#ente pair

[agregmarlenebtn]

[bathrobe-wizard]

sorry babe can't hang out tonight I'm contemplating the implications of mycelium networks in Middle-Earth

[tuesdayisfordancing]

Why :( :( :( :(

[streatfeild]

i‘m damaged bc i‘m reading jedtavius fanfic rn but. in my head their voices are trip‘s and malcolm

there‘s just sometging that gets me with the southern x british combo

[ent-is-undecisive]

On the one hand i do feel quite comfortable surpervising the groupwork because even if im not very good i still seem to be better at planning all this than my classmates but given that ive been a mess this is still not very good + i keep getting messages all day and giving instructions + if we fail itll be, like, 98% my fault. So thats not helping me being a mess.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Cherry Red.

Pairing: Yandere!Gojo x Reader x Yandere!Geto (JJK).

Written in conjunction with this ask from @eevwrites.

Word Count: 1.9k.

TW: Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Nonconsensual Drug Use, Implied Stalking, Kidnapping, Obsessive Behavior, Overstimulation, Biting/Marking, and Slight Dehumanization.

Really, your only mistake had been choosing the wrong savoir after Satoru had slipped something into your drink.

Satoru was obviously, visibly, undeniably a creep. That much was obvious from the second he approached you, neon pink cocktail in-hand and that degenerate grin plastered across his lips. He was sketchy, but he was also rich, and fun, and willing to dance with you hours after the rest of your friends had called it a night. Suguru wasn’t a creep �� or, he didn’t look like one, at least. When your vision started to darken, when it became harder than it should’ve been to put one foot in front of the other, it was his chest you stumbled into, using what was left of your consciousness to beg an imposing, aloof stranger to get the bartender’s attention and help you. It was what anyone else would’ve done. It was what you would’ve done, if the roles had been reversed.

It wasn’t until you felt his arm wrap around your waist, until you heard him call so lovingly to Satoru, that you realized how badly you’d fucked up.

Still, stumbling halfway across the club and throwing yourself at a total stranger must've attracted some attention. As Suguru gathered you in his arms, the bartender rounded towards you, eyeing your limp form and Suguru's slight smile warily. “Someone had little too much to drink,” he explained, nonchalantly. “It’s fine. Her boyfriend and I are going to take her home and make sure she gets tuck her in.”

‘Your boyfriend’ being Satoru, apparently, judging by the way he clung to Suguru’s side as you were carried out of the club entirely and piled into the backseat of an inconspicuous black car. Suguru drove and Satoru hovered over you – gnawing hickeys and bruises into your throat until you were too far gone to care.

Whatever they’d dosed you with, it was strong. You were strung out for most of the ride, only vaguely aware of passing scenery, Satoru’s keening whines, and Suguru’s gentle reminders to ‘wait, ‘toru’. By the time you felt your body being lifted, you were beyond the point of deliberate movement – your mind hyperactive, eager to latch onto every little sensation and spiraling thought, but unable to do much more than remind you to breath as you were hauled through a shrine courtyard and into a small, dimly lit backroom; the priest’s personal barracks, if you had to guess. Satoru babbled while Suguru lowered you onto a large, plush bed, and despite your best efforts, you caught most of it. “—and that’s when I knew it had to be you.” Suguru spared you an apologetic smile, his nimble hands moving over your body as he carefully removed your dress, then your shoes, then your panties, stripping you bare with all the care and all the tenderness of an avid collector undressing his favorite doll. “I mean, it took a few months, but I wanted it to be romantic, y’know? Suguru doesn’t get it. He thought I’d be happy with just anyone.”

“It took me a while to come around the idea. I might’ve gotten a little jealous.” You could only wish he would’ve stayed that away. “Come here, I need to show you what you’re doing.”

Suguru dragged you into his lap, keeping your upper body propped against his chest while spreading your legs apart in front of him. Satoru took his position eagerly between then, his eyes fixed on your cunt. “This,” he started, using two thick fingers to spread the folds of your labia apart, “is what you’re gonna fall in love with. Make sure you’re always paying attention to her clit – aw, look, it’s already poking out.”

It was humiliatingly clinical – how he touched you while explaining your anatomy in-detail, using the pad of his thumb to show Satoru how to play with your clit, dipping two fingers into your entrance while extrapolating on the importance of proper preparation, gathering your arousal up to make sure Satoru knew what it would look like when he was doing a good job. “Remember to be gentle. She’s going to be a lot more delicate than me,” he said, while curling two fingers inside of you, filling the bedroom with a rhythmic, humiliatingly wet sound. Your couldn't seem to open your mouth, and yet, little whimpers of discomfort and mewls of pleasure escaped your parted lips without resistance, each new noise drawing Satoru that much closer. “You’ll just be using your mouth, for now. We can talk about hands once you’ve shown some restraint.”

And yet, Satoru’s hands still found their way to your thighs, kneading mindlessly while Suguru split you open on his fingers. You tried to shake your head, to squirm against him, to tell him to stop, but the closest you got to anything coherent was a pitchy, keening sound not totally dissimilar to the whines Satoru would let out every now and then as he ground half-consciously into the mattress. You tried not to feel anything, either, but Suguru’s hands were so big, and his chest was so warm against your back, and with Satoru all-but drooling over your pussy, it would’ve been impossible not to come undone the second his palm ground against your clit and he spread his fingers apart inside of you, nursing you through your orgasm while making sure you were on fully-display. “See how she’s clenching down? That means she’s trying to milk your cock – you’ll get what I mean, once your inside of her.”

If only for a moment, your panic overshadowed your paralysis. Thrashing to either side, you did your best to fight against Suguru’s ironclad hold and finally spit something out, even if your voice was still barely stronger than a whimper. “N-No, don’t, you can’t—”

It was Satoru who cut you off, this time, albeit without breaking his nonverbal streak. His mouth crashed into yours with enough force to bruise, teeth clashing against yours as he shoved his tongue down your throat in less of a kiss and more of a prolonged attempt to choke you to death. It hurt, and you tasted blood, and if you hadn’t known better, than you would’ve thought this was his first—

Oh, god.

As if this couldn’t have gotten any worse.

He didn’t stay focused on your mouth for long. His attention drifted downward – first to your throat, then your collarbone, then your chest, latching onto one of your nipples and sucking harshly. You hadn’t realized how sensitive you were, not until his teeth dug into the plush of your breast and you let out a fractured sob, tears blurring your vision. Suguru’s response was instantaneous. In a fraction of a second, his slick-stained fingers were tangled in Satoru’s hair, prying him off of you entirely. “Gentle,” he repeated, his tone strict, authoritative. “Before I decide you need to be muzzled.”

For what it was worth, Satoru seemed apologetic. After Suguru loosened his hold, he nuzzled into your chest, lapping over his past love bites with the flat of his tongue. “’m sorry, just got excited.” And then, smiling up at you, “You didn’t mind, right? I mean, she definitely doesn’t.”

You had no idea what he was talking about, not until his head dropped to your cunt and he buried his face between your thighs, his attention suddenly solely dedicated to your pussy.

There was no attempt made to use his hands. Despite Suguru’s instructions, he ate you out like a starving animal – his tongue fucking into your cunt as the bridge of his nose ground mindlessly against your clit. Suguru kept his hand in Satoru’s hair, petting gingerly over his scalp as he watched Satoru drool and lap at your cunt. “Use your entire tongue, and don't inhale. She’s not going to be impressed if you manage to drown yourself in pussy.” Suguru tugged lightly, and Satoru let out an unabashed moan, the reverberations going straight to your core. “Don't get distracted, either. Don’t you want to know what she tastes like cumming on your tongue?”

Another moan, another rough buck of Satoru’s hips into the now disheveled sheets. He was terrible, and messy, and loud, and it was humiliating how quickly you lost control of yourself – going stiff against Suguru as Satoru all-but tore your second climax out of you. Suguru grinned against your throat, almost purring with satisfaction. “Good boy. So dedicated, so sweet.” He let go of Satoru’s hair – cupping your face, instead. It was only as his thumb traced over your cheek that you realized you were crying in-earnest, now. “She’s tearing up, ‘toru. That means she wants you to keep going.”

A mix of your arousal and his saliva stained the inside of your thighs, dampening the sheets underneath you, but he didn’t pull away – too caught up in your taste or Suguru’s praise to stop. It might’ve been the overstimulation, or the drugs, or some impossible, nebulous factor you couldn’t so much as begin to guess as, but time seemed to blur together, reality buckling under its own weight as Satoru wrung another orgasm out of you, then another, then another, as Suguru continued to shower him with praise and affection and promises that you liked him, that you wanted this, that you were only crying and thrashing and trying to snap your thighs shut because you felt so good. At some point, you lost the will to keep your eyes open, and minutes later, the harsher edges of your consciousness began to soften. For once, you couldn't be mad at your own body's instinctual submission.

You knew you were going to black out, but you weren't scared. By the time your vision flickered out and everything went black, the only thing you could think to be was grateful that you’d be fortunate enough to miss the main event.

~

You woke up what felt like days later, still lying on the bed you’d blacked out in. Their paralytics had worn off, but trying to make a run for it was out of the question. Every part of your body ached – from your hickey-painted chest to your aching hips to your poor, abused pussy – and even if you’d been able to move, it wouldn’t have done you much good. Familiar bodies caged you in on either side, Suguru’s chest still pressing into your back while Satoru clung to your chest, his arms wrapped around your midriff and his nails embedded in your sides. As if you hadn't already been thoroughly marked.

Suguru stirred first, predictably. It wasn’t hard to tell who was in charge between the two of them. “Our little sleeping beauty,” he muttered into your hair, kissing the top of your head as he sat up and shook Satoru away. “We were starting to get worried – must’ve pushed you too hard last night. You almost missed the most important part.”

Something caught in your throat. “…almost?”

“Yes, princess, almost.” With a groan, Satoru sat up, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. Immediately, his gaze fell to you, and just as quickly, he was on top of you – pinning you to the mattress, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. “You should be thankful that Satoru had the patience to wait. I wouldn’t have been so nice.”

You felt Satoru’s hands paw at your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist as he aligned his stiff, leaking cock with your entrance. He moved enthusiastically, but mechanically, like a trained dog. Like he was following instructions. Weakly, you tried to push at his chest, to get him away from you, but you gave up quickly.

You’d been wrong to be grateful. It would’ve been better to get this over with last night.

At least, then, you might’ve been out of it enough to miss the twisted, blissful, lovesick grin painted across Satoru’s lips as he buried himself inside of you.

[notjustjavierpena]

Swelter

Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: This happened because the SAG Awards made me horny. I have no other explanation for my behavior, no other defence. Maybe that I was listening to ur dad by VIAL. Obviously also a huge thanks to @strang3lov3 for being the cutest love bug I know, and for putting up with my brainstorming sessions.

Summary: You have a crush on Sarah’s father. It is summer, it is hot, and you just want a cold drink.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, best friend’s dad, significant age gap (reader is 19-22, Joel is in his mid-40s), SEXUAL TENSION, bee stings, groping, voyeur to some degree, f masturbation, dirty talk, an endless amount of pet names, sexy play with a soda can, praise kink, car sex, daddy kink, fingering, unprotected piv sex, joel’s cock is huge in this, creampie, premature ejaculation, pussy eating, come eating, squirting

Word count: 6.8k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54233479

Swelter

A warm Texas breeze blows through the open window of Sarah’s childhood room, making the see-through pink curtains move elegantly from side to side. It hits your back right underneath your halter neck as you lay on Sarah’s bed, caressing your bare skin and making you think of him. You wonder if his hands would have the same effect on you because you find yourself shivering but not from feeling cold. He is somewhere here, and his daughter doesn’t even know that her best friend obsesses about that fact.

Sarah hasn’t changed her room since she was a teenager. She told you this the first time she brought you here, which is almost a year ago today. You were here last summer too, thrilled to be invited to spend a few weeks of your summer with a friend from college and you and her have been inseparable ever since, even if you are so different from each other.

You have your face in a woman’s magazine, propped up on your elbows so you can suck on a popsicle stick whilst turning the pages. There’s a page with the recipe for ‘The Best Fudgy Chocolate Cake Ever!’ next to a page on how to lose weight, and it makes you snort.

“What?” Sarah turns on her chair, pausing the video on her computer.

“What kinda woman are you? You can choose one, but only one. Don’t get greedy now!” You make a scratchy voice but then pop your ice pop in your mouth to hold up the magazine for her to see.

“Seriously? We can’t win,” she groans dramatically, “Chocolate cake always. I just want to be happy, and that looks like a serotonin boost.”

Suddenly, the door opens without any warning. It’s him. Mr. Miller. You quickly remove the popsicle from your mouth, not about to show him how your lips are stretched around the sugary snack. The open door causes a draft to blow the smell of his cologne your way, and it is intoxicating beyond your imagination because you relish in it in secret.

“Dad,” Sarah says with exasperation, “I thought being an adult earned you the privilege of more privacy.”

“It’s gettin’ colder outside now,” he states and ignores her comment, hand resting on the doorknob, “The Adlers need Mercy to be walked, and the pavement’s coolin’ down.”

“I walked him when I was fourteen,” she furrows her brow and you suppress a snicker, “I’m twenty.”

“Just ‘cause you’re grown, don’t mean you can’t do right by ‘em,” he states matter-of-factly.

“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you say from your spot on the bed as Sarah fumes quietly, absentmindedly reaching to pull the short skirt of your dress down. He can probably see the start of your ass from how it has been riding up as you lay down on the sheets.

“Hiya darlin’,” he replies and you swear you can hear a restrained sound in his voice. He turns to Sarah again, “Get your butt off that chair.”

“Fine,” she follows through on her orders but still wants to argue, probably embarrassed at being ordered around by her father in front of her friend. She gestures to you, “And what about my guest?”

“She’s grown too, which means she can probably entertain herself the half hour you’ll be gone,” he dares wink at you, and blood courses through your veins.

“I’ll just get that assignment done while you’re out,” you reassure and try not to seem like your core is shaking.

“See?” Joel looks triumphant.

“You’d make a hell of a lawyer,” she deadpans at her father and walks past him.

When he closes the door and leaves you alone in the bedroom, you can feel your popsicle having melted, its syrupy water running down your fingers. You switch hands and suck the sticky fingers into your mouth. The action makes Mr. Miller’s image flash in your mind and you press your thighs together before getting up and finding your laptop.

You find that it’s near impossible to concentrate on proofreading your assignment in the tiny bedroom after just five minutes of being alone. It’s not that you can’t concentrate in the Summer heat but no matter what you do, your mind keeps circling back to Joel’s voice as he called you darling. It heats you more than the sun ever could, and with every tap on your keyboard, your mouth gets more and more dry.

Eventually, you push yourself to stand from your seat at the desk and make a decision to go fetch something to drink, and it is definitely not with the intention of accidentally bumping into Sarah’s father. Not even when you do not find Joel in the kitchen and decide to bypass it altogether to continue into the garage in hopes of being successful in your search for a drink (obviously).

This infatuation started last year. It took you about ten seconds - from walking into the kitchen and shaking Joel’s hand - to realize that Sarah was cursed with having him as a father. Firstly, he was outrageously handsome; always wearing washed-out t-shirts that clung to his shoulders, always smiling with teeth, sporting salt-and-pepper curls, and sometimes even shocking you by entering the kitchen with working gloves on. However, when he opened his mouth and spoke, a southern drawl dripped from his lips and made your whole body tense up. He was charming, respectful, and laughed at the right moments. Most importantly, he laughed at every damn attempt that you made at being funny, and while it was probably an attempt to be nice and make you feel at home, it spurred you on terribly to win him over at every opportunity.

Despite all that, those opportunities weren’t many. He was also cool enough to know that his daughter didn’t want him hanging around all the time, and so he spent many days either in the garden to mow the lawn in competition with the rest of the fathers down the street, in the garage to fix up some old truck, or with his brother, Tommy, and Tommy’s wife who always had some DIY-project going on.

Thus, the summer became one of tanning sessions in the garden, movies in Sarah’s room, stolen glances at Joel Miller whenever he came inside to quench his thirst after hard labor, and secret longing whenever he had kept away for too long.

One particular day last year, Sarah had failed to mention that her father would be home most of the last days you were in their house, and because he was always out, you were getting more and more comfortable with walking around in your towels post-showers or leaving the door unlocked when changing.

The particular event had happened in the morning when the house had been silent except for the kitchen where Sarah was preparing breakfast, using a large box of pancake mix and the whole fruit section of the local grocery store for topping. You had just showered, standing with your head in your suitcase to search for the last few pieces of clothing you had that were clean when there was a rap on the door and a pull of the handle not even a second later.

“Sarah, I need—“

You whipped around at the sound of a new voice entering the room. Your heart nearly burst out of your chest, feeling as though it was fighting its way out between your ribs as embarrassment began to flood your system. Even so, you stood too frozen to reach for something to cover yourself up.

Joel was in the doorway and dead silent, looking as if struck by lightning. Like earlier today, his hand had been resting on the doorknob and in the painfully short moment that the both of you were processing the situation, you saw that his grip tightened enough to whiten his knuckles.

And then it happened, the thing that had soaked you in forbidden desire and delicious excitement; his gaze had flickered down your body and taken you in for the briefest of seconds. His gaze had traveled from the hard peaks of your nipples to the shape of your hips and the softness of your young cunt.

“Fuck,” you heard him utter as he remembered himself and his self-awareness made you finally grab the top you were going to be wearing that day to cover up your quivering body. He slammed the door shut and spoke through it, “Christ, ’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“It’s okay, Mr. Miller,” you promised but he was already gone. You immediately locked the door afterward to come so hard with two fingers on your clit that you had to hold onto the chair by the desk.

God, you want him to look at you like that again, want to tell him it is all for him. Now, as wrong as you know it is, you find yourself searching for an excuse to get him to ogle you and the chances are higher if he actually spends time with you.

“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you announce yourself as you enter the garage through the door in the kitchen. Joel has his head inside the hood of his truck, leaning over to inspect something that you wouldn’t understand anything about anyway. He grips the front side of the engine room to push himself to stand, closes the top of the hood of his truck, and turns around to face you.

“Hey kiddo,” he returns with a smile, “How many times do I gotta say to ya that it’s just Joel?”

“Alright, Mr. Miller,” you tease, “—I mean, Just Joel.”

You hear him laugh softly but you don’t dare look at him, afraid that you’ll spontaneously combust. He goes to the utility sink to wash his hands, saying nothing more and making you feel insane for coming apart in the silence.

“I’m just getting something to drink,” you explain when it becomes too much, “Sarah’s room is boiling hot.”

“That’s fine, take what you’d like,” he replies, and there’s a kind teasing in his voice. “But don’t touch the orange sodas. Those are mine.”

The concrete floor of the garage is cold on your bare feet as you pad across the floor where an old bottom-freezer refrigerator stands in the corner, humming in the otherwise quiet room. It has seen better days, and it seems like Sarah has tried to cheer up its weathered appearance by covering it in stickers and ugly magnets.

“Now I have to get one of those,” you giggle and pull the door open, scanning the contents and noticing that the sodas are on the bottom shelf. You hesitate for just a second, and then you choose to bend over instead of crouching down. Behind you, Joel Miller is completely silent.

In the beginning, it hadn’t been your intention to let the crush fester in your brain and turn it into something more but last week, during dinner out on the terrace, you had accidentally sat down on a bee and gotten stung on the back of your thigh. The cry you had let out had nearly made Joel tip over the table to get to you, his chair falling backward as he got up from his seat.

“Fuck! Ow ow ow!” You cried and hobbled around on the grass. The pain was unbearable but the shock only seemed to make it worse.

“Sarah, please get some ice and some antihistamines. There should be a bottle on my nightstand,” Joel ordered quickly and she rushed inside. He walked toward you, grabbing at your shoulders to ground you but his touch only heightened all other sensations. He dug his thumbs into you and your head swam, “Sweetheart, ‘tis just a bee, shh, calm down. I need to remove the stinger. Lemme see ya.”

“It really fucking hurts, Mr. Miller,” you said with a whine as he guided you to one of the loungers that Sarah and you had dragged out from the shed earlier that week.

“I know,” he finally let go of you so you could think just a bit more clearly, “Lemme take a look. Lie down on your front.”

You followed orders with the realization of how much you trusted his judgment, that he would treat you right, moving carefully because the flex of your thigh muscle was making the pain worse. The wooden lounger burned slightly against the front of your thighs, and you pressed your cheek into its slats while screwing your eyes shut.

The wood creaked behind you as he knelt on it with one knee and suddenly, his broad hand was perched on the top of your thigh in an attempt to keep your skin taut. You sucked in a breath but he only mistook it for more pain.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I can see it,” his breath was slightly quicker but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions, “He really got ya right on your inner thigh. Hold on.”

Your eyes shot open when his thumb ran towards the innermost part of the back of your thigh, a sort of panicked arousal spiking from your chest and thighs. He paused for a second then murmured something, a swear word that you tried to take as frustration. There was a beat but then he cleared his throat, “Can you bend your leg a little? I wanna make sure that I get it on the first try.”

“How?” You asked stupidly. The image of how he would be looming over your backside made your heartbeat go down between your legs, “My dress’ll ride up.”

“Just bend the knee a little, pull it towards your chest,” he explained and cleared his throat once more, “On my life, I won’t look.”

So you did as he told you, and sure enough, your dress betrayed you by crawling slowly up to sit around your hip instead of the middle part of your thigh. You looked back at him when he started picking at the stinger with his nails, and you hoped that he would not notice your gawking at his concentrated expression.

A flash of the day he had barged in on you naked flashed in your mind because his eyes were so focused on not staring at you that you nearly whimpered when you saw his eyes flicker to the spot of dampness between your legs for no more than a second.

You had worn white cotton panties that day so they would not be seen through your dress. They were straining against your pussy in this position and all he had to do was reach out, and he’d find your clit poking against the fabric from how excited you were feeling.

He had had the perfect outline of your cunt, and it’s the same now as you bend over to get to the very bottom of the fridge, reaching for a cold drink that just happens to be his favorite. You know that he can see everything, and the worst is that you know he already has. Twice. The mere thought is so dirty that your heart starts pounding in your chest and sends heat through your already hot body, so you hurry to stretch to your full height again.

With a cocky grin that is mostly put on to hide your anxious excitement about what you have just done, you turn to face Joel and walk to stand in front of him and his car. His cologne fills your nostrils again, and the scent seems once again to have a direct line to your cunt because you have never felt more empty. In front of you, Joel’s jaw is clenched but other than that, he seems a lot more calm and composed than you.

That is until you jump onto the hood of the car and scoot back, letting your bare feet dangle out over the edge. You crack open the soda in your hand and take a sip that is a little longer than intended. The satisfying burn of the fizz grounds you in the warm climate, but it is even more heavenly as you tuck the skirt of your dress between your thighs so you can place the cold can there.

Joel shakes his head with a sigh but you know he is playing a game as much as you because he cannot help but crack a smile back at you, “You’re trouble, I knew it the second Sarah brought ya into my house.”

“Oh, whatever will I do?” You ask dramatically and lean back against the windshield.

“Go morally bankrupt?” He raises a brow. If only he knew what is going through your mind. You catch him looking at you in the fashion that you have craved when you sigh deeply and cause your chest to push out.

“Only that?” You take another sip and some of the contents spill down your chin in a thick, sticky trail due to the angle you’re sitting in. You reach up to wipe it away with your index finger and then dare to suck your finger clean with the intention of mimicking the way that you had licked it clean earlier when it had been coated in melted popsicle.

“Give it here,” he says. You lock eyes with him. However, your eyes widen slightly when he nods at the can and takes it from between your thighs. There’s electricity shooting through your nerves the second his fingers touch the fabric of your dress but they intensify to a dizzying degree when he takes a sip of the soda too.

Like a reflex, the sight of him drinking from the can that’s been nestled between your thighs makes your legs fall out to the sides. You’re worse than an obedient dog in your horniness, reacting the same way to the way he moves as it would to the sound of a bell ringing.

Your dress rides up slowly along your thighs, revealing your sweaty skin that feels sticky by now and Joel clears his throat after briefly looking down. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and when you realize the effect it has on the poor man, you grab the hem and pull upwards, “It’s so hot outside today. Don’t think I’ll ever get used to the heat here in Texas.”

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he says and his face has got a pinker tint, pulse visible on the side of his neck. With his free hand, he grabs one of your knees and starts nudging your legs together again. He yanks your skirt down, “I know I’m always teasin’ ya but you can’t be doing this.”

