were a handful of November 29ths that had stuck with him over the years; a wad of chewing gum cemented to his memory that he couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard he tried scraping it away.

His fifth birthday was spent clinging to his mother’s arm, begging her not to leave him alone in that dinky, unheated shoebox where they lived. His eyes had been teary, and he hated that he was acting like a crybaby, but he didn’t want his Ma to go — didn’t want to be left alone. He wanted her to scoop him up in her arms, to hum fragments of lullabies into his hair as she curled over him beneath their threadbare blankets, desperate for her body heat to sink into her son and keep him warm.

But it was winter, and Sanemi needed something to eat, so Shizu, heavily pregnant, had to go work.

She returned the next day with a lukewarm fast food hamburger Sanemi couldn’t stomach eating. Not when his mother came home sporting a new black eye, so dark and purple that not even her paper thin smile could dull her obvious wince, or the shadowy bruises peppered along her too-thin arms.

He spent his eighth birthday scavenging for spare coins dropped between the sagging, stained cushions of the old man’s broken down furniture.

Genya was nearly three and crying, his belly aching with a hunger he didn’t understand. Their mother was dead, and no one knew how to care for them except for Sanemi, and he’d been desperate; enough so that he’d clawed at the broken wooden couch slats until his numb fingers turned raw; bloody.

Because it was snowing and cold and Kyogo had left his sons at home in the dark, unheated apartment with nothing to eat.

He’d found enough loose change to justify running down to his neighbor’s place, and the old man had been kind enough to give him a packet of stale instant noodles. No seasoning packets, but the Shinazugawa boys had been too hungry to mind.

The only candles he had to mark the day were the mismatched stumps scrounged out of some cluttered drawer. His birthday wish — the very first one he’d ever made — a feeble plea that come December, Kyogo wouldn’t waste the month’s electric bill on booze his sons couldn’t even drink to keep warm. Winter in the Silo was harsh enough.

But December came and went, heralding in harsh winds and thick sheets of ice, and the apartment never once turned warm.

Sanemi never made another birthday wish again.

When he turned ten, Genya brought him home a tiny green race car, no doubt swiped from the basket of loose toys that sat next to the cashier at the nearby corner store. The paint was chipped, and one of the wheels had a tendency to stick whenever Sanemi skated it over the kitchen’s cracked linoleum, but it was a toy, and Sanemi hadn’t had one of those before. So, he ruffled his brother’s hair and the two spent the night rolling the car back and forth to one another across the floor, giddy with that childlike innocence they never got to keep come sunrise.

The corner store it came from closed not long after his birthday, its owner having been dragged out sometime in the night by hooded men, face too swollen and mouth too bloodied to scream.

Not that anyone would’ve helped, anyway. Not here.

Sanemi still has the car, though. It’s since lost a wheel, and the paint has nearly faded away, but it sits in his window sill; a prized token of the boy he’d never been.

For his fifteenth birthday, Sanemi’s lucky ass got not one, but two presents: a broken rib and a black eye. Courtesy of Kyogai, a sleazy had-been in the Corps’ ranks, whose penchant for downers meant he never had enough money to pay his dues to the Corps. Sanemi, a junior at the time, had been sent to collect money Kyogai refused to cough up, and in his youthful arrogance, thought he could simply strong-arm the Corps’ payment back.

That was when he learned never to get between a junkie and their fix — especially once withdrawal set in.

Sanemi returned the birthday generosity on a cold day in January, with his crowbar to Kyogai’s kneecaps. Rumor was he still couldn’t walk without a cane. But he never tried his bullshit with Sanemi again, and he thought that was probably the best gift of all.

So no, Sanemi can’t say he expects much out of his birthdays.

“No one’s ever made me a birthday cake before.”

It’s a breathless sort of admission, one that he’d probably be embarrassed about making if he wasn’t so caught off guard.

His admission monetarily stuns you into silence, and he almost feels ashamed. But you quickly recover and instead offer only a brittle laugh. “Yeah, well. Fucked that up for you, I guess.”

You finally look at him and Sanemi is startled by the tears rapidly lining your eyes.

“It’s just a cake, baby,” Sanemi soothes, hands reaching for you. “And today’s just a day. ‘S no big deal.”

Another great sniff. “It is a big deal!”

Sanemi is all too used to never having and not being allowed to want, so accepting what others want or try to give doesn’t exactly come easy to him. But the sight of you, nearly reduced to tears over the scorched disaster you’d tried desperately to make into something worth marking the day with has him reevaluating twenty-two years’ worth of trained indifference.

Beneath your frustration is clear upset with the situation. Because, you tried.

Sure, Sanemi’s birthdays passed without the usual triumvirate of cake-ice cream-presents he supposes other kids got. Frankly, he didn’t quite see the appeal of it anyway, but that may have been because Sanemi hadn’t known to miss what he never had. November 29th was just a day, after all; the mark of another year gone by without him taking a bullet to the head or having his body dumped in some faraway hole. The watery sun that rose that morning was no different all the others he’d managed to cheat his way into seeing. To him, it’s insignificant.

But not to you. For some reason, you don’t think you’ve given him enough.

Months of being together, and he still hasn’t figured out how to make you understand that he doesn’t need any grand gestures from you. It’s enough that you continue allowing him into your home, your bed, your life; that you soothe his fragmented heart, and chase away the cloud of numbness always lurking over his shoulder with one of your sweet smiles.

He doesn’t want for anything because he already has everything in you.

But you still want to give him more.

God, he doesn’t deserve you. And he certainly doesn’t deserve the tears swimming in your eyes or the frustration that weighs down your shoulders.

Sure, he doesn’t really give a damn about his birthday, but he sure as hell gives several about you, and your defeat is not something he’ll tolerate.

Sanemi fishes his set of keys from his pocket. “C’mon,” he nods toward the door. “We’re going to the store.”

—

“It’s not right,” you sniff an hour later as you hand him an oven mitt. “You shouldn’t be making your own birthday cake.”

“We’re making,” Sanemi corrects, seamlessly pulling the hot pan from your oven and placing it atop your stove to cool. “The present ain’t the cake, anyway.”

He tosses the mitt to your counter and turns to you, eyeing the can of frosting in your hand, one you absently stir a butter knife into, unsure of how else to help.

With a faint smile, Sanemi swipes his finger through the top layer of sprinkled sugar, dolloping it right on the tip of your nose. “You are.”

You roll your eyes, swiping your finger through the small blob of icing and bringing it to your mouth. As you suck the tip of your finger clean, you peer over his arm, nose wrinkling as you as you look down at the golden brown surface of the very much baked-through cake. “Still, box cake mix?”

“A cake’s a cake.”

The kitchen is teeming with the warm, comforting scent of sweet vanilla, one that spreads through the rest of your studio, chasing away the last remnants of burnt confectionary which lingered after your earlier baking fiasco. Boxed mix or not, you have to know that plan b smells leagues better than plan a, even if that means your ego has to take the hit.

“If you say so,” you grumble, shouldering him out of the way as you scoop out a glob of frosting, ready to slap it across the cake’s surface.

“Not yet,” Sanemi corrects, gently catching your wrist before your knife can make contact. “It’s gotta cool first, or else that’s just gonna melt all over the place.”

Your mouth twists into an annoyed grimace. “That seems stupid.” You gripe, stabbing the knife back into the canister of icing, right in its center.

“Chemistry, sweetheart. Didn’t you pay attention?”

“I slept through most of chem back in the day.”

That surprises him. “Weren’t you a goody two shoes?”

You snort. “Not when it came to science. Or math, for that matter. Always got my lowest grades in science and math.”

Sanemi rolls his eyes. “And a low grade for you would’ve been —?”

This time, you drop your head, suddenly sheepish. “Anything below an A.”

Of course. “Damn, wish I’d known.” Sanemi smirks. “Maybe I could’ve made bank tutoring instead of runnin’ around, bein’ a delinquent.” At the skeptical raise of your brow, he scoffs. “What? You think a blossoming criminal couldn’t also score a few As?”

Math had always come easily to him, though that may have been out of necessity than raw talent. Knowing numbers meant he could tally up debts quickly in his head and calculate the exact interest owed, which meant less time wasted wherein his target might be able to get one over on him. Not once had he ever finished a job short-changed. That’s what made him so valuable to the Corps, even back then.

His academic success across the various fields of mathematics and science (which was math with more words thrown in), was just an added bonus.

“Still, though — tutoring?” You laugh. “Sorry — for some reason I can’t picture you meeting some poor kid in the library to go over formulas and equations. I can’t even imagine someone willing to ask you — I mean —“ you gesture to him, and Sanemi knows that’s explanation enough.

“I might’ve. Especially if a certain pretty girl had batted her lashes and asked me all nice and sweet.” Gently, he pushes your hair back over your shoulder, his eyes watching your breath hitch in your throat; the goosebumps that spread over your skin. Smirking, he leans in and presses his lips right below your ear. “Kinda like how you did last week — ‘cept, you were asking me to give you something then, weren’t you?”

The way your cheeks darken tell him you know exactly what he’s talking about.

It was him. Specifically, his cum; you’d begged for it, actually, your recurring chant of fill me up, fill me up, baby, please! sweeter than music to his fucking ears.

You turn to grab the can of icing, defiantly putting your back to him, if only to avoid having to look at the cocky set of his mouth.

Sanemi’s gloating isn’t over. It’s his birthday, after all. “You know I’m right.”

“Oh, shut up before I make you decorate your damn cake.”

Still grinning, he lets you shoo him from the kitchen. Sanemi plops himself onto your sofa and fishes your tv remote from between the cushions. He busies himself flipping through the handful of channels you get, finally landing on some pro baseball game he only watches with half-interest.

“Ready!” You call a few moments later, and Sanemi tosses the remote aside, the game, forgotten.

You hover in front of your counter, hands together twisting nervously. The moment he appears in the kitchen’s small entryway, you step aside, revealing the fruit of your shared labor.

“Happy Birthday, Sanemi.”

The cake is small and its edges are a little lopsided. The icing looks like it was applied the same way as wallpaper paste. A lone, green candle sits lit in the cake’s center, its flame bright and merry.

Sanemi’s never seen anything more appealing in his life.

“You have to make your wish,” you sternly remind him as he leans over the cake, his eyes glued to the candle. “And you can’t say it out loud.”

A birthday cake; his very own birthday cake.

There’s a part of him that hesitates to blow out the candle, too entranced by the way the little flame dances and bends around the wick. After all, the last time he’d made a wish, it hadn’t come true.

And yet, another part of him — that silly, hopelessly optimistic part he knows better than to indulge — wonders if perhaps his eight-year-old self’s wish hadn’t worked because he’d lit the candles for light and feeble warmth. They hadn’t been intended for celebration, and he certainly hadn’t had a cake to hold them.

Maybe that was part of the magic; the spell’s missing ingredients.

This time, maybe things will be different.

His wish is simple, if not a little selfish. But Sanemi thinks that birthdays might be the chance to be selfish, and he’s not making his wish out loud anyways, so maybe he can get away with this.

Sanemi closes his eyes and he wishes for time. Time with you. Time with Genya. As much as the universe will let him have.

That would be enough.

Sanemi blows out the candle.

“C’mere you,” he says roughly, reaching for you. He pulls you into his side and presses a kiss to your temple. “Thank you.”

Your arms wind around his middle. “You did most of the work.”

“You made it a birthday cake, though.” He lays his cheek atop your head. “You turned this whole damn day into somethin’ special. Thank you.”

Without you, Sanemi would never know what it felt like to have his own birthday cake or a candle to wish upon.

Neither of you of bother with plates or cutting slices; instead, you hand him another fork and the two of you dig right in.

At the first bite, Sanemi’s eyes slide shut. Cheap box cake has never tasted so fucking good.

“Not bad,” you say thickly through your own mouthful, leaning over your counter. Another bite is already loaded on your fork. “Wonder what mine would’ve tasted like.”

Sanemi swallows. “Like raw cake batter.”

You turn over your shoulder to stick your tongue out at him, not caring that your mouth is full, or for the crumbs that fall on the counter top.

You’re about to return to the cake when a smear of white catches his eye.

“Hold it.” Sanemi sets his fork down and catches your chin between his thumb and forefinger before you turn away. He tilts your face up, and smirks.

That’s when he leans in, flicks his tongue along your lower lip. He moans at the taste of sugar, the spare bit of icing left on your lip further sweetening the honey of your kiss, his mouth capturing yours.

Your moan rights everything in his world full of wrongs, your fork clattering to the counter.

The hand he keeps on your chin slides to the back of your neck, tilting your head; the other finds purchase at your hip, tugging you closer into him. It only takes a matter of seconds before Sanemi is drunk on your lips, the warmth of the evening liquid honey that pools in his stomach.

Your kiss tastes like cake and home.

He’d stay here all night if he could, but the fervor of your lips moving with his has quickly stolen his breath away. No matter how much he craves your kiss, his body demands air.

With a faint grunt, Sanemi breaks your kiss. The hand on the back of your neck remains firmly in place, keeping you close as Sanemi traces the slope of your nose with the tip of his. “You had icing on your lip. Had to fix it.”

Through his lowered lids, he can see the quickened rise and fall of your chest as you steady your own breathing; the flush in your cheeks. Your eyes are bright, however, illuminated with equal desire and challenge.

Your tongue flicks out to dampen your lower lip and Sanemi’s eyes narrow. “Maybe you should check for more.”

Fuck oxygen. His mouth is back on yours before you can finish your next inhale.

And then, he’s moving.

Though you’re walking backwards, you’re the one guiding him, your fingers hooked through his belt loops as you tug him through your kitchenette and out into the open space of your studio.

His groan vibrates into your mouth. Sanemi doesn’t have to open his eyes to know where you’re leading him; he’s treaded this very path to your bed too many times to count.

Oh, there’s plenty of time for this later, and he’ll happily indulge himself then. Besides, you’re even more sensitive in the mornings, and that means he’s guaranteed to coax two or three orgasms out of you with just his tongue before you both have to go to work in the morning, never mind what he’ll be able to do once he’s actually inside you. It’ll be worth holding off, for now.

But right now, his heart is too full, and tonight has been mending something inside of him he hadn’t known was broken. Something shy and curious, a remnant from the boy who might have secretly longed to know what it felt like to have a birthday mean something; to matter.

Still, he can’t resist fanning the fire a little, the hand on your hip sliding to your ass and squeezing, his fingers dangerously close to the dip in your thighs.

He lets you strip him down to his underwear and you to yours, since that’s how you prefer to sleep when not otherwise naked. Only when he feels your hand sliding down his bare abdomen does he still you, his fingers wrapping delicately around your wrist.

He feels your frown before he sees it. Cautious, your mouth breaks away from his and you lower yourself down from the tips of your toes.

A dent has notched itself between your eyebrows. “You don’t want —?”

Later, he’ll be sure to tell you that he wants you all the time — so much so that it might be a problem. But that’s not what tonight is about — not for him. For now, he can’t risk you discovering that he’s half-hard already; the second your hand finds him, he’ll be too erect to function, let alone think clearly.

He shakes his head. “Actually,” Sanemi hooks his arm around your waist and tugs you back against the bed, falling into your tower of pillows and blankets with you safely encased in his embrace. “I think I just wanna hold you, if that’s cool.”

Confusion flits briefly across your face before your eyes soften. “Of course. Don’t you know that birthdays mean you get whatever you want?”

He didn’t, but that doesn’t matter. Because this is why he loves you: you know, without him ever having to explain. You understand.

With a soft smile, Sanemi rolls to capture you under him, but braces himself above you long enough to allow you to sit up against the headboard. The moment you settle, Sanemi inches up beside you until he can rest his head on your stomach, his arm hugging your waist.

He swears he can hear your smile as you ask, “Happy?”

Exuberantly so; your body is soft in every way his isn’t, and warm. He’s in a heated, dimly lit apartment with no fear of the lights cutting out or the cold outside making his toes turn numb. The girl he loves, loves him back. Everything he hadn’t dared let himself wish for is now his, carding her beautiful fingers through his hair.

it’s almost perfect. Almost.

“Nah, I’ve got one more request.”

He leans over you and pulls a novel from the top of the stack that perpetually sits on your side of the bed, never shrinking. He hands it to you, meeting your inquisitive eyebrow with his smirk. “Read to me.”

He doesn’t care what book it is — whether it’s something he’s read before, or of a genre he isn’t all that into, it doesn’t matter. He just wants to hear you.

“A bedtime story? Really?” You tease, but you’re already flipping to the first page.

Content, Sanemi turns his face further into your stomach, burrowing harder into you. One hand still smoothing through his hair, you begin to read the prologue, pausing for dramatic effect where the passage calls for it. Slowly, the hours unfold as your voice weaves together the story — some high fantasy set in a distant world. Once upon a time, Sanemi would’ve wished he could dive into the pages of his book; anything to escape his reality.

Now, he can’t imagine being any place better than right here, with you.

—

It’s nearly midnight when Sanemi remembers Genya’s unanswered text still sitting in his inbox. Carefully, so as not to disturb you and your faint snoring, he untangles himself from you. One hand pats across the surface of your bedspread, searching for the small rectangle while the other gingerly removes the book still propped between your fingers. You’d made it about five chapters, your thumb still marking the page where you’d dozed off mid-passage.

Book in hand, he turns and tosses it on your threadbare rug, and it lands with a dull thump. He finds his phone near the foot of your bed. His eyes flick to you once to confirm that his gentle movements have not disturbed your well-earned rest.

Your mouth twitches with another light snore, and Sanemi smiles.

He clicks his phone to life, taking care to keep it turned away from you, mindful of the bright little screen. Quietly, he thumbs his answer to his brother. The moment he taps the send arrow, he tosses his phone back to the ground and reaches across the duvet for you once more.

A few hundred miles away inside a sleeping boys’ dormitory, under Zenitsu’s nasally snores and the odd, violent twitch from Inosuke, Genya’s phone buzzes from its place under his pillow.

Yeah. Good birthday.

REBLOGS AND COMMENTS APPRECIATED!!

[thealbatrovss]

nightmares come true // logan howlett x reader

summary: you get hurt during an intense battle

oneshot: ANGST, comfort. Swearing, injury, violence

word count: 2k

I’m currently taking fic requests btw!!! masterlist

The bleeding wouldn’t stop.

You could’ve sworn Logan described this exact scenario to you before. Down to the very last detail.

A few times actually. It was only ever after you calmed him down from the nightmares that he told you what they were really about.

They were the same, each time. Sometimes the location or clothes would vary, but the outcome never changed.

They were of you. Dying in his arms. In a pool of blood.

Death was something Logan never had to worry about. His powers wouldn’t allow it. But, when it came to you, that was a whole other matter. He thought about it all the time.

When the nightmares returned, and they returned often, they filled him with so much fear it scared you.

He woke with your name on his lips. You whispered words of comfort against his sweaty skin. And wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck and told him you were safe. That he was safe too.

All those nights, you combed through strains of wet hair and held him close, waiting for his breathing to steady. Sometimes his claws would come out. Thats when the night terrors were really bad. On one occasion, they accidentally cut you. Logan refused to sleep in the same bed for days after that.

He would always ask you if you were okay after those frightful dreams. Every single time. And you’d tell him you were and hoped he’d go back to sleep. But you knew he stayed up. Afraid take he’s eyes off you. Afraid the dreams would become real.

Were you slipping into that dream now?

Kurt held your head in his lap. He pressed down on the right side with shaking hands, muttering under his breath. Something about God and healing. You didn’t really know, your hearing and vision were both fading.

He applied more pressure to your wound. The pain was so bad you wanted to scream. It was the kind of pain that made it impossible to think, talk, breathe, or do anything.

Your heart was beating for its life. The pulse pounding in your brain right where it hurt the most. It grew bigger and bigger. Your head was a ticking time bomb, ready to explode.

The ship shook violently, the battle outside raging on. You thought you could hear Logan shouting for where you were. But you couldn’t tell. There was blood in your ears.

You pleaded with the universe that Logan wouldn’t see you like this.

Another shockwave hit the plane. You winced from the sudden movement, your brain throbbing underneath a relentless force.

“I need… I need to help them.”

But Kurt wouldn’t let you move. You caught a glimpse of crimson on his blue skin and underneath his nails as he gently pressed you down.

“They’ll be fine.” He assured you. You were too exhausted to protest, your body sagging against your friend. “You just need to stay still.”

The constant rocking back and forth of the plane and the ground rumbling beneath you wouldn’t let that happen. But Kurt kept you as steady as he could.

Flickering red and orange lights illuminated the windows. Smoke billowed past, creating dark clouds. You noticed you couldn’t smell the fires burning. You could only smell metal. There was a man shouting at Kurt to open the hatch.

He carefully laid your body on his jacket, now soaked with blood. Your blood. You'd have to buy him a new one if you made it out of this mess. The thought brought a weak smile to your face. Kurt pressed one of the control buttons and the hatch slowly opened.

Logan couldn’t wait for the hatch to finish opening before rushing in, still asking for you. His black suit was full of holes but his skin was completely healed over. Dirt and specks of blood stuck against the sweat on his face and hair. He was breathing hard, the smoke from the fires making their way into the ship. He covered his mouth, finding the button that closed the hatch.

Then he saw you. Lying on the cold floor. Blood seeping into a coat pocket, body trembling.

Logan felt sick. Like someone reached into his stomach and rearranged everything. No amount of metal or regeneration could protect him from something like this.

His jaw clenched, ready to burst at the seams. It was a rubber band wound up too tight. “What the fuck happened?”

“I don’t know.” Kurt stammered, still shaking. “I see someone falling, I grab them.” He returned to the same spot, putting pressure back on your skull. “We came here once I smelled the blood.”

A whimper escaped your mouth. Logan snapped out of the initial shock and made his way over to you. His knees hit the hard floor. He took your hand. Nausea overcame him when your blood went cold against his skin. “Hey. It’s me. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.” He kept repeating it. Just like he did in his night terrors.

This didn’t feel real. It couldn’t be.

Could it?

But it was.

He could sense it creeping in.

You weren’t supposed to be in this situation. Logan had gone out of his way to make sure something like this would never happen.

But sometimes, nightmares come true. And the worst one was unraveling right before him.

“Go… help.” You were wheezing. The rattle slithering out whenever you tried to speak. Was there blood in your lungs too?

What you said made him hold onto you that much tighter. “No way in hell. I’m not leaving you like this.”

He paused. From where he kneeled, he had a clear view of your injury. He wanted to tear those monsters outside to pieces.

You shut your eyes, face curled up in pain. Kurt continued to mutter prayers. Logan held your cold skin to his mouth, leaving frantic kisses on the back of your hand. It almost looked like he was praying too.

Then, a blood curdling scream irrupted from you. You screamed so hard that your legs thrashed and fingers tightened around Logan’s wrist. You’d never felt pain like this before. All consuming. Like a dragon swallowed you whole. Blades of flame and ice scattered along its esophagus.

Logan slammed his fist against the metal floor. “God dammit!” He was trying to keep himself from crying. A wild look overtook his eyes. He whipped his head towards the hatch and back to Kurt. “Go get Jean.” He ordered his teammate. “Now!”

Kurt nodded. He would not hesitate. He tried peeling Logan’s hands from your own, but Logan would not budge. He only looked more confused, hurt and angry.

Kurt sighed, pointing at you. “It’s for her.”

Logan let some of his anger dissipate, realizing what Kurt was trying to do. He let him guide his hands to your head and vanished into thin air as soon as Logan was in the proper place to care for you.

Logan pushed the fabric against the gash in your skull. Your eyes scrunched up again, teeth biting your lip.

“You’ll be fine.” He repeated over and over again. He soothed you with it. Cradled your head in his lap. Made sure to stay as still as he could. He put too little pressure on your head. As soon as he noticed, he put too much pressure on the wound. He eventually found the balance, watching your face twist back into a more comfortable position. “Nothing you can’t come back from.”

Something wet dripped onto your forehead. Mixing with your own tears. Was Logan bleeding too?

The darkness was inviting you to sleep. Yet, you didn’t want to leave Logan’s warm embrace. But you were so tired. And the nothingness was quiet. Your eyes fluttered, fighting the blood loss.

Panic shot through him. “Don’t you fucking dare.” His pleas grew more erratic. He was reaching for words that didn’t belong together. “The flowers in your room. You need to water them.” When did so much blood get in your hair? Your breathing became shallow. “Everyone gets hit in the head. Fucking get up.” You couldn’t smell anything anymore. Was his voice falling apart? “I think we should go home.”

There was a brief flash of blue that popped into your blurry view. Red hair swam front of your face. Cold hands taking over for him. There was more talking and cursing. You felt drunk in the head. Logan’s animalistic screams faded as he ran out of the hatch, claws unsheathed. Jean yelled for him to come back.

Then it was just darkness. A long sleep.

Logan was by your side when you woke up.

He nearly jumped out of his seat when he saw you struggling to open your eyes. But, he hesitated to touch you. Like one wrong move would send him back to that pool of blood and claustrophobic ship.

“Hey.” He let out a shaky breath.

With the pad of his thumb, he gently brushed away the crust underneath your eyelids. You could see much clearer now. The infirmary was empty except for the two of you. The lights overhead were nearly too bright to handle. Your head was still pounding. But the worst pain was in the chest, moving all the way to your back.

You noted the tear stains on his cheeks and the black, torn up X Men suit he was still wearing.

How long were you out? You really hoped he didn’t stay here watching over you for days on end. You needed him to take care of himself.

It took a while to gather the strength to speak. “Logan…” Your voice scratched the air. It still hurt to talk. “When did you last sleep?”

Logan let himself exhale once he heard your voice. You were alive. Right in front of him. But it didn’t feel real until now. “You of all people, are worried about me?” He chuckled, kissing your forehead, caressing your cheek. “Never change.”

You pushed your face into the palm of his hand. “Is everyone else okay?”

He nodded. That was good to hear. Everyone made it out of that hell hole safely. As soon as you were able to, you were going to go thank Kurt for everything he did. And buy him a new coat.

“See? Nightmare averted. You can sleep just fine now.”

His face fell. “No. I can’t. I won’t.”

“That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?” You motioned towards the water on the table. He sat on the edge of the bed and brought the straw to your lips. The water was cool against your dry tongue and sore throat. You let him put the drink back. “Was it that bad?”

He pursed his lips, tilting his head in discomfort. His fingers gripped the sides of the bed. They turned white against the blue sheets. “What do you think?”

“Can’t really think right now. My head is killing me.”

“And a collapsed lung.” He added. You thought he was going to break the bed.

Memories started flooding back to you. The powerful kick to the chest, the weapon slicing open your head. Then before you knew it, you were falling.

“I did a lot worse to that fucker than what he did to you. I made sure of it.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, his face curled up like he was in pain too. “This can’t happen again.”

Your throat was dry and it still hurt to talk, but you powered through. “I can’t promise you it won’t.”

He whipped his head around. He looked so tired. “You almost died last night.” The pain echoed off every single word. “It. Can’t. Happen. Again.”

You reached for his hand and he hesitated again. Eyes locked on the tiny injuries along your fingers. That’s where he kissed you as you lay dying.

“I’m sorry.” His fingers danced across your own, avoiding them like a crush.

“This isn’t your fault.”

“Sure feels like it is.”

You began to cough. Your bruised ribs hurt with each sharp inhale and exhale. Logan brought the straw back to your lips. “Jean will be back soon to check up on you. Take it easy, okay?” You swallowed, thanking him once again.

There was a pause, but not an uncomfortable one. “I think you should go get some rest.”

“I’m fine.” He picked at the fiber strains of your blanket. “I don’t sleep, I get a little tired. You don’t sleep, you can barely function. I get hurt, I heal just as quickly. You get hurt…” He stopped himself from finishing the sentence by biting down on the inside of his cheek. “God, I need a fucking drink.”

“Then go get one. After you take care of yourself.”

“That is taking care of myself.”

“No, it really isn’t.”

“Jesus.” He dragged his hands over his face. “You are not going to let this go?”

“Nope.” Logan wanted to kiss that stupid smirk off your lips.

He sighed. “I just don’t want to go through it again.”

“Maybe you’ll dream of something different this time. Something better.”

Jean walked into the room, still giving the two of you space. He knew you’d be fine with her. That you were safe now. But it still hurt to leave.

“Fine. I’ll go sleep or whatever.” Logan kissed your forehead one last time before standing up. “But then I’m coming right back.”

You watched him go with a weak smile. There was still a lot of healing to do, but you’d do it together.

[bvidzsoo]

Obliviate Me

✩‧₊˚ Obliviate ⇄ to forget [Latin] ✩‧₊˚

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: dark!Park Seonghwa x female reader

✩‧₊˚ Warning: smut, addiction, ptsd, mentions of war, violence, fights ✩‧₊˚ Word count: 27.6k ✩‧₊˚ Rating: nsfw ✩‧₊˚ Genre: Harry Potter!au, set in the forties/Grindelwald's time, lovers to enemies!au, tragic love!au ✩‧₊˚ Summary: ✩‧₊˚ Grindelwald's reign holds everyone under terror, and you decide you want to join the right side and put an end to it. But the stars seem to refuse to align for you and your lover as you find yourselves on opposing teams. Will your love prevail, or will you succumb to the darkness? ✩‧₊˚

A/N: My lovelies, I...I am bawling my eyes out ngl, I can't believe I wrote this. Bring a box of tissues with you before you sit down reading, I am already forever sorry if I cause anyone any heartache<3 I have proofread this, but it's past 1am and you might still find mistakes, so I'm sorry about that! There's little time jumps in here, so for a quick clarification, after each divider you'll find them back in the current time (which is still in the forties!). I probably had a lot more things to say, but I forgot and I'm sleepy, so I'll settle for this much: there are probably some inaccuracies to the Harry Potter canon events as I took some creative liberty so yeah, keep that in mind when reading; also Mingi and MC aren't related, they just share the same surname! I poured my blood, sweat, and tears into this oneshot y'all (as into everything I write LOL), so I hope you enjoy! I appreciate all of your thoughts, so please leave feedback, I love reading them!<3 (special shotout to @hwasbbyg because somehow I always have you in mind when I'm writing something Seonghwa related <3) divider

            Times were dire, both in the Wizarding World and the Muggle World. Supremist leaders with atrocious views unleashed attack after attack upon innocent civilians, creating more destruction than victory. My heart broke daily reading the newspaper, both the muggle and wizard one. It made my blood boil that two men, so different yet similar upon closer view, would play God and decide what was wrong and right. Who was pure and who deserved to suffer. Nobody was perfect, nobody will ever be. I couldn’t just sit idly at home and be the housewife many women dreamed of becoming after graduating. I wanted to make a name for myself, I wished to become strong enough to save the innocent, to take their side and advocate for those who were too scared or weak to do so for themselves. That is why upon graduating from Hogwarts, I became an Auror. The training was harsh and demanding, but it wasn’t anything I wasn’t ready to bear if it meant it would lead to saving millions of lives. I was sick of all the spilled blood and wailing on the streets, I wished to see peace and serenity, to go to bed without the fear of never waking up again. Four years have passed since I have left the confines of Hogwarts, since I was forced to face the horrors of the outside world, to fend for myself, and to become someone. It was hard and terrifying, but for once, I felt complete. I felt happy with where I stood in my life, I was proud of who I had become. And I knew that as long as Grindelwald isn’t stopped, I shall not rest even for a second.

The auditorium was small in size and stuffed, the benches placed in a circular shape around a platform that had a table sitting on it and a chair. It was deep down on the second level, far away from the Auror’s offices, hidden between the women’s and men’s restrooms. The auditorium wasn’t meant to be easily found and it was only used when a situation had turned dire, when an emergency meeting just had to be called. I had chosen to sit towards the back of the auditorium, closer to the exit as the air felt stale and warm inside the stuffed room, at least thirty aurors squeezed together towards the front of the room. My throat felt parched and my palms were sweaty as I had them placed in front of me, leveling my breaths as Theseus Scamander, the Head of the Auror Office, stood tall on the platform, a forlorn look on his face. Anyone who had picked up the newspaper earlier this morning must’ve seen the devastating news of the destruction caused to the small and welcoming wizarding village, Apo’s Nook. There was nothing left of it, just the ashes of ghosts that would haunt the land and the smoking foundations of destroyed homes that would never flourish again.

I felt a lump in my throat as Theseus sighed long and loud, eyes surveying the auditorium. It was deadly silent in here, everyone was either too mad or sad to say anything. The time was barely nine in the morning and we knew we had a long day ahead of us. This meeting was a top-secret one, whatever was said inside this auditorium would be never allowed to leave the confines of these walls. Only the best of the best aurors were called in, no doubt for a mission that would be challenging both physically and mentally. It wouldn’t be my first special mission, yet I couldn’t help but feel dread for what was to come. A tiny voice in the back of my head tried to whisper warnings this morning while I was getting ready to come to work, my gut twisting nauseatingly and making me more restless than I usually was. Something would happen here today that I wouldn’t like, and I couldn’t do anything about it.

“Good morning, aurors.” Theseus’ voice rang loudly in the quiet room and I gulped, feeling sweat collect on my nape, under my hair. I didn’t want to get rid of my jacket, finding the warmth it provided comforting, but I was sweating too much. Careful, not to make any sound, I wrestled out of the satin fabric and placed it onto the table in front of me. My dress was thick to protect me from the merciless winter, and it reached just below my ankles as the front had a V-cut that stopped just above the valley of my breasts, “I assume you all know by now why you’ve been called here.”

There was a collective murmur of confirmation to Theseus’ question and I gulped, patting my forehead free of any perspiration, “What occurred in the early hours of today’s morning is—terrible and unforgivable.”

I couldn’t help but let my eyes run over the aurors as Theseus’ voice shook with raw emotion. He was just as affected by the news as everyone else in the room. I fiddled with my fingers as my eyes finally fell on a familiar person, the tiniest smile slipping onto my lips. It brought little comfort and assurance to see my former professor in a place where I was surrounded by fearless warriors who were mere strangers to me, but would soon become my trusted companions. The only other two aurors that I did become friends with throughout the four years of working here were Song Mingi and Jeong Yunho, partners in missions and other aspects of life, and I haven’t seen them in over a month now. They were alive, and as safe as possible, but they were far away from our home, in a land colder and far scarier than what London was at the moment. They were close to the German border, spying on Grindelwald’s men having infiltrated themselves amongst them. They were our precious informants, their jobs far more dangerous than ours at the moment. I couldn’t help but pray every night to a God that listened, that the two people I started cherishing in such a short time would return to me in one piece and alive.

“Grindelwald has destroyed another village,” Theseus’ words snapped me out of my thoughts as Professor Dumbledore turned his head, gaze finding mine, “wizards and witches were killed once again because they refused to join his dark cause. This cannot go on anymore, I won’t allow it.”

Professor Dumbledore bowed his head slightly in a nonverbal greeting before he turned his head, looking at Theseus with an unreadable expression on his face. I gulped and subconsciously reached for the pocket of my coat, feeling around for the plastic holder in the shape of a tube.

“I was given full permission to construct a team that will directly take out Grindelwald’s men until he’s left with nothing, until he’s alone and powerless.” Theseus leered, face contorted into fury, “I shall task you with bringing down these disgraces one by one, dead or alive, I do not care as long they cannot help Grindelwald anymore.”

My fingers tightened around the plastic, my head turning when I saw a man stand up with a heavy-looking folder in his hands approach Theseus, “We have gathered all the information we could about Grindelwald’s most important wizards and witches, they are our main target. I want you all to look at these photographs closely, commit them to memory as each one of you will be handed one to capture and bring forth to the court.”

I watched from the back of the auditorium as the man opened the folder and placed it down on a table in the front row, starting to hand out photograph after photograph. Knowing that I sat way too far in the back, I rose to my feet and swiftly took the plastic bottle from my pocket, slipping it between my breasts so that nobody would see it. Pushing my hands behind my back, I walked down a few stairs until I reached the row that had more wizards sitting in it, grabbing a photograph that wasn’t being looked at yet. The picture was in black and white, but the face of the witch was clear. Something in my stomach coiled as I recognized her being my peer at Hogwarts, just a year above myself, and a Slytherin like I had been too. The man sitting next to me looked at me with a questioning gaze, and I passed him the photograph as he handed me another one, this one of an older wizard who had a cunning look in his eyes as he held a cigar between his teeth. Something was unsettling about his gaze as I leaned against the side of the table, passing it along as another then another photograph passed through my grasp as I committed their faces to memory. Some of these pictures seemed to have been taken recently, right at Apo’s Nook before it went up in flames. My jaw clenched as the witch in the next photograph was grinning widely as if she was taunting us, and I accidentally passed it to the man next to me a bit too harshly as he gave me a concerned look. I ignored him and took a deep breath, fingers itching to hold onto the plastic bottle hidden between my breasts. The news this morning had been too shocking, and I had no choice but to take two pills instead of one. It wasn’t healthy, but I did force my breakfast down my throat in hopes that it wouldn’t make me feel ill if I doubled the dose.

The next photograph that was passed to me was flipped upside down, and I sighed as I braced myself for another unfamiliar face to commit to memory, except that when I flipped it, my whole body froze, blood going cold. I tried to gulp, but I couldn’t due to the lump in my throat. My lungs contracted, and I desperately tried not to gasp as my fingers dug into the fragile paper and I fought the urge to rip the photograph into shreds. I knew this would happen sooner than later, but I realized how completely unprepared I was for it. The wizard in the photograph was smiling widely, the photo not recent at all, his round eyes turning upwards at the corners, his front teeth on full display. His hair had been freshly cut before the photograph was taken, yet it still fell in his eyes as he failed to style it—he was talented at many things, yet he never quite learned how to tame his wild hair. I could feel my hands start to shake the longer I stared at the face of my first love, my heart beating so fast my ears started to ring. I struggled to breathe and I knew I was turning pale as my lips parted, a quiet gasp leaving through them. It was enough to alert the man sitting next to me as I felt his eyes on me, but my body couldn’t react to anything as I crumbled up the photograph, throwing it far away from myself. I heard my name being called and words that sounded like they were asking if I was alright, but my vision had started turning black from the lack of oxygen. The room was too small, too stuffy, too warm; I couldn’t breathe.

Hands still shaking, I gripped my dress and lifted it above my ankles as I abruptly turned around, eyes settling on the exit desperately as I felt my feet take me up the stairs, running as I extended my hand way before I have reached the door to grab the handle. My heart was in my throat and the ringing in my ears was as loud as a kettle’s whistle, and I yanked the door open with all the force I could muster up due to the tremor of my whole body. The air of the hallway hit me hard, making me gasp loudly as I slammed the door shut behind me, feeling tears prick at my dry eyes as I flung myself forward, hands cushioning my crash as I flew into the wall in front of me, forehead banging against it. I needed it, I needed something painful to shake me out of my borderline psychotic state. I couldn’t take another pill so soon, I really just shouldn’t. I bit my lower lip as I struggled to take deep breaths, the tremors of my body worsening as my hands curled into fists, forcing me to close my eyes. The ringing in my ears had started to subside, but my heart was still beating way too fast and my throat was too dry. I really couldn’t take another pill just yet; however, my right hand was reaching for the bottle without wasting another second as I uncapped it and grabbed two pills out of it, throwing them back as my eyebrows furrowed, struggling to gulp them down at once.

I stood desperately waiting for the downers to kick in, the thumping of my head subsiding as the ringing of my ears went away completely, the tremors of my body remaining, however. I felt my muscles trying to relax, not even having noticed how tense they had become, and I gulped as I turned around to press my back against the wall, groaning as my head fell back. My throat had started hurting, the pills having scrapped it, but I couldn’t care less as my frantic heartbeat had finally started slowing down. I heard the door of the auditorium open, and my eyes opened as I watched my former professor approach me with a concerned look on his face. He held a plastic cup that he extended towards me, and I took it eagerly, downing the cool water as it finally soothed the ache in my throat. I crumpled the plastic in my fist, sighing long as I looked at Professor Dumbledore, wondering what was going through his mind having seen me in such a hysterical state.

“War is harsh,” As if reading my thoughts, his eyes twinkled with that familiar warm glint, “it affects everyone differently. You’ve seen things no woman your age should have, but you are a talented auror, Miss Song. However, I fear you won’t be amongst us for much longer if you continue abusing those.”

I felt shame crawl up my body as the professor’s eyes fell on the bottle, and I quickly hid it behind my back, “I’m sorry.”

I felt like a little child that was being scolded for doing something bad as I averted my gaze away from Professor Dumbledore’s, and sniffed as I noticed my heartbeat had finally returned to its natural rhythm.

“How are your parents doing, Miss Song?” Professor Dumbledore’s voice was soft, and I shrugged looking up at him.

“They are scared, as is everyone else.” I sighed, biting my lower lip, “I have moved them to the Wizarding World in hopes of keeping them safe, but nowhere is safe anymore, Professor.”

“It’s saddening, indeed.” The professor nodded, sharing my feelings of sadness that were slowly turning into despair, “But I think you did the right thing. The Wizarding World might not be the safest place at the moment, but it is a lot safer than the Muggle World.”

It was reassuring to hear the approval of my much wiser and smarter professor, and for a second, I believed that I had done something right for the first time in a long time. No matter how many dark wizards and witches I have captured, I never truly felt accomplished. It wasn’t enough, because I knew I could do better if sent on even more missions, and finally, the chance to fulfill my selfish desires while proving myself to be good and useful to my superiors, had come.

“Are you feeling any better now, Miss Song?” The professor’s eyebrows raised as I quickly hid the bottle back between my breasts and nodded, squaring my shoulders back. There it was, the condescending look of deep thought crossing the professor’s face as he looked towards the ground, humming lowly, “When it comes to the matters of the heart, it’s a slippery and unsure territory, Miss Song. You might think you are prepared to face whoever and take them out, but if you haven’t completely let go of them, your heart will outrule your conscious, your rationality. Even if you have long released the feelings you had once harbored for them, your more rational side might stop you, might hold you back from delivering the final blow.”

I felt tears trying to prick at my eyes as they snapped up, boring into Professor Dumbledore’s as he had a sad smile on his lips, “It’s difficult to forget your first love, Miss Song, no matter how deeply they have wronged you.”