“Jesus Christ, Joel,” you say with exasperation and move your legs out again, “It’s just very hot… and it’s not like you haven’t had a peek.”

“Hey now,” he leans forward to place the can of soda on the roof of the truck, “That ain’t a fair accusation.”

“I’m not accusing you of anything,” you reply, chewing on your bottom lip, “But you’re not denying it.”

“Don’t tryna make me look like the pervert here,” he scolds, taking a step towards you and causing your stomach to do somersaults, “I noticed the way you went real quiet when my hands were on you.”

“What do you mean?” You furrow your brows in confusion, “Your hands were never on m–”

“Did that bee sting really hurt that much?” He clarifies. Oh, you think whilst he smirks with triumph. Something has switched in the air surrounding you, the atmosphere has become more daring, “Yeah, I saw her; your pussy wet f’me.”

It’s true. If you think about it too much, you can still feel your heartbeat in the places where he touched you, and the pulse is rapid and overwhelming. You can’t imagine what it'll be like if he touches you underneath your dress, even if it’s simply on the outside of your panties. The thought has your underwear starting to dampen, the fabric starting to stick to you, and make you painfully aware of the wetness between your legs.

“Did ya touch yourself after?” His eyes have darkened slightly. His pupils are dilating with desire for your answer, and you nod hesitantly, overwhelmed by the need to tell him everything.

“During my shower that you told me to take,” you confess and hear him make a sound low in his throat at the mental image, “I couldn’t stop myself— I wanted you so badly. The thought of you inside me...”

This is a crossroad, you realize, you’ve said your deepest secret of depravity. On one hand, you can bolt out the door or you can make a move to show him what you really came down here for. The latter is risky but Joel is so goddamn decent that you know that if he doesn’t want this - which you doubt is the case at this point - he’ll gently reject you and never mention it again if it means that his daughter will continue having a best friend.

However, as your mind races with scenarios of what could or could not happen in this moment, Joel pulls you back into reality as his hand, cold from gripping the can, rests on your knee again but this time, it doesn’t try to make you decent like before. Instead, it slides up under your skirt in such a slow motion that you find yourself holding your breath.

“Is this what’ll quiet down that mind of yours?” He asks in a low voice, eyes flickering from your face to down between your legs and back again, “If I take a peek more to get it outta our system?”

“What are you doing?” You ask as if you do not know. It’s your turn to be scandalized by bluntness, and you find yourself gripping his arm but not hard enough to signal that you do not want him to continue. You hope that he realizes that this is not you rejecting his advances.

“I ain’t doing nothin’ that you haven’t already silently begged me to do. Perhaps sometimes - and God help me, I will probably regret it - you just needa follow your instincts when a pretty girl like you has been sendin’ me heart eyes all week,” he almost sounds annoyed with you, and to stop yourself from being scolded, your hand loosens its grip on him until you remove it altogether. He smiles, “Good girl.”

“You shouldn’t—“ you feel a rush of blood to your head, adrenaline kicking in as your thoughts circle around the repercussions that this can bring. In all honesty, you had only walked in here to have Joel’s eyes on you but now, you are getting more than you bargained for and it is making you so turned on that your mind is clear and foggy at the same time. Boldly, you sit up on the car’s hood so you can reach for the buckle of Joel’s belt, “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“You’re damn right we shouldn’t be doin’ this,” he agrees immediately but doesn’t stop. His warm and rough palms skim further up your thighs until they settle by your hips, his thumbs teasing the elastic band of your panties. He starts to drag them down, the fabric nearly snapping in two when you barely register that you have to lift your ass to help him.

His fingers unintentionally caress your calves as he slides the underwear down to eventually pull them off your ankles and feet. The sensation makes your body wake up even more, a gush of wetness smearing your inner thighs and you know that you have to pull your dress up soon if you don’t want it stained.

In front of you, Joel reads your mind. He shoves the hem of your dress up as far as he can without a word with desperation in his trembling hands, and you move to let him bunch it up around your waist so he has a full view of what waits - and for long has waited - for him.

When your cunt is revealed to him, he groans like he is in pain at the sight of the slick shining on your soft youthful skin. You can see how hard he is in his jeans, cock straining against the zipper at the front of them.

He looks like he wants to touch but hesitates. The first sign of his inner conflict. You remember that he did say just a peek as if there’s an unspoken agreement that he is not to cross the line of touching what he shouldn’t want to have. It would definitely be a nuclear decision if he chooses to do it anyway. It makes you want it even more, and another gush spills from your glistening slit when you clench from excitement.

Joel swears under his breath, something that sounds like fuck it and it sets it in stone; he is going to ruin you for eternity right here on his car. He steps closer until your spread knees bump into his sides, and without saying anything you move to yank his jeans and briefs down, settling them around his hips with a soft gasp as you take in the sight of his fully hard cock. He is huge. So huge that your mouth starts salivating like you’ve already been fucked stupid and your walls try to clamp down on nothing. It’ll hurt. You want it to if it means that you won’t doubt if it ever happened tomorrow.

“Tell me you want this too,” he seeks your reassurance.

“So fucking badly, Mr. Miller— Joel,” you say without any hint of second-guessing in your voice. You scoot further forward on the car and lean back so he has better access, trying your best to be elegant in your messy state, “Please, want you in me.”

“Jeez, honey,” his breath shakes, “Already so eager. I haven’t even felt if she’s ready f’me.”

With one hand gripping your left thigh, he uses two fingers on his right hand to slide through your wet folds and you don’t think you have ever been this turned on for anyone; when he flips his palm upwards and shoves two fingers inside of you, you feel more arousal drip from your cunt and pool in his hand. The longing you have felt since you saw him for the first time finds somewhere to empty all its desire and desperation into, and you whine like you’re in a state of agony.

“Shhh…” he soothes and curls his digits inside of you until you think you might start crying, squelching cunt trying to pull him further into you as he fingers you lazily. Your gaze drops to how his cock twitches whilst standing in the air, “You’re grippin’ me so good, doll, can’t wait to fuck this pussy. Don’t cry like that. Be patient.”

“Please, I’m so—“ your palms are flat on the hood of the car, your mouth hangs open in ecstasy and you stare down at where his ring- and middle finger disappears repeatedly into you, “It’s yours, please.”

“I know it’s mine, don’t gotta say it, I know,” he coos at each of your whimpers, gets you worked up until you are just on the brink of coming, and then he moves quickly. He pulls his fingers out of you, smears his cock with what you’ve soaked his whole palm with, and leans over your gasping frame to nudge at your quivering hole.

When he finally enters you, the both of you gasp in unison. He struggles with it for a moment, rubbing the skin just below your belly button to make you relax because he is so much bigger than you had first anticipated, and such a tight fit that you think he might split you in two.

“Goddamn, you are tight,” he says through gritted teeth, “Feels fuckin’ amazin’.”

“Ah,” you feel like letting yourself turn into a drooling mess already, pulsating around him from the way your body struggles to take him, “Joel, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can, honey,” he encourages, showing no signs of pulling out of you to free you from the burn of his girth. He growls low in his throat as you struggle with it, and you know it’s because your walls are clenching around him as you involuntarily move, “Stay still, let her get used to it.”

“It hurts,” you whine, sliding slightly on the metal underneath your ass. He presses his hips forward even further and causes you to whimper but in doing so, he holds you firmly in place by using his strong frame.

“I know but ya just gotta relax,” he goes on. He places one hand flat on the hood of the car and then places the other right on your hip, thumb going inwards to find your clit. It pulses under his finger, trying to find out whether to find the pain delicious or not.

When his thumb starts going in circles on you, your thigh muscles start to twitch and flex from burning desire instead of uncomfortable pain. He presses down a little to stroke your sensitive nub with even more determination and smiles at his success when a moan slips from your mouth, “That’s it, honey. Just enjoy this until you’re creamin’ on me, and then I can fuck her real good.”

Your walls start to flutter a few seconds after the first new round of pleasurable sounds leave you, and the more his finger moves on you, the easier it gets to take him because the pain turns into nothing more than a dull ache in the background of ecstasy. He has you breathing faster and faster, and in return, he starts moving his thumb up and down to make his touches more direct.

God, your clit is hardening underneath his torment. He stares at what he is doing, an occasional grunt leaving him from how you involuntarily squeeze his length, and you know that he can sense it, suddenly smirking to himself as you near your climax. He admires the sight of you, eyes glued to the way the hood of your clit has drawn back, “Babydoll, look at that. Such a pretty pussy, clit peekin’ out and all. Does she wanna come on my cock?”

“Please, yes, oh please,” you nod repeatedly, mouth hanging open in an o-shape and breaths coming out in small puffs. Your climax is within reach, and Joel looks concentrated as he more than willingly hands it over to you whilst buried deep inside of you. The concentration on his face is probably from keeping himself from spilling inside of you too soon, but God, he looks gorgeous as he determinedly strokes your cunt.

“Yes, yes, yesyesyes— oh God, I’m… fuck, I’m coming!” You shake with pleasure as he causes your pussy to spasm, your hands barely able to find out what to do and making you grab at both the metal underneath you with one hand and his wrist with the other. Your eyes are squeezed shut but you do not doubt that he is staring at you in awe as you come so hard that reality fades.

“Good girl,” he rasps, voice unsteady and hand hitting the hood of the car as the feeling becomes overwhelming, “Oh sweetheart, you’re choking my dick so g—“

He swears quietly and then loudly, and suddenly, his cool demeanor crumbles because he is spilling his load inside of you with a pathetic and strained grunt. His hips stutter slightly and warmth spreads slowly inside of you, mixing with your own arousal.

You look down to where the two of you are connected, feeling fucked out despite not even having had the chance to feel him move inside of you. His come has started to spill from you already, dripping obscenely from your cunt.

“Fuck,” you hear Joel say above you. He slips out of you and leaves you gaping and mewling for a second, starting to take a step back. You catch him with your legs before he is too far away, and he reluctantly steps close to you again. He looks embarrassed but gives you a smile to hide it, “Felt too good, honey. This pussy’s makin’ me all sweet on you.”

“I’m that irresistible?” You grin in your post-orgasmic haze, not really giving a crap about the lack of a proper fuck from how much dopamine is coursing through your veins.

Joel takes hold of your thighs as they are wrapped around your body and lifts them off of himself, “You’re makin’ an old bastard like me weak in the knees, so maybe. Hah! Comin’ too soon like a goddamn teenager.”

“I liked it,” you admit without hesitation, still basking in the sweet afterglow, “Made me feel sexy and powerful.”

He scoffs but can’t fight the smile on his face, “Now now, don’t get cocky on me. Crawl back a little, spread ya legs f’me.”

You giggle and do as you are told, presenting yourself to him on the hood of his car. You plant your bare feet on the metal, lay back against the windshield, and smile.

“Now look at that,” he tuts as he admires his work; white ropes of come dripping down from your slit and onto the surface beneath you. He lays both hands flat on the car and leans forward, and before you know it, his mouth is covering your whole cunt and he eats from you like he’s paid to do it.

“Jesus,” you groan, throwing your head back and grabbing onto the roof of the car with one hand whilst the other finds Joel’s hair. You tug and he moans against you, sending vibrations through your whole lower body and beginning the first stirrings of another high. You don’t think that you can take it, squirming just like you had done moments earlier.

Joel makes a sound of disapproval. He scoops his arms under your thighs until he can lay his hands on top of them, holding you tightly against his mouth and causing you to cry towards the ceiling when he makes your second orgasm approach so quickly that nothing in your brain makes sense except what he is doing between your legs.

The hand on the roof of his car goes to his head too. You slide your fingers on both hands through his hair until they lay at the back of his neck, and then you yank once more at the curls there. His tongue works at your clit, swiping back and forth over it until you think that you might see God.

However, it doesn’t stay there. Instead, it is replaced by his nose so that he can eat his own spill straight from you by dipping his tongue hungrily inside of you.

“Joel— holy fuck, you’re incredible,” you close your eyes to concentrate on your pleasure. Who knew that the man could fuck with his tongue? He is warm and wet inside of you, slurping pornographically until you are clean of any remains of his come.

You are just about to finish a second time when he halts whatever he is doing. He pulls back only a few inches so you can still feel his uneven breaths against your cunt.

“No! Please,” your eyes fly open, you cry desperately, and throw your head forward dramatically. You want to thrash but he still has your legs locked in his arms, so you decide to pull out the big guns and hope for the best, “Please, Daddy! Pleasepleaseplea—“

“What the fuck did you just say t’me?” He looks up at you but you are too busy screwing your eyes shut in agony whilst whining for more. He growls and releases one of your legs, “I was already gonna make you a happy young lady but now, I’m gonna make you come so hard your little brain goes dumb. See how it feels. Impatient girl.”

His hand goes between your legs. He turns his palm upwards and then shoves two thick fingers inside of your pussy like earlier, curling them slightly and then pumping them so quickly that blood starts speeding through your system a second after and your heart rate goes so fast that you know that you are just about to come.

“Joel, oh my— fuck!” You whimper.

“Wrong word,” he replies.

You correct yourself immediately because there’s no way he is stopping again to chastise you once more, “Daddy, oh I— mhmm, I’m gonna come for you. Don’t stop, please, please Daddy, pleasepleaseplea—!”

He responds just how you had liked: He closes his mouth around your swollen clit and sucks hard, finally severing all connection to your brain and you come so hard that you actually squeal. Joel groans against you, feeling you squeeze the digits he has buried deep inside you. He draws back his fingers, pressing upwards the whole way.

Clear liquid squirts from you the second he pulls them out. The gushes that follow are so intense that the leg he isn’t holding anymore shakes so violently that the metal rattles under you, the car staining with your come. He repeats the move again and again, over and over, and watches the steady trickle down the hood and onto the concrete floor that turns a dark gray.

Euphoria courses through your being as you come in a way that you have never felt before. Your limbs tingle as warmth spreads out from beneath your belly button, your cunt pulses with eager pleasure, and you sob through the waves that crash over you without giving you time to recover from the last. The whole room feels brighter and its colors more vibrant.

“Shh, baby, let it happen, feels so good, don’t it? That’s it,” Joel coos at you the whole way through, guides you through it when you barely know how to use your words. He has straightened to his full height again but you don’t know when, and he has slowed his fingers down to tease out a few aftershocks. You whimper feebly at each one, and when Joel seems satisfied with what he has drawn out of you, he covers your whole mound with his palm to soothe the feeling of overstimulation that settles.

“Soundproof,” he mutters, once again reading your mind when you come to your senses again and start thinking about your noise levels with furrowed brows and eyes flitting from him to the garage door. Your heartbeat has started to slow again, and the relief of knowing no one has been able to hear you makes you slump against the windshield and breathe deeply.

The remnants of your orgasm have made you smile, your body slipping into a deep state of satisfaction when the anxieties have been dispelled. Joel moves his hand up your lower body until it settles between your breasts, still covered by your dress. He caresses your heaving chest, looking at you boyishly for the first time, “You good? Didn’t cause any brain damage, did I?”

“You think this truck has ever seen action like that before?” You joke breathlessly.

“Probably ain’t the first time I disappointed a gorgeous lady in its presence,” he says with an apologetic smile, “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Disappointed? You’re insane,” you stretch your arms above your head to get some of the last bits of euphoria out of your body, trying to ignore the way he has just called you a gorgeous lady. He probably means nothing by it. As your stretch peaks, you moan gently, “I came two times. Hard. I’m not complaining.”

“Just saying that I woulda liked to do it… properly, I guess,” he talks as he stuffs himself back into his underwear and pants, most likely trying to feel the least uncomfortable about mentioning his overexcitement. Automatically, he steps back when you jump off the car to adjust your dress.

“This doesn’t have to be a one-time thing,” you try to act casual as you say it but there’s no way you are accepting the best sex of your life to be a thing you will never have again, reducing it to a movie merely playing behind your eyelids as a cruel reminder of what is unattainable.

“And when would we have time for that?” He asks, zipping up his jeans. He wipes his hands on them, “We can’t, honey.”

“We just did,” you mumble, picking up your underwear from the floor. You turn the panties in your hands, just about to bend down to put them on before deciding against it. Boldly, you stand in front of him and stuff your sticky underwear into his front pocket; closest to his crotch. There are extra pairs in your bag in Sarah’s room. He can have these.

He looks down briefly and then finds your eyes. His jaw clenches as he weighs his words, “When?”

“Aren’t you driving me to the airport on Sunday?” You smile and kiss his cheek, and then you leave him, your soda in hand and a mess on the floor.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[judyvan]

Keep It Down (The Morning After) - Matt Sturniolo Fanfic

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The Morning After

Summary: You desperately want Matt, but his brothers are in the house. Will you be able to contain yourself to avoid the awkwardness?

Warnings: MDNI/ suggestive sexual content/ mattxfem!reader/ bf!matt/ daddy kink/ humiliation/ use of "you"

A/N: This is my first fanfic. Interactions are appreciated. There are multiple parts to this story, this is the last one. Please don't steal my shit. Thanks!💋

To read the first part (Movie Night) click here.

To read the second part click here.

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When your eyes peel open the next morning, your head instantly replays the sexual encounter you and Matt had. Just remembering the way that you felt, sends a jolt down your body. Nick and Chris couldn’t find something else to do soon enough. You roll over to find Matt still asleep. You stare at him and admire his beauty for a few minutes. How could someone be this sexy when they aren’t even awake? You gently push the hair off of his forehead and plant a gentle kiss where his hair was once laying. The warmth of your lips makes Matt’s eyes flutter open.

“I’m going to go make breakfast,” you whisper, Matt struggling to keep his eyes open. You play with his hair. The graze of your fingernails against his scalp send tingles down his spine, lulling him to sleep.

“Mhm,” he barely lets out before dozing back off.

You creep out of bed in search for your panties. You are gently moving around the room, partly to avoid waking Nick and Chris, but also because you can barely walk. Nick and Chris typically wake up after you and Matt, but, with all of last night's ruckus, you don't want to take any chances. After putting on your underwear, you head to Matt’s dresser and grab a pair of his boxers out of a drawer to wear as shorts. You leave the room and make your way to the kitchen, every step quiet and planned out, avoiding all of the creaky floorboards.

You enter the kitchen and walk over to the fridge. Upon opening the doors, you don’t find much to work with. Typical. After rounding up some things, you make your way to the stove. You begin to make some bacon and scrambled eggs. Every sizzle and pop make you jump, on edge about having to come face to face with your boyfriend’s brothers. When the bacon and eggs are done, you put them on a plate and start to mix the pancake batter. As you pour some circles on the pan, you hear someone enter the kitchen. Don’t turn around. Don’t turn around. Unexpectedly, you see a tattooed arm wrap around your waist. Your hand reaches up and comes into contact with the stubble on the side of Matt’s face. He pulls you into a tight hug from behind.

“Goodmorning,” he says groggily, kissing you on the top of your head. His morning voice makes your stomach lurch, obviously eager to have him back inside of you.

“Goodmorning,” you reply. Your voice is still slightly hoarse from hollering last night. Matt chuckles at your inability to talk completely normally.

“What’s cookin’ good lookin’?” Matt asks as you flip a few pancakes. His big hands find your thighs and slide up the boxer shorts that you’re wearing. He nudges your head to the side and passionately kisses your neck, hooking his fingers under your panties. He clearly isn’t over last night either. Your knees almost buckle at the feel of him touching you.

The sound of Nick’s door opening instantly pulls the two of you apart. Matt grabs a piece of bacon and seductively puts it in his mouth walking towards cabinets.

“Where are you going,” you say, slightly panicked. You gesture to Matt with your eyes to not leave you alone.

“To set the table,” he says with a cocky shrug and smug look on his face. He grabs a few plates and some silverware.

“Umm… we don’t do that,” you say back.

“Remember, it was your idea,” Matt says, winking at you as he walks towards the dining room. As Matt escapes, Nick and Chris enter the kitchen.

“Goodmorning,” they say together, making their presence known.

“Goodmorning,” you say back, trying to keep composed. You flip some more pancakes.

“How did you sleep?” Chris asks, walking towards the dining room.

“I slept good. How about you?” you reply, you pull the last few pancakes off of the pan, place them on their own plate, and turn off the stove.

“I slept awesome!” Chris says, turning to give you 2 thumbs up before running off to join Matt. Nick stays back to help you carry the food into the dining room. The two of you walk in, set the plates down, and take your seats.

“So…did you guys finish that movie last night?” Nick asks, starting up a conversation.

“We watched like half of it,” you say, spooning some eggs onto your plate.

“Was it good? Like really, really, really good?” Nick asks, putting some bacon in his mouth. Chris chuckles under his breath.

“Yeah,” Matt says nonchalantly.

“Yeah I thought it would be. You know, I heard it was really good. That’s why I agreed to watching it last night,” Nick says back. He added extra emphasis to the word 'heard'. Chris smirks, picking up a pancake with his fork.

“Chris, could you pass me the bacon please,” Matt says, desperately trying to change the subject.

“Yes Matt! I will,” Chris says, sliding the plate to him. Nick and Chris make eye contact and laugh slightly. At this point, you really can’t tell if they know what happened between you and Matt. They were acting a little weird, but they almost always acted odd. Matt was the only one in a relationship and they loved to pick at the two of you for it.

“Thanks,” Matt says, giving Chris an odd look.“Can you hand me the pancakes too?”

“Oh Matt! Yes! I would love to,” he replies, earning a cackle from Nick. He gives Matt the pancakes and everyone resumes eating. Periodically, you catch Nick and Chris giving each other weird glances. Every time they make eye-contact, you can see them trying to hold back a laugh. Nick begins to giggle under his breath, shaking his head. Chris wipes the smile off of his own face and stands from the table.

“I’m going to go get something to drink,” he says, trying to gain composure.

“Could you get something for us too,” Matt says sassily, gesturing to everyone else at the table.

Chris momentarily stops in his tracks.

“Yes Daddy!” Chris moans at the top of his lungs, tilting his head back and screaming into the air.

That’s when it all clicks. This motherfucker is mocking you. Your face instantly turns red as your eyes dart to Matt’s, looking for comfort. Matt can tell that you want out of this situation. Nick erupts with laughter as Chris continues to walk towards the kitchen, never looking back. Matt’s eyes shuffle back and forth, from Nick to Chris.

“Alright. I think we’re going to take this breakfast to bed,” Matt states matter of factly. He grabs your plates and begins to head to his room with you right on his heels. Nick and Chris’s laughter fill the room, getting quieter as you move further away.

"Thanks for the breakfast," you hear Chris chuckle out.

Upon entering his room, Matt sits your plates down on the dresser. He grabs the remote, selects the first movie he can find, and turns the volume all the way up. He locks the door and then sets his attention completely on you. He lifts you into the air and your legs automatically wrap around his torso. The two of you begin to kiss intimately. Matt gently lays you on his bed and removes his shirt, hovering above you.

“What about our food?” you question, out of breath.

“It can wait,” he says, climbing on top of you. He begins to kiss your neck erotically, sending shocks through your body. “I said I was going to have my breakfast in bed.”

[liu-yu-xin]

All of wayv is in china??? I maintain that china is where idol groups go to get disbanded and die but i will give them the benefit of the doubt. For now. Either way i just hope they get some work

[honeyhoshi]

hat trick!

the term 'hat-trick' is used to define when a player achieves the feat of scoring three goals in a single game.

summary: the first half of the championships is going to their opponents and everyone is looking to mingyu to lead the team to victory. as their star player, it’s a tall order, especially when his plate is already full with you.

this a part of the man of the match universe

genre: professional football (soccer) au, porn with a little plot

wordcount: 5,616

pairing: mingyu x afab!reader

warnings: HEAVY DDlg kink, HEAVY d/s themes, both parties are safe, sane, and consenting adults, reader is implied to be significantly smaller than mingyu, huge mingyu, big dick gyu (canon), (acknowledged???) exhibitionism, unprotected sex (pls dont do it, its not worth it), multiple sex scenes, spit kink (bec i wrote it), creampie (also bec i wrote it), mentions of masturbation, size kink go bbrrrr, bulge kink, pussy stretching, plenty dirty talk, mingyu uses soooo many nicknames (pretty, baby, princess, etc.)

author's notes: this is written for my dearest friend @madeforgyu who helped me bring forward!mingyu to life and for making his gf such a joy to write. thank you also to her for inspiring me to come back to tumblr after almost a decade.

Mingyu is pissed. He’s absolutely fucking livid.