The tremors in my hands haven’t disappeared and wouldn’t go away today, but they halted for a second as I gulped, throat feeling dry again, “He chose his path consciously, as I have chosen mine. Our beliefs have never truly aligned, it was just wishful thinking on my side, Professor. Love, an emotion I do not feel towards him anymore, isn’t stronger than my rational mind. If I would have allowed my heart to lead me throughout my life, I would be by his side now, wallowing in self-misery and pity for all the lives I allowed perish.”

“I have recognized your passion the moment you sat on the stool on the night of the sorting, Miss Song, you’ve known from the very first moment what you wanted and how to get it. I fear I haven’t met a Slytherin as determined and stubborn as yourself, Miss Song—”

“Not even Tom Riddle, sir?”

The professor’s expression suddenly became leveled, warm smile turning into a rather forced one, “I fear I cannot compare you to Tom Riddle, Miss Song.”

I hummed and smiled, memories of the younger boy bashing the professor for even the smallest inconvenience returning. I had never figured out where their distaste came for each other, but as it wasn’t my business, I never prodded more than necessary. I fixed my hair and made sure the little bottle couldn’t be seen as I glanced past the professor, feeling calm enough to join the aurors again, “We should head inside before they deem me unfit for this task, I would hate to miss out on this one, Professor.”

“They cannot afford to lose an auror like you.” Professor Dumbledore chuckled with a thoughtful look on his face as he led us towards the door, opening it for me like the true gentleman he was. I thanked him quietly as I stepped through the threshold, the lump back in my throat as the room went silent at once, everyone turning around to watch me and the professor as we descended the stairs. I went to sit at my initial spot, but Professor Dumbledore gently grabbed my elbow and veered me towards his seat, a witch making a place for me as she had an understanding look on her face.

“Is everything alright, Miss Song?” Theseus asked once the professor and I had taken our seats, the curious eyes of the other Aurors still watching me. I gulped and placed my hands on my knees, trying to hide the tremor behind the desk so that nobody would see it.

“Yes, Mr. Scamander, my apologies for storming out like that.” My voice was leveled as I forced my face to relax, and an easy smile appeared on my lips, “I felt a little ill this morning, I suppose it returned suddenly.”

“Right,” Theseus hummed, a smile matching mine on his lips, “that is reassuring to hear; however, I do wish for a quick recovery should it get worse.”

“Thank you.” I bowed my head as my hands fisted my dress, my heart rate picking up again as I felt the witch next to me gently rub my back. I wasn’t fond of being touched by strangers, but I didn’t have the willpower to ask her to stop. Finally, seemingly content with my half-assed lie, the attention wasn’t on me anymore as everyone went back to conversing with each other. Theseus cleared his throat and walked towards our table, Professor Dumbledore gathering the photographs as they were scattered around on the desk.

“While you were taking a breather, Miss Song, I have informed your colleagues that each one of them will be assigned a dark wizard to survey and consequently take down whenever the Office seems fitting.” I tried to gulp, my throat going dry once again. The witch was still rubbing my back and her touch had started burning my skin through my dress, making me fidget with my hands as I released the grip I had on my dress. I knew this was coming, but I didn’t feel ready. If I could’ve, I would’ve downed the whole bottle of pills, not minding if I would have been the one in need of a funeral.

“I see, Mr. Scamander, who had been assigned to me?” I felt the professor’s eyes take me in carefully as if I were a ticking time bomb, and the hand of the witch was finally away from my body, her sigh too loud as Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat.

“Records say you have been peers with Park Seonghwa at Hogwarts, yes?” I failed to inhale air as my lungs contracted, my worst nightmare lay right in front of my eyes and ears, “Professor Dumbledore, could you confirm this for me?”

“Yes, Mr. Scamander, Miss Song and Mr. Park had been my students barely four years ago.” My eyes burned as I blinked them fast, scared that tears would flood them as my hands shook more, itching to grab the bottle even if for little reassurance. The sedatives weren’t working as they should have, I shouldn’t be so wired up and nervous still. I figured I should buy something stronger; the muggles were more lenient when handing out sedatives than the wizards if you knew how to put on your best act.

“Indeed,” My voice was emotionless, and I knew my face was unreadable as Theseus’ eyes narrowed, “I know Park Seonghwa, but just merely. He was a great student I often had to compete with for the first place in our year.”

The longer Theseus’ eyes bore into mine, the more prominent the soft prodding in my forehead became. I knew what he was doing, way too familiar with the feeling of having my mind invaded. He was searching for memories of Seonghwa and me, of anything that could prove I wasn’t lying and that our roots didn’t grow deeper than a surface-level acquittance. It was laughable how easy it was to veer Theseus around my mind, to trick him into seeing only what I wanted him to see. He wasn’t a born Legilimens, I could feel he was less strong than the likes of Tom Riddle, who was a born natural in his talent, and so, I knew Theseus wouldn’t figure out that I—in fact—was a born Occlumens, the will of my mind stronger than his surface-level talent. I watched as a satisfied expression settled on his features upon viewing the images I allowed him to see, like the brief snappy exchanges between Seonghwa and me when we were in class, trying to show off to the professors, or the duels where we loved to flaunt our skills, or the brief acknowledgments in the hallway when we so happened to pass by each other.

“Very well, Miss Song,” Theseus muttered and then slammed a photograph down in front of me, a much younger Seonghwa smiling mockingly at me, “I trust you to do your best and bring him to his downfall. Mr. Park is an important asset to Grindelwald’s army; we need him gone.”

“He shall be gone, then.”

1943

            The classroom was full of vigor as everyone pilled inside, rather excited to see what Professor Merrythought had up her sleeve for us today. She had promised a dueling class sooner than later, and, as we happened to be ahead on our curriculum in DADA class, we got permission from Headmaster Dippet to go ahead and transform our usual classroom into a dueling ring. This year, the Slytherins shared most of their classes with the Ravenclaws, the DADA class being one of them. I let my eyes run over the crowd of the gathering 6th-year Ravenclaws on the other side of the classroom, pressed up against the wall much like myself and my housemates. Despite the majority of students being in their 6th year, Professor Merrythought found it essential that all students above the age of fourteen learn how to duel due to the imminent threat looming above our heads, both in the Wizarding and Muggle World. Therefore, it came as no surprise that younger students were ushered inside by Professor Merrythought, who had a grin on her face. Finding the person I had been looking for in the crowd, on the other side of the classroom, a tiny smile made it onto my lips as I found him already looking at me attentively. His dark hair, once again, fell wildly around his head in curls that looked natural, framing his boyish features as his round eyes sparkled with excitement. I chuckled and felt more elated knowing that Seonghwa was here, the chance of getting paired up with him was rather high as we were the top students of our year.

“Miss Song.” I flinched at the sudden intrusive voice in my head, always taken aback when I was addressed telepathically. I looked away from Seonghwa, eyes falling onto the boy—who despite being younger, was a lot taller than me—was now standing next to me with a stoic expression, ice-cold blue eyes boring into my darker ones. I chuckled and pressed a hand against my chest, always impressed by his skills despite his younger age.

“Mr. Riddle.” I greeted back with a grin, the small prodding at my forehead proof that our telepathic connection worked both ways. It was rare that Tom allowed me inside his mind, and even then, he knew how to guide me around his thoughts to show me only what he wanted me to see—a skill he learned from me, rather quickly. He had a natural talent for learning and achieving accomplishments that wizards and witches older than him struggled to garnish. He was an admirable student and a force to reckon with, I was never too eager when he challenged me to a friendly duel under the pretext of gaining experience by dueling a student who was as outstanding as himself—in reality, he only wished to show off and torment me in the confines of the Room of Requirements when the two of us would head over to study.

“Now, children,” Professor Merrythought clapped her hands together as she walked between the parting crowd of students, everyone watching her curiously, “as you may know, Headmaster Dippet had granted us another dueling session, and I am beyond excited to teach you new tricks that may as well save your lives in the future. The rules are the same as always, no serious spells aimed to harm, and no maiming, Madam Gorsemoor has far more important tasks than to heal some children who didn’t take the rules seriously, yes?”

Everyone muttered a ‘yes’ at once, and Professor Merrythought had a pleased grin on her lips as she pulled her wide shoulders back, her golden eyes surveying the crowd, probably counting how many of us were here. Usually, no more than twenty students were allowed inside the classroom as Professor Merrythought wished to watch and help everyone, not just those few she noticed lacking in their skill, “Can someone tell me what we’ve learned in our last class?”

Several hands shoot up high in the air, mine included, and I felt compelled to look over to the Ravenclaws, not surprised at all to see Seonghwa’s arm high up in the air, shoulders pulled back to make him look taller. I stifled a chuckle and faced the front of the classroom again, feeling Tom’s questioning gaze on the back of my head, but I paid him no mind.

“Mr. Lovegood, perhaps?” Professor Merrythought pointed at the platinum blonde-haired wizard from Ravenclaw, who stood on his tiptoes, about to bounce up and down to gain the professor’s attention.

“Diffindo!” He exclaimed, cheeks flushing instantly as the students from his house snickered, the Slytherins remaining uninterested, “I mean, Diffindo and Relashio.”

“Very well, Mr. Lovegood, thank you.” Professor Merrythought hummed, eyes narrowing as she looked over the crowd once again, her eyes stopping on me as I offered her a small smile.

“I must remind you that Diffindo is a spell that brings great harm if not death to your opponent, and inside this classroom, we shall not use it against each other. And even outside of it, I advise you use it wisely and level-headed only if the occurrence calls for it—”

“Like—if it were for Grindelwald to attack us?!” A younger boy—from Ravenclaw—asked, heads turning in his direction as he yet had to grow a few inches.

“Yes, that’s the likely scenario I had in mind.” Professor Merrythought muttered pleased, nodding at the curious boy with big round eyes. He reminded me of Seonghwa when we had just started our journey at Hogwarts, always eager to learn more and curious about how everything around him worked. Since then, his nature remained but he learned how to control it, how to make it less obvious how big of a nerd he actually was. Some would say he tries to impersonate the ‘cool guy’ archetype, but I know him too well to believe those silly ‘rumors’, “Well, before we learn something new, I’d like to see a duel from our best duellists.”

I gulped, feeling eyes bore into the side of my head as I looked over to Seonghwa again, finding his eyes on me already once again. He was smirking, round eyes fierce as we both knew who Professor Merrythought would call to the front for a demonstration, “Miss Song, Mr. Park, would you grace us with your presence?”

I heard Tom chuckle behind me, unamused, no doubt having known we’d be the chosen ones for this task. It was rarely not us, even Seonghwa and I knew it. I patted down the front of my robe, dusting it off, then squared my shoulders as I made my way through the crowd, getting a few pats on the back from people who I was familiar with. I had grabbed my wand out of my pocket, and Seonghwa and I made it to the front of the class at the same time. His smirk had turned cheeky as he held his wand in his hands elegantly, twirling it playfully as I took a few steps backward and then adjusted my stance.

“Miss Song.” Seonghwa’s voice was deep, tone almost seductive, and I couldn’t help but grin and narrow my eyes at him.

“Mr. Park.” My tone was confident and full of assurance because I knew I would win this duel. I usually did. Seonghwa was very good at dueling, but I was better since I was faster and more agile. I was also a little more talented at wandless magic than he was, I found it amusing whenever he’d exercise next to me, growing frustrated with himself way too quickly. Professor Merrythought clapped her hands and stepped back as Seonghwa and I bowed to each other, wands gripped firmly in our hands as we took our stance for the duel. I zeroed in on Seonghwa only, focusing on the movements of his body, eyes boring into his as if I would read his mind—I could, but I knew he hated it, and what I hated more was when I made him hurt. Seonghwa stood alert, his dark eyes boring into mine, a curious glint in them, laced with mischief and anticipation as he was patiently waiting for me to make my first move. He usually wasn’t the one to attack first, and we both knew that. We’ve dueled each other many times already, we knew each other’s tricks and weakest points.

“Stupefy!” I exclaimed, throwing my hand out, my wand pulsing with power as a light blue zap quickly shot towards Seonghwa, who expertly threw up his defense wall, nulling my attack with a pleased expression. I chuckled under my breath and raised an eyebrow as I threw my next attack at him, “Flipendo!”

Seonghwa huffed as another jinx was thrown his way, raising his arm high as he cast another shield in front of his body, eyes narrowing as he realized I was trying to get him to fly to the other side of the classroom. I knew he was wary of injuring himself, and unless I teased him a little bit at the beginning of our duel, I knew he would try to go easy on me. But I didn’t want easy and friendly, I wanted him to have no mercy and fight as if we were in a real fight, against each other, with only one winner standing tall in the end.

“Stupefy!” Seonghwa exclaimed, the same light blue zap flying towards me, making me easily block his attack as I threw my arms up, casting an invisible shield. Unlike Seonghwa’s, mine remained blue and violet ripples the tell-tale sign that there was something in front of me. Seonghwa narrowed his eyes, calculating his next move as I sent a hot air charm his way, which he dodged skilfully, his black hair falling into his eyes. Seonghwa chuckled and twirled the strands behind his ear, graciously raising his hand, not even looking my way as suddenly electric blue flames came barrelling towards my shield, making the students in the classroom gasp in surprise, but also fear. Someone had started clapping hard, and I knew it was Professor Merrythought as she enjoyed the show the most out of everyone.

Seonghwa was smart, and so, he knew the blue flames would demolish my shield without hurting me, and I could hear Professor Merrythought explain just this to the students who watched us with even more excitement in their eyes. Deciding to not verbalize my next spell, I winked at Seonghwa as I made the hand movement that was required for the Waddiwasi spell, Seonghwa realized a moment too late as, suddenly, crumbled up parchments floated around me for a second, before propelling towards Seonghwa with force and speed that left him defenseless. Seonghwa gasped as he turned sideways, the little balls of parchment crashing against the side of his body without causing any damage—physical because his ego was probably bruised—and the students started laughing as Seonghwa hissed, facing me once again with piercing eyes. I grinned and curtsied teasingly, enjoying the way his cheeks had flushed from embarrassment, his grip tightening around his black wand. His lips didn’t move, but his hand did, and I narrowed my eyes as for a second nothing happened, and then I felt invisible ropes binding around my body, trying to immobilize me as my eyes widened in surprise.

“Emancipare!” I yelped the counterattack of Brachiabindo, the defensive spell Seonghwa had used, and felt the ropes instantly disappear from my body. Seonghwa huffed, running his fingers through his rich curls, looking frustrated as he walked a few steps closer. It wasn’t like him to lose his wits when we were dueling, and so, this was the first sign that told me something was bothering him as he couldn’t completely focus on the task at hand. But this was an exercise, a duel in which we had to demonstrate to the other students, so I pushed my worries aside and cast my next spell, “Fulgari!”

Much like Seonghwa’s spell, it was another one that bid your arms together, however, the ropes weren’t invisible anymore but red and thick, painful, as the charm tied your wrists together tightly. But Seonghwa knew how to counterattack it, and the ropes dropped midair as a white light was cast from his wand. Knowing that we didn’t have much time anymore and that Professor Merrythought was waiting for one of us to disarm the other, I acted quickly, “Expelliarmus!”

However, Seonghwa’s simultaneous attack was silent as it shot from his wand, and our spells clashed in the middle, exploding with a loud boom after they’d tangled up for a few seconds. I gasped as the force pushed me backward, almost making me stumble to the floor. The hem of my robe had caught in the heel of my boots, and as I tried to manage the issue, I felt my mind being prodded at. Not even having to concentrate on the action, my mind instantly blocked the intruder out, my mind’s barriers strong and stubborn, no matter how insistent the intruder became. I knew who it was, in this classroom only Tom Riddle was so talented enough to use Legilimens wandless and non-verbally, but he was least of my worries as Seonghwa’s glare was deep, mouth moving before I could register his words, “Relashio!”

I gasped as my wand was snapped out of my hand, clattering to the floor, making the students roar with claps and cheers, Professor Merrythought not even trying to calm them down as she walked towards Seonghwa and me. I gulped, feeling my cheeks tinge pink at the amateur mistake I had made, the fact even more embarrassing as I was disarmed by such a pathetic spell. But this is what a duel encompassed, and I took a deep breath and released it slowly as I felt Professor Merrythought’s hand on my shoulder, pulling me next to her as she had grabbed onto Seonghwa as well.

“Brilliant!” She exclaimed lips pulled into a huge grin, “Simply brilliant, my students! You will make such fine Aurors, the department will be blessed upon your arrival!”

I muttered a quiet thank you and bowed my head abashed, missing the cold look that crossed Seonghwa’s face upon hearing our professor’s words. Then, when the class had finally settled down, Seonghwa and I were ushered back to our previous spots, Professor Merrythought taking the lead as she started explaining the new spell we’d be learning today. I felt the uncomfortable prodding once again, and a little frustrated, I turned around and snapped at Tom without considering my actions first, “Stop it, Riddle!”

My exclamation thankfully wasn’t too loud, but it made a few heads turn our way. I gulped and averted my eyes flustered as Tom grinned, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “My apologies, but I failed to gain your attention any other way.”

“I am trying to pay attention to the new spell, Riddle,” I muttered as I faced the front of the classroom again, feeling the younger boy step closer as he loomed over my shoulders.

“But you already know it,” He muttered, voice devoid of any emotion and I just sighed, nodding and confirming his claim, “Well, then, let me offer you some friendly advice.”

“The Tom Riddle offering me some friendly advice?” I teased, looking over my shoulder with a chuckle, “So you finally admit that we’re friends?”

“Well,” Tom cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable, “if you think of us as friends, we shall be that, Y/N.”

Tom hadn’t been keen on addressing each other casually in public, but he’s been calling me by my name rather often lately, “And your advice is?”

“Ah, yes,” He cleared his throat again, leaning just a little bit closer to whisper in my ear, “use more non-verbal spells next time and maybe even wandless magic too, Park seems to struggle to defend those. And, try not to lose focus so easily, getting disarmed by Relashio out of all spells is rather embarrassing, Miss Song.”

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms in front of my chest, watching Professor Merrythought’s wand as she drew the movement of the spell slowly for us to see, “Thank you for pointing out that Relashio isn’t even a disarming spell.”

It was rare to see any sort of positive reaction from Tom, but he snickered as I felt him take a step back to offer me more space as he was done with the conversation, “Meet me later in the Room of Requirements?”

But apparently, he wasn’t done with the telepathic conversation, “Yes, at the agreed-upon time, I won’t be late this time.”

“You better not be.” Tom’s voice sounded unimpressed in my mind and I rolled my eyes, hoping nobody saw it, “And tell your boyfriend to stop staring daggers at my head, I could disarm and harm him in just a few seconds—”

“Thank you, Tom, that’s enough.” I snapped, never too keen when he tried to bash Seonghwa and his skills—or lack of them as Tom had so often remarked, “And get out of my head, now.”

His chuckle was cut short as I raised the barrier once again, forcing Tom out of my mind. I knew it would be painful to him and I didn’t mind as lately he’s been trying to prod at my mind way too often. But being a born Occlumens came with its perks, no matter how much Tom tried to peek inside my head, he’d only be allowed inside as long as I let him. Having realized that he had some control issues, I didn’t let him know about that little piece of information, for my own peace of mind, really. Feeling like somebody was drilling holes into the side of my head, I looked over to the Ravenclaws, a little taken aback by the dark look in Seonghwa’s eyes and the sneer on his lips. He looked irritated, and as we made eye contact his expression hardened for a second before he looked away, ignoring me for the rest of the class. I had only sighed, paying attention to Professor Merrythought for the rest of the class.

            Once class was over everyone pilled outside quickly, eager for the short break before our next class would start. Wanting to speak to Seonghwa in private, I stayed back with the hopes that he’d do the same, but when Professor Merrythought noticed me and asked if I had wanted to speak to her, I realized it was just her, myself, and Lovegood in the classroom. I bid her farewell and then scurried outside, sighing long as I felt disappointed that Seonghwa had left without me even noticing it. He was mad at me, that was now certain, and we wouldn’t have the possibility to meet until dinner or our Prefect duties as this was the last class we shared today. I held the strap of my satchel bag tightly as I gnawed on my bottom lip, wondering whether I could use an excuse and search for him between my classes, when suddenly a classroom door was thrown open and I was harshly yanked to the left by my arm. I gasped as I stumbled, failing to keep up with the aggressive tugging, my back hitting a wall rather painfully as my heart had started racing, eyes widening as I felt warm lips pressing against mine. It took me a second to register what was happening.

I was face to face with Seonghwa, who had me pinned between himself and the wall, holding the side of my neck firmly with his right hand as his left one gripped my hip, fingers digging into the fabric of my uniform. His eyes were open and glaring at me despite his heated kiss, and it only made me flush more as I felt his tongue force itself between my lips while his fingers sneaked up towards my jaw, tilting my head up as he had to lean down, just slightly, due to our height difference. My heart hammered against my ribcage as the satchel bag fell from my shoulder, landing with a loud thud as I gripped his robe’s collar, the fabric a lot softer than mine. Seonghwa’s tongue lapped at mine fiercely, stealing my breath away as I felt his hand slip from my hip, trace the inside of my thigh as it slowly slipped underneath my knee-length skirt. I gasped and gently pushed him back, breathing hard as his right hand held my nape, fingernails pressing into my frail skin, “Seonghwa—”

“Did you have fun flirting with Riddle right in front of me?” His tone was harsh, voice raspier than usual, and I gulped, his hand slipping higher up underneath my skirt.

“Seonghwa, I wasn’t flirting with him.” My voice trembled as he leaned closer again, lips tracing the skin of my neck, feather-like, making goosebumps erupt all over my skin. My hands released the collar of his robe as they slipped higher up, circling his neck as my fingers got tangled in the wavy strands of his hair, “I’ve told you so many times that I’m not interested in him—”

“Well, you certainly don’t act like it.” I gasped as his sharp teeth sunk into the skin of my neck, making my stomach coil as his other hand stopped at my groin, caressing my flesh through my stockings, “I’m sick of seeing him prance around you like a lost puppy, my love.”

“He’s just a boy.” My eyebrows furrowed as Seonghwa’s head snapped up, a sneer on his face.

“Just a boy?” He scoffed and leaned incredibly close, lips brushing against mine as he spoke, “He’s barely one year younger than us, Y/N.”

Sighing loudly, I pressed a chaste kiss against his lips, seeing his eyes shake for a second, his anger dissipating slightly, “Yet I only see the little boy I guided to the Slytherin common room in his first year in him, my love, he’s nothing but like a brother to me.”

“He has no boundaries.” Seonghwa huffed, jaw clenching and unclenching as I kissed his cheek, right side and then left side, then pulled him slightly lower to kiss his forehead too. Seonghwa’s grip visibly softened, his finger rubbing circles into my hipbone under my skirt.

“I know how to put him in his place if he ever goes too far, which he has never done before.” I muttered reassuringly as I ran my fingers through his hair gently, knowing that he loved the ministration, “Abraxas is touchier than Tom will ever be, yet you make no scene when he’s with me.”

Seonghwa scoffed, gripping my chin as he tilted my head up again, “Because it’s clear he’s not interested in courting you, he’s touchy with everyone.”

I chuckled as I coaxed his lips towards mine, my eyes fluttering closed as Seonghwa’s lips gently, but firmly, pressed against mine, our lips playing a gentle dance as they moved at a calmer pace, following the other’s rhythm as I let Seonghwa take the lead, our lips slotting perfectly against each other. His breath hit my face as he nipped at my bottom lip, enjoying the way my lips chased after his again, capturing his bottom lip between mine as I felt his hand very slowly slip towards my crotch. I keened, pushing him back by the shoulders when he had started rubbing circles against my clothed core, “I need to get to the greenhouse, Hwa, we can’t do this now.”

“You can skip Herbology,” Seonghwa whispered as his lips brushed against my ear, I bit my bottom lip, eyes fluttering closed, “it’s not that important.”

Before I could succumb to the feeling of Seonghwa’s fingers teasing me, I gripped his wrist and pushed his hand away, blinking my eyes open, “I’m not going to skip classes because you want to have sex, Seonghwa. You can wait until tonight.”

“Yeah?” He grinned, round eyes glinting dangerously, “I can?”

“Unless you want to throw another jealous fit over the fact that I’ll be studying with Tom later on.” I mused and pursed my lips as Seonghwa’s expression hardened again. He was so easy to irk, his face hid nothing as I cocked an eyebrow in challenge at him.

“Right,” He muttered, clearing his throat, “You’ll be busy with Riddle this afternoon—”

“I’ll be busy perfecting my Legilimency, yes.” I raised my eyebrows at Seonghwa as he hummed and stepped back, detaching himself fully from me. I licked at my lips and ran my hands through my hair, trying to get rid of any knots that may have formed.

“Find me after you’re done patrolling, then,” Seonghwa adjusted his tie and then patted down his robe, “I won’t be coming to dinner tonight.”

“Something wrong?” I asked with furrowing eyebrows as I leaned down to pick up my satchel bag.

“No, I just need to catch up on some assignments, is all.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. I didn’t say anything as he caressed my cheek with his warm hand, “I love you.”

I smiled widely, turning my head lightly to press a kiss against his wrist, “I love you too, Hwa.”

            Despite the sun trying to shine some light on the dire streets of London, the ever-grey clouds were everlasting, casting a gloomy shadow over the streets and the people that ventured outside. Lately, it seemed to be safer to go out and enjoy the much-needed social interactions, but people were still wary of the imminent threat posing over their heads. You just never knew when the enemy would strike, making you look over your shoulder at any given moment. London wasn’t anymore what it used to be, but reconstructions have started and there seemed to be light at the end of the permeating dark tunnel.

My coffee’s steam reached my nose as I forgot of its existence, my eyes having fallen on two children who had their palms out and were timidly asking for money from the passerby people. My heart broke at the sight of such innocent lives having to suffer so much, unwanted scenarios clouding my mind. They could’ve lost their parents, or maybe they still had them, but the war made them homeless and this is was the best they could do. I hated how most people didn’t even cast a glance at the obviously suffering children, their clothes strewn in places, cheeks dirty with dust. They clung to each other, the boy taller by a head as he clutched the younger girl to his side, pulling her back when a postman paid them no mind as he barrelled down with his bicycle on the pavement. But before my anger could get the best of me, the bell to the small coffee shop chimed, and I looked over, heart settling at the familiarity of the man that was approaching my table. He wasn’t a coffee lover, not when we were mere teenagers, so I had ordered tea instead for him.

“Mr. Kim.” I smiled as I abandoned my cup and pushed my chair back, fighting the wide smile that tried to make it onto my lips. Kim Hongjoong and I haven’t been close during our days at Hogwarts, but due to a person that was present in both of our lives, we had the chance to share some fond memories. Hongjoong had always been a free spirit, unafraid to break rules here and there, trying to break free of the chains society placed on all of us. Even now, his hair was brushed back in an uncharacteristic way, the black ends tinged almost blonde. His clothes didn’t match in colour, his pants burgundy and his shirt a rather atrocious colour of yellow, the grey sweater thrown over it saving the outfit somewhat. His green coat was dark, and due to the colour of his pants, it made him look like a Christmas tree.

“Dear,” Hongjoong chuckled, his hug warm and comforting, arms circling my middle tightly, “are we back to being formal with each other now? Has it been that long since we left Hogwarts?”

I chuckled, arms tightening around him subconsciously as my chin pressed against his shoulder, eyes glazing over with sudden tears that took me off guard. I have missed the faces I have become familiar with at Hogwarts, the place where I was still innocent and in love with life, with the prospect of a bright future. A future that was now my present, neither bright nor innocent. I have never had many friends, keen on keeping to myself, and the life of an Auror made it hard to keep up with others. It was better for them; my field of work had no guarantee of me returning alive. And knowing that two of the people I considered my family, Mingi and Yunho, were first in line in harm’s way, made me prolong my hug with Hongjoong. It felt nice to be in a warm embrace for once.

“Four years and three months, more specifically.” I whispered as I reluctantly let go of Hongjoong, who gripped my bicep and gave it a reassuring squeeze before we both claimed our seats at the small round table.

“So, you’ve been counting,” Hongjoong muttered, looking down at his steaming hot tea, “as have I.”

I hummed, feeling a certain sad aura around Hongjoong as he carefully cradled the teacup in his hands, humming to himself as my eyes bore into the side of his head. I was curious of what was running through his mind, but entering it without his consent was a breech of privacy and the break of trust between the two of us. Picking his fragile mind apart would’ve been very easy. Finding what I was looking for would’ve taken only a few seconds and I could be on my merry way in no time, hunting down the man I was tasked to take out, but I was yearning for just a second of normalcy, for a second that could take me back to the past where I was happy, unafraid, in love.

“How is the Auror life, dear?” I smiled at the nickname, Hongjoong being the only person who’s ever addressed me so affectionately—besides my former lover, Seonghwa.

“Dangerous,” I sighed, raising my cup of coffee to take a small sip, “exhausting, and time consuming.”

“I’ve had to treat many Aurors since I’ve started working at St. Mungo’s, and each time I pray I do not come across you, dear.” Hongjoong’s expression was solemn, as if he was trying to repress memories that weren’t kind nor pleasant, “But you seem to be in great health, so I shall not worry so much anymore.”

I chuckled and placed the cup down, fingertips tracing the porcelain in order to keep my hands busy with something, “I’m rather agile, one of the best they have. But sometimes even I worry for my own safety, thank you for thinking of me so often, Hongjoongie.”

He smiled, reaching out to grab my wrist, “Sometimes I feel bad for the way things have ended between us—between the three of us, I mean.”

I gulped, the topic of Seonghwa inevitable anymore. But still, I tried to stall it for a little bit longer, trying to enjoy Hongjoong’s company for a little bit more before the real reason I was here would ruin our nostalgic reunion.

“Don’t fret on the past, Hongjoong, what’s lost is lost.” I gripped his hand with my right one, patting it gently, “How are the other nurses treating you at St. Mungo’s? I’ve heard there’s not many wizards working there.”

“The witches seem to love me,” Hongjoong chuckled, suddenly his cheeks red, “they praise me a lot and always fight on who gets to work with me. I’m treated nicely and they’ve accepted me rather quickly despite being a wizard.”

I gulped, knowing the tumultuous history of the Kim family, “And your parents?”

Hongjoong froze, eyebrows furrowing as he averted his eyes, “My mother is speaking to me again. My father…we know how he feels about me.”

“You’ve always done just fine without them,” I encouraged him, watching curiously as he grabbed my hand and flipped my palm upside down, “and if you need a friendly advice or just an evening spent drinking wine and reminiscing, you know were to find me, Hongjoongie.”

He chuckled, forefinger gingerly tracing the inside of my palm, making me shiver. It’s been long since someone had treated me so tenderly, ever since Yunho and Mingi have been sent onto their mission actually, “Have you cut yourself here?”

“Yes.” I answered surprised, “How did you know?”

“The skin is rougher here,” Hongjoong pressed his finger a little harder against where the cut was healed up, not even a trace of a scar, “Stop by St. Mungo’s when you have a little free time, I have the perfect potion to fix your skin. I’ve got quite the tricks up my sleeve now.”

As our eyes met, a beat of silence passed, then we both burst out in quiet giggles, pressing our hands against our mouths. Memories of all the failed potions made by Hongjoong resurfaced, most of those times Seonghwa or me being his test subjects. There were too few fingers on my hands to count the number of times Seonghwa, Hongjoong, and I had ended up in the Infirmary, on the brink of dying from dangerous toxins found in Hongjoong’s brews. And yet, we continued indulging in his shenanigans as he was too endearing to say ‘no’ to.

“I suppose you’ve stopped poisoning people now, right?” I raised an eyebrow, tone joking as Hongjoong bit his lower lip, cheeks flushing once again.

“No more failed experiments or potions that would send Slughorn up the wall if he were to know about them.” And once again, we started giggling behind our palms as Hongjoong seemed to finally loosen up, making me feel bad that I would soon deter the conversation to a delicate topic. But I didn’t have much time, I had to move fast if I wanted to catch Seonghwa when he least expected it.

“I suppose you meet all sorts of people at the hospital…” I trailed off as I grabbed my cup of coffee yet again and took a long sip, Hongjoong’s lips pursing as he traced the wooden design of the table.

“Yes, quite the personalities.” He mused, eyebrows raised slightly in question as I swallowed the coffee, biting my lower lip in hesitance.

“As a nurse your allegiances do not matter, you must save everyone—”

“That is correct.” Hongjoong’s tone had turned colder, his face losing its warm glow, a mask of indifference now replacing it. I sighed knowing that Hongjoong had probably caught on to where our conversation was headed now.

“I know you still keep in touch with Park Seonghwa.” I lowered my voice so nobody would hear us. Everyone knew who Grindelwald’s men were, I didn’t want to risk the chance of anyone overhearing our conversation, even if the coffee shop was only frequented by muggles. I chose this place for this specific reason, few wizards and witches ventured out into the heart of London, not keen of the life muggles lived here.

Hongjoong had frozen, jaw clenching as his cat-like eyes narrowed at me, “What does that have to do with me being a nurse at St. Mungo’s? Are you accusing me of something, Miss Song?”

I sighed, but I knew the jabbing was inevitable. Hongjoong had been very protective of Seonghwa even before our years at Hogwarts, “I am not accusing you of anything, I was just merely curious on who’s side you stand—”

“I stand on nobody’s side.” Hongjoong snapped, pushing his teacup far away from himself, glaring at it suspiciously. He must be wondering whether I had slipped Veritaserum in it, but I would never do that to him, “I stand on the side of the victims I must save, on the side of justice, and on the side that doesn’t harm but protects instead. Do you fathom there’s a side like that? One that does not harm, but only protects?”

“No.” I whispered, averting my eyes from Hongjoong’s intense gaze, visibly irritated, “We’re trying to do our best, I promise, but I cannot guarantee that innocent folk won’t be harmed in the process of stopping Grindelwald.”

“You’re just doing your job,” Hongjoong’s tone softened, “and so am I, and so is Seonghwa—”

“Seonghwa is killing innocent wizards and witches for a cause that is irrational, for a cause that aims to harm muggles that aren’t at fault for being the way that they are. This isn’t a job!” Hongjoong’s eyes widened as my voice gradually raised, never the type to lose my cool. My heart had started racing and I felt anxiety creeping up my chest, through my throat, making me chew on the inside of my cheeks. I scrapped at my hand, averting my eyes as Hongjoong’s stare became too much, making me feel like he was judging me. Maybe I have misjudged his character, maybe he is on Seonghwa’s side, after all.

“Y/N,” But his voice was soft and I felt his hand grip mine, gently stopping me from scratching my skin until it was raw and red, “I know how hard it was when you found out about Seonghwa’s ambitions and beliefs, and I know you still feel guilty and think you played a part in him becoming like this. But as someone who’s known him since he was a little boy, Seonghwa’s always dreamed of doing big things, of changing our world into the better. You couldn’t have stopped him even if you had known of his plans since early on—”

“Then help me.” I felt choked up as I looked at Hongjoong swiftly, eyes shaking as I gripped his hand. His eyebrows were furrowed and he gulped as my eyes glossed over, his words ringing through my ears. He was right, I have always felt guilty for not noticing the blatant signs of Seonghwa’s true beliefs. He’s never been kind to muggles at Hogwarts, he’s always made snide remarks about them, and he’s mentioned joining a cause one day that purified our Wizarding World. I thought he was simply aspiring to join the Ministry, like many others wanted. Instead, he decided to join the cause of a man who thought wizards were superior to muggles and wished to subdue them, and force them to live in fear for the rest of their lives, “I need to talk to Seonghwa, please tell me where he is. Hongjoongie, you’ll be helping a greater cause than yourself and even myself. I must find him and—”

“You’re an Auror, Y/N.” He cut me off sharply, yanking his hand out of my grip as he shook his head feverishly, “If you find him, then what? Will you interrogate him and lock him up in Azkaban for a few months until he gives in and admits to his mistakes? We both know that’s the last thing Seonghwa will do if he’s ever captured. You’ll kill him—”

“I won’t—”

“You’ll kill him, and I cannot set up my best friend for his death.” He snapped angrily, cheeks red as his eyes were tear-filled, “I cannot wrap my mind around the fact that you sought me out for such a feat. You should be ashamed of yourself, Miss Song, for even thinking that I would help you out with such an atrocious thing. I love Seonghwa more than anyone, you have deeply wounded me, Miss Song, I have expected more of you.”

“Hongjoong—” Heart breaking as he swiftly stood and left with a last piercing look, I slumped back in my chair and tried not to let the sob break through my lips, cheeks damp from the tears that fell down them. Yes, I have been a fool for seeking out Hongjoong, I knew he’d never give away Seonghwa’s location, but he was my first and last option in trying to find Seonghwa in a way that I could negotiate with him, try to deter him from his cause, save him from a harsh sentence. And I have failed, and now I’ll have to kill the man that I have never stopped loving.

Having lost my appetite for anything, I stood hastily and wore my dark coat, pulling on my gloves to protect my hands from the freezing air. I gathered my purse and clutched it tightly in my hands, storming out of the coffee shop as I felt around for my bonnet inside the purse. The heart of the city was buzzing with people as the hour was nearing noon, the loudness of it all irritating my ears as I tried to walk between the people to the closest Portkey leading to the Wizarding World. But just as I was about to cross the road, I felt a hesitant tug on my coat. Alarmed and ready to defend myself, I whirled around and searched for whoever had touched me, only to find the siblings looking up at me with pleading eyes. Tapping the tears off my cheeks quickly, I opened my purse and crouched down as I fetched the pastries I have bought earlier for breakfast.

“Have this,” I handed them to the little girl, who had a runny nose and whispered a ‘thank you’. I pushed around in search for the little muggle money I still had, and once I found it, I gave it to the boy who looked beyond grateful and even bowed his head in gratitude. Feeling helpless that I couldn’t do more for them, I grabbed the bonnet that I knew I wouldn’t wear again, and placed it onto the little girl’s head. It was big and it fell in her eyes, but she grinned as her brother tried to adjust it for her, making my heart swell, “Take care of each other.”

The two nodded with eyes glistening, and I gulped down the lump that’s formed in my throat and stood tall once again, hurrying away before I felt the overbearing need to break down in the middle of a muggle filled street. I would finish this mission even if I lost my life in the process of it, it didn’t matter, it didn’t matter because innocent children and innocent common folk were the one suffering the consequences of these tyrants that ruled over our worlds.

20th of December, 1943

             Slughorn’s Christmas parties were catalogued somewhat legendary and, thus, have always been talked about in the hallways of Hogwarts. Those who were invited mentioned it in excited exclamations and those who weren’t in whispers with envious tones. I had been part of the lucky few who got invited, being part of Slughorn’s Slug Club for a good two years now, and I couldn’t have been happier. These parties were perfect for mingling with socialites and people of importance in the Ministry and other fields that piqued your interest. I had been lucky enough to meet a few well-known Aurors tonight, but my utmost luck struck when, despite his drunken state, Professor Slughorn pulled me aside to introduce me Theseus Scamander, the Head of the Auror Office. The professor had rambled on about my abilities and how talented and knowledgeable I was in the Dark Arts, painting me as a very talented duellist to Mr. Scamander. He had been eager to listen to his former professor, giving me knowing glances and a dashing smile. I couldn’t help but blush a little, the Fire Whiskey I had—secretly—drunk with Abraxas getting the best of me. Unable to hide his amused smile anymore, Theseus had excused us with the pretext that we’d head over to the delicious candy bar and serve ourselves with chocolate frogs, to which our professor couldn’t object as, he, himself loved it.

“He’s quite the talker, isn’t he?” Theseus laughed as he gently guided me through the crowd of students and outsiders, his hand holding my gloved elbow. My dress was modest, adorning the emerald green of my house that I wore proudly. The neckline was a sweetheart design, sleeveless, and the upper part of the dress was moulded tightly against my body, a silvery fabric creating the illusion of a belt around my waist. From the waist, it flowed down to my ankles in a simple A-line, highlighting my long legs. I had a thin, sheer, shawl around my shoulders—but I have abandoned that at the dinner table as it had started annoying me—and instead wore my silvery satin gloves that reached just above my elbows.

“He certainly let’s go of himself when alcohol is involved.” I said quietly, earning a chuckle from Theseus as we reached the candy bar. It was hard to choose just one delicacy as the table was littered with at least fifteen types of desserts, and I watched as Theseus grabbed a plate rather eagerly.

“I couldn’t wait for the annual Christmas party back when I was a student here,” Theseus said as he started placing different delicacies on his plate, “the dessert was the best part of the night—apart from the Fire Whiskey.”

He glanced at me briefly and winked cheekily, making me chuckle as I averted my eyes with a shy blush on my cheeks. He chose a rose shaped tart that was filled with marzipan, and it reminded me of Seonghwa as it was his favourite dessert. Wondering where he was—since he had disappeared around half an hour ago—I searched the crowd while Theseus was busy filling his plate.

“Is it you who wants to be an Auror, or are your professors pushing you towards this job?” Theseus’ question earned my attention as I looked back at him, unsuccessful in my mission of finding Seonghwa.

“It is me.” I answered with a smile, fiddling with my fingers nervously, “I hate injustice, and I hate seeing our world get torn apart as Grindelwald is trying to ruin us. I want to help in stopping him, I want to be a figure that others can entrust their lives to. I want to protect the innocent, and I am not scared to sacrifice myself for others. And when he’ll finally be stopped, I will continue dedicating my life to help the right cause.”

Theseus hummed, his eyes softening as they quickly took in my form, a pleased look crossing his features, “You sound quite determined, and you look tough too. I have spoken to Professor Merrythought about any student she deemed fit for the role of an Auror, and I am positive she talked about you for almost an hour, Miss Song.”

I gulped, feeling warmth spread through my chest in happiness that I had been praised so extensively by my professor to a very important and prominent person in the Ministry, “I’ve still got two years until I graduate, but I hope to join you as soon as possible.”

“I cannot wait for that day to come, Miss Song.” Theseus grinned, grabbing the rose dessert, “I can already tell you’ll be great; you sort of remind me of myself, actually.”

“I do?” I asked with a surprised tone, feeling my smile get even bigger.