This game had to have been fucking cooked. There was no way the ref was making all these shitty calls for him not to be paid off or something. The team had been making all the right moves but the second something seems like a foul, a whistle blows and somehow it's always someone from the Diamonds getting the blame.

Mingyu had come to four attempted goals on target and any other time was deemed offside by the refs. If he sees that fucking checkered flag go up one more time before they call for half time he’s going to really give them a reason for a red card.

Any other day he’d probably be able to brush it off after the half time break. But this isn’t any other day or any other match. It was the last match of the season — it was the Korean FA Cup final.

The 23-24 season was grueling but rewarding for the Diamonds. After the major upset at finishing as runners up in the season prior, the whole squad had come into this season with fire under their asses. The change in coaches was another thing — while their ex-manager, Mr. Cho was a hardass, their tearful promise to give him a win even after his retirement paired with Seungcheol’s no-bullshit coach style took them from 100% to 250% in the space of the off season.

Mingyu’s never been a better football player. Which is why he’s unhappy when the half time whistle does blow and they’re down 0-2.

Both teams shuffle into the tunnel to head to their locker rooms where their managers and coaching staff were waiting. Then Mingyu sees a flurry of pink shuffling through the mess of white and red kits.

“Excuse me, excuse mee, coming through please,” comes a light voice, parting the crowd.

There are a couple of chuckles and greetings coming from his teammates and even a high five and a “hey tiny!” from Hoshi before it finds its way in front of him.

It’s his girlfriend. It’s you.

Your presence at the game is no anomaly. You’re pretty much a permanent fixture, sort of like the 12th man of the team. Except you can’t play football for shit and you’re always somehow wearing the worst shoes for going on the pitch.

Everyone on the Diamonds’ side knows you — from the press, to the coaching staff, even some of the nutritionists. You’ve been with Mingyu forever. You hardly phase anyone around you when you bat your eyes at Mingyu and grab one of his hands in both of yours.

Mingyu tries to harden his glare at you, doing his best to send a look of displeasure at whatever it is you’re trying to pull.

“I’m soooorry,” you start, playfully rocking on the balls of your feet and trying to tiptoe to get closer to him.

Mingyu almost wants to roll his eyes.

The last of the team coaches enter the locker room but before the door closes, Seungcheol peeks out and meets Mingyu’s eyes. Hoshi’s head pops out next to him shortly after.

“I don’t have to tell you anything, I’m sure," Seungcheol starts, “But you’ve got 10 minutes, Gyu.”

“Tiny, I need my forward in tip top shape, alright?” comes Hoshi’s laugh.

Now Mingyu really rolls his eyes.

You can’t help the giggle that bubbles out, “Aye aye captain!”

You don’t have to be told twice when Mingyu drags you into an extra locker room and says “Skirt up, pretty.”

He makes quick work of slamming the door shut, not even bothering to lock the door. But he does flick the lights open. He wants to see. He has to see all of you.

When he turns around he clicks his tongue at you seated on one of the benches. You’re still rolling your underwear down your legs. They’re a completely useless pair. Though he admits most of your underwear is useless, either too frilly, flimsy, just there for decoration. It’s okay. He likes pretty things. No wonder he likes you so much.

“Uh-uh, doubletime princess. No time for the usual. I need to come before stepping back on that fucking pitch.”

Mingyu’s agitation from his sub par showing during the first half is bubbling under his skin. He’s been stiffening under his shorts since he saw you shuffling through the tunnel and the minute you grabbed his hands, the only thing in his head was how badly he needed to stuff you with his cock.

He grimaces at the pout on your lips as you finally untangle that stupid lacey thing from your frilly socks and platform sneakers. Mingyu grabs your wrist and drags you up against the wall that isn’t lined with lockers. He presses your front against the wall and uses his knee to spread your legs apart.

On instinct you stick out your ass, eager already despite him still being fully dressed, wiggling slightly to show him you want this too.

With quick, practiced fingers Mingyu undoes the knot of his bottoms and pushes down his compression shorts low enough to pull his cock out. He breathes a sigh of relief because finally he can flip up your skirt and see just how needy you are.

He has one large hand wrapped around his equally large cock and inspecting the view in front of him. His other hand settles on the roundness of your ass, grasping slightly to spread you open. He eyes your pink puckered hole and allows his gaze to move down to your pussy. He’s pumping himself roughly to get himself to full hardness as he eyes the slick that’s seeping between your lips. You’re almost jealous. That’s your job.

Once he’s satisfied with himself, he lets his cock rest between your cheeks, and he grasps you on both sides to squeeze. You want to cry, almost scared he’ll get off like this, just fucking the tightness of your pressed asscheeks. It’s almost quiet save for his panting and the way your slick cunt is starting to wet his cock.

So you whine loudly, that unimpressed, unsatisfied one that precedes a—

“Daddyyyyyyyy!”

Fuck there it is.

Mingyu grimaces and clicks his tongue again. No use being quiet now. Or ever, really. Everyone knows anyway.

He turns you around quickly, hoisting you up in his arms and moving to wrap your legs around his slender waist. This position has your pussy pressing up against the underside of his cock and the slight relief it gives you makes you nearly sob.

Instead you whine. You whine and start to grind sloppily as the feeling of delirium starts to course through you. It comes naturally when it comes to Mingyu. You’re addicted and so is he.

Even if your bare cunt is already pressed against him and all Mingyu has to do is angle your hips slightly to slip in, he goes the extra mile.

He supports your smaller frame with one hand and uses the other to lift a corner of his jersey to his teeth so he can bite it. He pulls it up high enough to expose his stomach and your mouth waters at the sight.

Mingyu looks good. He always looks good and he knows you like it when he’s on display for you as well. The dips and groves of his stomach, how it's still damp from the sweat from the first half, has you clenching around nothing.

He feels it against his cock and he quickly decides to quit playing around. You two probably have around 6 minutes and not a second to lose. So he flips the front of your skirt up and groans at the sight of you.

You’re soaked and coating his cock as you try to grind against him, a futile attempt to somewhat relieve yourself. 

So Mingyu pulls away slightly to position the head of his cock at your entrance.

“D’you play with yourself at all, sweetheart?” He says, tapping the large head of his cock against your clit.

“Huh?” comes your confused response.

“I asked my dumb baby if she played with this little pussy?” He answers meanly.

You flush. It’s like a routine for you to stay with Mingyu the night before a game, allowing him to let off steam and go into a game day glowing and stress free while you sit on his lap in the team bus full of his cum from your morning fuck.

But the night before the cup finals had you attending a work event at the last minute because of a scheduling issue that had both you and Mingyu pissed off and horny.

You suppose that’s partly to blame for the first half that had even you swearing at the refs from your seat in his private box.

“Just a little—“

He clicks his tongue, “How many fingers d’you use?”

“Just two daddy, a-and I stopped!” you cry almost petulantly.

“Yeah, baby? Why’d you stop?”

“Because it was no good!” You bounce in his hold slightly, biting your lower lip as he continues to tease your entrance and clit. Just the head of his cock was enough to get you this wound up.

He grins. It’s brilliant and handsome and just so fucking mean because he says, “Thats right. Two of my dumb baby’s fingers are nothing on daddy’s cock,” and pushes into you.

Mingyu has always been so big and thick and you have always always been so much smaller than him, his cock always stretching a little painfully when he first slips in. But today, with such little time and even spending the night away from each other, the stretch punches the breath from your lungs.

You squeal in equal parts delight and distress and Mingyu sets a brutal pace, not even letting you settle into the feeling of him inside of you.

But you understand. You’re his good girl so you look at him with big teary eyes, bottom lip in between your teeth and nod dumbly at him. Words fail you whenever he’s inside you but it’s okay. It’s better than okay. 

You two have long established how nothing nothing in this world makes you happier than when he uses you as he wants, when slips into you whenever he wants, and calls you his princess while destroying your insides.

His eyes are transfixed on where the two of you meet and you can’t help but follow his gaze. It’s absolutely lewd how you wrap around his cock, airtight, and how the sloppy noise echoes in the room.

“Look at my little pussy,” he starts, “my perfect little hole. My baby’s little cunt was made for me.”

Your cries are growing needier, louder, and more depraved. At the back of your mind you remember to worry about how tonight's the championship match and that the halls are surely bustling with press, staff, and even the opposing team. But Mingyu is fucking you so deep, so fast, that he’s literally fucking the thoughts out of your head.

You fight to stay with him in this room, in this moment, but before your eyes completely shut close, you feel his hand wrap around your throat.

“Daddy’s running out of time, baby,” he says, “so be a good girl and stay still for daddy, huh?”

You whine and nod as his hips move faster and he cages you up against the wall, your arms coming up to wrap around his head. 

“Words, princess. I need words.”

You want to swear at him and thrash in his arms but you’re feeling too good, too lost in the pain and pleasure. You bite at the collar of his jersey because it's the only thing you can do to quiet the pathetic whimpers, babbling, and indecipherable cries Mingyu’s pulling from you. 

Mingyu presses a kiss to your temple quickly, “My dumb baby,” he coos, “look so pretty when you’re crying on my cock. That’s my pretty baby, daddy’s almost there. Keep being good for me, m’kay?”

He speeds up his fucking, hips pistoning, and the press of his cock pressing against that spot in you that makes you see stars.

Mingyu pulls you into a kiss that’s all spit and teeth and bruising lips. He sucks on your tongue before separating the two of you and looking back down at his cock bullying its way into your pussy. 

It happens before your mind can process it but at the speed of light you feel a wet, hot thwack of his spit landing on your clit harshly and you cry out, unable to keep it in.

“Daaaaddy!” It’s loud and keening and you’re sure everyone on the other side of the wall hears.

But it’s all Mingyu needs and one, two, three, brutal thrusts later, he’s spilling deep into you, fucking you through his orgasm.

Your eyes fly open as he rubs at your clit with his thumb while he pulls out and slaps at your puffy clit before he brings your face close and presses back in for a long, deep kiss.

When he pulls away and meets your eyes there’s a mean glint in them and a shit eating grin that is almost frustrating enough to bring you back to tears.

“See baby, if you’d been good, I’d have made you come.”

“B-but! I was good, daddy! I was so good for you!” He settles you back down on wobbly legs and tucks himself back into his uniform.

You’re looking at him in indignation, tears brimming at eyes, threatening to fall. Mingyu’s eyes soften as he brushes the tears away with large thumbs and tucks your hair behind your ears.

It’s a futile attempt to have you looking presentable but your smudged lip gloss and the mess at the back of your head are enough to sell you both out for your halftime activities.

“Being good means not touching what belongs to daddy when he’s not there.”

All you can do is huff. He’s right.

You’re trying to fix how your jersey (a custom pink version of the Diamonds’ home jersey) is tucked into your skirt when you catch Mingyu picking something up from the floor.

It’s your underwear.

“Gimme!” You pout, trying to reach for it. But all Mingyu has to do is raise it above his head and it’s impossible for your to retrieve the flimsy lace

“I think I’ll keep this one for now,” he starts, “Think of it as a lucky charm.”

He unrolls the flimsy fabric and folds it into a small square, tucking it into his compression shorts and tightening up the drawstring of his uniform.

“If you want to be good for daddy tonight, you’ll keep all my cum inside of you, won’t you?” He says sweetly, talking you through the idea he’s suddenly come up with, “then daddy will win this game and fuck you with my medal on.”

After trying to get both of you presentable again, you slip out of the auxiliary locker room hand in hand just two minutes over Seungcheol’s initial 10 minute deadline.

You greet the team as they all line up again to return to the pitch and smile proudly as Mingyu talks to his teammates about feeling more relaxed and ready to play. You don’t miss the way he lets go of your hand just to wrap an arm around your waist, hand resting just on the curve of your ass as you two pass the players of the opposite team.

“Good luck, daddy. Come back to me a champion, please.” You bat your eyelashes at him and press the most innocent of kisses to his cheek.

The sweet moment is interrupted by an exuberant, “OKAY! LET’S GO!” from Hoshi.

You roll your eyes at him playfully but give in when he asks for a fist bump and says, “Tiny, thank you as always for your invaluable contribution to the Diamonds.”

You head off to where Hoshi’s girlfriend is seated, opting to be surrounded by friends and fans alike, but not before hearing the two teammates’ exchange.

“You ready to show them up, rockstar?” Is Hoshi’s jest.

Mingyu can only laugh and say, “Fuck you.”

And show them up he does. Just 6 minutes back on the pitch and Mingyu reminds everyone why he’s one of South Korea’s most prolific strikers. With an assist from Jeonghan Mingyu is lighting fast as he performs one of his signature moves and sends the ball flying to the top left corner of the goal.

You scream your throat hoarse as you watch him run across the pitch towards a camera, pointing and kissing the diamond crest on his chest.

Not long after that Mingyu nets a freekick from just beyond the penalty box, equalizing the game. With so much at stake and still so many minutes on the clock, you can hardly breathe easily, knowing it could still go either way. And it does. 

At the 80th minute the opposition scores their third goal and you could practically feel the Diamonds’ crowd deflating, fearing a repeat of the previous year.

“They can still equalize, I’m sure of it,” you hear Hoshi’s girlfriend from beside you, “As long as Soonyoung doesn’t fuck up and your boyfriend produces another one of his miracles, we can take this to penalties.”

You groan. You hate penalties, but you know how much this match means to Mingyu and the team.

Despite the possibilities, the game has gone into injury time and the crowd around you already look like they’re ready to pack up but sticking around just in case.

The majority of the players are crowded around the opponents’ goal, desperate feet hoping to score or hoping to defend. At this point some of the opposite side’s players are just trying to kill time to secure their win.

Hoshi is yelling orders from along the Diamonds’ midfield, abandoning his goal with the confidence that his teammates will surely take another goal. 

But time just about stops when the Diamonds are awarded a corner. Jeonghan looks like he’s dragging his feet about taking it, walking away to have someone else take the kick. But in a split second he turns back to kick the ball in a beautiful arch that meets none other than Mingyu’s right foot to take a third goal.

Hat trick.

Penalties are an awful cruel thing for any football fan, you think. Even after over ninety minutes a winner still isn’t decided and it falls down to each team’s five penalty takers and their goalkeepers.

Hoshi’s girlfriend is in hysterics next to you, gripping your hand like a lifeline. Mingyu had been the first to take his penalty, the ball floating almost gracefully and finding itself out of the keeper’s reach in a split second.

The score was at 4-3 with the Diamonds in the lead after Seungkwan’s attempt had found the back of the net neatly. If their opponents miss this, the championships would be theirs.

This all falls down to their captain.

Hoshi has always been so dependable and today is no exception. The very second he deflects that fifth and final attempt, cheers erupted in every direction and the final whistle is blown. 

The Diamonds won the Korean FA Cup.

The players, the coaches, and press flood the pitch and white confetti erupts around you. Before you know it your seatmate has vanished. She’s running across the pitch to jump into Hoshi’s arms, kissing away the tears pouring down his face, the team captain overcome with emotion.

Jealousy flares in your chest and you try to look everywhere for Mingyu. You stand indignantly, looking all over for him when you’re reminded of gravity.

The intensity of the match and the anxiety at its uncertainty had taken your mind away from your mid-match tryst with Mingyu and from the fact that he had come so deeply inside of you that it was only now that you were standing and pacing and you could feel the thick, sticky seed moving inside of you, threatening to drip out of your hole. You didn’t even have any underwear to catch it and sop up the mess, the lace neatly folded and tucked into Mingyu’s own underwear. 

You stamp your foot and a whine pathetically when you feel someone come up behind you. You quickly turn to see that, amidst the chaos, Mingyu had found you.

You’d only been away from each other for an hour but in that hour he had become a champion and that fact alone had changed him. He looked like some Greek hero with how he stood with pride painted on his face and how his handsome smirk screamed winner.

God, you needed to suck his cock. 

Luckily for you, Mingyu had the same idea. With the flurry around the win and the podium and carpets still being set up, the captain, manager, and executives still giving interviews, Mingyu knows everyone will be busy and he has time to whisk you away before anyone will even notice he’s gone.

That’s how you end up in the team’s main locker room, still a bit messy from the half time huddle, kneeling in front of Mingyu’s locker and choking on his cock.

“That’s right, baby. Take it slow so you can take more daddy in your mouth,” is his sweet encouragement before he takes the bottle of champagne next to him and takes a long swig.

You’re transfixed, blinking teary eyes to clear them, just so you don’t have to look away from the sight in front of you.

Mingyu had stripped everything off, feeling like he was overheating from the match he’d just played. He sat like a king, leaning back against his locker, spreading his legs and propping one leg up on the bench. He’d popped open a bottle of champagne and pressed the mouth of the bottle to your lips, watching the alcohol overflow from your mouth and drip down your chin to your neck and down your chest.

He kisses you shortly after, tasting the Moët on your tongue and pushing you down onto your knees.

There’s no need to preface anything because in no time you’re gagging on him. It doesn’t take much to have you drooling all over him, his cock so much bigger than what you should actually have in your mouth.

“You can fuck my throat, daddy, please please please!” You gasp out as he pulls you off of him so you can take in a deep breath.

“I know baby,” he says before taking another swig of that champagne, your eyes following the way his Adam's apple bobs. 

He leans down to bring the bottle to your mouth and says, “tongue out, my filthy girl.”

Your spit is thick and sticky in your mouth and you make a show of it when you follow his orders. He wraps a hand around your throat to steady you as he pours champagne into your mouth again, not caring about how much falls down the side of your mouth and dampens your jersey.

He leans back, pleased with the indulgent mess before him, and grabs at the hair at the crown of your head to pull you back down on his cock.

You’re a dream. You had been so good, so obedient at learning to take his cock over the years, and now he’s sure he’s molded himself into your throat the same way he’s made your pussy perfect for only him.

“My perfect girl’s got the most perfect mouth, huh?” He’s holding you down onto him, keeping your head in place, “The filthiest fucking mouth and its all for dad’s cock.”

The noises are disgusting. With your mouth full you can’t say anything but you’re happy just to listen to him come undone. Your spit and his pre-cum gather at the sides of your mouth but you don’t want to stop until he’s pumping his sticky cum onto your tongue.

You pull off of him to lave your tongue over his balls, sucking on one and then the other before saying, “Daddy, I think I deserve to drink your cum, right?”

Mingyu swears under his breath, somehow still not believing how lucky he got with you, your depraved mind the only one that can match his own.

He downs the rest of the champagne and moves to kiss you, sharing the drink. You gulp down what you can before going back down on him, holding down his hips as the muscles beneath your fingers jerk as he fills your mouth. 

Mingyu comes in thick ropes of sticky hot cum that you almost have trouble swallowing, but daddy trained you to be a good girl, thankful for everything she gets. So you swallow every single drop, proudly showing Mingyu your empty mouth.

“Atta girl.”

You try to be on your best behavior and good for Mingyu for the rest of the evening. You’re the picture-perfect girlfriend watching and cheering proudly as he gets his gold medal and the team cheers in unison once Hoshi lifts the trophy above his head. The pictures are taken and the interviews are given but there’s only so much you can take and by the time Mingyu has you buckled up into his car, you’re feeling unnecessarily bratty.

“Baby,” Mingyu starts. You’re some fifteen minutes away from his house and he’s about to get into it now?

“Mm,” is your petulant response.

“Listen to me,” he warns.

But it almost comes as an instinct to you to retaliate, having the most fun when you two go back and forth like this.

“Don’ wanna.”

From the corner of your eye you see his jaw harden.

“Didn’t daddy fill you up, today?” He says as more of a statement.

“He did.”

“Didn’t daddy feed you his come, princess?”

You start to flush, “He did.”

“And then didn’t daddy say he was going to fuck you with his medal on if he won the championships?”

He’s pulling up to his house now and you almost let out a sigh of relief.

“He did,” you answer.

He parks and turns to you, “Then you are going to get out of this car and head up to our room and you are going to strip yourself naked.”

You’ve been waiting for this. Finally, away from any prying eyes and ears, no matter how accepting, you can finally let loose and have him every way you want him.

“Daddy will park the car and unload the stuff and when I come into the room I better see that messy pussy served up for me.”

There’s buzzing in your ears and you bite your lips.

“Of course, daddy.”

It starts with your good intentions, really.

You had asked him kindly to lay back against the pillows and the headboard promising that you were going to be real good, daddy, I promise! And that you were so proud of him, that he was so yummy on the field and of course he was going to be the winner.

You wanted to reward him, said that daddy deserves to be ridden to have your tits in his face, to be spoiled.

To be fair, it was a valiant effort on your end. Once he’d settled into bed, you squealed and threw yourself over him, chest to chest as you rubbed your bare pussy onto his cock.

You were aching to be stuffed but you know how sloppy and wet he likes your pussy to be. And through his cum from earlier today was smeared all over your cunt and thighs, you knew you could do better for him.

You pressed kisses to his chest while running your hands over the dips and divots, the hardness and softness of his chest and abs and sighed dreamily as you met his eyes through thick lashes, “I love you daddy, I’m so happy for you.”

“I love you too, baby. I’m happy I made you happy,” was his simple response.

You bit your lip at the elation that filled your chest and you pressed a quick kiss to the gold medal resting on his chest. You stood on your knees on either side of his hips and kept one hand on his stomach to steady yourself as you lined his cock with your entrance.

The delicious stretch and resistance was still there as you sank down on him, his own spend mixing with your slick, making the slide delicious.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off how your pussy split open to take all of him. The pace is slow and your whimpers of “Daddy, daddy, daddy” made his head spin.

But while slow and romantic was good, it was always just how your love making started. This was all before your thighs had grown tired and your lower back started to hurt.

Mingyu tried to talk you through it, guide your hips on how to grind just right for the head of his cock to press against that spot inside of you. Even his encouragement of you can do it, pretty, daddy’s tired is futile when you finally cry out.

“But daddyyyyy,” comes the high pitched whine, “I’M TIRED TOO. Don’t you feel bad for your baby?”

And he breaks at that.

He sits up and flips the two of you over without even pulling out and your eyes roll as the movements jostle him inside of you.

The anticipation is reaching its boiling point when lifts one leg and places it over his shoulder and pulls out of you to rest his cock on your sopping cunt.

He loves this. It’s fucking sick, but he loves to see how big he is compared to your little hole. He loves to see the head of his cock aligned with your belly button and how you clench around nothing, already missing him inside you.

Before he decides to push his cock back inside you he grasps himself by the base and rubs harshly at your entrance and clit with the engorged head of his cock. It makes you squeal as the rough stimulation shocks your system.

He had left you hanging during half time, with only just enough time for him to fill you up, and you had been too preoccupied blowing him to rub yourself to completion after the match.

But the blessed feeling of an orgasm is finally bubbling back onto the surface now that Mingyu was focusing on your pleasure.

“You’ll give me this, right, baby?” He says pulling you back to him. He wants you to be present, to know how he’s making your body tick, “Be my good girl and wet my cock, daddy wants this pussy to be dripping when he fucks it.”

You whimper in acknowledgment and he speeds up his ministrations, the stimulation getting to him as well as beads of pre-cum mix with your slick and eventually, the spray of your cum squirting out of you messily. 

Your moan is music to his ears and you cry out as he pushes his cock into you, not giving you even a second of respite.

With both hands free, Mingyu positions both of your legs over his shoulders, your stupid frilly socks tickling his ears. This position is a favorite for the both of you. He loves how deep he can fuck you like this, the head of his cock kissing your cervix. And you love how when you put your hand just under your belly button, you can see and feel how his cock moves inside you.

“Fuck, look at you,” he says all too breathless, “So fucking perfect.” The sweat beading on his face falls on your temples and you want to cry — what a waste not to taste him on your tongue.

“My perfect little cocksleeve, that I made just for me, isn’t that right. Fuck.” He’s losing it and God do you want him to fall apart.

He pulls away slightly and laughs to himself a little when he sees how his medal, still around his neck, is resting on your chest, bouncing slightly as he continues to fuck into you. What a sight. And only his.

What a day it’s been for him to have woken up in this very bed alone and just another football player hoping for a dream to come true. And to end up here now, in the same bed with you calling out to him like a litany of prayers and his champion’s medal sitting between your tits, bite marks on the flesh contrasting prettily against the yellow gold.

He bites his lip and focuses on your bodies and how you can barely get the word ‘daddy’ out coherently, mumbling dadd-da-daddy-dad unintelligibly. He does you a kindness and presses a hand down where your smaller one is, and thrusts hashly, loving the way you clench around him as you finally reach a second peak. The vice grip your pussy has on his cock is enough to push him over the edge as well, spilling another load into you and your eyes flutter shut.

Mingyu doesn’t pull out of you but sets your legs down and massages the insides of your thighs because he knows you’ll complain about them tomorrow.

He slips off his medal and sets it on the bedside table next to your phones.

After arranging your bodies to be more comfortable, he presses soft kisses on your ear and into your hair, chuckling slightly as you mumble in your sleep that it tickles. 

Mingyu can’t help but keep that smile even as he settles down. It feels so good to be a winner.

-`✮´- if you've come this far, thank you and it'd mean the world to get a reblog or to hear your thoughts on my first fic on here!

[thesilmarillionblog]

𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭: 𝟑

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: You and Soldier Boy want to create a family and move on from everything, even the Vought, but you also know that he has to face Homelander one last time to keep his vow to Butcher. However, nothing turns out as you had hoped.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: Heavy angst, hurt, memory loss, Soldier Boy gets hurt, reader gets hurt, language, established relationship, everyone is liar, reader is manipulated, suspense

Word Count: 5206

A/N: English is not my first language.

This is inspired by the song 'Remembrance' by Memoria Futuri.༊

He would make a great son if he didn't mean to be a great father.

That's what he thought when Homelander entered the locked room; his father was locked up. Leaning through the glass, he whispered, "All this time."

In other words, his father did not die. He should have known since, aside from Homelander, his father, Soldier Boy, was the most powerful Supe in the whole world. It seemed impossible for anyone to kill him, and no one could. There were some differences between Homelander and his father, but they differed from the other supes.

Homelander's eyes softened as he peered at his father, who lay peacefully unconscious in the box from the gas he had endured. They should rule the world together as father and son.

And Ryan.

Homelander inhaled deeply as he considered his son. It was undoubtedly another problem. Butcher was the reason behind it all. He was a fucking son-stealing piece of trash. When he had the chance, he should have slaughtered Butcher. There were a lot of opportunities lost. Now that he was most likely the one who killed Vicky, Homelander felt compelled to act because things were undoubtedly getting out of control. 

Homelander opened the box without thinking, and the guardian stared at him in horror. 

Ben quickly moved his arms to remove the handcuffs that were tying him to the bed after getting rid of the gas that was making him sleep like a fucking rat. He didn't waste any time opening his eyes and getting to his feet. This time, he knew he was somewhere else. God only knows how much time has passed since then. 

Ben didn't care that the guardian ran out of the room. At last, he was free once more. 

“Where the fuck am I?” Seeing Homelander in front of him, Ben asked. 

“I-” Homelander tried to speak, but he was surprised that his father had not attacked him right away. He was ready for another fight, in fact. “Dad, I came here to save you. I had no idea you were still alive,” Homelander muttered, yearning for some praise from him. 

Ben's eyes instantly opened as he thought about all that had transpired, and he blinked again. “Where the fuck is Butcher?” he asked, his mind instantly racing with images of you. Ben's final memory of you was of you hitting your head really hard because of Butcher. But before he blew up, he knew your heartbeats were still strong. 

Homelander said, “I don't know. We are searching for him everywhere, but it seems the CIA is working hard, doing their best to hide him and his fucking team.”

Ben remained silent, considering everything and casting a suspicious glance at Homelander. 

“Why the hell have you saved me now?” Ben asked, closely observing Homelander. After all, Ben attempted to murder Homelander, his biological son, as well as his grandchild. If Butcher only didn't interrupt him, he would do it. 

“Of course it's because you're my biological father,” Homelander stated, his gaze softening. He needed Soldier Boy to tell him he was proud of him, even though he hated to admit it. Homelander accomplished many things, but his constant yearning for his family was something else. “It's obvious we couldn't make a good start.”

After helping his father retrieve his suit, Homelander led the way to Vought Tower. Ben remained silent the entire time, although he was suspicious about Homelander. His heart ached as he remembered his times with you as he gazed out the window at the entire city. This time, he would kill Homelander there with his one and only mistake. Taking control of the entire tower wouldn't be difficult. 

Homelander became worried when he noticed his father was silent and deep in thought, so he continued, “We—I'll kill every one of them soon.”

Ben snapped, “No,” and turned to face him. “There is one of them inside the team you should never lay a hand on.”

Confused, Homelander asked, “Who?”

When Ben said your name to him, Homelander simply nodded. He had seen you no more than twice. Even so, you weren't that significant. 

“But why?” 

“Because,” Ben answered in a raised voice. “I have to locate her right away, together with Butcher and the other members of the team. I'm going to kill that son of a bitch, for real this time, by myself.”

“Okay,” Homelander muttered, glad that Soldier Boy had already determined. He didn't even have to make an effort. “But I need something as well.” 

“What the fuck is it?” Ben asked in a severe tone. He was sick and tired of being begged for assistance only to have it turned against him. 

“I and the vice president cleaned your name, so the public will not be hating on you anymore, and all we need is your support and using your power to convince people that our country is safe from now on.”

“And why the fuck would I do that?” Ben moved forward and inquired. He has had enough of dealing with business matters. “Why would I even believe that you're all fucking different than Butcher and you will not deceive me?”

Homelander was clearly startled by his father's lack of trust, and his mouth dropped wide. “I'm..your son and I saved you.” Homelander spoke as if it were the most ordinary thing ever.

Ben inhaled deeply, obviously uninterested in the situation at all, but he didn't want the CIA to play games with him any longer, and the arrangement wasn't worse than Butcher's offer. If not, he would be forced to murder a lot of people very soon. 

“Fine, but keep in mind that even if you find her before me, nothing bad will happen to Y/N. If not, the deal is offer,” Ben stated at the end. “I suppose I'll just have to put up with this nasty shit and forget that I was beating my meat into a cup just for them to create another me; a total disappointment.”

Homelander felt the impact of Ben's remarks hit hard, but he decided to ignore them. It was enough of a start, and there were things to do. He would ultimately beat Butcher and the CIA with Soldier Boy's assistance and reclaim his son. With his family by his side, he was going to transform this nation into a paradise, just as it should be. 

“Frenchie,” Butcher angrily called him. “Will you ever fucking get this thing ready?”

With a frustrated sigh, Frenchie, who was working on Kimiko's ripped and infected leg, turned Butcher and pleaded, “I'm working day and night; give me some rest.”

Kimiko, expressing her support for Frenchie, shot Butcher a glare. 

“Well, we all will take a nice break when Homelander breaks this door with his daddy, Soldier Boy, and lasers our hairy asses one by one, won't we?”

You hurriedly added, “I'm sure he cares and takes this issue seriously as much as you do, Butcher,” attempting to support Frenchie, who was already under a lot of pressure. 

With a muttered, “Fucks sake,” Butcher put his head in his hands. 

You asked, “Are you okay?” Clearly, he was the most stressed person in the room. 

With a feeble smile, he said, “Yeah, sure,” and walked across the lab to a chair. 

You noticed that Frenchie and Kimiko were having a heated discussion when you glanced at them. While working, Frenchie was cautioning Kimiko to stay away from the virus. 

You put your hand on Butcher's shoulder after noticing him deep in thought while he smoked. “Are you really okay?” 

He answered, “Of course I am,” but his smile didn't reach his lips. “It's all going to end soon after all, once Frenchie gets this thing ready.”

You stated firmly, “He's talented and, most importantly, determined. With each other, we'll overcome this. You'll see.”

You cautiously inquired, “What exactly happened with Soldier Boy?” after he nodded to you. 

Butcher turned to face you, his expression conveying annoyance. “Why are you asking this?”

“I thought that it would be best to be informed about changes while I was away. You know, just to catch up. I had long since believed he had already died. Really, I can't believe he's still alive. Everything is just too much.” 

Butcher rubbed his eyes, smoked another cigarette, and said, “Alright. He had been held captive in Russia for decades, but the CIA decided to free him in exchange for defeating Homelander. It appeared that we were out of options for the time being. Clearly, the cunt is powerful.”

“And?”

“It came out that Homelander is his son, and after he eventually betrayed us, father and son have come together again. That's the story.”

You asked with disbelief, “Did he change his idea just because Homelander is his son?”

“Who knows?” However, Butcher remained silent, his gaze fixed on Frenchie.

“But, sweetie, some things are certain. He isn't a good man. He deserves to die, no matter what, because he is just as evil as Homelander. He killed innocent people in New York, then in Herogasm. Those were innocent people. Like Homelander and the other members of the Seven. He is a mentally ill, self-centered bad guy.”

You were surprised to see how serious he was, yet you still managed to respond, “I'll keep that in mind.”

“Y/N,” Butcher called you when he noticed you were confused. “Homelander and Soldier Boy must both die, no matter what. You are aware that it's for the best, right?”

You were taken aback by his questioning and sincerity as well, but you managed to mumble, “Of course I'm aware of that. Whenever I'm needed, I'll contribute what I can. I swear to you on that.”

“If you ever come across him, remember to never believe anything he says, okay? All he is is a dangerous cunt.”

Even though you were perplexed and didn't fully get what he was saying, you nevertheless nodded. "Butcher, I promised you. Since we are a team, I support your desire for Homelander to die. We all want that here. You will see that we will overcome this." 

When Butcher realized you were trying your hardest to stand by him, he gave you another weak smile. He was aware that you would try to kill him there and never forgive him once you learned the truth. But he knew that this was a game he had to play. 

Although it was cruel and unjust to you, Butcher really used your memory loss as a tool to his advantage because Homelander and Soldier Boy had to die, and if he needed to use you to accomplish this, he would use you without blinking an eye. After all, in wartime, nothing was fair.

Butcher did all within his power to mislead you: he erased your existence from the moment you met Soldier Boy, ensured that Kimiko and Frenchie would never discuss your abortion, and persuaded the team to speak with you as though it were their first time meeting.

He didn't plan for Soldier Boy to awaken once more, of course. The worst thing that might have happened did really happen. Butcher, though, had to keep his cool and play his game with you all. He was certain that you didn't feel any form of attachment toward him; therefore, it didn't matter if he told you everything that had transpired months prior. 

But it would still be better if Soldier Boy was unable to find you. 

Butcher rolled his eyes, sensing what was about to happen when Annie gave him a look as he watched you move away from him and hang around with Frenchie and Kimiko. Sometimes Annie was such a pain in the ass. 

“Are you even aware of the seriousness of the issue, Butcher?” Annie asked in a sour tone. 

“You're simply exaggerating. She is quite happy in that sense, even if she can't recall a single fucking thing. Everything's fine.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Annie exclaimed, “I fucking can't believe you. He's fucking going to kill all of us when he finds her and discovers your lies about him.”

Butcher remarked, “He won't find her,” annoyance evident in Annie's voice. “What do you believe will happen even if he does, which is not at all important? Will she recall him suddenly? No fucking way.”

“What happens if she does? She is going to hate each and every one of us, but above all, Soldier Boy will murder us. Butcher, he's fucking free. Are you blind?” Annie attempted to keep calm as she talked, but it was difficult to argue with Butcher without becoming outraged. 

“Stop being a fucking coward; you're just exaggerating the issue, and what if she doesn't act like she does?” 

“What do you mean?” Annie asked, perplexed. 

“I spent hours considering this. We could definitely benefit if she fucking forgets everything. We will just make her believe that they have a background that is obviously unimportant and biased if he speaks with her, and she will choose to assist us in killing Homelander and him.”

“Oh my god, you're insane,” Annie muttered as she stroked her head. “Everything is being calculated, except for Y/N's emotions. It would be even worse if she were to suddenly remember that we would be using her to kill Soldier Boy. She cannot pretend to love him while she is completely clueless and confused.”

“You're absolutely mistaken, sweetie; she has no feelings for him. All they did was fuck, that's all. Even if she doesn't recall anything, that will put us in a strong position. Soldier Boy doesn't give a fuck about her. He's an awfully self-centered jerk.”

“I'm not sure, Butcher. In the previous few months, they were pretty close. He may have feelings for her, and if so, he must already be looking for her everywhere. I hate to admit this, but it's possible.”

“Annie, don't be a fool. Please stop making me laugh, will you? He is the type of man who will never, ever fall in love. Did you witness him brutally murdering Crimson Countess? You fuking did. He had declared that she was his true love. What happened then? Without batting an eye, he fucking slaughtered her. He had only known Y/N for a single year, but he had known Crimson for years. The cunt is not and will never be in love with her. It's a good thing she can't recall anything at all about him.”

Butcher's mention of the Crimson Countess issue gave Annie some relief. He killed his girlfriend as soon as he was released, proving that he was, in fact, an obsessed psychopath. 

“So you're going to turn her into both a hunter and a prey at the same time? If Soldier Boy ever finds her, will you tell her the truth about everything that happened between her and him?” Annie asked while she saw you two laughing with Kimiko. 

“She will know what she needs, nothing more.” Butcher's mind raced with ideas about your abortion and pregnancy. Though it was difficult, he was doing his best to push the bitter moment behind his memory. His only wish was that you would never know this. “You don't tell her anything about anything if she suspects something, alright?” 

“I know, I know,” Annie muttered, becoming irritated at the situation's whole complexity. “But I'm not quite sure, Butcher. She has been kind to everyone for more than a year, but she is naive. I believe we are violating her trust.”

Butcher just responded, “No,”  in a tone that seemed detached. “We're doing our best for her. She and Soldier Boy would never have a life together. Is that something you can think about? It's preferable to help her overcome this than to witness her breakdown due to a false sense of reality. She needs a real life. She's better off without him, or else she'll die the same fate as Crimson Countess. She holds no importance for him.”

“Yeah,” Annie murmured. “I guess you're right.”

There was nothing at all about you, even if Ben waited for hours to gather information about you, even if it was something else. You seemed to be missing. 

“Will you fucking put in more effort?” He looked at the woman staring at the computer in front of her, attempting to find something with shaky hands, and he added angrily, “Why is this fucking company paying you for?”

“I apologize, sir,” she muttered. She appeared as though she would burst into tears in a second. “We're all trying our hardest to locate or find a thing about her, but nothing at all has been found. Not even one thing at all. She seems to be nonexistent.”

Ben completely lost patience after she finished speaking, and as he glared at her with hate and disgust, he grabbed one of the room's tables and threw it away, causing terrified witnesses to gasp in terror. 

“Please, sir,” the woman pleaded, asking to speak again. “Just give me some more time.”

“I'll kill every one of you before I fire your useless fucking cunts. If you fucking don't find her, Butcher, or anyone else I told you to find, you're all fired. I swear to you that. Understood?”

Her hands were fisted in her skirt as she took a swallow and watched Soldier Boy depart the room before he broke down more computers in a fit of rage. “Yes, sir,” she responded in a shaking voice. 

Ben turned to face his surroundings and peered out the window, looking in on the entire city, which was a flurry of lights and sounds. Since he was free, his supe hearing was much more sensitive, and he tried his hardest to concentrate on every sound in the area in an attempt to desperately detect a trace of you, but there was nothing. 

Ben's heart hurt with grief and agony, recalling your last conversation the night before the catastrophe. It was getting unbearable how much he had missed you. He had no idea that one day he would be sitting in the Vought chair and you would disappear. God knows where you were. 

Despite his assurances to you to avoid Vought and all associated matters, he ultimately resumed his business with Vought. He was left with no other option. He would play their games, though, if it meant protecting you and himself. Ben was merely unsure about your possible reaction to everything, though. 

Ben was confident that you had already seen the media speech he gave earlier. When he found you, he would explain his actions, even if you were presumably disappointed to see him collaborating with Homelander and Vought. He didn't want a life without you. He just wanted to live a life with you, far from everything else, but he realized that as long as he remained as Soldier Boy—the world's toughest superhero—that wouldn't be possible.

Ben gave himself a sour smile as he thought back to your final day together. He had really missed your cheerful and lighthearted attitude toward him. However, even after he made it clear to the media that he would be in the Vought Tower, where were you, and why did you still refuse to approach him? 

“Dad?” Ben scowled as Homelander muttered. 

“For god's sake, stop fucking calling me that.” Ben remarked angrily, “You sound like a pathetic little child. Fuck, it's so fucking weird and makes me feel like a fossil.”

Homelander responded, “All right, fine,” while glaring at him with hurt pride. “You need to talk to some of the politicians who back us and build a little goodwill in order to start off well. Though the Vice President and I have made it abundantly clear that you will always have our backing and our support for you, too, certain voices still persist because of an incident that happened months ago in New York. Fixing the issue is better, and it would be even better if you went alone, you know. I am actually expected at the meeting, but I have things to do.”

“Christ, I fucking hate this already,” Ben murmured in an angry tone. It felt like decades ago when he was always in communication with the politicians. He was going to become sick. “And what the hell will you be doing?”

“It appears that a few executives and individuals with significant knowledge about the company are absent. I must locate them and take care of the situation.” Homelander sighed, as if there was just too much to get done. He was just thinking about A-Train's betrayal. He needed to locate him as quickly as possible.

“Okay, this is the best I could do so far. I think it's strong, but I'm not sure if it's strong enough to kill Homelander,” Frenchie remarked, showing the virus in a little tube in his hands as everyone stared at him nervously. “We have to give it a shot.”

With a dubious glance at Frenchie, Butcher seized the tube and examined the virus closely. “How much do you think it's strong?”

“I cannot say something without trying.”

With a furious sigh, Butcher began to consider his options. He understood that going forward, he would need to take extra caution. Everybody was proceeding carefully. 

MM remarked, “We have to try this, Butcher,” and you remained silent, observing Butcher's expression. 

At last, Butcher remarked, “Alright, ladies. As far as my knowledge, tonight Ninja Cunt and Octupus Fucker are hosting a party, and of course, politicians will be present. Soldier Boy and Homelander will not be there. This indicates that we are getting close to killing Homelander if we are able to eliminate Flying Narcoleptic Cunt. Then we will strengthen it so that it can kill Soldier Boy and Homelander too.”

“It seems like a suicide attempt to me,” MM remarked, but the way he looked was devoid of fear. 

You remarked, “Where there are politicians, it means it will be well protected,” as you waited for Butcher to go into detail about his strategy. 

“Damn, it's easy to go inside, sweetheart. Finishing the job is what matters most,” Butcher remarked, grinning and glancing between his fingers like a hunter does. “Their asses cannot get away from the CIA.”

“What do you think?” When Butcher saw everyone's bewildered expressions fixed on the virus-filled tube, he asked. 

Annie sighed and added, “It's risky. Still, we must give this a try. We didn't have a lot of options left. Now, we just have one chance.”

Butcher smiled broadly at you all and put the tube in his pocket once you all nodded. “Then let's fucking kill some super-whores.”

You had to fight for nearly an hour until Butcher and the others agreed that you could do this assignment on your own since you needed to start somewhere. Even though you understood they were only worried for you, it was an important and dangerous decision from the very beginning. That was already known to you when Butcher accepted you into his team. It wasn't different at all from the first time you abducted Translucent; you knew the risks.

When you informed them that there would be neither Homelander nor Soldier Boy and that you were the finest shooter, they all at last consented to let you complete the job. It would be incredibly simple because you have never missed a shot before. But just in case something goes wrong—which you prayed it wouldn't—Kimiko will also be coming with you.

“Okay, now that you two listen to me. They're all going to show up, so your plan is to conceal and shoot Ninja Cunt when the opportunity presents itself. You only get one chance, and I have no doubt that you won't miss it. From here, all of us will be listening to you.” As you straightened your clothes and inhaled deeply, Butcher gave you a shoulder pat. “Are you still sure you want to do that?”

You quickly replied, “Of course,” and inserted the tube into your gun. “Kimiko will accompany me in any case. With her, I know I'm safe.”

Kimiko smiled broadly and gave you a thumbs up. 

With Kimiko's assistance, you were able to ascend the house and reach a spot from where you could view the guests well. The third floor was the best place to avoid drawing attention to yourself. You also needed to know that you needed to keep your heart rate under control and be perfectly silent. 

You spoke with Kimiko over the phone when you noticed that Black Noir and The Deep had joined the party and that politicians had shown up at the residence. 

“We need to be quick.”

Kimiko gestured for you to point toward Black Noir's back, but before you could do so, you noticed Soldier Boy coming inside. 

Your eyes grew wide, and you looked at Kimiko while covering your mouth to avoid making a sound. She was also afraid. You knew that you had to shoot Noir in order to see the virus's full force, even though Soldier Boy's entrance was unexpected. You weren't entirely sure about that, though, so you could even be able to shoot Soldier Boy. 

You stayed as far away as you could and observed everyone conversing from the third floor while aiming for Noir. Your heart was beginning to race, and your hands were drenched in sweat. You prayed that no one would see you. You weren't built for this, maybe. Fuck.

Feeling uncertain about whether to shoot Noir or Soldier Boy, you continued to aim for Noir in accordance with the plan. It would have been a waste of time if it hadn't killed Soldier Boy.

You muttered, “Oh, god,” and then cursed yourself for speaking. At least everyone appeared to be quite busy, and there were much too many servants.

You sighed and put the gun into your jacket as Noir slipped out of sight. It was completely out of the blue for Soldier Boy to show up, yet you felt bad about ruining the mission. You turned to talk to Kimiko, but she was nowhere to be seen. Oh no.

What the hell was happening?

Ben gulped the moment he heard your small sound. Assuming he wasn't daydreaming or anything, he recognized your voice. He fucking knew it was you, even though he didn't know how. Perhaps you were looking for him and at last managed to get back to him. 

Ben broke off his conversation with the dull politician and hurried to the third floor. The house had numerous rooms, but he concentrated on your heartbeat and breathing, which helped him find the correct door with ease. He was becoming overly excited about the possibility of you two getting back together. 

His eyes instantly softened as he noticed you standing in front of the window, appearing perplexed. Ben closed the door behind him and came toward you without thinking, taking quick steps. He took you in his large, powerful arms and began to kiss you frantically. 

“Fucking finally,” he whispered between his kisses. “It's so hard to find you, baby,” he said, taking you in his arms and swiftly setting you down on the table. It wasn't until he saw your face that he understood how much he had been missing you. 

When Soldier Boy continued kissing you, you were so taken aback and terrified that you were unable to move to defend yourself. When he kept saying how much he missed you, you felt perplexed, and your head began to hurt so badly. But you didn't do anything to avoid upsetting him or anything. 

Even if you didn't smell like anybody else, the last time he smelled your neck and hair, your scent was delicate and tender. But now, it was rather bitter and sad. Ben was confused, but he reasoned that it had to be because you had been apart for a while and were deeply missing one another. It was not a significant matter. 

Fearing that he may harm you or something, you kissed him back. Then, as his hands were going to come into contact with your gun, you kissed him once more, even harder, pressing your hands on the armor on his chest. He moaned into your mouth, and you were close to crying because you had no idea what was going on, but all you could do was play his game, whatever it was. He had hands all over your body. 

Ben pulled back, smiling as he looked at your swollen, red lips and kissed your forehead after hearing your heartbeat race. You didn't tell him that you missed him too, so his pride was a little damaged. 

“It's been so long. Didn't you miss me?” Ben asked softly.

You had to get back to Butcher as quickly as you could. Why would Kimiko even abandon you alone in this place? 

You nodded at Soldier Boy as your mind whirled with ideas. Perhaps Butcher could explain what was happening to you, but first you had to protect yourself from Soldier Boy. 

Leaning his chin to meet your eyes, he said, “Hey, youre trembling, baby. You are safe with me here, so you don't need to be afraid.”

You said, “I don't know,” unsure of what to say. “I need to go,” you murmured, unsure of his reaction. 

You freeze, seeing the darkness in his gaze. 

“Where?” he asked harshly.

Ben felt confused and irritated to see you acting so distant and afraid of him. It was possible that anything occurred during his absence or that the reason you were acting this way was due to Vought and other ongoing issues. 

As soon as you remembered what had transpired between him and Butcher, you closed your mouth and peered around the room. When you got the chance, you should have walked out of the house. 

He imprisoned you on the table and said, “To Butcher and others?” in an annoyed tone, leaving you with nowhere to go. “No fucking way.” 

You tried your luck again and whispered, “I don't want to stay here.”

Ben sighed and made an effort to ignore your stubbornness about going back to Butcher and the others while trying to contain his rage. He had hoped he was more important to you, but he knew you cared deeply about them. 

“Baby,” Ben whispered, trying not to frighten you away while he gently touched your cheek and met your tearful eyes. “I know things didn't go as we hoped, but we can talk it out, don't you think?”