“Indeed.” Theseus hummed and then took a bite of the rose as I tried to contain my glee, my mouth hurting from smiling so widely. Suddenly, there was a presence next to me, and I felt a hand gently grip my shoulder, the hold familiar but rather cold. I turned my head and was met with Tom’s piercing-blue cold eyes looking down at me impassively.

“Mr. Scamander.” He greeted the Auror with a tight smile on his lips.

“Mr. Riddle.” Theseus was in the middle of chewing his dessert, but he quickly forced it down his throat and shook Tom’s hand.

“Do you mind if I steal Miss Song for a dance?” Tom’s voice was suddenly light, dripping with sweetness as his face morphed into a warm smile, “Have I interrupted an important conversation?”

“I have said what I wanted to Miss Song, if she wishes so, you can steal her for a dance.” Theseus winked, our gazes meeting as suddenly his thoughts flooded my mind. For a powerful Auror like him, it took me off guard to find his mind so defenceless. Perhaps he didn’t see a reason to guard his thoughts in the confines of Hogwarts, and before I could correct him that there was nothing between Tom and myself—as Theseus’ thoughts claimed—I was already whirled around and guided towards the crowded dance floor. The orchestra played a nice tune, slow but not to the point all you could do was step left and right. Tom placed his hand on the middle of my back as he held my hand in his other one, a respectable distance between our bodies as he started leading.

“Any reason you wanted to dance with me?” I asked with narrowed eyes, knowing for a fact that Tom never danced. He hated dancing or standing as close to somebody as we were stood right now.

“Hmm,” He hummed, his tone low and his voice pleasant to the ears as he spoke up again, “you looked like you needed a little saving.”

“Speaking to Mr. Scamander was pleasant,” I shrugged, holding onto Tom’s shoulder tighter as we narrowly avoided a drunken couple, “You could’ve tried to save me when I was talking to Professor Slughorn and the spouses that work at St. Mungo’s, instead. They are weird.”

“They are peculiar people, indeed.” Tom muttered, eyes falling on my face, “But they are incredibly smart and good assets to a team.”

“What team?” I asked confused, eyebrows furrowing. Tom was leading us out of the crowded dance floor, thankfully, more towards the side where we’d have more space and wouldn’t have to avoid every second drunken couple. A platinum blonde hair popped up in the crowd not far from us, and I stifled a laugh as Abraxas tried not to topple over as he was led towards the exit by his date.

“Well,” Tom started, eyebrows lightly furrowing as he mused over his words, like he didn’t know how to formulate his next words. That was unexpected from Tom as he was a good speaker, and an intelligent person, “let’s put it this way. You build an army of people that are magically gifted, but smart too, and you lead them to victory.”

“Why would you need this army?” I asked as I grew even more confused, “Are you talking about Grindelwald?”

“We can take him as an example, yes.” Tom chuckled, a smirk pulling at his lips as our eyes bore into each other’s, making me wonder for a split second if he was hiding something from me, “The people he has on his side aren’t just strong and powerful wizards and witches who excel at magic, they are also intelligent and strategize with him, leading him towards victory—”

“You think Grindelwald will prosper in this war?” I asked, feeling myself irked at such vile thoughts. Grindelwald wouldn’t win, I would become an Auror just to make sure of it.

“No, of course not.” Tom whispered, an easy smile adorning his lips and I felt his fingers gently rub against my knuckles. I sighed and looked away, surveying the crowd in hopes that I would finally find my lover. I missed him, I wanted to be by his side and dance with him, “Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Of course.” I chuckled, but my eyes were still searching the crowd as Tom cleared his throat, turning us around so that I was facing the exit now. My eyes stopped on the familiar form of my lover, and my eyebrows furrowed in wonder as I realized Seonghwa was speaking to Rabastan Lestrange and his parents, “Are you?”

“I hate these events, actually, even the Slug Club, but if I wish to remain in the graces of our daft professor, I must—”

“I am really sorry for cutting you off like this, Tom.” I released my hold on Tom and took a step back, eyes hastily falling back on the Slytherin boy, “But I’ve finally found my lover, I hope you don’t mind.”

“Right,” Tom’s expression faltered, then returned to being cold as he nodded towards Seonghwa, “I’ll see you around. But, Y/N, did you know Park and Lestrange have been acquittances for quite a while now?”

My eyebrows furrowed as I bit my lower lip, wondering if Seonghwa had ever mention Lestrange to me, “Of course, there are no secrets between Seonghwa and I.”

I felt the slight prodding at my mind, but Tom got nowhere near my thoughts as I have carefully guarded them all night. I bowed my head slightly before I walked away from the dance floor, nearing my lover and the Lestrange family with a soft smile on my lips. Rabastan was the first one to notice me, and he loudly cleared his throat, eyes jumping between Seonghwa and my approaching form. Seonghwa stiffened and I tried to mask my confusion as I stood next to my lover, “Good evening.”

“Good evening, Miss…?” Rabastan’s father was a gruff man, scary-looking, and rather unfriendly as his voice was harsh.

“Song, Song Y/N.” I answered and offered him my hand before I greeted his wife, who looked stoic and glared at me viciously. But I remained unphased as I continued smiling.

“Song,” She muttered, eyes narrowing as she shared a glance with her husband, “your parents are quite prominent figures in the Ministry, aren’t they?”

“Yes.” I answered, not keen of talking about my parents. It was always about them, never about me. They’ve made their own reputation already, I wanted to make one for myself.

“Y/N is just as brilliant as her parents, if not more.” Seonghwa mused with a warm tone, lips pulled into a dashing smile as I felt his arm sneak around my middle and gently pull me into his side. My muscles softened as his familiar warmth and cologne embraced my being, making me look up at him with a small grin. Rabastan’s parents exchanged a glance as their son cleared his throat again, looking rather awkward.

“And you make a pair, I assume.” Rabastan’s father quirked an eyebrow, not looking very impressed by the prospect. Before I could answer, Seonghwa hummed lowly and I felt his fingers flex against my hips in a quiet request to remain silent. I bit my bottom lip, but adhered to his request.

“Yes, Miss Song and I had been quite the academic rivals, but I suppose in our fifth year we found common ground and discovered together we are more powerful, our knowledge forever expanding.” Seonghwa’s answer made my eyebrows furrow as I turned my head to look at him with a questioning gaze, but he continued looking at the Lestranges, who seemed pleased with his answer.

“Well, yes, she is a Slytherin like our son,” Rabastan’s mother said with a chuckle that was filled with vice, “but she might take after her parents, after all.”

Fed up with the cryptic conversation, I chuckled and flashed the Rabastans an apologetic smile before I cradled Seonghwa’s cheek in my hand and turned his head to face me, “May we dance? You’ve neglected me the whole night, my love.”

“My apologies,” Seonghwa hummed and kissed my wrist as I let my hand fall from his face, the two of us looking back at the Lestranges, “It was a pleasure talking to you and meeting you Mr. and Mrs. Lestrange, I shall see you around—hopefully.”

They nodded wordlessly as Rabastan bid us farewell, and I intertwined my fingers with Seonghwa’s as I led us back to the dance floor, the crowd a little more dispersed now than it has been when I was dancing with Tom. The orchestra now had started playing slow tunes, all the dancing couples swaying gently to the music. I sighed as I felt Seonghwa’s arms slip around my hips to pull me close in, my arms circling his shoulders as our bodies flushed together, my nerves and muscles easing at the familiar press of his body against mine. Seonghwa’s round eyes had a warm glow in them, his cherry-like lips pulled into a soft smile. I chuckled and fought the muscles in my body yearning to press a kiss against his lips, and instead let my eyes travel down to the early Christmas gift I had given him earlier this morning. Seonghwa and I would be going home tomorrow, meaning that we wouldn’t spend the holidays together like last year, when Hongjoong, his best friend, decided to stay at Hogwarts due to his horrible parents and Seonghwa and I decided to stay too, to keep him company. It was one of the best Christmases I have ever had.

My gift was something small, a thin silver chain necklace with a small star pendant hanging on it, representing the way I viewed Seonghwa. He was bright and beautiful, always glimmering in the darkness and guiding me through my hardships, helping me sparkle as bright as him. He was an inspiration and so easily lovable that sometimes I felt like I fell for him over and over again each day.

“I had no idea you knew Rabastan Lestrange?” I raised an eyebrow as Seonghwa sighed, our moves smooth as he twirled us around.

“Barely.” He muttered, dipping his head low, his breath fanning my face, “Did Professor Slughorn introduce you to Theseus Scamander? I saw you talking to him.”

“He did!” I beamed, Seonghwa’s eyes creasing as he smiled back at me, “I am so happy I met him tonight, he said he cannot wait for me to join the Auror’s Office.”

“Is that so?” Seonghwa hummed, making my eyebrows furrow in confusion. He didn’t look too eager, but he chuckled upon seeing my reaction, it didn’t sound amused, “With how eager Riddle was to whisk you away for a dance, I figured you couldn’t talk much to Mr. Scamander.”

“Seonghwa,” I sighed, interlacing my fingers around his neck as I tilted my head back, “can we not do this here? Can we just not talk about Tom for one second?”

“How can I not talk about Riddle when he’s openly trying to court my partner—”

“Seonghwa.” I snapped quietly as I didn’t want anyone to overhear our useless argument, “Tom hates every female that breaths around him withing a meter radius, can you please for the love of Merlin stop this nonsense?!”

“I cannot.” He hissed, eyes narrowing as our steps faltered, “You fail to see the issue at hand, Y/N, he hates every female but you. And I cannot stand that—”

“Why are you so jealous when I have never given you a reason to be?” I cut him off, eyebrows furrowing in annoyance.

“Because you’re mine and I cannot fathom losing you, I just—”

“Park Seonghwa.” I sighed, cupping his cheeks as I shook my head at him, “You are the love of my life, I have never loved anyone before you and I will never love anyone else but you. I don’t want anyone else that isn’t you, and I will never do. You are my star and the reason I live for, and I trust you with my whole being and have given all of myself to you. Sometimes—I just wish you trusted me as much as I trust you. When you act like this, you make me feel guilty and bad, like I don’t deserve your love and you.”

Seonghwa’s bottom lip was between his teeth and he released a long sigh as his hands sneaked back to grip my hips, “Only Merlin know how much I love you, Y/N, how much faith I have in you, and just how much I trust you. It’s this irrational fear that I will lose you if I make a wrong move that makes me act like this. I don’t even care about Riddle—or anyone else—if I have one fear, it’s that of losing the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I might be your star, but a star cannot shine without darkness. I need you, promise me you’ll stay by my side no matter what.”

“I promise to forever stay by your side, Hwa.”

            Hongjoong was a good friend to Seonghwa, righteous, and ferociously protective. But even Hongjoong could tell apart right from wrong, unlike Seonghwa. And when I had gotten home after meeting him at the coffee shop, in the haste of searching for my yellow bottle of pills as my hands had started trembling once again, I found a small rolled up paper nestled between the white tablets. Eager to swallow the sedatives, I held the paper carefully, and after downing two tablets, I unrolled the paper, eyebrows furrowing when I realized it was an address to a fancy place in high-end London, where socialites mingled to their hearts wishes—both muggles, wizards, and witches alike. Hongjoong would never help me in taking down his best friend, but he also knew I was offering his best friend the easy way out this time. I would let him flee if he promises to never show himself around Grindelwald—I would do that because it’s Seonghwa. Because I cannot imagine a life without him even if he’s not by my side, just the thought of knowing he’s out there breathing and living keeps me going.

The casino Hongjoong had given me the address of was fancy and elite, only those who had an invite could enter. But I had connections, getting in was the easiest part. And perhaps, feeling nostalgic after having seen Hongjoong, I yearned to see more familiar faces that reminded me of my innocent childhood, familiar faces that could help me forget that I haven’t heard from Mingi and Yunho in a week. They were alive, that much we knew, but we had no idea if they had been discovered or injured, or if they have gone low-key in order to have even fewer chances of compromising their mission. Nonetheless, when I sent an owl to an old-time friend, I did not expect to receive an answer this eager, at least not from this particular person. Having taken my time to tidy up and make myself presentable, I slipped my bottle of pills inside my purse, knowing that there were great chances I would be seeing Seonghwa tonight—that was the whole point of me going to the casino. I was restless all day long and I had probably already taken too many of them, but the tremors of my hands never once stopped, and I could feel my heart race all day long. It was unsettling, but I knew there was nothing more I could do about it but slip the bottle in my purse and pray to Merlin for a successful mission. If I managed to get Seonghwa on my side tonight, much would change—the war would change.

There was a light smog in the air of London as I neared the casino, the evening breeze pleasant for once as the cobblestones were slippery from the previous rain. There was a light drizzle in the air still, but the invisible shield I had casted around myself to protect me from it was doing its job fairly well to keep me dry. My fur coat kept me warm as the nature of my dress was more daring tonight, attention grabbing on purpose. As I neared the entrance of the casino, lit up brightly and bustling with ladies and gentlemen that had bright smiles on their faces, I noticed a tall figure looming to the side in the darker corner of the street. Heartbeat halting, I hurried my steps as I clutched the invitation tighter in my hands, eager to see the man’s face from up-close. It’s been a few years since we’ve seen each other, I didn’t think he’d actually join me tonight. I knew he had his own ambitions, what those were exactly, I couldn’t tell. He’s always been secretive, but he’s made quite the reputation for himself after finishing Hogwarts. He was a young promising man, eager to chase after his desires.

“Miss Song!” His voice had gotten deeper over the years, but remained as velvety as always. My lips pulled into a smile as I was finally close enough to see his face clearly, and I was taken aback by the obvious changes the years have brought to his once youthful face. His eyes were still as bright and blue, perhaps even icier than they used to be, but his cheekbones had become hollower, skin ashier. He looked good, but he looked ghastly.

“Mr. Riddle.” I came to a stop in front of him with a big smile on my face, and was taken aback by the arms that have wrapped around me in a hug. Tom had always hated physical contact, I wondered if the passing of years had changed that, “You’ve changed. A lot.”

“Hopefully in a good way.” He chuckled as he released me, smirking dashingly at me. I would be lying if I said my heart didn’t skip a beat. I chuckled and shook my head, taking in his even taller, but lanky, form.

“I suppose yes,” I hummed, realizing that there were no traces of the young boy I have once viewed as perhaps my little brother, “You’ve grown taller, I didn’t think that was possible.”

Tom and I chuckled at the same time as he reached out again, squeezing my lower arm, “And you look stronger than ever.”

I hummed and tried to hide the way my tremors only worsened at his words, wanting to tell him that I was on the brink of falling apart every day. I wasn’t strong, I was far from being strong, I just refused to give in to the darkness until I have fulfilled my purpose, then I could finally let go. Give in to whatever madness threatened to pull my thoughts to an everlasting field of blackness, the stars absent from the night sky. Stars that have long abandoned me, left me alone to fend for myself, to figure things out without a guiding light.

“Let’s head inside, I’m beginning to feel cold.” I muttered as Tom hummed, offering his arm for me to take as he confidently waltzed us towards the entrance, the bouncer smiling at us pleasantly as I handed over our invitation. It seems that he already knew Tom, who, it turns out, frequents this casino rather often. The question was on the tip of my tongue, whether he sees Seonghwa here often or not, but I didn’t want to know. It was better not to know. I couldn’t start questioning Tom’s morality right now, I had to stay focused on the task at hand, which was finding Seonghwa and trying to coerce him onto my side.

            The place was buzzing with all sorts of people, all seemingly eager to socialize and make lasting connections. The interior of the casino was vast and covered in red and black décor, giving it a sultry but eloquent touch. We had barely walked in when our coats and purses were taken to a garderobe for safe keeping. And before Tom could explain much about the place and the type of events that were held here, we were swarmed by quite a few wizards and witches, all very keen of talking to Tom, of holding his attention for more than five minutes. It seems like that hasn’t changed since Hogwarts.

I remained by his side and smiled, only spoke up when I was addressed to as I was too busy searching the room—the crowd—for the familiar face that I was here in the first place. I had opted to wear a long-sleeved dress as it was still cold outside, the velvet fabric feeling soft against my skin, keeping me perhaps too warm inside the parched room. The neckline of it was a deeper cut, just shy of stopping at the swell of my breasts, and I had decorated my long neck with emeralds that glinted prettily under the light. The dress was long, I had to be careful not to step on it with the heel of my high heels, and it was a poison green, tricky as under the light it glimmered green, however, otherwise it appeared black. I had pulled my hair away from my face and curled the strands, letting them fall free against my back as simple emerald earrings decorated my ears.

I was itching to hold onto something as I tried not to fidget with my hands, preferably to feel the comforting weight of the bottle of pills, but as they were hidden away in my purse, the only reassurance that I wasn’t completely defenceless lay hidden under my long dress, strapped against my shin was my wand. Over the years, I have learned to excel in wandless magic completely, but just knowing that I had my wand on me helped ease my nervous heartbeat. My eyes never stopped surveying the crowd, waiting to spot those round eyes and cherry-red lips.

“Aren’t you the Songs’ daughter, my dear?” I felt a lady gently touch my arm in order to grab my attention, and I averted my eyes from the back of a man who seemed to have a form similar to Seonghwa’s.

“I am.” I answered the older lady with a pleasant smile, trying to seem cordial despite my nerves.

“Oh, you are gorgeous.” She whispered, fingering the velvet sleeve of my dress, lips pursed, “You were a Slytherin, yes?”

“Yes.” I hummed, glancing side ways at Tom, wondering whether he could save me from this stranger, but he was busy speaking to who seemed to be the lady’s husband, “Does that matter?”

“Well, Slytherins are highly regarded in our society, we are prestige, you know?” The old lady smirked, and I gently pulled my hands behind my back, feeling uncomfortable that she wouldn’t stop touching my dress.

“I wouldn’t call ourselves prestige when most from our house turn towards the usage of the Dark Arts in inconvenient and illegal ways.” I grumbled, trying to hide my distaste as the older lady chuckled, eyes narrowing at me.

“So, you seem to share your parents’ beliefs, after all.” I heaved a long sigh, looking at the lady with a pressing glare. It was always about my parents, about sharing their beliefs. I was fed up with hearing that over and over again. What did people expect of me? To follow the ‘path’ of other Slytherins and join dark causes? Why did everyone have prejudices of us? And most of all, why did everyone assume all Slytherins were evil and would turn against what was right to do?

“My parents are mighty people and proud of their legacy.” My voice was harsh as I squared my shoulders back, the older lady’s eyes slightly widened, “My mother was a Hufflepuff and she raised me with compassion and fierce love that taught me how to differentiate wrong from right. My father was a Ravenclaw that is beyond wise his years and values knowledge above anything else, he taught me that there is no reason to live if you don’t learn constantly, if you don’t find a passion that you excel in. Excuse me if I find no joy in slaying those innocents around me, if I don’t enjoy tea parties organized to discuss who would and who wouldn’t live another day. You, and everyone else, should know basic human decency and stop playing the Gods you’ll never be. I am Slytherin proud of my heritage, and Merlin be damned if I let another one look down on me because of my parents, who have achieved things far beyond your capability in this fragile life that we live. So, if you happen to have a problem with me, or the fact that I am a Song, please, speak to be bluntly and not in riddles.”

The older lady’s mouth hung open in shock, and we have earned the attention of Tom and the man he was talking to, the two looking just as taken aback as the lady. Well, Tom didn’t look that much surprised, his frown told me of his distaste towards my words, and the swift glare sent my way signalled to me to shut up. But I didn’t want to, my nerves were on a high and if one more person mentions my parents and the fact that I am the ‘Songs’ daughter’, I shall repeat my speech proud and loud for the whole room to hear. It wasn’t hard to guess that it was infested with Grindelwald’s people, and my stomach churned as I felt Tom’s fingers sneak around my wrist, holding it so firmly I almost winced in pain.

“She’s opiniated.” Is what the old man said at last, eyes narrowed as he pulled his wife closer into his side, “Is this who you’ve looked up to at Hogwarts? The woman you’ve mentioned before?”

My breath stilled as I looked at Tom confused, feeling suddenly uncomfortable as I tried to untangle his fingers from my wrist but he wasn’t letting go. Was Seonghwa right all along? Was Tom trying to veer me away from Seonghwa while we were at Hogwarts? Had I been actually blind to Tom’s advances? But that mustn’t have been possible, I’ve heard Tom say multiple times that he wasn’t capable of feeling love for anyone, nor was he interested in maintaining any relationships, not even friendships.

“I apologize for her harsh words,” Tom bowed his head humbly, making my eyebrows furrow, “in her field of work she must be blunt and unfiltered, sometimes that slips into her everyday life too.”

I grit my teeth, but remained silent as the older man chuckled, eyes twinkling as he took me in. My face was a mask of impassiveness despite the urge to jinx both him and his wife. Deciding that I didn’t want to partake in this wretched conversation anymore, I turned my head and allowed my eyes to survey the crowd again. I heard Tom’s voice, but I paid no mind to what words were said. I knew the older couple walked away with a laugh on their lips, and I felt Tom’s eyes piercing the side of my head, but I was frozen. My tremors returned in the worst way, making my arms tremble as I tried to gulp but my throat felt dry, eyes glassing over the longer I looked at the familiar, yet so foreign face of my once lover. He was far from us, in the heart of the crowd as he tipped his head back, lips pulled into a charming smile as he laughed. The sound was swallowed by the cacophony created by the conversing people and the playing orchestra, yet I could hear its warm timbre as if he were right next to me.