You tried to move free of his grip, but he didn't even move. 

“I refuse to let you go. Not when you came to me like that,” he remarked. “You're coming with me.”

The mission failed, and you were in the hands of a monster.

Next Chapter

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A/N: Comments are very much appreciated. I’d like to know what you think. I hope it is a good chapter 👀

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[http-mianhae]

AMORTENTIA ; seungcheol

view the whole series here!

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

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

PAIRING ᝰ choi seungcheol x fem!reader

WORD COUNT ᝰ 17.1k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He never disappointed.

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh,” you nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

Tiredness was something you guys were never used to.

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

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

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

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

He just left it as so.

You were starting to doubt if anything would even happen.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

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

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

You regretted taking that class.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It went eerily quiet.

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

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

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

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

Gossip, gossip, gossip.

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

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

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

Oh, you resented it already.

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

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

Why was he acting so nice for?

And why were you smiling back at him?

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

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

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

“Hi, Seungcheol.” you greeted back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You whispered the last part.

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

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

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

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

You nodded briskly.

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

“Okay,” you said.

“Sweet.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You placed your forehead on the wall, giving up.

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

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

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

“Joshuaaaa!”

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

You hated how reliable Joshua was about this whole thing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A love potion?”

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

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

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

You wouldn’t be surprised if you did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, no next Friday?” you asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chan found something though.

“Vernon.”

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

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

He really did grow up.

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

“Hey, you got homework?” you asked.

“Yes.”

“DADA?”

“Yes.”

“Need any help?”

“No.”

“Want us to leave?”

“No.”

“Like studying here?”

“Yes.”

“One plus one?”

“Maybe—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, how come you’re here?”

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

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

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

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

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

Chan straightened up quickly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.” you dismissed nervously. “I’m—”

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

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

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

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

Seungcheol looked at you, making brief eye contact.

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

And he grinned at you.

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

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

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

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

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

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

So you did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Look at it! Ewww!” Seungcheol continued.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He doesn’t.

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

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

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

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

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

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

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

“I think so. Y/N’s still sleeping.”

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

The room went still for a second.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He had a girlfriend at the time too.

Messy.

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

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

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

Your best friend.

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

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

“You just woke up?” he asked.

“Could you move?”

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

“I just came to return your quill─”

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

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

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Petition to expel Isabelle?”

“I’d sign it, no doubt.”

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

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

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

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

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

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

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

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

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

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

Though, it did hurt.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You stood there, powerless to meet his eyes.

“I―”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, Cheol. I’m not.”

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

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

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

Right now, you just processed the events again.

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

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

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

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

But today, she kept staring.

Were you slipping?

“What?” you asked her.

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

“What?” you continued to question.

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

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Seungcheol being sick?

“Really? What happened?”

“Georgie, look! She’s worried!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you guys doing here?”

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

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

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

“The Seungcheol rumour…” you said.

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

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

“Okay, but let’s go somewhere.”

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

“Hmm, Hogsmeade?” you suggested.

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

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

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

“Don’t screw!”

“Protection is important!”

“I can ask if you need it.”

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

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

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

“Thanks, bestie!” you called on him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Seungcheol,” you called.

“Come in.”

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

“No, no, it’s okay.” you excused.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I already did homework.”

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

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

You quipped an eyebrow, impressed.

“Why?” he asked.

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

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

“Yeah, just kinda impressed.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you know the answer?”

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

BANG!

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

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

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

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

“How are you feeling…about the rumours?”

Out of all questions in the world―

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

Seungcheol stared at you.

“That I was cute―”

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

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

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

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

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

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

Seungcheol took that seriously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey.” you said, patting his shoulder.

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

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

“Are you uncomfortable with it?”

“No!” you replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cornershop? Sound suspicious.” Seungcheol said.

“You sound scared, Seungcheol,” you smirked.

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

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

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

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

“Your friend going to come along?”

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

“Chan.”

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

“Ah, I see. So it’s us.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Split? Are you sure?” you questioned.

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

You paid your five galleons while he paid his.

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

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

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

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey!” Seunghceol and you snapped.

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

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

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

“Where is he?”

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

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

In, out, in, out.

“Weasley?!” Seungcheol screamed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

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

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

Joshua sniggered.

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

“Ah, nothing. It’s just cute.”

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

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

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

“Hey, Seungcheol.”

“Hi.”

“Doing work?”

“For once.”

“Your handwriting has significantly improved―”

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

“Did something happen, Josh?”

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

Seungcheol nodded and chuckled. “Same.”

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

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

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

“Professor, I had a question.”

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

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

“No.” he interrupted coldly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come on.” Seungcheol said quietly.

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

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

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

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

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

So you had another plan in your mind.

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

“It’s so cute.”

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

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

“Me?”

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

“Aw, but―”

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

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

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

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

And then, your final ingredient.

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

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

“There’s literally no point.”

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

“Y-Yeah.”

Did he just admit that he likes you?

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

“So I have no idea what to do…” you explained to Chan in the empty common room. The fire was ablaze behind you, shadowing your figure as you walked back and forth in front of Chan. It had to be hours near dinner by now. Students were going in and out of the dorms but you didn’t pay mind to that as you discussed seriously with the Chosen One. You had been assisting him with his homework all night and he asked if you needed help with something.

This was the only thing.

You told him about the Snape situation, hoping he would magically fix something. There was no point, he was just a fourth year, what was he going to do about it? Especially when Snape hated him out of everyone.

“Hm, this is hard,” he muttered, looking down to his lap.

“It is.” You settled on the ground in front of him, crossing your legs. Chan was in deep thought, more than you expected.

“I need to sneak in there without being seen, somehow.”

“Do you think we all could come and distract Pince and you two could go into the restricted section?” he asked you.

“Too risky,” you answered, shaking your head. You had thought of that before but there was nothing that would come out of it, except points removed. But you desperately needed the book so you were at the edge of asking if you could do it with your group of friends.

The risk was too much though.

Chan gasped dramatically as he rose up from his seat. You widened your eyes at his sudden movements and stood up too.

“What?”

“Borrow my invisibility cloak.”

You grinned so quick, excited that there was a way to get your hands on the book. And relieved that the assignment would end well.

“Lee Chan! You are a genius!”

You cupped his face and pressed a kiss on his forehead lovingly. “Stay here, I’m going to go tell him about it!”

By him, you had meant Seungcheol. Practically jumping for joy and leaving back a flustered Chan, you ran towards the exit of the Gryffindor dorms. It felt like a happy ending. You were going to get the book, seal the project shut and not have to worry about it again.

You were on fire as you ran down the stairs of the palace, impatiently, of course. Seungcheol had to be nearly done with practice by now as it was nearly dinnertime. So it would be a perfect opportunity to tell him.

You rushed by a bunch of Hufflepuffs, seeing Seungkwan on the way. He wanted to stop you and say hi but you were too busy running off to find the captain.

“She’s always running around.” you caught him saying to one of his thousand group of friends.

Exiting the palace, you hiked up your school robes to get down the hill in order to reach the Quidditch field. It wasn’t every day that you had ran this fast, consequently, you felt your legs tire and knew that the next day, your whole body would be shaken with pain.

Just as you reached down the steep, the familiar sight of your house team was beginning to make their way upwards to the castle. A smile painted on your lips as you continued to run down, the pitch-black night served fresh with the scent of nature coming from the forest adjacent.

“Seungcheol!” you called, waving a hand up.

The team snapped their head up, all similarly shocked to see you.

“Hey, Y/N!” he called back. He walked ahead of his team that just as quickly went back to talking to one another but kept eyes on their captain here and there. Of course they would―it was their captain you were speaking to.

“What’s up?”

“Okay, okay! So you know how we need to go into the restricted section of the library and stuff?” you asked, voice full of excitement as you two walked up the stairs.

“Yeah…?”

“So Chan and I were talking about and trying to find an idea when he stands up excitedly and was like―”

Suddenly, Seungcheol grabbed your bicep pulling you closer to his heated body. The smell of dirt was rubbed in him, you could tell but you showed no reaction to it as his eyes had caught yours. You paused in all movements, feeling the throb in your chest you knew a little too well for your liking.

The night had matched his hair colour, making his face as bright as the Moon. The chattering of his team had distracted you from gazing into each other’s eyes in a split second.

“You nearly tripped over, you goose.” he said quietly.

You followed his line of sight to find a rock that you would in fact slip over if you weren’t careful with yourself.

“Ah, I see. Um…”

“Continue. What were you saying?”

“Oh, yes! So, Chan offered to lend me his invisibility cloak―”

“No way! The kid has an invisibility cloak?!”

“He does!” you exclaimed. “We used it last year when we―not important! But we can sneak in, unless you’re too scared to sneak in.”

He gasped. “I am not. And I’m not going to let you do this on your own either.”

“You sound like my father.” you sighed, looking away from his eyes. “Anyways, when do you want to do it?”

“On Friday? I have nothing on then.”

You thought about it and then nodded yourself, proud that things were getting themselves done. “Sounds like a plan.”

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

“Yeah and this dumbass snitched on me!” Seungkwan yelled, jumping to his feet.

“The teacher had to know.” Vernon dismissed quietly.

“You don’t tell on your friends Chew Hansol”

“It’s Chwe not Chew.” he corrected, also standing up.

“I don’t care! Now because of you, I got fifty points from my house and the seniors won’t even look my way!” Seungkwan yelled.

Both looked offended at each other as they stared with fire practically embedded in their eyes. You were the oldest here, yet you didn’t do anything about it. For once, you sat there, knees pressed to your chest as you nervously rocked on the library’s armchair.

The clock was in your view and there was ten minutes until the library would close. Five minutes until Seungcheol would meet up with you.

“Can you both shut the fuck up?” Mingyu asked. And him being only a year older didn’t help that they wouldn’t listen to him. They dragged him into the fight.

“Shut the fuck up, Kim Mingyu. You are the reason why girls don’t even look my way!” Seungkwan yelled. “They only look at me to compliment my fat ass!”

You had no idea what happened to Seungkwan neither did you care that he was over-excited. He was seriously scary when he was mad but no one took it seriously. Normally, you would and you would stop the fight but you stayed quiet.

“Stop. She’s literally shaking because her crush is coming here in five minutes and you guys are fighting.” Chan said.

“Exactly.” Mingyu replied.

You closed your eyes and placed your face into your knees. You did not need to reminded of it again. Heart squeezing in your chest, you released your position to stand up, stressing out more.

The boys had stopped at hearing the news that Seungcheol was going to come here any minute now. No one knew about this except Mingyu and Chan because you didn’t have time to tell Vernon and Seungkwan. Who cares? Now they know.

“Why is he coming?” Vernon questioned, turning his attention to you.

“They have to get a book from the restricted section and they’re using my invisibility cloak because they haven’t gotten a pass.” Chan whispered, noting that Pince was a few rows away.

Seungkwan and Vernon nodded.

“Under the same cloak, so close to me―fuckkkkk.” you muttered, hitting Mingyu on the shoulder out of habit. “Why did you let me do it?”

“BI wasn’t even there. You did this to yourself.” Mingyu answered you.

“Ugh, fuck you guys.”

“Don’t worry, babe. You look great. He’s for sure going to fall for you.” Seungkwan promised.

You felt tired, eyes drooping.

“He’s already called you cute and everyone thinks that he likes you back. So don’t even worry about it.” Chan comforted, taking your hand from your side.

“This wouldn’t be happening without you, Chan. Thanks.” you smiled softly, despite the burden burrowed on your shoulders.

The door of the library opened. Your stomach clutched itself as Seungcheol walked in, a hoodie and tracksuits. He had circle glasses like Chan on and his wand in his hand. He noticed you off the bat since you were sitting near the exit.

“Hey.” he greeted, walking up to you guys. They all go quiet and he greeted them too. “Hey…Y/N, you ready?”

You nodded hesitantly.

“You look so nervous about this, don’t even worry about it. I’ve done this a few times before.” Seungcheol said.

“Uh-huh, with other girls―ow!” you said out of the blue and Mingyu stepped on your feet to stop you from ruining your chances.

“What did you say?”

“I said, boys you should go.”

You looked expectantly at your group of friends. They stood up, exchanging 'good nights’ and 'bye’’s to you and Seungcheol. It was like there was something else besides gravity holding you so still to the ground. Unbelievably still as your friends started heading out.

Quickly but surely, you grabbed the invisibility cloak out of your bag.

“Come here.”

He moved over to your side, bodies barely inches away from you.

“Tell her we all left.” you mouthed to Mingyu.

He nodded and smiled. You smiled back, waving and then diverting your attention to Seungcheol.

“Here.” Seungcheol took the cloak off of you, shaking it down to its full length and then draped the cloak over the two of you. The satin fabric reached the heads off both of you, reaching barely to your feet.

“Move closer, Y/N.” he whispered.

You inched a step closer to Seungcheol, doing anything but looking at him. You looked at Mingyu instead as he told Pince that you all had cleared out of the library already. She nodded and bid them a 'goodbye’ and when she had closed the library door and scuffled into her office, your heart had dropped to your abdomen.

That’s what you hated more. The lights were all on and the woman was still around, cleaning up her stuff, preparing to lock the library.

“Should we go now―”

You slapped your hand to his mouth, stopping his words that were far too loud. Not even having proper time to register what you did, you were cringing on the inside that Pince may have heard it. There was no one else in the library, it was so silent that you could hear a pin drop and Seungcheol had to speak right then.

Pince’s door opened and she peered around suspiciously. She shrugged after that, her features relaxing. But instead of going back into her office, she walked out of her office and was walking towards the light switch which she turned off.

“Lumos.” she said, casting light on her wand. And with that, she walked back into her office, closing the door behind her.

Now that was so much stress under thirty seconds. You felt yourself knot up in ways that you couldn’t comprehend what was happening. Seungcheol was right next to you under the silky material, you needed to get a book from the restricted section, Pince was in her office and now, it was pitch black in the library.

There was barely light coming from the windows.

“Lumos.” you whispered, as you whipped out your wind.

A light appeared at the tip of your wand and you started walking towards the back of the library. Seungcheol walked right behind you, keeping completely silent like you wanted.

“The door is right there.” you whispered, appearing at the entrance of the restricted section.

“How do we get in?”

You smirked at him and pulled out a key.

“Pince might’ve lost a key today.”

“You’re trouble.” he chuckled.

The creaking of a door was heard and you widened your eyes at Seungcheol.

“Your trouble is going to get us in trouble, Y/N.” he whispered.

You turned around to the door.

“Is someone in here?” you heard Pince’s voice boom. Furrowing your eyebrows, you tightly fit the key in and twisted the lock open. Her footsteps were loud but they were going towards the other side of the library. You breathed out sharply and managed to get the lock open.

A small relief swarmed through you as you pushed open the cage-like door gently. Seungcheol followed you in, closing the door slowly and locking it.

“You have the key?” he questioned.

The atmosphere was thick and filling up quick with the frustration from Pince. She was still yelling, not giving up in finding her keys. There must’ve been a lot of students who snuck in to stay back if she was this frustrated.

“Yeah. Stay guard for me.”

“Got you.” Seungcheol got out of the invisibility cloak and stood right next to the door, seeping through every once in a few seconds. It was going far better than you expected, only if she hadn’t realised her keys were gone. You imagined all kinds of trouble that would happen when it came with working with Seungcheol.

You jumped up onto the wide wooden ledge where there was a large bookshelf filling the wall. It had to be here somewhere. Using your wand, you scanned the book binds to figure out the names of the author.

Daphne Willows was the author’s name.

“Have you found it?” he whispered.

“No.” You jumped off gently from the ledge as there were only surnames of the first of the alphabets on that side. Jumping onto the other wall of books, you frantically searched. There was no way that the book was already borrowed, you needed that.

“Come on, Y/N.” he urged. “She’s getting closer.”

“Ssh,” you whispered, looking over the books. Your heart was racing as you slid down the ledge. You were close.

“Walter, West, Weston, Wilbur, William.” you whispered, fingers closing over the bookbinds gently.

“Y/N―”

Everything, Moonstone ― Daphne Willows.

“Are you in the restricted section?!”

You froze in your position, the voice far too close for your liking. What was worse was the fact that Seungcheol could be completely seen but you weren’t. He hid right next to the entrance, back pressed against the wall and it was as if he was camaflouged because of his sweatpants.

“I am so sick of students sneaking in here. Alohamora!” You hated that you didn’t know the unlocking spell worked on the restricted section. That would’ve been your biggest save. Your heart dropped. But the book was right there. So with all the bravery you had, you risked a flash of your hand as you swiped the book out. Pince hadn’t seen it.

Sweat was on your forehead, your feelings a massive rollercoaster between stress and relief from this woman. She walked in and all you could worry as you stood firm against the bookshelf was that Seungcheol was right there, pressed on the wall, hoping he wouldn’t be seen.

She was going to turn around any second to see him.

You breathed out silently, warm air coming straight back on your face. You had to do this for the both of you, you dragged him into this.

You slid to the end of the ledge, where he was standing, remaining calm. Bending down to his height, you threw the remainder of the cloak onto him.

“What do we do?” he mouthed.

“Listen. You’re going to turn around, piggyback me and we’re going to run the fuck out of here.” you mouthed back. Only half of the cloak was on him, but for it to fully cloaked on him and you, you had to get on him. If you jumped down, you would make some sort of noise.

A small smile was on his lips. He was calm for this, so it was confirmed that he really did do this before. You weren’t going to doubt it anymore.

Seungcheol turned around.

“Invisibility cloak!” Pince yelled.

“Quick!” he shouted at you.

You quickly stuffed the book into your bag and then turned back around to wrap your arms around his neck, jumping to wrap your legs around his waist. As soon as you did, Seungcheol darted through the exit, his legs working quicker than you’ve seen him fly in the air. You held your arms tight, your lit wand in front for him to find the exit.

An angry shouting Pince was running after you and her voice had reached a crack.

A small chuckle left his lips.

“Don’t laugh!” you whisper-yelled.

“It’s funny.” he answered.

“It is not―well…”

You laughed a little, lifting the cloak a little of the ground so he could see. Seungcheol’s hands had travelled to hold your thighs firmly against his sides as he ran. You worked efficiently together.

“Don’t waste your energy.” you reminded him.

“Charm the door for me, I think it’s locked.” he answered you.

“Alohohmara.” you whispered as the door came into view. Just like that, Seungcheold pushed the heavy door open with a kick, fitting through the hallway. You could just hear Pince’s screaming as he continued to run for his life and you were glad for a second that you were paired with someone that was an athlete.

Seungcheol ran through the hallway, turning a right and finally stopping. You jumped off, laughing as the invisibility cloak came off the two of you. He turned around, laughing. You leaned against the window, catching your breath from being with Seungcheol.

“StudeNts in tHe lIbrARy!” you mimicked, making Seungcheol double over for a second. His laughing was loud naturally so you had to put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“God, why did she sound like that?” he asked, moving closer to lean against the wall next to you.

Both of you had sweat shining against your faces, but that didn’t stop the night’s humour. Pince genuinely looked like a joke to you. Seungcheol lulled his head upwards before turning next to you, you were slowly calming down.

You turned your head to him too, a smile resting easy on your face.

“You know it’s fun working with you.” you giggled, looking away when you remembered a sad truth. A smile lingered on your face. “Sad it’s going to end soon.”

It was quiet for a second as you examined the classroom window right in front of you. Thanks to the shimmering light of the night behind you, you could see the reflection of you and Seungcheol. He was next to you, close, shoulders almost touching.

“It doesn’t have to end.”

You stilled, the smile dropped. You fidgeted with your wrists as you whipped your head back at him. He was smiling softly at you.

“What?” you asked.

“I said it doesn’t have to end.” Seungcheol moved closer to your face.

And for a second, all your previous memories had gone. The hallway was so loud with your heart yet so silent. The Moon was reflected in his eyes, but you were larger in his eyes. You could see it, he was so close.

“Are you confessing to me?”

“What if I am? You don’t have to be the only one in love…we can be in love with each other.” He didn’t let you speak, closing his eyes as he moved in. It was more of a command made by your body to shut your eyes. You pressed your lips against his, sealing the gap.

All the pressure melted off as the sense of his plump lips were finally felt. You were itching for this moment, events in your dreams were fleshed out into the reality.

Seungcheol smiled through the kiss, bringing you out of the thorough consideration of what was a dream and reality. The reality was so much better to live in, you concluded as he turned so that he could press you against the cold window of the palace, quite a different feeling from your breaths tangled in an intimate dance with each other.

“Go out with me.”

[ BONUS ]

“Congratulations,” Snape said, passing out two pieces of paper on it. “It was very well detailed and the potion was good too.”

You gasped and looked at the paper. Seungcheol smiled at you, his hand perched on the table and his face leaning against his palm.

“What did we get?”

“Ninety-eight per cent!” you shrieked, pushing the paper in his face.

He laughed and hugged you. “It was worth it!”

“It was, oh my God, I’m gonna cry―”

Seungcheol chuckled and put his hand on your lap. “I’m glad. Because of you, my grades are going up. How about we go to Three Broomsticks today?”

“A date?”

“Yeah.”

“Yes! I need a break.” you sighed.

“Ah, it’s so cute.” Joshua sighed from the other side of you.

You both turned your attention to him to see him smiling dreamily at the two of you. “You guys are so adorable.”

“Joshua.” you sighed, putting your hand on his head.

“Not as cute as Vernon as Seungkwan though.” he dismissed.

The fact that that statement didn’t even break your heart proved that even Vernon and Seungkwan were even cuter. The sight of Vernon grasping his boyfriend’s ass so publicly still hadn’t left your eyes. And you knew that Seungcheol was thinking about it too from the way he shut his eyes for a second.

“I told him not to do it,” he said.

“I know, me too. But, it’d be nice if we call them to come with us.” you suggested.

“Double date at Three Broomsticks tonight it is.”

“Ughhhh! I need a girlfriend!” Joshua whined.

[alphabetboyluvr]

HUSH | MYG - TWO

pairing: rockstar!yoongi x female reader | mutual disdain - lovers (but also strangers - lovers? kinda?)

premise: in which you work for your brothers band by day and accidentally anonymously sext his bandmate on the regular by night! whoops !!

wc: 10k

for more details, pls see the master list (x)

note from holly: if you've read hush over on wattpad, then you've already seen this! sorry!! but this is everything that was on wattpad--the next upload will be 100% fresh hehe

warnings: alcohol, foul language, creepy men in bars, sexting (minimal!! very brief!), yoongi is both an asshole and a good guy, oc and yoongi are dumb!! and argumentative!! we learn a teeny tiny bit more lore for the night that never was!!

the app (x) | the band (x) | part one (x)

minors dni!!!

GOLDEN CLOSET STUDIO Big Hit Ent, Yongsan-gu

"Back again so soon?" Jungkook grins when you traipse into his studio the next morning. 

Slumping down onto the sofa with a groan, you get comfortable like it's a second home to you. Only just gone midday, you're exhausted. You'll tell anyone who asks that you went out for a morning run, but you'll be lying through your teeth.

See, what made you tired may have given flushed cheeks, but sadly no cardio was involved. Just some pixels. Words. Another goddamn video call of a bedroom you know so damn well but have never stepped foot within. From his belly button down, you'd recognise your Damocles boys in a heartbeat. Wonder if you'd be able to tell if you saw him in the wild, fully clothed. 

You doubt it.

No, what's made you so tired isn't the things that get you up in the morning, but rather the things that keep you up all night.

Or just 'thing'.

A singular.

You're not sure you want to classify him as a person, because currently he's just pixels on a screen - but the images those pixels so often make? The dirty words that form in negative spaces just for you to see?

Yeah. You think that he's too good to be true. Can't be a real man.

"Meeting," you mumble into the cushion of the chair. "You know how many logistics are involved in taking you guys on tour? It's mad."

"Logistics?" He snorts, knowing your job has nothing to do with that side of the business.

"I'm shadowing," you reply. "Jinyu sweet-talked someone she knows in that department. Following one of the planners around for the week."

"Really tryna work your way up, huh?" Jungkook asks, before quietly musing, "Hope Jinyu'll sweet-talk me some time."

He's not wrong. About working your way up, that is. Jinyu will never sweet-talk him.

Big Hit is a great stepping stone - an industry outlier, built from the ground up - but you don't want to be in your brother's shadow for too long. 

You fear it'll look like you're complacent; as if you want an easy life that you don't have to work hard for. Get some experience, get a good reference, and get out; that's the plan. Maybe work somewhere overseas, away from the confines of your family name.