He had also changed, became less boyish looking and turned sharper in angles he didn’t have before. His jaw was sharp and his nose tall, his round eyes void of the softness I was so used to receiving from him. His cheekbones were more defined than before, his cheeks having lost the baby fat I so loved pinching, and his black hair was longer than I have ever seen it before, framing his face, falling onto his forehead as his bangs were styled carefully. Gone were his wild curls that he always struggled to keep in one place. Park Seonghwa has changed since the last time I’ve seen him, and I was afraid I couldn’t recognize him anymore. Had Grindelwald stolen away even the last remnants of my lover?

“I can’t breathe.” I croaked out as I held onto my middle, my muscles so tense I was in pain as I tried not to double over and empty the contents of my stomach. I needed my pills, I had to take them before I would cause a scene. Suddenly, as Seonghwa’s eyebrows furrowed and his eyes turned sharp, vigilante, and found mine, Tom obscured my view of him, eyebrows furrowed in concern, yet I couldn’t actually see the concern in his eyes, or on his face.

“Let’s head over to the bar,” He said quietly, grabbing my hand and stopping the absent-minded scratching I had started doing, “water will do you good.”

I hummed, unable to will my legs to move, and felt thankful when Tom gently coerced me towards the bar, nestling my arm in his as he pulled me into his side, his cologne foreign. There was nothing comforting about his presence, unlike how Hongjoong’s had been, and I struggled to regulate my breathing and frantic heartbeats, telling myself that I was here on a mission and that I had to place aside any feelings I felt towards Seonghwa. I couldn’t compromise my mission this way, I was here to offer Seonghwa a way out. If I wasn’t able to keep it together for just one night, then why was I even here?

Too wrapped up in my mind, I didn’t hear Tom speak to the bartender, nor did I see the glass of water that was placed in front of me until Tom poked my trembling hands and pushed the glass towards me. I quickly took it and gulped down the cool water in a few sips, thankful that the ache in my throat was finally soothed. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath as I placed the glass back onto the surface of the bar, willing my muscles to loosen up as I licked my lips, Tom’s pressing stare becoming irritating. I exhaled slowly and opened my eyes, glancing over to Tom, voice raspy as I spoke up, “Thank you.”

“I’m here for you.” Tom muttered, grabbing my hand and making the hairs stand on my arms as I didn’t want to be touched. But I said nothing as I gulped and nodded once, focusing on my trembling hands as I knew Tom had noticed them, his eyes straying towards them. If only I could fetch my purse to take just one pill, it would help a lot right now. I sighed and had started pulling my hand away from Tom’s just as a person appeared right next to Tom, lean body leaning against the bar as his eyes were cold, narrow, and piercing.

“Good evening.” He spoke up upon making eye contact with me, and I forgot how to breathe all over again, “Miss Song, Mr. Riddle.”

“Mr. Park.” My voice was a mere whisper as our eyes bore into each other, mine desperately searching for a semblance of the man I used to love. But it was gone, innocence and youth long ripped from him, now only a shell of the dorky and geeky boy that used to recite poems to me that he found in muggle books. It broke my heart; it made me mad—it made my hands tremble even worse.

“Oh, and who are these?” A very thick accented female voice spoke up, her dark red lips pulled into a pleasant and friendly smile as her eyes rivalled Tom’s blueness. I gulped, eyes straying from her onto Seonghwa as he looked down at her, his expression softening as he placed an arm around her middle. I didn’t allow myself to feel anything upon seeing that as my eyes snapped back up to Seonghwa’s face, waiting for his next move.

“Old acquittances from Hogwarts.” He said easily, flashing the woman a quick fake smile, “This is Rhaena, she went to Beauxbatons.”

“Pleased to meet you!” Her French accent was irritating as she extended her hand to shake, eyes stalling on Tom for a second too long. I bit the insides of my cheeks, trying to reign in my scowl as Tom elegantly pressed a kiss against her knuckles, smirking at her with a charming gaze.

“My name is Song Y/N.” I introduced myself confidently once it was my turn to shake her hand, my handshake firm and perhaps too strong as Rhaena winced while my eyes landed on Seonghwa, my own lips pulling into an unamused smirk, “I must admit being introduced as mere acquittances leaves me with a distaste I didn’t think I’d harbour towards you, Mr. Park.”

Tom laughed loudly, watching Seonghwa with a challenging look as Rhaena turned and looked back at him with a quirk to her eyebrow, “My memories must be murky, my apologies, it’s been long since we’ve last seen each other, Miss Song. But I see you continue entertaining your old admirers—”

“Admirer is a strong word,” Tom cut him off with a chuckle, but it was far from being friendly as he glared at Seonghwa, “I merely admire Miss Song’s working etiquette, always have, ever since our time at Hogwarts, I suppose. Is it such a crime to look up to a strong, ambitious, and independent woman?”

I could see the spark of interest in Rhaena’s eyes the longer Tom talked, and it irked me. If she was with Seonghwa, why was she so openly interested in other men? Did Seonghwa not see? Did he not care? Seonghwa deserved better than a woman who couldn’t remain loyal to him.

“Ambitious with foolish ideas—” Before Seonghwa could finish his jab and break my heart more than it was already, Rhaena interjected, smiling widely at Tom. I knew he wasn’t interested in her, but it was scary how well he played his act of looking interested in the eager woman.

“I have always loved a man who is able to recognize the power his partner holds and worship her like a queen.” Rhaena’s lips pulled into a suggestive smirk as she licked her lips, eyes raking over Tom’s body, making me feel uncomfortable as I eyed the two. Tom chuckled under his breath but I noticed the way his jaw clenched and unclenched.

“You’re too daring for me, Miss Rhaena.” Tom settled with saying, making the French woman pout as she suddenly pressed herself to Seonghwa’s side, who was glaring at Tom’s blatant rejection.

“And Miss Song isn’t?” Seonghwa’s lips pulled into a vicious smile, face contorting into something sinister as he continued with an air of insignificance, “After all, Aurors take great pride in their work and never place anyone above themselves.”

“Miss Song knows the distinction between her personal life and her work.” Tom snapped back, grabbing the sleeve of my dress when I started shuffling on my feet, feeling uncomfortable by the exchange. I felt a little prodding in my mind and as I glanced at Tom, he was already looking at me with a frown. I nonverbally reassured him that I was okay, and finally admitted to him that I was here on a mission. He understood quickly and didn’t ask questions, only stated that he’d help me with whatever.

“So, you two are married, then? Rhaena kept on antagonizing us as our telepathic conversation was broken, and my eyebrows furrowed as I scoffed.

“Tom is an old friend that I have always been fond of, are you married to Seonghwa?” Perhaps my tone was too snappy, perhaps my words gave away too much. I gulped, realizing that my emotions were getting the best of me, making me ponder again whether I should just go ask for my purse to take another pill. Things were going horribly; this isn’t what I had planned for the night.

“No.” It was Seonghwa who answered, voice deep and laced with anger, “What are you doing here, Miss Song? I haven’t seen you at the casino before.”

“I’m here to accompany Tom as he’s told me he’s been feeling rather lonely on his visits to the casino.” I plastered on a fake smile, levelling my voice so that they wouldn’t be able to tell that I was lying. Even Tom seemed to be surprised as he hummed next to me in confirmation of said lie, tilting his head as he looked at Seonghwa challengingly, “It’s a nice break from my work that you seem to know so much of, Mr. Park.”

But Rhaena seemed to be stuck on a different part of the conversation, “Mr. Riddle, would you like to be my first dance partner of the night?”

I stiffened as Tom chuckled, giving me a quick glance before he nodded and extended his hand for Rhaena to take. She batted her eyelashes at him and pursed her lips as she waved at Seonghwa, walking off with Tom towards the dance floor. I gulped, eyes stuck onto them as I subconsciously started rubbing my left hand, nails digging into my skin painfully, scratching the skin as it left marks. My heart had started hammering against my chest, and I couldn’t face Seonghwa as I felt his piercing gaze bore into the side of my head. I knew why I was here; I knew what I wanted to say to him, but his hostile attitude wasn’t something I had expected, and now I felt like I needed to rethink and reformulate everything I had wanted to say to him.

Jumping at the sudden warm touch against my hand, I faced Seonghwa with wide eyes as he squeezed my fingers, stopping me from scratching my skin up more. My eyebrows furrowed as my hand tingled, leaving my throat dry once again as Seonghwa’s expression was blank, his round eyes having lost their beautiful and warm glimmer.

“Will you dance with me?” His voice was quiet, tone almost dejected, and I gulped as I nodded wordlessly. He didn’t release my hand, instead, he intertwined his fingers with mine as he led the way towards the dancing crowd, making my insides churn at the familiar feel of his larger palm pressing against my small one.

For a second, I felt like a teenager back at Hogwarts, dancing with Seonghwa under the moonlight to a melody that he so often hummed. But the bodies that nearly collided into mine did a good job of helping me repress the memory to stay level-headed, and instead, I straightened my back and finally remembered what I was taught when I was training to become an Auror. The mission was my number one priority now, and so, I repressed all emotions and slipped a neutral expression onto my face as Seonghwa stopped in the middle of the crowd and turned around to face me. He raised our intertwined hands and yanked me towards himself, taking me off guard as I stumbled into his body. He swiftly grabbed onto my hip and I steadied myself as I held onto his shoulder, turning my head away to gaze over it as Seonghwa’s eyes landed on my face. My heart was hammering against my ribcage, skin burning everywhere it touched Seonghwa’s.

It felt familiar being in his hold, warm and comforting, yet his body was tense and on-alert. Seonghwa was a smart man, he knew if I was here, other Aurors might be too, he was on the look-out in case he needed to flee. My body was tense too, but for different reasons. I was trying not to give in to the yearning of my consciousness after the warm body that I knew so well, the embrace that made me feel like the luckiest person on the planet, the lips that ignited my skin on fire wherever they touched. I have missed Seonghwa so much that sometimes I wondered if my impeding madness was imposed upon me by our separation.

“It’s unexpected seeing you here.” Seonghwa muttered carefully, voice void of the previous hostility. I gulped and nodded, having to agree with him.

“I was curious of this place.” That wasn’t a total lie, and Seonghwa could tell. I felt his finger graze against my knuckles, gently rubbing them, but I ignored it for my peace of mind—which I was already struggling with.

“And how do you like it?”

“It’s too pompous, fake, prestigious.”

“People are here to make beneficial connections, of course it’s fake.” Seonghwa’s voice had dropped low so that nobody but me would hear him. I hummed, licking my lips as I felt him pull me more into himself as we danced around in a small circle, his familiar cologne making my head spin. Even after all these years, he looked and felt like the Seonghwa I once fell in love with.

“Your hair is long now.” I had no idea why I said that but I couldn’t take it back now, and Seonghwa’s steps stuttered for a second, making me step on my dress.

“I’ve always liked it better like this,” He said once he cleared his throat, “I kept it short because my parents didn’t like it.”

“I know.” I whispered and closed my eyes, giving in to my body’s cravings as I felt Seonghwa’s hand slip lower, press firmly against my lower back as our bodies flushed together, making me let out a stuttered breath.

“And your parents, are they well?” I felt bile rise up in my throat upon the question that left his mouth. He knew about them, of course he did, it was his people who sent them into hiding. My parents had played an enormous part in discovering the identity of Grindelwald’s men and their hideout. Of course, they were being hunted by Grindelwald now. I wasn’t safe either, but I was an Auror now, a talented one, Grindelwald wouldn’t waste his time on somebody who could very well defend themselves against him and his army. At least, not yet. I’m sure my time will come too.

“You’re being a hypocrite right now, Seonghwa.” I snapped, hearing him heave a sigh.

“They’ve always been kind to me, I do not wish mal-intent towards them—”

“And towards others?” I snapped, eyebrows furrowed as I pulled my head back to be able to look him in the eyes, “Towards all the innocent lives Grindelwald has taken—you have taken?!”

Seonghwa gulped, jaw clenching as his eyes narrowed, “There’s nothing innocent about being oppressed and having to hide our true nature while those mudbloods continue living their lives carefree and in peace.”

“Mudbloods.” I whispered, shaking my head in disappointment at Seonghwa, “You’re a half-blood, Seonghwa—”

“Enough.” Seonghwa snapped, his grip on my hand turning just a little painful, “I do not want to hear whatever you have to say—”

“Well, that is hilarious, Seonghwa.” I chuckled humourless, eyes narrowing at him in annoyance, “You cannot silence me, you cannot tell me what to do.”

“I can silence you,” He gulped, eyebrows furrowing, “for forever, if I want to.”

I froze, feeling a chill run down my spine, and then I just chuckled. I raised my eyebrows at him, looking him in the eyes challengingly, “Like you’ve silenced all those unassuming folk living in those village you burned to a crisp?!”

Seonghwa’s face contorted in anger, his round eyes narrowing as they stared me down fiercely, a dangerous glint in them, “What had to be done was done. They refused to join our cause.”

“A cause that is wrong and harms others, Seonghwa.” My voice raised slightly as I had lost my patience, our faces leaning in close as we both breathed through our noses harshly, glaring down each other, “You’ve done so many atrocities that you’re afraid to face the repercussions, isn’t it? It’s still not late, Seonghwa, if you come with me tonight, I can make things less painful for you. I can convince the officials to lessen your sentence, I can make them reason with you. If you say you regret everything you’ve done and that you will strive to fix your mistake, they will—”

“I will never do that.” Seonghwa hissed and I felt his breath fan my face, “I stand by what I believe in, I stand by what I have done, Y/N. You are on the wrong side, and you all will pay.”

Body shaking from both anger and anxiety, I tried to inhale deeply and exhale, but my throat felt restricted, and the longer I remained in Seonghwa’s arms the more choked up I would feel. I needed to get away, to get away from the man that didn’t resemble my once lover. This wasn’t the Seonghwa I had fallen in love with, this was—a monster standing in front of me. I bit my lower lip, feeling them tremble as I tried to supress the desperate need to cry, I wouldn’t do it. Not here, not in front of him, not ever again. I have cried enough because of him.

Feeling unsafe and cold in his arms, I tried to detach myself from Seonghwa, but his hold only tightened as his eyebrows further furrowed, looking like he was fighting with himself, a turmoil going on inside his mind. My blood froze over when my eyes slipped from his face, falling onto the necklace that sat against his black shirt, sparkling underneath the dim lights. It was the star necklace I had gifted him. Shaking my head, I looked back up in his eyes, grabbing onto the collar of his vest as Seonghwa’s arms held me in a firm embrace, fingers pressing painfully so into my lower back, “Seonghwa.”

And when his eyes shook, I knew he had lost control over himself, over his emotions, over his mind. I felt my eyes fill with tears for breaking even the little trust that’s remained between the two of us as our eyes bled into each other, making it easy for me to push through his fragile mind’s barriers. It was frightening how dark his thoughts were, revolving around murder and strategies of taking down even more people, of converting even more wizards and witches for their ‘greater’ cause. It was terrifying how good of a manipulator Grindelwald was, the fatherly look in his eyes when he looked at Seonghwa, the praises that left his mouth addicting—the complete opposite of Seonghwa’s muggle father who would never understand our world. I felt a small resistance trying to build itself back up in his mind, but I was stronger—Tom’s lessons at Hogwarts had paid off, the Auror training only making my acquired skills stronger—and so, I pushed forward, searching for anything that would be of use for future purposes.

In my search, I stumbled past sleepless nights spent staring up at the ceiling, of tear-filled eyes and salty cheeks as a familiar man cradled Seonghwa to his chest, shushing him and reassuring him of a bright ending. I heard broken whispers of my name as he’d wake up in a cold sweat from a nightmare, of lustful touches that were turned down in a haste at last, and ear-piercing shouts that sent everything tumbling to the ground, shattering. And then, painfilled screams and pleas for mercy, people on their knees crying, mothers cradling their children to their chests as their houses burned down and—a piece of parchment that would’ve been blank if it wasn’t for the name of the town scribbled down on it, Grindelwald’s harsh voice commanding my once lover to make everyone perish, nobody spared. He didn’t need anyone on his side from that village, he wanted revenge. Revenge on my parents and on everyone who’s ever tried to mislead him and take him down. Mingi. Yunho.

Seonghwa and I gasped loudly as he finally managed to push me out of his mind, not that I wanted to see anything beyond this. I have seen everything I needed. I had to alert the aurors of the attack Grindelwald had planned on our hideout. My heart raced in fear for my loved ones, and suddenly, I became aware of the hands holding my arms painfully, making me hiss out in pain as I looked up at Seonghwa’s face, feeling my heart still as his eyes were filled with tears, shaking, mouth agape as he looked speechless. I knew he’d hate me for invading his mind without permission, but I had to do it. Our trust in each other has been long broken; I was doing this for the greater good. Seonghwa wouldn’t understand, but he didn’t have to. Despite being a monster, he did something good, he contributed to saving hundreds of lives by weakening his mental barrier.

“You-you—” His voice was shaky as his eyebrows furrowed, body starting to shake from anger, “how could you?!”

“You made me do this, Seonghwa.” I gulped, jumping when he grabbed my nape painfully so, yanking our heads so close to each other that our lips brushed together. I felt my knees grow weak, it would be so easy to press my lips against his now, to feel the soft and plush skin against mine, to devour him and taste him. He’s always felt like home, but would he still feel like it? “You gave me no choice, Seonghwa.”

He scoffed, sneering at me as I whimpered when his fingernails dug into the sensitive skin of my neck, “You’re a monster, they’ve turned you into a monster.”

“As they have with you.” I whispered, biting the inside of my cheek to stop myself from crying, to keep myself from surrendering to Seonghwa completely. Seonghwa huffed, looking like he couldn’t believe what I have just said, eyes falling onto my lips as I tilted my head back, hands smoothing against his chest as my fingers ached from griping onto his vest so tightly. And my eyelashes threatened to flutter closed when Seonghwa angled his head just a little lower, his plump lips slotted perfectly against mine if one of us were to just tip our heads even the slightest forward.

But we were monsters to each other, the bogeyman of each other’s stories.

 1943

            I was close to finishing my patrolling duties, the Astronomy Tower my last stop before I could head back to the Slytherin common room and catch up on some much-needed sleep. Our examinations for the end of the year were nearing, more notedly, we only had one more week to catch up on every lesson before we’d be subjected to the long week of finals. It was stressful and I barely had any time for anything besides studying, so, much like others, I was cooped up in the library, scribbling down any necessary information that I might’ve missed during classes. Seonghwa and I only met up when we’d have breakfast, lunch, and dinner in the dining hall—unless one of us decided to skip due to not having studied enough that day. But that was alright, we both valued our studies and grades above all and, besides, we left little messages for each other in hidden places that we knew the other would patrol in the evenings after curfew.

The steps to the Astronomy Tower were steep and made of thick concrete, I pressed my palm against the stone wall for guidance and to feel safer as I was headed up to the tower. I had a slight fear of heights, which wasn’t too handy when I had to fly on a broom, hence why I never even considered playing Quidditch despite finding it cool and entertaining. Hongjoong could’ve probably brewed me a potion that made my fear halt but then again, I don’t know how smart it would have been to trust Hongjoong with even the simplest potions. He loved experimenting, and I had been on the receiving end of his failed brews one too many times. I am sure Madam Gorsemoor, herself, will banish me from this school if I turn up with an aching tummy to her Infirmary one more time.

I was panting by the time I reached the top of the stairs, all I had to do was round the corner and peek around it, then I could bolt back down to the Slytherin dormitories. However, just as I was about to do that, I heard hushed voices echoing around the stone walls. I couldn’t tell exactly what was being said as the voices were low, nonetheless, I did have to interrupt whatever was going on as I was a Prefect—I would even need to deduct house points if these were students and not professors. Squaring my shoulders and straightening my back to look more menacing than I actually was—with hopes of scaring off the students—I power-walked around the corner, only to freeze in the next second. Seonghwa stood leaning against the railing of the terrace, the wind howling loudly without the walls protecting us, and he was speaking to Rabastan Lestrange. My eyebrows furrowed as I noticed another figure sitting down, feet dangling over the ledge as he was leaned back on his hands, gazing up at the bright starry night sky, Hongjoong.

I didn’t understand what was happening, and I gulped as I carefully hid back around the corner, grateful that the three boys hadn’t noticed me. I peeked my head around the stone wall, still, and cast a wandless eavesdropping spell, Seonghwa and Rabastan’s voices suddenly tangible to my ears.

“So, what you’re saying is that your parents got everything ready for us?” Seonghwa’s usually warm voice lacked emotion now, and I could see that his eyebrows were slightly furrowed.

“Yes, all we have to do is give them the go.” Rabastan’s voice was harsh much like his father’s, and my eyebrows furrowed even more as I felt more confused than ever. What was this about and how did Seonghwa know Rabastan? What even was the purpose of this meeting after curfew? Was it worth it for Rabastan and Hongjoong to get caught and have house points reduced?

“But are you certain we’ve got enough people on the inside?” Seonghwa pressed on, sounding stressed, “Out of twenty-five people I have talked to, only ten wanted to join the cause.”