You don't entertain Jungkook's musings, instead opting to shuffle a little further into his sofa. It's leather and still smells brand new - not because it is, but because Jungkook is meticulous in his cleaning regimes. Will probably wipe it down after you leave. Is perhaps the neatest rockstar you've ever known - not that you know all that many. 

And that's exactly your issue; even if you want to get out of Seokjin's shadow, you've no idea where to turn to. Bright light saturates everything else. Here, you're hidden. Safe. Comfortable.

Well, comfortable except for one particular thorn in your side.

"Get your song sorted with Yoongi last night?" You ask, genuinely curious about it. You're also incredibly nosey, and Yoongi is a dick. What you'd like to hear is that he's annoyed and frustrated, because that's how he makes you feel. 

It's selfish to think that way. The album cycle is well and truly underway, and the boys are cramming every spare moment into perfecting it. You aren't too aware of the process, you just know that Yoongi speaks to you even less now that the stress is mounting.

They're made for the stage. Would spend all day every day performing, if it was sustainable. Don't enjoy the downtime - but you think it's because the slowness of it all interferes with their live fast, die young bullshit.

Jungkook shakes his head. "It's missing something. Can't figure out what. We're gonna leave it until after the Europe dates. Hopefully will have found some inspiration over there."

You accept his answer without a response. Know that any advice you could give would be redundant. You don't know the first thing about music production, and think it would be a waste of energy to float ideas for a song you've not even heard.

"Think Yoongi needs to rest," Jungkook muses a little mindlessly. "Was here till stupid o'clock last night."

You mumble a response, and Jungkook takes it as an indication to continue.

"Last email he sent was at like, what? Three in the morning? How his brain could've still been working, I've no idea."

"He's a night owl," you hum, as if it's a new discovery. "Works better that way. It's like you work best after a good sleep. He works best a little sleep-deprived."

"Yeah but how?!"

"I dunno. Brain science. Ask Yoongi. He probably knows. Psychology n shit."

Jungkook just rolls his eyes. He won't be asking Yoongi.

Just like he also won't be asking Yoongi if he wants to join you all for drinks later that evening. 

That job? Yeah, that's up to you.

Neither you, Jimin, nor Jungkook wanna ask Yoongi, mainly because you all know he'll just say 'no.' What's the point?

A fierce battle of rock-paper-scissors had been fought earlier that evening, and you'd been the poor sod declared as the loser.

Already half a bottle down, they're drinking in Jungkook's studio (even if Hoseok strictly forbode it the last time they got legless at work (as if his orders have ever stopped them from doing anything they wanted)) when you finally meet them again. 

They're getting a headstart on the evening's festivities.

It's nothing special. Just a chance for them all to hang out properly after the Seoul shows.

They rarely ever 'hang out', 'cause work often feels like that anyway. It's only when they take a break that they realise how much they enjoy each other's company. A few days rest from one another is always welcome - but exceed three days, and they start to get withdrawal symptoms.

"Ready to go?" You ask, but are met with curt shakes of their heads.

Jimin passes you the bottle of beer he's been nursing on. As you take a swig, he reminds you, "You've not asked Yoongi yet."

Lips pressed to the rim of the bottle, you roll your eyes. Have half a mind to backwash in retaliation, but you don't fancy bickering this early on in the night.

Shaking your head, you swallow down the froth. "He'll say no."

"Buuuuut," Jungkook sings, as if he thinks he can serenade you into asking Yoongi. "What if he says yes?"

"Well, one of you can ask!" You whine. Yoongi's studio is the last place you want to go to - especially after the messages he sent you last night, warning you about your relationship with Jungkook. "Give him your doe eyes, Kook. It'll work."

A game of rock, paper, scissors is legally binding, though. Jungkook tells you so. Says if you don't go and ask Yoongi, he'll be forced to take you to court.

"I've got Big Hit lawyers," he reminds you.

"Is this a threat?!"

"Yep. Now go ask Yoongi!"

You argue a little longer. Jimin takes two shots during that time. Jungkook interpretive dances whenever you make a compelling statement as to why you shouldn't be the one asking. You frown whenever he does the robot.

And so, mainly to get away from any more of Jungkook's bizarre hip-gyrations, you traipse down to the end of the corridor, where Yoongi's so-called Genius Lab resides.

The wait at his door is awkward. You question yourself, what you'll say, how you should stand. First impressions are everything, and if he's greeted with shitty energy, he'll give it back in return. You know him well enough to know this for a fact.

After a lifetime of waiting (27 seconds, to be exact), there's a mechanical whir of the lock coming undone.

"Hey," you offer a smile as you're greeted with his typical face of thunder. "Been sent to retrieve you. We're going out tonight. All of us."

He knows the plans. Is in the group chat. Ignored the messages for a reason.

His stare is a little frosty but not unkind. Just uninterested. "Can't."

"Can't or won't?"

"Both?"

You might be deluding yourself, but you think he smiles slightly when he says that.

"Ah, but you can and you will go to the ball, Cinders," you joke, giving him a small curtsy. "All work no play makes Yoongi a dull boy."

You're joking, but you believe it. He's been miserable the last few months. Keeps himself hauled up in his studio when they're not on the road, and avoids social interaction like the plague. It maddens you. How is he gonna write songs about life and the importance of living one, if he won't let himself do the same?

He's hard to read as he sighs, and pinches the bridge of his nose. Shakes his head, then opens his door a little wider. Encourages you into his space.

A candle burns on his desk, faintly vanilla in its scent, making it feel far cosier than actually is. The room is sullen; dark greys and little else. In fact, it surprises you he's gone for such a pretty cream candle. LED lights that are hidden in the walls glow a deep blue, and it's no wonder he's so miserable. There's no passion in his little pit. No life. Just him, some screens, and the whir of computer fans.

"Will you give something a listen?" He asks, quite clearly seeing you as a last resort - but when you hit rock bottom, the only direction you can go in is up. He knows you're not musical, not like Jin, but perhaps he needs the ear of a consumer, not a creator. "Been wracking my brain trying to think of what this needs. Have listened to it so many times that nothing sounds right anymore. I just- Could you?" He pauses. Looks quite uncomfortable when he adds, "Please?"

You assume the file up on the central screen is the song he's been working on with Jungkook, so you oblige. Kick your shoes off and leave them by the mat. It's been a while since you've been given the luxury of access to the Genius Lab. You used to know the code.

Things with Yoongi used to be different, though.

Not much has changed within his four dark walls since then. He's gained a new painted canvas in the corner of the room, stacked behind the existing ones. It's deep navy blue. Sort of like him, you think. The blue continues. Illuminates his work area. No wonder he never sleeps. The mood lighting is cold. Alert. Is bound to fuck with his brain.

There are more speakers than you can fathom, and switchboards you can't even begin to understand. The programs that Yoongi's running on his computers are familiar, though. You've seen them enough times to get a rough idea of the composition. Can see tabs labelled for Jin's vocals.

Yoongi turns his chair as the door clicks shut, automatic lock whirring into place. There was a time when that sound would have excited you. Not for any lewd, scandalous reason - just for the fact there used to be a time, many moons ago, when you thought Min Yoongi was the hottest man to have ever graced the earth.

And can you blame yourself?

His midnight hair gracefully frames his face, perfectly waved, dark eyes stark against his pale complexion. His skin is dewy, cheeks a little puffy from his lack of sleep and the fact all he has in his system is an iced americano and blue Powerade - yet still, his features are sharp. A white shirt hangs off his broad shoulders, dainty bracelets sitting on his pretty wrists.

Every bit the heartthrob, he's only gotten better with age - but you've grown up, too. Are wiser now. Understand that devastatingly handsome men will always inevitably devastate you, too.

It's for that reason Min Yoongi doesn't bother you in the same ways that he used to. That, and the night that never was.

As you said, devastatingly handsome men will only ever devastate you, too. He's proven that point already.

He points to his chair. "Sit."

The way he's so demanding with his tone annoys you. You shake your head. Choose to stand. "It's cool. Just play the song."

You don't mean to be so sharp. So curt. You're just thinking about how unbearable he's been recently - especially last night. He'd left you on read. Obviously wasn't happy with your response, not that you care.

"Please don't be difficult," he says softly. "Just sit so you can listen properly."

Why your stature could possibly impact your ears and their ability to listen, you'll never know - but you don't argue. As much as Yoongi's contempt for you these days annoys you, you don't want to make it any worse than it already is.

The leather of his chair is warm from his perch. Kind of nice how despite his cool demeanour, he's always a little toasty. He brings the heat of Daegu with him wherever he goes.

"I'm all ears," you tell him, and watch as he presses down on the play button.

"It's not the full song," he says over the melody of an upbeat track. "You'll know the bit I mean though. It's like, not bad, but-"

"Yoongi, shush," you smile, making sure you catch his eye as you do so. Don't want him to think you're snapping. You just wanna hear the sections he's uncertain about in context with the rest of the song.

Quiet as the track begins to echo out, there's an uncharacteristically quaint piano faintly guiding the track. You know he plays, but it's rare for it to be a focal part of the songs he creates.

You understand immediately which section Yoongi's having trouble with - not because it sounds bad, just because the drop before the final chorus doesn't hit quite right. It builds and builds but the arrival at the final chorus is underwhelming.

"Rewind it a bit," you say, wanting to hear it again. Confirm that it's the right part.

Yoongi does as you ask, leaning over you slightly, and says, "Somethings off, right?"

Nodding, you listen for a third time. "Take away the guitar," you say.

He does. It's better, but still not right.

"Maybe you've overcomplicated it?" you muse, thinking that he needs to strip it back entirely, but not wanting to offend him.

"Hmm," he hums. "You think?"

He mutes a few more layers on the track. Plays it again. It's getting there.

"Better, right?" you ask.

He nods as he stands up straight, listening to it over again. Frowns. "Still not quite there."

"I think it might benefit from some distance," you suggest. "Come out with us tonight. Get your mind off this track. Might even get some inspiration."

Shaking his head, he watches as you stand and head towards the door. He's not been out with you since the night that never was. Doesn't enjoy the prospect of risking it all after a couple of drinks inevitably turns into a couple of bottles again - of which he knows it will. If you and Jimin are together, it will be messy. Just how it goes. Throw Jungkook and Tae into the mix? Disaster waiting to happen.

"Look," you sigh. "I know it's not really your thing - but the rest of the boys are game. They all want you there. Just think about it, okay?"

He purses his lips together. Smiles, and turns to face his computer screen once more. "Thanks for your help."

And just like that, you're dismissed. Considering the way he'd messaged you about Jungkook the day before, it went pretty well, you think. Try not to dwell on the fact he couldn't be less interested even if he tried.

It's funny, 'cause as Yoongi stews in his chair, rocking ever so gently, he sighs. Shakes his head. Grumbles to himself quietly: "'they all want you there'... but do you want me there?"

The boys aren't so disappointed when you return with no Yoongi behind you. They all knew what his answer would be, and only sent you so they didn't have to deal with his rejection.

"Took your time," Jimin notes.

You shrug. Deadpan. "Yeah, sorry, got distracted. Too busy shagging him."

"Really?!"

"No, of course not," you laugh, as if it's the funniest suggestion in the world. You sort of think it is. "Nah, he just wouldn't be convinced."

And so it comes as a surprise to everyone when Yoongi shows up at Jimin's place a couple of hours later with a bottle of whisky in hand.

"Shut the fuck up," is all he says as he walks into an absolute commotion, practically everyone in the room elated by his decision to join in. He hides his smile poorly, occasionally letting his teeth show despite his protests.

From the sofa, you catch his eye. Nod. He bunches up his face a little. Nods back - but is quickly distracted by Jimin holding up a clear shot glass filled with fuck knows what. You, too, find yourself distracted by chatter with the rest of the boys and a couple of the girls from the artist liaison team.

In the corner of the room, your phone is plugged into a charger. It's been there since you arrived. You've no need to check it - but you can never leave it too long.

You smile, butterflies kissing your tummy and making their way through your body when you eventually check it.

D4m0cl3s: got a work thing tonight, so probably won't be able to message much gonna be thinkin' about u tho don't miss me too much, clemmie x

The smile is hard to hide. You blame it on the alcohol.

Kind of like how Yoongi smiles half an hour later when he checks his own phone.

Cl3m3ntin3: been a busy bee today, sorry :( all work, no play? :( it'll make you dull, damocles boy x

But then he watches you as you laugh with Jungkook about something trivial. Reads over his messages again. Shakes his head.

Remembers you trying to convince him to join for the evening. How you'd called him Cinders. Told him that all work and no play made him dull.

His heart thuds in his chest. He swallows harshly. Pours a whisky. Swallows that, too.

Breathes a sigh of relief as he taps through a message - 'it's a play thing for work. promise i'll behave x' - and watches your phone after it's marked as 'delivered' in his chat feed.

Your phone is screen-up on the kitchen counter, just within his line of vision. It doesn't light up. Doesn't vibrate. Receives no message.

"Thank fuck," he mumbles, the sinking feeling in his chest lifting as he grabs a fresh whisky.

He quickly walks away from the scene of a crime that never was. Sort of like the night that never was. Is so pleased, in fact, that he's happy to sit beside you on the sofa as Jungkook sets up a drinking game with Jin.

Silly, really, how a few drinks seem to make him forget the concept of 'do not disturb' mode.

"Hey," you smile and he comes to sit down. "Glad you made it."

"Me too," he nods, lips thin, chin dimpling as a shy smile graces his face. He's a little whisky tipsy. Doesn't feel the need to keep such a strict distance from you, now.

"To a good night," you raise your glass to him, and he reciprocates. Clinks them together.

"To a good night."

STAIRWAY BAR Itaewon-ro, Yongsan-Gu

♪ // You First (Re: Remi Wolf)- Paramore

"You're never gonna be this young and this hot again," Jimin slurs after a few too many lemon drops. It's his third time making this point, because it's the third time you've shooed away a guy trying to make a move on you.

They've all been perfectly fine. Nice enough guys, you're sure, but you aren't interested in random hookups. The night really isn't about that. All you want to do is let your hair down with the boys you've known for most of your life.

As Jimin whines about the fact no one is ready to move onto a club yet, bored of the bar, part of you considers the novel idea that one of the men in your rejection pile could have been your Damocles boy. A funny thing to think about, really. He did say he was busy tonight. Said it was for work, but everyone knows how rowdy work dinners can get after the boss leaves.

He could be here. Could have his tail between his legs. Could be looking at you right now, without a clue.

The reality of that wouldn't please you, for it would mean he's out there searching for other women.

While he'd be well within his right to, you selfishly find that that you don't want him to. In fact, all you wanna do is send him a message. Let him know you're thinking of him. That you wish you were at home right now, alone in your sheets with nothing but an internet connection and that damn app to keep you company.

You're with friends, though. Can't open the app without fear of endless ridicule - and not to mention the fact your brother is with you. Not worth it.

As you come to join them, a fresh drink in your hand, you're easily distracted. Are brought back to reality by your favourite people. Neon lights on the ceiling, and relics of time spent in the bar pinned to the walls. Photobooth pictures, foreign currency. Life is embedded into the seams of this place, and it's reassuring, in a way. Makes your dependency on your Damocles boy a lot less intense. You can forget him. Live life. Neglect to check your phone.

"Objection!" Jungkook chimes, following you and Jimin to the corner booth of the bar where the rest of your friends sit. "Older women are, like, so hot. So damn hot. Damn." And then he's thinking to himself. Brows furrowed, pouty lips whistling out a hearty sigh as he shakes his head. Thinks about Jinyu. A couple of the older women at the record company. About Jimin's mother. Laughs. Nods. "Yeah, older women are where it's at."

Both of you look at him with an air of confusion, and yet neither of you question it.

"What did I miss?" Jin beams when he rejoins you, as a member of the bar staff follows him with a bottle of Ciroc resting in an ice bucket. Another staff member will soon bring you cans of drink to use as mixers, but you know damn well these boys will be shotting it down straight.

The bottle won't be on the house, but you know Jin will have charged it back to the company. Will get a bollocking from Hoseok the next time he's in the office. Doesn't care, cause he knows the band makes the record company more money than anyone else on the roster at the moment. The way he sees it, it's their money anyway.

"Jungkook's just declared his love for older ladies," Taehyung deadpans from the sofa opposite yours. "Nothing new."

"Better older than younger," Jin asserts, playfully pushing against your forehead as he walks past you and back to his seat.

As much as you're your own person, you're still his little sister, and the rest of his unruly group of friends will do well to remember that.

Jungkook snorts. Throws a smirk in your direction. "I can make exceptions."

"And I can get away with murder, Kook," Jin assures him - and he's probably right. As much as they like to play into the rock and roll lifestyle, they've got power. Fame. Something that hides them just as much as it projects them. "Don't even think about it."

There's laughter and chatter amongst everyone at such a declaration, but you can't help but wonder if a certain pair of eyes glanced your way upon hearing that.

It's not like Yoongi doesn't know Jin harbours such feelings. Told you the exact same thing, once: that Jin'd murder Jungkook if anything ever happened between the pair of you.

But you also remember what came next.

Even if it's never been spoken about since, you know that remembers, too. The way he refused to reply to your last text is testament to it.

See, he's been avoiding you since long before you got your little job with the company. Would turn down plans if you were in attendance. Declined invites to dinner, and bailed on drinks. Once you started working in such close proximity, it was harder to keep his distance, and so he built up walls.

They're steep, and they're topped with barbed wire. Impenetrable, or so it would seem.

Climbing has never been a strong point of yours, and scaling walls doesn't feel like a pastime you'd enjoy very much, so Yoongi's safe distance from you is kept. He's feline, in that way; how he'll stalk up trees and sit in amongst the branches, peering down at you. Out of reach, holding all the cards.

Flicking your eyes across to him, you find him embroiled in conversation with Namjoon. He's laughing, which admittedly does make you smile. It's been so long since you've been afforded the luxury of witnessing such a thing.

But you're torn from your thoughts by a sudden, sharp tug on your wrist, and don't even realise Jimin is dragging you out of your seat until you're already stumbling behind him. With a shrill yelp and soft giggle, you let him pull you to the stairs that lead up from the basement bar to the earthly realm above.

"C'mon," Jimin calls behind himself, as if you have any choice in the matter. He's got a death grip on you. You're coming along whether you like it or not. "The rest of them are being boring. I wanna dance."

"Maybe I was enjoying being boring!" You argue just for the sake of it, tapping at your pockets to make sure you've still got your phone with you. Not for any particular reason. Just to be safe. Totally not because you fear losing your only contact with your virtual lover. Nothing like that at all.

"Tough," Jimin asserts, not caring where you both end up just as long as there is a dancefloor and a dark corner.

It isn't for any sinister reason, but just because he isn't looking to be the life and soul of the party. His face isn't recognised in the same way that the other boys are, but it doesn't matter. He attracts attention regardless. Goes with the territory of having a face like his. Irresistible to men and women alike. You're yet to meet anyone who doesn't think he's the most beautiful man alive - though Jin certainly does take issue with such a title being awarded to anyone else but him.

But just like Jin, there's a magnetism about Jimin. Moths to a flame, the rest of the boys follow suit and head up towards the street. The entire area code is a cluster of bars and hole-in-the-wall food joints. It's made for this time of the night, when the clouds are shielding the eyes of the moon from all sorts of sin, just a few stray stars guiding the way.

Light pollution bleeds upwards and out. Even if you know the stars are there, you can't see them - and it's not like you get the chance to check either way, for Jimin's already pulling you down the stairs to another basement bar.

This one is larger - two stories. Quieter on the first floor, it's the second level where he wants to be.

A planner in both professional and personal life, even though he seems erratic and all out of order, Jimin has everything under control. Knows the managers of most (if not all) of the bars on this street. Called a favour in this afternoon for one of the downstairs booths, just adjacent to the dancefloor, to be roped off & reserved. Knew that some of the boys would, in his mind, be 'boring', but still wanted everyone together. It's the best of both worlds. He can dance, and they can talk, or whatever they wanna do.

♪ // Desert Eagle - Silica Gel

Min Yoongi doesn't dance. He drinks. He observes. He watches the debauchery unfold from a safe distance, much like he does with you. Sometimes - not always - he thinks. Ponders. Wonders if maybe he's wasting his time by not indulging in the same way other people do. If he's missing out. Considers perhaps his friends are right to revel in such mindless frivolities.

He doesn't debate his choices often, but as he gets comfortable in this new place, he can't help it. Thinks word must have gotten out about their planned attendance, 'cause he notices far more eyes on them than normal. Far more women vying for their attention. Men, too. Whether it be sex or status, their intrigue is always fuelled by something.

The rest of the boys revel in it.

Yoongi doesn't care for it - but there's a reputation to uphold. A brand image that being spotted in clubs and getting up to no good only helps. Seals them as the real deal. Gets them out of the bracket of 'posers' or manufactured, not that it really fuckin' matters.

There are two girls to each of them. Supply and demand. There aren't enough of The Scouts to go around, but people will share. Will take all they can get. Sharp eyeliner, pretty hair, the girls all have their wits about them, and it's potentially the worst part of it all - they're making the conscious, informed choice to lower themselves to a standard well beneath their worth.

The club stinks of sticky liquor and smoke, but beneath the veil they're all wearing the same perfume. Whatever's currently being marketed as 'irresistible' to men. Was vanilla a few years ago. Yoongi is certain it's something muskier now, but isn't sure what. Makes no difference to him.

There's only one perfume he knows he really likes, and has trained himself to despise it by association.

It's a shame that he hasn't trained himself to stop looking in your direction whenever he thinks of you. Is part of the reason he doesn't like drinking around you. Makes such stupid mistakes. His malevolent mask fails to hide him. The facade slips.

Tongue resting in the corner of his mouth, he doesn't realise he's staring. Eyes dark as they watch you with Jimin, Yoongi wonders if you've always had that tattoo just above your elbow. It's small, and dainty. Hard to make out from where he is, but when your arms are in the air, he's fixated on it. Thinks it must be new.

But then your arms drop to rest on Jimin's shoulders, and he's reminded of what you look like when you're all hot and bothered. Reminded of that night. The one that never was. Haunted by the rivulet of sweat that had trickled down your skin in a sauna that neither of you had any business being inside; just you and him in a silent descent into sin, and the smirk on your lips as his eyes had followed the droplet down your body.

His attention is yanked from you when an ice cube lands in his lap. Glacing across to the direction it came from as he pushes it to the floor, Yoongi scowls at Jungkook. "The fuck was that for?"

"Remember the rules," Jungkook smirks. "Look, but don't touch."

"Wasn't fuckin' looking," Yoongi sneers, completely ignorant of the women vying for his attention. "Was just thinking Jimin needs to to sober up. Man's a state. And unlike you, I wouldn't touch her if humanity depended on it."

"I'm a man of the people," Jungkook teases. "If repopulating the earth was my duty, I'd do it. Can't believe you wouldn't."

"She's got where she is today through sheer nepotism and audacity alone," Yoongi counters. "Doesn't have the kinda genes you'd wanna repopulate the earth with."

"Foul," Taehyung laughs. He's the only one of the boys without women hanging off him. Is stern and authoritative in his rejection of their advances; not yet married but wears a ring around his finger to let them know he's deadly serious. Landed himself in hot water a few months back after photos of him talking to a girl outside a bar - no matter how innocently - circulated online. A bad angle and misrepresentation of events had almost decimated the one thing he cares about more than the band: his relationship. Refuses to ever let it happen again. "Absolutely foul, Yoongi. You know you don't mean that."

"He just needs to get laid," Jungkook chimes in. "Has been celibate for so long he's forgotten how good sex is. Used to be a time he'd fuck anything willing with a pulse-"

It's not untrue. He was reckless in his youth - but aren't we all?

"Yeah, and then I grew up, Kook," Yoongi says with little to no emotion, getting to his feet. Taps his pocket to check for his phone, and then taps the other for his wallet. All there. "Should try it."

When Yoongi looks back up to the crowd, you're gone. He rolls his eyes. Shakes his head. Is almost mentally berating you, as if you've done something wrong - but you haven't, and he damn well knows it.

Perhaps that's the most frustrating part of it all: everything falls back on him. The awkwardness. The cold shoulders. The night that never was. If he would have just made more sensible choices back then, things could be easier now.

It's not that things are hard, as such - just that they aren't how they used to be. Rose-tinted glasses, and all that.

Over by the bar, there's a haze around you: clouded judgement, misted intentions.