“Is he one of them?” Rabastan scoffed, tilting his head in Hongjoong’s direction as he remained ignorant of the two. I chewed on my bottom lip as Seonghwa glanced back at his best friend then shook his head slightly.

“Don’t worry about him,” Seonghwa muttered and Hongjoong gave him a lopsided smirk and a wink. Rabastan looked disgusted as he averted his eyes, glaring at Seonghwa now.

“If Grindelwald arrives and marches inside the school, we need to have enough students on his side to defend against the other fools, Park.” Rabastan hissed and my eyes widened, a tiny gasp slipping past my lips in shock, “He’s been planning this for way too long for you to mess it up—”

“And I have been planning alongside him just as much, Lestrange.” Seonghwa leered as he got all up in Rabastan’s face, his face contorted in anger. I had never seen Seonghwa look like that, I couldn’t believe this was real, that my Seonghwa was saying such things. What did he mean he’s been planning alongside him—alongside Grindelwald?! Was Seonghwa doing bad things behind my back? There had to be an explanation to all of this, this can only be a sick joke. Before I could react, Hongjoong tipped his head back, looking rather bored until we made eye contact. His eyes widened instantly and his mouth fell open as he struggled to scramble up as I shook my head at him ‘no’, but it was already too late.

“Seonghwa!” He hissed, and I watched as my lover looked over to his best friend with an irked expression on his face until he followed Hongjoong’s line of sight, our eyes meeting. I gasped, my heart racing in my chest as I whirled around and took off running, waving off the spell I had cast. I held onto the railing tightly as I tried to make my way fast down the stairs, struggling not to stumble and accidentally fall as I heard hurried footsteps echo behind me, laboured breaths leaving the person’s mouth. I didn’t dare look back to see who was following after me, but if they weren’t casting jinxes my way it meant that I was somewhat safe. At least as long as they didn’t reach the end of the staircase. The winding stairs seemed to suddenly never end as the wind howled in the distance the closer I got to the bottom, to the wooden door that was ajar as I had left it like that, the key to the door sitting in my pocket.

My lungs heaved for air as I finally reached the last stone step, letting go of the railing as I ran for the wooden door, screaming in fright when I felt a hand wrap around my bicep and yank me back before I could leave. I was whirled around and pushed against the door as I frantically tried to fight off the hands gripping my arms now.

“Y/N, it’s me.” The breathy voice was gentle, “My love, it’s Seonghwa.”

But that wasn’t comforting to hear anymore as my head snapped up, wide eyes staring at Seonghwa’s worried face. I gulped and gripped his forearms, pulling him closer towards me as our chests rose and fell quickly, “Explain.”

Seonghwa’s face blanched, skin paling as he gulped, his grip softening against my biceps, “I—what you heard isn’t—my love, let’s stay level-headed—”

“Is it true?” I snapped, jaw clenching as I couldn’t stand to hear him stutter, “What Lestrange has said, is it true, Seonghwa?!”

“Calm down first—”

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” I screamed and fought his grip off, pushing him away from me. My hands had started trembling as I stared at him with disgust, trying to make sense of everything, “It is true?! Are you on-on Grindelwald’s side?!”

“Y/N,” Seonghwa froze, his expression suddenly faltering as he looked past me, at the wooden door, “Yes—Yes, I am.”

I felt my heart clench as tears flooded my eyes in an instant, and I was gripping Seonghwa’s shirt in a flash, yanking him down to be eye-level with me, “Tell me you’re lying. Look me in the eyes.”

Seonghwa’s jaw clenched and unclenched as he licked his lips, struggling to take a long breath as his eyes fell on my face, searching for something that he didn’t find as suddenly he looked resigned, “It’s not a lie, my love, I have chosen to support Grindelwald’s cause. We’ve been forced to suffer for too long, shunned into hiding while those creatures do as they please, while they live the lives we are supposed to live.”

I shuddered at his words and released him as if he had burned me, hugging my arms around my middle as I bit my bottom lip, a few tears having escaped my eyes, “You were there. At Lucy’s funeral, you were there, Seonghwa. She died because of Grindelwald. Her entire family—eradicated, burned down, because she was an innocent Muggle.”

Seonghwa’s eyes were filled with tears too as I had started crying now, hands shaking even more as I tried to wipe my cheeks dry, but the tears just kept flowing, “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?!” I snapped, voice shaking from the betrayal I was feeling, from anger, and from feeling like my heart’s been ripped out, “How could you look me in the eyes every single day, touch me, when you’ve been going behind my back and plotting such atrocious thing, Seonghwa?!”

“I wanted to tell you but you—you—” I took a step back as Seonghwa tried to reach out for me, watching the hurt expression on his face due to my rejection, “I knew you’d react like this; I just couldn’t tell you. You’d—ruin our plans.”

It felt like a punch to the gut hearing the love of my life say those things and I laughed, body shaking in despair and pain that this is the side my lover had chosen. The man I thought I would marry one day, give children to, grow old with. Yet here he stood in front of me, with tears streaming down his face—an abomination, just a mere shell of what he used to be, “Your father is a muggle, Hwa.”

His jaw clenched and he swiftly wiped his tears off his cheeks, taking deep breaths to calm himself down, “And he’s never been good to me.”

I gulped as I closed my eyes and willed my muscles to ease up a bit so that I could move again. I brushed my hair back as I blinked my eyes open, a little blurry from the tears that still threatened to spill out, but I sucked it up and nodded, ignoring my heart that was crying out for my mind to stop, not to say the words that would leave my lips soon, “Goodbye, Mr. Park.”

“What?” Seonghwa’s eyebrows furrowed as I grabbed the door handle behind me and bowed my head respectfully.

“Finish your Prefect duties and go back to your dormitory.” My voice was devoid of any emotion as I yanked the wooden door open behind myself, mind numb and silent for once, “I shall do the same, I won’t report this to Headmaster Dippet just yet.”

“Y/N, what are you—”

“I believe it’s Miss Song to you, Mr. Park.”

Seonghwa’s eyes widened as I stepped outside, hands trembling beyond normal as I had started feeling faint, “Y/N, no. No, you cannot leave me, I don’t—I cannot—please, Y/N, my love, please don’t. I cannot live without you, Y/N—”

The wooden door was loud as it slammed shut in my face, making my knees go weak as I tumbled to the floor, gasping for air as my whole chest felt on fire, tears wetting my cheeks before I could even try to stop them from escaping. The gut-wrenching sob that rippled through the hallway despite the wooden door that separated us made my skin crawl, my heart screaming at me to go back and take back everything I’d said to Seonghwa, but my mind knew what was right. My mind knew there was no further future for us, for Seonghwa.

He had chosen his path, and I have chosen mine.

            Like many knew, my work etiquette was beyond pristine and precise. I valued my missions above anything else, and so, I had wasted no time in reporting back to the Auror’s Office—to Theseus Scamander—about what I had found out at the casino. The attack that Grindelwald’s men—Seonghwa—was tasked to lead to avenge their leader. I could only hope that I was on time, that they hadn’t gotten to the village just yet, but with Seonghwa knowing that I had discovered their plans, it was probable that I was either too late, or they wouldn’t attack anymore. Either way, I was compromised and I needed to move, to go into hiding at one of our safe houses. I had requested to be placed close to Yunho and Mingi, in hopes that I could finally find them and speak to them. I missed them gravely, and slowly I had started feeling crazy without their safe and comforting presence around me.

But my mission wasn’t over yet, due to the weight of Seonghwa’s own mission, now I was tasked with killing him. It was a straight-up order, nothing could change their minds. Even if Seonghwa apologized and begged, they wouldn’t forgive him. In their eyes, he deserved to die—and I knew this. He did deserve to die, but I couldn’t ignore the growing lump in my throat and the coil of my stomach any time I tried to come up with a plan to lure him towards me. I was a trained professional, and I was tasked to kill a man. It would have been like second nature if said main wasn’t Seonghwa. I didn’t know how to proceed just yet, but I knew upon seeing Mingi and Yunho I would find solace in their presence and inspiration in their ideas. But one thing was certain, I would never be able to face Hongjoong again if my mission was successful.

I had woken up early in the morning to pack away my most important belongings, stuffing old polaroids deep into my satchel bag—the same one I had used at Hogwarts. At times when I felt nostalgic and missed the good old times, I would flip through the moving polaroids that had been taken at Hogwarts, many of them of Seonghwa and I, or of Seonghwa, Hongjoong, and I. Despite Yunho and Mingi having entered my life recently—three years ago, more specifically—the pictures of the three of us belonged in the same pile. Those two were like the brothers I never had.

I had taken my time to venture into the Muggle World and buy enough pills to last me three months in case I had to hide for a longer period of time, and I was already tempted to abuse the prescribed amount as I placed the third bottle away in my satchel bag, zipping it closed and placing it down onto the floor, next to my other bags. Now all I had to do was wait for the official that would fetch me and Apparate me to the safe house. Only a select few knew of its location, and I would be granted permission only once we have arrived to it. It didn’t help either that last night I was plagued with nightmares, the lack of sleep and the pills I had taken earlier this morning made me feel drowsy now, making me contemplate if taking a nap right now was smart or not. But I felt too restless to sleep, and thus, I couldn’t stop pacing around my main hallway, chewing away at my bottom lip. I was thinking of ways that I could deal with Seonghwa, desperately trying to find a way out in which he remained alive, when there were three firm knocks at my front door. I released a stressed sigh, grateful that the official was finally here and that I wouldn’t have to think about my issues for a little while.

I hurried over to the door, unlocking it quickly and yanking it open, freezing in surprise. The black cloaked figure was tall, head leaning down and obscured by a hood, making me wonder if the Ministry had changed up their customs and forgot to update me about them. But then, the person raised their head just until I could see their eyes, and I froze. Round eyes were narrowed into a ferocious glare and I gasped as I went to slam the door shut, fear striking my whole body as Seonghwa threw himself against my front door, pushing with all of his force to throw it open. I hissed as I leaned against the door heavily, refusing to give up, but Seonghwa gave it an aggressive push and I was sent tumbling back as I crashed into the round table placed in the middle of the hallway. He pushed the door open with his foot and unclipped his cloak from around his shoulders as he elegantly stepped inside, eyes cautiously glancing around, surveying the place. Perhaps he was looking to make sure I was alone.

I quickly snapped out of my initial shock and pushed off the table, heart beating fast as I ran around the table, going to fetch my wand which was placed atop the fireplace, but suddenly I felt my feet tangle together, sending me face first down onto the floor. I groaned as I narrowly avoided banging my head against the surface and rolled onto my back as I heard footsteps quickly approach. Staring up at Seonghwa wide eyed, his wand pointed at me, I narrowed my eyes and watched as the wand flew out of his hand at my non-verbal spell. His jaw clenched and I quickly jumped up to my feet, eyeing his wand, contemplating whether I should grab his instead as I knew he was never too good at wandless magic. I could only hope that was still true.

But as I lunged towards his wand, which had rolled underneath the table, Seonghwa lunged for me, arms wrapping around me and tackling me onto the table. I gasped as I collided against the surface painfully so, my shoulder digging into the sturdy wood as Seonghwa pressed my cheek with his hand against the surface without mercy.

“You’ve got a nice little cottage for yourself, Miss Song.” He sneered leaning down, “A little too daring for my taste. You didn’t even have wards set up.”

I huffed and grabbed his wrist with my left hand, which wasn’t trapped underneath my body, and yanked his hand off my face, kicking his shin hard with my leg, “I fear no one, Mr. Park. One doesn’t need wards when they live on the edge a Wizarding and Muggle town.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, my love.” I gulped at the once endearing nickname, and trashed around until Seonghwa’s hold loosened, “You made tracking you so easy.”

I chuckled as I finally wrestled my way out from underneath Seonghwa, “Perhaps I wanted to be found, my love, perhaps you just willingly walked into my trap, Hwa.”

Seonghwa froze for a second, face falling as I smirked and jumped up, hand curling around his neck as I threw him into the wall behind him, making him gasp at the sheer force I had used. I had never fought physically against Seonghwa, we had only duelled at Hogwarts. He had no idea what I was capable of in hand-to-hand combat. But I also had no idea how he fought, and I was certainly taken aback when I felt his knee raise into my stomach, making me suck in a sharp breath of air. My hand left his neck as I doubled over, fighting the urge to vomit as Seonghwa looked down at me with a dark look in his eyes. I felt fingers card through my hair and my head was yanked back as I groaned, looking up into his eyes with venom.

“You’re rather unprepared for someone who’s just lured me into their trap.” Seonghwa leered, leaning down, but before he could get too close, I stomped on his foot harshly, making him cry out as he let go of me, pushing me to the side. Regaining my balance, I dashed towards the fireplace to retrieve my wand and I heard hurried movement behind myself as well as we both turned around at the same time, wands held in each other’s direction threateningly. Neither of us moved nor spoke, our eyes boring into each other’s to see who would make the first attack. Based on experience, Seonghwa wouldn’t attack first, he would wait for me to do that, but I suppose times have changed us as I was forced to dodge an attack that almost made my fireplace explode into pieces. My eyes widened at the aggressive nature of Seonghwa’s attack and decided to return the energy. If he wanted to play dirty and use non-verbal magic, I could certainly match his energy.

I sent a Stupefy his way and watched in satisfaction as it took him off guard and sent him flying into the wall, breaking the small shoe rack that I have mounted myself. I smirked at Seonghwa, tilting my head with a challenging glint in my eyes, until I suddenly lost my footing again. It had seemed like he was fond of the spell. Seonghwa looked slightly dazed as I tried to regain my bearings, my head having hit the floor a little hard this time, but the duel must go on, I have gone through far worse things compared to this.

Sharp icy arrows were shot towards me as I scrambled backward, raising an invisible shield with my left hand as I sent blue fireballs towards Seonghwa using wandless magic. His eyebrows furrowed as he raised his own shield last minute, looking taken aback that I could use my magic so sharply while utilizing three methods at once. I knew he couldn’t when his eyes hardened again, giving me time to finally stand up and continue my attack with a spell that had birds materializing and diving for Seonghwa. He yelped and shielded himself, his barrier broken by the bird’s beaks as I shot another Stupefy at him, which he barely avoided as it crashed into the portraits hung onto the wall, sending them crashing to the floor.

I knew his next move before he even did it—I didn’t need to read his mind to know—as I raised another shield, dodging his strong Stupefy as it shattered my spell quite instantly. This duel felt childlike, as if we were testing each other’s patience, wanting to see who would give in first. It almost felt petty, like he was only teasing me because he was so certain that he’d win. I could count on my fingers how often he had beat me in a duel, and I knew for a fact that he still wasn’t better than me. Fed up with our useless fight, I decided to put an end to it as my eyes hardened, Seonghwa’s eyes narrowing upon seeing my expression. But before I could yell out Expelliarmus, I felt my right hand burn, the wand so hot that I had no choice but to drop it as I gasped, the tremors of my hands worsening as I looked back up at Seonghwa. He was smirking, thinking he had won the duel, but I raised my left hand and screamed, “Expelliarmus!”

He didn’t expect me not to give in right away, and so, his wand flew out of his hand as I whirled it against the wall, hearing a crack. My breath halted in my throat as my eyes widened in horror, watching as Seonghwa’s broken wand fell to the floor, his jaw falling open as he flinched. The apology was on the tip of my tongue, but the pure rage that had encompassed Seonghwa’s face made me shiver, and I dashed for the front door, trying to escape before his wrath could reach me. But had I miscalculated our distance, and as I grabbed the handle and tried to open the door, I felt a warm presence behind myself as the door was slammed back shut, my breathing loud in the silent room as my heart had started beating fast.

I was frozen, too afraid to move as I didn’t know what Seonghwa would do now. The man that stood behind me, stopping me from fleeing, was somebody I didn’t know. I could hear Seonghwa trying to level his breaths as his palm remained pressing against the door, his arm brushing against my hair. I tried to calculate my next move, work out what would be the smartest thing to do next, but his proximity made it hard to focus. I had seen him barely two days ago and his touch was still fresh in my mind, haunting my every waking moment, making me crave him like never before.

“Where’s Riddle when you need him, huh?” Seonghwa’s tone was poisonous, laced with hatred as I tensed, eyebrows furrowing.

“I don’t need Riddle,” I hissed, jaw clenching as my grip tightened around the handle, “I can protect myself; I don’t need anyone.”

“One would assume he’d be running here to save you like the lost puppy he was following you around at Hogwarts—”

“Tom has no part in my life!” My voice raised as I grew angrier, whirling around to face Seonghwa. I faltered for a second, finding him too close for comfort as he glared down at me, a dangerous glimmer in his eyes as I gulped, “I only used him to get an invite to the casino because I heard he goes there often—like you.”

Seonghwa’s careful mask cracked for a second as his eyebrows twitched, almost turning into a frown, but he caught himself and smirked instead, leaning down, “You think you can fool me with your pathetic lies?”

“Want me to show you?” I raised an eyebrow challengingly, knowing that it would only make Seonghwa angrier as he detested Legillimency, especially after I have used it on him at the casino.

He scoffed, leaning down closer to my face, “I should’ve killed you on the spot two nights ago—”

“Yet you didn’t,” I breathed out with a scoff, “like I haven’t told anyone about you and Lestrange’s stupid plan of bringing Grindelwald inside Hogwarts.”

“It wasn’t stupid—”

“You failed.”

“Because Riddle caused a scene, as always.” Seonghwa hissed, and I jumped when his fist made contact with the door above my head, making me melt back into the sturdy door, heart racing all over again, “I would’ve killed him a long time ago if Grindelwald hadn’t seen potential in him.”

Dread washed over me as I felt my stomach drop, “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t worry,” Seonghwa leered, tilting his head to the side as his glare made me feel sick to my stomach. He’s never looked at me like that, with so much venom and hatred, “your little lover refused his offer and Grindelwald decided to let him live for a little longer.”

“He’s not my lover.” I snapped, chest rising and falling quickly once again as I started getting angry. When would he understand that I could never look at Tom the way he thinks I did, “I have never harboured any romantic feelings towards Tom—I don’t even understand how my personal life is any of your business. You don’t see me talking ill of Rhaena or questioning her motives with you, Seonghwa.”

He paused as he gulped loudly, his hand slipping lower on the door until it was right next to my head, his wrist brushing against my cheekbone, “Rhaena is someone I work with, it’s all professional.”

“I do not care, Seonghwa.”

“You don’t, right.”

I gulped as suddenly an uncertain look crossed Seonghwa’s features, his eyes momentarily softening as I felt my whole body tingle as he stepped closer, his clothes brushing against mine. I felt my mouth go dry as my eyes roamed his face, palms turning into fists as I felt the sudden urge to reach out to him and touch him. Seonghwa placed his other hand against the door too, caging me in between himself and the sturdy surface. His eyebrows furrowed as his dark eyes bore into mine, bangs slightly obscuring his beautiful eyes as he exhaled slowly, closing the distance between our bodies. I shuddered and tilted my head back as he straightened up, my eyes landing on his plush lips as he parted them, tongue poking out to lick his dry lips. My whole body was buzzing as my eyebrows furrowed, my heart and mind fighting a never-ending battle as I couldn’t contain myself anymore and reached up, fingers reluctantly touching his cheek.

I wasn’t certain if he’d let me as his eyebrows furrowed even more, obvious that he was also struggling to make up his mind. But at last, I decided to be brave and cupped his warm cheek, my hand trembling against his soft skin. Seonghwa gasped quietly as his eyes widened, searching my gaze before his eyes fluttered shut, bringing tears into my eyes. I so desperately wanted to be engulfed by his familiar embrace, the warmth of his safe hug, the feeling of belonging, something I haven’t felt ever since we parted ways. Then, just slightly, as my fingers have started tracing his cheekbone, he turned his head and pressed a firm kiss against my wrist, alighting a vicious fire in my body.

“Seonghwa.” I had barely finished whispering his name when my lips were muffled by his, the familiarity of them making me moan as I threw my arms around his shoulders, clinging to him with desperation. Seonghwa inhaled loudly as he gripped my hips and flushed our bodies together to the point you couldn’t tell where he started and where I ended, and I pushed up on my tiptoes to better kiss him. His pace was sloppy and desperate as I returned the aggressivity of his own lips, fingers tangling in his dark and long locks, pulling on the strands and making him groan in the back of his throat. He leaned down and I felt his hands travel to my thighs, and I jumped before he could signal for me to, legs wrapping around his hips firmly as he pressed me back up against the sturdy door, moaning against my mouth when I finally parted my lips for his tongue to explore. He tasted like the old Seonghwa, he smelled like the old Seonghwa, he even felt like the old Seonghwa.

His body had gotten sturdier, stronger, and yet despite the desperate way he clung to me, fingers pressing into my cheeks or grabbing at my neck, he remained mindful of hurting me, of being gentle even in our desperation to feel each other, to love each other. His tongue lapped at mine eagerly, sucking my bottom lip between his teeth when he pulled back for a scarce breather, making me chase after his lips again as I couldn’t let go of him just yet. Our lips were swollen and covered in our mixed saliva, but I couldn’t care less as finally my thoughts were silent, my body and mind only focusing on Seonghwa. He gripped the back of my thighs and I made sure to hold onto him tighter as he pulled me off the door and started walking aimlessly around my cottage, having to pull away from my lips just slightly so that I could give him directions towards my bedroom.