The smallest things put a smile on your face, thanks to the alcohol in your veins. Could be the song that's already been played three times coming on yet again. Could be witnessing some random guy get pied by every single girl he approaches. Could be the way your vodka orange takes like juice. Anything and everything feels light. Airy. Breezy.

"What's so funny?" Some guy asks, leaning in a little closer to you - and just like that, your mood is soured. You're not here to make friends, but rather spend time with your pre-existing ones, and judging by the look on his face, he's hoping for a little more than friendship.

"Oh, nothing," you smile politely, crossing your arms over your chest as you angle your body away from his. Hope that he'll get the message.

He does. Just doesn't like it very much.

"No need to be a bitch," he sneers under his breath just loud enough for you to hear.

Normally, you'd leave it. Let him have his little tantrum. Be a big baby.

But you were in such a good mood, and you're annoyed that he's ruined it.

Wanna ruin his, too.

Snapping back to face him, you're about to launch into a tirade, but you come face-to-face with a chest that looks far too good in a simple T-shirt and find yourself faltering, instead.

Yoongi looks down at you, eyes dark, scowl ever-present. Says nothing. Just nods. You think he's asking if you're okay - so you nod back. Won't get into a debate over the fact you were perfectly fine, and have no issue asserting your boundaries with strangers.

Shoulders broad, the guy who had been bothering you is entirely eclipsed by Yoongi.

Glancing across to the bar staff, Yoongi nods. "Hibiki." Glances down at you. Checks the colour of your glass. It's obscured by the bar lights, but he knows it isn't dark enough to be coke, and remembers your order from before things got complicated. Figures some things haven't changed. Looks back towards the server. "Vodka Orange." Passes over his card. Says nothing to you. Just keeps his eyes on yours.

There's a subtle blush dusting his cheeks. The heat, you think. It's unnoticeable for the most part, but sometimes the lights hit him just right, and you're reminded of how warm he can be. How inviting.

He's always been impressive. Taller in sheer presence than he is in stature. Even back in high school, his nature was domineering. Respected. Lips gently parted, you're unable to move. Suddenly, nothing is funny anymore. It's heavy. Thick. Suffocating. You're deaf to the bass of the music that thumps through your body. Ignorant of the people moving around you.

But then Yoongi's being offered his card back, and Jimin bounds on into you like a lost puppy finally finding its owner.

"For me?!" Jimin exclaims as the drinks are slid across the bar, passing the vodka orange to you and picking up Yoongi's whisky for himself.

Shaking yourself from the shackles of Yoongi's stare, you look down. Realign your mind. Glance back over and nod a silent thank you - but then you turn and leave the drink by the bar. Head for the bathrooms. Refuse to look back, so utterly perplexed by what on earth just happened.

In a frank, factual recount of the events, Yoongi just stood beside you and ordered a drink.

In your hysterical, deluded mind, Yoongi just stood beside you and opened the skies; let a flood of water torrent down. Drowned everyone in the process save for you - except you're the one gasping now as you stare yourself out in the bathroom mirror.

Phone still on don't disturb, you pull it from your pocket and check just in case he's thinking of you.

Not Yoongi, no. You push him out of your mind. Think of your Damocles boy. He's the one you wished had joined you at the bar. The one you've been yearning for all night.

And sure enough, he has been thinking of you, too.

D4m0cl3s: there are some weirdos out and about tonight, clem keep yourself safe for me, okay?

It's strange, how guilt needlessly creeps in so silently that you don't even realise it's there until an invisible hand is over your mouth. You're suffocating again, or so it would seem. Drowning, maybe. Perhaps Yoongi wasn't saving you at all; he was dragging you down instead.

You wish you were at home. Wish you weren't so drunk. Wish you could think straight. Wish your balance was a little better - but it's not, and as you try and think of a response that goes beyond 'i miss you' or a 'you should be here', you stumble a little. Lose your footing. Grab onto the sink to stop yourself from falling over entirely, only to send your phone crashing to the floor.

"Fuck," you curse, scrambling down to get it, only to be greeted with a fracture splintering right over the top of your front camera. Pulling up the app, it's very quickly clear that the camera absolutely ruined - but for the most part, your screen is okay. "Fuck."

You think it's a sign: go home.

Even if you're drunk, and you're in the business to make some bad decisions, you know that your Damocles boy is right. There are some weirdos about tonight, and as fucked up as it all seems, 'safe' feels a lot like a message thread with a man you've never met.

Instead of replying to him, you open up your thread with Jimin. Let him know you're going home. Make your way up the stairs and out of the bar without looking back. It's rare for you to cry when you drink, but it kind of feels like you will now, and for no good reason. Just had a little too much, that's all.

The light around fades from the invasive red of the club into the murky blue hues of the streets.

And yet, there's a lovely little red flag waiting by the top of the stairs, unaware of your decision to head home, too.

"You leaving already?" You chirp in surprise upon realising who it is.

The sound of your voice, and the fact it's addressing him, seems to take Yoongi by surprise when he turns to face you.

"I, uh," he pauses. Looks down. Seems to be a little flustered. You wonder what's going inside that head of his, but when his eyes meet yours again, you decide you're better off not knowing. "Can't be home too late. I'm sorta seeing someone. Gotta get back for them."

"Oh," you say quietly.

I'm seeing someone.

"Yeah."

It's not like it matters, it's just that you never expected to hear him say those words. He's married to his music. Always has been. Spends his nights in the studio, not sleeping next to someone else.

Or perhaps he doesn't anymore. Just goes to show how little you know of his life these days.

"That's nice," you chirp, swallowing down your surprise. "Yeah. That's really nice, actually. I'm pleased for you."

In a way, it makes sense. Perhaps his strangeness lately has been less to do with you and more to do with himself and the fact he genuinely doesn't care about the past anymore. Thoughts of the night that never was are genuinely reserved for your brain, and your brain alone. Have no place in his. His warning about Jungkook was due to lessons learned by him.

"And you?" He asks, noticing the slight discomfort in your tone. He wouldn't normally entertain such frivolous conversations with you, but he's only human. Alcohol still gets him a little loose-lipped, too. "What's new in your love life?"

You laugh, now. Good fuckin' question. Genuinely don't know how to describe your Damocles boy, or if you even want to.

"Nothing new."

"No?"

"No," you smile in such a way that Yoongi knows you're not telling the whole truth - but who is he to pry?

"Well," he says, then coughs to clear his throat. Look out to the street ahead of you both. It's full of drunk revellers, and you're certain at least half of them will have The Scouts in their playlists. Yoongi's position in the band means he's never front and centre, so no one notices him like this. If they do, they're being incredibly discreet about it. "I'm sure you'll meet someone soon."

"Maybe," you shrug, knocking your shoulder against his arm. "Be easier if you didn't stand in front of every guy who shows an interest in me."

"It was one guy," he laughs, knowing not to take you too seriously. "And you know he was a creep. Was just standing in for your brother."

"Yeah," you nod, not caring to counter him, or to remind him how fucked up it is to refer to himself like that. Folding your arms over your chest, you're regretting the lack of a coat. Had left it back at pre-drinks, because a little bit of liquor and you suddenly think you're a child of the sun. "You're right. Thanks for that."

"No worries," Yoongi shrugs. Is about to offer you his jacket, when a taxi rolls up. "This yours?"

"Yeah," you nod, recognising the number plate from the taxi you'd ordered via an app when you'd been in the bathroom. "Want a lift?"

He shakes his head. "Gotta head to the studio first."

"Yoongi, you're drunk," you laugh. "What did I tell you about all work?"

"Yeah, yeah, dull boy," he laughs too - but it's not you he's thinking of as he recites it. It's the girl he's heading home for that enters his mind, and how she'd said something similar. Shaking his head, he's confused at how easily thoughts of her intertwine with how easy it can be to joke with you. Puts it down to the alcohol. His head's a mess. "Inspiration doesn't wait. Let Jimin or someone know when you're home."

"Get in the cab," you insist at his need to be difficult. "I'll route it past the studio. Inspiration doesn't wait," you imitate a little childishly, which does get him smiling. "Better to get to it quickly, no?"

He looks around. Looks a little uncomfortable. You don't take it personally. He looks like this a lot of the time around you. Even before it all got weird.

Eventually, he sighs. Relents.

"Route it to yours," he says. "I'll carry on to the studio."

"Studio is closer," you tell him, knocking your head to the side, pulling open the door. "C'mon. The driver will leave if you don't hurry up."

"And Jin'll kill me if you get stolen," he reminds you, as if that would be likely to happen. Even if the taxi driver was a creep, there are cameras everywhere in places like this. You're as safe as can be. "You first. Non-negotiable."

"You're a tough bargainer," you hum with narrowed eyes. He is at least here, and not walking in the cold. Would have to cross the river to get to the studio, and the thought of any of them drunkenly walking along it alone scares you. "Fine. But you better not get stolen, either. Twitter would have a meltdown- no, Twitter would kill me if you get stolen."

"Shut up," he laughs. Knows The Scouts have a fanbase that could scare even political leaders into submission, if they really wanted to. "They don't even know who you are."

But Yoongi is forgetting who your brother is. Forgetting that there's a good reason why Jungkook has 'look but don't touch' etched into his brain. Forgetting that there are Twitter accounts dedicated to posting updates from your socials, just for a glimpse of The Scouts.

And as you let silence simmer into the taxi, not caring to keep up a conversation, you're none the wiser that those exact fan accounts are currently screaming into the void.

The Yoongi-dedicated update accounts, too.

In fact, the entire app is on fire - and it's not gonna be an easy one to put out.

03:31AM

D4m0cl3s: you still out, clem?

Cl3m3ntin3: why? miss me?

D4m0cl3s: never

Cl3m3ntin3: hmmm well in that case, yes i am x

D4m0cl3s: i think you're lying you answered far too quickly

Cl3m3ntin3: i think you should just admit that you miss me and u just caught me at a good time :/

D4m0cl3s: but i don't? and ur nose must be soooooo big pinocchio

Cl3m3ntin3: yeah you do you've missed me sooooo much tonight, havent you? bet you've been all mopey just thinking about me aaaaaaall night me & my proportionally sized nose x

D4m0cl3s: dunno what you mean

Cl3m3ntin3: well, are you home?

D4m0cl3s: almost

Cl3m3ntin3: not even home yet and already texting me... but you don't miss me? you're lucky you've got such a nice cock i wouldn't let your lies slide so easily if you didn't

D4m0cl3s: so you're only with me for my cock?

Cl3m3ntin3: i'm not with you

D4m0cl3s: ouch noted

Cl3m3ntin3: you're the one who refuses to have me, remember?

D4m0cl3s: you know it's not like that, clem

Cl3m3ntin3: i know, babe i'm just fucking with you figuratively (sadly) i'm with friends though - i'll let you know when i'm alone, alright?

D4m0cl3s: don't worry about me enjoy your night trouble message me in the morning, yeah?

Cl3m3ntin3: if this is a ploy to make me message you first, it wont work

D4m0cl3s: finei 'll message you

Cl3m3ntin3: keen

D4m0cl3s: you love it

Cl3m3ntin3: suuuure i do

D4m0cl3s: stay safe, babe drink water before bed

Cl3m3ntin3: you wanna drink some clementine juice before bed?

D4m0cl3s: i dont think they make clementine juice and no you know the rules sleep off the alcohol first then send me pictures of that gorgeous cunt in the morning, yeah?

Cl3m3ntin3: and what will i get in return?

D4m0cl3s: the video i've just taken of myself stroking my big hard cock just for you

Cl3m3ntin3: fuck send it now? pls x

D4m0cl3s: keen and no x

Cl3m3ntin3: c'monnnn :(

D4m0cl3s: in the morning, baby just know that i'm a little drunk but so fuckin' hard

Cl3m3ntin3: no whiskey dick? i'm impressed

D4m0cl3s: i'm thinking about you nothing will ever stop me from getting hard when im thinking about you

Cl3m3ntin3: watcha thinkin about? gimmie specifics x i wanna touch myself

D4m0cl3s: that pretty cunt of yours how fuckin' wet you get god i wanna fuck you nice and slow NO FUCK STOP TEMPTING ME YOU SIREN

Cl3m3ntin3: 🙁

D4m0cl3s: in the morning

Cl3m3ntin3: you promise?

D4m0cl3s: i promise, baby go spend time with your friends message me if you need anything

Cl3m3ntin3: your dick?

D4m0cl3s: anything other than that you'll get it in the morning, clemmie promise x

D4m0cl3s is offline

GENIUS LAB Big Hit Ent, Yongsan-gu

"All good?" Yoongi hums as the door to his studio clicks shut. 

He'd left the door on the latch so you could get back in when you went to the bathroom. Could have just given you the code, but he didn't want you to think he'd be making a habit of this. It's a limited-time offer. Not one that can be redeemed whenever you like. It's now, and now only.

"Yeah, yeah," you nod, pulling on the back of the spare desk chair Yoongi had rolled up beside his. You don't look at him, just at the screens as you tell a little white lie. "Just let Jimin know I was okay."

Yoongi grunts some sort of agreement, but doesn't vocalise a response as such.

It's not like a complete subversion of the truth. A text has been sent to your group chat. The one with just Jungkook and Jimin. No one else needs to know your business, as far as you're concerned.

It's just that a few more texts have been sent to your Damocles boy—but that's none of Yoongi's business. You're sure he wouldn't care to know.

You're also sure he's regretting the request for help bestowed upon you on the ride back. He'd mentioned the song he was going to work on, and you'd offered to lend an ear again. 

It's not an unheard-of thing. There are a couple of tracks on the last album that have been tweaked as a result of your ear, including their biggest single. You're not listed in the credits, but you never asked to be. Was just helping out a friend—even if said friend then decided to become an asshole when they started making a name for themselves.

You're tipsy, and so is Yoongi. It's easier to forget how fraught things have become when you're like this. You wouldn't be here right now if you hadn't had a few too many drinks. 

You also probably wouldn't be trending all over twitter, but you're still blissfully unaware of this.

"Same track as before, right?" You ask, kicking your shoes off to get a little more comfortable on the chair.

Again, words fail Yoongi. You're forced to decipher his small noises, 'cause it's all he tends to offer you. It's not like it's a uniquely you issue—the boys have learned to speak in Yoongi-code, too. 

"Okay, play it from the start," you tell him. "Show me what we're working with."

There's a cautious nature to the way Yoongi works. So preoccupied with creating perfection, he hates letting people hear his work before it's reached his self-imposed arbitrary standards. There's only a very small circle who gets the privilege of seeing how his brain works.

Despite his ever-present disdain for you, it seems like you're one of the lucky few. He'll never acknowledge this. Never admit that he favours your opinions, because he genuinely doesn't think he does.

You're frank with him. Will tell him how it is. Don't sugarcoat it. Aren't seeking his approval, so don't care to lick his ass just to keep him happy—not that he ever wants you to lick his ass. Could think of nothing worse. Not because he isn't into it, but because the thought of being with you repulses him in a way he can't quite describe. Even thinking about it makes him shudder.

But maybe that's the issue. Maybe the shudder is indicative of something else entirely.

"Yoongi?" You ask, drawing him from his thoughts. The song has finished, but he doesn't even really recall listening to it at all.

"Hm?" He hums. "Sorry, what were you saying?"

"The lyrics," you say. "What's the song about? 'Cause at the moment, musically, it sounds like a heartbreak song and love song all at the same time, and I think that's what's confusing about it. It can't decide what it wants to be."

Yoongi frowns.

"It's not really either," he supposes.

In the dim lighting of his studio, Yoongi is at his very best. Focused, he's shrewd in his astute calculations. Can put together different sounds and construct melodies you wouldn't even be able to dream of. For all of his issues, there is one undeniable truth: the man is a musical genius.

It's why this is all so perplexing to him. He hates not knowing how to make things right. This is his job. It's what he excels at—and yet he's failing.

"Well, what's it about?" You softly ask, turning to look at him. "Do you have the lyrics?"

Guard clearly up, the way Yoongi looks at you is puzzling. Whatever he's written isn't something that he wants to share.

"What?" you laugh, trying to not make a big deal of things. You know how quickly he closes up, and can already sense it happening. "You told me you're seeing someone, remember? God forbid you accidentally expose the fact you're a human being with real feelings."

You half think he might smile.

He doesn't.

Instead, he reaches across his desk for a small black notebook. A little weathered, it's clearly seen a lot of thoughts in the past. The leather of the cover is tarnished, and there's a faded sticker from some instrument brand wrapping around the spine.

"Just don't ask any fuckin' questions," he grumbles.

Rolling your eyes, you gladly accept the book. Tuck your thumb between the pages where a natural divide occurs. It's testament to how long Yoongi has spent agonising over the same words.

His handwriting never changes much. Always messy. Always hard to decipher.

Or at least, it's hard for other people. You've never found it to be too taxing.

What's curious this time are the little doodles on the page. Blossoms and small fruits.

"Cherries?" You ask, chirping with a little curiosity. It's hard to work out exactly what they are, but cherries seem like the most likely thing.

Yoongi just grunts.

Getting anything from him is like getting blood from a stone.

"How the fuck do you have a functioning relationship?" You mutter, casting your eyes back down to his words. The way he refuses to converse with you is infuriating.

"I said no questions," he curtly reminds you.

The way you roll your eyes this time is far less kind. Tossing the book back down on the desk, you reach for your shoes and get to your feet without a word.

"Where are you going?"

"Home," you tell him, as your hand reaches for the door handle. "You asked me for help, Yoongi—but I can't do jack shit if you won't let me."

"Yeah, well, I didn't ask for critique on my relationship, did I?" He snaps back. Feels his skin get all hot. Clammy. Relationship. That's not how he'd define what he's got going on. He doesn't know why he did call it that. Doesn't know why he didn't just ignore you, when you're clearly trying to wind him up.

"You're impossible," you tell him, patience thin. The alcohol made it easier to be friendly with him, but it also makes it easier to fight, too.

"And you're unbearable!"

"Me?!" You say with such offense it almost surprises Yoongi. Turning around to fully face him, you let go of the the door handle. Let it whisper shut, the lock softly clicking into place. You're willingly trapped in the confines of his studio. Could just leave. Instead, you choose to fight. "Oh, you have some fucking nerve—"

"I thought you were going?" He cuts you off, responding to your change in position by getting to his feet too. He's not one for confrontation, but there's something about you that just gets under his skin. Makes him wanna fight right back. "So why don't you just fuckin' go?"

"I am," you assure him. You should have known that this would end in disaster. "But maybe if you channelled some of this pent-up frustration into your music, maybe you'd actually get somewhere."

"I don't need you telling me how to do my job," he sneers. "If you hadn't noticed, I'm doing perfectly fine without your unsolicited advice."

Unbelievable. Was he not the one who asked for your help? Repeatedly?

"Holy shit," you scornfully laugh. "Listen to yourself, you deluded prick! You asked—"

"Yeah, well if you didn't insist on sticking your big fuckin' Pinnochio nose into everything—"

"My big nose?! Oh, you are such an asshole."

"You're no fuckin' daisy, either," he snaps. Doesn't even really know why he's being so rude. Just knows he doesn't want to back down. Doesn't wanna let you win. "Just do us all a favour and quit before the tour. No one wants you there."

It's never been a secret that Yoongi harbours contempt for the way in which you got your jobs, but you know damn well that you've proven your worth. If it was anyone else saying these words, you'd probably be offended.

Instead, you just shake your head. Laugh. Walk a little closer just to piss him off. Encroach upon his personal space.

"Tell me, Yoongi," you say quietly, picking off a little dust from his shirt just to see how he reacts. To your surprise, he lets you. Just looks down at you. Watches to see what you'll do next. Eyes flicking up to his, the air between you is frightfully thin. "If I quit, how would you explain it to Jin? Hmm? Would you tell him the way you speak to me?"

"I've got nothing to hide," Yoongi replies just as quietly. There's an intimacy to be found somewhere hidden between your mutual disdain and heated anger. The kind of coldness that can only come from someone you once knew to be warm. "He knows you're a piece of work."

This does make you laugh. "Nothing to hide, huh?"

"Nothing," he says. His jaw is tense, and his eyes are even more so. "Nothing happened that night."

"Yoongi, I didn't even mention that night," you remind him with a smirk, pleased at your ability to get under his skin. 

That night has lingered with you both: the scent of damp cedar wood and the sensation of sweltering heat against your clammy skin. It's not the kind of thing you forget, even if you never speak of it. Not with Jimin, not with Jungkook, and especially not with Yoongi.

"Just get out of my studio," he growls, eyes centred on yours. He's unwavering in the way that he stares you out; unashamed and uncompromising.

"Gladly," you say as you pull away from him.

You're not gonna beg him to be cordial with you. This atmosphere is a product of his own creation, and as miserable as it is, he's gonna have to be the one to fix it. Both as stubborn as one another, you know damn well it's gonna stay like for a while.

The door slams shut. No amount of soundproofing can obscure the way Yoongi curses into the void left by you.

But right on time, as you reach the door that leads out onto the street, your phone vibrates in your pocket. It's a little longer than the vibration of your other apps, so you know exactly what it is. Who it is. Solace is found in the form of notifications from him. Satisfaction, too.

D4m0cl3s: fuck it i need you, now, clem

D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!

end of part two

[papaya-twinks]

just an assistant - l.n

Warnings: angst, sexism, no hate to any maddie’s

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

@cheriiepies @landinho @mayalou

And just like that, you were gone, because McLaren couldn’t afford yet another scandal about their lead driver. The very day after you left, Lando walked back into his usual room, clicking his fingers absentmindedly as he scrolled through his phone, not looking up. “Y/N, get me a coffee,”. A frown coated his face as he looked up, not hearing the usual ‘of course’ he’d hear from you when he commanded you something. 

“Zak?” Lando said, his eyebrows creased together in annoyance as he walked back out the room, staring at the man in front of him. “Where’s Y/N?”. Zak sighed at the question, shrugging. “She left. We have you a new assistant, her name’s Maddie,”. (Sorry to al girls named Maddie, change the name if you want.) Lando eyed the girl beside him, the way she gawked at him like he was some crazy museum piece. 

She was definitely not as easy on the eyes as you were, with straggly blonde hair and pale blue eyes. “Whatever,” ,andl mumbled, “get me a coffee,”. Zak left her and Lando together in the room as the girl scampered off, Lando’s eyes following her. She was nowhere near as pretty as you were. 

“Thanks,” he muttered, taking the cup from her. “What the fuck is this?” he stared at the cup after taking a sip. It was full and cold, the girl had gotten too busy on her phone, gossiping to her friends that she worked for Lando, and let the drink get cold. “Sorry, sir,” she mumbled. “Get me another,” Lando snapped.

Every thing this stupid little girl did, was always so much worse than anything you would do. Everything you did was perfect, you were perfect. And you were all gone, and Zak wouldn’t say why. “Zak, for the fucks’ sake, she’s so shit,” Lando groaned to his boss. “Who, Maddie?” the man raised a brow. “That’s her name? Maddie?” he said the name in disgust. Y/N was better. 

“She can’t do basic tasks,” Lando sighed, as Zak shook his head. “We can’t have Y/N,” the man said, making Lando scowl. “Why not? Why did she leave? Did you make her?”. Never did you think Lando would ever care for you this much, but you weren’t even there to witness it 

“Why do you want her so badly, Lando?” Zak said, making Lando’s cheek flush slightly. In truth, he was sounding a little desperate, but that was irrelevant. He needed you. “Maybe I want an assistant who can actually make a cup of coffee,” he grumbled. 

He was right, actually. Maddie couldn’t even manage that task, and your cups were so much better. “Lando, what is she doesn’t want to come back?” Zak said, his voice almost gentle. “Call her. Ask her,” Lando said. He was adamant, and even he didn’t know why,but he wanted you back and he always got things his way. 

With a sigh, Zak entered your number, putting the phone speaker. You were at your apartment,ent, lying on the beek desperately scrolling for jobs when your phone rang. “Hello?” you said. You’d deleted Zak’s contact after he fired you, so you didn’t know who this was. “Hey Y/N,” Zak said, his voice slightly uncomfortable . 

“Zak,” you mumbled, your voice dropping. What was he gonna say? Tell you that you left something and you need to pick it up? “Lando wants to speak to you,”. Lando? What did he want to do with you? You were just an assistant, surely Zak had found someone else to replace you? “Hi,” you mumbled, hearing the phone switch over to Lando. 