Our clothes were quick to come off, even before we made it to the bedroom, and I found his once flawless skin now littered with scars, bringing tears to my eyes as he shuddered when I gently traced them with my fingertips. My body wasn’t perfect either, but it definitely harboured less scars than his, and it made me wonder just how many times he’s been in harms way with no guarantee that he’ll make it out alive. Before I could cry, Seonghwa’s lips were pressing against my cheeks, my forehead, my eyes, my nose, my jaw and chin, at last finding my lips as I was guided backwards onto the bed, pressing me down gently as he wasted no time getting on top of me. Despite the passing of time and being away from each other for four years, our bodies seemed to still know the other, our minds remembering every little thing that made the other tick, and it felt natural as we were guided by pure lust and desire for each other.

I had tried to remain composed and focused on Seonghwa, to give back just as much as I was receiving, but when he had settled between my legs, lips pressing feather-like kisses against my thighs until he drove me crazy and had me begging for more, I was a gone woman only able to focus on the immense pleasure his long tongue and plush lips brought, his fingers helping out when it wasn’t enough anymore. When my fingers yanked on his hair so hard that it made him whine, tongue lapping at my juices even faster, making me writ around until he held me down by the hips, Seonghwa knew I was close to unravelling, to coming undone on nothing but his tongue and fingers. But he pulled back, he always did, because he wanted to fill me up, to make me scream his name while I came undone on his dick. His lips kissed all the way up to my lips as I whispered his name over and over again, scratching down his back with my long nails, legs hooking around his hips as he wouldn’t lay on me just yet, tongue tangling with mine and making me taste myself as I reached down between us, grabbing his twitching member.

Seonghwa froze, moaning against my mouth as his eyebrows furrowed, rutting against my palm as I jerked my hand faster, until he was begging me to stop because he didn’t want to finish like this. And I did, I cradled his face in my hands as our eyes bore into each other’s, his dick finally lined up with my entrance as he slowly pushed inside, holding himself up by the forearms. It was painful, it was bittersweet, and it was the most pleasure I have felt in years, all in the arms of the man I had once loved—I still loved. My mouth had fallen open as I hissed in pain, eyebrows furrowing and eyes falling shut as Seonghwa kissed my wrists, whispering reassuring words, understanding that I haven’t done this since we went our separate ways.

But I didn’t need much to get accustomed to the once familiar feel of his dick splitting me open, stretching me out and making me feel filled to the brim, the only thought on my mind being him, Seonghwa. And I tried to swallow the noises that wanted to tear through my throat, but the harder Seonghwa slammed back in, the faster his hips thrust, I could only moan and whine, call out his name repeatedly as he fondled my breasts and made my back arch, hitting my sensitive spot over and over again. I grabbed onto his arms for leverage as he sat back on his heels, holding my hips up tightly as he pulled me down on each thrust to meet him halfway, making me curse out loudly as my stomach had started coiling, the pleasure building up until I couldn’t bear with it anymore.

“Seonghwa.” His name was nothing but a broken whisper as I bit my bottom lip, opening my arms, knowing that he’d understand my request. And he did, because he pressed himself completely against me, my arms going underneath his to hug him tightly as my fingernails pressed into his shoulder blades once again, painfully so, making Seonghwa hiss in pain and pleasure at the same time. He buried his head in my neck as he was panting, hips jerking messily as he was nearing his own undoing, much like I was. Our bodies were covered in a thin layer of sweat, chasing our own orgasms as Seonghwa’s right hand lowered between our bodies and started quickly rubbing my bundle of nerves, making me throw my head back and come undone in just a few seconds. His name left my lips like a mantra as I felt tears spring into my eyes from the overwhelming pleasure, body trembling as he stilled, and then I felt hot liquid spill inside me as he lazily continued to move his hips, making my body ache as it all felt too much.

“My love.” His lips brushed against my ear with one final thrust and then he stilled, body going lax as I was panting hard, trying to swallow but my throat felt parched. Seonghwa muttered something against the skin of my neck but I didn’t understand, and I turned my head to press kisses against his hair, his shoulder blade, and ultimately his lips when he raised his head. I instantly felt cold and like I was missing something as he rolled over and pulled out, his chest rising and falling just as frantically as mine. My heart was beating so fast that it felt like a vein would pop in my forehead and I felt Seonghwa’s fingers intertwine with mine. I gulped and looked over, finding nothing but a pained expression on his face and eyes that were overflowing with tears. I couldn’t hold it back in anymore, and let mine fall free as Seonghwa sniffed loudly, his beautiful black hair strewn across my pillow, the cloudy weather casting my bedroom in a dim light.

“I love you, Y/N,” Seonghwa’s voice was raspy and it trembled as he pressed a long-lasting kiss against my knuckles, “I love you so much, my love.”

I bit my bottom lip to fight the sob that threatened to rip through my throat and nodded, bringing our hands up to my cheek to nuzzle it against Seonghwa’s skin, “I love you too, Hwa, always have. Always will.”

But we weren’t meant to be since we were on opposing sides. And we both knew that as our tears stopped flowing, our fingers going numb from how tightly we held onto each other. Seonghwa sighed then released my hand reluctantly, making me bite back a whine as he sat up, running his fingers through his hair. Before he could get off my bed, I sat up hurriedly and threw my arms around him, letting out a long exhale as he returned the embrace, cradling my head against his naked chest. I wanted to grow old with him, I wanted to have children that would gift us grandchildren, I wanted us to never be separated again. And maybe Seonghwa wanted that too because his whole body trembled as we somehow found the strength to separate from each other, eyes yearning for something we’d never have.

I watched as he rolled over, then sat on the edge of my bed as I pulled my knees up to my chest, hugging my bare legs, looking for even the smallest comfort now that I knew I would let him leave, just this once. This was our final goodbye, the closure we never got. Once Seonghwa was out of my cottage, we’d play our parts, we’d be the enemies everyone thought we were. I was ready, and perhaps he was ready to. An easy smile settled on my lips as I watched Seonghwa lean down and fetch something, his back muscles tensing as he glanced back over his shoulder. My eyebrows furrowed upon the solemn look on his face and I went rigid as he turned his torso around, my own wand pointed at me. His voice was resigned, a whisper, pained.

“Obliviate.”

1944

            The train came to a screeching halt as we neared the next village, sending me back in my seat as I stared out the window, feeling bored as I knew nobody who shared the compartment with me. But that’s how it is when you don’t have friends of your own. It was alright, I had always done just fine on my own. As the train stopped and the doors opened, I watched the students who lived in this village get off, pulling their heavy luggage after themselves, greeted by their families who couldn’t wait for them to return home for the summer holiday. My chin was resting in my palm as I pursed my lips, finding it hard to enjoy my last train ride back home, never to return to Hogwarts. There was an ache in my chest that grew the longer I stared out the window, the longer I stared at the messy black-haired boy that had stopped close to the edge of the platform, gazing inside the train, dark and soft eyes landing on me unmistakably.

I gulped, feeling my heartbeat pick up the longer our gazes remained connected, confused by the ache in my chest that only got worse the longer we looked at each other. My eyebrows furrowed as I felt this sudden urge to reach out to him, to get off the train and run into his arms, to breathe in his familiar scent and feel his plush lips press against my skin, and his low voice whisper reassuring words into my ears. I didn’t know why I felt like that, I couldn’t explain the yearning of my own body as the boy’s once familiar face became hazy, unclear. No matter how hard I tried to look, I couldn’t see his features clearly. I couldn’t remember his name.

He became a murky memory in the back of my mind as the train whistled, signalling its departure, and as we took off, I felt the lurch of my heart and the coil of my stomach worsen as I jumped up from my seat, pulling the window open and scaring those sitting in the compartment with me. I looked out the window, head leaning outside as my eyebrows furrowed, the name of the boy on the tip of my tongue as I desperately tried to cry out his name—but I didn’t know what it was. I didn’t know who he was. The alarmed cries of the people who rode with me snapped me out of my unexplainable actions, and I settled back into my seat feeling confused and embarrassed as I apologized.

I couldn’t tell anymore why my heart ached like I had loved someone with my whole being, with my soul, like I had sworn to remain by their side forever and even beyond. It confused me as to why I wanted to sob and scream after a boy that once was my guiding light in the darkness, my star. A face once familiar now became just the whisper of a distant memory that I couldn’t put my finger on, a nostalgic ache of a love that felt real, yet intangible.

The stars couldn’t shine bright without their darkness.

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[pearl-nouveau]

A Woman's Purpose - Cregan Stark x Reader [chapter one]

summary: Your mother, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, has always prepared you to marry and you have always resisted, terrified that you will only ever be seen as a wife. But your heart is torn when love catches you by surprise.

contains: mentions of self-harm, aged-up characters (Jace is ~19 idk)

a/n: wow i have not posted on this blog in YEARS but i lurk in tumblr reader insert oneshots like it's my part-time job, and i wrote this on AO3 so i decided to post here and hopefully get some love. i really love posting my writing even if it is not perfect, it's just a passion. let me know if i should post the second chapter and my asks are always open! xx - pearl🦪

Beauty is power, my mother used to tell me, stroking my silver hair as if it were made of golden thread. She loved my hair. Use your beauty to set yourself free. I had no idea if she meant for her words to bring some kind of comfort to me - they did not. 

Sometimes, I hated her for bringing me into the world altogether. While Jace and Luke envied my resemblance to our mother, I detested sharing her light hair and lilac eyes. It seemed to me a symbol of my imprisonment - it became clear to me, hearing all this talk of my beauty and nothing else, that I was never to be loved or seen for anything else.

In my youth, the abstract concept of my fertility and status made me a formidable form of currency within the royal family. Jacaerys, older by one year, made his way as heir by training in combat and dragonriding and studying the history of Westeros and Old Valeria - I, however, was confined to studying the family trees of the realm's powerful houses, to perform the perfect Velaryon princess and eventually be bred like a cow.

I hated my life. 

Many attempts were made to rebel against my predetermined future. At ten and two I sliced all the hair from my head, leaving a shaggy, uneven mess of shimmering half-bald patches that took years to grow back. I had never seen my mother so angry until at ten and four I began slicing patterns into my arms and legs to scar the perfect pale skin everyone complimented me on. Soon she required a chaperone with me at all times, which only made me more furious, and I began picking fights with my cuntish uncles and coming back from dragon rides inexplicably soaking or covered in soot. I waited for my mother to attempt to put together the puzzle I had laid out in front of her; to figure me out and decide that her daughter - the strong-willed, intelligent, adventurous one - matters more than the empty shell of a married woman that I will surely become. 

At the very least, my mother allowed me the power to turn away whomever I wished. It seemed she hoped I would find someone who struck my fancy. But as time passed and my antics worsened, her grip on me tightened, and I began to fear the wost: an impending betrothal. 

She frequently asked me to rack my brain and think of any previous men she had introduced me to who I may want to explore further. But I was stubborn. I maintained that no one had caught my eye, and I insisted that I would never marry. Whenever I said such things, my mother would frown at me in a way that hurt my heart. She was my greatest antagonist, but I loved her, and I knew that it saddened her to put me through such pain. 

Even if there was one man who never left an impression on me, whose memory kept me awake in the darkness of night, I would never tell my mother. It was too humiliating after so many years of fighting marriage to be seduced by love.

Every so often I allowed myself to think about him before I went to sleep, to be swept up in the beautiful dream of someone's arms around me. I could imagine him saying to me, I choose you. That was what I always dreamt of hearing. I choose you, as you are. Just you. 

Jacaerys tried to sympathize with me but he would never truly understand. He did allow me to partake in his own pastimes to grant me a change of scenery from the walls of King's Landing. 

"It infuriates me that she herself is allowed to break barriers as heir to the Iron Throne and I must remain shackled to tradition," I complained to Jace as we sparred in a remote corner of the keep. "She gets to be immortalized as the first of her name while subjecting me to a loveless marriage."

"She was in an arranged marriage with our father." Jace pointed out, sending a particularly hard offensive move my way. I easily thwarted it. 

"Well..." I trailed off. There was nothing to say, not in words, about our parents, or our parentage. It was an unspoken issue, even between Jacaerys and I who were nearly as close as twins. We supposed it would always be shrouded in mystery. We were prepared to always wonder. It seemed unthinkable to ask our mother any questions, nor our father, nor... 

Strong boys, they said. 

Perhaps Jace and I wouldn't speak of it because our difference in hair color had always been a sore subject. I was broken out of my thoughts by another offensive move, this one catching me by surprise. I stumbled back but recovered, moving around the side of my brother as he laughed at me in the way only an older brother would. 

"I'll get you back for that," I snapped at him, but grinned. He smiled back, shrugging cockily. Bring it on, his eyes told me. 

We sparred a bit more until our breaths were heavy in our throats and our swings became more jests than challenges. Eventually, he tossed his sword on the ground and fell upon a sack of grain. I sat next to him and for a moment we were not prince nor princess. We were just two siblings. I sighed, knowing it wouldn't last for long. 

Jace seemed to decide to bank on the moment as well because he looked to me and spoke. "Was there really never anyone who caught your eye? Not in all those years of meeting suitors?" He thought for a moment. "There were some good ones."

"Some good ones?" I scoffed. "Who, pray tell?" 

After a few moments of consideration, he began to chuckle and I rolled my eyes. The chuckle became a cackle and at this joke, I did not laugh along. We both knew that most of the options I had been presented with were vapid, shortsighted, insecure children, as were most men.

I was about to hit him to shut him up when he stopped suddenly and his face brightened with realization. 

"I know a good one," Jace said, "Cregan Stark."

A flush crossed my face at the name.

Usually, I only allowed that name to cross my mind in the darkness of night, but Jace had disrupted that routine. "What about him?" I tried to ask innocently. This time my brother was the one to roll his eyes at me. 

"Don't play the fool, sister," he teased, "when he came to visit those years ago everyone could see that you both took a liking to each other. Even you couldn't fight him." He nudged me playfully with his elbow. "He fights like a Northerner, and he wanted to fight for you."

"Oh, hush."

"Why did you ever turn him away anyways?"

His question silenced me. It was a painful memory. Cregan had come to treat with my grandsire and pledge his support as Warden of the North, and in those two moons he stayed at King's Landing we came to know each other well. Perhaps the reason why I had opened myself to getting to know him was because he had not come for the intention of courting me. In fact, I found him wonderfully ignorant about the social politics of the royal family, and he did not know of my existence upon his arrival. 

The day we met, I was in the Godswood with a book and a porcelain cup of candied almonds. A midnight blue veil covered my thigh-length silver hair. I hated my hair, and I hated that my mother would not let me cut it. I refused to have it braided and let it fall unbrushed and wild down my back.

He had come into the courtyard without noticing me tangled in the roots of the tree. He came closer to examine the trunk thoughtfully, allowing me a glimpse of his face through the branches. I had heard of his arrival and listened from behind closed doors at their meeting, intrigued by his deep voice and foreign accent. I listened intently as he spoke a prayer in a hushed tone. All of a sudden, his gaze shifted to meet mine between the leaves as if he had known I was there the whole time. 

"Apologies, my lady," he bowed his head slightly. "I did not know the Godswood was occupied."

"There is room enough for two," I said shyly. I was not accustomed to being pleasant towards men. I was known for being a beautiful devil, a menace with a sour tongue. It made me self-conscious to think that I was changing my behavior for a man. But I was merely matching his politeness; and he had no reason to falsify his kindness, since he had no idea who I was. 

Luckily for me, I had no reason to overthink my words because he went silent for a long while, lost in a wordless prayer. After a quarter of an hour had passed, he came closer to me, and gestured to the root beside me. 

"Do you mind if I sit?" He had asked.

I shook my head and he moved his thick cloak to drop down beside me. 

"Pardon my intrusion, my lady, I find myself feeling lonely when I come to the South. The Godswood calms me."

"I understand, Lord Stark."

His eyebrow quirked. "You know who I am?"

"I'm afraid I do." I smiled. I loved having the upper hand. I decided I wouldn't tell him who I was. 

"What is your role here in the castle, my lady?" 

"To please lords like you." I jested. Cregan leaned back slightly, taken aback. I quickly realized the suggestive wording of my joke. "Not like that," I quickly corrected, "I was just... I mean-"

"I know who you are, princess." He chuckled at me. I was glad to be rescued from the embarrassment of my failed joke. I gazed at him questioningly. He leaned forward and gently removed the veil from my head. "Unfortunately your appearance does not allow you anonymity." 

I blushed. "What have you heard about me?" 

"Nothing, I admit, until your grandsire told me about you today. He told me of your age, not many years my junior, and I supposed-"

"- That I might make a fine breeder for you?" I snapped. There went the illusion of politeness. This was where they usually ran, when I became a beast instead of a beauty. A piece of work not worth the effort. 

Instead, Cregan merely chuckled. "Actually, I sought a companion. A friend. Being here is lonely for me, and I thought you might show me what life in King's Landing is like. If I am to swear fealty to your family, I seek to know your customs. Your mother has told me that you are the most well-acquainted with the keep of her children." 

You smiled. Had your mother truly said that? It was true, since you spent so much time darting around the palace avoiding her orders. 

"Would you mind giving me a tour?" He asked. His tone was so gentle, so uncomplicated. It was like no man had ever spoken to me before. With respect, as if he were speaking to a friend. It was refreshing.

For the next few weeks, Cregan and I formed a friendship based on mutual respect. He informed me of Northern politics and asked for my opinions on complicated political matters through a Southern perspective. I introduced him to my dragon, Vermithor. Afternoons were spent in the Godswood picnicking for the purpose of introducing him to local cuisine, and evenings were spent in the library discussing literature. The relationship felt as easy as breathing to me, and I could tell he felt the same. After close to two moons, it had begun to frighten me how much I longed for his presence when we separated at the end of the day. 

There had always been a tangible tension between us that toed the line between friendship and romance. Lingering gazes, intentional touches, and meaningful words kept me up at night. He opened up to me about the unique grief of losing his wife in childbirth and having to leave his infant son at home so soon afterward. I showed him the scars littered across my body, and explained to him how I hated my beauty.

He had taken my head in his hands and looked through my soul with those gray eyes. 

"Your beauty... It is just a fraction of you. What is truly incredible is your kind heart, your wit, your intelligence, your soul..."

I had been unable in that moment to keep myself from kissing him, so I let my mind empty and I surged forward to connect our lips. He responded with fervor, bringing me close, the pads of his thumbs barely grazing the peach fuzz on my cheek. I could not even bring myself to feel ashamed about grabbing his tunic underneath his cloak, my fingers unknowing but desperate. He had taken my hands and pulled back, only to kiss my nose, then brow, then the corners of each eyes, and then my knuckles. 

Suddenly I came too. I saw in front of me the path that had been laid for me - a wife, be it to a good man or a bad one. I was still determined not to let that happen. 

As I often did, I had fled. I had avoided him until he went back to Winterfell. Two moons later, a raven came from him. I didn't dare open it, too afraid to face my actions. Even if I felt that I knew what the contents were, Cregan was not like other men I knew - thus I had always wondered what the letter said. I wondered if it was true that he truly cared for me and saw who I was inside. The thought made me realize that even I myself did not know what path may be laid in front of me. My feelings confused me, and I decided to shut the Lord of Winterfell out of my mind forever.

Except on some dark nights. 

And except for now, when Jacaerys prods my arm and awaits the answer to his question. I realized I must have been silent for a long time as his voice began to register in my head. 

"Lost in thought?" 

"Ha-ha," I shoved him back. "Sort of." 

Jace's face became serious. "I was only jesting, but perhaps I shouldn't have brought it up. I know you truly did care for him."

"How could you tell?" I asked, genuine curiosity lacing my tone. It was past the point where it was worth feeling awkward about the truth of my feelings. I was only human, after all. 

"He was kind to everybody, but especially to you." Jace pursed his lips in thought. "Although at the same time, he does not treat you like you're soft. It was like he loved hearing you speak. Like your word was God."

I smiled. 

Jace nudged me. "And... he looked at you like you hung the damn sun in the sky."

My heart skipped a beat hearing that. I knew it was true, but I was used to people looking at me in awe. As if I were a ball of light floating in front of them, ethereal, untouchable. Cregan was not afraid to see through me, to touch me. He made me feel held.

Emotion overcame me in that moment. I quickly scrambled up from the bag of grain Jace and I were lounging on, grasping my sword and tossing my hair over my shoulder. 

"Well, it's too late now," I quickly said, "He's in Winterfell and it does not matter if he cares for me or not, I do not want the life of a housewife."

Jace stood. "Who says that getting married means you'll become a housewife? You'll be a lady, you could do whatever you please." 

"It isn't just the marriage, it's the principle of it!" I cried, moving away from him towards the main training yard. "As soon as I take those vows, it means my purpose is only to bear children." As we entered the larger courtyard and grew closer to other people, he grasped my arm and spoke to me in a lowered voice. 

"I know you think I do not understand, but I am soon to be betrothed as well, likely to someone I will never love."

"Well, at the end of the line, you have a throne." I spit at him, spinning on my heel and leaving him staring helplessly after me.