“Y/N,” he didn’t bother with a greeting, “why did you leave?”. So he thought you had chosen to leave. But Zak had very clearly instructed that you weren’t to tell anyone of why to has left. “Um,” you said, not sure how to reply, “I didn’t like the job,”. Lando scowled through the phone, scrunching his nose. “Why not? What happened?” he asked.

“If you wanted a higher salary, I’d give it to you,” he blinked. “It doesn’t matter, Lando, I’m not coming back,” you shrugged. “Seriously?” his voice turned bitter. “What is it coz of what I did? I did it, like, twice, Y/N, Jesus,” he scoffed, his cold tone taking you by surprise, “you don’t have to be such a damn prude,”. What the hell? “Lando, I’m not a- hello?” he cut off the line. 

What was the point of that? He’d called you just to pass on that message? You swallowed the lump in your throat as the tears threatened to spill, your knees tucked to your chest l “all you had wanted to do was earn a bit of money for you to keep your apartment and this was what you got. Lando and Zak hadn’t moved since Lando hung up, Zak’s eyes trained on his driver. 

‘That was harsh, Lando,” Zak said quietly. “I shouldn’t have said that,” Lando mumbled to himself, reaching for the phone. “Don’t,” Zak moved the device out of his reach, “don’t make it worse,”. Why the hell did he care so much for you? That was the only question that kept him up the next few nights, that and Maddie’s ridiculously strong coffee. She was so shit, why couldn’t have just kept Y/N? 

Maddie fucked up everything she did, she gave Lando the wrong items for the race and lo and behold, he came 5th. He needed Y/N, not just for performance, but because he missed you. “Call her again,” Lando demanded, storming into Zak’s office as the American looked up. “Call who?” he asked, eyebrow raised. 

“You know damn well who, Y/N!” Lando snapped, reaching for his boss’s phone. “Lando, you’re become paranoid and obsessed with her,” Zak said, frowning. “Obsessed? I need someone who knows one thing about racing and isn’t just here to take photos for her instagram!” Lando groaned, “Y/N never did that, she was nice, and she was kind and I abused that and she needs to come back,”. 

Zak had never seen such an outburst from his driver and gave in, handing Lando the phone. He rung the number, tapping his foot as the device rang. No answer. “Fuck,” Lando cursed under his breath, pressing call again. “Y/N, please,” he muttered, as the phone beeped to show it had connected. “Hi?”. God. Your sweet little voice. Oh how he’d missed everything about you. “Y/N,” Lando said. 

It was almost as if he could sense the way your face fell at the sound of his voice. “Hear me out, please,”. You’d never heard Lando plead before, this was new. “Go on,” you said wearily, bracing yourself for another belittling comment. “What I said, last time, about you being a prude,” he said sheepishly as you cursed mentally. “I didn’t mean it, I swear, it just came out, I was so frustrated,” he groaned. 

“Okay,” you said, unsure what else to say. “Please, please, come back,” he mumbled, “did you watch the race?”. You paused. “I did,” you said, “what did Maddie fuck up this time?”. Lando almost laughed at the truth in your words. “Everything,” he chuckled dryly, “every fucking thing,”. He paused for a second too, hearing the sound of your laugh on the other end. It was like a melody. 

“I need you back, Y/N,” he said quietly. You were still annoyed at Lando, what he had said to you for simply leaving because of him was horrible, and he’d never been nice to you once. But hearing him pleading….no. Lando would just abuse his power again. And again. “You have to,” there it was. The cockiness. 

The acting like you owed him something. It got on your nerves but you never did have the courage to protest about it. “I’ll think about it,”. 

[alxtiny]

Birthday Gift | Jeong Yunho x Reader

Synopsis: where you and yunho engage in birthday fun

Pairing: jeong yunho x afab!reader, idol au

Genre: smut, fluff

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: smut, no use of protection (wrap it before you tap it guys), piv, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, use of princess, oral (f & m receiving) big dick!yunho if anything else please tell me MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!!!

Notes: I’m not great at writing smuts 🫡

masterlist

As the last echoes of goodbyes faded into the night, the KQ Ent. building buzzed with sounds of celebration. Yunho had just wrapped up a special birthday live with his fans, and the energy of the evening lingered in the air like a sweet melody as he made his way home. He stepped through the doors of his apartment, and his eyes widening at the sight of the dimly lit room adorned with colorful streamers and balloons. A chorus of "Surprise!" erupted from the gathered ATEEZ members, a few select friends and of course you.

Yunho's smile stretched from ear to ear as he took in the scene, feeling overwhelmed by the love and warmth surrounding him. His birthday had already been magical with the love and wishes of all the atinys and the gifts prepared by the staff, but this unexpected party made it even more special.

He leaned against the wall, taking it all in before slowly making his way towards the brightly decorated cake, that Hongjoong held, at the center of the room. Dressed in an off-the-shoulder baby blue lace dress, matching the frosting on the cake, you rushed over, squeezing Yunho’s arm, contentment settling over him. He placed a kiss on your lips as you wished him a Happy Birthday, hint of a smile playing on your lips as you nudged him to blow out the candles.

When Yunho finally did so, there was an eruption of cheering, Hongjoong and Seonghwa took it upon themselves to pass around slices of cake, leaving Yunho to you. Smiling shyly, you glanced at Yunho, who grinned back before wrapping his arms around you. Slipping his hands around your waist, you blushed at the feel of his fingers stroking up and down your sides. “Happy Birthday, Yuyu…” you whispered once again.

You tugged at his shirt, pulling him closer as the two of you leaned in for a soft kiss, pulling away only when Wooyoung told you to get a room. You sent Yunho away to talk to the others and enjoy himself. As the night wore on, laughter filled the air as everyone indulged in delicious snacks and shared stories. Yunho found himself surrounded by the people he cherished most, feeling grateful for each and every one of them.

Eventually, the other members began to trickle out, bidding their farewells and promising to catch up soon. Left alone with you, Yunho turned around to face you, his heart skipped a beat as he met your gaze, love overflowing from your eyes.

With a gentle tug of your hand, Yunho led you away from the living room and into the quiet sanctuary of his bedroom. The atmosphere crackled with anticipation as he closed the door behind you, enveloping you in his arms.

In the soft glow of the fairy lights, your lips met in a sweet kiss, “Thank you,” he mumbled against your lips, a smile pulling at his lips. His arms tightened around you, hands reaching the backs of your thighs, swiftly lifting you and making you giggle at the sudden action. He pulled you close as you wound your legs around his waist, unable to stop yourself from revelling in the warmth of his embrace. Your body trembled under the heat of his touch, and a content sigh escaped your lips as your forehead rested against his, eyes closing for a moment.

You pulled away slightly to look at him, the glimmer of moonlight falling upon your face highlighting the flush on your cheeks. The desire evident in his eyes as he gazed at you caused your pulse to quicken, though you kept your voice calm. “For what?” you asked.

His response came quickly, almost breathless, “Everything, everything… I have to say thank you,” he replied. Before you could respond, he captured your lips again, urging you to wrap your arms around his neck. Pulling away after several moments, you sighed in pleasure and smiled at him, “I am glad you had fun.”

Your eyes drifted shut as his lips caressed your cheek, your skin warming beneath his touch. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as your breathing steadied. When you opened your eyes again, a mischievous grin played across your lips. Tugging Yunho forward by his tie, you pecked at his lips before pulling away, leaving a small trail of kisses down his jawline. Lifting yourself slightly, you brought your lips back to meet his, letting your tongue explore the depths of his mouth. Inch by inch, your hips pressed against his as your hands ran up his chest and along his neck. “Yunho…” you breathed out, seeking his tongue with yours.

He wasted no time and took three quick steps towards the bed, dropping you onto it gently. You laughed and squirmed under him as he positioned himself between your thighs, his hands moving down your torso to rest on your thighs before lifting your dress over your head as fast as he could. You gasped in surprise when he tore off your lingerie in fervour, eliciting a pleased hum from him. Moving his hands lower, he palmed your breasts with his large hands, causing you to writhe beneath him.

Your breath came faster now as pleasure ran across your body like electric shocks. His hot lips continued their journey downwards, stopping briefly to tease your collarbone with his teeth before continuing to work their way down your body. “So fucking beautiful and all for me,” His teeth nipped at your soft skin, leaving tinges of purple in their wake. As he went lower, you arched your back towards him, his lips teasing and pinching your nipples making you whimper, “Mhmm….all for you,”

You wrapped your legs around him again, pushing his hips towards yours, encouraging him further. His fingers grazed your thighs, lightly caressing your pliant skin but never touching you where you needed him. Suddenly his hand dipped further, the feeling of his fingertips against your most sensitive part made you shudder.

Slowly he worked one finger in, sliding it back and forth, watching pleasure take over your face, hands fisting at the sheets. When you began to shift restlessly beneath him, his fingers moved faster, slipping inside of you and rubbing against your g spot. The sensations coursed through you uncontrollably. You dug your fingers into his back, your nails almost drawing blood.

He pulled out his fingers and brought them to his lips, sucking your arousal off them. You whined at the loss of his touch as he started to kiss down your stomach. As soon as he touched the skin between your thighs, you let out a cry and arched your back, thrusting your hips towards him, “Yunho…f-fuck please,” you sighed. His lips travelled down over your lower abdomen, he kissed and marked the skin, nipping gently before moving further south.

He gave an experimental lick to your clit as he spread your legs wider, opening you up for him. Your hands tangled themselves in his hair, tugging harshly, he moaned at the feeling sending vibrations through your pussy. He continued his descent down your body, his tongue lapping hungrily at your slit. You were beyond reason now, lost in sensation and unable to control yourself.

You felt his tongue slowly slide up inside of you, licking every inch of you until finally he pressed the tip against your hole. With one smooth motion, you felt his tongue intrude in your cunt, moving it around while giving gentle pressure to your tight bud.

Your whole body quivered as he rubbed his tongue up and down your slit, working magic with it, making your orgasm build up quickly. "Ahh! fuuuuck" You cried out as you came, hips twitching against his face. His tongue twirled around inside of you, flicking against your g-spot, bringing you closer to another orgasm. You grabbed his head and ground your cunt against his face.

"Oh fuck Yunho… Ahh… oh god…" You felt your eyes roll back in overstimulation. He pulled away from your cunt, his face wet from your cum, grinning wickedly at you. He caressed your inner thighs, teasing you again before you could recover completely.

Your legs felt weak and shaky but you pushed yourself up to your elbows, grabbing hold of his belt and unbuckled it, rushing to get rid of the tight constriction. Yunho pushed your hands away and quickly freed himself from the rest of his clothes, pulling off his shirt and tie, throwing them on the floor. Looking up at him, you reached for his pants and underwear, pulling them off quickly and throwing them over with the others.

Gripping his hardness in both hands, you looked up at him, taking in his dark brown eyes and hungry expression. Shivering with anticipation, you lowered your head, letting your tongue run along the tip of his erection. “Fuck,” he sighs, taking a sharp intake of breath as your hot breath scorched his sensitive skin.

Moaning low in your throat, you began to pump him, taking his cock deep inside of your mouth. His grip on your hair tightened as you bobbed your head, desperate to please him. He growled deeply in response, his hips jerking into your mouth with a grunt. He allowed his hands to grip your hair into a makeshift ponytail, and guided your head forward onto his cock and back, thrusting his cock deeper with every movement.

“Nghh, s-shit…” he moaned, throwing his head back at the feeling of your mouth around him. With his eyes closed, Yunho groaned in pleasure as he felt your tongue swirl around his member. When his entire length was buried in your mouth, he clenched his eyes tightly shut, biting his lip to keep from crying out too loudly. This was exactly what he needed; his body stiffened as his release grew closer. With one last deep thrust, he released into your warm mouth, his hands clenching your hair tightly. He panted harshly as you cleaned him up with your mouth, dragging your nails down his thighs lightly, humming happily as his member throbbed in your mouth. You stopped for a moment, only to wipe at your mouth and chin. with your hand, looking up at him through your lashes.

Satisfied that he was finished, you slowly licked your lips before rising up to kiss him deeply, your tongue tangling with his. Moving backwards onto the bed, you straddled his waist, resting your weight against him as you started to grind your hips into him. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you began to rock against him, feeling him grow harder still within your grasp. When he gripped your ass firmly, you lifted yourself off him until just the tip remained within you.

He moaned as you sank back down onto him, slowly pushing your breasts together as you moved back and forth. His grip on your hips tightened, gripping you as hard as he could as he forced you onto his length once more. His pace became frantic as you rode him mercilessly, his legs tensing as he prepared to release. He looked up at you, wild brown eyes begging for mercy as you leaned forward and kissed him again.

Yunho flipped you over, not being able to wait anymore, “Hmm, fuck, getting real close, princess.” Bringing your legs to your chest, his hands had a strong hold over your thighs, strong enough to leave marks. He thrusted into you from the changed angle, watching your face contort with each thrust, moving his hand he pressed it against the bulge that formed near your lower abdomen as he thrusted deeper and deeper. “‘M close, Yun,” you moan, arching your back off of the pillows, chest briefly touching his, breathing heavily, “Wanna cum with you.”

Yunho whimpered, hips stuttering slightly at the intense pleasure. His arms trembled, skin flushed and gleaming with sweat, as he once again picked up the pace, pushing you to the edge. You convulsed around his cock, making it difficult for him to move but his pace did not relent, driving you to overstimulation. Your hands moved up to his chest, almost pushing him away.

Yunho watched you, a haze drawn across his eyes. He let out a pained strangled moan, as you clenched around him even tighter. You moaned and leaned in to kiss him sloppily, feeling another orgasm approach with increasing intensity.

“Can I come inside, princess,” he exhaled, making you nod frantically. His hips pressed deep onto yours as he released into you, your legs falling limp to your sides, feeling the overwhelming pleasure wash over you. You felt Yunho’s legs tremble, as he collapsed beside you, panting heavily as you both came down from your high. He smiled lazily, running his fingers along your sides as he waited for your breathing to return to normal.

Pulling out of your soaking cunt, he grabbed a cloth from the side helping you clean up, occasionally peppering kisses on your face and the bright purple marks on your chest. After cleaning himself too he helped you put on one of his loose t-shirts, dressing himself in comfy boxer shorts as well and laid down beside you, arm thrown around your waist and face nuzzled into your neck. He sighed happily, “This might’ve been the best birthday gift I got today. I love you.”

You chuckled softly, stroking his soft hair and kissing his temple. “I love you too.” You turned so you were facing him, looking into those intense chocolate eyes of his, taking in his whole person. Those bright eyes gleamed with happiness as they locked with yours, which caused an overwhelming sensation of comfort to flood you.

Wrapping your arms around him, you brought him close and held him tighter, wondering how this perfect man had managed to find you.

© alxtiny . Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my works on any platform in any way.

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DISCLAIMER: THIS IS PURE FICTION AND NOT RELATED TO THE MEMBERS OF ATEEZ IN REAL LIFE PLEASE DO NOT TAKE IT SERIOUSLY

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[royalxenawolf]

Drink Me Up

x Reader Writing Info

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Warnings: Blood Drinking, Human/Vampire Relationship, Pet Names, Consensual Sex, Kissing, Forehead Kisses, Neck Kissing, Domestic, Smut, Female Reader, Tenderness (if i forgot anything let me know)

Words: 2,086

Summery: “Now tell me what you want, love,”

"Spike, I'm back," you called out as you entered the crypt that Spike called home. You walked over to the area he had turned into a kitchen for you and placed down the bags of groceries you were carrying. Spike may be able to survive on blood, being a vampire and all, but you were human and needed food. You looked around and saw no sign of your boyfriend, so you called out to him again, "Spike?"

Spike emerged from the hole in the floor of his crypt, looking tired. He wore a pair of worn-out jeans and an old T-shirt that hugged his muscular figure. You could smell the faint scent of cigarette smoke lingering in the air, something you had grown accustomed to since dating Spike. "Hello, love," Spike said, his voice rough with sleep but softening as he approached you.

As you finished setting down all the groceries, you felt Spike's strong arms wrap around your waist. His familiar touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you leaned back into him, closing your eyes for a moment. "Hey, yourself. Did you sleep well?"

Spike hummed softly against your skin, his cold breath tickling your ear. "As much as one can, pet." He chuckled lightly, nuzzling his face into your hair. "But enough about my troubles."

You turned around in his arms and smiled up at him, the dim light of the crypt casting eerie shadows on his handsome features. "You know you can talk to me about anything, Spike. I'm here for you, always." You brushed your fingers along his cheek, tracing the line of his jaw.

Spike returned your smile as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "I know, love." He took a step back, his hands sliding down to rest on your hips. "So, what's for dinner?" Spike asked with a playful grin, his eyes sparkling in the low light.

You rolled your eyes and laughed, shaking your head at him. "Oh, you're terrible," you teased.

"Oh, you better believe it," Spike retorted playfully. He nudged your shoulder lightly as he leaned against the counter next to you. "What's on the menu tonight, love?"

You smiled and opened up the bags of groceries, pulling out the items one by one. "Well, for me, I was thinking pasta with meat sauce, salad, and cheese bread," you said, feeling a bit proud of yourself for thinking ahead.

Spike arched an eyebrow at you in question as he asked, "What about me, love? What am I supposed to eat?"

You smiled slightly and held your wrist out under his nose. "What do you think you're having?" you replied, watching him and waiting for his reaction.

Spike's eyes widened slightly in surprise before he burst into a hearty laugh. "Well, well, well," he chuckled, shaking his head. "I think I'm having what my love has so kindly offered." He leaned forward and brushed his lips against your wrist playfully.

You blushed a bit at his response but continued with your preparations for dinner. "Okay," you said as you started to cook the pasta.

Spike watched you move around the kitchen with an amused expression. "Need any help, love?" he asked, stepping closer.

You shook your head, smiling. "Just keep me company, Spike. That's all I need from you tonight."

With a content sigh, Spike leaned against the counter, watching you cook with a soft, adoring look in his eyes.

As the pasta cooked, Spike began to hum a soft tune, filling the crypt with a strangely comforting sound. You glanced over at him, appreciating the rare moments of tranquility you shared amidst the chaos of your lives. "You look like you're enjoying yourself," you said, stirring the pasta.

Spike smirked, his eyes twinkling. "Just enjoying the view, love. Just enjoying the view."

You chuckled softly, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "Well, I'm glad to be your entertainment for the evening," you replied playfully.

Spike pushed himself off the counter and walked over to you, his presence a comforting and reassuring one. "You know, love, you really do make this place feel like a home," he said quietly, his voice filled with genuine emotion.

You paused for a moment, touched by his words. "And you make me feel safe, Spike," you admitted, meeting his gaze. "Even in a place like this."

He reached out and gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "I'll always keep you safe, pet. Always."

The timer went off, signaling that the pasta was done. You turned back to the stove, feeling Spike's gaze linger on you. You drained the pasta and mixed it with the meat sauce.

Spike takes his place in his chair as you sit on his lap, eating your dinner and watching Passions. Occasionally, you feel Spike place a light kiss on the side of your neck and shoulder. You finish your food and place the plate on the floor next to Spike’s chair.

"Ready to eat?" you ask, looking over your shoulder at Spike.

"Absolutely," he replies with a grin, turning your head to him and capturing your lips in a kiss.

Spike's kiss was tender yet possessive, leaving you breathless. When he finally pulled back, he gently took your wrist and brought it to his lips. "You sure about this, love?" he murmured, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

You nodded as you turn around to face him one leg on either side of his lap, you grab the side of his face with your free hand offering him a reassuring smile. "I'm sure, Spike. I trust you."

Spike's eyes softened, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your wrist before his lips parted to reveal his fangs. With a final, reassuring look, he bit down, the sensation a mix of sharp pain and overwhelming intimacy. You gasped, clutching his shoulder for support as he fed. You rocked your hips, trying to gain some friction. Spike’s eyes flicked up to your face; your eyes were half-lidded as you rocked your hips back and forth in desperation. Spike groaned as he drank from you, lifting his thigh and pressing it against you. You ground down on it with a moan.

Your breathing grew heavier as the sensations overwhelmed you, blurring the line between pain and pleasure in the most exquisite way. Spike's grip on you tightened, his sounds of satisfaction mingling with yours. When he finally pulled back, licking the wound, you leaned down and kissed him with need. His hands traveled down your body to your thighs, squeezing as he pulled away from the kiss and looked into your eyes. Then, he dove in to kiss and suck marks onto your neck, tightening his grip on your thighs. He stood up from his chair, bringing you with him. At the abrupt change, you let out a surprised yelp and wrapped your arms around his neck. “H- hey, Spike!” you gasped before he started walking down the stairs, reconnecting his lips with yours.

Your heart raced as Spike carried you down the stairs, his lips never leaving yours. The anticipation built with each step, and you could feel the passion between you intensifying. When he finally set you down on the bed, his eyes bore into yours with a mix of love and desire that made your breath catch.

Spike's hands roamed over your body, his touch both gentle and possessive. He leaned down, capturing your lips in another searing kiss. "You're mine," he whispered against your lips, his voice filled with raw emotion.

You nodded, breathless. "Always, Spike."

He smiled, his eyes softening for a moment before the intensity returned. Spike's hands moved to your clothes, slowly undressing you with deliberate care. Each piece of fabric that fell away left you feeling more exposed and vulnerable.

As he undressed, you couldn't help but admire the way his muscles moved under his skin, the way his eyes never left yours. When the last barrier between you was gone, Spike climbed onto the bed, his body hovering over yours.

He paused, his eyes searching your face. "Are you sure, love?"

You reached up, cupping his cheek. "I've never been more sure about anything."

With that, Spike's lips found yours again, but not for long. He then makes his way down your body, kissing and sucking marks onto every bit of exposed skin in front of him. You run your hand through his hair as he slowly moves down to your thighs, spreading them apart to make room for himself between them. Spike places a light kiss on the lips of your pussy and smirks as you gasp. He props himself up on his elbows and swipes his thumb over your clit, pulling another gasp from you. Then, he uses his fingers to spread your pussy apart and watches as you clench around nothing.

Spike looks up at you with a smirk on his lips. “Always so needy, eh love?” he asks as he runs his fingers over your hole, collecting your wetness. He makes eye contact with you as he brings his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean, letting out a moan. All you can do is watch his every move, once again completely captivated by him and the things he does to your body. “Sweet as ever, pet,” Spike says as he massages the flesh of your thighs while watching you. “Now tell me what you want, love,” he says, looking up at you with your hand in his hair, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

"Please, Spike," you whispered, your voice trembling with need. "I need you."

Spike's smirk widened as he pressed a tender kiss to your inner thigh. "Your wish is my command, love," he murmured, diving in to fulfill your desires.

Spike's tongue flicked out, teasing your clit lightly before he began to suck on it, sending waves of pleasure through your body. Your back arched off the bed, your fingers tightening in his hair as he worked his magic.

The sensations built quickly, each stroke and suck pushing you closer to the edge. "Spike," you moaned, feeling yourself teetering on the brink. His grip on your thighs tightened as he brought you to the peak, your cries echoing through the crypt as you came undone under his skillful touch.

As you came down from your high, Spike kissed his way back up your body, his lips lingering on every sensitive spot. He finally reached your lips, capturing them in a deep, passionate kiss that left you breathless once again. "You taste divine, love," he murmured against your lips, his eyes dark with desire.

You could feel him hard against your thigh, and the need between you both was palpable. "I need you, Spike," you whispered, your voice still trembling with the aftermath of your orgasm.

Spike's smirk returned as he positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes locking with yours. "Always so eager, pet," he teased, but his voice held a note of tenderness. With a slow, deliberate thrust, he filled you completely, both of you gasping at the sensation.

The rhythm he set was slow and intense, each movement drawing out the pleasure and building the connection between you. His hands roamed your body, exploring every inch as if memorizing you. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer, deeper.

"Spike," you moaned, your fingers digging into his back as the intensity grew. "I love you."

His eyes softened, and he leaned down to kiss you, his movements never faltering. "I love you too, pet," he whispered against your lips, his voice filled with raw emotion.

The pace quickened, the passion between you reaching a fever pitch. You could feel yourself nearing the edge again, and Spike's movements became more urgent, more desperate.

"Come for me, love," he urged, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine.

With a final thrust, you both tumbled over the edge together, your cries mingling in the air as the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in that moment of pure, unadulterated bliss.

As you lay entwined, your breathing slowly returning to normal, Spike pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. "Always, love," he murmured, his voice a soft promise.

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "Always, Spike."

The two of you lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, the world outside the crypt forgotten.